Completed Dog Portrait: Numero Uno.

Ladies and gentlemen, meet Russell, the lovable subject of my very first ever dog portrait. I can't even tell you how badly I want to give him a treat right now! ;)

I'm a couple days behind schedule due to a mystery illness that slowed me down the past few days, but I'm finally starting to feel better. Actually, interestingly, I feel better every time I get myself down to the studio and start painting. Or perhaps by painting I'm able to quit thinking about how miserable I've been feeling? Either way, I've decided that painting is good medicine and am going to make a point of spending time with paint brush and canvas on a daily basis (not that I have a choice if I hope to be ready for March!).

Last week I worked on Jamie's assignment (for Circe's Circle) to think about how I can gain an audience for my work. Since I was naturally gravitating to these sorts of thoughts anyway, I very happily and with great energy made a list of the things I could do to turn my pet portraits into a reliable source of income--because this, my friends, is my ultimate intention.

I got hung up on the idea that I couldn't really act on any of the things on my list until I had a website built. I could barely wait to get started, but when Jamie asked me what on that list I could do RIGHT NOW, I sort of stammered an "uh...I don't know. I think I should just paint." But the question continued to naggle at me and has caused me to think about it all week long. And so I went back and made another list. These are the things I realized that I can do right now:

• Create and order business cards (almost done).
• Create and order postcards.
  
• Contact our neighborhood newspaper and ask them to include an announcement for my upcoming show in March.
• Do a mock-up for my web site. I mean, duh, it doesn't happen over night! Why was I thinking I should wait? (in progess.)
  
• While I'm waiting to get the "real" site up and running, I could create a page with basic contact information.
• Make fliers and at least get ready to hang them up around the city.

Yeah, so that's a good start. Tonight I'll hopefully finish painting "Louis" and tomorrow I'll begin paintings number 3 and 4. These paintings, by the way, are quite large and even though they take a considerable amount of time to paint, I can't even tell you how much fun I'm having!

I'm even going to admit something: I've quit looking for another job. Yes, it's true. I have hereby taken a leap of faith and am putting my absolute belief in the universe that I will make a living doing artwork and web design. There's a little part of me that's afraid I might fail myself. But there's a bigger part of me that feels like I'll fail myself even more if I don't give this a shot. I've also started thinking about when I'll know it's the right time to start painting full time. When I get enough commissions to support me for 3 months? Or maybe 6 months?

Did I mention that I'm planning on advertising in Bark magazine and Modern Dog? Oh, I love those magazines. I've been saving my money for a color ad in both. And, you know, I feel like I've started running and the only thing I'm waiting for is the gate to OPEN! Wahooooooooooooo!

I'm doing my best to live fearlessly and confidently. I'm investing my whole self and, truth be told, I couldn't be happier. You know that moment just before you jump into a cold lake? Yeah, that's the moment I feel like I'm in right now. And you know what? The only thing I want to do is

JUMP!!!!!

Wish me luck. ;)

New Post

I've decided to invite the sacred back into my life by lighting a stick of sunrise incense every morning. It amazes me how such a simple action can open up such a wonderfully vast space of intention and breath within me--and I like starting my day in this way. Perhaps part of this pleasure comes from the fact that the incense's name, "sunrise," reminds me of the time I spent studying yoga in an ashram in India. It was a very quiet and introspective time for me. It was also a time of significant growth. We woke early to the clear sound of a bell ringing through the dark morning air. Wrapped in woolen shawls, we met in the temple where, for two hours, we concentrated on our breath and movements. Meanwhile, the sun rose over the Ganges River and, when we returned to the world outside, we were greeted, every day, with the soft pinks and oranges of another Indian day. That time of my life is infused with the scent of incense--and if you've ever been to India, then you probably know what I mean.

Traveling through India was a very important and sacred time in my life. Now, ten years later, I sense myself entering yet another sacred time. Lighting a stick of incense and, this morning, even a candle, is my way of honoring this time and welcoming the change that it is sure to bring.

I notice that, when I don't post on a regular basis, I have a hard time knowing where to begin. Maybe I need to get back to posting here every day, but lately I have been so busy painting and working on websites that there just hasn't been time. Sometimes I wish I could just hook my brain up to this thing so that Blogger could catch my thoughts as they come and, in this way, I could share them with you.

When I started blogging, I did it simply to write. Blogging was a new and exciting space because it was so anonymous and public all at the same time. These days, however, I find myself wanting to blog for two reasons. Reason One: to untangle my thoughts (writing in a public space has a way of helping me to clarify myself--if even for my own sake) and Reason Two: to share my thoughts and stay current with you, my friends and fellow bloggers. I like the transformation that blogging has taken for me. But I often find it difficult to know where to begin.

And so, to keep this post from stretching into infinity, here are some random tidbits about where I'm at, in this moment, today:

• I'm going to spend several hours this morning painting. I'm currently working simultaneously on two dog portraits ("Louis" and "Russel"). My goal is to have both of them completed and another one ("Chester") started by January 31st. This will require a great amount of focus--which I (amazingly) feel very capable of. I am looking forward to posting images of my paintings as I complete them. Hopefully I'll have the first two up in the next couple of days. I have to admit that, as I paint, I get very excited to show you what I'm working on! :)
• I'm meeting a friend for coffee and conversation this afternoon. Perfect timing to take a break, get refreshed and be inspired by good company. Afterwards I'll come back home and (yes, you guessed it) paint!
• My husband is on a business trip this week and, although I love him and miss him, it feels absolutely incredible to have this time to myself. I feel like I'm on a creative retreat and I didn't even have to leave home! I'm using this time to really saturate myself in my current painting projects. These three days feel, oddly, like a gift. Last night I stayed up until 1am working on one of the paintings. That is, I painted until Louis (my dog) demanded that I come to bed. I slept well.
• I bought a very beautiful card for my aunt. It is blank inside. I'm going to sit down and write her a letter so that she knows that I love her, that I'm thinking about her, and that I'll do anything for her. The card is still sitting in the cellophane packaging because I don't know how, exactly, to say the things I want to say. I have a heavy heart because I know that time is, truly, of the essence. I'm deeply afraid of missing my chance to say these things. And this is one of the reasons the card is so hard to write.
• Last night was our second "telephone conference" for Circe's Circle. I cannot even tell you how incredible this experience has already been. I feel so incredibly inspired and supported by these lovely women. And it absolutely floors me just how perfect the timing has been for this. I can't help but think that, this time around, the Universe has truly conspired to help me out. Either that, or I finally started taking the necessary actions needed to help myself. Actually, I believe that it is an even combination of the two.
• I'm reading Organizing for the Spirit, by Sunny Schlenger (from Leah's book list) and am loving it. This book really deserves a post of its own.
• Vinny and I have been getting random web design inquiries all week. Hurray! :) These sorts of things add a needed sense of belief in ourselves, our goals, our dreams!
• These days, I feel very much as though I am working from my center. Last night I did a creative exercize over the phone for Circe's Circle, led by Jamie. In the end we were asked to write down words and then branch those words out into other words. I wrote words such as: beautiful unknown. mystery, artful, love, special desire, freedom, happiness, breath, sky, loving, free, heart, meaningful. And, yes, I truly feel as though these words are a reflection of where I'm at right now. It is an amazing feeling.
• Gotta go. It's time to paint! ;)

ps.
Patry Franci's, The Liar's Diary has been released in paperback today. Have you gotten a copy of it yet? If not then GO! RUN! Go get it now! :) You can read about The Liar's Diary Blog Day here. Congratulations and best wishes, Patry!! :)

Intentional decadence.

