Part 2 : Working out what was missing

How to get into the flow state : discomfort leads to clarity

Shop watercolors from Tuscany here

In Part 1 of this series, I talked about settling into a painting routine in Italy. While I can dish out some practical tips, getting into the creative painting zone is really a process that is an inner discipline.

When I arrived in Tuscany, there were so many inspirations, and I wanted to explore them all. I felt a sense of disloyalty if I only concentrated on one spot since it wasn't only the poppies and olive trees that begged to be noticed and captured with an artist's hand. There were lemons! Magnolia trees! Garden statues and the jasmine that filled your senses felt like a feast.

I even had to give myself a little talking-to and told myself to "feel" instead of "see." This always turns out to be a lively conversation inside my head since my work straddles abstraction and "something you might recognize." 

My "talking to" is a way to calm down and bring the sensory overload and the pressure to perform as an artist into balance. 

I reminded myself I came all this way to specifically let go of all the worries and cares from home.

This is a challenging task as we are building a custom home and studio back home which is running incredibly over budget, making me feel like I am being tossed around in rough ocean waves.  

Michael mentioned as we broke for lunch one afternoon that he had given himself a similar talking to as well, which was good to know since he looked like he was the picture of Zen painting out in the olive groves. I felt the complete opposite of Zen. 

I eventually found a spot tucked in the entrance to the old chapel on the property. It had a ledge to spread my supplies and views of the landscape one way and views of lemon trees the other. 

What was it that I was "feeling?"

I jotted some notes in my sketchbook.

Something was missing that I "didn't" miss from home, from the U.S. What was missing here? It was strange to phrase a question that way to myself, but I wrote it down anyway.

The pace was slower. The pressing noise was gone. I had just been to Rome, a big city, so I knew it wasn't just the quiet of the countryside making me aware of the shift. 

 I realized there was nothing frantic here. The farm felt alive and at peace, with a complete understanding of its cycles and reasons for being. One of the reasons I paint the natural world is because it is not at war with itself, has no problem-solving to do, no infighting, and just existing in all its glory and beauty. 

There was a lack of fear here. No worry. Nothing felt chaotic. 

 It was as if the little knot in my stomach, the tightness between my shoulders, had nothing to feed on. Our news channels, social media, and advertising feed us fear at home. "Expose people's pain points, and they will buy from you!!" is a familiar marketing directive. It is easy to let a low-boil fear take up permanent residence in your psyche. Fear, worry, and a chaotic need for solutions can become such a familiar set of emotions that you may not even realize how large of a role it plays in your life until you jolt yourself awake (I am not saying everyone should rush to Italy for a jolt, but...)

This quiet, soft, lush place with an occasional dog bark and a friendly Bonjournio was what I needed. Not just on vacation but every day. 

This was to be my takeaway: exist in a place of peace. 

Surrender the how. How will it all get done? Surrender the need for immediate answers. Trust the glory of the seasons, just like the farmers do. Get swept up in the lush romance of translating that trust and passion into art. That is what makes me the most fulfilled. 

I needed to let go of the fears trying to take up residency in my brain and body. 

I created a moment for myself in my chosen spot in the chapel. I plucked some wildflowers, laid them out to paint (I wanted to remember them), and placed them on the primitive altar inside. 

See art from Tuscany

I don't have all the answers, and frankly, I don't want all the answers. It feels good to admit I will just trust instead.

This is a challenging task. Since I have been home, I have fallen off the surrender and peace wagon on more than one occasion. 

My task as an artist is always to ask, "What am I feeling” and sometimes that gets tangled by “What do I want to say?” It is a nuanced dance to make sure I don’t assert what I think I want to say without checking in to see if it aligns with what I am feeling.

So here is the second round of tips to surrender into the flow state and remain there. 

1. Let go of preconceived expectations of what type of work you might produce. 

2. Let go of the idea of "waste." There is no such thing as wasting an art supply! It is all a lesson. Let go of the opinion that you could be "wasting" the most precious commodity, TIME. Einstein was right. It is all relative.

3. Take a deep breath and do an inner inventory. Is there something you can surrender or let go of which is on a low boil inside you?

4. Create a simple action or marker to remind yourself you have let it go. (I decided the art and photography from my trip will serve as reminders.)

The Gift

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