The Pilgrimage
The Pilgrimage
“Here’s your card, good for $10 off your next purchase, and here’s the next one started” the lovely staff member of Candyland said to me as she finalized the ringing up of my purchases. For those unaware, Candyland is a magical place that sells a variety of candies, chocolates and freshly popped popcorn in the Twin Cities (and a Stillwater outpost). Vaimo asked me as I oohed and awed over the huge bag of treats handed across the counter to me, and my newly full stamped card, “do you think we should franchise and see if we can open a Candyland in Erhard?”
“Of course!" I playfully replied. Too overstimulated by the smells of cheesy and caramel popcorn to run through all the logistics of how that would work. Though, as is also usually the case, my mind simultaneously was unable to help with the thought, I started envisioning the buildings in “downtown” Erhard that could be a great place for travelers to stop and get a sweet treat.
We were in Minneapolis for a dear one’s celebration of life at Brit’s Pub, and having walked the blocks over to the candy store before looping back to our parked car a couple of Saturdays ago, I was so pleased that I had a) remembered my stamp card and b) had $80 worth of candy and popcorn to fuel the three hour drive back home. “If you think this means we still aren’t stopping for doughnuts at the CTP, you’re definitely mistaken” I announced as I lugged the seriously large bag of goodies back to our car. Weaving in and out of lines forming to get into theaters, groups of friends strolling toward Target Center in Timberwolf jerseys, I was awe of the bustle of a city.
Experiencing a moment of feeling like I’d strolled this section of Hennepin before, when through the traffic of cars, pedestrians, and cyclists I happened to just look up and notice the Saloon beckoning across the street. Ah, yes, one of me and BFF’s favorite haunts. One of the bars where we’d routinely meet up with my cousin, while I was in grad school. Opportunities for the queer city folk - drinking, dancing, and making out without a care in the world in that dark, alcohol stained club. A different version of me, a different version of the city, both on a past timeline, a ghost of my former self strolling alongside me. Both of us noting the new bike lane on the sidewalk with me saying aloud to Vaimo, “that’s new” as we stepped out of the path of the oncoming bike rider.
It may sound like my trip to Candyland was the pilgrimage, but actually it’s been the recently completed transformational practice I’ve embraced to prioritize painting everyday. Recognizing I have been juggling a lot, two narrative change mixed-media projects, one with a recent launch, another ongoing since October, co-teaching a cohort of leaders from the region, exhibiting work, grant writing, career planning, and then helping others with their art careers— I’ve been at capacity. This “at capacity” reality has meant for the last three months or so I’ve been struggling to find time in the studio. Even though I had time, I was bowing to the minor resistance keeping me away.
Oh, I have to work on this grant.
I’m too tired to paint.
Once I finish this consult I’ll go down to the studio.
I need to get through these invoices and emails, it should only take an hour and then I’ll spend the rest of the day painting.
Dear reader, KCF did not paint.
And after weeks of being able to get one or two hours of work in on paintings down in the studio, I was starting to get frustrated with myself. I’ve got to do something different. I have the time, I’m just not making the time. In consultation with my wonderful art friend who’s coaching me through a somatic and creative mindset shift, we came up with a plan where I agreed to paint every day for 10 days in a row for 1 hour. The goal felt big enough to stretch me in the longevity of the daily practice, and small enough to be achievable because of the time commitment. 1 hour I’ve learned goes by so fast. No wonder I was getting sucked into other work and not painting. All of a sudden all those hours went by as I ticked off tasks on the computer and then I was too drained to go to the studio. But with this agreement, which to my friend Cate White’s credit was simply to “take aim” at the 1 hour, I began to ritualize the experience.
I would text CW, announce to Vaimo I was “heading down,” put my phone in DND, and make the pilgrimage to my studio. I purposefully called it the pilgrimage to honor the journey to the studio, which began when I hit the first step, past the makeshift dog gate to my downstairs sacred space of the studio. Once fully downstairs, at the threshold I smudged and then I painted. My phone alarm would notify me of the hour’s passage and then I would either close out the practice by thanking myself for showing up or continue on.
