I find myself racing at a sprinter's pace with a scarcity mentality: you'll never get there, hurry up, hurry up!
Then the painting I'm working on, like a toddler not quite steady on her feet, reaches for my hand and relies on me to match her short stride, to match her curiosity about that little pebble right at her feet without one thought about any finish line.
At first I strain my head forward, look impatiently some distance ahead. I even tug her hand once or twice.
Then, breath by breath, I slow down.
I drop into the exact space where my feet stand just now.
I work for a few minutes. Take a few tiny steps. Pause. Take another. Stop altogether.
|work in progress|
|closeup of where my feet stood while exploring|