I woke up early this morning feeling exhausted, feverish, and generally horrible. I’ve made something of a rule for myself not to blog about the monthly ailments of being female but, my god, in the last couple years, every passing month seems to exaggerate my symptoms to an unreasonable degree. Even my bones hurt. And my brain…what brain? Surely, one must respect the power of hormones. If ever I felt connected to the gravitational rhythms of salt water, it is today. Earth, moon, oceanic rhythms, be damned. It’s funny (not really) how we romanticize such discomfort and pain.

But I digress. Even though I woke up feeling like I’ve been run over by a truck and kept awake for a week, I would prefer to write about the necessity for decadence.

Decadence. I like that word (the pleasurable variety, that is). I like it as much as voluptuous. Or passion. Or like any of the words that round themselves into seductive, shapely sounds. Alone at work, I can whisper these words to the plants. Their tender ears and roots soak in this affectionate vibration and if I pay close enough attention I’m able to envision their leaves growing generously plump. A bromeliad whispers back, “You can make any word sound seductive if you say it a certain way.” We wink at one another before I move on to the cactuses, the ivies, and the succulents. It should surprise no one that succulents are also well-versed in the syllables of sexy sounds.

Oh my god. Do you see? I no longer have control over my mind! In reality, I have not gotten up to talk to any of the plants. They are most likely thirsty and definitely lonely. My ability to space out and follow a train of thoughts into oblivion is spectacular. Turning those thoughts into a sensible string of words, however, is another thing entirely.

Today I feel weepy and wonderful all at the same time. I feel comfortably contained and yet I am reaching. Every thought, every word, sound, color, and texture feels like more than it is. Heavy, feathery. Palpable, ethereal. Possible, impossible. Yearning, full. Life perceived in opposites. Sometimes it’s best to ride these waves without expectation, to just take a step back from oneself and simply observe. Observations should be treated as nothing more than mild amusements.

And so I allow decadence into my life by drinking fine French coffee from a fragile cup patterned in a ribbon of Rococo gold. I set the cup in the morning sun to intensify its shine.

I peek inside the closed petals of a bright yellow tulip and find a white star at its center.

I accept my second art commission of the week and allow myself to dream big, beautiful, colorful art-filled dreams.

I eat a wonderfully warm and comforting lunch without feeling guilty, for which my body thanks me.

I wear my softest sweater and most comfortable jeans. I look out the window and let my thoughts drift into the gray sky of an endless winter.

Today my heart feels both heavy and hopeful. I found out two days ago that my aunt, whom I love dearly, has been diagnosed with a rare form Leukemia and a very serious bone marrow disease. I am scared for her and at the same time feeling every single sacred cell of life in me and around me.

Mostly, I feel like a cup that, too full, is about to spill over.

Days like today require intentional decadence. And these flowers? They are for you. Sometimes, I think, we all need a little extra decadence.

Namaste,
j.

painting in oil.

I have paint under my fingernails and I like the way it looks, grungy and all. Something wonderful has happened and I can't quite seem to put words to the sensation that it has created. I started oil painting again for the first time in a year and half. How, I ask myself, did so much time pass? Sure, I've painted plenty in that time, but switched to acrylics after moving to the city because they dry fast, are easy to work with, and easy to clean up.

Late Friday night, after prompting from Vinny, I headed down to my studio. I decided to work on the background of Louis' portrait and so I got out my tubes of paint, my long neglected bristle brushes, a palette knife--and started mixing. Black, white, and a little bit of pthalo blue. What color does that create? Shadowed gray.

Words frustrate me. I can't get them to describe the way the paint moved across the canvas. I can't get them to describe the way the light reflects off of a buttery landscape of brush strokes. I can't get words to describe just how much color there is in such a simple gray. The closest I can come to describing the smell of oil paints are with words such as carnations and chrysanthemums. But perhaps that is only because the scent of carnations and chrysanthemums reside in the same olfactory region of my brain as oil paints. This body chemistry of memory both surprises and delights me. I did, after all, grow up in a flower shop--the sort of place where deep seated memories--wordless memories--are made of smell and color and texture. Or perhaps that is everyone's childhood?

Today and last night and the night before, putting paint brush to canvas, how do I describe it? It wasn't like any of the acrylic paintings I've done in the past year. Dull and pushing. It wasn't like any of the pastel or ink or pencil drawings. Childlike and unsure. It wasn't like anything except painting with oil. I have not felt so deeply comfortable with myself in many months (eighteen, to be exact). And the only way I can describe the feeling is to say:

It feels like coming home.

Finally--after being lost for a long, long time--I know where I am and where I want to go. I find it interesting, these roads we walk to get to where's next.

You make my day!

Finally! I am taking the time to sit down and give a little recognition to some of my favorite bloggers. It feels good to be sitting here. We closed the garden shop 3 hours early today because of the extreme cold. With the wind chill it is something like -23 degrees F (-31 degrees C). Yes, that's cold, even for my winter soul. Did I mention that I work in a UNinsulated converted garage? That's right. No insulation. Not even a little bit. Needless to say, I was having a hard time staying warm today and since I had a total of 1 customer, by 3 pm I decided to call it quits. I was so excited! I mean, I felt like a little kid on days that they announce that school will be let out early. Only difference is that, when I got home, rather than enjoy the blissful peace and warmth of simply being home, I spent the extra time cleaning and then made (a wonderfully warm) dinner of enchiladas and black beans. Actually, it felt good to have the extra time to do these things in such a happy and relaxed state of mind because, seriously, this place needed a little TLC.

Needless to say, at the moment, I am sitting at a clean desk, incense and candles burning, a fresh cup of coffee at my side. Louis is asleep at my feet and Anu is strangely happy under the crystal clear night sky. The warmth of my room against the cold outside makes for an especially nice contrast.

