Wide Open Space

November holds a special kind of magic. A magic that until a couple of years ago, I often overlooked. This year, I feel its potency more than ever before.

Each year it starts with a whisper, a quiet beckoning. As if a spirit took hold of my shoulders and turned me away from the distraction of lights and noise and the things that pull me away from a current that runs beneath my feet.

Every November, I am gifted space. A lull between the hustle of events and the short burst of the holiday bustle. I find that at first this space is uncomfortable, that I want to resist it. Not having a focus or a deadline can feel simultaneously like a relief and too uncontrolled. I yearn all summer for space to create freely without any restrictions or boundaries and then when I arrive in this place, I freeze.

This year, I am trying to be a bit more observant of my own resistance, rather than reactionary. So instead of trying to fill my life with an endless thread of busy work, I am doing nothing.

I learned how this benefits me from two experiences. The first being that when I find that life is giving me space to pause and I try to barrel through, I am only met with resistance.

Each time this happens and I find myself in this incredibly frustrating space where I am forcing creativity or trying to make something work that isn’t working, I have learned it’s best to take myself for a walk. Walks, my friends, have led me to this second experience that always puts me right in my place.

Feeling resistance is my reminder that I need to stop everything I’m doing. And every time I find myself outside and in a moment of “ah, I think I’m being invited to surrender,” I look up, and I see a bird. Every. Single. Time.

What I have noticed about these winged creatures (especially the big ones like eagles and vultures) is that much of the time, they let the air guide them. They float freely, they don’t push against the currents. They know when to land and seek refuge in strong winds or when to let the thermals guide them. Birds also take a much wider view than I have down here. They see a picture much broader.

Birds have taught me so much about myself in the last few years, it’s is why you see a lot of them in my paintings.

I have learned that creativity needs space. Needs pause. Needs boredom, wandering, wondering, curiosity. It needs room to germinate and open and breathe. It asks that we don’t rush it, it asks that we let it carry us over the open field, to trust that there will always be wind to guide our wings.