questions on 'work' + 'practice' + making space for rest
NATURAL INK. Colour Community has shifted in form + preparing for new Arts Council Wales funded practice research
Warm greetings, folks.
The rapeseed is seeping its sunshine through the valleys and the dandelions are bringing their tenacious joy to fields and verges. It continues to be all about the yellow this Spring. Such warmth amidst the wet days and chilly nights.
There has been much flux and stretch around these parts of late and I am amidst a fortnight of rest and digestion before moving into a full and exciting time. This INKLINGS shares a piece of handwritten writing practice that came together when reflecting on the difference between work and practice, and the crossovers of these tasks and spaces. Entwined in this conversation at the moment are reflections on the different types of rest that are needed at particular times to tend to a sustainable and regenerative work life, creative life, life life, all while holding the deep awareness and remembering in my bones that this is not how I and we have been socialised to consider our activity and our down time.
Even the awesome things need time to settle and be processed. With the huge professional, and personal, validation of this neurospicey-centred Arts Council Wales funding (the grant is to support artist development as a neurodivergent being, among other things) something in me has released a little. The two mental images that I have been using recently, to sum up what’s going on in my inner landscape are trying to slow down this battery powered-monkey-with-crashing-symbols that is my pedal-to-the-metal brain, alongside the sticky and soupy image of my brain feeling like custard.
Mmm… quite the mash-up.
There is regular chat around here about rest, and still, it is not something I find easy to engage with. Not because I don’t heartily know how needed and essential and valid it is to take rest, but because the slowing down of a nervous system that is fired up is rather hard.
I have been becoming aware of the different types of rest we need and how It isn’t all about lying still in a darkened room, although that is lovely when it fits the bill. There is mental rest, physical rest, and emotional rest, and the need to have a change (as it is as good as a rest, as the old saying goes) and to seek support and to let things go and to ease up and bring kindness and many other strands, no doubt.
Sometimes rest is needed beyond a good night’s sleep, or a day off. It needs to be deeper, and it needs to be integrated more regularly into the daily, weekly cycles of things. This is something I am curious to bring into my “work” ahead. To document the periods of pause and rest in amongst action. To deepen a relationship with the whole cycle of action and digestion as part of work, not as a counter to practice.
Thank you for all of the warm cheerleading and messages of support following the announcement of the funding success. It means a great deal to be sharing wins, process and practice in all its flavours.
This month’s FULL MOON post will be in your inboxes upon my return.
Work//Practice - freewrite.
I want to write about not always working and finding some clarity about what work is, what downtime feels like and what constitutes rest and for-the-fun-of-it-no-end-goal-fun. As I write in cafes I become intensely aware of the distracting things around me. That which draws me away from the focus on the page and pen crawling its way across the line.
I will give voice to these noticings. To notice these noticings and validate the reality of how they pop and simmer and jab my eyes and nerves and attention.
This is what happens when I put down social media and work emails for a time - the outside world and all of the things I would ordinarily have a distraction against, come seeping back in. Not that a scroll on the Gram stops me noticing the shakey leg of the guy sitting next to me as he speaks into his mobile, his ankles twitching in blue and black striped socks. However, the scroll would divert my attention away from the irritation of this noticing.
I notice the strong annoyance that plops into my chest and runs howling through the thinking pathways in my brain about the audacity of certain men to take up so much space, and that it feels like a violation. A dance of these mindlessly slung audio punches. Loud conversations, big energy and no-holds-barred space-taking. I wonder if I would like me some of that?
I ask myself where the line is between justified critique and the perpetuation of an unhelpful narrative about ‘some men’ lies, and a silent shrug comes from within.
There is heightened criticism when tiredness etches itself under my eyes and into my shoulders. A tiredness that reflects a personal and shared tiredness for the way this world functions. This human world, this relational world, this world of power and systems and blindspots and delusion.
I began to write about the difference between work and practice, or rather reflect on the question of where this line is and I have become sidetracked, on the one hand, and on the other, this is the very real nature of practice.
The practice of noticing how things are. Without an endpoint to get to. Work feels driven in the pursuit of a goal. Practice feels more spacious and welcoming of the unknown.
This turning from the immediate goal-orientated to more timely enquiries brings an uncomfortable movement between states. A threshold.
Terra firma//Terra incognita.
Ah ha, yes.
I remember this…
Making space for the unknown.
First things first: recognise that this is what is happening and offer up a welcome.
Lay a place for it at the table.
The anchors of practice.
Time, space, permission to suck, support and importantly rest.