But about those awards. ;) Thank you Vedrana, Jamie, Jenn, Melba, Leah, and Bella for passing this on to me! You are all such powerfully wonderful women and I am so grateful to be inspired by you on a regular basis. Consider yourself added to my list as well! And since now I get to pass on the award... :)

This is seriously tough to decided and so I need to make it absolutely clear that, if I had time, I would give this award to every single blogger that I read and love. And there are quite a lot of them!

Here's the rules:

Give the award to up to 10 people whose blogs bring you happiness and inspiration and make you feel so happy about blogland! Let them know by posting a comment on their blog so that they can pass it on. Beware! You may get the award several times!

And here's just the short version of my list:

Maddie
Kristine
Meg
Tara Dawn
Amber
Fiona
Mardougrrl
Ruby (her blog is password protected. Want to read? If you do, just send me an email and I'll forward it to her.)
Loralee
Olivia

Oh, that's just not fair!!! My list wants to be so much longer than that!!! But, really, I'm working hard on the fine art of time management which means that I can't hang out with my blog all night (UNfortunate!).

But there's one more blogger that I would like to pay a tribute to and that is Bernie Berlin. She is doing incredible work and is inspiring to me in ways that I cannot even begin to explain. That girl is living my dream. Kudos to her! You can watch a video about her rescue efforts here.

Mondo-Beyondo 2008

{click image to read}

I was inspired to create my own "Mondo-Beyondo" list after reading Kristine's list this morning. That girl inspires me beyondo all get out! I made my list today because I was (am!) feeling especially hopeful and excited about things. This week alone, V. and I landed THREE new web design clients! I also managed to apply to FOUR more jobs today. This is good because it usually takes me a ridiculous amount of time to write cover letters. I over-think and over-nitpick everything, but today I kept promising myself that the sooner I got done, the sooner I could head to the art supply store. This, I've decided, is excellent incentive because...

I can't even tell you how excited I am about the 3 new canvases I purchased for the show in March. Not only are they big and odd sized, but they were on SALE! Yes, this pleases me immensely. What pleases me even more is that WORK HAS BEGUN! Oh great glory! It always feels good to get back to painting after such a serious bout of writing. One always clarifies the other and it always feels good to make the switch from writing to painting or the other way around. My life and mind and spirit finally feels spacious enough to move on and I really can't even tell you what an incredible breath of fresh air that is.

Since this is the first time I've ever painted dogs I've decided to start with my own because they are the ones I know best--starting with Louis. So far, I've drawn out an image of him on a 12"x36" canvas. It's long and skinny and perfect for what I'm working with.

This sensation I feel inside of me is, well, wonderful. I mean, I sorta feel like dancing or singing or generally being theatrical--ridiculously so. Louis, on the other hand, just wants to make sure that I don't forget about him. Somewhere along the lines, he has become my constant side-kick. I have never, in my whole life, met a dog with such a tender heart.

Anyway, about this "Mondo-Beyondo" thing, I can't help but hope that this week is just the beginning of something new and wonderful and satisfying. I've witnessed Kristine accomplish some pretty incredible things this past year. I'm hoping that my own Mondo-Beyondo list might help me to accomplish some of my own wildest dreams. ;)

***

I brought this Buddha-dog home a couple months ago in honor of my new business name: Stray Dog Arts. As V. and I struck out into the wild frontier of web design this, I decided, was the calm center that I wanted to begin and continue working from. Strangely enough, Stray Dog Arts has begun to manifest itself in ways that I never expected.

Here's to wishing big and to achieving
MONDO-BEYONDO!!

Cheers!
j.

dog art, rug pulling, and other acts of bravery.

About a week ago, I decided to take the leap and let my art evolve. I have a show coming up in my neighborhood coffee shop in March and, rather than simply continuing the coffee cup series, I've decided to do portraits of my favorite neighborhood dogs.

Dog portraits, you ask?

Remember a few weeks ago when I got interviewed for the article on dog training in the New York Times? Well, it got me thinking. It feels like too long of a story to try and fill in all the blanks due to my lack of blogging, but let me just say: there is SO much to say!

These days I feel two ways:
1). I feel like I am sinking in the quagmire of my own trapped, stupid, intensely boring, mindless, dumb job.
2). I feel an incredible sense of well-being every time I take a step closer to working with animals. That sense of well-being deepens even further when I include a creative element to that work.

As you can imagine, I like the feeling of #2 much better that the first.

In a way, I feel like I am tied to a string that is pulling me forward. It is just a thin string and the only thing that I can imagine that it is attached to is the Universe. You see, I don't believe that anything happens by accident, not really anyway. What I mean is that, throughout my life, a series of events have been unfolding. As they've unfolded, I have responded and reacted in certain ways which led to a continuation of the unfolding in one direction of the other. I also believe that we are all connected--everyone and everything--but let me try to not get off-track.

Through a series of both fortunate and unfortunate events, I feel as though I am being pulled towards animals on some level or another. The magnetism has always been there--but, these past several weeks, it has been making itself all the more obvious.

Sometimes I get stuck in the idea that I should be teaching. That is, after all, why I spent the past 7 years in school. It is also why I spent the 7 years before that traveling around the world, doing whatever it was that I was doing. Now that I'm almost done with my degree the next logical step would be to get a job in my field. Only thing is: I don't want to go back to academia--to either side of the desk--at least not yet. I still want to teach, but not necessarily in the same way that I originally imagined. I find it difficult to give up my own expectations for myself because it has been my absolute passion for as long as I can remember. I suppose it goes without saying that losing such a specific direction has been incredibly disorienting to me, but these days I am starting to find my way out of the fog and am amazed by the vision that I find formulating itself in front of me (this is perhaps something for a future post).

Mardougrrl recently borrowed me a book: Start Where You Are by Pema Chodron. First of all, I should mention that I love the title. Actually, the title and chapter titles are all I really need. My favorite chapter, so far, is titled "Pulling Out the Rug"--because that is exactly how things feel right now.

I admit though, that I really like the way it feels to have the rug pulled out from under me. Things have been stagnant for so long, the rug getting yanked out from my uncomfortable footing is at least something. And so I go tumbling forward into my future. But tumbling doesn't quite feel like the right description because it only started out as a tumble and now I feel like I am being pulled by my little string towards something that makes me feel like I fit, once again, into my body, my skin, my spirit, my life.

Yesterday I took the leap towards the show's theme by asking K. if I could photograph her big, beautiful Golden Retriever, Ceasar. She agreed with enthusiasm. A little bit later, S. showed up with her Wheaten Terrier, Murphy, to say hi and get a few treats. She also met the idea with excitement. A few hours after that, L. showed up with my sweet little friend Russel, an Australian Shepard. He is so photogenic! We both oohed and aahed over the potential. Now that photo shoots have taken place I feel like I've committed myself--and the commitment feels really, really good. It feels, well, right.

