It has been an awfully long time since I wrote something. I can’t explain why it has become so hard to write, as I dearly love writing - sometimes I even think I love writing more than painting. And at times it is hard to pick up the brush as well - I get anxiety at the thought of picking up the brush, but then as I ran out of excuses, I do it anyways - I pick up the brush and let it come. Honestly - it happens that it’s pretty ugly what appears, but I already know that if I stay with it, something will unfold, something worthwhile. The same thing must be true about writing. But perhaps if I love writing even more, also the anxiety is even more, the fear of not producing anything worthwhile - and causes the self-blame and feeling of worthlessness. I guess I have developed expectations for how my work is supposed to turn out. When I just started painting and writing, it was pure joy, an exciting exploration, a play - no expectations for the outcome - just a flow that started off with following a tingling feeling inside, an invitation to come out and play, an urge to be engaged. With a child-like curiosity - innocence - that could be a topic for another post.
What I wanted to share today has to do with this urge in particular. The topic came up during an artist webinar I am participating in. We were speaking of soul. Later on another participant asked us to share in writing about our soul’s urges and this is what poured out of me immediately as a response:
I think soul is not here to serve my mortal self and ambitions of my mortal self, it has its own ambition, which is beyond this life spin and so I may not comprehend why do I have these urges, how does it make sense and where it can take me. I also don't count on making sense of it all during my lifetime, although I have great desire to understand and see through the veils. Painting is one of these soul's urges, any creative process, any irrational act - any uncalculated act really. I think that only by following these urges I get glimpses of what's behind the veil. And I most arrogantly assume I know something about the soul, while I probably know mostly my soul via resisting its urges. For soul wants much of what I suppress for the sake of propriety. I think if we all started following our soul right now in each and every moment, we'd be considered madmen. I think soul is not a gentle creature. It is immensely powerful force and it does have a power to drive people mad, if they have a tendency to be more tuned in with the soul than the physical realm. Yet mostly we are not enough tuned in with the soul. Question is - what damage happens if we do not listen to the soul at all? Perhaps madness comes also from resisting soul's urges? As plain as it sounds, perhaps we need to utilize our rational mind to create safe container for our soul to express itself in all of its irrationality? Being an artist I think is about having a good chance at being an instrument in service of the soul, which has ambitions beyond ego self. It is a way to escape the ego and be part of something bigger, something that reaches beyond the reality we can observe.
In that moment I felt my soul was speaking and I could have gone on and on, but I judged it to become „too much“ and stopped there. Now I have no idea, what were all those thoughts that wanted to be expressed. Moment of inspiration is gone. But I remember thinking that being an artist is like being a shaman - you must be able to manoeuvre in both realities - physical and non-physical. You must be tapped into your soul and grasp the material plain at the same time. 100 % spirit and 100% matter. I want to end this discourse here, as I feel anxiety arising - so much that I’d love to express, but feel that abundance of words will not serve the purpose.
Perhaps as the last sentiment on the theme of urges - have you experienced how the things that make the least sense in the moment, end up having the deepest meaning in the long run? Those things that come up as an irrational urge and we ban them from our consciousness as irrelevant, nonsensical, even harmful? In reality they just scare us because they are the portals into the unknown, beyond the grasp of our control - and there it is where we are granted the glimpses behind the veil. They are the white rabbits, calling us to be Alices, to come and play, and in the process - grow beyond the limitations of our habitual, well examined, unadventurous perception.
I think soul is not here to serve my mortal self and ambitions of my mortal self, it has its own ambition, which is beyond this life spin and so I may not comprehend why do I have these urges, how does it make sense and where it can take me. I also don't count on making sense of it all during my lifetime, although I have great desire to understand and see through the veils. Painting is one of these soul's urges, any creative process, any irrational act - any uncalculated act really. I think that only by following these urges I get glimpses of what's behind the veil. And I most arrogantly assume I know something about the soul, while I probably know mostly my soul via resisting its urges. For soul wants much of what I suppress for the sake of propriety. I think if we all started following our soul right now in each and every moment, we'd be considered madmen. I think soul is not a gentle creature. It is immensely powerful force and it does have a power to drive people mad, if they have a tendency to be more tuned in with the soul than the physical realm. Yet mostly we are not enough tuned in with the soul. Question is - what damage happens if we do not listen to the soul at all? Perhaps madness comes also from resisting soul's urges? As plain as it sounds, perhaps we need to utilize our rational mind to create safe container for our soul to express itself in all of its irrationality? Being an artist I think is about having a good chance at being an instrument in service of the soul, which has ambitions beyond ego self. It is a way to escape the ego and be part of something bigger, something that reaches beyond the reality we can observe.
In that moment I felt my soul was speaking and I could have gone on and on, but I judged it to become „too much“ and stopped there. Now I have no idea, what were all those thoughts that wanted to be expressed. Moment of inspiration is gone. But I remember thinking that being an artist is like being a shaman - you must be able to manoeuvre in both realities - physical and non-physical. You must be tapped into your soul and grasp the material plain at the same time. 100 % spirit and 100% matter. I want to end this discourse here, as I feel anxiety arising - so much that I’d love to express, but feel that abundance of words will not serve the purpose.
Perhaps as the last sentiment on the theme of urges - have you experienced how the things that make the least sense in the moment, end up having the deepest meaning in the long run? Those things that come up as an irrational urge and we ban them from our consciousness as irrelevant, nonsensical, even harmful? In reality they just scare us because they are the portals into the unknown, beyond the grasp of our control - and there it is where we are granted the glimpses behind the veil. They are the white rabbits, calling us to be Alices, to come and play, and in the process - grow beyond the limitations of our habitual, well examined, unadventurous perception.
Thank you,
explore, enjoy and expand,
Ethel.
See my artworks,
visit EthelsArts on Facebook and Instagram
and contact me for inquiries and collaborations - all good willed posts are welcome :)
Ps the paintings used to illustrate this post are my earliest works, playful explorations with no expectation for the outcome.
explore, enjoy and expand,
Ethel.
See my artworks,
visit EthelsArts on Facebook and Instagram
and contact me for inquiries and collaborations - all good willed posts are welcome :)
Ps the paintings used to illustrate this post are my earliest works, playful explorations with no expectation for the outcome.