Athena Dreams Design: New Eyes .:. New Perspectives

Sometimes it just takes sitting in a different chair at the kitchen table and drinking my morning cup of tea (or coffee). Sometimes it is just standing in a different spot to look at the hills just west of our house, to see the colours that have been there all week. Sometimes just being able to see the same things in a new way only takes stepping around and over the old perspective, tilting the head, maybe a little squint to create a nice blur, and suddenly, I have new eyes.

That, and painting, reading, listening - all day in my studio. No breaks to do the things I really "should". No distracting myself with other "stuff". I feel more complete, I feel more at peace inside, I feel more positive and I feel like I have more energy. Now, the real test is: how do I get myself to remember that the act of creating is what renews and energizes me, pulls me out of the doldrums, cleans the cobwebs out of my head. That is the hard part for me, I let myself forget what I really need.

I had several beautiful reminders this week, and want to pass them along to anyone who is interested:

This wonderful podcast from Marisa at Creative Thursday. A wonderfully candid and generous talk about making money as an artist, the risks, the perils and the joys and how it all came together for this artist.

This beautiful post about giving ourselves the gift of time to create.

This moment with an artist and her cello.

New artwork and exciting news about a forthcoming book from this artist.

This honest and heartfelt series of posts from one artist's perspective of the Artfest experience.

Spending more time reading instead of watching movies: I am really loving all of these reads just now...

And the painting, and working on a canvas instead of a monitor...

is pure joy. After days, and truth be told, weeks of feeling stuck and tired and completely uninterested in my own artwork, my own creativity, and then, just a small shift in perspective (very much helped by the list above) and the metaphorical faucet is opened.

The central piece on this canvas board is a photo I took of my sister (standing) when she was about 10 or 11, and I was 15 or 16, on a beautiful summers day at Cranes Beach, looking for shells and the ever elusive blue sea glass, and I remember the thrill of learning and mastering my grandfather's old Leica SLR, printing this photo in the darkroom and feeling so completely happy and compelled to keep creating more, every free moment I had. That is the perspective from which I want to live, from which I want to experience this life, this moment.