Welcoming Myself to This New Day

"Only a few things in life really matter, and those few things that do matter, matter immeasurably." Kent Kilbourne

In the past two weeks I've had three mini vacations away from home and at restaurants and theaters, at shops and hotels or private homes, I've been struck by the importance of how feeling welcome adds to my enjoyment of a show or a meal or conversation or even my perception of the hotel room before I get to it. This morning I'm thinking about the importance of welcoming myself to this day and how that can make the difference between me feeling energized and enthusiastic or slogging onward, because this morning I didn't welcome myself as an honored guest and then move on. First thing today I peeked into the Life Book 2014 lesson, felt overwhelmed, and right now I am trying hard to resist a downward spiral of not knowing what to do with myself of not wanting to take out art materials and start this new project.

So I start over. I do what I usually do each morning. I have a glass of hot lemon water and sit down to the computer for a five minute writing to learn what's on my mind in the most gentle way.  This  routine is important to me. I wake up, still more a part of my night than my day. This daily routine welcomes me gently, gives me time to enter quietly, time to smile at myself, time to say "hello dearie, I'm glad to see you again, how are you feeling, I'm glad you're here. Now please take a deep breath and just sit here for a few minutes." It makes such a difference to me. In those few minutes of restarting my day, of honoring myself with a decent welcome, of doing something immeasurably important to me, I've decided to delay the art project until later today or tomorrow and do something else I've been wanting to do: create very small works. And my world won't end if I don't do this week's class another day. Or not at all.

Last Monday after my water and writing and sitting and listening routine, I decided not to go to a yoga class but rather do it later in the week. I felt so liberated. Last Monday and Tuesday I was in a flow of activity and productivity I know I wouldn't have been if I hadn't taken a few minutes to allow my heart and body figure out what I needed to do rather than my head. I trust this part of me to know the way when my head is busy busting barriers and making too much noise. I've been actively trying not to try. You can click onto this link and read more about this here.  This link brings you to the brilliant brainpickings.com. Always interesting and thought provoking. It will seriously sidetrack you if you start your day here.

Baruch ata adonai....I am so grateful to be in this stage of my life when I have the time and presence to listen to myself, to be gentle with myself, to honor and welcome myself to this new day. Amen

Upon Awakening

Upon Awakening

Listen
this spring morning
to dew drops
sunshine
blossoms opening
noise on the freeway.

Listen
for back stories
echoes of relationships
loops between words

how I'm changed
by friendships

It takes a little while
when I awake
to invite myself to this
new day
to reassign labels
I gave myself yesterday.

I'm feeling a bit anxious...
breathe, stretch
say good morning
wait for the dance to begin
trust my muscles
know the steps.

I haven't written poetry for a long time. This is the fruit of one of my early morning five minute writings...not born exactly this way, but the framework was there when I wrote intuitively without an idea of where I was headed. Several times lately, when I've realized I can't get places with my thinking brain, I've found my way when I trusted my muscle memory, built over time, to get me there. It's such an interesting experience.

Baruch ata adonai...The past two weeks I've burst with creative energy or felt dry dry dry, and I've been acutely aware they are only cycles. If I wait, I will bloom and I will fade. I'll feel indolent and then suddenly awake with possibilities. I ebb and flow with inner tides. Now I know I am at peace.  Amen

Create Your Best Days

"The universe supplies exactly and absolutely what you perceive your reality to be, that is to say, what you believe in." The Art of Manifestation

Each time I stand in front of a work of art that resonates with me, each time I look at a tree tricked out in spring bloom, each time I meet with a friend and feel a spark of recognition fill the hidden spaces between us, I am changed and enriched in a way that fills me with joy. As Gary Zukov said, "Every intention sets energy in motion whether you are conscious of it or not," so why not set that energy in motion on purpose.

Recently I have been thinking of things I'd like to manifest in my life, simple things  I can recognize when they happen.  The first day I set the intention of manifesting lots of contact with friends, and that came to pass the next day: two emails from people I haven't connected with in a long time, phone calls and an invitation to lunch. I felt embraced with love. The next day I paid it forward and called my friend, the Glorious Grandma Glad for her 94th birthday and emailed a few people I was thinking about.

Yesterday I searched for a lost library book, due today, one I hadn't even gotten around to reading. I began systematically cleaning up one room after another: the bedroom, my studio, the kitchen, my office. Everything looked immaculate, but I still hadn't found that book. I emailed a friend and asked her to manifest me finding it because she's good at that sort of thing, and then I thought I would test this whole manifestation idea and see what would happen. I set the intention of finding it easily and not worrying about it if I didn't. Shortly after, I walked into my office, put my hand on the books above my desk and fingered each one. There it was, and then I remembered putting away a stack of books a couple of days before and jamming them in empty spaces.

I don't believe this happens with furrowed brow, a grim determination to wish something into existence, and preparing yourself for failure.  I think it happens when we hold our intention lightly like listening for the sounds of birds and then continue on our way. What I've found since I've been doing this is that everything seems like a gift.

