Category Archives: The Creative Journey

Art and creativity, Sheepadoodles, The Creative Journey

Watch me! #BellLetsTalk

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No. 54 #ShePersisted Series
Mixed media on canvas paper
11 x 14″
©2020

It has been a while since I created a painting for the #ShePersisted series I began in March 2017.  Yesterday, I pulled out a background I’d created on the weekend, drew a circle and began to throw down paint.

I didn’t know what I was going to paint. I didn’t have a destination or image to reference. I was going with the flow and letting whatever appeared to be what was visible on the canvas.

She appeared.

She was challenging. Faces always are for me.  They take practice. Skill. An understanding of light and its play with the shadows. A willingness to mess up and dig in.

They’re best painted with a reference photo.

I had none. Somewhere, early in the process, I made a commitment to myself to paint from within me, to use my inner memory/knowing of the face as my reference.

It’s a wonderful challenge. There’s that scared, uncertain place within me where I worry I don’t know enough, I need something solid to guide me. There’s that voice of doubt that takes great joy in whispering, “You can’t do it.”

And then, there’s the vibrant, alive place within me that doesn’t like can’t and don’t and shouldn’t. That voice likes to leap into the fray, calling upon my courage and self-belief to rise up and call out joyfully, “Watch me.”

I painted a woman’s face yesterday.

I didn’t think I could.

And then I did.

I love the magic that happens when I let go of working hard to control the process and instead let myself be the process.

I love the mystery that opens up to wonder when I accept it’s not about ‘doing it perfect’. It’s not about creating something that is a reflection of something else. It’s all about allowing what is calling itself to be expressed from within to become visible on the canvas before me.

This morning, as I look at her, that little voice of doubt and uncertainty, the one who likes to find criticism in so many things, it wants to tell me all the things I could have done differently. I could still change.

I’m not listening. Not heeding that voice. It is the voice of the past. The voice of millennia of women being told they can’t, they musn’t, they shouldn’t, they don’t dare.

I dare.

Yesterday, I painted a face.

Her origins are a mystery. Her story is not.

She is every woman before me who was told she couldn’t.

She is every woman who was shut down, put in her place, pushed into dark alleys and corners, hidden from the light, hidden from the truth of her power, her beauty, her strength, her courage.

She is every woman who was told she had no power, no voice, no right.

She is every woman who was held captive to the lie she had to be perfect. That she would never be enough. The voice that still whispers from the dark roots of the past, “You can’t do that.”

They said, “You can’t do that.”

The wise woman within rose up and shouted to the winds and the seas, the stars and moon, to heaven and earth, “Watch me!”

________________________________________________

Today is “Bell Let’s Talk Day“.

Speaking up about mental health is important. Taking action is vital. Erasing stigma. Changing minds. Providing supports and help for those whose mental health is preventing them from living joyful and productive lives is imperative for everyone.

Changing the story of how we view mental health changes how we treat each other, how we build strong and healthy relationships and how we create a better world.

For women, our mental health is tethered to a past where we had no voice, no rights, no power. A past where we lived under the shadow of men and the laws and societal mores that were designed to create a ‘just and fair’ society and that ultimately were tools to keep us in our place.

There is no place in the shadows for freedom, self-efficacy, self-determination, equality, self-hood.

Cutting the ties that bind is an important act, not of rebellion but of freedom.

May we all be free to speak up. May we all know we have the power to take positive action to be actively engaged in creating a world where everyone has a place to belong, no matter the state of their gender, race, sexual orientation, faith, beliefs and economic, mental or physical state of being.

Art and creativity, finding joy, possibility thinking, The Creative Journey

Thank You Bob Dylan

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Sometimes, when I dance with the muse my moves are very focused.

Sometimes, they’re a sea of motion, visuals, words, ideas streaming together to create a dance of all the elements crashing into one another, like the waves crashing into the shore.

It was those words that I wrote in my journal yesterday that inspired my studio time later in the day. That and a monoprinted sheet I’d created a few weeks ago with images of clocks and birds that I’d turned into a mini-art journal. At the time, I remember thinking of my dad who’s favourite quote from The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam was always,

The Bird of Time has but a little way
To fly --- and Lo! the Bird is on the Wing.

That quote, and my own musings of time passing and life moving ever onward as well as one of my favourite folk/protest songs from ‘way back when’  inspired the story below. (Thank you Bob Dylan)

I am grateful for the muse and her ever-constant presence connecting me to my creative essence inviting me to soar with the wind and dance with abandon on the sands of time.

Blowin’ In The Wind

Time called out to the wind as it blew past,
“Take me away with you to far off places where I can forget who I am as I while away my days watching waves crash against the shore where seagulls dive from the sky and lovers dance oblivious to the sands of time passing by.”

