The memory of ‘nimble’; the delight of ‘slow’.

Surely, after 70 years of practicing the pivot, I would be nimble by now. Seems like I used to make quick turns easily—and then back again. No problem. Perhaps the apex of my agility passed decades ago and I’m just now seeing it’s fleeting shadow in my rear-view mirror. Perhaps my solid self-worth has served me well, but reality is having its say.  Whatever.

This week has allowed me to participate in my kids’ lives by way of care and service. Sick mama. Kids needing transport and feeding. Puppy needing care.  I’m happy to help.  I freely laid aside my ‘art practice’ in service of those I love. Actually, the fact is that my ‘practice’ is the service of those I love. The new addition is my attempt to develop a more robust and consistent creative practice. 

I returned to my desk yesterday, well-heaped with raw materials and ‘starts’ and with fuzzy head tried to pick up the threads of where I left off. I stared. I played games on my phone.  I watched on YouTube 82-year-old Donald Jackson, calligrapher to the Queen say again, KEEP PLAYING. I reread Adam Moody’s word to me:  “MORE CALLIGRAPHY”.  I stared some more. Then a deadline arose—kids coming in 25 minutes. I set a timer.  I picked up the paint. I moved. 

And there it was again. The spark. The magic. The memory of why I LOVE this work. Maybe the speed of my pivot is no longer a thing. The turn, however slow or delayed—that’s still important.  The RE-turn. There’s the practice. Below is a piece of a ‘calligraphic’ painting in process. More to come. Slowly.