The possibilities of a fresh slate
Last April, I followed a hunch in my heart. I decided to go on a fresh slate. I removed my artwork from the studio’s memo board. Those artworks were things I held on to. Art that I used to define me as an artist. One piece after another, I removed them. First, slowly, timidly then swiftly, boldly. Until there’s nothing left.
Blank.
I don’t know what’s next. There’s no feeling of excitement or sadness. Just—staring, wondering, questioning. Do I, does my art, does HopeMail, does my writing—need a fresh slate? I have no idea. Fresh slate is an experiment. I have questions, but I don’t know what questions to ask. So, I’m just sitting on the floor, on a Saturday night, staring at the unfamiliar empty space.
What happened from here?” A friend asked.
“Still blank. Starting to like it”, I answered. I like the possibilities of that blank canvas. So, I left it as that. Not forcing it to become anything. But, just be.
In the course of a few weeks, the board became an easel for my Boa Tarde, Portugal collection creation.
And subsequently, the place where I recalibrate—my work, my life, and what’s next. I bought some creamy smooth, gigantic pieces of paper, and up they went on the board. Pacing back and forth, I scribbled my thoughts. Brainstormed ideas.
What’s great about a big piece of paper is I can build upon ideas. I can connect my thoughts. On a single sheet of paper, I can easily revisit what I thought was a great idea five days ago and put it into KIV or bin it.
Clarity of thoughts is best achieved with the simplest tools—your brain, your heart, pen and paper.
With that big empty canvas, a safe space—I asked questions and kept closing the gap between my true self and my false self. The recalibration was a spark, daring me to get out of the box nobody puts me into.
It all started with being afraid of the nothingness of a blank canvas, and moving past that fear—to the possibilities of a fresh slate.
Onwards.
💖 Melinda/ what I’m doing now
So true!
"Clarity of thoughts is best achieved with the simplest tools—your brain, your heart, pen and paper."