I've been working a lot lately. Job work, letterpress, bindery. Work in my own studio, and work at Oregon College of Art & Craft.
This makes me hugely thankful, actually. I feel so incredibly lucky to do what I do for a living.
But sometimes the work-work takes over a little, and the art work suffers.
Part of the art making process is what a friend of mine describes as the not work. The not work is what's happening when we do the dishes, fold the laundry, space out, play guitar on the back porch, cook pork ribs. The not work is actually a necessary part, an essential part of my process.
I've been in the planning, germinating, seeding stage of a project that's been held in my mind for over a year now. I'd love to start telling you about it...but I'm not quite ready. It's still in the not work stage. But this week I've been sitting on the back porch more, thinking about the work more, sensing that subtle tickle telling me it's time.
This week I'm going to throw my sleeping bag and my drawing supplies in the back of my subaru and take off for a few days. I hope to return with a little more not work under my belt, but who knows. It's about time, anyway.