lately i’ve been thinking endlessly about being a maker, a creator, curator, manipulator, shape shifter, beauty wrangler. it weighs on my brain more hours of the day than not. for some reason, going home to the tiny beach town where i first started stretching my legs into being a real life human being stirred up a little more than i wanted to be ready for. it only took climbing to the top of an all too familiar sand dune and breathing in the brisk lake michigan air for all the things that have changed since the last time i took that same perch to unravel in front of me. that headspace brings a nice contrast not only to where i've come from, but also some clarity as to where i'm going.
i’ve been thinking about finding the balance between having organization within those things in order to make yourself a better maker, and living with a reckless abandon and a fleeting dispassion for the "rules" to feel that burning feeling of being alive when something is suddenly coming out of your fingertips or rolling off your tongue. but on the days where self doubt is crushing me into the ground, i need that dumb nightly reminder on my iphone asking me if i’ve made anything today. i’ve learned that making things when it’s hardest is just as important as making things when it feels as easy as the air moving through your lungs (although even that isn’t always easy). i need to be pulled into places that i wouldn’t go willingly. i need to stare right into the face of the human i was five years ago, the one who sat on the top of that same sand dune thinking about what it means to be alive, hug the mistakes that still rest in the shadows of the places i’ve come back to revisit. i need to laugh about how much mother nature and the weather has my well-being wrapped around their beautiful little fingers. i need more nights spent lying on the floor staring at a bumpy ceiling with another human being who happens to have parallel enough thoughts as me that we both might be lucky enough to help each other along in figuring out what it means to be alive. i need to hold close the people who aren’t as far along in the fight. and hold close the ones who have made it a little farther and can see where i’m at and tell me i’m doing pretty okay. i need to just keep holding everyone close. i need to be more okay with being utterly ineloquent. to speak my mind when i don’t exactly have the perfectly formulated response that’s waiting and ready. i need to show the parts of me that are incomplete and in the works and have inconsistencies. i need to be okay with contradicting myself. i need to feel comfort in knowing that the art that comes out of me will be inconsistent and contradicting and sometimes incomplete and bad and not what i want it to be, and that that’s all a part of the process. because the process, the experience, above everything else is the most important thing. why else would i still be hanging on for dear life if it weren’t for it?