I count minutes before I must, I mean MUST get out of bed each morning,
I count scoops of coffee so I can get out of bed each morning,
I count numbers of orange cars that pass by,
I count events that cause me great pause as a chance to learn something,
I count the amount of notifications in that little red box,
I count dollars and cents and breaths between the dollars and cents,
and on, and on, and on.
Counting is something that must be done, must be part of our daily functions because we record things numerically, whether we realize it or not.
As I sat down this evening to work on my journal, numbers seemed to be all around me and I knew they were calling out to me...counting the minutes before I acknowledged their presence in my world. The pages I chose showcased two of Leger's abstracts, made with geometric and organic lines, full of patterns which, underneath all of that, held the power of numbers, so it was a perfect choice for today.
I cut, I pasted, I viewed the numbers and what they might mean to me, and I then chose to release control and allow the numbers to reveal their artistic measure, rather than their numeric. What occurred to me was a conversation I had in my head about how artists tend to get stuck on controlling the outcome, counting the steps to get things right, and I knew embracing the freedom of 'record keeping' was the message I was hear to learn today.
Life is full of moments, beautiful, tragic, graceful, remarkable moments. If I could go back and tell my younger self anything it would be to value the moments of the mundane, for they are what bind the red letter ones together. I will sit with the numbers message this evening, tinker with it, meditate on it, and learn from it. While I do that I will relish in the realization that art journaling created without expectation of "getting it right," is way more powerful than any forced journal page. May I apply this tidbit of living throughout my moments tomorrow.