My creativity has broken out over the years as I have gone through the Artist’s Way and quite a few other books of Julia Cameron’s. This week I have been my own worst enemy, a big dramatic so to speak. I’m going on vacation in a week and it feels like I’m in limbo until I get on the plane. I go to my day job and after eight and half hours or so, I just want to go home and do absolutely nothing, I have that right don’t I? I work hard, I should be able to sit on the sofa and zone out to the baseball game that my husband is watching, even if I don’t like baseball? Ouch. Big red flag! This is the go being a bit dramatic.
Artists are dramatic. Art is dramatic. When artists are not making artistic dramas, they tend to make personal ones. Feeling off-center, they demand center stage. Feeling on tilt, they tilt at an imaginary windmill. “This relationship is in trouble,” they announce. “Why, it’s got all sorts of problems.” Or “I’m sure its’ nothing serious, but it’s possible I’m going deaf. Did you hear what I said?” All of us are creative, but those of us who are for a living had better learn to create with the same quotidian grace as our cousin who works at the bank….When we make out creative work and our creative lives too special and too dramatic, we uproot those lives from a sense of community and continuity. ~ Julia Cameron, Walking in this World
Because I’m not creating, doesn’t mean I get a free get out of jail card. I have to take responsibility for my own actions. This I am learning day-to-day, one breath at a time. My day job has stress, I have a small team of fifteen employees and they each have their own drama’s which I can take on a little too much. I try to leave the coaching sessions behind and as I leave the office, I make it an intention to keep work at work, sometimes that does not happen, sometimes the drama trickles behind me like a slow current to a stream, eventually it is going to make it to the ocean. Eventually I’m going to make it back to the page and I scramble to get there faster because I can tell my crankiness level rises when I’m not creating.
Artists love-making art the way lovers love-making love, and just as lovers become snappish when they need to go to bed and make love, artists become snappish when they need to make art. Artistic anorexia, the avoidance of the pleasure of the creative, is a pernicious addiction that strikes most artists sometimes and always takes us by surprise. Instead of making art, we make trouble – and we make it because we are binge emotionally on not making art. We need to get to the piano and practice. We need to show up at the easel or the page. We need to go full steam ahead, and when we don’t we tend to blow off steam by venting inappropriately about any number of imaginary ills. Goddamit, art is a serious business, and you had better believe we will raise hell if anyone gets too festive in our vicinity. ~ Julia Cameron.
It’s true. I need to show up to the page to blow off some steam. I am here now on the page and it feels like I’ve just arrived at home. The anxiety of not being here has disappeared, I am aware that my shoulders have fallen away from my ears where the past few days of not writing has pushed the shoulders in a tight position. Creating is serious business to me, I cannot not write. I simply can’t stay away for that long, much like a love affair, I’m desperate to get to the page and here I am. Where are you? Are you showing up to the page, the easel? What drives you back to the creativity when your ego has taken a side step to the dramatic? Kick it to the curb and take a moment to get back to centre.
Until next time, keep on typing. . . .