For me, creating art has everything to do with intentions. I have the best of them. But intentions don't seem to create art, as I can attest to most mornings when I wake up remembering that I had every intention of working on my blog the night before; I had every intention of editing photos, or making photos, or journaling, or even prepping my work space; I had every intention of cleaning my house, paying bills, doing laundry--all which did not happen. (And for those thinking that housework or taking care of finances is not creative work, I disagree--taking care of those things preps your soul for doing your true (he)art's works--taking those worries out of the equation allows you to be free from the nagging (if erroneous) belief that you should be making better use of your time.)
So again I woke up this morning with not-a-lot accomplished. And again I think of a word like intentions, but this word is much different. Intentional. I remind myself that laying in bed chastising myself for passing out last night instead of working is unproductive. But since I've woken up early, I still have time to do one or two of the things I missed out on yesterday. Therefore, this is me. Writing a little. Jotting down a short list of things I would like to be intentional about this Art Every Day Month. Letting myself breathe and enjoy the crisp fall morning (which will soon turn into a warm fall day. Bakersfield seems to be having a perpetual Summer/Spring season this year). I have a long way to go this day. But my focus is going to be about art. I will choose to find it where I go and in whatever I do. And I will come back here later and tell you how it was accomplished--and not whine about what I intended.