 

Capricious and free, the wind swept up time and kept blowing, faster and faster as the hands of time kept spinning in delight of the wind’s breath fresh against its face.

Caught up in the wind,
Time kept passing
And as it passed it gathered stories
of far off places and tucked them deep into memory’s pockets
sewn into the great divide that stretched across the horizon
in every direction at the edge of day turning into night.

With its memories safely tucked away for a rainy day in the deep pockets of the horizon filled with time blowin’ in the wind, the world kept spinning as the hands of time kept turning.

In time, it came to pass that the wind grew weary and stopped to catch its breath on the shores where waves crashed and seagulls dived and lovers danced oblivious to the sands of time passing by.

Caught up in the joy of blowin’ in the wind and the who it was it could not forget, time could not stop. Without missing a beat time kept on passing by as the world kept spinning around the sun and the moon kept rising to greet the dark and the waves kept crashing as time passed by.

Art and creativity, Essential Journey, finding joy, Retirement and Rejuvenation, The Creative Journey

The beauty of daily routine

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I like the familiar. The well-worn path. The knowing of what to do next, of what is coming next, of what is on my path.

Which is why I like my morning routine.

From Where I Sit

I awaken (later than I used to which is getting to be quite lovely). I pet Beaumont for awhile (it’s hard not to, he jumps up on the bed as soon as he hears me move and lays on my stomach). I get up. Take him out for a short wander. Sit in the quiet of the morning. Meditate. Make a latte. Sit down at my computer and begin to write.

Some mornings, like today, I take a couple of photos of my world. Sometimes, it’s because I think they may go with what I write. Sometimes, it’s just because.

I’m okay with it all.

In the presence of my morning rituals, I find my pace, my rhythm, myself.

This morning, I am adding back a step in my morning ritual that I had begun before I left for the west Coast — writing my 3 pages.

I left my 3 pages journal at my daughter’s — I’d intended to keep up the practice while I was away but found myself diving headfirst into my days as my grandson rises early and I love the early morning hours with him — and the morning hours are my preferred writing time.

And the river flows

Though, with my arising time getting later, that may change too. Perhaps it is in my “Sage-ing” time is becoming less the measurement of how I spend my days.

I am also falling in love with the word and concept of “Sage-ing”. Yesterday, I signed up for an online course with Spirituality and Practice — Infusing Your Life with Creativity. The course is presented by two Elders of Sage-ing International and while my life is fairly infused with creativity, the reminder to slow down, to consciously move through my day with a creative frame is important. Plus, I love to learn new things and there’s always something to learn about being a creative and its many joys.

Which all means, I’ll be adding the coursework to my morning routine. What fun!

And today, I begin the process of clearing out the back room where all my art supplies and paraphenalia are stored, in ernest. Not a small task but cloudy skies and a keen desire to create order and make space for renewed creativity and unknown possibilities are spurring me on.

As I cleanse and clear, unpack and sort, I shall carry with me the word that I pulled from my Shell of Plenty which sits on my desk, “Joy.”

To do all things with a Joyful Heart is a beautiful gift I bestow upon myself today.

May you find joy in all things today as well.

Namaste.

The Creative Journey

South Calgary Art Show and Sale

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Participating in an art show is more than just creating a bunch of paintings and then, selling some (she adds hopefully).

Because it’s about more than just the ‘selling’.

It’s about creating an experience that I like being involved within, and hopefully, in that experience, those who view my art, will also feel some of the essence of who I am when they look at, and (hopefully she adds again) purchase something.

This week I have collected, collated, assessed and determined.

I have framed and dusted off. Created tags and stories to go with the art. I have written my artist statement, both my personal statement and my statement for the #ShePersisted series that will be on display at the show. I’ve ordered business cards and cards of eight of the paintings from the series. I’ve also ordered 3 gicleé and 3 prints of some of them to show people what they would look like as a finished product — if they want to own one or two, or maybe even three (or more she adds again, hopefully) from the series.

When I was in the print shop to check the proofs for the cards, (Petro-Tech Printing is amazing! Thank you Jim and Evan) Jim mentioned a woman was in yesterday picking up her pieces as they were looking over the proofs of mine on the front counter. She was fascinated by the cards.

I think that is what has resonated so deeply within me, and what I hope within others about this series. The images and messages strike a chord within all of us. Like a harp string plucked in a room full of harps that causes all the harps around it to quiver in melodic response, this series quivers deep within our hearts. It is a recognition of our shared yearning for equality, freedom, dignity, hope, justice, respect. That yearning, and need, lives within each of us, women and men, alike.

Each painting is a story of our shared human condition — and the limiting beliefs we each experience that inhibit us from expressing it freely, completely, whole-heartedly. It is an expression of the divine feminine, and an acknowledgement that we can no longer suppress it, pervert it, contort it, deny it, ignore it. We need it to come fully alive if we are to create better in our world for everyone.

