Over on the Presence Forum, we’ve been discussing what brings joy. What’s your joy?
When am I happy? I’m happy when I’m creating something. There is some fountain within me that needs to mold, bend, shape, form, transform the things in front of me to something whole-ly new. My usual medium is textiles, but I’m always open to new creative experiences. I’m happy when I’m in my studio with whatever music that moves me that day on…80’s.. classical.. Harry (Conick Jr.)…and I’m free to just “make” (feel free to read in between the lines “no one needs fed, driven somewhere, their greivances disputed, or has just pooped themselves”). I love it when I can learn something new to incorporate, to stretch myself beyond what I was yesterday, to grow beyond what I thought I could do as an artist.
Where do I find joy? In silence. I get about an hour or two a month of silence. It’s so rejuvenating. Oh, also I’ve found joy in making my new blog. It doesn’t even matter if anyone reads it, it has just been fun to write things down and crack myself up.
Where am I looking for joy? I think I unconsiously look for it in my family. I think perhaps I should not. These are people who are on the journey WITH me, not for ME. If I look for my joy in them and do not find it (or in their mounds of ever-multiplying paraphanalia they leave laying around the house and refuse to EVER acknowledge, much less pick up) then I will be dissappointed and my dissappointment will be felt BY them. If I look for joy only from within, they are free to be who or what they are that particular day with the pressure of having let someone down. They do not need to be joyful in order for me to feel joyful.
Where have I not found it? The laundry room, where my laundry has grown in proportion to the point that it feels justified in filing documents to declare itself a soveriegn nation.