Oh Tuesday, sweet Tuesday. As a creative with a necessary part-time office gig that I feel interrupts my flow, you know, it felt very much like a Monday. The weekend had been so delightful & productive, I was not ready to say good-bye to it. Waking up was rough. I awoke with this overwhelming feeling like this week just might kick my butt if I did't get my mind right.
Refusing to let it get the best of me, however, I pulled up two photos I took while photographing my work at a friend's studio on Monday. Both photos were right on time. One was of a orange buck that had printed on it the words "Let's Do This." The other was of words from the Common Prayer: A Liturgy for Ordinary Radicals book. I posted a photo of the prayer on my Instagram yesterday with the hope that the day would be a little less cluttered than the day before, that it would be life-giving & creatively productive... wildly productive even.
Well it turned out to be a pretty good day. There were one or two bumps in the road, but nonetheless it was a good day... especially in the studio.
I organized a bit, worked on a new painting, & was able to be still long enough to allow for the birth a new body of work I will be pouring into over the next couple of months. I'm finally combining all of the mediums that fuel me (photography, painting, writing & encaustic wax) to tell the story of how I learned to walk in the dark & that it is indeed possible to live... like really live & enjoy the heck out of life... even with pain.
Last night I started the process by adding more layers to a few woodblocks that had been sitting around my studio for the past few months. These blocks will be the resting place for photographs & lines from journal entries I've written over the past 2 years that shared part of my life's story--
from the point we found out I was pregnant
to when I went into premature labor at 22-weeks,
from when I held my daughter as she died upon my chest,
& all the days since a new normal for me began.
I may use my own script for a couple of pieces, but my plan is for most of the lettering to come from old discarded hymnals I acquired a little less than 2 years. We shall see.
Though I'm a bit anxious & even fearful, I'm willing to trust the unfolding.
Lanecia A. Rouse Tinsley