rewind

up until the weekend of my birthday party*, i had gained a lot of momentum with the artist's way. things were getting done. progress was a dear friend i spoke to every day. my home space was coming together and my artistic life was taking wing.

but a few things happened in the wake of that project. minor post-project depression {as opposed to it's evil twin, post-partum depression}. escapism. a relationship {of sorts}. and the artist's way stopped.



dead.



sure, i made paltry efforts, but i wasn't getting enough sleep, for some of it i was working 7 days a week 12+ hours a day, and since i wasn't being efficient in a lot of places it was the first thing to fall off. this isn't necessarily a surprising thing. week 8 is where people stop coming to groups, where suddenly it feels like a what's the point mentality takes over and generally where there is a huge hiccup in the process for most people.

but i wasn't completely wasting my time. quite the opposite. i was just diverted into personal growth, though while not directly about the act of creating work, still integral to my sense of self-worth, particularly as a sexual being {mainly, finally finding it in me to realize i do have worth there}, and those things have long been overdue in terms of needing attention and progress.

so here i am, rewinding the chapters back to 8 {the rest of the group is wrapping up chapter 12 at this point and tomorrow is our last meeting}. and i am re-greeted by the section on artistic losses. but with all things artistic, for me at least, the word can be swapped with personal and mean the exact same thing. personal losses are as vital for me to acknowledge as artistic losses when it comes to the safety and clarity of the creative space.


and here i am, ready to move forward in the wake of some personal and artistic losses all wrapped into one. and in the second page of chapter 8, i read:

the criticism that damages an artist {i would substitute person just as easily} is the criticism--well intentioned or ill--that contains no saving kernel of truth yet has a certain damning plausibility or an unassailable blanket judgment that cannot be rationally refuted...
...personal in nature, nebulous as to specifics, this criticism is like covert sexual harassment--a sullying yet hard to quantify experience. the student {person} emerges shamed, feeling like a bad artist, or worse, a fool to try.

i won't explain the specifics, but man, does this paragraph resonate on so many levels in my life currently. so here i am, mourning losses that are personal in nature and moving forward, with the glorious lessons they also taught me still firmly in hand. thank you.




*yes, i still owe you all a post.