I've found that when we need to learn something, it comes up in various different ways in our life. That was certainly true this week.

First I learned from my sketchbooks, and then I learned from my life.

Both taught me one thing: stop pushing for a solution!

I've found that trying to find the answer can often be counterproductive. Your brain is so busy thinking, that the answers can't make themselves heard.

Think of it like a loud family argument where everyone is disagreeing about what to do. One person, sitting in the corner, quietly offers a clever solution. But no-one is listening and so the argument continues, with voices getting louder and louder. Until eventually, someone says they need some air and someone else says they'll put the kettle on, and finally the room falls quiet. Once again, the little voice in the corner offers her solution and this time, she is heard. "That's a great idea!" they exclaim. "Why didn't you speak up earlier?"

In my case, the loud voices are my thoughts. They clatter about, officiously claiming they can solve things in no time. And yet, no resolution is reached. The problem drags on.... and then, just as in the family argument, I stop trying to work things out and the answer emerges.

This happened with my studio journal this week. 

My studio journal is a sketchbook I use for working out ideas or experimenting or asking myself questions about my work. It contains mindmaps, and lists, and journal entries, and colour mixing exercises, and quick studies, and photographs. Some of the pages are painted directly into the book, others are stuck in. It's neither neat nor beautiful, but it's a place to put my ideas and I love it.

The funny thing is that I only use it in fits and starts. When I'm deep in a series of work or when I'm teaching, it gets forgotten. But when I need to start a new series or when I'm figuring out ideas, there it is like an old friend, just waiting to help me out.

Over the last few weeks, I have returned to my journal. Initially, I was my objective was to record a new series of videos for my Art Tribe community. Our focus in February will be "Using a Studio Journal to Develop Your Ideas" and I wanted to start filming the videos for that class.

But as I went back through the book, I became aware of something. Over a year ago, a new idea began to emerge in that book. I journaled about it at the time and I even made some small studies. And then I got distracted.

First I taught my annual courses. Then I went on a month-long trip. By the time I returned to my studio, I had forgotten that small voice in the corner. I had become disconnected from my practice and not sure how to restart. I twisted and turned, trying to solve the problem with my mind. And all the thinking just pushed me further away from that little voice that had first piped up a year ago. 

But when I sat down in a quiet room and looked back at my own notes and studies and photographs, I saw what had been trying to come through. There is now a quiet clarity that has been missing for months.

The life lesson was similar and I truly believe this is how life works. We have the answers within us, but our brains are very limited things. They try to actively problem solve, rushing around saying "how about this?" or "what about that?" and we just don't know what to do for the best. But when we get still and quiet and just allow some peace, clarity comes quite quickly. "Oh of course," we think, "why didn't I think of that earlier?"

If you have something you're wrestling with - either in art or in life - why not try this? Just give up trying to find the answer and see if there is a quiet little voice just waiting to make itself heard.