The significant problems we face cannot be solved at the same level of thinking we were at when we created them. — Albert Einstein
My third year of full-time self-employment begins this week. I have a good week of work ahead of me: a summer shawl, a painted wrap and an apron to finish, next steps to implement on commissioned clerical stoles, online shop product photos to take and edit , and artist statements to write on two completed projects. I also plan to shop for fabric for a significant wall hanging and design a table blessing print.
Two years ago I addressed the problem of how do I produce income through the question, “What do I do?”.
Today I address the problem of how do I produce income with multiple questions. How do I work and live in a small space? What is the primary goal of this quarter’s work? What is the best source for my favorite textile paint? How can I best produce this image in multiple scales? Where do I find another market for my product? Who wants to use this? How do I create structure that will produce the work flow I desire?
Methodical practice of art has produced a different level of thinking. The adventure today is to see if I arrive at solutions. Are you changing your level of thinking? Who and what helps you change?
This is my year of listening. On Mondays I post a quotation from my collection, words that resonated the first time I heard them, and which continue to resonate. That is a plan for listening which I share with others. I also have personal listening that is about discovery. What am I hearing?
I started listening to Ted Talks as I work in the studio. I am listening to understand the size, structure, and energy of these presentations. I also get to think about topics that would not necessarily come across my radar.
I am listening to trusted voices. Good words come from folks dear to me, good and familiar books, and from those who share my path, if even for a short time. I also hear my own voice, sometimes more clearly through my visual art.
The best thing I am hearing is God’s laughter. Several years ago, I told my sister that I wanted a complex answer to a simple question. This was not a whim, not a clever sound bite, but rather a deep desire, a prayer. I listen and I hear complexity. How do I like this? God is laughing and I am dancing.
A schedule defends from chaos and whim. It is a net for catching days. It is a scaffolding on which a worker can stand and labor with both hands at sections of time. –Annie Dillard
section of Dancing at Midnight, textile wall hanging by Norma Colman