Baruch ata adonai...thank you for the richness of my days, the opportunity to create art and the balm of friendship. Amen

Let Go of Rules to Get Moving

"'Synchronicity is there when we're ready for it.' It's like the first rule my father taught us about surfing. You have to be moving to be moved. It's one part labor, one part grace." Jeff Nunokawa

Baruch ata adonai...writing today's blog has been an exercise in patience. It has taken me hours. Because I haven't been writing, I'm rusty. I'm going to begin writing everyday for five minutes first thing in the morning. I used to do this and I want to begin again. I am grateful to myself for coming back to this piece over and over until I finished. Amen - See more at: http://morningprayerblog.blogspot.com/#sthash.ZgKQknq9.dpuf

At the end of my last blog, I committed to writing five minutes each morning to stretch my writing muscles. I pulled out three thin volumes by poets Mary Oliver, Wislawa Symborska and Billy Collins so they would be ready for me to open to a random page in the morning. Years ago I worked my way through Genesis and Exodus in this way. That night before going to bed I leafed through an old New Yorker and read about Jeff Nunokawa, a Princeton professor, who does exactly the same thing I'm doing and has done it for years on Facebook. It was hard for me to fall asleep. I wanted to Google him and could hardly wait to begin writing. He too finds a writing prompt, writes on it for five minutes or more, and publishes it on Facebook.The next morning I emailed him to say how amazing it is that I should have had this particular magazine for so long and only last night read about him. I concluded, "Synchronicity is there when we're ready for it." He wrote back, "'Synchronicity is there when we're ready for it.' It's like the first rule my father taught us about surfing. You have to be moving to be moved. It's one part labor, one part grace."


I Go Down to the Shore by Mary Oliver.
I go down to the shore in the morning
and depending on the hour the waves
are rolling in or moving out,
and I say, oh, I am miserable
what shall--
what should I do? And the sea says in its lovely voice:
Excuse me, I have work to do.

If I am miserable, it doesn’t matter if the waves are moving in or moving out. It doesn’t matter if I say I should. It doesn’t matter.  If I am miserable should I simply be miserable? Allow that to happen? What a waste of a day. Waves do what they do. And for me, writing. If I want to or not. If I feel inspired or miserable, or too busy. I’ve set myself just five minutes to play in the waves. I can consider it my work or I can consider it my chance to play unfettered by rules or purpose other than to write. My internal waves come and go, in and out, and I too have work to do. 3/4/14

I could edit this endlessly, but the thing about a five minute writing is that I don't. I love it because I learn something I wouldn't learn in the endless loops of rethinking and rewriting. At the end I have recommitted to the next day. I love it because it's imperfect and I get to leave it just that way.

Baruch ata adonai...writing gives me such joy when it is freely received by me and written down without my brain commenting on anything at all. I begin writing before it is awake enough to make kindly suggestions or do an eye roll. It's as if I'm in love all over again. Amen

Baruch ata adonai...writing today's blog has been an exercise in patience. It has taken me hours. Because I haven't been writing, I'm rusty. I'm going to begin writing everyday for five minutes first thing in the morning. I used to do this and I want to begin again. I am grateful to myself for coming back to this piece over and over until I finished. Amen - See more at: http://morningprayerblog.blogspot.com/#sthash.ZgKQknq9.dpuf

Baruch ata adonai...writing today's blog has been an exercise in patience. It has taken me hours. Because I haven't been writing, I'm rusty. I'm going to begin writing everyday for five minutes first thing in the morning. I used to do this and I want to begin again. I am grateful to myself for coming back to this piece over and over until I finished. Amen - See more at: http://morningprayerblog.blogspot.com/#sthash.ZgKQknq9.dpuf

In Sync with Why

"I bless this journey
with moments of delight
where time disappears
and truth emerges...."
Peleg Top

Week Four Life Book 2014

This quote by Peleg Top is my current measure to see if I'm in sync with my why. Why am I doing what I'm doing now? When I'm in touch with my why, I create with soul filling energy.

I would say I'm deep in the healing step of reclaiming my joy in creating. Yesterday I stopped by a shop that shows my cards. I wanted to swap some out, and when I got home, the truth was that I didn't want to make cards to sell anymore. I love the time I spend drawing. The joy drained out when I began to "manufacture" them to sell. Above my desk is an  unfinished painting from Flora's last online class. It has a lot going for it. When I can approach it again and work on it with delight, I will. I will not struggle with myself to get myself to do it. Right now I'm having a lot of fun beginning with a toilet roll and seeing what I can do with it. I'm playing to get the fun back into art.

Elements of an Assemblage in Progress

As I try out different elements and while I play with assemblages, the hours pass seamlessly. I draw little ladies that make  me happy. They grew out of years of doodling and express various parts of me. As with writing, when I draw, my creative expression comes from following an intuitive trail, and when I come to the end, I feel a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction. Painting is a very different thing. Much more difficult and less spontaneous. My main achievement in Flora's Bloom True class is letting go of outcome. I love big brushes, big canvases, big mess, lots of layers. Fun if I don't make work out of it. I'm looking forward to that.

I'm so grateful to artist Jeanne Bessette who asks great questions on her HeArt Space Facebook page.

