Have you ever felt like you have missed the boat? That your hopes and dreams have sailed off into the sunset? It’s a painful realisation when it dawns. Here I am standing on the shore, anxious, frustrated and sad, feeling almightily sorrow for myself. The boat I am supposed on has left and in its wake are my unfulfilled expectations. That boat is sailing to sun shinny shores.

When I look back to when I was a young art student, green and gregarious, I think I was courageous. Perhaps that’s just the patina of nostalgia, but back then everything and anything seemed possible. The more avant-garde and post modern the more I embraced it, stretching the boundaries like a big empty canvas. As I remember, it was exhilarating.

Perhaps I’m grieving for the life I imagined as an artist, thwarted by my own criticisms, excuses and choices. The truth is I live with the drama of a creative life rather than participating in a creative life. Drama is my old friend and we get on famously - darling! With Drama I know I my complaints, raves and reasons for not pursuing my art are heard, at least Drama acknowledges me.

But something is changing, I’m not sure I enjoy hanging out with Drama any more. It’s no longer fun and I am starting to criticise Drama’s faults. I fear my relationship with Drama is coming to an end.  Did I just say that in my out loud voice? Is that what that foreboding feeling is? Ending a relationship is hard, scary, and sad. How do I break it to Drama that it’s over?  ‘It’s not you, it’s me’, ‘I need some space’, ‘it’s just not working for me’ or ‘I will call you sometime’?

My answer is baking.  I will bake it till I make it. I will brew, stew, slice, dice, knead, mix and stir until new ideas rise and fresh perspectives emerge steaming and golden from all that heat and radiation. Baking is creative and nurturing, it’s like nesting, building a little refuge of safety in preparation for the birth of something new.  So I will bake until Drama has found a quiet little corner to rest and my new friends, courage, joy and surprise come out to play.

PS. Sponge Cake with fresh Strawberries and Cream, Giant Choc Chip Cookies, Apple and Rhubarb Crumble, White Chocolate and Macadamia Cookies, Chocolate Cake and Upside Down Apple Yogurt Cake has all been winners.

What happened to my inspiring Sunday?When the air was crisp with new possibilities and I believed in the verve of creativity. Grey mist has rolled in, mudding my dream. In cold winters light of day, leaves are falling from my backyard trees, exposing bare limbs and branches.  I have to dig deep to find the seed that spouts new growth of creativity and artistic work. I am only two weeks into creating my writings in this blog and it has already exposed my weak points and frailties. Without the protective layer of lush verdant growth a few of my branches have snapped.

I don’t know about you, but quite regularly I have conversations with myself. I talk to myself, about and with myself and these conversations never go anywhere. I am not admitting to madness, but the argument I have with myself keeps going around. I blame myself for not doing more, and then blame myself back. I criticise my work, then criticise back, I vow to do bigger, better, more, then vow back to myself that I won’t. Argh! The branch snapped!  My natural tendency is to believe I am failing if things aren’t going to plan or the way I expected. A reality check is way overdue here and it’s biting down hard.

I bit back this week against over analysing and anxiety. I gingerly approached that creamy piece of new art paper. I soaked it with endeavor, it buckled under the pressure, I stretched and pulled it into shape, taped it to my board and stopped it from escaping. I dribbled, dabbed then drowned it in colour and let it rest to dry. Now it waits patiently for me to return while my artist self draws the next seed of inspiration.

The truth is, creativity will rarely strike me with its magical nectar, overflowing with juicy inspiration, ideas and energy; it won’t deliver from its golden trident a direct dial-up call of creativity. It’s much simpler than that. It’s what I’ve known all along; however conversations with myself have hidden it away in my top pocket.

Creativity is like this mountainous cold grey winter morning, dormant and quiet until new seasons bring change. Change is granted and I now give myself permission to just turn up every day in my creative life. Let’s see where that takes us.

Mountainous cold grey winter_from my viewpoint

Once in a while a Sunday comes along that inspires dreaming. Normally Sunday ushers in Monday morning and the thought of navigating another week through projects and clients. But on this Sunday, in my part of the world the bright blue sky conspired with the crunch of my kids playing in piles of fallen Autumn leaves and the smell of my neighbours steaks on the BBQ with the feeling of fresh cut grass between my toes. This Sunday is the kind that makes you believe anything is possible.

I’ve had a illustration sitting half finished on my easel in the corner of my office/studio for months now. I don’t even see it anymore, and the feeling of “oh, I really should be doing some work on that” is long gone. But today I replaced it with a brand new, creamy sheet of 300gsm Stonehenge with ripply woven dimples and feathery edges. There is always so much anticipation and reluctance to make on mark, but the delicious seduction of starting, of creating of beginning something new is so intoxicating, I want to put a mark on the paper NOW!, and there lies my problem.

I am one of those types who loves the big idea, the fever and spontanaity of starting something new. I’m not so great on planning and ‘seeing it through’. Sure I have done lots of finishing, especially given I work with deadlines pretty much everyday.  I love the dreaming, the ‘what if’? and really committing to a finished work within a time frame is a struggle.

So here is where my new blog comes in. This blog is about my own creative life, the stuff I dream about, the projects I wish I had time to start, accomplish and finish. This blog is about checking in and keeping me on track, and I figure there must be other creative souls out there dreaming up wonderful and inspiring things ‘n’ stuff who might like to join me along the way.

So here’s to one inspiring Sunday…and believing anything is possible.

Henri Matisse, French Artist. (1869-1954)