Counter-pose*
OK, six hours in the car by myself today gave me entirely too much time to ponder questions like this, which isn't a bad thing, but for some reason I feel the need to follow that up with something a bit more concrete. My latest uploads from Jordan should do the trick – they include more photos from Petra as well as a new group of photos from an abandoned glass factory, which had so much gorgeous texture I could hardly see straight.
Photos like these inspire my collage work, and they are certainly influencing my next round of work. With this next series, I am wanting to capture the many layers that exist in any given story, perspective or concept, and it is fun experimenting with ideas for that. I suppose this has been true for all of my work – this desire to express all the layers that exist in the world and in life – but this time around I am trying to convey a broader kind of expression. I want there to be even more mystery, and oddly enough I feel like the best way to do that is with a simpler style.
I love imperfection, decay, messy, scribbled, torn, cracked. I love all the nooks, crannies and corners that look like hiding places for things like treasure maps, old letters and sepia photographs with curled edges.
I am working with washed out blues, turquoise and pale, Coke-bottle greens. I am working with gold, graphite, and micro point pens.
So tomorrow, it's back to work in the studio.
"The creative process is a process of surrender, not control." ~Julia Cameron
* In yoga, certain poses that focus on a specific area of the body require a counter-pose to balance things out. For example, the bridge pose – or back bend – opens the chest, and is usually followed by a pose that brings the knees towards the chest; the knees to chest is the counter-pose to the back bend, creating balance in the routine and in the body. I felt the need to write a post about something a bit more earth-bound following my earlier post about the meaning of life – a counter-pose, if you will, to balance things out.
Why Was I Born?
I listened to a Zencast podcast today on the long drive home down the I-5 from the Bay Area to Santa Monica, and the question Why was I born? was posed during the lecture. The topic of the discussion was thinking, and how to honor and use it during meditation instead of treating it as an action that needs to be squashed or avoided. In one of the examples the speaker used to illustrate how thinking can be beneficial in the practice of meditation he mentioned this question, and it immediately stuck with me.
This is a question we all grapple with in different ways and at different times in our lives – the idea of searching for purpose, creating meaning, following our hearts, and making our mark all have their roots in this very simple yet likely impossible to answer question. For every person that has walked the earth there is a different answer to this question, and who knows how many different ways to approach this question. Not to mention the fact that many of our actions have the potential to impact the world in ways we will never be aware of. Maybe I was born to create artwork and write stories that inspire others to create a meaningful life, or maybe I was born to be at a particular place and time in my car, which prevented someone else from getting through a yellow light, and because that person was held up on his or her journey by two minutes, he or she avoided a fatal accident. And maybe that person had a child that cured cancer.
I know it's a stretch, but stay with me.
My point is that I might sincerely believe I know the Truth of why I was born – my purpose (what I'm meant to do), where I belong (who I'm meant to share my life with), and what my soul's work is (what lessons I am meant to learn). And I might be right about those things or I might not, because in the midst of all the details of my life it might very well be possible that I could have done any number of things and ended up with a different family, working through different issues, and that all might have felt just as right and true as where I am right now. To be honest, there is a part of me that can't imagine my life any other way than what it is right now – warts and all – but I have to consider that as a possibility.
My life simply is what it is, and I happened to have certain experiences that shaped me a certain way, and they led me here – home on a Wednesday night writing a blog entry about the question of why I was born, waiting for Indian food to be delivered, still basking in the glow of the memories I just created up north.
Am I living my ultimate purpose? Why was I born?
These questions are all part of the mystery, but the code I feel like I am beginning to crack lies in looking at whatever is in front of me and accepting it for where it is. I might still try to steer things here or there, but deep down I will not find peace in my heart until I accept what is. I had this revelation right smack in the middle of a conversation with a friend last week, when I started to say "This relationship still needs a lot of work…" (not ours but another one) and I stopped mid-sentence and said, "No, actually, this relationship is where it is, and today things feel more open and peaceful than they did a week ago, and right now, that is enough." I realized I had to stop seeing the relationship as something that would only be "good" if it were something other than what it is right now. In that instance, I immediately breathed easier.
I can look at my life the same way – as always seeing it as something that needs to look this way or that way, but never just what it looks like right now. Or I can sit still in the midst of this world in which I'm living, which is overflowing with joy, creativity, beauty, questions, and mysteries, and when I stop to wonder why was I born simply accept that I can't answer that question definitively, and that is OK. I know I have discussed the topic of acceptance many times before, but I think the truth of it has many, many layers, and each time I peel one away I experience a deeper settling within my own heart.
{And then the Indian food arrives, and it's time for dinner.}
Spur of the Moment
Every once in a while, when the mood strikes you to jump in the car and head north, you need to just run with that urge.
And when you get there, if a lunch date with some of the most extraordinary women you know carries over to a five-hour coffee date and then moves on to a dinner date, it might be wise to just go with it every step of the way.