Baruch ata adonai...it's so easy to do what I do because I've walked down a path I thought was a good idea or because someone encouraged me to, but when I've lost energy and enthusiasm for that way of doing or being, I've lost myself. Just now there are lots of teachers in my life all saying the same thing in different ways and I'm hearing them. Thank you. Amen

On Your Mark, Get Set, Let Go

"There was no effort. There was no struggle. It wasn't good and it wasn't bad. It was what it was, and it is just that. In the space of letting go, she let it all be." Rev. Safier Rose

I awoke from a long dream and knew it was an important one. There were the usual suspects: people I haven't seen for years, in places I'm not quite sure exist, vaguely connected to things I've recently encountered. Toward the end I'm sitting on the ground Indian style (which I can't do anymore), writing important sayings on a block of plastic wrapped Monterey Jack cheese which is supported by a stack of my green childhood encyclopedias, which in real life I just gave away and haven't looked at in years. The dream occurred at the end of a week when all the steps I wrote about a couple of  weeks ago were finished, and I felt there was nothing more I could do to help myself prepare for the future.

As soon as I woke up and wrote the dream down, I realized it had a important piece of information for me. Cheese melts. Reference books are not only out of date, but also unread, and no matter how much I prepare for the changes ahead, life is going to happen in unpredictable ways. Relax. There is nothing I can control. At that moment, I let go.

And remember my experience at Equine Therapy less than a month ago? Until I let go of my self talk, my self defeating self talk, until I emptied myself of all thought and just stood quietly and at peace with no expectations, only then would the horse know I was safe and it was safe with me. Only then could we join together and play together.

Today is the beginning of the third week of an online art class that involves, guess what, letting go. What you see is the third step. The first two layers are applications of warm colors and cool colors. The class is about painting intuitively. I see some good stuff here, and I know my head and my heart are loving this journey. Great music is on and am having fun. Nothing in mind. No expectations. Then we're on to adding black and white.

Oh dear. Getting a bit chaotic and yet there are elements here I hope I can come back to. I know they're going to disappear with the next layers, but there are parts I love, and before it becomes too precious, too hard to let go, I add more elements so I can move on. Then we add three translucent colors.

This is what letting go looks like. I know it is just where it's suppose to be, and yet, where are the parts I loved so much? We've been told not to worry about pretty or making it look like anything in particular. I've taken this class three times, and I've never gotten this far, never been able to look at it and not see chaos and be scared and intimidated. I can hardly wait to see what we're going to be asked to do next.

In order to let go, I've got to go against my nature. I've got to let go of being in control, of needing to have a plan, of knowing where things are going. In paintings and dreams and in life, things change quickly. What I'm changing is only paint on canvas, and I do know it's much more than that. The other side of being in control is everything else that is possible.

"There was no effort. There was no struggle. It wasn't good and it wasn't bad. It was what it was, and it is just that. In the space of letting go, she let it all be." Rev. Safire Rose

Baruch ata adonai...what a journey. I'm loving all these lessons one after the other. Thank you. Thank you. Amen

What Wings Do

"When she transformed into a butterfly, the caterpillars spoke not of her beauty but of her weirdness. They wanted her to change back into what she had always been. But she had wings!"  Dean Jackson

I'm in familiar territory. Painting and sweet talking myself. Telling myself to be calm, it's only paint. Telling myself to be brave and bold. I witness my thoughts: happy and confident and then judgmental.  It is totally ridiculous. I'm flying and then I'm crawling, then I'm flying again. It isn't a coincidence that Transform is the title of my vision book.

My goal is to change the way I approach painting, and of course, this is a metaphor for the way I sometimes approach my life, isn't it. Isn't that true for you too? Isn't whatever way you're approaching whatever you're doing a metaphor for the way you approach everything? I'm going for gentle. I'm going for stopping before I get frustrated. I'm looking to be calm and kind and nice to myself. I'm trusting my intuition to keep me safe from my inner caterpillar. There is nothing wrong with a caterpillar. In fact I am probably in the caterpillar stage of painting right now, except for when I'm a butterfly. I do love all that flying around looking beautiful. I've created an altar and also some cute little affirmation cards and each day I paint, I remember to honor my inner caterpillar and honor my inner butterfly who is learning how to spread her artist wings.

When my kids were little, we had empty acreage behind our home where milkweed mixed in with  grasses and walnut trees, squirrels, field mice, and in season, butterflies. One year we put a stick, a caterpillar and milkweed into a jar, covered it and forgot about it. When we looked much later, we found a butterfly whose wings were glued together because it wasn't allowed to fly.

Baruch ata adonai.... Help me spread my wings. Help me show up for myself. Be with me as I support the part of me doing something she isn't quite sure she will ever be able to do. Isn't that silly? I am doing it. Help me let go of expectations. Please whisper in my ear, "Have fun my dearest." Amen

Be a Warrior: Ask for What You Want and Follow Through

"There is something about the outside of a horse that is good for the inside of a man."
Winston Churchill

The moment I saw the light between the woman and the horse, I knew I wanted that light in my body forever. There is so much energy on this page in my vision book, and it was such a surprise to find the answer to my soul's learning on these pages.

The answer to my soul's yearning from my vision page in the August Joy Up.

My fingers began Googling, and within an hour I signed up for a course of Equine Therapy two hours from my home. One month later I was just as close to a horse as the picture above, and inside I was just like that little leaping girl. It is the best birthday present I've ever given myself. When I sent in my deposit, I had no idea what Equine Therapy was until much later when I watched a video about it and thought, "Holy Shit! That's more than I bargained for." I trust my intuition and I trusted that this would be right for me. I thought it was probably about working through fear, and it certainly was. And so much more and so right on.

