Know Thyself. Trust Thyself.

Miriam Climenhaga and I have challenged each other to start writing again. The deadline was this weekend. We used to blog on Xanga, and we blogged and we blogged and we commented and we made friends and we laughed and we cried and we blogged some more. We miss it.

We thought we might want to have a topic, but freaked out about that and ran the other direction. Too much pressure. Too much commitment.

It's Sunday, and I have no more time to procrastinate. So here, Miriam, after a long soak in the tub, is what I have to say.

My approach to creating art can be haphazard. Sometimes a piece begins with an idea -- a thought, a concept. Sometimes it begins with words -- the title. Occasionally, I have only a visual. And rarely, it will present itself whole, and my hands simply channel the form.

I've been working on this piece that started as a visual. This doesn't happen too often for me, and is usually the weakest impetus. But I went with it, because let's face it, what choice do I have?

I worked on it, and it began to manifest. As it unfolded, I didn't like it. I didn't trust it. It seemed wrong. I balked. I didn't understand it. I left it to hang, unfinished, bits and pieces lying around on my studio table. I eyed it suspiciously, and worked on other pieces.

Today I looked again at the work and thought, I'll just go through the motions. I'll do whatever it was I thought I was going to do in the first place -- whether or not I like it, whether or not I trust it will really work.

And once my fingers started working, I saw that it would work. It came together rather well. It pleased me. It was what I envisioned.

Now I have four pieces for my show in January. It's not enough, but it's a good start, and I'm on a roll.

Okay, Miriam. The pressure is on.