I have been thinking about that word a lot lately -- artwork. Not artwork as a *thing*, but art as work. I don't want to get into a long discourse about writing as a job -- this is something I know and I do and that is good. I love my job. I love romance, writing, the process, but that's not what I'm thinking about.
I'm not thinking about work as money-making. I'm thinking about internal work, spiritual work, heart work. Love work.
It's funny, when you say it out loud, the words are trite and self-help and weird, somehow a blurb for something that I can't stop working through, working on, working with.
I am starting a few experiments to explore the world of art as heart work -- things that I'm reluctant to say out loud yet, in case the speaking of them, the giving these ideas words pins them down into a world they're too new to exist in yet. These are quiet things, private magics that need blessings and breath and love.
Mothering.
Which is a word that deserves a space all its own, a practice that I am trying to redefine and recapture and reinvent and own again.
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This is wonderful.
ReplyDelete~B
The work is good, and the way you're talking and thinking about it is really good, too.
ReplyDeleteOh, and I'm quickly learning that word is much, much more than nine letters. ;-)
*hugs*