In my last blog post, I discussed my responses to the Fearless Creativity award at the Sooke Fine Arts Show. When I wrote that, I was ready to forge ahead, create new paths, and be brave. I was ready to take on the world. I felt excited about a collaborative opportunity and the prospect of working on a strong visual project with two other experienced artists. We were riding high after an initial exhibition, energized by a shared desire to be bold and vocal in our work.
And then the energy shifted. What had been momentum gradually blended into a kind of inertia. The voices that had been so clear became quiet whispers. Distractions pulled me in other directions. I convinced myself I was simply taking a short break to shift my vision and regroup, that this pause was intentional and temporary.
Yet in the back of my mind, I knew I needed to go further into my Vessels series. I had ideas to explore and statements to make—so much more to say and discover. The work felt unfinished, incomplete.
My original motivation got me started, but what deeper truth am I actually wrestling with? I've learned that series work often begins with surface interest but reveals underlying themes as you progress. The real substance emerges through the process of making. I want to ask myself: What questions kept surfacing during my initial work that I should continue to explore? What else needs to be said? I know there is so much more waiting to be uncovered.
The challenge now is how to return after this hiatus and reclaim that energy. How do I reconnect with the work when there are so many possible directions to pursue? What calls to me most urgently? What makes the loudest noise in my creative consciousness? Is there one idea that stands out and asks to be chosen, or do I need to simply begin and let the direction reveal itself?
Perhaps I'll only know by starting. I don't need to have all the answers yet. I don't need to see the finish line from here.
I found Goethe's famous quote that speaks to this moment: "Whatever you can do or dream you can, begin it: boldness has genius, power and magic in it." The words felt like permission to move forward without certainty.
I also came across a quote by Seneca, the first-century Roman philosopher, that feels equally relevant: "Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end." I take that to mean that I began something important, and I can begin again. Maybe not from exactly where I left off, but hopefully from a place of deeper understanding—a clearer sense of my voice, my vision, and what truly inspires me. The pause wasn't wasted time; it was perhaps a necessary ending that makes this new beginning possible.
PS. Images are of random work, some completed and others not - a bit like life. Today is my 71st birthday, I am old, and I like it!
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