Inspiration and procrastination

As you may know, I took an online Klass, "Beginnings", from Sketchbook Skool last year.  (Yes, everything is spelled with a "K"--artists tend to be kreative and kwerky LOL.)

I resisted the temptation to spend $$ on art this month, and postponed a decision to enroll in the new klass until the deadline passed.  But their persistence paid off...for Sketchbook Skool (SBS) and for me.  A couple days late, I started the new klass this week and am re-energized, once again.

There is just no substitute for being in the company of like-minded souls who support our passions, whether that be art, recovery, cooking, or the journey in search of self! 

Here's my first assignment:  hand-lettering a quote that has personal meaning.  Of course, it has bright colors.  They reflect my enthusiasm.

While on the topic of inspiration, music helps fuel my energy as well.  My brother, Roger Migchelbrink, and I shared lots and lots of music back in the day.  One of his "Throwback Thursday" posts on Facebook reminded me of some long-forgotten favorites.  Here's one of them that gave me a jolt of youth and energy yesterday.  Enjoy! 

In My Own Dream - Paul Butterfield

Short post.  Off internet now; must go create something to start my day!

Healing

I have been pretty much sleepless since the new moon.  Not painfully or in dis-ease.  Simply fully awake in the dark winter night.   Today, it was about three in the morning; the waxing crescent moon doesn't even rise until after 9 (I looked it up).  So, I have spent these early morning opportunities quietly, in pursuit of inspiration--reading and watching videos on painting techniques, native/natural ceremonies and healing practices, and looking up healthy veggie recipes.  Spending time in meditation.  Just looking for ways that I can be a little better person today than I was yesterday.

Meditation recently has guided me to learn to acknowledge and face the pain and demons of my past, so that they no longer have so much power to limit my experiences or misdirect my steps.  I have been studying The Untethered Soul --The journey beyond yourself by Michael A. Singer.  He teaches that one's Self, or Soul, is the only the observer of thoughts and emotions.  And that, through sitting in the seat of the Soul, we can live fully conscious in the present, free of the source of fluctuations in our inner energy. 

 

 

 

"Coincidentally" --  I heard from my son in a Facebook message last week, for the first time in months.  We are still trying to know and love and understand each other (he 'found' me just a few years ago, and it has not been a journey without stumbling for either of us). 

 

Today, morning meditative thoughts allowed me to be fully aware that this journey of loss has been my life's single greatest trauma.    Through heavy tears, I was led to this blog article, where the writer describes  "wearing the veil of a birth mother's grief".  

 

What I know in my soul is that up until this moment, I have avoided really feeling the loss of my son for over 45 years.  Before and even after his birth, I had little experience to guide me on what feelings were, or how to express them.  And along the way, I discovered that alcohol and drugs could put the dreaded, painful feelings away for a time.   Although I know (through education) that sharing feelings and allowing your self to experience them is healthy, I don't have much actual personal experience in those practices.   

 

So, just for today, I am going to permit myself to feel all those years of secrets, loss, and grief.  Without blame, without judgment.  Just feeling.

 

I hope that sharing my journey will enhance my healing process; and I hope that it may help you, too.  

 

Peace, out.

MOVEment in a New Year!

Winter days are good for reflection and redirection. And so, I blog.

Creatively, in 2015, I managed to:  use my studio often and make it into the sanctuary every artist needs. My space is my own.  And, it has become a central spot for organizing my thoughts, my time, and my meditations.   Ahhh.

I created and sold some recovery-themed earrings and journals.  I’m still completing some watercolor art for invitations, cards, and art pieces requested by customers.  Add the beginnings of some mentoring, and it has been an interesting year.   

Here are a few of the things I accomplished . . .

 

For this new year: my theme word, "MOVE", means stepping away from my comfort/center and stretching out. Moving toward the Light. Move my butt. Move out of my own way. Move the earth (literally. Digging in the garden.).

I’m looking forward to using the stash of found objects, artisan beads and components I’ve accumulated to create more unique jewelry. Here’s a recent acquisition from another artist’s ‘stash’:

I guess Part of this MOVEment involves seeking guidance and inspiration from others—both in person and on the internet.

One of my favorite muses said on her blog, Myth and Moor: “The paradox inherent in making art, of course, is that it's an act involving both giving and receiving. Like breathing, it requires both, the inhalation and the exhalation. We receive the gift of inspiration (inhale), give it shape and form and pass it on (exhale).”


