Waking Up From My Cheetah Nap
Recently, I restarted running. On a recent run, the pre-recorded coach on my app said something along the lines of this:
All runners have setbacks. In fact, the only people who don’t have bad runs on occasion are people who don’t ever run. So, rather than being discouraged or doubting your status as a ‘real’ runner because of a setback, take it instead as PROOF that you are actually a real-deal runner, and then move on to your next run.
This hit home for me, not only as a runner, but also as an artist. My art journey has followed a “two steps forward, one step back” pattern and those backward slides always have the potential to send me into a tailspin of doubt and creative paralysis. We call it “Imposter Syndrome” in the art world, and as far as I can tell, all artists struggle with it at some point.
I’ve been at this long enough now to see the pattern of when this shows up for me as an artist. It’s always after a ‘success’ - I get accepted into a new show, sell a bunch of work, or finally finish an important piece. At the time, I’m energized and can feel the creativity pumping, I feel great, knowing in my bones that I’m an Artist. I’m focussed, efficient, and in the zone. And then, after the show or the sale or the painting are wrapped up, my energy fizzles and I find myself surrounded by a dearth of ideas and blank canvases. It used to be scary because I thought it meant that I wasn’t on the right path, that I had been wrong about being an artist. Now I see it for what it is, the cheetah nap after the cheetah sprint. It’s still uncomfortable, but it doesn’t send me into a panic anymore. I trust the process - and there is even some comfort when the cheetah nap shows up - because I know it means that I’m actually on the right track, and that these moments of vulnerability and reflection are the fuel for my next sprint. I know that if I take the time to regroup, I’ll start again. Because that’s what artists, and runners, and cheetahs do.
I used to tell people the “secret” to making art was to just jump in and start- and while I stand by this advice, now I know that the secret to BEING AN ARTIST is to start AGAIN (and again, and again, and again…)
The studio is calling, gotta run! (see what I did there?)