Start small. Write a line, draw a circle, paint a moment, carve a minute. It doesn’t matter how or when or why. Don’t think or blink. Move the hand, move the mind. Make something.
Why?
Because expression expands head and heart.
Because something is stirring that longs to stretch.
Because your something is different than my something.
Because it feels good.
Start small.
Don’t try for “Art” — find instead the tiny seed of a thing that may (or may not) lead to another thing, better thing, bigger thing. Maybe not. Let yourself maybe.
Set aside self-awareness. Let the hand glide and collide. Let go.
The act is the art.
This week I quickly made these “Hurry Up Horoscopes.”
Because I was exercising the writing muscle.
Because my journal writing was stagnant and stale.
Because I was tired of my own words.
I like these acts that have no point or purpose or intentional ‘art-ness’ — just fun. Remember when making was fun, with no pressure to perform?
Remember when making would take you to places deep and hidden, rich and full, all inside just waiting for your attention?
I want to feel that surprise again, to know the suspension of expectation.
And you — do you open hands & heart and leap across the divide of
here and there / stuck and struck?
What are you making?
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The world turns on words, please read & write.