Looking back in the last couple of year's sketch books is an insight into how the creative process works; as I noted in answer to a question on the Saatchi site;
Inspiration, translation, frustration, realisation.
I quite like that as a pocket wisdom and it reflects the path of my painting quite accurately. What always strikes me is the paths that I have started out on and become distracted; the pictures planned that through lack of time or a deviation to my route have been left as a note in my margin. I often find that any one painting naturally suggests a few others, and sometimes there is time and inclination to follow these up, but more often than not a new diversion appears and the trail goes cold. It is interesting to try and pick up these threads and rework sketches from years past, but somehow it doesn't often work; besides interrupting the line of investigation I am currently following, it is like trying to speak a language I am rusty at. There are always little discoveries though and pinching ideas from yourself is quite satisfying - things I had forgotten that I had drawn, often with attendant travel memories, are a welcome source of visual notes and painting fuel.
When I painted a couple of boatmen last month it was always with the idea in mind of a large piece about Charon, boatman of the Styx. In this instance it was the side tangents that took over and while the board I had prepared for 'The Boatman' languished behind my easel I painted two smaller 'studies' which became the ends rather than the means. 'The Boatman' is still to be completed and I have a few Haiku 'spare' as well from this series. I wonder if it will remain a dead end or whether the thread will be picked up later in the year?.. In this case the diversion came in the form of the offer to paint angels for an exhibition, so the nautically leaning series came to an abrupt halt, despite my first instinct to combine the two in a piece showing the becalmed boatman talking to his vision of an angel. Still like that one...
Oh, but isn't it all just a tiny reflection of the great path of life? Writing a biog. for 'My Publisher' and talking about my career trajectory with a colleague I am horribly aware that the line I took from college to the present day is winding at best and certainly contains numerous cul de sacs. Sometimes it is interesting and sometimes hard to ponder the strange journey I took from London to Edinburgh, but as there is no changing it I tend to be of the opinion that it was the only way; I am not a logical creature and only too apt to follow the funny looking potholed path without a signpost leading into a thicket.
Still feeling a bit weird about the stress day; it is as if, like riding a bicycle, your body never forgets stress and 'clicks' into it in a tried and tested pattern. I was disappointed that I let myself get taken over by irrational worries once more so easily, like slipping into a familiar warm bath. I always see it as the easy option no matter how unpleasant as my body seems to favour trauma over calm; "Oh, goody, a crisis - lets pump out those hormones and let the crazy irrational thoughts out".
Needing to return to my meditation which has been sporadic at best over the past year due to a certain needy kitten. Many days I have made a mental note not to let the hours pass till bedtime without 'sitting' for half an hour, and so often I have found myself about to sleep and nothing done; must find a trigger to remind me, as my routine has changed so much since last year I no longer have that space in the day set aside. Twig is always at her most mad and demanding in the morning as well which is the natural time for me to meditate; at day's start the mind is still settled anyway, not yet pulled about by the day's happenings.
And so to bed, unsettled, unmeditated...ready to veer off on whatever path tomorrow brings.
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