"Success is not the result of spontaneous combustion.  You must first set yourself on fire."
-Fred Shero

Over the past week or so I have forced myself to face the very naked truth that I have lost my way as an artist and in many ways lost my purpose in the world.  Not entirely, but nothing I have accomplished this past year creatively has been done with any consistency.  My time in the studio has been feast or famine, having been compromised by all kinds of upheavals related to moving, family issues and shifting roles within my partnership.  I am not complaining – it is what it is – but this is the reason I haven’t had my creative mojo burning except in huge, short bursts ever since we came to LA.  I’m grateful and proud of the those bursts, but I would love to create a slower, steadier burn that grows over time and can feed off its own momentum.

Now that we are – at long last – in just one place I am more determined than ever to live by the priorities I carry around in my heart everywhere I go:  family, home, simplicity, creativity.  I do not have big demands for life, and it would be all too easy for me to continue down the road I am on now, which involves me spreading my energies out in a number of different directions, all of which give me satisfaction and joy, but taken together they make it difficult for me to sink my teeth into anything too deeply.  For a decade my world was wrapped around Swirly and having that focus was a wonderful gift.  I have since lost that focus, and while I’ve been able to re-direct my energies to other creative pursuits, it has always been in short, fierce geysers with a lot of floating in between.  Anyone who knows me well knows I don’t particularly enjoy approaching anything with a half-ass attitude.  Where I thrive best is in a position where I can push something to its limits and go as far as I can do to the best of my abilities.  This is the drive I have lost, and this is the drive I need to get back.

Ever since we moved I have been looking closely at what I spend my time on each week and I have been making a lot of decisions that have not been particularly easy to make but are necessary to honor my priorities.  I have cancelled road trips to see girlfriends, said no to complicated creative projects and refused to make any plans for the entire month of July.  At first glance it would seem an appropriate metaphor for what I am going through right now is that of a caterpillar pulling itself into a cocoon, but what I am really doing is peeling away layers.  Peeling away distractions, peeling away things that I might very well enjoy but that right now are preventing me from making any real progress on my career as an artist.  Peeling away as much as I can so I am able to get to the core of my artistic drive and kick it into high gear.  Everyday, pulling back – and in some cases, whacking off with a machete – the layers; everyday, going deeper.

I have lately been drawn to quotes and images that are of a rather fierce nature, such as the quote above.  Another quote I have been looking to for inspiration is by Rumi, which says, "If it is love you are looking for, Take a knife and cut off the head of fear."  There is violence in these images – devastation and destruction – and this is what I now must do in order to make my way back into the world as a professional artist.  I must cut off the head of fear and be downright vicious as I peel back the layers of my life in order to create as much room as possible for my own work.

In order to devote as much time as possible to my studio work, I will be taking a minimum three month hiatus from this online journal.  No entries until September 1, 2006 starting next Monday.  In addition, I need to pull back from the 52 Figments project.  I loathe the idea of not following through with a commitment, but this is a project that takes enough of my time in bits and pieces which adds up to time I could be creating.  If anyone is interested in taking over the project, please email me [christine@swirlygirl.com].  Otherwise I might adjust the format and change it to a flickr group or I might bring it to a close.  I will decide by Friday and announce it here, so please contact me as soon as possible if you want to become the new guardian of 52 Figments.  As far as my goal of 500 Creations goes, I am right on track to accomplishing this goal, and I know that by pulling away from some of these activities my ability to keep creating more and more is only going to increase.  I have enjoyed watching my list grow and grow but at times it feels like a rather strange exercise; it almost feels too self-congratulatory.  It began as an exercise of curiosity – could I really do this?  How much was I creating already?  What defines a "creation"?  I would say it has accomplished the goals I set out for it, as it got me in the habit of sneaking in creative time here and there in small doses, helped clarify what creativity means and how important ALL creation is – good, bad, silly, doodly or otherwise – and I think it inspired a few out there to set outrageous goals for themselves.

I’m not sure what else I will be peeling away, burning, stomping, and chopping off, but I know that letting go of my involvement in this online community for a little while is going to send a huge swoosh of fresh air into my days.  I have had this particular journal for a year now, and I love the sense of community it has given me and the genuine, heartfelt desire most everyone has to relate, connect, empathize, sympathize, celebrate, share and inspire.  I hope you don’t mind if I go away for a little while, knowing I’ll still be hovering in the background – becoming a "lurker" (a term I only recently learned) on your blogs and putting a temporary halt to my flickr updates.  I will continue to update my website as I complete new work and will announce new updates here (thereby adding a caveat to my "no new journal entries" mantra).

I’ll be writing a bit more over the next few days, but after Monday I’m officially incognito, trekking through a wild creative jungle with as much courage as I can muster.  You’ll be with me every step of the way, and I am profoundly grateful for that.

"When I think of the artist path, I think of travelling in Malaysia when I was 18.  The jungles there crowd right up to the road ~ the whole country seems bursting with green, lush, wild loveliness.  A little bit scary, a whole lot unknown and entirely beautiful.  You never know what you are going to find."

Sent to me in an email from Lovely Leonie, January 2006