What if you gave yourself PERMISSION to change your mind - to dig even deeper than what you thought you wanted to say - to question even the parts of yourself you believed to be true? What if you went past the pleasant voice saying, "I love making art" to the furious voice that says, "I detest this torture!" And then, deeper still, into the green goddess of the heart, to peer into the vast unknown calling out, "What is? What truly is here?" What might you find in the shadow under this rock?
This is the shedding of the snakeskin that layers on the pressures of should's and want's and cant's and wont's and will not's but I have to because: I should be better than I am, I should be further along by now, I should love the process. But I am not, and I don't. What does PERMISSION to be vulnerably honest yield?
To shed it's skin a snake must lodge herself tightly between two close rocks and writhe and squirm until she creates enough force and pressure, struggling for just long enough to get through the other side, leaving her empty shell behind. She has less, but more. Now, with nothing left, no skin of ideals or false scales of self to cling to, what remains in your heart to be heard?
What if you gave yourself PERMISSION to break the deterministic chains of your ideals? What if you had PERMISSION to change your mind and to courage to see your shadow under the bright sun of perfectionism?
The path to awakening creative intention is the same intimidating road to hell paved by the desire for spiritual enlightenment - any easy answer is not worth listening to or stopping for. Our deepest artistic intentions do not sit on the surface of the mind, or the heart, but are found through giving yourself permission to dig gently and the bravery to see what's really there and shed what you thought you were making and let the clouds cover what they must, and the rocks tear away what they can.