Today that little string led me to the window where I saw a dog I've been hoping to run into. Never mind that it had been over a month since I'd last seen it. Never mind that the dog played a huge part in inspiring me to do a show of neighborhood dogs in the first place. I got nervous, intimidated, shy--and started back-pedaling the idea of including that particular dog in the show.

But there was that perfectly golden sunlight hitting everything just right (after a week of nothing but gray clouds and, later, more gray clouds) and there was the dog himself, just sitting there, waiting like the noble being that he is. I stood at the window fighting with myself about whether or not to run across the street and ask permission to do a photo shoot with the dog.

Then I thought of the Be Brave project.
And then I thought of Maddie and her own photographic bravery.
And Fiona who just picked up and moved to Spain.
And Bella Mocha who just started her own Be Brave journey.
And of all the bravery I've already accomplished.
And all of the bravery of everyone combined and...

Why not just go across the street?

And so I did. And I exchanged information with the incredibly friendly girl and her boyfriend who belong to "Bean," the most beautiful Rottweiler/Great Dane mix I have ever met. I took a few photos and made plans to meet up again in the near future to take more.

A few hours later, G. showed up with his Cocker Spaniel, Chester. Again, I exchanged email and phone numbers. And there I have it...in two short days I have gotten some incredible photos of 5 of my most favorite dogs along with an excellent response from their human companions.

So anyway...I've decided to keep reminding myself to be brave. I've decided to let the rug get pulled out from under my feet and to enjoy the adventure that goes with the tumble. I've decided to pay attention to that little string and the places that it pulls me--because every time I do this, good things become of it.

Even though my work-day was yet another crappy, dull, dumb day--I came home feeling a lot more hopeful that I did before. Of rug pulling, Pema Chodron writes: "Having the rug pulled out from under you is a big opportunity to change your fundamental pattern. It's like changing the DNA. One way to pull out your own rug is by just letting go, lightening up, being more gentle, and not making such a big deal" (19).

I notice that when I let go, lighten up, become more gentle, and quit making such a big deal out of everything, things have a tendency to happen. Not only do things happen, but they happen easily, gracefully, naturally.

There's a part of me that is worried that my pet portraits will be tacky and ugly and embarrassing and that they won't reflect my talent as a painter. But then there's this other part of me that feels like this is just the right step in my artistic path--even if that means taking a risk. Something happens when painting portraits--something strange and wonderful and powerful. Through painting it is possible to get to know someone from the inside out. It is in their eyes, in their posture, in even a slight gesture. These things are not noticeable at first, but through the process of artistic recreation, something happens. A relationship forms.

Ceasar, Russel, Murphy, Bean, and Chester--they have already become much more important to me that they could possibly know. Or, perhaps, they do?

This is what happens when bloggers get together:

The past few days I have been graced by the presence of fellow blogger, Ruby (from The Ruby Diaries). Traveling all the way from Texas, it was my absolute pleasure to have her as a guest in our home. Louis and Anu (being wonderful judges of character) fell head over heels (paws) in love with her. I, of course, did too. Louis took full advantage of her dog-heart nature and now he considers her his new best friend. When I came home alone from the airport early yesterday morning, Anu looked at me with disappointed and concerned eyes, like: "But...wha? Where iiis she???" Yes, Ruby captured all of our hearts and I can only hope that she will return someday very, very soon.

In the meantime, I already miss her incredibly!!!

Things I love about Ruby:

• Her voice. It is so soft and comforting. I feel myself relax every time she says: "Heeey, Jessie." Her voice is so soothing and perfectly fits her profession as a psychologist.
• Her big dog-heart. Ruby is as dog-crazy-loving as I am. She has a way with animals that make them immediately fall in love with her. Animals trust her and sense her gentle, playful nature. It is amazing to watch.
• Her thoughtfulness. Ruby is one of the most thoughtful people that I have ever spent time with. Wow, I mean, she was so incredibly appreciative and flexible in such a wonderful way.
• Her blogging name. If I ever have a girl, I might just have to name her Ruby. :)
• Her curiosity. I loved seeing this city I've been calling home through her eyes. She asked lots of questions and, in doing so, enabled me to see things in a new way.
• Her love of food. Ok, I really, really love food. And I can't tell you how much I enjoy hanging out with a kindred-food spirit. I mean, hey, she loves peppers! What more can I say?!
• Her "video-letters." I love her video-letters!
  
• Her blog--because she always seems to write about things that I can absolutely relate to.
• Her absolutely fabulous RUBY-NESS! :) I just love everything about that girl!
  

{Pleeeease come baaaaaack, Ruuuuubyyyyyyyy!! I love ya, dear friend.
j.}

I just finished the "33 Journal" that I made for myself and here it is...ready and waiting to hold all the juicy new beginnings of this 33rd year of my life. My birthday was nearly a month ago and New Years was almost a week ago...still, there is something perfect about the timing of this journal and I look forward to recording my daily journey onto the hodge-podge of paper that I've bound together.





How is it that the month of January is already flying past me at, what feels like, warp speed. Ah well, this time I am not complaining as these past five days have been filled lots of inspired and interesting thoughts.

One thing I've been meaning to blog about is Leah's Creative Every Day 2008. I've been so busy working towards my goals that I keep momentarily forgetting that I decided to join in. But please don't be offended, Leah--because what amazes me the most is the way that creativity has so solidly rooted itself in my day to day life. It happens without me even having to consciously think about it. And that feels really good.

The cool thing about Creative Every Day 2008 is that I feel absolutely no pressure to do anything more than I'm inspired to do. Despite finishing my thesis, it turns out that my life is still busy (ha! Should I be surprised?). But this busy-ness is different. Although writing my thesis was creative, personal, and helped to heal some very deep wounds, it was something that just needed to get done. On one level I was doing it for myself, but on another level it was/is for someone else. It is a hoop to jump. But these days...oh, everything else is so different. My thoughts and endeavors are so full of potential and change. They are so me--as though a culmination of my entire life up until now. These thoughts are thrilling and dramatic and wonderful.

Sometimes I worry that I am setting myself up for failure and that it my ideas are ridiculous and blah, blah, blah... But then there's this other side of me, a much larger side, that is amazed by the way the puzzle pieces of my life are starting to fall into place.