Here they are, all topsy-turvy. By writing, I remember.
Support - (the best place to start when in uncertainty.) Making this date in this cafe with myself today. I knew that if I stayed in the house right now I wouldn’t practice. I wouldn’t write. I would spend all day thinking about writing and stewing works in my mind without putting pen to paper. I am tired. I did not want to write, but I also do. I did not want to feel this tiredness and the flatness in my chest now that I have stopped ‘work’ for a fortnight. I wanted to avoid this by not writing, because I cannot lie on the page. But this ‘practice’ helps me to live. To be present to myself and to the world.
Rest - Later on this afternoon, I will do some napping and junky online pursuing on the sofa to give myself some rest, but that will more helpfully come in the wake of the time I have sat here with pen and ink. Do I find this restful though? In what way could this be restful? In what way is it not?
More support - I brought my notebook and pen with me and noise cancelling headphones, and a couple of books I find supportive to dip into. Supportive author friends I have never met but whose words travel with me.
Time - the time of being in this cafe. The length of time I am hearing sipping my coffee and writing on the page.
Space - the page. This little black round table.
In a recent On Being podcast short Krista Tippett speaks of the “generative questions” that we can live by, in a time of such collective unknown and challenge. If we are aware of the ever-increasing multi-challenges of our current world we can become contracted in the seeking of answers and solutions. To it all. Right now. As our minds wander and we read another piece of news. Krista shares that seeking generative questions and living within them offers a spaciousness.
One question that is present at the moment for me is “What nurtures connection?”
This is where practice comes in: the intentional movement towards that which brings connection. The practice of writing. The practice of writing up these words if I feel to and sharing them, even when I am ‘off work’. These are some current threads of practice that will continue to be tended to. I remind myself that I do not need to say all of the things right now, and I can rest knowing that another time, another space will appear.
The rest of fewer demands on the custard brain.
The crunchy gear change of transition. The reverberation of RoadRunner as she stops.
Writing feels good.
In the body.
A release.
An unravelling.
A movement from a jam-packed, revolving door brain full of threads and thoughts to a less congested gentle cycling.
Unravelled on the page.
The NATURAL INK. Colour Community - Edition 2.0
Some tweaks have been made to this offering which I hope will open up this space for those who were unable to commit to a 12 month deep dive. This will be the main space where I am teaching and skill sharing over the coming months, alongside a handful of other one off-sessions (see below).
The new cluster of parts in this offering are:
3-month focus of live community gatherings held on Tuesdays 11am-1pm UK time on May 21st, June 18th and July 30th.
12-month online ink-making lesson resource access. Access available from 13th May.
12-month Padlet community space access with weekly connecting + creative support with me
Ink-making kit posted out to you. (UK postage included. Please get in touch for overseas postage options.)
INKINGS paid subscriber 12-month sign up for deeper dives.
Cost - £375.
Payment plan options for 3 or 6 months.
Solidarity bursaries are available for marginalised folks in financial need.
10 places are available.
Sign up by Monday 13th May to receive your ink-making kit in the post.
⊚ OTHER OFFERINGS ⊚
MEDICINAL TREE INKS with Plants + Colour.
I will be holding my first online group teaching session with Flora at Plants + Colour on Wednesday 4th July 4pm - 5.30pm (ish) - £30. Flora is hosting an array of interesting and skilled artists and makers through this workshop series. For crafting and colour enthusiasts. The session I am holding will focus on making ink with medicinal plants Willow and Hawthorn.
EARTH PIGMENT PAINT sessions at The Green Scythe Fair on Saturday June 9th.
The Somerset social highlight of the Summer The Green Scythe Fair is back this year. I will be back for my third year and holding Pigment Paint Making Workshops on the Saturday. 10am-12pm//1pm - 3pm// 4pm - 6pm. £25 per person with limited numbers per session. The Sunday day event is always a delight! All bookings are made through the Scythe Fair website. This event is a weekend of land-based skill sharing, crafting, community togetherness and summer entertainment.
In solidarity with the creative unknowns and practices in your worlds,
KJ
*There is no readthrough of this INKLINGS, with apologies, as I am sending from a bustling cafe while on a van-venture.
⋓ g e n t l e a t t e n t i o n ⋓
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writing on Toxic Productivity Recovery.⋓
and her zine-work. Ways To Love Your Inner Artist.⋓ Emma Thompson and Daryl McCormack in Good Luck to you, Leon Grande. A tender, beautiful and frank exploration of sexuality, sex-work, ageing and relationships.