Work harder, temper my expectations, compare notes with others, reach out to those who make sense, stop worrying, take time to rest.
Repeat.
It’s hard for me to learn new behavior. It’s so simple to lapse into that which is familiar. Lately I have been reminded that life is too short to have bad habits. Worrying doesn’t fix things. Five year goals are simply ephemeral. Time rushes.
I am more focused on what I will leave behind in this experiment of life. Other artists have shared the same thoughts with me. I have a sense of urgency and a greater appreciation for that which surrounds us. I can weep when I see a seedling cracking the surface of the soil. I am charmed by birds preparing their nests for the next generation. I am awestruck watching my grandson take his first wobbly steps.
It will all keep going no matter what I think I can control.
Realizing that gives me a pathway for new thoughts.
On teaching
I’ve had a few months to think about why I teach and what I should do about it. At the beginning of summer I was planning a Memphis gathering of like-minded stitchers. Many responded positively to this idea and I was pumped up with excitement. I investigated different venues, researched hotels, Airbnbs, restaurants, payment systems, field trips, caterers, sewing machines and projectors.
I am a planner. I spend a lot of time checking and double checking what I am planning. Then I plan again. All of that eats up time in the studio. Coming back from a one month residency at the Virginia Center of the Creative Arts I realized that all that planning was undermining the time I could spend working on my art. I do not need to be an event planner. I do not need to manage people to do it for me. I need to make art.
For those of you who expressed an interest in coming to Memphis, please do. My studio is always open to intrepid travelers. We can walk by the Mississippi and compare notes on our lives, eat some great food and wander in the gardens. I would love that.
For now I am head down, stitching, breathing deep and reminding myself each day that time rushes on.