The following day – after you sleep in later than you have in years – when your plans to paint in your friend's studio get lost in the midst of a magical hike in the woods and a late, leisurely lunch at joint called Cafe Gratitude, it would serve you well to trust that the hike was more important than the painting.
And after lunch, when you must choose between a small or a large milkshake called "I Am Cool", opt for the large. And that soup you had a love affair with as you devoured every spoonful? Order a large serving to go to take back home with you.
There are plenty of instances when plans must be made, schedules set, and calendars coordinated, but sometimes – even when you only give your friends 48 hours notice – things simply work out in their own perfect, unexpected way.
Unknowing
[My favorite photo taken on our last day in Jordan - me and Karyn at sunset. Photo taken by the magnificent Gillian.]
One of the reasons I am able to go wild creatively in my studio is because I maintain a number of very consistent routines throughout my days and weeks. I always get the same kind of milk (2%) for my morning cafe au laits, I fold my laundry a certain way, I have a routine for washing my face at night. These little rituals give me time to simply go through a number of comforting motions that I know I can rely on. The downside is that I can get so attached to them I have to sometimes be convinced that other options might be just as viable, workable and enjoyable. When dining at our favorite neighborhood Italian restaurant, every once in a while my husband implores me to order something other than what I order 99% of the time, and when I follow his urging, our regular waiter is actually kind of disappointed because I'm breaking the routine. (But I love that he knows what I usually want – see there? Another little spot of familiar comfort in my routine.)
The same is true with my yoga classes, although my tendency to stick with the same level of classes has had more to do with my confidence level, and feeling unsure of my abilities beyond what I know I can do well. If someone had come to me this morning and suggested I take a Level 2/3 Vinyasa Flow class, I would have laughed my head off and then very seriously said, "No way." Level 2/3? Vinyasa Flow? I'd pass out! I'd make a fool of myself! Forget it!
But today I was running late, and walked into the wrong room, and for some reason I knew immediately I was in the wrong class. But instead of going into panic mode as the door to the classroom clicked shut, I looked at our teacher – who I fell madly in love with the instant she smiled and welcomed us – and decided to simply take whatever the class had to offer and do my best. Because I had no earthly idea what the class was, and decided it was better to not know.
The long and short of it is that I did much better than I thought I would. While there were a few instances in which I was totally unfamiliar with the instructions – having to look around to see how everyone around me was twisting, contorting and supporting themselves in some pretty serious poses – I actually had fun being so open to whatever we were told to do. And now I'm hooked, and will most definitely be back in this class with this teacher. Not only that, but I'm now feeling courageous enough to try other higher level classes. What is so great about this is that I feel inspired to try new classes now not because I'm trying to push myself, but because, hey, if I can get by in the class I inadvertently took today, then maybe I'm more capable of bigger challenges than I thought I was.
And the other treat? I met a lovely woman who told me she's been reading my blog for years, and that was just icing on the cake.
Sometimes, going somewhere we didn't intend to go turns out to be the exact place we belong. Sometimes, the greatest joy comes about when we're feeling lost and uncertain, but willing to stay on the path anyway.
Five Things
1. Have you seen All of a Sudden – Leonie Wise's new book of poetry? My copy is on the way!
2. Wonderings & Wanderings is ever so dreamy
3. Beautiful objects of adornment can be found at Prismera.
4. 101 Most Awesome Adventure & Travel Twitterers
5. For all you Los Angelenos, tomorrow night East LA Classic Theater is having a yummy fundraiser. Simply head to El Torito for dinner and 25% of total food sales will go to East LA Classic Theater – but you need to show them the fundraising flyer, so download it here!
Sparklette #33
I don't think I've ever been quite so methodical in my approach to a new series of work. I usually dive right in and figure out what I'm doing as I go along. But this time, knowing I'm gearing up to work on some ginormous panels (have I mentioned I want to work on a ladder?), I am taking the next few weeks to experiment and play with ideas. My hope is that by the time I am in the studio this summer, this time of trial and error will have rewarded me with some clear ideas about what I want to do on a much larger scale.
Having said that, this is the creative process I'm talking about, and plans don't usually enter that equation very often. If anything, plans have a way of getting in the way, so I figure I'm already treading on thin ice, which makes it that much more thrilling.
It doesn't take much to make me feel like a daredevil.
Coming on Like Blazes
The next two days on my calendar are completely empty, and that means I have two blissfully expansive chunks of time during which I can get lost in my latest creative work. Now that I've reached the down slope in my first official week of working on my next series, I realize how long it has been since I've dug deep into a creative project this ambitious. My last major endeavor (major as in time and scope) got wrapped up last September, and ever since then it has been a series of smaller projects. It was a welcome respite to only have to work with the burners on low for a while, but now it's time to create some brighter sparks and take some bigger risks.
