prep as practice

I wrote last week about my time-blocked schedule that I’m testing out beginning this week and 3 1/2 days in, it’s going pretty well. I haven’t gotten around to every block every day, but other than evening crafty time (it’s the hardest time of day to break my post dinner cleanup, pre family time scrolling habit…but I’m working on it), everything else is working pretty well more or less where I blocked out time for it.

Anything that involves writing or thinking/planning is best done in the morning, as I suspected, while studio time is perfect for the afternoon.

Production time, that is. For now, I’m mostly doing prep and allowing myself to just play with materials without really thinking about a project or cohesive body of work. For the first time really ever I’ve struggled a bit with creative block the past couple of years, as the day job drained more and more of my mental reservoir (my 120 square foot backyard studio also served as my WFH office for nearly 7 years), so it’s nice to want to come in here and tinker again. I’m giving myself permission to do just that for a while.

Eventually, of course, I’d like to flesh out a more thoughtful project-based approach to studio time, a way of working I’ve enjoyed in the past. I’d like to make enough new work that I’m happy with to feel ready to put myself and my work out there for various opportunities. I even signed up for Recology’s AIR tour last week, but canceled partly to maximize time with my daughter before she went back to school this week, partly because I’ve accepted the fact that I’m simply not yet ready. I tend to get excited about things and rush into them, sometimes less prepared than I should or would like to be, but with this reset, I’m really trying to slow down, relish the process, and continue to focus on the long game.

I recently finished The Book of Hope: A Survival Guide for Trying Times, co-written by one of my absolute heroes, Dr. Jane Goodall, and Douglas Abrahms. While drawn to the book less as an artist and more as someone who cares deeply about animals and the environment, I thought a lot about where I am with my evolving creative practice in the context of what the authors write about Carol Dweck’s “use of the words ‘not yet’ to identify a growth mindset, or the belief that we can change and grow.” Or, put a little differently elsewhere in the book (this applies nicely to where I am professionally as well), “it takes a lot of time in our evolution for us to realize that we can never attain our full human potential unless our head and heart work together.” That’s the goal moving forward, both creatively and professionally.