The Morning of the Second Day

I just returned a day ago. I don't want to write about the course and all I learned, just know that I was a warrior! Doesn't mean I fought anything or even myself. I knew nothing about horses, had next to no experience with them, didn't want to ride them, but I knew without a doubt to be with them is my secret yearning. The first two times in the ring I had no idea what I wanted the horse to do or how to do it. The next afternoon I was in a big arena with another participant and together as a team and using only non verbal communication we moved a big white horse through a variety of barriers. As we stood together at the end of the exercise, the horse came up to us and nuzzled our joined hands. I was brave. I asked for what I wanted, and I got it. I know I will be integrating the awareness learned from being with a variety of big horses forever.

Baruch ata adonai...Thank you for always telling me to trust myself and ask for what I want. I am much bigger inside, inside my silent and centered self, than I ever experienced before. I set an intention and showed up with all I had. We were blessed with a very rainy day. Cleansing rain and new strength. Thank you. Amen

A Different Kind of I'm Possible

Joy Up!! 

How could I not take an online class whose title alone seduced me. Day by day the inspirational and seductive Hannah Marcotti, took me from step to step to find my soul's longing, and amazing to me, those twelve days of Joy Up will be life changing. Last week's blog was written on day four. I began to think of joy as my soul's longing and explored ways to tap into what that might be. One of the projects was to do vision boards. The process is to get your precious head out of the equation and find pictures and words that sing to you, to your soul, which I'm only beginning to understand, to your heart, and then figure out why you've pasted them together. Perhaps you saw the article in Oprah where I found these pictures and words.

Drawing on my want list from last week's blog I wrote: "I'm Possible. I'll walk into a room knowing people love me or soon will (Byron Katie), wear lovely underpants (I bought a few), love my upper arms (I wear sleeveless shirts despite the skin drapery), love my workout and what I get from it, be beautiful and healthy. 

Next I made this vision board. The chief message for me: regret is poisonous. Here's how to ditch it.

Two days later, my vision board was titled "Ten Ways to Manifest a Different Kind of I'm Possible."

Number ten on this list: How to add more Ahhh-Ohhh to my life.

Yesterday this is what I wrote.

I want to wear a clown nose and dance and sing in my car so people think a party's going on. 

I want to live in a cozy cottage all my own that surrounds me like a sanctuary of tenderness and love. 

I want to focus on my joy until it finally seeps into my pores and out through my eyes, out through the lines in my face, until people ask me what my secret is.

Doesn't mean I've manifested this yet, but I do have a clear vision of me being like that one day soon. 

While looking for Ahhh Ohhh pictures, I found one that riveted me: a picture of a woman and a horse and a light glowing between them. I had to know more. Three hours later, I gave myself an incredible birthday present. I signed up and I felt incredible excitement. More excitement than fear. More surprise than excitement. A week after my birthday in September I'm going to do a workshop on Equine Therapy. I feel just like that little girl. This isn't a class on riding a horse. It's more like getting to a place where I can have a conversation with a horse. Google Koelle Simpson/equine therapy and imagine me there. Imagine you there too!

Only two pictures and a lot of writing. For now, this is my answer to my soul's yearning, my teacher. If you look on the bottom left, you'll see I'm also thinking I will submit a painting to the Stockton Art League's upcoming show. Amend that to I will. 

It has been an incredible twelve day journey. 

If you receive this by email, please click on the title, A Different Kind of I'm Possible, and read it again from there. I would so love for you to take a chance and begin to comment on my blog. I've figured out how to make it easier and asked a couple of frustrated readers to try it, and they've said, it's true. It's easy.  

Baruch ata adonai...I feel as though I've climbed a mountain. This ascent has been joyful. I'm pumping my fist. I look ahead at another steep incline and there I am. It's my head next to a horse's head and there is a lovely white light between us. More climbing to do. I love this. Thank you for being with me on this journey. Are you smiling? Amen

 

                                                                                             

Starting This New Day

"The mind turns. the thoughts churn. those old familiar tunes re-play themselves over and over in my stubborn head." Marcie Scudder

We begin each new day, each new activity, each attempt to love what is, with where we are. It may feel just like yesterday, but if we look close enough, it isn't precisely the same. That tune that sounds so familiar is slightly different.  I like to look out the window near my computer and meditate on who I am right at the beginning of a new day. This morning, it turns out I'm in hangover from the emotional overload of the weekend. I feel a bit like this:

If I'd paid attention, really paid attention to the tune in my head, I never would have decided to charge into a computer problem that seems to interfere with readers leaving comments. I only recently found out google+ might be the culprit, and I want to opt out, so of course I googled for directions on how to do that. Not such a good choice. I immediately came to this fork in the road. "I understand that deleting the service can't be undone and data I delete can't be restored." With a click of the button I can "remove selected services," but what am I removing? It's too early in the morning to make such a commitment. Today I'm not an armored knight. Actually I need a hand to hold, a shoulder to cry on, I definitely need more selected services and I haven't had breakfast.

It's easy enough to decide not to deal with google+ on an empty stomach and a too full head, and maybe one of you can find me on Facebook and tell me how to do it. For now,  I'm getting a glass of lemon water and a cheese stick so I can continue to write and get my sugar level up a bit. OK, I hear you. Maybe not a cheese stick.

