Yes, it’s autumn, but I’m in spring

Autumn leaf with lavender leaves on top - land art created in the garden - placed on a piece of wood

We all go through cycles in our lives and work. As women we have menstrual cycles, as humans we have phases of life, seven year cycles and we have annual cycles that we mark on the calendar. We experience the seasons of the planet, and the ebb and flow of the moon’s cycle. And… as artists we also go through cycles. The usual life-dictating cycles or phases – in which you have to go through a stage of grieving after a tragedy, or very busy periods of working, collaborating and responding to what is going on around us, and needed from us by our family, friends, colleagues, institutions and customers or buyers. But there’s deeper cycles that we also go through – ebb and flow in our energy, our creativity, our emotions, and our capacity to respond to circumstances. Sometimes we’re better at setting boundaries, better at being productive, focusing or get unstuck from creative block. Sometimes we are better at letting go of self-limiting beliefs and habitual patterns.

I’ve been in a Winter for a while. After my exhibition ORGANISM I have been slowing down, perhaps stagnating a bit. I’ve been pulled in many different directions, and I’ve allowed myself to be lulled into a creative hibernation. I produced some art, yes, and I’ve done some designs, photography and really cool projects. But I also feel like I’ve sidestepped my own deadlines, set my standards nice and low, and very often excused myself from the studio ‘because I don’t feel up to it’.

But now I feel like I’m in Spring. I feel like I’m reawakening, and it feels like things are flowing! And seemingly effortlessly. Which allows me to look back and have some compassion with myself. I’ve been disappointed with myself, and I’ve had fears about my lack of inspiration, energy and creativity. In hindsight it all now feels so natural. Like I’ve just been a bit muffled by the walls of a cocoon. And now the time is ripe for me to emerge again and spread my wings.

I know how it must look from the outside – you wouldn’t see the difference from your perspective. You haven’t been in my studio on a daily basis, you haven’t seen my mini-cycles and self-indulgent crises. You haven’t seen me flounder and stumble. You haven’t been in my head. So you’ll just have to trust me. It was Winter. And now it’s Spring!