Last fall I noticed a small tree had seeded itself among the shrubs outside my studio windows. Thinking it was a wild apple tree, I left it alone. By this summer, it had revealed its true self — invasive Buckthorn — and had invited a grove of Sumac to join it. I included “overgrown shrubs outside my studio windows” on a list of things I was tolerating (and that just might be blocking my creative process) during a recent class with Alyson Stanfield, but hadn’t made any progress with asking my husband or the local landscapers to deal with the situation.
I should have known today would be the day when I tossed Ted Orland’s The View from the Studio Door in my bag as I headed off to an appointment. With real fall weather threatening after an extra month of summer, and rain storms moving in for the rest of the week . . . I came home from my trip into town and realized the time had come to take back my view!
I could have called my neighbor for help — at age 14 he’s already “tractor certified.” Either that or exceptionally good at marketing his lawn mowing/landscaping services for someone who has yet to earn his driver’s license. My husband also owns a tractor — he’s not officially “certified,” but certainly very competent — however, he wasn’t at home. We have a chainsaw too, but after telling my 85-year old father he was not allowed to use his chainsaw while he was home alone, I thought better of trying ours for the first time. Hell knows no wrath like a woman with a swiss army knife. OK, it was a small landscapers’ pruning saw, but the view of the fall foliage from my southwest studio is now much improved — or at least it will be once I get back out there to wash the windows!
What are some of the seemingly unrelated things that block your creative process? And what are the first steps toward resolving them? Tell us below …