The time finally came to return to the river after a brutal Midwestern Winter. The first day on the water for the year is always special, no matter the outcome. As I drove east on highway 94, I suspected that many people in the colder regions of the US would experience the same ritual over the first few weeks of March.
My return to river brought the first fish of 2014 to hand, and buoyed my body and mind with fresh air, cold hands and familiar smells.
The lasting affect of this return was clarity of thought, or perhaps rather, questions on matters that until I set foot in the water, had been lying hidden from view. Frozen in too much time watching the internet. Too much time thinking about what they are doing.
1. The river and land are my places of all things mind/body/soul/vibe/high frequency/etc, and I don’t attend their services as often as I should. Without this time getting wet, slimey, dirty, sweaty, freezing my hands and taking part in Nature’s cycles, my creative output is grossly misinformed and misdirected.
2. Time in these places always reveals how messy and “imperfect” the balance of life is. In my absence in the last 5 months or so, I lost my way. I strove to define, contain, and push my illustrative chops. What I have forgotten is that this pursuit is not me. I’m messy. I’m happy, productive and moving forward when I see, create and appreciate the harmony within the mess. Too rigid, not enough distortion.
It tells me to keep it loose. Keep it a bit more on the edge. It’s ok to falter, ok to not be the best, ok to not be good at something; let the work fail, and let the work sing. Return to a mode of creating, an aesthetic long followed but temporarily lost, and the work will progress.
Tight lines and horns high amigos.