"And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom." -Anais Nin
I first came across this quote almost three and a half years ago. It was at a time where we were still settling in to a new community, my business as I knew it was failing, a good consulting gig was about to end. I knew I needed to dive back in to my art making practice in order to be a well rounded, functioning and contributing mother, wife, general human being... I needed to dive back in to it in order to breath (dramatic, I know...)
Around that time, I sat down with a big journal I had made and wrote the above quote and started drawing big blooms all over the pages. Shortly after, I created some black and white paintings based on it.
I was unfurling and somehow putting it on the page helped.
Almost two weeks ago as I sat down to paint my daily piece for #100daysoftracingmyhands I felt this unfurling inside me again. I also felt it in the group of nearly 400 people I had just spent the weekend at Camp GLP with. So, I did a painting. A visual reminder and offering for anyone and everyone sitting in this space of blossoming. I was leaning back in to that statement I shared last week from Brene Brown that creativity is the process of folding our experience in to ourselves.
I was excited and motivated and feeling full and ready to burst in to blossom.
I painted a closer view the following day enjoying the exploration of the flowers contained within the shape of my hand tracing.
By day 3 of the paintings I knew I wanted to zoom in closer still. I was starting to lose the excitement and momentum I had been feeling earlier in the week as all of the "but what next and how" questions started to rear their ugly heads. I started to inquire in the paintings and myself about this process of unfurling.
So the day comes that the risk it took to blossom becomes less painful than a bud, so you must. But how, in what sequence, and in who's if anyone's company???
The following day's painting, a closer look. What is each petal or does it really matter because in the grand scheme they're all part of the blossoming... Part of the flower. Maybe I don't need to be able to know or name each and every step.
In following days I zoomed closer and closer still. I was not quite done contemplating this question.
Then this morning I realized an important part of the story was missing. I was never acknowledging the bud, tight in anticipation, ready for the process, only just starting to begin. So I painted that, kind of a prequel and realized in doing so even though it's painful being so constricted, there is also beauty there.