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Sunday, March 23, 2003 |
My creativity coach suggested that the iron may be really wanting me to work with it - calling me, loving me, asking me. Because there are things only I can do with it. She also suggested that I post a statement on the wall where it will be like an encouraging friend.
While we talked about this, I remembered Ira Progoff's Mantra crystal idea. From a quiet, focused, meditative state, you let a phrase emerge - a sort of guiding phrase. You choose one with seven syllables. This is your mantra crystal. As you repeat this mantra crystal to yourself, you usually breathe in on the first three syllables, and exhale on the last four.
Long ago when I first worked in my blacksmithing forge here in the woods, I'd start very early. In the winter it was hard. My mantra crystal was "In cold darkness, fire burning." This encouraged me to go out into the cold dark, enter the cold dark studio, and make my fire. It also reminded me of my faith in the sacred fire in all beings.
After my coaching session, a current mantra crystal appeared: "Iron loves me, calls me to work." This makes me smile. It's now posted on the wall.
10:25:55 PM 
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When I'm doing challenging studio work, I encounter the same two dragons again and again. Of course I meet them outside the studio too. There's the dragon of Perfection. "Only do thing you can do perfectly - straight A all the way - preferably the first time you try them, effortlessly, and preferably at an extraordinarily young age." My current age, 59, gives this dragon an edge. It's hard to think of anything I could do now that would make me a child prodigy.
The younger I was, the more chance I had of appeasing this dragon. I could earn straight A report cards, get good scholarships and fellowships, and make the dragon smile with its great big teeth. We seemed to have a good relationship. Starting to learn blacksmithing changed our relationship forever. Starting at age 30, I was never going to be a prodigy. The worst in my beginning class, I was never going to be teacher's pride. Appeasing this dragon never works for me any more.
The other dragon is the dragon of Order. "Never make a mess. And never, ever, ruin or waste anything." I've mentioned that I grew up in a household of careful thrift. It was also a household of immaculate order. This made it a very nice home in some ways, and very inhibiting and constricting in others. Mainly, I notice that when I ruin something now, or almost ruin something, I feel a stab of terror as if there were still a giant Caregiver who could be angry or devastated or both, by what I'd done.
That's the thing. I know I've gotten older and craftier and bigger. The dragons are relatively small compared with my adult size and powers. But often I feel like a child when I encounter them. Then they loom very large indeed.
10:03:58 PM
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(total time today working on actual bowls: 3 1/4 hours)
Also, I did some color studies, mixing "darks" from my core palette to make a near-black with some zip to it. This was for one of the steel part of one of the paper and iron bowls in progress. At the end of the workday when I took a 5-minute walk, it dawned on me that the steel will look even better as a dark purple, maybe with a little phthalo turquoise mixed in. Oh well - I'll need the "near blacks" for other bowls.
The 3 1/4 hours was spent on two "drafts" of the iron for the other bowl in progress. My creativity coach had suggested that I say a loud "NO!" whenever doubts and criticisms started to creep in. I used this several times. After yesterday's session I thought I'd established a patient attitude. It was well tested today. I ended on a positive note. Definitely learned one thing - how to make graceful, not kinky or wavering, changes in the direction and angle of loops. This is crucial. So that alone made it a good work session.
I told myself that even if I make this piece to my satisfaction in the next day or two, I'll still want to buy more 5/16" round steel. So why not just expect to buy some more next week, and release any concern about "wasting the last pieces?"
At one point I used a technique that's served me many times in the past. I sat down in the studio "power spot" and wrote out "Obstacle:" and then listed the problems I was having with this piece. (Usually I write about just one obstacle, but in this case, there were about six interwined ones.) For some reason, for me writing the word "obstacle" works better than writing "problem." After describing the obstacle briefly, I write "Options:" and start writing. I wrote quite a few options, chose one to try next, and went back to work. Writing in this pattern: "obstacle:" followed by "options:" usually clears my head and gives me a lead to follow.
At the end of the session, I used another technique that has helped me for years. I added some notes to my "6 month" list for this bowl. This is another technique I learned from The Inner Game of Music, by Barry Green and Tim Gallwey. When I start a new piece, I head up a blank sheet of notebook paper with the phrase "If I were making this [whatever it is] six months from now, I'd expect to...." Usually I even note the month that will be six months later, to make the idea more real and vivid in my imagination. Then every time I make a mistake, come to something that frustrates me, do something the hard way, etc. - I write the positive version, the vision of how I want to do it in the future, on the "six months" list for that bowl. This tends to turn every mistake, mishap, frustration etc. into something positive. And it sets a positive expectation.
So I ended the workday tired - as if I'd pushed to my limit - and happy.
6:32:19 PM
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© Copyright 2003 Catherine Jo Morgan.
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