I want to live an authentic life. Note to self: this is what it looks like:






































Photos:
*upper left hand: A wonderful Christmas gift of words and color from a wonderful friend, Mardagourrl
*lower left hand: Time spent my best friend in the whole wild world with her beautiful new baby boy, Elias. I'm smitten. ;)
*upper right hand: New Year's Day spent relaxing in front of the fire with a cup of tea, a good book, and my four-leggeds.

things I want to do:

• drink of cup of tea
• travel to India
  
• read a book from cover to cover
• get a professional massage
• go for a long walk, just Anu and I
• go for a long walk, just Louis and I
• go for a long walk, just me?
• find a new job that I love
• get my dog training certification
• hang out with horses
• work on a painting that's been hanging out in my head
  
• finish the two paintings I've started
• make journals (I'm currently working on two of them)
• start sewing
• travel to France with Vinny
• live in a strange and unexpected location--the desert?
• make snow angels (without worrying if there's dog poop in the yard)
• take a bubble bath and read
• redo my wardrobe
• go out for coffee
• and to a nice French restaurant
• sit in front of the fireplace surrounded by my four-leggeds
• build a unique and artful house in the country
  
• work in my very own studio space with high ceilings and good light
• go skiing
• watch a sunset
• and a sunrise
• go to a ballet
• sit in a tree
• lay in a hammock
• make some chai
• write long letters to my friends
• parachute jump from a plane
• go swimming
  
• eat healthy
• sit back, relax, and breathe deeply
• sit on my old porch and laugh with my friends
• adopt another dog
• stand on my head
• get inspired
• move to Morocco
  

Observance.

I'm observing the darkness of my little writing room, a greyish light struggling its way in through closed blinds. My desk is a mess. I feel the need to clean, but where to go with all of it? Thesis papers, Christmas cards, piles of collected images that I save for web design inspiration (but have yet to use), cards and paintings and an old newspaper, water bottles, coffee cups, plant, pens, candles, lamps, notes, lavender oil, legal tablets, stacks and stacks of books.

There's a dog a my feet and a cat curled up at my side. Rather than go to work today, I would prefer to open up the blinds, clean out this office, and begin again. Always, there is so much that I want to do in this one, short little life. I feel such a sense of spaciousness on the inside, I want my exterior world to reflect that.

Today I breathe deeply and revel in the question: Where to begin?

Sunday Scribbings: "Now and Then" {an Epilogue}

Today is December 31st, 2007. It is still morning and I have just now finished writing my thesis. I don't even know if it is any good, but right now that doesn't matter. What matters is that I got my story down on paper as best I could. What's important is that I print this thing out and send copies to my adviser, then my committee members. After that I will do any necessary editing and formatting. I won't be truly done until the day I pass my defense (assuming I pass it). Still, the hard part is done. I feel like crying...because I feel so wonderfully quiet inside my heart.

Snow falls gently outside my window. It is the first day of something new.

* * * * * * * * * *

Roots and wings--they are such mysterious things.

When I was nineteen, I loaded up my little red pick-up truck and my old dog Japhy and, together, we hit the road. We traveled south through the Ozarks all the way down to to New Orleans, then west through vast amounts of nothingness. We made our "home" down old logging roads, on the tops of mountains, on the edges of lakes and river and, eventually, the ocean. For nearly a year we traveled this way, with no destination in mind. But, every night, upon arriving at a comfortable place to sleep, whatever strange or wonderful place it might be, I would announce to Japhy: "We're home!" And with those words, both of our bodies would relax into our new environment, wherever it was.

Before buying land and building a house, I lived the life of a traveler--and I loved every second of it. Sometimes I traveled alone and sometimes I had companions. I got good at traveling with the contents of my universe strapped to my back. I never felt lonely. And I never felt out of place. How could I know that one day I would buy a piece of land made up of field, woods and swamp? How could I know that I would plant roots so deeply that, upon leaving, I would feel more lost than I ever before? I've been a traveler much of my adult life, but losing my sense of home--my place, my center--was something new to me. Writing this collection of essays is an act of moving forward. It is an act of letting go. And what has become most apparent to me is that it is a process.

A dear friend recently shared these words of Mother Teresa with me: "I have found the paradox that if I love until it hurts, then there is no hurt, only more love." Writing these essays has helped me to realize the importance of this time in my life. I have never hurt so deeply. And I have never loved so much. All of this--the pain, the struggle, the loss of direction--has brought me to here. I don't know where, exactly, my future will lead me. But I do know that I am grateful for ever single step that has led me from then to Now.

Starlings in Winter

Chunky and noisy,
but with stars in their black feathers,
they spring from the telephone wire
and instantly

they are acrobats
in the freezing wind.
And now, in the theater of air,
they swing over buildings,

dipping and rising;
they float like one stippled star,
that opens,
becomes for a moment fragmented,

then closes again;
and you watch
and you try
but simply can't imagine

how they do it
with no articulated instruction, no pause,
only the silent confirmation
that they are this notable thing,

this wheel of many parts, that can rise and spin
over and over again
full of gorgeous life.
Ah, world, what lessons you prepare for us,

even in the leafless winter,
even in the ashy city.
I am thinking now
of grief, and of getting past it;

I feel my boots
trying to leave the ground,
I feel my heart
pumping hard. I want

to think again of dangerous and noble things.
I want to be light and frolicsome.
I want to be improbable beautiful and afraid of nothing,
as though I had wings.

~Mary Oliver (from Owls and Other Fantasies: Poems and Essays).

nevr-dull and other inspirations...

I will be amazed if I survive the month of January. I am fairly self entertaining, but today boredom got the best of me. Garden shop life in these deep winter months is proving to be slower than ever and, by mid-afternoon I was surprised to find myself still standing and not laying across the counter in a puddle of drool.

Seriously. At one point it got so bad that I considered rubbing myself down with a can of NEVR-DULL that I found under the counter next to a pile of dirty rags and goo-gone. Instead, I finished two more essays for my thesis, wrote a letter, dusted, did inventory, called my husband, then my brother, and then my husband again. I read part of a book, shoveled, made lists, took out the garbage, sang bad honky-tonk, and ate way more than I should. I have a feeling that the month of January might prove to be very, very long.

I know, I know...I should be more thankful to have a job that allows me to write letters and read books. But I've found that these things are only good in moderation. Since my boss is hitting the road for the month of January, I've committed myself to holding down the fort until she gets back. My only question: can I survive a whole month of talking to myself?

Yes, too much quiet can be a bad thing. I'm sure there are some mom's out there who might disagree with me, but uh....yeah. I suppose I could treat the time alone as though it were a spiritual retreat of some sort and, if possible, I might just try that. But in the meantime I took my Christmas booty of gift cards and went on a little Barnes and Noble shopping spree tonight. It took nearly an hour to snap out of my flat-line funk, but OH! A few good books finally pulled me back into the world.

{side note:}
*I got this beautiful little Fabriano Artist's Journal from my husband for Christmas
*I signed up for Leah's Creative Every Day 2008
*I decided that journal energy is better than drooling

Before hitting the bookstore, I stopped at the art supply store to pick up some stretcher bars that I had ordered for prints. Yes, my friends,

PRINTS ARE NOW AVAILABLE

on my Etsy! :) While I was there I picked up some fantabulously super pigmented pastels to play with. mmmm, yum--they make my eyes light up every time I look at them!

