What have I done!?
Have I just attempted to take myself seriously? Too seriously? At a time when I don’t ‘deserve’ to?
I’ve attempted to put myself out there.
For a minute there, I was in a state of panic because I thought I put myself out there as an ‘artist’. And I felt like a fraud.
I am not an artist? Am I? But my current practice is this:
– watching my son create the most splendid installations around our home. Installations that make me awe struck.
– contact improvisation jams with my son while making sure he doesn’t rip my hair out from my scalp.
– an addiction to creating inside and outside play spaces that provoke and inspire him and his friends.
– carrying, lifting, nose rubbing, back rubbing, cuddling, rocking, being silly.
– an obsession with tiny worlds through terrarium making and ogling.
– singing lullabies and duet improv jazz numbers…off key by the way…but on key enough to help him sleep or smile.
– noticing the simplest of moments and feeling so lucky to have seen it.
– so much walking.
– spontaneous adventures.
– occasional lounge room dance offs.
Am I a fraud?
On one hand I think artists who don’t live life surely can’t frame it. And believe me I am living life right now.
On the other, I have been told by many, “If you are not doing the work” you are not an artist.
How dare I create a Facebook page under` the category of ‘artist’. Am I demeaning all of those hard working artists who are “doing the work”!? daily, I really hope not.
No. I’ve been an artist since I was born. It’s how I see the world. It’s how I think. There were times in my life when I had a daily practice, and then there were times I couldn’t. Or just didn’t (more on that in a later post).
This is the longest period though, so I do feel like a fraud.
I promise you, and myself, though that the tears behind the eyes. The pain behind the heart. The unframed joy. The adrenaline from running from a big bad wolf, the fear. The love for my child. The awe of his innate artistry. The stories that have piled up. Untold. Will be. In the way I have always know best to tell them, since i was 5 years old. My little rain dance.
I think I am warming up. I am sorting the beans. I am taking a very slow breath in.
I am seeking.
For a daily practice that realistically fits my life a a mother. And that fuels the telling of story through dance.