And so, I will move on today. Healthy breakfast accomplished; cleaning up and caring for my plants, then sitting in my studio finishing a painting. It was drawn, inked, and color-studied yesterday.  Here's a sneak peak: 

Today’s brilliant, but cold, winter sunshine will illuminate my table and my soul.  Have a beautiful, warm winter day!

WHY DO WE SAY ‘PLAYING’ WHEN WE MEAN ‘CREATING’?!

Like other artists and craftspersons, I follow others’ blogs and belong to a bunch of social media groups where we share our work, challenge each other, and generally stay connected with the creative community worldwide.

I am struck by how often we diminish ourselves and the creative process by qualifying our posts by saying “just playing with . . . [color, media, paper, ideas—fill in your own here].”

 

I have come to realize that I am NOT JUST PLAYING.  In fact, I am engaging the Spirit within me.  I am giving expression to feelings, observations, and the impulse of creativity that has lain dormant for such long periods of my life.  I am fighting with letting go of the demons of my past, the voices that told me my work was not good enough, a pastime not worthy of responsible, mature attention.  The belief that art is a frivolous pursuit “just for fun”—the message that child’s PLAYTIME is over, that it’s time to get back to establishing a relationship and a home, making babies, learning a useful/productive/profitable trade, establishing a ‘legitimate’ career.  You name it; the message had been something like, “Put down your crayons, kid.  Playtime is over.”  No wonder I stomped my feet in frustration and resisted for so long.  Sadly, the resistance was mostly futile.

So I suppose that we do find some comfort—even triumph--in allowing ourselves to “play” now.  And, since we earned our money and love to spend it now, we buy tons of art supplies and books and courses and . . . well, we collect and “play” with lots of adult (that is, expensive) art supplies toys.  

To my fellow creators of all things whimsical, beautiful, imaginative, wondrous, colorful, personal, and inspired, I say this:  Let’s banish ‘just playing’ from our thoughts and especially from our posts!  Let’s stop diminishing the creative Spirit within and instead let’s celebrate our world, our uniqueness, our playfulness, our amazing expressions!

Whether great or small, every creative expression deserves our respect; especially by respecting ourselves and the time we spend documenting our observations of the world around us, our inspiration and imagination.  Our ART is a gift we give to ourselves and the world.  Give it proudly and often!

from IndiaMissions, etsy.com

Wednesday Morning Mindfulness

Counseling and administration were never my primary passions.  I dared to attempt to do these things by learning from the people God put in my path.  Art has always been my passion, from the time I was little.  I remember sitting at my special desk, with crayons and papers and coloring books, happily creating away.  But after the early encouragement, I later got the message that I needed to earn a living, and art wouldn’t do that.  I heard, too, that I wasn’t ‘talented enough’.

So I began watching and following other people’s careers.  There were Vivian Golub and Mike Lunine at Kent State; Rick Pogue, Jan Hanson and Jim Schuerger at Cleveland State; Mary Sarosy and Vince Pinto at WRCS; and many others who inspired me to learn counseling.  And I did good things—for the battered women’s coalition, for Lake Geauga Center, for Luceille Fleming and ODADAS, for Mitch Carlisle and Lorain ADAS.  Some doors were closed and my direction changed often.   

I now realize that the end result was that for all those served wherever I went, living in recovery was introduced and sometimes flourished in their hearts.   My path has made a difference!

Yesterday I went to a wonderful, amazing Quilt Show at Lake Metroparks Farmpark with some friends.  As we "oohed" and "aaaahed"  over the amazing creations, Gayle and Rachel told me that I noticed things they never saw in the quilts.  And that made me realize that I do, in fact, see things differently than many people.  I love seeing in the way that I do; expressing what I observe is something I am compelled to do.  And that is joyous!

I am so grateful for the opportunities and gifts I have been given.  For the things that have been taken away (strife, struggles, roadblocks in the paths no longer useful to me).  And for what has been left:  time to be mindful of who and where I am, the people I am surrounded by, and the ability to express the gifts which God has given to me.

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Meditation :  EACH DAY A NEW BEGINNING

“When I slow down long enough to smell the roses, I usually see the beauty and all else that is ours to share.”       --MORGAN JENNINGS

"We overlook so many joys, so many hidden treasures, when we hurry from place to place, person to person, experience to experience, with little attention anywhere. All that matters passes before us now, at this moment. And assuredly, we will not pass this way again.