Often I didn’t really have the flexibility to stay and keep working which is what I wanted to do. Instead I ran off to zooms was my reality, grading papers, sending emails… Or life stuff too, getting the grocery list together, cooking a meal, finally paying that dentist office bill. The kinds of tasks that take up more time you think it will. The kinds of busy work that can suck your soul dry. But after my one hour of painting I did these other tasks with so much more joy because of the pilgrimage. I had made to my studio.
A couple of days on my pilgrimage, I was able to keep working beyond my scheduled one hour and it felt so good. I put painting first and it improved my mental health, I made progress on two paintings, I committed to me and my practice and honored the sacred space of creativity - both my studio and the mindset I have to get in to be free to paint. Instead of being filled with guilt or angst about not painting, I just made it happen. I knew that I would have days that were fuller but I also knew in picking 10 days in a row that I would need to make some sacrifices in order to paint. I would need to keep myself from pushing myself too hard in other areas of my life so that I could show up for the pilgrimage. I knew that I needed to ration my time and save enough to give to my one hour of painting. And, I knew I needed to make time to paint, to prioritize and center it as the work, not the afterthought of squeezing it in after I get through everything else.
To say the pilgrimage changed me would be an understatement. I was filled with deep satisfaction, pleasure and joy after fighting through the resistance to begin the steps. It’s like the runner’s high on mile four of a long run. Or, the benefits of a strength training workout you didn’t want to do but muscled your way through anyway. I felt so proud of myself and so enveloped by the safety of my Studio Utopia. When there were days that the painting may have felt too emotionally intense I simply switched to a different painting that wasn’t so highly charged. As someone who has been trying to find a way forward in my workflow that is not based on a punitive method of pushing myself to the breaking point via manufactured real, or even fictitious deadlines, the pilgrimage became a loving creative journey that will be my new go-to for the purposes of putting my painting practice first.
No doubt, part of the reason the pilgrimage worked for me is because of my Catholic roots. While the term “pilgrimage” itself is often used in a religious context, the internet says that a pilgrimage by definition is “a journey to a sacred place or shrine.” The making of a ritual to my studio, a place made sacred through the act of creation and creativity, allowed me to connect with the current leg of my artistic journey in new ways. What a gift. It has me thinking about what would be the parallel sanctified relics and the reliquaries in my studio shrine? And, in the tradition of other pilgrimages what sort of badge, certificate, or token will I grant myself for completing the journey? Of course, why stop there with just the one, why not put some of those skills I’ve been yearning to learn like bookmaking to the test and make an entire credencial filled with my handmade wax seals to mark the completion of not only this journey but the next, and the next, and the next? Maybe I’m overcomplicating, maybe I just need a punchcard system, like Candyland. I have always loved a stamp.
Of course I’m getting ahead of myself, as is my way. I guess when I settle on something that feels appropriate I will let you know about it. Until then I look forward to my next pilgrimage, I’ve already been scouring my calendar for another 10-day or more stretch of time where I make the pilgrimage to my studio to work on paintings. With upcoming travel I’m not sure when the next can begin. Despite this, I know the work, and I are better for the commitment, and who knows, maybe I’ll run into another pilgrim on the way.
Oh what sweets await on the path of devotion.
Creative Ritual
The pilgrimage already reported a lot of what I’ve been up to, however if you want to read about the credencia for the pilgrimage to Compostela I highly recommend.
Here are some upcoming ways to connect with me or my work!
Thursday May 2 - Join me for an Artist Talk at the Bluenose Gopher Public House in Granite Falls, MN 6:00-7:00pm
Saturday May 4 - Join me for an Artist Talk at the Billboard on MN 210 by Foxhome from 10:00-11:30am
Saturday May 4 - I’ll also make an appearance at MState for the closing reception of the 50th Invitation Art Show at the Charles Beck Gallery on the Fergus Falls M State Campus
Ongoing - Join my community the Art of KCF Cafecitos over on my Ko-Fi site - monthly member perks include sneak peeks of works happening in my sketchbook, and studio before anyone else and a near-weekly paper planner power hour via zoom with me on Sundays.
Questions to ponder
What could a 10 day devotional practice look like for you?
Have you ever pilgrimaged? What did you learn about yourself on the journey?
How are you honoring the sacred in your life?
Thanks for journeying with me. I hope, as always, that you take what you need and leave the rest for someone else, or for another time.
-KCF