Doesn't this sound like an oxymoron? When I go on vacation, I always pack some art supplies . I know other artists who do this, too. But there's a limit to what we can take. A larger issue is that we may be inspired to do very different kinds of work. I don't like to impose an agenda on this time - I like to see what develops. So I don't always know what to choose to bring along.
Al and I go back to the same place every year. We know where we're staying, where we'll pick up food, what the options are for recreation and entertainment. But, of course, the experience is totally different from year to year. The weather is a huge variable. New people enter our lives. New creatures leave their imprints on our hearts.
Even though I have a good sense of where I'll set up my "studio", I don't know until I get there what is going to spark the creative juices.
So this year I arrived with some watercolors and acrylics, brushes, paper, sketching materials. And I waited a couple of days. Nothing. It was gorgeous weather. The view from the deck of our cabin was glorious. We savored the delicious fresh fish, lovely organic vegetables. We took wonderful walks, picking berries, gathering stones, nourishing ourselves with the scenery, revelling in the relaxed rhythms.
Then the full moon rose over the Bay of Fundy. It was so magnificent! And I knew what my project would be. I got some preliminary work painting done, and have a lot of work still to do at home before it will be completed. But it was so engaging. And it felt right for that time and place. It actually enhanced my appreciation of being there. We tend to think of work as taking away from our play time, our pleasure. But in the best of worlds it deepens our experiences, satisfies us in a way that superficial "fun" would not. It is a practice in patience to to wait for the creativity to emerge. And it is a matter of trust.
