I first came across the phrase “Work in Silence” while reading Crowley, and it has stayed with me as one of those little knives of wisdom: simple, sharp, and useful.
For years, it has been a guide. Whether it was a personal goal, a creative project, or something more inward and strange, I found value in keeping the work hidden until it was ready to be shared. There is a particular kind of power in not speaking too soon. The will stays intact. The spell keeps its charge.
I experienced this directly while practicing Magick, and then again and again throughout adulthood. A decade or so after I first began living by this philosophy, I came across research suggesting that when we talk about a goal or dream before completing it, our reward centers can fire in a way similar to actually finishing the thing. We get a little taste of completion without having done the work. The motivation leaks out.
That made sense to me. It still does.
And yet, there are moments when throwing a desire into the ether feels like exactly the right thing to do. Not as a substitute for the work, but as an offering to it. A small flare sent up from the subconscious so the committee can begin arranging chairs in the background.
This morning, during contemplative practice, the committee decided today was one of those days.
Over the past thirteen months, I have created hundreds of pieces of art, with 112 of them feeling worthy of keeping record of. That number does not include the painted antique boxes, tintypes, stools, and other found objects I have also begun painting. I am loving every second of it. I wake up excited to continue one project and, naturally, start three more.
Yesterday I finished two paintings while prepping a third, along with a large wooden ball I have apparently decided must also be painted. Today I will keep working on those, with a stop at the art store to buy the biggest canvas they have, because my mind has informed me that I MUST paint huge flowers or there will be consequences. ;-)
So I say all of this because I want to work toward having an art show. A real one. A space where I can hang the paintings, gather the found objects, and let all of this strange, colorful, devotional energy live together in one room for people to see.
I have no clue where I would host such a thing. I have no clue if anyone would show up. I only know I wanna.
Maybe it is a place where I have already participated in a group show. Maybe it is a new gallery that hosts artists. Maybe I clean out my garage and have a backyard art party.
I really don’t know.
What I do know is this: I’ve had thirteen months of painting. I’m giving myself thirteen more for a solo art show.
If you have ideas, leads, spaces, whispers, or nudges from the ether, send them my way.