My yoga teacher advises me to remember I'm not asking for perfection. I only need to make space in my body to listen. She suggests I breathe. I close my eyes and concentrate on my breath. Maybe I'll put myself in this mountain scene. This is a photo of hike into Lake Winnemucca I took last weekend. You could sit here for a bit while I breathe.

While I breathe, I focus on the in and out of my breath, and then the thought came that I should call an old friend and ask for her help. I thanked the thought and went back to focus on my breath. "Just this," a mantra I used in the past came next. "Just this moment. Just this step. Just this one thing." Yes. I thank the thought and go back to following my breath. Next in my mind I'm doing the sun salutation. After decades as a yoga student, I haven't practiced the asanas in months. In my mind as I go through the steps I am rusty, but the thought comes, "trust your muscle memory." Yes. It's where I need to be today. For today I need to trust just this. Trust just this breath. Trust just this feeling. Move from moment to moment, because as we all know, moment to moment is all we have anyway. Perhaps I should have continued to meditate longer, I wish I had, but for now it is a good starting place for my day.

So here I am. I've shown up for the day and I've made space for my body to listen and begin to pay attention, to play this new tune louder than the old static trying to take over but lower in volume now. "Trust just his moment."I choose this intention to take me into my day for now, knowing I may slip away, knowing I can come back, knowing I have muscle memory for this thought too.

Baruch ata adonai...my prayers the last few nights have been simple ones. "Help!"Today I start with the prayer to trust myself to stay in the present moment. Please help me stay in the present moment, thanking my other thoughts for their opinions, but trusting where I need to be is with just this one thought, just this one moment, just this one step. It's not an easy practice. Help. Amen

Creating Space to Grow

Last week I weeded shelves in my studio and spent the rest of the day unsentimentally clearing the debris left on the floor into giveaway and throwaway boxes. The bones of my shelves are labeled boxes are nicely and generously organized. Anything that can't be defined so I just might have a chance of finding it again is gone. I have created space to grow. I no longer need to push away mess to begin anew. I've framed and displayed some of my little ladies, and I'm ready to head in a new direction art wise.

I learn in my studio that overgrowth scares me. Being lost scares me, and simplifying and letting go help deal with those fears. It's a tidy process. I just ended the previous sentence by saying, "...but it's not so much like life." Then I began to wonder if it could hold the key to what's on my mind now. Can beliefs be so readily categorized and dealt with?

As I set my intention for the coming week, I acknowledge in my out of studio life, I am a bit lost, but a lot found. Just because I'm scared, doesn't mean I have to duck and cover. It doesn't mean I'm back at the beginning again. It doesn't mean anything but what I attach to it. You may not know what I'm talking about, but you can look inside and check out where in your life you are a bit lost and a lot found. That's just where I am. Old beliefs are seductive, but they aren't working. I am at a junction. I'm letting go of expectations for myself and am letting go of expecting others to change or not change, and for today, around this one issue that's thrown me, I'm going to try something just to get me going. I'm creating a bag for old beliefs I want to get rid of and one for beliefs worth saving.

I take a deep breath. There is work to do today. I take a deep breath. This is where I am at the present moment. I need to make space in my body now. I need to box up and let go what doesn't serve now. I need to re-pattern myself. I need to return to my heart center and give my brain a break.

Baruch ata adonai...everything I'm doing supports and opens me to trust myself. May I be patient and generous with myself and others as I clear and allow myself space to grow. Amen

What Is Your Story?

"If you understand the strands of your creative DNA, you begin to see how they mutate into common threads in your work. You begin to see the 'story' that you're trying to tell; why you do the things you do (both positive and self-destructive); where you are strong and where you are weak...and how you see the world and function in it."

Twyla Tharp, The Creative Habit Learn It and Use It For Life.

For a month last year, Twyla Tharp, a most outstanding choreographer and dancer was my mentor. Early on, her thirty-three questions helped me look at my creative autobiography. Recently  Richie Norton in his book The Power of Starting Something Stupid mentored me through developing my Be Bold Collection of cards and bookmarks. With such wonderful mentors, how could I have been caught off guard when Kay, the owner of the charming French at Heart boutique, asked me what my story is? She bought twelve cards to sell and said her customers want to know the story behind the items they purchase. She means she wants to know my story as an artist, and if you've been following me for any time at all, you know connecting my story to the word artist has been a journey. 

As I went through Twyla's questionnaire, I learned my DNA has to do with the particulars of swirling colorful and fleeting moments bumping into each other to reveal universal concerns about being social, active, and curious. I've made cards for friends over the past few years and the common response is, "Your cards make me happy." As I went through Richie's book, I began to break the process down and I am learning to trust myself. I can't begin to explain why it is all working, and for now, I'm not asking any questions. I think this is my story. 

Two years ago at the beginning of a painting class I created this affirmation. Today I own it. 

The past month has been quite a ride! By the end of June, I will have sold about a hundred cards to galleries, a museum store, and boutiques. Last week I spent three days in near isolation making forty more cards, thanks to the help of a friend who volunteered to help with the assembly process and also developed a new line of cards and bookmarks thanks to the encouragement of a friend who liked the one I posted a few blogs ago. Our Lady of Fatal Assumptions and Our Lady of Possibilities are two entirely new Be Bold Girls who have come to life. So much fun! So much work! So much satisfaction! 

