| For many years now, Sundays have been 'my' day.
By which I mean that they have been a day of no screens, no work, no agenda, and allowing myself to wander and wonder, and follow my energy wherever it wants to go.
I usually call them Silent Sundays, as typically I don't speak to or see any other humans.
{Although since Poppy came into my life, they're not quite as silent or still as they used to be!}
Sundays have been a soft place for me, especially as someone who has always experienced anxiety, which can get quite intense at times, and can require recovery periods.
A classic Silent Sunday includes any or all of the following {all of which I find restful and soothing}: meandering around the house, moving things around, sorting through things, looking at the light falling across a wall, baking, reading, doing a puzzle, writing by the log burner, and painting.
There's something about m e a n d e r i n g that I really love and find very restorative, and I think it plays an essential role in two ways for us as artists.
1. The restorative factor means it's nourishing and well-filling; it soothes, it shores up, it resets.
2. Quiet periods are important in both the artistic process and the work itself.
A painting needs places for the eye to rest as much as it needs action.
There are times in the creative cycle where not only is nothing apparently happening, but we NEED that to be the case, in order to process ideas, allow new ones in, percolate and wander, both internally and externally.
Back to back creating is neither sustainable, nor how creativity actually works.
Even if social media can make it seem like it's possible to be churning out work all day every day, indefinitely. 😉
I am in favour of Silent Sundays, single topic research rabbit holes, immersing in images, aimless walks, leafing through art books in the library, sitting and listening to the quiet, watching leaves dance on branches, floating in the sea, lying flat on the grass and looking at the sky, reading for pleasure, gazing off into space, writing because we feel like it, doing things without agenda.
Just writing this out made me take a deep breath!
The breath itself shows us how it works. There is a space between breathing out and breathing in, where 'nothing is happening'.
Without that we'd literally die.
This time of year typically feels very noisy, busy, rooted in the physical, with little space for deep breaths or meandering. And a lot of that is lovely, but without pauses, it can feel exhausting.
So really this week, I'm just saying - to myself as much as to you - let's remember that atoms are almost entirely made of s p a c e.
Space is part of the fabric of life; it's not just necessary, it's already there.
Sometimes we just have to find it and choose it.
Even if it looks like twenty minutes lying on the sofa with your eyes closed, while your dog, who did not get the memo, clambers all over you like you're a jungle gym. 😉
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