From the Executive Director
Rule of thumb: The more important a call or action is to our soul’s evolution, the more Resistance we will feel toward pursuing it … We’re wrong if we think we’re
the only ones struggling with Resistance. Everyone who has a body experiences Resistance.
—Steven Pressfi eld, theWARofART
This essay is a personal postscript to Andy’s essay about connecting to our real, and larger, life through the kind of art practice and community we offer at TDS. To
state the obvious, my administrative job is consuming, and especially so in the current economy where those of us who still have jobs at all must often do the work of three people. My commitment
to extending the benefits of studio practice to everyone is deep, but my personal studio practice has suffered mightily.
“No time” is a highly effective rationalization to self and others. Everyone sympathizes; rarely does anyone challenge the construct. Unfortunately, I’m old enough to know from numerous experiences
that once we truly connect, and more importantly, do what is necessary to stay connected, to what is important to us, we make time for it. I can only laugh, for example, at the distance
between my pre-motherhood sense of what I had time for and my post-childbirth sense. Somehow I found hours and hours I never knew I had, day after day, year after year, to feed, play with, rock, clean, cook for,
schlep, etc. the newcomer who was suddenly at the top of my priority list.
But I really hit a wall when it comes to art practice (see the quote above). Although I have been in an art practice since the beginning of TDS, I have done little for the last two or three years.
This fall I fi nally started enrolling in some classes, a sort of forced allocation of time for practice. (Note: it’s a huge relief to give up beating yourself up with “I’m a professional, I should be
able to practice on my own,” and admit, “I am currently incapable of setting a studio schedule and working on my own. So now what?”)
A few weeks ago I found myself tromping around the pond at Agua Caliente as part of a landscape class. The assignment was to do a line drawing of a landscape using value shapes. I understood the assignment,
have done the assignment, have actually taught the assignment, and I was paralyzed. I drew, I erased, I drew. I smeared, I erased, I stomped my foot and paced through the bushes. I drew, erased, dropped my
charcoal in the pond, felt the panic and tears rise. “This is really, ah,…abstract!” both classmates and teachers agreed at the mid-class check-in. I got some advice, went back to drawing, and breathed (thank you,
yoga practice). Suddenly, one value shape felt good, then another, I added a heavier line, then just that quickly was lost in the incredible late afternoon honey light, the rushes, the ripples on the water, the cheery greeting from two ducks…. It was suddenly the most beautiful of days in the most beautiful of worlds and I was connected to my life, all of our lives together as beings on this earth, and I was back in the world of practice
and time became something I had plenty of.
If you are contemplating taking your fi rst class, sign up now, not after the relatives leave or the painters finish in your living room. If you have taken classes, but haven’t lately, come back—you’re missed, and you are missing something. If you think you are beyond taking classes, think again.
—Lynn Fleischman
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