I've been working to get my "creativity" back this month. I've started a quilt, spun yarn, sewn a little, painted our bedroom... but no matter how hard I tried that spot in my heart remained unfilled. Do you know that feeling? The one where you just can't feel content unless you're succeeding in producing something from your deepest, most untouched center?
For me, I only feel that way when I draw, and to be more specific, that should read, when "I" draw. Because really what's happening is that my hand is channeling some subtle energy or entity or spirit or subconscious that was previously unknown to me and making it appear on paper before my eyes. I really enjoy drawing things like mandalas and patterns, but they also don't fill that spot for me. Nothing but drawing women and children. It's like I'm meeting a new person for the first time. I suppose I'm relating to my heart that way. Or maybe I'm relating to a more universal female heart.
A break in the heat, a perfect summer breeze, the shade of the walnut trees, and the glimmer of the evening sun on my toes- all in the company of swaying flowers and humming cicaidas and familiar music and peaceful animals- brought me back to that place. It feels so good to be here for awhile.