BREAKING THE PATTERN

I'm an artist. That's how I always answer people when they ask me what I "do". "I'm an artist." The usual response is raised eyebrows and a polite " Oh. How unique. Are you good?" That used to stymy me, that last sentence. "Are you good?" How in the world do you answer a question like that?

"Oh, but of course I am daaaaaarling." or maybe " Dude." and then there's "Oh, gee, shucks, I don't know." I kind of liked experimenting with the answers just to watch the reactions. I had a million of them and all of them in different accents too. Sometimes I answered in French or with a German accent. Other times I'd do an Evangelistic Healer kind of thing. It usually depended on the whim of the day, how the wind was blowing and whether or not I cared about how they responded.

Now I just smile and act mysterious. There is no answer to a question like that. I just AM. It's part of my hardwiring, like having blond hair or eyes that change colors. And I'm not sure that I care whether "they" even like the work anymore. What I care about is whether I was able to communicate clearly with color, composition, technique, light, subject matter. In fact I kind of like it when I rattle someone's cage a bit. Not all Art is meant to be pretty. I want an emotional response.

But lately I've found myself falling into a pattern of doing the same thing. My paintings aren't necessarily all the same, but they way I approach them is. And so is my day. I get up about the same time, stumble into the bathroom for the inevitable and then stop to look at myself in the mirror so I can lament the passing of the years. " AAACK! I'm in the Twilight Zone! " or some other equally silly but predictable response.

I do certain things before I go out for barn time, walk to the barn down the same path, start my day in the same way and then I go back to the house to work. Since I've chosen the word "ASK" as my thing to focus on in 2011, I stopped to ask myself a question this morning. " Why am I repeating myself? I'm an Artist. I should be more interesting than this. Am I caught in a pattern?" The questions just popped into my head. They came at me so hard and so fast, I sat down on a chair in the hallway, just to break the pattern long enough to think.

"Why am I repeating myself?"  It's a good question, don't you think?

I sat there doing my "Thinker" imitation on the little wooden chair in the hallway, wondering about the way my mind works. I sat there long enough that Gypsy, my ancient dog, came to me and set her knobby old head on my knee and asked "You OK?" I patted her head and ever so gently rubbed her arthritic shoulders while I ruminated and cogitated. She waited, always patient with me but ready to go outside when I was. And then I found my answer. "BREAK THE PATTERN."

That's what we've been taught to do when our horses start to set a pattern going in a direction we don't want to go, either from fear or because they're testing to see what the limits are, to see what we will do. They like to be reassured that we're still focused and the leader because if we're not, then they sure will be. It's a survival thing for them...that need. So, being the leader, we set the patterns. They're comforted by that and so are we.

But when do you break the pattern in a way that fosters creative thought? How do you keep them engaged and interested in what you have to "say"? There are more ways and more reasons than one for learning how to "BREAK THE PATTERN". It was up to me to break my own patterns, to be more outside my own comfort zone to take the learning to a higher level. It's time to get past the usual January Doldrums that come with grey, cold, windy, "I just want to hibernate!" weather.

I decided to BREAK THE PATTERN by approaching it like playing with Legos. I was going to start with lots of little bright colored pieces of information and then wing it! My walk to the barn was the first piece in the equation. I walked out the back door, up the hill and climbed the fence into the paddock instead of walking out the front and going my usual route. HA! The looks on their faces were worth it. They were standing at the other gate waiting for me and here I come, around the corner and over the fence (not easy to do when I'm wearing my heavy duty Winter clothing and big boots!). "HEY! People don't do that?"

You've heard that one from me, haven't you? " Horses don't climb haystacks." While I was sitting on top of the fence enjoying the view, I made another spontaneous decision. (This was fun! I felt better already.) Every time they checked in with me this morning, a usual part of their ritual, I was going to literally drop whatever I was doing and follow them, synchronize with them, and do what they were doing. I was going to mirror them, become as horse as I could, and see where it led me.

After they got over their surprise at seeing me on top of a fence, we did our nuzzling up together...a part of the ritual I never want to change! And then I hopped down and set up the ropes, letting them OUTSIDE. When Luck;y came up to me to touch me with his nose, I followed him.

He stopped and looked at me, flicking his ears at me and asking a question? " Huh? What are we doing?" I answered with a nice long sigh and waited, matching the way he was standing. We were two twins in the mirror with some minor differences in size and shape. And then, after he'd gone back to grazing, I ran my hand down his back towards his tail (Jerry Williams taught me that. It's a nice way to end a session.) and walked back towards the barn.

I was in the barn stall, mucking it out, when Lucky came to check in with me. He leaned into the stall and touched me with his nose...and I dropped my rake and followed! Talk about surprise! We walked out of the barn doors together, stopped to look at the pasture to the north of us (there were three does coming down out of the woods), and then we turned to the east and walked out into the pasture. I had my hands in my pockets and walked with him, matching his pace (Thankfully it was slow and easy! The snow had drifted out there and was 18 inches deep in some places.). He brought his energy up so I did too, and then he stopped. He took a bite of grass, then walked out a bit more...and so did I, well except for the "biting the grass" part.

After a bit, I turned and ran my hand down his back and walked back to the barn. And he followed! He came right up next to me and kept my pace, a beautiful, perfect floating head right next to me. I was feeling kind of giddy and silly at this point, so I started running in big zig zags, sort of a loose version of Falling Leaf. And there he was, right next to me...and so was Apache! Oh, this was getting better and better. But I didn't want this to be work. This was supposed to be PLAY. It was time to stop.

We stood there together for a bit, relaxing, and then they went back to grazing. I ran my hand down both of their backs and quietly walked away. I wasn't keeping track of time, but I'm guessing we never played more than a few minutes here and a few more there, like they do when they're out in the pasture together. They graze for a while, then run and play for a while, then go back to grazing...turning it on and off like a water spigot.

I was filling water buckets when Apache came and tagged me. (I did stop to turn off the water here) We turned and trotted off out into the pasture. Apache is my Left Brain Extrovert. He always trots. He loves to move his feet. I get plenty of exercise when I'm with him. I wasn't very graceful, loping along next to him in my big boots, but I did keep up. That was when I realized he'd slowed down enough to allow me to keep up. That's HUGE coming from Apache. His favorite game is to try to outmatch me, to outwit me. He wanted me to play with him that much!

By the end of the morning Lucky had come to get me four times and Apache had come for me three times. And it was all at their suggestion, on their territory and at their pace. Oh the soft eyes they gave me. Before I came back inside, they were both in my pocket, nickering and sighing. I think I may have played a total of maybe fifteen minutes give or take with each of them over a two and a half hour time. Chores definitely took longer with play time interrupting them. And it was worth it too!

I left them as mellowed out as I was when I came inside. We were all practicing the number one Principal of Horse-Man-Ship... "Horsemanship is natural."

We built an awesome "lego sculpture" together this morning, with all kinds of wicky, wacky parts in different colors, sticking out here and there. It just doesn't get any better than that, at least until it does!

I am, ... WAIT! Break the pattern. ... Nancy, standing on my head with my hands behind my back   *REALLY BIG GRIN HERE*