For the time being, I'm not opening an Etsy shop. If you are interested in seeing or buying my cards or bookmarks, please send me your email address or your web or blog address so I can get in touch with you. My email address is babschwartz68@gmail.com.

Baruch ata adonai...Help me to remain honest with myself and what I can do and can't do. Help me keep to a pace that is healthy for me. I want to keep my artist side a part of my life not let it become my life. Where I am right now is the answer to a prayer. Thank you. Don't let me become grandiose. Remind me small steps keep moving me forward. Remind me the words artist and play and fun go hand in hand together. Thank you for bringing me to this time in my life. Amen

Accepting Authenticity as an Artist

"Most of us simply don't know how to move from who we are pretending to be to who we truly are. Every day, you either become more aligned with your authentic self or you move further away. And the difference lies completely in the choices you make." Richie Norton, The Power  of Starting Something Stupid

I still stumble when someone asks if I'm an artist: after all, real artists are in galleries, are on museum walls, are the stuff of art history classes. Now my art is in a museum, in the museum gift shop, and my art will soon be in galleries. I'm in transition as I move from someone who dabbles to someone who must own that a change has taken place. My challenge is to become comfortable calling myself an artist and become comfortable selling my art.

I can trace the change to two things: my sister and a friend strongly encouraged me to hang my canvases on the walls in my home, and The Power of Starting Something Stupid. I found this book recommended on a blog I tripped on one day. As I read, not yet connecting what I read to what I would begin to do, I thought of my son and how much this book was aimed at him, and still not yet connecting to myself, I decided to ask the manager of our local Haggin Museum if she would look at my cards and consider selling them there. She said yes, and then a new friend, a gallery owner, said yes too.

The past week I felt as though I was running rough. I think my gears had been stripped.  This morning,  I believe I am going through a realignment and am moving toward a new balance, the first of many I'm sure, as I accept my authentic self as an artist.

Baruch ata adonai...it is a blessing to accept myself as I am. Why have I been struggling? As this new path opens, help me to stay calm, to recognize more quickly when I'm stressing myself, to breathe and meditate when I'm feeling overwhelmed. Help me to love myself when I doubt and to appreciate and enjoy the journey into the totally unexpected life bonus opening to me. Amen

Great News: The Subject Reveals Itself

"Each painting has its own way of evolving....When the painting is finished, the subject reveals itself."
William Baziogtes

After waiting all week, I finally had time to begin painting again. I could hardly wait. For this warm up day, I pulled out a 12x12 canvas waiting for something to happen to it

and one paper that began life in some now forgotten way.

My camera was ready for me to capture the steps in my process. My expectations were low. Music danced inside and outside. The challenge was on.

Quickly George the cat appeared. But no, not exactly. I thought it was going to be Gracie, my labradoodle. It was Gracie pretending to be a cat named George. Go Gracie!

Ever since I bought Creative Illustration Workshop for Mixed-Media Artists  by Katherine Dunn, I've been wanting to combine painting with story using found materials. I haven't had time to get to it, but now with George, I have a beginning. I think I'll see what happens if I add some pastels or give him a slight makeover or write his story all around him and add earrings.

This is what happens when I don't know where I'm going and decide to use up the paint left over from George on a canvas I wanted to head in an entirely different direction. I was having such a great time, it was hard not to be exuberant with color and go way over the top.

These paintings aren't finished, but they are revealing themselves. This is so much like real life. If I have fun instead of being serious, if I go where my intuition takes me even if it doesn't make any sense at all, if I play with ideas instead deciding angst is a reasonable way to spend my time, something will evolve that has never been created before. It may be nothing at all, and a day will have passed in a most delightful way. Thanks to Leslie Saeta for reminding me to document my progress.

Baruch ata adonai...have I ever had so much fun painting in such a light and carefree way? I'm still pumped up when I think about it. You keep reminding me to be happy and grateful and this day when I painted I was both. Amen

Go Back to Basics Over and Over

                               "A mind too active is no mind at all." Theodore Roethke

While the city slept, my mind on dreams fired off in the most extravagant ways, painting over and over my plans for the next day. By the time I woke up, well, got out of bed, I was fully in my head, buzzy and floaty. Know the feeling? Most of the day I did productive procrastination. I've got a system now and made a bunch of cards and aimed at setting up an Etsy shop mid afternoon. And I started. And I stopped. And I decided if just the thought of all the work involved had stopped my creative juices from flowing what would happen if I force marched myself through the steep learning curve and onto page 800 something in the greeting card category?

So I listened to a Jon Kabat-Zinn mindfulness meditation CD and let the Mountain Meditation take over. What came to me was Morning Pages. Get back to the Morning Pages. Go to the bottom of the mountain and start hiking up again. Have you read Julia Cameron's book The Artist's Way? From my notes it looks like I've been reading parts of it for years. Morning pages are three pages of longhand stream-of-consciousness writing aimed at draining the blah blah blah out of your head. Here's where you dump off your creative Censor's negative opinions and other untruths you're telling yourself even though they are certainly the gospel. When I finished writing yesterday, I felt as though I made a U-Turn just before the hitting the wall of creative burnout. Day after day of dumping will finally clear the space for inner wisdom to come percolating through the ooze. I come home to Morning Pages as soon as my mind clears space for the memory of Morning Pages to surface. And so this morning I'm back to the place of my inner grounding, I am gratefully back to basics. Returning home. Yeah!