The fact that I'm investing in the rental of a large studio for two months this summer is turning out to be a great motivator. While it wouldn't be the worst crime in the world to wait until I was in that space before I started experimenting with ideas, I would much prefer to take the greatest advantage possible of having such a huge space all to myself. My goal is to take time now to flush out ideas on paper and small panels so in early June I can begin working on larger panels knowing what I want to do with them. I have been able to work on larger pieces here and there, but the last time I worked on a panel that was five feet wide I had to set it up on a cabinet in our hallway. Having a bigger studio space means I can go totally crazy, and I can't wait to see what unfolds when I can work on panels that require a ladder.
"Look at your work and it tells you how it is when you hold back or when you embrace. When you are lazy, your art is lazy; when you hold back, it holds back; when you hesitate, it stands there staring, hands in its pockets. But when you commit, it comes on like blazes." ~Art & Fear
The Other Side
[The Treasury at Petra; I specifically took my iPhone with me that day so I could play with the Camera Bag filters!]
After days or months or years or however long it has been or felt like, the moment I move through whatever tangles I've felt ensnared in is rarely a moment when I hear angels sing or feel the earth vibrate. In fact, it has never happened that way. It usually happens when I'm not really paying attention, or sometimes when I'm learning how to pay attention in an entirely new way. Every once in a while a shift happens because I simply decide it is time to move on, but most of the time anxieties dissolve quietly, sneaking away while I do laundry, wash dishes, and sleep.
Someone said to me last week, "Everything is working as it is supposed to, you just don't like it," and I laughed out loud. So true! Although at that exact moment part of me was still a wee bit skeptical about the "Everything is working fine" part, but here I am just a few days later and I realize she was absolutely right. Later in the conversation I told this certain someone, "You should write books," trying to give her a laugh in return since her latest book, Hand Wash Cold, is about to be released. Karen Maezen Miller manages to express some of the most profound truths in the most simplest of ways, and she has taught me a great deal about letting things be rather than trying to judge or control. My mantra as of late has been "I vow to take what I am given," and ever since I first read those words on her blog I've imagined them dangling on a charm bracelet that never leaves my wrist, reminding me of how simple it can all really be, this thing called my life.
Considering the way I feel now, I have to say that last week's emotional downpour was totally, utterly, completely worth it. The act of letting myself cry like I hadn't cried in years (yes, years) washed so much muck out of me, and served as yet another reminder of how powerful it is when I dare to face my worst fears and demons head on. Every time I have been willing to do this I have been rewarded with a softening in my heart and a quieting in my mind, serving as the greatest catalyst for whatever changes within myself I have been longing for. And the act of letting it be known that I was in a dark place and in need of support also opened up an entirely new window, showing me that it is OK to ask others to take the wheel for a while. It isn't always easy for me to do – to reach out and ask for help – but I am learning that it is a beautiful, necessary element of any path towards healing.
Is the situation that has been the source of my woes suddenly gone? Have the problems been immediately solved? The answer is no, but what has shifted is that I have finally let myself completely sink into a place of acceptance about it all. And while from a certain perspective it looks like this shift happened overnight, it was actually the result of a thousand tiny steps (and slips and stumbles) taken over a long period of time with the intention of finding a peaceful place within myself regarding this situation. Every great leap I've taken hasn't happened because I've run wildly towards a cliff; every great leap has occurred because I've laid the groundwork and taken all the steps necessary to reach the most appropriate cliff…the cliff that isn't simply a cliff, but a jumping off point, a place from which I can soar.
So this week I am doing what most needs to be done: I am working. I am creating new pieces of artwork, experimenting with ideas and making a monumental mess in my studio. I am finishing my days covered in paint and falling into bed a little more tired than usual. And I am being vigilant about where I let my mind wander. Now that I've gotten myself out of this particular forest I'm going to make sure I don't find my way back there simply because I wasn't paying attention. Almost every thought these days is being steered towards my work, towards ideas about what to create and how to create it….towards color and texture and memories of Jordan.
100 Books Project :: The Big Apple
[Book #48 was left in New York City February 25, 2010 by Book Fairy Stefanie Renee.]
The lovely Stefanie Renee became a Book Fairy this year when she took a trip to New York City. You might remember her as one of the 2010 Squammettes who found Book #27 back in September.
"It was snowing hard outside – I mean really coming down – so leaving it outside as I'd intended wasn't going to work. A friend of mine took me to a little french cafe where we had the best time catching up, drinking tea and enjoying a yummy breakfast. They had white twinkly lights outside on the trees; with the snow falling, it was simply magical. The cafe was in the movie You've got Mail with Meg Ryan!
The bathrooms were nice, so I thought, what the hell….this looked like the right place with the right people to receive such a gift.
I loved being a bit sneaky, a bit of a fairy, and wish I could have sat there and really watched for who would come out holding this gift, but I couldn't…..
Thank you for giving me the honor ~ it was much fun!"
No, Thank YOU Stefanie!!