It has been said the greatest gift we can give one another is rapt attention; additionally, living life fully attentive to the breezes, the colors, the sorrows and the thrills as well, is the most prayerful response any of us can make in this life. Nothing more is asked of us. Nothing less is expected.

We have just this one life to live, and each day is a blessing. Even the trials we shall understand as blessings in the months, the years ahead, as we can see now how the painful moments of the past played their part. Our attitude toward the lessons life has offered makes all the difference in the world.

I WILL LOOK CLOSELY AT EVERYTHING IN MY PATH TODAY.  THE WOMEN AND CHILDREN, THE TREES AND SQUIRRELS, THE SILENT NEIGHBORS.  I WILL NEVER SEE THEM AGAIN AS I SEE THEM TODAY. I WILL BE AT ATTENTION."

When will our legislators LEGISLATE?

This is a political statement; I will get on to the business of creating for the rest of today.  But my outrage at actions of 47 United States Senators who felt compelled to sign a "Letter to Iraq" and speak for us, the 99%, has left me wondering just what our Congress things we elected it to do. 

The following is the e-mail I sent to Ohio Senator Rob Portman.  Just had to express my right as a citizen to inform our elected official how "we the people" want him to carry our his duties.



Dear Senator Portman:

Please re-read your history books and the purpose of the United States Senate.  It was created, I believe, as part of the LEGISLATIVE branch of government.  Not Executive, not Judicial.  Elementary.

Your presumptuous arrogance in speaking to a foreign nation on behalf of our country is not what you were elected to do.  Forty-seven senators does not constitute a majority; neither are you folks empowered to speak on the behalf of this nation.

Get down to the business of working on the behalf of we who elected you.  Attend to our health care, protect our environment, assure that all who live and breathe our air can live without fear of each other, can trust one another, can get the best education possible regardless of our incomes, assure that all who work can earn a living wage, take measures to stop rampant taxation inequities, decrease the violence and crime which burden us with the moral and financial cost of incarceration.  In short, right our internal inequities and attend to the 99%, not the 1%.

Just go about the business of making this a better nation in which we can ALL safely grow and prosper.  SHAME ON YOU, MR. PORTMAN.

By the way, please do not plague me with justifications or unwanted emails, newsletters, or other communications.  Your legislative behavior will speak for itself.

Sunny Saturday: Weekend Wandering

After another week of frigid, bone-chilling, huddle-up-indoors-and-stay-warm weather, the last day of February dawned sunny and bright.  As the morning air temps slowly edged out of the teens, my crazy kitchen thermometer picked up the heat of the sun on the glass like this:

Maybe that window glass captures some ancient sun-wisdom that our winter-weary bodies cannot yet perceive?  Funny how we react to this little dollar-store thing:  it beckons us.  It orders:  "Get out and explore the world around you!"

The Lakota Sioux call the Sun "Wiyo ate" and say "The light of the sun enlightens the entire universe, and as the flames of the sun come to us in the morning, so comes the grace of Wakan Tanka, by which all creatures are enlightened. It is because of this that the four-leggeds and the wingeds always rejoice at the coming of the light. We can all see in the day, and this seeing is sacred for it represents the sight of that real world which we may have through the eye of the heart." Black Elk   [There are lots of animal tracks in the snow, and my feeders and pine trees are alive with singing birds these days!]


The beauty of local farm and nursery fields under the cloudless, electric blue winter sky is  too vast to memorialize on camera.  And parking behind the big piles where plows have been blocks the view of this sketcher and the patience of my hubby.  So we drive on, in silent awe and appreciation of the scenes around us, bathed in beauty and light.  

Locally though, the old stone lion at Broadfield Manor (a country-house-turned-nursing home complex) seemed to be roaring to life.
 

[How about the glow of that stained glass at the front door?!] 

The big stone finials marking the drive were giving up their heavy caps of blizzard-borne snow to the sun as well.  I'm going to try and paint the blue of that sky for today's sketch (as taught by Prashant Miranda) -- it is absolutely breath-taking!

Meanwhile, across County Line Road, a local guy created this ice-castle and its resident monster in brilliant color.   Clearly, he likes to have BIG FUN and amuse his neighbors!

Creation has many interpretations!  What a study in contrasts, from the ancient peoples' understanding of the universe, to the historic structures and stone monuments, to one man's energetic efforts to use the cold, dark winter to amuse himself and us as we pass by.