Making makes the space

I have a vision of what I want to make. I just haven't figured out how to do it. Today was another five-hour obsession. No water, breaks, food, or sitting. No talking. Just Pink Floyd. Leaves me feeling a little like drunk. 

I felt I was going as fast as possible to finish. I don't know enough about how the clay dries at this width to stop before I completed it. I found some plastic and wrapped it so I can tweak on the finishing for a few hours tomorrow. I keep questioning what the hell I'm doing. But I know its working. The plan was to take time off work and create something. Get hooked again. If I don't get hooked, I'll remember this time. It's all a stepping stone to whatever is next. 

I know I am too stressed/stretched right now. I know it's up to me to identify the parts that need adjustment, retooling, or simply need to go. I also know I want more than what I've figured out yet. This state is part of the process.

This studio time should be in the morning.

I'm not sure how I'm going to fold this into my regular life. I work so much. It's relentless. This studio time has given me space and a certain kind of movement, allowing me to clear my system of task lists and problem-solving. A break from computer screens and tired eyes, meeting expectations and going beyond, of thinking through the implications and juggling too many priorities. It took me a week of working in here to stop stressing out about the tasks at my job.

I have room in my mind. For the first time in a long time, there is room. I need to make to find this room. Wandering, pleasing, explaining, and guiding does not make the space. Making makes the space.