And at the bookstore I found 2 wonderfully inspiring books:


* * *
The Creative License by Danny Gregory

This one looks like a lot of fun. I looked at it more closely while waiting for our Chinese take-out. I sat there drinking tea and smiling as I flipped through the pages. I love this guy's sense of humor. It totally makes me want to play, be messy, and get inspired.

* * *

* * *
Visual Journaling: Going Deeper than Words by Barbara Ganim and Susan Fox.

This one seems a bit more serious, but I'm really into the idea of working intuitively lately.

* * *




On a bit of a whim, I also picked up Excuse Me, Your LIFE is Waiting:The Astonishing Power of Feelings by Lynn Grabhorn. I don't usually dive this deeply into the Self-Help section, but the title grabbed my attention (yes, this is how I'm feeling these days). I've been slowly reading Ask and It is Given over the past several months and am really getting a lot out of it. Since this book has a similar philosophy, I thought it might be good to give it a chance. I'll let you know if it's any good. ;)

In other news, it seems as though doing horse and dog portraits has found its way into my future. Hopefully it will be more lucrative than the NYT interview--but, hey, I just find it incredibly interesting the way my life keeps presenting me with options and opportunities. Although it requires ample amounts of patience, I'm finding the whole process (well, certain parts of it anyway--ie, the truest parts) to feel very organic and natural.

Despite boredom, I'm looking forward to whatever it is that I seem to be waiting for. When I visualize what it would be like to follow my heart, it feels a lot like this:

*lotus image from here.

persist, dear sister.

Remember the wish box? Well, the last wish I added to it was to finish my thesis by December 31st. Last time I checked that only gives me 4 days left to work on it. I've been fluctuating somewhere between absolute glee and despair. I realize that most of you are probably wondering what the hell is taking me so long to reach the finish line. I often wonder the same thing myself. These past couple of weeks I have entirely let myself off the thesis-hook. I mean, for god's sake, I had enough going on without trying to slog my way through the last anxiety-ridden pages of my thesis. I let myself off the hook for the sake of mental health and, I admit: I am glad that I did.

I should mention that I am taking my wish box seriously. Very seriously. I've dragged this thesis along with me into eternity, but I am sooooooooo NOT willing to carry it with me into the next year. Granted, I'll still have to do some minor editing, formatting, and then DEFEND it...but for some reason, the biggest hurdle seems to be just getting it OUT of my hands and INTO my adviser's hands.

These days I feel a little bit like I did the night before my senior show in art. I was putting the final touches on my last painting when my brain completely melted. It turned out to be one of my best paintings, but my god, at the moment I couldn't tell what it was! It was late at night, I was the only one left in the studio, and there was almost no one left in the department. By some stroke of luck I found the art history professor holed up in his office and made him come down to the studio to do an impromptu critique with me. I honestly could no longer see my work for what it was. Yes, folks, total brain melt. Ok, I haven't quite reached that stage with my thesis, but I feel the brain melt starting to sneak up on me, especially during particular desperate moments like last night (after having worked on my thesis for most of the day). I'm scared that it's all shit. But here's the deal: I WILL NOT GIVE UP!!!

Holy crap, I can't wait to finish this thing. Because when I do, you know what's gonna happen?

EVERYTHING!!!!

Well, that's my firm belief anyway. Blah, blah, blah...but for now I am barely surviving. Funny how barely surviving can feel so heavy and full and...wow. I can't even explain it.

In other news...I did not make the news. Damn. After a second interview I was told that I would be quoted saying: "Jessie (last name goes here), a writer, dreams of training dogs." Or something to that effect. Lame? Yes. But, hell, it's the New York Times!!! I was willing to take what I could get!

It seems I got edited out. And instead of mentioning my fantabulous quote the article instead said something like: "Finding a dog owner nursing daydreams of becoming a trainer has become about as difficult as finding a waiter with a headshot."

Ouch.

And so today I have been licking my NYT wounds and plugging away at my everlasting thesis. But there's one thing you should know about me:

I never give up.

And, yes, you can quote me on that.

Metamorphosis.

I feel like I'm undergoing a serious process of metamorphosis these days. I went to get my hair done yesterday and, for the hell of it, decided to do something different (not to mention, dark hair wasn't really complimenting my lily white skin). Also, I've gone down almost 2 sizes in my clothes. From hauling Christmas trees? I don't know, but this new muscle gain feels good. Today, posting this photo of myself, I'm a little bit shocked by the amount of change that has happened, not only on the outside, but the inside too. Looking at myself right now I am feeling like these changes in my looks are a subconscious reflection the the serious changes within. I can't really explain it, but I am curious as to what sort of butterfly (or moth) might eventually emerge.

Something very exciting has happened this week and it's weird how one little event can cause a whole lot of other thoughts to come tumbling into focus. As you all can probably gather, I've been becoming progressively more unhappy with my work. I am so very ready to move on to the next stage in my life, but instead I keep running into frustrating dead-ends. The other day at work I felt myself spiraling into a horrible bout of negativity (which seems to be happening all too often lately), but rather than go down that road I decided I would sit down with my journal (it was slow at the time) and write down my top 5 dream jobs. For #1 I wrote: "Work with dogs; help them to live better lives." I wrote that first because it is what came to mind first and most strongly--and even though I was looking for something more "serious," I decided to try working intuitively rather than rationally. One thing I know about myself is that dogs make me happiest--so I wrote it down. The next night I dreamed that I got kicked out of class because I couldn't quit laughing. I went to sit outside of the school and, upon doing so, ended up watching a bunch of dog trainers with their dogs. That's when I realized that I didn't have to go back to anything if it didn't make me happy. This huge sense of FREEDOM opened up inside of me and it was like this incredible "ah-ha!" moment. Ok, that was a good dream (I wrote a better version of it here.)...but do you wanna know the kicker??

The very next morning (Wednesday) I got up to check my email and there was a message from a journalist for the New York Times with an interview request for a story on dog trainers. Yes, that's right...the NEW YORK TIMES!!! Ok, I nearly pissed my pants with excitement, but then my wariness over the internet kicked in and so I thought I better check her out and make sure she was legitimate before I called her. OY-YA!! Yes, she was legitimate...and so I called and was interviewed. I was nervous, but overlooked it because, really, how many chances does one get to be interviewed for the NYT?!

Here's the deal, I may or may not make it into her story (and if I do, I want a t-shirt that says "I was quoted in the NYT!!!"), but the important thing is that it set the ball in motion for something that has been tapping on my shoulder for a long time now. The universe has been, as a friend put it, banging me on the head with signs all along while I've been floundering around trying to make sense of my life. Needless to say, I've started checking into the notion of dog training. I've already even inquired into one job and certification. All of a sudden, everything seems so much easier! It's like: DUH!!