Here's Laurel, one of the Be Bold Card series, doing the happy dance with bouquets of hearts in her hands. Not sure why she has that big grey box around her, but that's another learning curve to deal with another day. She and her sisters are going to bed for now.

Baruch ata adonai...I am happy and grateful for all the work I've done on this series. I'm delighted the Haggin Museum is buying them. I'm hoping people will love them. Now I'm putting all the pieces and parts in boxes and cleansing my brain. Help me to be willing to write morning pages for at least the next month, because I know this is what I need to do for my health. Remind me to be patient with myself as I begin to paint again. Remind me it will take awhile to get my muscles working. Thank you. Amen

I Am Worthy, Yes I Am. Repeat.

"Yes, we are totally exposed when we are vulnerable. Yes, we are in the torture chamber that we call uncertainty. And, yes, we're taking a huge emotional risk when we allow ourselves to be vulnerable. But there's no equation where taking risks, braving uncertainty, and opening ourselves up to emotional exposure equals weakness."
Brene Brown, Daring Greatly

I'm just starting Brene's book, thank you Flora, and I'm only in chapter two. It's already dogeared. Just this very weekend, just a few days ago, I felt off balance, cranky, sad, and I didn't know why. Then I read a few chapters in, and yes, I was feeling vulnerable. But why? And more so, what was the cause of that feeling and how quickly could I escape. I told my sorry story to a friend. I knew I had to reach out quickly before I could tell myself too big a story about it. Well, guess what? You know what. Because she is a very good listener and because she could identify a similar experience, the story she told me was put in a way that I understood a part of the seed I had planted in myself. As I read, I'm learning more about how vulnerability works.

I'm hoping some of you might start reading Daring Greatly, or if you have, start talking with me about it in the comments section. I's a book worth buying. One of the things I'm working on with myself as I write and add my art on my blogs, as I show my paintings, is to disconnect my feeling of self worth from the comments I do or don't receive. It's easy to attach my self worth to the number of comments that come in. It's easy to attach my self worth to the way people offer feedback on my art. What if you love it? That's great, just as long as I don't bump up my feeling of self worth because of it or feel shame because you don't. We are so complicated!

Baruch ata adonai...I take a lot of chances in life. May I continue to do so. May I move ahead bravely. May I not believe all my inner voices: not the misguided ones that whisper venom or the cheerleaders who rah rah me into believing anything can happen as long as I jump up and down cheer loud enough. What's important to me now is to love the doing of what I'm doing. And I do. Amen

Awaken Sleeping Beauties. It's Spring!

"Spring is nature's way of saying, "Let's Party!" Robin Williams

"...springtime maks people crazy. We expect too much, the world burgeons with promises it can't keep, all passion is really a set up, and we're doomed to get our hearts broken yet again, I agree, and would further add: Who cares? Every spring I go out there anyway, around the bend, unconditionally....Come the end of the dark days, I am more than joyful. I'm nuts." Barbara Kingsolver, Animal, Vegetable, Miracle

Winter is a holding pattern, when I don't seem to know who I am. Several winters back I capped off holiday festivities with bouts of Seasonal Affective Disorder which came with paralyzing ennui and tethered me to home for weeks at a time. I became very undependable, not knowing if I could plan ahead, not knowing if I could followthrough if I did plan. And then in a burst came the daffodils and, as yesterday, blizzards of flowering pear petals blowing off into the sunshine, and with it the me I thought I knew, the me I hoped would return, blew back in, at first with tentative appearances, and then with strength until I joined the lusty bloomers.

Awaken sleeping beauties. There's no time to waste. The blooming season goes quickly. Bud now and catch a ride. Last May after years of writing prayers and sharing them with friends, I planted within myself the seeds of sharing my prayers with more and more friends-to-be. My first blog came out last May. The buds burst, seeds flew in the wind. Hello Australia. Hello India. Hello Great Britain, Canada, Eastern Europe. I had to wake up to using Facebook too, and not knowing who was reading me, but certainly hoping more and more would.

This year I'm dancing with ideas for creating cards with the little ladies I draw, and I'm putting this idea out to the world. Is my arty sleeping beauty self going to bloom through this spring and summer? Do I expect too much? Am I making promises I can't keep? Am I setting myself up? Who cares. I'm having a great time playing catch with this idea.

It's in holding things lightly I am able to let them go. Each spring I feel I know who I am and who I can be, if I will. Each spring I want to be a fairy and go round the bend with joy and new possibilities. Each spring I grow more and more into my surprised and joyful self.

Baruch ata adonai...what a change from the last tension filled weeks. I open the window and smell possibilities. Thank you for being with me, for not leaving me to my own worst self. Thank you for spring, for flowers, for longer sunny days, for hope. Amen

One Take Away from the Past Week

"It's a beautiful day in my neighborhood, a beautiful day for a neighbor, could you be mine, would you be mine?" Lyrics from Mr. Roger's Neighborhood, a children's TV show of the past

If you're a reader from the US, your childhood or that of your children in the '70s and '80s, maybe even longer, couldn't escape Mr. Rogers Neighborhood. Fred Rogers was a tall, thin, kind, soft talking man who came into the room, put on a cardigan sweater and comfortable shoes and talked to puppets and more particularly directly to young viewers about being kind and solving problems without anger. My two young boys ran to the television when they heard the theme song and sat quietly soothed. "Won't you be my neighbor?" the song ended.

