Sheltering-in-Place, Day 11
The text on the image reads
I am here in this moment, moving while standing still.
tl;dr: I need to stop trying so hard.
Dervishes. I used to love to watch whirling dervishes. I taught myself how to spin, to a certain extent, in a way like they do. It was a matter of placing the feet precisely, which became easier once I picked up enough speed. Not toppling over also became strangely easier the faster I went, as long as no one messed with me. At some point in the turning, things would stop being separate objects flying by. My field of view turned into a static element—an arrangement of blurring lines. The faster I moved, the less the world did. Then it would feel like I wasn't moving at all.
I saw a static image. My feet went up and down, being placed at angles. I would sweat. Rationally, logically, realistically, I knew that I was moving, spinning, whirling. It just didn't feel that way. It felt like I was standing still. It was really cool.
Last week felt, at times, like I was crashing around in waves while I tried to figure out what all this is now. I'm no philosopher. I'm a painter, an artist, maybe a designer. I don't really know what I am right now. And that has to be okay.
The goal for this week (because goals help me, whether or not I reach them) is to ride the wave instead of fighting it. If writing yet another artist statement makes my stomach churn, then I'll paint something instead. If I can't face my paintbrushes, I have plenty of photos to organize. I am here in this moment, moving while standing still.