Wednesday, April 25, 2012

Woman Listening to Herself 1990

I've been part of a bicycle class for about seven months .  We've learned bike skills, safety, how to ride efficiently, and gotten in shape riding long distances up and then down  steep hills and mountains.  I'm known as the woman in the group who talks a lot.  The other women like to ride with me(I think) because I talk and distract them from thediscomfort of riding.  I seem to really need to talk, especially if I can help figure out people's complex psychological issues in the process.  However, when I'm working in the studio, I work completely alone.  I can't move forward if I'm talking or distracted by another person's presence.  It's not their fault of course, it's that I can't hear myself when anyone else is around.

Listening isn't easy.  I have to trick myself by starting something with my hands. It almost doesn't matter what, just so that I move out of my head and into the experience of making or changing something physically. Moving paint around has always opened the door for me, even if it's sometimes a struggle  to turn the knob.  The voice I need to hear is very quiet.  Often it's not even a voice, but merely an impression, usually fleeting.  It means that I have to try and quiet the normal din of voices in my head, but if I am listening for that wise, smart voice, it's like a hound casting for a scent, then finding and following it.  When I find that scent, or follow where my voice leads me, it's very intense and one of the best things about my life.  It's clear and purposeful, and gives me great joy, especially when I end up with an image I 'm pleased with.

1 comment:

  1. Dear Holly - Hello from one of your newest fans. I saw your exhibit in San Diego last week after hearing about it from Deborah Klochko. And I just love it - very raw and beautiful. I am a paper artist and always cutting paper - Deborah thought I might like your work because it too involves cutting and telling stories in a way.
    Discovering your blog and writing has been lovely and makes great reading.
    My husband lived and taught in Socorro, NM for many years. After we were married we lived there for a year before moving to San Diego. As he says, you can leave NM, but NM never leaves you. There are many days now that I long for the NM landscape.
    I wanted to say Hi and to let you know that I am sorry I missed your talk when you were here.


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