It's been almost a month since I've posted and for that, I apologize. I had some stressful times with my Mom's health but everything is back on track and has been for at least two weeks and still....I've been unable to post and even more importantly, create anything.
Similar to writer's block, this is looking at things you normally love that feed the artist in you and not feeling anything. This is having a plate of really good food in front of you and feeling full. It's torture, it's unproductive, and it's actually uncomfortable (like if you normally go to the gym and skip a week). While spending the last few nights wondering where my inspiration had gone I finally decided to sit down and write about what's in my heart. I had to ask myself where I usually get my inspiration from and make a list. After a lengthy list it came down to; nature and love.
The most inspired I've ever felt was on a cross country drive with (one of) my very best friend and sister, Emily (the other best friends being my older sister, Vanessa, and The Mama). Why? Because I spent 24/7 with someone I love, exploring new places, and sharing memories. Before I moved from Boston I had been tinkering with the idea of moving far away and like a sign from above, I tragically lost every single thing that I owned in my apartment with the exception of most of my clothes and my pets. And for what I didn't lose, I was thankful. I am still proud of myself for how I didn't lull around feeling sorry for myself and as I went back to my apartment for the last time and threw what felt like my entire life out, the only things that upset me were the memories attached to each piece.
|Kelly Rae Roberts' "journey to her wings"|
I had to get rid of the paintings my sister bought me for my 29th birthday (by above artist). I hadn't even had them a year and here I was, throwing them out. But what hurt wasn't losing the picture, it was thinking about our week in York Beach, Maine in our cottage on the beach, the tattoos we got together (my very first and her 1000th - not really), the day it rained and we watched Michael Jackson's funeral on TV while she danced around shouting "WHEE!" instead of MJ's famous, "WHOO!" And all of this was just an extension of more memories. We spent every Summer in York Beach as a kid, eating the saltwater taffy and almost drowning in the 5 ft. waves. I also have an obsession with Michael Jackson and actually wrote that man fan mail as a kid. It's not the "stuff" in life I grow attached to, it's the memories. The thing I miss most that I had to get rid of is a scrap book The Mama made me with hundreds of pictures of my family growing up. It's the only "thing" I often think of.
|Long Sands Beach in York Beach, Maine|
My inspiration has always come from inside but I appreciate the triggers salt and peppered throughout my daily life. Those are God's little gifts and I've blocked them out the last few weeks. And alas....what is sitting in my closet under the window? Four boxes The Mama recently sent me as she packs for her own journey to New Mexico. I haven't opened them yet but I took a peek and the first thing I saw were a pair of Converse with cats on them (shoes my funky little Trishy wears and she used to let me borrow them) and a picture I made when I was 5. Unfortunately, I pretty much still draw the same but my heart's been lifted. It's time to buckle down and get back to my wings!
This is nothing but a long post advising you that if you've lost your creative mojo, spend quiet time, alone in a room with a few things that have significant memories attached to them and it can only aide you in your own personal artist's way. Love conquers all.....even creative blocks.