My Blog Posts


Honestly, What Is the Point?

creative writing crystal marie Mar 18, 2022

"All Is One"
10" Diameter
Momigami Mixed Media

"I'm not very good at making specific plans. Just meet me under the sky somewhere and be alive with me."
~Victoria Erickson 


Hello Dear Friends,

For the better part of the week, I've been plugging away at the unpacking/reorganizing of the home studio. It has been a hard, physically laborious, process. I have to admit, at times my efforts have felt futile. 

Seeing my things strewn about, trying to make room in a space less than half the size of the old one, with the limits of being in my home and not an industrial warehouse-the mess of sorting, organizing, tossing out, and making decisions about what to keep and where to put it all, has felt overwhelming.

But suddenly I see it all starting to come together, revealing a more cohesive and functional space in place of that mess. Soon I can work in it. Soon it will be done. My excitement was rising.

In the midst of that excitement new messages started to fill my head, not of the art I would soon be working on, but of the possibility that my landlord would not renew my lease after all this effort. 

Last year I responded yes, I did plan to stay, when he sent the annual email that it was time to renew the lease, but there were several issues that needed his attention. Simple fixes mostly, but one thing was presenting itself as quite concerning. I explained the circumstances and wrote that it was a "safety hazard" because, well, that's what it was!

My landlord inexplicably responded that my choice of words sounded "litigious", as if I were somehow setting him up to be sued. Then he changed the lease addendum to eliminate the right to renew clause, meaning that now I don't know from year to year if I'll be asked to move or allowed to stay.

He did come up with a satisfactory resolution for the issue at hand and life went on. No further negative interactions prior or after have occurred. The knowledge that it's unlikely I'll be asked to move, has been a solace, but there is that pesky voice that keeps popping up in my head: "What if...??" 

Are my efforts even worth it? Was all of this work futile? Should I be focusing on something else? Honestly, what is the point?

When minor circumstances are out of our control, that pesky voice can be somewhat annoying. In the face of major world events, it can be quite crippling. 

Is this thing that I do irrelevant at this time? Am I focusing on something trivial?

What if... What if... What if... 

Sitting in the quiet of the morning light, sipping my coffee, contemplating these uncertainties, a new voice rose to the surface.

This one pointed out that trying to forecast events was a misguided attempt to stay safe. That it came from the same place as the perfectionist that shows up in the studio, persuading me to doubt my own abilities, trying to predict the outcome of the thing before I even begin. In the studio it is the voice of the art critic. That voice can sound pretty reasonable, but its foundation is always fear and control. 

Listening to my intuition, my own purest, most authentic voice, I know that a sense of control is nothing more than an illusion.

I can't predict the future, all I can do is live my life and love what I do, trusting that  whatever I have set before me is enough for this moment in time.

And that is everything.

With so much love and gratitude,

Crystal Marie

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