I kept seeing myself working in an office somewhere, wearing nice clothes, and perhaps planning/working on creative pursuits. Or maybe I saw myself working in an office doing something to help others figure out/navigate through their life. Maybe these things will actualize themselves in my life also, but I think that the real reason I kept imagining myself in a clean office setting wearing nice clothes is that, somehow, it represented something more respectable that the poor garden shop schlep that I feel like now. This, I see, is definitely the wrong reason to take a certain kind a job--especially if it doesn't really reflect my true self. Taking a job just to satiate my ego feels really, really misguided and, although I want to feel good about myself, I know the ego-road is not the one I want to walk.

One thing that an office job leaves out is my deep need for physical, outdoor activity. Sure, I could do it for awhile, but I'm afraid that it wouldn't be long before it started taking it's toll on me and my creative spirit.

Anyway, there are so many details that I'm leaving out about all the little things that have been leading up to this thought of pursuing a dog training career--but I'll have to save it for another day. All I know is that I feel good. I feel more hopeful. I even feel more beautiful, from the inside. You know, since Wednesday, my heart has had this weird "singing" feeling. Yes, it's weird and I'm sure it sounds cheesy. But I feel exactly like I did in my dream. My heart feels a little bit cracked open.

I don't know what's gonna happen, but whatever it is, it's really starting to shift more quickly now. I can feel it. In the meantime, keep an eye out for me in the New York Times!!!

meditative time, revisited.

I've come to the conclusion that it's absolutely necessary that I treat myself with a little bit of love and kindness these days. I don't mean to sound self-centered, but I get the feeling that, if I don't, I will veer dangerously close to having a melt-down. These days, I suppose it's a common syndrome for many. I'm tempted to whine about how incredibly complicated my familial life has become, but for right now I think it's best if I just set it aside.

Actually, I've come to the conclusion that it would be best for me to set several things aside--at least for the time being. See that photo to the left? That is the cup of tea that I have decided to drink before I have to go to work. Notice that it is not caffeinated. I am taking my cue from the tea's name and have chosen to appreciate a moment of meditative time for myself rather than trying to crash my way through the to-do list that sits to the left of my elbow. The tea tastes good--and it tastes even better because I'm drinking it out of the double-walled Bodum cup that I so frivolously spent some of my birthday money on. I love these cups for their simplicity. They are so clean, uncluttered, and beautiful--I thought I might incorporate some of that into my life, if nothing else, in the form of a cup.

Yesterday I had an early a.m. car appointment for an oil change and maintenance. I'll tell you, I was actually looking foward to it. I was sitting in the lobby with a cup of coffee, totally lost in the pages of my journal and, an hour later, when they came to tell me that my car was ready, I was actually disappointed they had finished so quickly. I said to the woman: "Already?! But this is the most peace I've had in weeks!" We laughed, but honestly, I wish I could have stayed there all day.

One of the things I wrote about was the little piece of paper that I recently stumbled upon. I had written a random thought that read:

The snake taught
me to hold my
chin up and to stand
strong despite extreme
discomfort, fear,
and pain.

I was referring to the snake dream I had at the very beginning of the Be Brave Project and, you know, I had no idea that these words would remain so important to me, even now. Speaking of dreams, I have been having many meaningful dreams lately. By meaningful I mean that they speak directly to the thoughts I've been carrying around inside of me, but have not been able to truly focus on, cope with, or make sense of in my waking life.

Last night I had a dream that I was in school. In the dream I couldn't stop laughing and even though I knew it was rude, I just couldn't stop myself. The teacher asked me, politely, to please leave. I apologized to her on my way out, but was happy to go. In my dream I was at the Catholic school that I went to as a child. I left the cafeteria and found myself in the hallway and then went up the stone steps and outside. I sat around outside for awhile watching some dog trainers with their dogs which is when I realized that I could quit school if I wanted to and not go back. I liked my teacher and I liked school. But I much preferred the feeling of laughter. I felt so much freer the moment I made the decision that I was done and that, by doing so, I was making room for the next step in my life.

There is an easy interpretation to this dream in that, I spent a large chunk of my morning journaling about the idea that "when you allow your connection, you thrive. When you do not allow your connection, you do not thrive" (Ask and It is Given 104). I've been asking myself how I might allow my connection to thrive and the first thought that came to my mind was to quit my job so that I might better work from a place of pure and positive intention rather than unhappiness. Unfortunately, it is time for work and my bills will not allow for a clean slate to manifest itself in exactly that way.

Ok...but I'll have to save the rest of my thoughts for another day. In the meantime, thank you everyone for your comments in my last post. Gah. Some days just suck. But your words definitely had a soothing effect. ;)

blue.

I can't seem to get my act together these days. Or, rather, no matter how together my act is, I can't seem to catch up with myself. I suppose this is true for a lot of us these days. The holidays are busy for everyone.

One thing that I've neglected to write about here on my blog is that my dad is getting remarried next weekend. Next weekend? Wow. I haven't written about it here because I'm quite certain that the internet isn't exactly the space in which to untangle my thoughts on the topic. Needless to say, I haven't really given myself the time that I should to think about it at all. I'm not one to evade my emotions, but when it comes to my relationship with my dad, I'm not even really sure where to start...but, like I said, I just don't feel up to trying to figure it out in front of an audience. You know what I mean?

Anyway, there's this huge event looming ahead and all I know is that I feel like an alien visiting a foreign country--a stranger in a strange land.

I've been absent from my blog these days because I can't seem to write because of this vast and frustrating inability to make sense of anything. I get home from work and running errands and doing the zillion things that need to get done and there's just nothing left of me. Half the things running around in my head aren't exactly blog-friendly (work and family). I try to write in my journal and I think I'd be better off, not writing, but scribbling...which is what I sometimes end up doing.

This is all starting to sound horribly depressing, isn't it. Well, it's not all bad. I mean, my relationship with my dad is mending. I love my dogs. And the sky, lately, has contained a lot of blue. But I'll tell you: I miss long walks. I miss sitting down to correspond with my friends. I miss my paints and words and time to think. I miss those little moments that used to exist in so much abundance--because, these days, I've been barely swimming from one day to the next. Existing, but only on the surface.

Things will get easier, I know they will; but the question is: when?

margin notes

Yesterday was one of those crystalline days when the sky is all sunshine and blue, a day when snow glitters and floats through the air as if from nowhere. I'm sure that there is a scientific explanation for these atmospheric delights, but since I'm unable to explain it (and even if I could) I am quite content with the notion that, once in awhile, it is simply magic that graces my world, sometimes in the form of a perfectly frosted landscape.

wish boxes, new beginnings, and a full heart.

