My Conversations with Slump

I have not been writing much this week.  In fact, I have been torturing myself with thoughts that I must be blocked, or perhaps the "slump" subject that has been moving around from blog to blog has settled down in mine and set up housekeeping for the duration. 

"Why are you here?" I've been asking Slump. "Aren't you really depression in disguise?"

I mean, depression is a great excuse.  I could whine (or whatever.)  I could open that new bottle of wine and drink it by myself, waving my glass to the beat of the jazz CD I always listen to when I'm in that mood.  I could stare at some of my recent paintings and wonder aloud why no one is interested in buying them when they really are damn good.  I could remember that I've been reading Eckhart Tolle, and when he talks about shedding the egoic nature and returning to the nothingness my head starts to ache, and then my neck. 

I guess that's what happens when you get a little information.

And I've been thinking a lot about how a little information can actually send you off on the wrong track.  Or around the bend.  Off the deep end.  Into the...you get my drift.  Questions like the reason we're here are too deep for this blog.  What I do know, or think I know, is that my internal experience, when I am painting, comes the closest to what I imagine Eckhart Tolle might be talking about when he speaks of the awareness of Being, outside of the ego.  I have no idea whether what I experience even comes close to what the spiritual teachers believe.  Might I be reckless enough to ask, "Should it matter?" 

Artists are very familiar with the experience of being "in the zone." Of finding yourself in a place where there is a connection between canvas, brush, hand, mind, heart, and perhaps something else.  Ego is not present in those moments.  Ego only comes into the room when the moment is past, when the painting is drying, or the words written in last week's post have been passed around from blog to blog.  When the action has been taken and cannot be recalled, and Ego is ready to inject emotion, insecurity, defensiveness, and self-inflicted pain along with his best pals Slump and Depression.

Should it matter that I struggle with ego, when -- in the moment that I complete a painting -- there is great inner peace? 

I'm going to need a lot more information. 

"So why are you still here?"  I ask, watching as Slump hands the bowl of chips over to Depression, who passes because he hasn't been able to eat for days.

I see their mouths moving.  Slump can't seem to get comfortable.  Ego has launched into what could be a tirade as his face is turning red. But I can't hear them. 

I don't know.  Maybe I've made a little progress toward Enlightenment. 

Maybe I'm going deaf.

Like I said, a little information can really be a dangerous thing. 

Comments

[Jo-Ann Sanborn]

A good studio cleaning and a bout reading a wonderful blog like yours helps me get rid unwanted guests. The wine's not a bad idea either. Cheers!

[sue]

Here is Chae's comment -- I found it in my email and cut-and-pasted it here. Has anyone else ever had comments "lost?"

Interesting! Have noticed this past week that other artists (mostly potters) have been experiencing this "slump". Perhaps - it's universal? The collective unconscious? Too, it's usually experienced in the dark winter months . . . why has it carried into Spring for so many of us this year? Enjoyed your column. Hugs Chae

[sue]

Chae, I got the email saying you had posted, but when I looked, also, it wasn't there. Sometimes these computers have minds of their own. Thanks for reposting.

[Jeanette]

Perfect post. Slump, depression and ego. What bedfellows they make, feeding off each other and making us doubt ourselves.

[Chae]

Sue!
Wrote you a long epistle late last night on the "slumps" seemingly a universal mood among artists currently.
Somehow it didn't post!
In short, was saying i was enjoying your thought provoking column as always.
Hugs
Chae

[sue]

humm...there is something to be said for writing your post at 1:30 in the morning because you can't sleep. A certain honesty creeps in that strikes a human chord of recognition.

[Deborah Ross]

Well said. I think the awareness is being in the zone,as you stated.

[Bonnie Luria]

Slump is the anti-muse! First cousin of fraud and self-doubt.
Great and timely post again Sue.
Viviens' words, above, echo the advice and reflections I've gotten from friends and other artists too.

It doesn't negate the fear that I can't get this zone back but there it is.

I took a plein air workshop last week and as the only acrylic painter in a group of oil painters, I just might have been the only kettle drum musician in an orchestra of violin virtuosos.

I'm having to remind myself that sometimes the best thing to do is put the stuff down for a while and clear the decks.

I'll toast you with my glass and you can return the favor.

[Paulette]

Well said and full of truth, for someone in a slump!:)

[vivien]

:>D great post!

I so agree about ego not being there until later

- and ego is a wretched little animal - up and down with every word of praise or doubt :>(

I think after a productive period the slump is just a rest to recoup - enjoy it and that wine :>)