Morning Pages

My mornings are very different than they used to be. After so many years of setting an alarm, rushing to get out the door and juggling multiple deadlines, there is quiet. It took a while, but I am now used to the quiet, embracing it like an old friend.

For years I tried to follow the suggestion of writing “morning pages.” To get all the thoughts running through my brain in the morning out onto paper to clear my head to start the day. Trying different variations, it never lasted very many days in a row as it seemed to clutter up my mind rather than clear it, and it felt more like a task than a meditation.

About two years ago, I stumbled on to a YouTube video showing art as form of spiritual practice. Just a guy with a simple brush, some black paint on a white canvas, simply letting the brush flow wherever it felt like going. It was peaceful, beautiful, and I loved how it felt. I can do that! Why not??

To just create with no set goal? No plan? No need to make it look like something specific? No audience or feedback? Just relax and let the brush flow across the paper? Easy!

I got out some paint and a paintbrush leftover from an old paint-by-number that had been completed long before, got out a piece of printer paper and sat down at my table to get started.

Every old story I’ve ever been told flooded through my brain: You’re not an artist, what are you doing? You can’t just sit down and paint. This is outside your skillset. Art has to look like something, mean something, be good enough, please other people, be sharable, sellable.  If you’re not going to make this into something, get better at it, you are wasting your time doing something useless and unproductive.

Sheesh! It took me about 20 minutes of struggle and three pieces of paper before my grip on the brush finally relaxed enough for it to glide. 

Fast forward two years. That challenging and stressful start has evolved into a true morning meditation. I have now played with paint, markers, pencils, colored pencils and chalk in various combinations. The key word being “play.” Slowly, step by step, as I play with new art materials, the old stories are fading into the background.

My mornings now?  Roll out of bed, head to my art table, open the window to let in some fresh air (when it’s not AZ summer hot), sit and appreciate the morning, and listen to the birds in/around my yard. I may turn on some music or just sit in the quiet. I look at my art supplies and pick up whatever calls me. Pull out a piece of paper and just get started. It still takes a few minutes to let the brush/pen/pencil relax in my hand. I still start to question what I’m doing and find myself trying to make “something.” I hear the voice in my head justifying what I’m doing to some invisible critic.

Once the “noise” settles and my hand relaxes, other thoughts can roll through. With my hands busy and active, I find my creativity expanding into my thoughts. Ideas are able to come through. I gain clarity. Jot down ideas. The process clears my head and prepares me for the day in ways written morning pages never could.

Meditation takes many forms. Never would I have guessed this form of art would become mine.

The photos:

 One afternoon I walked into my “art room” and the sun was streaming onto my tabletop easel. It gave the illusion that the colored pencils were glowing. As I got closer, I also saw that the light subtly highlighted the texture of the paper I had used for the drawing that morning. So, of course, the photographer in me had to grab a quick snapshot with my phone before the light changed.