What stops us

Steven Pressfield calls it "Resistance."  Julia Cameron calls it our "Censor."  What is it?  It's that mean voice in our head that tells us we can't do it.  Sometimes it's not even a voice in our own head, but the voice of someone we love.  You wouldn't think so, but sometimes those people who are the closest to us are also getting in the way of our dream.  That longed for dream - that play we want to write, the painting we want to paint, the song we want to sing - whatever it is that we really want to do.  Our dream is always met with something that makes it really, really hard to get going.  Even if we can get going, it may show up again and say, "this is stupid."  "This is the dumbest thing you have EVER painted!"  And Yes, it happens to me.  Sometimes it will take me all day to get in the studio and paint.  And on days like yesterday, when I am finally in the studio working, it will say something so horrible to me that I wish it would just take form so I could slap it in the face.  Funny thing is, it seems to come from within my own mind.  (and I am not quite ready to slap myself in the face.  Yet.)

It seems that any time we want to change our lives for the better we are met with this force.  You might not understand what I am talking about.  Or maybe you think it only happens to artists and creative people.  So let me bring it closer to home.  Have you ever tried to start a new exercise plan?  Lose weight?  Have you ever wanted to quit a high-paying, secure job to do something that is more spiritually fulfilling or to serve others?  Those kinds of endeavors are also prime targets for the Censor.  Resistance.  Fear.  Shame.  Call it what you will, it is real, and it will make it SO HARD for you to live your dream.

"Where Treasure Lies."  Oil on Canvas, 40 x 30 inches.  ©Karine Swenson 2011

 It was a revelation for me to first read about this force.  I thought I alone experienced it.  I even thought there was something wrong with me.  I thought to myself, "if I know I want to be an artist, WHY can't I just go after it?"  I first found out about this whole thing by reading Julia Cameron's The Artist's Way.  Then, when I read Steven Pressfield's book, The War of Art, I felt better.  I wasn't alone, and what I was suffering from had solutions.  Maybe not a cure, but ways to push that mean old Critic out of the way so I could keep on going.  So if any of what I am writing about sounds familiar to you, take heart.  Go out and get yourself one (or both) of these two books.  And then, whatever you do, take a step towards your dream.  You will be surprised what happens when you do.

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”     ~Marianne Williamson

Sketchbooks and journals

Slowly, slowly, we are settling into the new home. It feels good to think that this should be the end of moving. Both Matthias and I are hoping this will remain "home" for a LONG WHILE. We've moved too much in the past decade, and have grown weary of it. Of course, one never knows what life will throw at you next, but here's to hoping we can remain in this one place for a while.

I am thoroughly enjoying the desert landscape. This may surprise some of you. I am not, and will probably never be, much of a landscape painter. I love the outdoors, and there is nothing that makes me happier than being out in nature, but when it comes to art, my passion is with humans. I love the study of human beings, both the inner and outer aspects. One might think, looking at my art, that only one aspect of my work indicates this love. However, the abstract work really is an exploration of the inner workings of what it is to be a human being. Priya recently asked me about my sketchbooks and journals, and where I work out problems in my art. In response, I will tell you that my abstract paintings are like a sketchbook, in and of themselves. I don't have a preconception of what a painting will look like when I begin. I simply begin to make marks. It is a risky way to paint, without this clear direction. Many paintings have such rawness, such ugliness of emotion and state of being that they cannot be signed as the kind of painting I want to show anyone or sell. That used to bother me, but now I recognize that this is just how I paint. I want to see the jarring edges, I like to leave a trace of where the painting started, just so that the journey is revealed. The times when a painting can be taken from the most naked initial feeling to a place of serenity and grace are the times that are the most deeply satisfying.

My sketchbook is more of a place to rest with drawing. I love to draw, any old thing, really, but I do tend to focus on creatures, hands, flowers, leaves, and small things that are right in front of me. Once again, the landscape is rarely ever the thing that I will sketch. I really don't know why this is. I am sure I could force myself to draw the landscape. But really, if I have to force myself to do it, what's the point? I have plenty of other areas of my life where I do things I don't want to do (laundry, scrubbing toilets, paying bills, working to make money, etc.) I guess I have always wanted my art to be the one area that is sacred, and just for ME. For whatever it is I want to draw, paint, or sculpt. I must have that, in order for my art to be mine, and to be the truth.

My journal is a place where I write, write and write. As I have mentioned before, I read Julia Cameron's book, The Artist's Way, about a year ago, and went through nearly all of the excercises she outlines. I found the journalling (daily pages) to be one of the best things for me, in my recovery and discovery. It helps me turn off that mean little critic, who sits in the back of my mind and tells me my work is awful. She is no good for me, and caused me to judge every little mark I made. It really gave me a place to put her, where she can stay happily (or unhappily, more likely) while I continue to be an artist. If any of you haven't read The Artist's Way, I will once again recommend it highly. It changed so many things for me with my art and how art fits into my life. Even though I have kept a journal since college, I had gotten away from it somewhat, and I am happy that Cameron's book brought it back to me.

On that note, I must get back to the unpacking of my studio, so that I can once again put paint on things.
P.S. I am happy to have my high speed internet back once again!