I am in an art show all weekend. I am grateful. I am joyful. I am blessed.

I hope if you’re in or around Calgary you can take a moment to drop by and visit. And honest, it’s not about whether you purchase a painting to take home and treasure. It’s about coming out to share your light, your spirit, your appreciation of all the talents of the artists collected in the room who have had the courage to listen to their muse and create for the pure joy of creation.

Because ultimately, whether I sell a single piece (though it would be lovely, she adds hopefully — plus C.C is a little worried about our ever diminishing wall space) 🙂 the joy of creation makes my life a wonderful place for me to live and it definitely makes me a more heart-driven, joyful and grateful human being!

Namaste.

To view my Artist Statement click HERE.

 

 

Essential Journey, The Creative Journey

The ocean refuses no river.

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river copy

 

The ocean refuses no river.
The river refuses no life.
Life refuses no spirit.
Spirit refuses no Love.

I’ve started a Christmas project for my beloved which means, that when I awoke at 4am and could not get back to sleep, I slipped into the office and began working on my project.

Which also means, I became immersed in the creative spirit and didn’t notice the time!

Imagine! I’ve been at my laptop for 2 and a half hours and I haven’t even had a coffee yet.

And now, we break for a musical interlude while Louise goes makes herself a latte.

I’m back with eggnog latte in hand and words flowing.

The first line of Ocean by Mirabai Ceiba is, The ocean refuses no river.

Just as the ocean refuses no river, the Muse refuses no offering.

We are all creative.

No matter your belief, or colour of skin or size of your bank account or education, there is a sacred place within each of us that is our creative core. It is a sacred chant singing within us of our unique beauty, wonder, brilliance. In your sacred chant singing of your uniqueness is the creative expression of you rising up, just as it rises up within all of us, calling out to our hearts to dance free, to spin about and laugh and turn cartwheels. To sit in silence and dream. To leap for joy and be.

The ocean refuses no river and the river refuses no life. And in that knowing is the truth — The sacred knowing that this life, this beauty, this brilliance is mine, and yours and each of ours to live as best we can, as best we allow, as best we do in Love.

No matter how small, how big, how rusty or difficult, how tired or weary, how young or old, the ocean refuses no river.

In the river’s flow, the open heart refuses no Love. The open mind no knowing.

And life refuses no body, not me or you or him or her or them.

In that acceptance, in that awareness is the knowing, deep and profound and healing. We are not alone. We are one with life flowing in the ocean of Love that is in, around and of us. Each and every one of us.

The river, and the universe, refuses no life.

I started a special project for my beloved’s Christmas gift this morning and became lost in the wonder and awe of creating, of allowing ideas to flow, wonder to arise and the Muse to have full reign over my being present, aware, alive.

It feels great to be alive this morning. Great to breathe. To sit in silent contemplation. To be in awe. To be creating.

The Muse refuses no offering and the universe refuses no life for every life is a unique expression of Love.

What a blissful knowing to carry me into my day.

Namaste.

 

 

Essential Journey, Marriage, The Creative Journey

Life is a work in progress

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Art Journal Feb 21, 2015
Art Journal
Feb 21, 2015

Val Boyko writes beautiful and enriching words on living life in the balance of all things at her blog, Find your Middle Ground. Last week she shared a delightful acronym for the word STOP in her post, STOP and Find Balance.

STOP in Val’s words is a good reminder to,

S = Stop for a moment…

T = Take a full deep breath…

O = Observe… What am I aware of right now? … What is alive in me? Can I be with it whatever is coming up right now.

P = Proceed… What do I choose to do now that I have stepped back and been an observer of myself. The options are many…

I don’t work Fridays. By design my work-week is four days. As I’ve got so much to do right now, however, taking Friday’s off is not my choice.

Which means, I need to STOP more often to find myself amidst all the lovely things on my plate because, no matter how lovely the things, I can get lost in the busy-ness of it all.

C.C. plays hockey Friday afternoons and afterwards was watching the NHL game with team mates. When I got home I had the house to myself and in the quiet of it all found myself immersed in the joy of creation in my studio.

Saturday, I had intended to work on the final proof of the report we need to have printed this week, but I didn’t have the final version back yet, so let my plans go. I spent a bit of time cleaning up some work I needed to do and then, once finished, slipped back down to the studio to keep playing.

Yesterday, still no final proof and a great opportunity to keep creating.

But, rather than paint, I worked on the brooch bouquet I’m creating for our wedding. If you’ve never seen a brooch bouquet, check out Pinterest ideas. They’re stunningly beautiful and as in the case of my bouquet, have meaning. Some of the brooches I’m using were contributed by family and friends. There’s an elephant my sister gave me years ago, one from my father’s sister, another from the wonderful Kerry Parsons who will be officiating at our wedding.

