An actress/playwright I knew in the 90’s described a pop-up tent she’d erected in her
backyard in rural Connecticut. What intrigued me most was the handmade sign she’d hung at
its entrance. She labeled it The Place of Not Knowing.
She explained that she would sit in that dedicated space whenever she was in a
transition – between auditions, before writing a new script, or whenever she was paralyzed by
doubt.
I’ve borrowed her place metaphorically.
Whenever I mumble to myself, “I have no idea what I’m doing,” I think back to my
friend’s structure dedicated to allowing her a transitional space. It comforted me that I was not
the only one who questioned the legitimacy of a current project.
Right now, I’m two panels into a 4-panel wall-hanging. I’ve been working on it for a month. At several intervals during this time, the voice of my Inner Critic has muttered, “What are you doing?”
I justify my existence by explaining my process, as if I’m in a debate with my saboteur.
For my current inspiration, I visited MoMA to view the Jennifer Bartlett show that was recommended as a ‘must-see’. I had made a bee-line to 53rd Street and headed straight to the floor where the artist’s arrangement of 987 small panels was hung on three walls.
When I scanned the room of Bartlett’s oeuvre, I didn’t get it at first. In general, my reaction to things unknown to me is: What does this have to do with me?!
But!
Experience has trained me to trust the process: my friend suggesting that I view the exhibit, taking the action to get to the museum, and allowing the artwork to inform me.
I looked more closely. What I noticed was that the artist’s primary design tool was a grid. She employed it repeatedly to explore and create. Pretty soon, those grids began to talk to me — loudly.
“Use us!” they said.
Fortunately, I listen to inspiration when it speaks. I feel my pulse quicken and my adrenaline flow. These bodily responses happened within five minutes of my closer scrutiny. My eye could imagine larger grids filled with felt circles and an arrangement of those larger grids to create a visually compelling whole.
After spending 40 minutes at that show, I bypassed visiting other galleries and raced home to test out my ideas. I wanted to harness the learning from the Color Theory course I’d taken in June and incorporate Jennifer Bartlett’s stunning structure in the process.
Here are a few thumbnails which have led up to my latest design.
You may be wondering, where does entering the Place of Not Knowing come in?
It’s always loudest when I’m uncertain. For instance, when I’m selecting the dyed wool yardage that I’ll use as the foundation for each quarter panel, finding the correct thread shade to match the cut circles, or mapping a basted grid onto that large wool background I’ve selected.
I hear, “Where will you ever exhibit this piece?” or “What makes you think this is going to work?” or the universal mantra all artists dread, “Who do you think you are?”
How do I silence this monstrous judge? Why is the future so doubtful when the desire is so concrete? Where does the permission to create come from?
When these questions are the loudest, it’s time for me to enter the Place of Not Knowing. I need dedicated time and space to affirm that I do know what I’m doing, that there is evidence of success, and my preferred definition of inspiration: Divine Guidance.
When I reconnect with my spirit, the judgmental voices are hushed.
I believe that action is the magic word. The moment I thread the needle, the Critic evaporates. It’s a temporary reprieve, so I need to keep my arsenal of encouragement loaded for future visits, which are sure to show up at the next moment of indecision.
I have never felt so guided, so grounded, as I do right now. Possible galleries for exhibition are beginning to occur to me. Positive comments on my social media feeds propel me forward. Each stitched circle satisfies my soul. I am fully trusting the creative process.
It’s terrifying, but exhilarating.
Had to chuckle at your quivery: “The Place of Not Knowing. Do You Know It?”.
I have lived the majority of my lifetime in this space. How do I deal with it?
One day at a time…..sometimes one minute at a time. I simple take my next best step in the present moment.
That you for sharing your inspirational journey Jane! As we are all connected, I believe all of our individual breakthroughs and successes help others do the same in their own lives.
@Michelle – Not a surprise that our journeys have both been lived one day at a time!! I hold the same belief. xoJane