I’ve been in such a wonderful work-groove the last few weeks, just non-stop awesomeness, really, not kidding. I’ve been having a total blast planning out 2016 (yes, already) and thinking about how to shift my business model in the coming months, bringing out some killer offers and services I know people want and need. So YAY on that.
It’s been such a wonderful work-groove that I hadn’t realized the extent to which my movements have become more and more limited. I barely leave the house. I haven’t worked in the garden for ages, even though it’s in dire need of fall clean-up. Nope, I’ve just been in my beautiful office, dreaming and scheming, learning and writing and planning.
And because I’ve been on such a roll, writing sales pages even in my sleep, waking up with web-copy in my head, I resisted going to art group last night at Studio 64. Even though I was all ready to go, there was still this big part of me that wanted to stay glued to my office, my laptop, my chair. But I went anyway. And good damn thing, too.
Too much groove = rut.
Once at the Studio, we set about learning how to make gelli prints. And let me tell you, time flew by. Before I knew it, 2 ½ hours had passed, there was ink all over my hands, I’d printed and played and created and laughed, and stopped typing out my thoughts in my head, which is something I realize I do, when the groove starts to cut too deep into rut-land.
I actually spent three hours without words, mostly, except for crowing non-stop about how in love I was with this process, with the colors, with the feel of the gel under my hands. Three hours without thinking about how to grow my business, how to serve, how to build.
Three hours in pure love with color and feathers and ink.
Man, I needed that. I desperately needed, though I didn’t realize it because I was so deep in my own groove, to shift my gaze, to look entirely elsewhere, to totally stop playing in one way and jump into playing in a fresh, new way. The problem with loving to work – which oh my goodness, I do love so much – is that like anything else, too much of it and the returns diminish.
For best results: shift your gaze.
The much-needed-although-resisted Art Break took my brain off the track it’s been on, a track it’s been rolling smoothly on for weeks now, weeks, and set it down in unfamiliar territory, where I needed to learn again how to roll, and at the same time, actually take in the scenery scrolling by, instead of just blowing through the landscape, unseeing. So good for me.
And guess what I’m doing now? Yep, I’m back at work, but it feels different. It looks different. Of course, it helps that my work table, where I had my 2016 calendar laid out, is now covered with prints I made, so that it quite literally looks different. And that’s good: I want to incorporate that art-break freshness into what I do today, as a reminder to keep it light, to keep it colorful.
A groove is only good for so long. Get out before it turns to a rut. Take a break. Shift your gaze.