A few weeks ago, Jamie wrote a post about the wish box that she made. Shortly after, Fiona made one too. The idea has been haunting me ever since and so, for my birthday yesterday, I promised to give myself unadulterated time to work on a wish box of my own.

I started my project the night before with a trip to the paper store where I stocked up on enough paper for a few other projects as well (including a new "33 journal"...which I will post photos of once I make it). Oh, delicious PAPER!! I am in love with Paper Gami. I tell you: in LOVE!

I am now 33 years old and, for some reason, this seems like a good, solid number to me. 33 is a balanced number. The edges of a 3 are round and open to possibility. 33 is more alive and spontaneous than 32 (at least, for me). 32 is a nice number. It was a year of healing. 32 included some pretty profound and sometimes painful internal shifting. But 33 has elbows to protect itself. 33 has an element of rebellion built into it. 33 is not too young and not too old. 33 is confident and willing to take chances. 33 has more fun.

Yes, so for my birthday this year I indulged myself heavily in a day of self-care (much to my husband's dismay). 32 was wonderful in many ways, but it sucked in just as many. Let me just say: I'm happy to move on. 32 was a major transition between my old life and the one I am living now. 33, I believe, is going to be the year that I make things happen. And you know what? I am oddly excited about this year. I can't really explain it, but I feel like some really wonderful things are going to start to happen for me.

I felt most alive when I was in my early twenties. I lived my life to the farthest reaches and back again. And, for some reason, I feel like my mid-thirties are going to be a whole new era of aliveness and unexpected adventures.

While working on my wish box I was thinking about what it is that I want it to represent and attract. There were several words that kept repeating through my head.

ROOTED. ABUNDANCE. CALM.

I spent a long time yesterday writing in my journal about where I've been and where I want to go. I'm beginning to see how even the painful bits of the past few years have led me to the precipice of where I am right now. I think the painful parts have, in their own way, made me a better person. It's taught me who I am. And at 33 I feel more solid within myself than I ever have in my entire life. 33 is strong. It's independent, but it's also open-hearted. 33 is a good year to be exactly the type of woman that I want to be.

And thank you for all of your awesome birthday wishes. You, my friends, make my heart feel FULL!

the gift of nothing.

Because tomorrow is my birthday, I've decided to give myself the best gift possible: the gift of nothing (no, not the book--although it is good). That is, the gift of DO nothing. I have a full day planned of:

• staying in my pajamas until at least noon
• enjoying my first cup of coffee buried under a warm pile of blankets and cats and a dog
  
• lighting a fire in the fire place
• eating lots of fruit or nachos or whatever I want
  
• lounging around on the couch for hours on end
  
• reading books and magazines and watching really stupid tv
• going out for either a late brunch or maybe dinner with my husband
• spending as much time as I'd like in the aisles of a book store
• a nice long bout of journal writing
  
• and a whole lot of n o t h i n g ...oh, wondrous NOTHING!

This, I'm finding, is a very difficult thing for me to do. But in order to evade the temptation of productivity (the doom of any and all relaxation), there are rules to my do-nothing day. They are:

• I may NOT feel guilty about doing nothing
• I may NOT feel like I should do something because it needs to get done
• I may NOT cook, clean, or run errands
  
• I may NOT use my time wisely in any way
  
• I may NOT do anything work, thesis, work, or other work related
• I may NOT worry about what time it is
  
• And, once again (because I'm a slow learner), I may NOT feel guilty about doing nothing.

...but I suppose that I should clarify that by "nothing," what I really mean is ANYTHING! Tomorrow I get to do anything I want, but the thing I really want to do the most is enjoy a nice sized dose of nothin' at all.

Want to join me? I cordially invite you to lavish yourself with complete laziness and absolute comfort. Oh, sweet Sunday birthdays! Lazy, lazy, wonderful Sunday.... ;)

selected quotations (and other musings) from Life.

"When you travel towards your objective,
be sure to pay attention to the path.
The path teaches us the best way to arrive
and enriches us while we are traveling along."
~ Paulo Coelho

Having just finished eating an orange, its citrus fragrance reminds me, for some reason, of old school desks or of the crooked little house I briefly rented in my early twenties. In that house I had a turquoise kitchen table, read books on zen, grew an enormous spider plant, and was fond of burning orange scented incense. I worked in a coffee shop, wrote a lot, and liked listening to Elizabeth Cotton sing about freight trains.

I wish I could write everything in color, but maybe I'm saying that because I spent the evening painting in my studio. It's been roughly a month since I last picked up my paint brushes, but a few recent Etsy sales have inspired me to create some new pieces. I lost my momentum with painting when I immersed myself more deeply in writing. Then today, after eating lunch at a wonderful art-filled cafe with M., I found myself overcome with a craving for color.

So I went home and started painting. This time I chose a little bit bigger canvas because last night I rearranged the house to make room for our Christmas tree and now have a big blank spot in the dining room where I used to have a stack of over-sized paintings stacked up against the wall. They have been temporarily banished to basement, but that's ok because now I'm looking forward to hanging something new. I've decided to paint several random sized pieces, hang them in a grouping, and then put them up for sale on my Etsy. Each time one sells I'll make a new one and, in this way, gain a fresh perspective on my art. This process of creation and release makes me think of the Tibetan Buddhist sand mandalas. I want to create a flow of art in my life.

Flow.

That is a word that I would like to incorporate more fully into my life. To be flowing, one must be willing to accept the transitory nature of all things.

Since signing up for Jamie's Circe's Circle a few days ago, I've noticed my energy shift once again towards art-making. I started my Etsy with high ambitions, got distracted and busy with other things and, in the end, became discouraged. However, I've become much more aware of how the energy I put out into the world is met by equal energy. My Etsy sales slowed down, because my energy shifted away from it.

On a creative level, there are three things that are most important for me right now. They are:

1. Writing (finishing my thesis).
2. Painting (for my Etsy).
3. Web Design (freelance).

I also find it important to achieve some financial stability. This doesn't necessarily need to be through creative endeavors, but it does need to be fulfilling and satisfying in a way that allows me enough energy and inspiration at the end of the day in order to pursue my other interests.

Eventually, V. and I want to leave the city. We want forests and stars and room to roam. I can't help but notice how all of my current endeavors and desires are part of the process of working towards that goal (and beyond). The details are a still a mystery to me and there are days when I feel stretched much too thin, but I must admit that the path is quite interesting when I take the time to appreciate it. Maybe someday I'll look back at the way my life was when I was in my early thirties with the same rich sort of pleasure that I get in looking back at my twenties. Note to self: Enjoy... because "the path teaches us the best way to arrive and enriches us while we are traveling along."

*quotation from LIFE, by Paulo Coelho.