accept
throwing out everything you knew was true
each morning
starting again
from the beginning
or well before then
uncertainly
receiving just one certainty each day
some days, mine is a friend or a warm breeze or a cat
other days, mine is a poem or an essay or a book
let this one be enough for today
greed for more certainty isn’t necessary
here’s what is
slowing to notice what’s real
responding to that most deeply felt
hearing procrastination, singing
tasting fear and sorrow, retreating
smelling joy, escaping
discerning, until we notice what is
writing about farts
photographing old orange peels
composing wild flowers
painting scuffed kitchen-trim masterpieces
gushing about love
losing yourself in puzzles.
Artists prioritize noticing.
questions
can I offer up everything I am right now?
holding nothing back for later
for better times, places and people
that don’t exist?
can I make a choice on the sliding scale between noticing and judgement:
and in the moments I choose noticing,
create?
and in the moments I choose judgement,
wait? can I instead, then
go walk, dance, cook for fun
talk to friends, neighbors
sit with the pain
or lay down in sun beams?
until I re-member this vital part of creation:
prioritizing this one whole self?
can I learn that judgement is not my job?
can I release my corporate self?
can we live with “not good enough” every single day
recognizing that it floats with
“thank you deepest flaws, perfect as is”?
Can we recognize this as bliss, most days?
Can we bow more deeply?
time doesn’t exist
to be an artist
will take me at least one whole amazing lifetime.
Dear Rushy McRush Pants, can you slow the fuck down?
Allow seasons, tides, stars, and wild animal trails
to be our clocks and compass points now?
tickle tock
trickle sock
pickle pock
poodle plop
certainty
To be an artist
is a daily choice. Like being a friend
parent, and partner.
It’s not fancy. Beauty rarely is.
And at it’s core, it’s not hard.
The voice that says it is
is selling something
that you can no longer afford to buy, my friend.
Not when you’re an artist.
energy
The primary energy suck today
is you
fighting your own choice to be who you know yourself to be.
Becoming an artist isn’t about what we do
it’s about what we stop doing.
An artist is you:
every moment
you stop fighting yourself.
That is what one artist thought anyway,
sincerely and yesterday.