How do you come home to your art?

I got home last week and I’m still unpacking.

“I’m not usually where I think I am. It’s kind of spooky.” – Laurie Anderson

My trip’s end, punctuated by the sound of tires hitting the runway, is often the beginning of a new beginning.  What happens when I get back? My suitcase is heavy with memories. The seeds of new ideas are already beginning to sprout and wriggling in the darkness of my bag.

Returning from a long trip is both invigorating and overwhelming. We find ourselves caught between two worlds – the one we just discovered and left behind, and the one we call home. The studio, our sanctuary, now seems distant, like an old friend we’ve lost touch with. Blank canvases stare back at us, and the unfinished painting on the easel seems irrelevant.

There is a lot going on in our heads after a trip. Remembering that we deserve a bit of grace in this transition is important. Our symphony is only half written. There’s no need to rush toward the crescendo.

“Between two Worlds” – 24’x24″- Mixed media on panel- Gabriel Mark Lipper

On display through July as part of my solo retrospective at the Grants Pass Museum of Art.
Tickets are still available for my live painting Demo tomorrow, Saturday the 22nd 1:00pm – 4:00pm – CLICK HERE

Still, there is some urgency in your return. Try going through your photos and sketches right away. Pick out your favorites, and organize them into a folder on your phone, print some out and place them where you can see them. Your experiences need to be acknowledged. Creativity thrives on curiosity.

Share your adventures, relive the best moments, but also, recognize that finding your old rhythms can be met with some resistance. Like lingering jet lag, resistance can feel like your creative luggage got stuck in customs. Embrace the discomfort, remember, the vivid, landscapes, unfamiliar sounds, and beautiful people. Remember how you felt when you were there.

Begin with small strokes, fragmented thoughts, experiment with new colors. Allow yourself the freedom to play without the weight of expectation. As you immerse yourself, you’ll begin to hear the familiar rhythms of your art welcoming you back home.

How do you come home?

 What are your techniques for re-entry?

What does your art look like after you travel?