The Artist’s Way Week 5: Recovering a Sense of Possibility

The artist date has become something of a millstone. When I’m feeling energetic I write, make plans for new projects and contact friends. I feel guilty – contrary to my promise to be kind to myself – because I’m too busy to treat my artist. But what about the galleries I visit online and that TV show I watched where a lucky presenter reviewed the Warhol exhibition at the empty Tate Modern? I visit the National Portrait Gallery and search for portraits of writers and I’m distracted by paintings and photographs (who knew photography went back so far?) of the Barrett Brownings, Beckett and Bainbridge. I spend a long time with Sam and Beryl. Imagine being a great writer and photogenic to boot. Some people have all the luck, whereas the rest of us kick ourselves for not getting past B in our search results.

This week I am urged to examine how I ‘curtail [my] possibilities by placing limits on the good [I] can receive.’ Okay, I see that: I’m not good with praise and celebrating wins, whatever they are. This is because, according to Julia, ‘we don’t take ourselves – or God – seriously enough’. I read three dense pages which amount to God this, God that... and for the first time I seriously consider consciously uncoupling: ‘Thanks Artist’s Way, you were there for me when I thought all was lost, but I’m better now and can stand on my own two feet.’ Sometimes you have to tell little white lies to cut someone off. I know I don’t have to think of Julia’s God in a traditional way, but the tone is too evangelical for (my) comfort and some of the anecdotes feel a little, shall we say, creative. The phrase ‘leaps of faith’ jumps out of the text to remind me what this is all about and I give myself a talking to. I should be open to opportunity, ask questions, and see what transpires.

Under a section headed ‘Finding The River’, I agree that I am becoming more ‘open to the positive’. This is fantastic because that has never been my default setting. Furthermore, I am ‘less judgemental’ and I wonder if there is a camera or listening device hidden in the book, because lately I have been trying very hard to be just that. A thought strikes me: I’m going with the flow of the river. Apparently this is down to the morning pages and the use of stream of consciousness, which is loosening my hold on ‘fixed opinions and short-sighted views’. I am leaning into ‘creative expansion’ and that fits with me unexpectedly writing poems, micro fiction, non-fiction and monologues. I’ve also considered attempting a self-portrait, which would be my first stab at drawing for thirty five years. A passage about ‘The Virtue Trap’ advises me to seek out and embrace downtime and ‘creative solitude’ and to avoid trying to do too much for others when I could be working on myself. It’s not so easy to get on board with that, now more than ever when we are living in each other’s pockets and trying to look out for those around us, but I get the point.

It seems that I am now committed to working through the end of chapter exercises, having taken that particular leap of faith for the first time last week. Among the five things ‘I would try if it wasn’t too crazy’, I wonder what’s crazy about publishing an eBook of Christmas stories or launching a literary magazine and writing competition. If ‘it wasn’t too selfish’ I would go on a running holiday, take part in a writers’ retreat and stop watching TV in the evenings. I should move on and list ‘ten things I would love to do but am not allowed’, but we’re in lockdown so that list is too easy and too mundane to matter. Still, the writing competition crops up again and who knew that I dream of putting on a show? The other tasks are engaging, not least the 19 point wish list which is a mixture of hopes and dreams and desires to protect those around me. What’s interesting is that these lists and exercises are suggesting that I am more mature and resilient than I thought. Or hoped.

Towards the end of the week I notice my energy dipping and the unmistakeable breathlessness and quiet terror of anxiety. I had embraced my new positivity and ability to cope with this global shitstorm and it hadn’t occurred to me that regression was possible. I was feeling more courageous and had started to watch and read some news, but the jitters have returned and there are times when I feel as helpless and hopeless as I did before I sought help from The Artist’s Way. The next few days are going to be tough.

POST-SCRIPT: I don’t have a great deal to report about the experiment with reading deprivation. I had been reading sporadically at best and the only change I noticed was having a bit more time to think. That felt like a double-edged sword. In theory I can now read whenever and whatever I want, but I’ve abandoned fiction once more. It wasn’t all bad though, as the first of these articles was published and resulted in a lot of positive feedback which I did my best to embrace. Also, I finally launched a website to showcase my writing. I’ve been meaning to do this for, I don’t know, three years? I’m giving Julia Cameron full credit for that.

For Week 6, click here.