Category: fear

Just a Wild and Crazy Me

Figure, cropped, charcoal on newsprint (c)1976 DST

Who doesn’t worry?  Who doesn’t feel fear?  Is there anyone who doesn’t feel panic once in a while?  Or is it just me?
I’m chugging away reading Walking in This World from the Artist’s Way series of courses on creative blocks.  Week 9- Discovering a Sense of Resiliency, talks about creative people being prone to apprehension and skittishness.  Panic is described as an escalating sense of terror that floods and immobilizes by the ‘glare of change’ as, “How am I going to get there?”  Worry is unfocused anxiety that distracts us from a real fear.  Fear, they go on to say, is not obsessive like worry or escalating like panic, but is reality based and is our ally.
As far as we creative people are concerned, the more active and negative our imagination is, the more creative energy we have.  Well I’ll be darned!  If I knew that I guess I would’ve felt better about being a panicky, worry wart, fearful, superstitious neurotic!  
“Fearful and neurotic people are those with the best imaginations. Worry is the imagination’s negative stepsister.”

Oh gee, I’m so happy to know that!   So when my mind is racing and talking to me from every where blabbing it’s big mouth, my creative juices are actually working?  What a relief!  I thought I was just crazy!

The writing of Morning Pages should work to rid us of negative energy and talk because it siphons off the worry at the start of the day.  In the pages I can name, claim, and dump most of my negative talk, anger, fear about all sorts of things and people.  Dump the stuff in the page, close the book and walk away.    Nausea, asthma attacks, stomach upset are all from worry and we need to recognize it as misplaced creative energy.  Is it possible this book right?  Wow, who knew?

Fear is scary, we think, but what we fail to see is that fear is positive.  “Fear is a blip on the radar screen.”  The author suggest we give Fear a pet name.  Ok, now what kind of name can I give my little side-kick?  I’ll have to think about that. 

Fears are base on inaccurate info.  When fear kicks in we are supposed to reach for action.  Fear is sending a signal, but what’s the signal mean?  Do I need Morse Code to figure it out?  How about when you’re in the middle of a full blown panic?  Tell me I can think of what the signal is while I’m waiting for my racing heart to slow down. 

I don’t know, but I’m writing it all down in the Pages every morning like clock work.  Well, now I feel really good knowing that all my craziness was just me being such a wildly creative artist! (Hand over mouth, laughing out loud!)

The "F" Word

Despite the fact that I’m in the middle of reading two books about artist’s block, resistance, whatever you want to call it, I’m allowing all that to continue right about now.  The only positive thing is that I can identify it for what it is.  And what it isn’t is the big “L” word: lazy.  Lazy is not an acceptable term in the Artist’s Way and War of Art vocabulary.  Not acceptable.  The acceptable term is the “F” word: fear.  Why fear, you might ask?  Fear takes many forms, some of which seem like lazy, bored, tired, distracted.  All of this stems from fear.  Fear is the really big “F” word.

What’s fear got to do with resistance to create?  The obvious fear is of failure.  The talking in one’s brain that says “Why’d you put that color there? What’s up with the composition?  How come you didn’t think before you messed up that painting? It was coming out so well and you went and ruined it. Dang!” 

On the same track is the fear of success.  Now that’s a heavy one!  Feeling good about a work and having others agree brings the fear of being out there, the fear of the next piece not being as good, the fear that now the artist is the focus. And that scratchy voice starts saying, “What’s your big problem, you idiot?  Get your stuff out there!”  Big thing, that fear.

I can’t wait until the morning so I can write the Morning Pages journal to tell the voice to shut up. 

Then the blocking comes in and all work is at a standstill.  The play stops too.  The excuses not to continue begin and that annoying voice starts yapping anew: “The light in the studio stopped working altogether.  Until I call that guy to fix it I can’t  work on the painting.  I have to pay a guy to come and fix the light and money is tight right now.  I’m tired of all the snow, I may as well have another cup of coffee and watch the flakes fall.  I feel blah.  I’m annoyed at so and so.  Maybe that work is not as good as they, or I, think it is, what do they know?” Get the picture?

Oh yeah. I’ve become well aware of Resistance alright.  I know it, I can feel it, I’ve identified it, and I still can’t move through it, even by the process. The War of Art, as kick butt as that book is, is not kicking my butt hard enough!  Do I need to have someone put a garbage can on my head and bang it while kicking my butt one foot after the other?

Something clicked on in my head while painting my son and his bagpipe, and I know that fear took over.  I was too happy with the way it was coming along.  Anytime I feel really happy and good, something happens to squash all the good vibes.  He began to have an issue that came to light since I started the work and I think I’m feeling resistance to continue because somehow, in my mind, I feel, I don’t know if this is the right word  but, responsible for it in some way.  It’s a long, stupid story, but what he’s working on, and having a problem with egos, involves him playing that bagpipe.  So the primitive side of my brain says it was my fault he had to confront someone by standing up for himself and his art.

Is it realistic?  Nah, probably not, but my brain may be using that as the block of the moment,(that and my other to-do’s.)  Sure, why not?  Looks like Resistance is hanging around longer than I’d like. He’s outstayed my generous welcome and the time seems to have come for me to kick his butt out the door.  (Notice I’ve given it a male gender.)

Anger is powerful, too.  Anger is action.  And enough is enough.

I’m Stuck, Where’s my Crayons?

Did you ever get stuck?  I don’t mean stuck by the monotony of everyday life and looking for an adventure.  What I’m talking about is the stuck in the middle of too many things on my need-to-do list and no time for what I like doing.  I get paralyzed when I can’t decide. 

Play with the paints or vacuum the carpets.  Doodle at my desk or do the food shopping.  As a home-based artist I always have the little nagging feeling that the family and house comes first.  The distraction of deciding could take up the day leaving no time for playing!  I want to play all day and I can’t and it makes me angry! (Stomping my foot and holding my breath until I’m blue.)

So I’m reading The Artist’s Way, still.  There it is in black and white, that the inner-child artist needs to play, or else.  The “or else” could become self destruction!  And play is less scary than work.  Artist’s use distractions as excuses not to work because the idea of the resulting outcome is a scary idea. 

It’s fear.  We’re afraid the outcome won’t be any good.  Will anyone like it?  And if they don’t like it, will I question my talent?  It’s all so scary that we avoid doing everything but art.  If I don’t keep at it some one else with less talent than me will get ahead because they know how to talk it up and they keep at it.  Sure, those kind of people have no fear!  Arggh!

The book says it’s the job of the artist-adult to allow the inner-child artist to rant and gently turn the situation around, a creative U-turn.  Just hand that “child” crayons and paper.  Ignore the tantrum.

It’s the process that is important, not the outcome remember?  Yeah, I remember.  It’s the dream of the artist to be painting all day, but it’s not a reality I guess.  Ok, I’ll find some time between laundry loads to doodle.  Sorry, I forgot.  Okay, I had my tantrum, I feel better now.