I realise that I was not done trying to articulate why The Artist should start a dairy. So today I have also done something I’ve never done before in 230+ episodes, I’ve made the same episode again. A second run up at the same subject from the same set of notes. There may, in future, be a 3rd iteration of this episode with passages taken from both episodes.
A companion to Episode 2320: Stale Yesterdays.
I realise that I was not done trying to articulate why The Artist should start a dairy. So today I have also done something I’ve never done in over 230+ episodes, I’ve made the same episode again. A second run up at the same subject from the same set of notes.
There may, in future, be a 3rd iteration of this episode with passages taken from both episodes – not on the podcast feed but for ‘a thing’.
A companion to Episode 2320: Stale Yesterdays.
There is a Well of Words Within You
We have spoken much of navigation. The Artist has endured creative droughts and ascended great heights. But eventually, regardless of events, circumstance or discipline, there comes a time when the artist must make sense of where they are and where they have been.
Some may choose to draw a map. A symbolic representation of selected characteristics of a place. Others may document the depths, and the tides, and the forces of the sea.
A sea chart is ultimately a map of movement.
The Gardner too must keep track of movement. Not through space, but in time. When each year does the winter make its quiet exit? When does the first rose unfurl its crimson heart to the world? and when are the first warbles of the willow heard upon the wind?
All artists voyage under the turning of the stars. Journeys will change their course, and lovers bid farewell. As the world changes, the Artist changes. As the artist changes, so does the nature of the work.
The Artist has two feet and with them takes two steps to move forward. With one foot, the physical voyage. This dual motion, like a pendulum, one step after another.
The Artist must make sense of their movements. Where and when have they been?
To do so, they need an instrument capable of capturing this oscillation between outer and inner worlds.
To this end: The Artist must keep a diary.
In the solitude of writing, the Artist finds upon the page a silent companion that listens without judgement. The diary serves as the compressive force, enabling psychic transformation.
The Artist must write freely. Thoughts, raw and unfiltered – the structured conscious mind gracefully dances to the rhythm of the wild, unfettered subconscious Thoughts must cascade down the Artist’s hands like a waterfall, to a rhythm a melody only they can comprehend. Words, and emotions once captive in the mind, set free. Here, in this intimate enclave, the tactile world of sensory experiences melds with the ethereal whispers of intuition and insight.
The Artist must learn to write at the speed of thought. The pages of the diary offers an unvarnished platform for the Artist’s current state of being. A stage upon which the Artist can perform without masks, costume, or pretence.
Write a few pages every day.
Dark thoughts are a poison, expel them.
The burdensome worries of yesterday and the looming anxieties of tomorrow can be liberated. Exhale them onto the page. One day, one word at a time, a weight is lifted from the Artist’s soul.
There is an endless well within you, a well of words.
Thoughts and feelings. They must escape the cloistered confines of the mind. By the artist’s hand words written in a diary are a conduit, a channel, that bridges the internal cosmos and the external realm. A bridge between the timeless and the temporal. One step after another.
Every sunrise, every breath, every new day brings a fresh page. This should not daunt the Artist. It merely reflects the truth: there is one day after another. The diary is not a simple vessel – it is more than yesterday’s stories. It’s a white expanse that beckons the Artist to map the contours of their inner world.
Every entry, every line, every word connects the Artist’s heart and mind to something real. Pinning the ephemeral to the actual. Shapeless clouds into solid sculptures. The diary over time becomes an emotional atlas. A tool to encourage introspection and mindfulness. Compelling the Artist each morning to dwell in the ‘now’. Capturing their rawest essence in its most candid form. To write at the speed of thought is to be alive to the magic of the moment.
As the pages fill, overtime patterns will emerge. time the artist may choose to re-read their diary and see themselves as they saw it as the time. The Artist as they trace their journey can chase these threads of thought and emotion, and understand the pattern that makes up the tapestry. Insight into their own mind’s workings; The Artists feelings, inspirations, and their fears.
Armed with self-knowledge, the Artist can stand upon the firm ground of their little isle.
And yet, the diary, much like the Artist’s journey, is never truly complete. As one entry concludes, another is ready to begin. With each new day, new experiences, new emotions, and thoughts arise, demanding to be acknowledged and understood.
The Diary used as an instrument is part of the journey. Not just a record, but a guide.
An active practice of self-reflection and self-understanding is the only way an Artist can survive the journey.