I began singing the tune this morning, after I read a comment on my last blog from Tracy who lives in Australia. She's in my neighborhood, and it's a beautiful day for a neighbor, and it's only seven in the morning on this fourth day of daylight savings time, which means we have beautiful long and longer evenings to look forward to. My mood soars at the thought of being able to walk and garden and feel alive after dinner. During the winter, when it was cold and dark at 6PM, I found myself going to bed earlier and earlier.

Since you're in my neighborhood and sitting down to be with me a few minutes, I want to share the upshot of the past week, doctorwise. Over a week ago I called my husband's doctor to ask a followup question from our meeting the previous week, when we decided not to do a very unpleasant procedure which involved a two night hospital stay. In response, his office left no answer to my question but instead dates for two appointments, the perfect sequence for a pre procedure visit and a date for  the procedure. For a week I left messages asking to speak with the doctor and seven phone calls later, three yesterday alone, I finally spoke with him for generous amount of his time. We are agreed we are not doing the procedure. Since you don't know exactly what I'm talking about regarding my husband's problem, thanks for following along with all this. The current emergency is over.

So what was this last week about? My take away is that I am now prepared with a neighborhood to support me when another event is not so readily resolved and I am perhaps less able to gather my troops together. What this means for caretakers, whether you are talking about caring for yourself in your day to day life or for someone else, is to not go it alone. We know it takes a village to raise a child, and we need a neighbors when we can barely raise ourselves.

Thanks to the world wide web, even if we've moved far from our base to another part of the world, our old neighbors are as close as Skype, which is a great stand in for hand to hand contact. Messages can pass back and forth instantly even with clunky old fashioned email, which I love. So caretakers, reach out. Establish a base before you need it. Even if you have always been a private person who doesn't share woes, reach out now. Everyone needs a neighbor just like you. I sure do.

Baruch ata adonai...I'm still trying to figure out if I totally lost perspective and made myself and my friends anxious for no good reason. I wish I were the kind of person who moved slower, knew the universe would take care of me, and relaxed more. I know. Dream on. I am thankful I'm the kind of person who moves to solve problems, who reaches out and takes chances. I'm thankful readers in Australia and other places I may never go to are in my life. This morning I am optimistic and happy and looking forward to this sunny day. Thank you. Amen

Confronting Myself is Part of the Process

"Art involves a confrontation with oneself that can be surprisingly uncomfortable." Roderick MacIver

In the next week of painting, I know my ego is going raise its hand to be heard. No it isn't that polite. It doesn't even say excuse me, "I have something to say." It will give a few ahems, and if I don't pay attention it will send off salvos of doubt, fear, insecurity, and certainly reminders I have no art training, no talent, and no confidence. It will use all its seductions to bring me back to a place of long ago, when I did live in doubt and fear. I think it's misinformed and doing what it believes is necessary to keep me recognizable, to keep me safe. It's a sorry old thing.

Here's the truth. I don't live in that land of doubt and fear and insecurity any more. That isn't me. What I'm dealing with is the fear that I will slip back into that even briefly, and it will challenge what I know to be true. So when that siren calls me to its shore, I need to step away. I can go for a walk, dance, sing, go to the bakery across the street, sit in the nearby town square and watch people. I can bring myself to a place of peace and beauty. I can plug bouncy music into my ear. I can recognize this is just a blip on the journey. I can thank it for watching over me and update its information.

Baruch ata adonai...please remind me what I know to be true: I have everything I need to paint with joy and freedom. Remind me playing old tapes is just that. Remind me confronting myself is merely a part of the process. Thank you. Amen

Trust the Very First Thing

"I believe in starting each project with a stated goal. Sometimes the goal is nothing more than a personal mantra such as 'keep it simple'...to remind me of what I was thinking at the beginning if and when I lose my way. I write it down on a slip of paper." Twyla Tharp, The Creative Habit

When I sit down to write a prayer, I trust the first thing that catches my eye, the first thing that resonates is what I need to stick with and write about. I trust that first instinctual reaction whether or not it makes sense to me. Yesterday I opened Twyla's book and the first thing I saw rang a bell. I love it when that bell rings and I take off. Sometimes what I see is something too deep or too sad or too confusing or too personal write about. Since I trust my inner caution, I know it's something I need to come back to, and no matter what I write that morning, I know there is something I've chosen not to deal with.

I've used Twyla's idea when I start an art project. Often that word is trust. Just trust. Trust what? I'm not sure. Trust that I'll find my way? Trust that I'll know when I'm done or trust that I need to stop working on it after twenty minutes? When I do this, when I write it down, when I take that thought seriously no matter how silly it might seem at the time, I am more intuitive in my work.

Tomorrow morning before the lists start, before I get up to write a prayer, I'm going to ask myself what my goal for the day is. Will you try this too? I'll let you know how this turns out for me.

Baruch ata adonai...may I let myself be aware of my intuitive thoughts today before I push them aside. May I be aware of uncomfortable feelings that might be behind untrue thoughts. Thank you. Amen