'One must also accept that one has "uncreative" moments. The more honestly one can accept that, the quicker these moments will pass. One must have the courage to call a halt, to feel empty and discouraged.'
--Etty Hillesum

Sarah Ban Breathnach (author of Simple Abundance) had a really good entry for today:

"...accepting uncreative days as part of the creative cycle is crucial to your serenity. Uncreative days are real life. Every artist knows them, although few of us care to acknowledge this except in confidential whispers. But as you make authenticity your art you will know them, too. Uncreative days are the part of the yin/yang of artistic yearning.
It is so difficult to come to a halt, especially when we want to get on with our careers, relationships, health, creativity. But when you're too parched to pray, beyond tears, or too dreained to give a damn, it's time to cease and desist.
No, this does not mean you can quit. You still have to go through the motions, keep showing up for work: on the page, at the drawing board, stove, sewing maching, computer. Continue to prepare the canvas, moisten the clay.
Often the derailment of too many dreams can bring on a drought, but whenever there's a dry period, there's still plenty of Light. We're just blinded by dark dust storms. Arid despair can often result from nurturance deprivation: not eating well, not sleeping enough, working too hard and too long without anything to look forward to. If you're creatively barren, give yourself a break.
The hardest thing we'll ever do as artists of the everyday is learn to call an occasional halt. Today if you're feeling uncreative, don't despair. Start getting excited and save your strength. You're being prepared for a quantum leap in authenticity.
In the natural world, droughts depart as suddenly and as mysteriously as they arrive."
Sarah, you ROCK!

One thing I know for sure, is that with time, everything becomes clear, all questions are answered, what's broken is restored, new trails are blazed, hearts are mended, love returns and you will look over your shoulder, with a tear in your eye, at life's utter perfection.

Anonymous Author

I am only one, but I am still one; I cannot do everything, but still I can do something, and because I cannot do everything I will not refuse to do the something that I can do.

Edward Everett Hale

We ourselves feel that what we are doing is just a drop in the ocean. But the ocean would be less because of that missing drop.

Mother Theresa

It is not so much for its beauty that the forest makes a claim upon men's hearts, as for that subtle something, that quality of air that emanates from old trees, that so wonderfully changes and renews a weary spirit.

Robert Louis Stevenson

Hope is a waking dream.

Aristotle

it's so ironic because i just read a good friend of mine's blog(Mikie) and there are two similarities! first of all, she's been in a funk, just like me. she even used the same verbage i had, (in describing it to another friend --- Elaine), that i had to "get my groove" back! secondly, she was talking about getting a tin from Lawndale for the Day of the Dead show in Oct.
any artist can go to the Lawndale Art Ctr and pick up a tin to make an artwork with. the only "requirement" being that the sm sheet of tin must be somehow incorporated into the artwork.
it's alot of fun! i've been participating in the Dia de los Muertos for like 10 yrs now. it's always so interesting to see how many different interpretations there are. and how many different ways the artists use the tins. some are painted, some are framed, some are quite elaborate with electrical lights, fountains and orchestrated movements. some are so covered up, (with found objects, fabrics, wood, leather, paper, plastic, metals, wax, ceramics, mirrors, feathers, twigs, leaves, fur, etc), it's impossible to even see the tin. it is a great show to see!