I’d started working on the bouquet after Christmas and was stalled in that space of chaos in the middle of creation — the not finished project hasn’t had enough space to breathe and my head wants to tell me to give up. It is quite time-consuming as each brooch needs to have two wire stems affixed and spun together to create enough stability to hold their place in the bouquet.

Brooch Bouquet -- A work in Progress
Brooch Bouquet —
A work in Progress

The process is meditative. As I worked, I felt myself settling into the rhythm of creation, and even though I was watching “Romancing the Stone” 🙂 on Netflix, I found myself slowing down, I felt my breathing deepen, my heartbeat quiet.

I listened deeply to my heart yesterday. As I wired and spun and worked to create a thing of beauty to carry on our wedding day, I rejoiced in the wonder and awe of walking in love. As I carefully constructed the bouquet, I cherished the memories of each piece of jewelry and savoured the essence of the person who gave it to me and the gift of carrying them in my heart, and hands, today and every day.

It still needs some work to find its balance, some added space fillers to find its symmetry. But I’m happy. It is, like all things creative, a work in progress.

 

 

The Creative Journey

Isn’t that fascinating!

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Sky hangs heavy
like a dream unbidden
tears fall silent in the night

photo (75)I have been working on a new art journal based on the 10 Things I would tell my 13 year old self post I wrote last week. Last night, I messed up.  I know. I know. Unbelievable! Inconceivable. But it’s true. I did. Mess up. 🙂

I came home from the office with good intentions. A couple of hours in the studio. A late yin yoga class. Bed by 10:30.

I missed the yoga class. Became so engrossed in creation, time passed unnoticed. That’s not at all a bad thing, other than I didn’t give my body the attention it deserves.  Dang. How easy it is to lose that  balance thingie when I become singular in my attention.

The real mess up, though, came in my creating.

I overworked a page.

Took it over the edge of what pleased me into that place where I kept hemming and hawing about what to do to bring it back into balance.

I didn’t really want to go back in and rework it and I definitely didn’t want to paint it over or throw it out. I actually didn’t even want to not like it, but I didn’t like it, and I couldn’t ignore my feelings nor my thoughts no matter how hard I was trying to pretend it was ok.

My gut speaks loud in those instances where I am attempting to accept the unacceptable and make it ok.

I didn’t always listen to my gut. Now I do.

I painted over the page I was working on and let it dry.

It is one of the greatest lessons in painting, and life, that I hold true.

If you don’t like it, paint over it.

Painting over it doesn’t mean I have to get rid of everything I’ve done already. It just means, creating a clean slate while allowing some of what was there to show through, to be part of the underpainting of what is happening now.

Yesterday, Val at Find Your Middle Ground wrote,

We are still weaving our tapestry of life.
We can repair and recreate into our own unique design.
Nothing is really lost. Be kind and careful with your tapestry.
Have faith that you can bring new life to it.

We are always weaving into our life, threading moments that inspire and moments that conspire to pull us out of the light. It is in our capacity to find the value in each moment and thread that through our needle that creates the difference between a life lived as a daily grind, or a life expressed through moments that take each breath away.

Last night, as I sat in my big comfy chair that sits in the corner of the studio and wrote in my journal, I thought about what was the value of overworking that page and found myself laughing at myself. As Benjamin Zander exclaims when he’s done something that is totally not what he intended, “Isn’t that fascinating!”

I was fascinated last night by my capacity to let go of being in the moment, going with the flow and trusting in the process.

In my forgetfulness, I became rigid in my thinking that I knew what I was doing. In thinking I ‘knew’, I didn’t allow space for my intuition, my creative muse, my source to guide me.

See, the reason the page went over the edge is because I wasn’t paying attention to being in the creative process. I was paying attention to the act of creating. That space where me, myself and I, compel me to get busy doing the act of creating and not be One with the art of creating.

In that space of pushing and pulling and wanting to make it happen, my need for perfection, my need to ‘make it look smart’, make it appear clever, overtook my soul’s desire to simply be present and flow with the process.

In each of our tapestries there are moments of wonder and awe and moments of’ “really? what was I thinking?”. Finding the value in all things, allows us to thread our needle with purpose and allow the design of our tapestry to be a unique expression of our lives.

Last night, I found wisdom in stepping back and allowing myself the grace of painting over. And, I was reminded that my ego (aka The Critter) likes to jump into the foray when I am least expecting him. Who knew the critter could paint? I wonder if I should tell him he can’t, or simply let him live with his delusions as I paint over the messes he creates and exclaim, “Wow Mr. Critter. Isn’t that fascinating!”