The Restory Retreat Centre

A small river we cross on the way to Newcastle. Photo by Matilda This time round I have been waiting very long for the spark. That tiny little flicker of a thing that sets the ready kindling alight, slowly warming my insides with ideas licking slowly higher and higher, until I can no longer contain myself. And start creating in a burst of red hot energy!  It is not a necessary ingredient in the life of an artist, I am told. One should create, write, sculpt whether you feel inspired or not. It comes with the doing. With the keeping at it. So I'm told and it has been my experience for the most. But there is a marked difference. If inspiration can be graded, I would have to say, the keep-at-it-and-it-comes-along variety has always been rather lukewarm for me personally. It does not seem to heat up much, but burns steadily and quietly, producing well... well, producing sellable products. But it hardly raises my pulse.   While I'm in the creative slow cooker I am ...

My sister Marinetha and I (left) during one of our annual seaside holidays. Strange forces are at work in the creative process. I often find myself buckling under the heavy hand of a dry spell that settles on the back of my neck and keeps my vision aimed downward. Downhill it rapidly pushes me and soon I find myself in a dark valley where I am convinced that no light ever reaches. No spark of inspiration seems possible as I don't really have the capability of NOTICING things to produce the necessary spark.       I know rationally that at such times the trick is to simply carry on creating. Even if it feels hollow or nothing much. To just keep going. But it is almost impossible to propel my inner artist to do this when there is simply nothing that excites.       At other times it is a subtler enemy that sneaks in and knocks me off balance. I get a commission to make a really special gift  for a really special person on a really special occasi...