I have always favored art that seems effortless, like it sprung forth fully formed because it just had to be. I much prefer this to works in which you can feel the creator's labor to bring into being, or which are too self-conscious or self-referential. I mean, who really wants to know that the twinkle lights are actually hung by sweatshirted guys in a cherry picker braving the cold? Aren't magical elves supposed to do that?
But since this is a blog I'm going to give myself permission to break my own rule and talk through process, especially since I'm just feeling my way through. So the point is this: for the first time since I've undertaken this project this week has not felt effortless in the least. And because of that I find myself feeling extremely self-conscious, which as far as I can tell only gets in the way further.
I understand on a logical level that the thing to do is ride it out, without attaching an emotional response to the feeling of being stuck and or, conversely when it returns, to the feeling of being in the flow. (It will return, right?) But that damn ego sure does know how to muddy the water. And that's how I find myself thinking too much and pondering the meat grinder.