Isn't that a statement?
The War of Art.
Someone, somewhere, coined this phrase and I'm afraid I don't know who or where to give credit. I"m not going to google-fu either. Maybe another time, but not today.
Back to my war; This morning, I started reading an article By Wil Wheaton (the guy from Star Trek, the good Star Trek) and he had mentioned a book called The War of Art and I immediately quit reading the article. Sorry, Wil. Those words though, The War of Art. They struck such a resonating chord with me, that I just had to stop and do. do something. do anything. do art.
I don't have the foggiest idea what the book is about or what the meaning is for the author, whoever that may be. For me, the words are a battle cry. The world in which I reside, whilst seemingly tame and mild and maybe even charmed, is very often a battlefield. In my own head. In my own heart. The artist's heart is an angsty place. It's restless and overwhelmed and full.all.the.time.
It's not that I don't have something to write about, or create, or sew. It's that I don't know where to start, so I won't start at all. If I can't do the whole thing, why do part? It's a weird cyclical place that is just....frustrating.
It's not a small thing; This battle to get to the art. *deep breath* But, I'll just have to start somewhere, today. Today, this blog will have to be somewhere.
Post about something without fretting that the blog needs an update. Post about the season changing...post about your big blue whale.
Whut? Hahaha. I know. Let me explain. I got a new, to me, hay baler this summer and I needed to get it protected for winter's arrival. I don't have enough space in the machine shed (yet) so I decided to quickly tarp it.
Herein lies an immediate problem. I can't seem to figure out water. No really. Hey, you need something flat and level? I'm your girl! Water flow? Uh. nope. never. ever. Brian, sweetie, can you take a look at this? I think I did it wrong. Yeah. I also think I was an olympic gold, dam-creating, beaver in a previous life. What a mess
I grabbed some old brooms and got busy. I think I figured it out and I'm grateful that the rain was gentle this morning. We now have our very own blue whale at the farm. A Minnesota first!
Anyway, a girl has to start somewhere.
There. I broke the seal on that art.