Girl, You Are Channeling Something

I don't want to give too much away. In fact, I am not sure why I am writing at all, other than I am excited. I am nervous. I am experiencing creative bliss. The process that is self-discovery in this MFA program has become momentous. I am barely managing to hang on for the ride.

I feel attached to my project as though it is hooked into the veins on my wrists and tugging towards its own creation. It is a struggle, but it is going somewhere, in a very real direction. It has a mind of its own and I am listening as closely as I can to hear the cues that I am supposed to respond to. In its own tricky way it is silent when I am not paying close enough attention and I fumble my way into accidents that lead to realizations that lead to art.

It is very hard to explain. People have asked. People I care about, but I can only say that it is better seen than explained. Better experienced than imagined. The funny thing is, there are some people that see it and nod and smile and say "Wow, that's artsy." I smile back but am not affected, because I understand, for perhaps the first time, that if you don't get it, it is not my fault, but the way the Universe has spoken to you versus the way the Universe has spoken to me. It doesn't matter if you get it or not. If you don't, thank you for your effort, but if you do, then you really do. And it is not just the art that you understand, but you understand me.

The epitomal example of this phenomenon would be class yesterday where our instructor, a brilliant and inspirational man named Tim, lightly touched the base of my image with his fingertips indicating that it was the image we would be talking about only to initiate a calm silence over the class. After what seemed like a great deal of time passed, one of my fellow students looked me in the eye and said, "Girl, you are channeling something." I smiled and looked into his eyes and nodded once. Because, you see, I am.

I am no longer shoving the process, but acting as a conduit for something that wants to get out. Something that needs to be stated. That, I am beginning to understand, is the purpose of the artist.