The Evolution of a Doll, Creating Yourself

 Every day, I feel like I am creating myself. Who I am as a mother, as an artist, as a friend and partner and sister and daughter. Who I am as a thinker and a doer.

It's an evolution not unlike creating... art, crafts, food, novels, business plans, outfits, papers... whatever.

Dolls.

Like this here doll I made my daughter for Christmas.

Here she is, nothing but a sketched out pattern and some upcycled t-shirt material.  I took my scissors to it and cut away everything that she was not.

Leaving her with a basic, disassembled, empty shape.

 In this scene, my doll has been sewn up and filled with stuffing. I've begun to MAKE her, to take the ideas of her and put her into reality, give her form and shape. She's a doll now. Anyone could look at her and say, that's a doll. (Here she's sitting next to another gift, unformed, which turned out to be a pink kitty.)

You see the thing is, nothing we create will ever get to BE anything until we actually start, until we put it through that sewing machine, and take it all the way, see what happens with all that machinery and sharp pointy things and fears of what might go wrong or how the machine might break down (mine did) or how we might forget how to use the mighty machinery (I didn't) or maybe my doll might not look like what I wanted her to look like (she didn't really look like what I imagined at all, she became her own thing.) You just have to do it. Put yourself out there and say, YES, I will do this thing.

Once you have the basic shape of your doll, that's when you can start putting your personality into her. That's when you can start giving her the colors, trying out different ways of making her look. Here, I'm giving a go to see how the different colored felt pieces might make her look, trying out some placements for her cheeks and eyes and lips and hair. This was not the first combination I tried. I held up different colors, cut out many little circles, tried different shapes and sizes. And this was not the first time I'd made this kind of doll face, either, she is just another variation on work that I've already done.

 Here I have committed to my choices. I've gone and pinned them down. Made them real and permanent. There's no more changing my mind on the color of eyes or lips. Again, did she turn out like I thought she would? Not quite. But in the sewing, in the doing, she became her own thing, not just an idea, but a doll. This doll.

 Then I tried some of the stuff I'd never tried before. Always in the past, I'd made hair with yarn or embroidery floss, but this time I knew I wanted to try felt. How would it work? I didn't know. It was an experiment, something new to try, a risk. And I gave it a shot.

 Here she is with face and hair, after all my giving it a go and planning and making my ideas come real and trying out different variations and committing to my choices and stitching it all down and making it real.

She's a doll.

 I like her.

Originally, she was inspired by two things... the scrap fabric I had, aka brown t-shirt, and the vintage doll dress. I made the original pattern so that she would fit into this dress. After that, I allowed myself to be inspired by the various dolls I have seen and loved and by what I had already done with doll making. I mean, this is why you have a daughter, right? To make girly stuff for them?

It doesn't matter that she didn't like the yellow dress on this doll and made me make her a pink dress out of scrap fabric, right?  Or that she'll probably change the scrap pink dress, even though she designed it, and put her in a different vintage doll dress.

What matters is I went all the way in and trusted my abilities and my judgment and gave it a go. What matters is I took it to the end of the journey and didn't give up. What matters is I made it. I thought of it, dreamed it, planned it, trouble shot it, detailed it, put it all together and then put it out into the world, I mean, gave it to a five year old.

Make a doll. Make a craft. Make a painting. Make a novel. Make a home. Make a business. Make a life. Create yourself. Those things are not you, and yet, the making of them makes you.

What are you making?

How To Never Give Up (Except When You Just Give Up)

Below by Rowena Murillo

acrylic on paper.  

5.5"x8.5"

30/100 in 100 days creative project

I give up.

Except I don't.

I have made the decision that nanowrimo is not right for me this year. I'm not going to try to write a 500k word first draft of a novel (good or bad) in the month of November for the first time in seven years. It doesn't mean I am giving up, it just means I am giving up on this.

Because what I need to do in a time like this, a time of transition and responsibility and to do lists that are miles long and feeling like I am underwater, is refocus my goals, not to the short term commitments, or the ones I think I "should" do, but to the serious who-I-really-am-and-what-I-really-want-to-do-with-my-life goals.

Sorry nanowrimo, but rather than writing a new novel that I don't really have a plan for and don't really care that much about and which is not really ready to be written, I have a novel (from nanowrimo 2009) that needs a final rewrite and also needs to go out looking for an agent. 

So I give up on nanowrimo 2012.

But giving up does not mean you give up. 

This is what I'm learning about never giving up, believe me, it isn't easy.

Stand by Rowena Murillo

acrylic and graphite on paper

5.5"x 8.5"

29/100 in 100

Life doesn't always care what your intentions and goals and dreams are. Things go wrong. Other things become more important. You don't get where you thought you would get. People say no. Failure happens. You try and try and try and do everything right and you get nowhere. You mess up and make poor decisions and don't always do the right thing and are imperfect and generally human. Your hopes and expectations are dashed.

This is the point where you can decide to give up. Period.

Maybe that's okay. Maybe it's not the end of the world if you give up on your past dreams and let go of where you thought you'd be and just make peace with who and where you are. Maybe you've grown out of your dreams and find other things more important. Maybe you're holding onto those dreams just because you've always defined yourself by those dreams. Let me tell you, you are actually more than your dreams. And you can always find new dreams. You can refocus and discover new goals and passions. There's nothing wrong with that, because there are a kajillion worthy dreams out there and a bazookillion wasy to reach those dreams. 

So give up. I give you permission. If giving up is what you decide is right for you.

Mom by Rowena Murillo

graphite on paper

5.5"x8.5"

31/100 in 100

If, however, you decide that giving up is just not right for you, if your dreams are too integral to your happiness and you just can't bear to let go of them, then let's figure out this not giving up thing.

So okay, it's been hard. 

Things haven't worked out the way you thought they might. Life took over. You feel your dreams slipping away. And, dammit, you are not going to let them go without a fight. What do you do? What do you do?

Figure out where you are right now. What is working? What is not working? Where are you putting your energy? What is feeding your energy and filling you up? What is draining your energy? What do you need? 

What are the absolute, non negotiable necessities in your life? Make sure you have them.

What are the priorities? What has to come first, no matter what? Put them first.

What fills you with joy? What recharges your batteries? Make room for that. You might have to give up other things in order to do so. Think about what is non essential in your life, or things which are destructive even. You can let go of those, even if it's a habit and hard to let go of.

What drains you or weakens you? Either get rid of that or find a way to fix it. (warning: this might take an investment of time, energy and/or money.) 

This is about evaluating your life for what is working for you and what is not working for you. This is about re-evaluating your dreams and goals and needs and the path that you are on.

  

Incandescent by Rowena Murillo

acrylic on paper
5.5"x 8.5"
32/100 in 100

You need to figure out what are the things that fill you up, the things that give purpose to your life, the things that keep coming back to you, no matter how many detours in life you take. Figure out those things. Make them part of your priorities.

 I'm going to be honest.

I do not speak about giving up and not giving up lightly. This is hard work. It is hard to let go of things you were holding onto. And it is hard work to recommit and dig in and make those dreams work, too. But either way, it's worth it

For me, I've decided that I can give up on the exercise of nanowrimo. But I am not giving up on my writing. I am refocusing on my current novel, I am refocusing on my blogging and other non fiction writing. I am also committing to finish my 100 in 100 days creative project, even though I am a month behind. I'll be posting some artwork heavy blog posts, for a while, as I catch up on 100 days project, both posting things I've already done but not documented and new work.

I'm kind of excited to get back to painting, because for me, painting helps me focus and be creative... and this is what I want to be doing.

You Know The Answer

You Know The Answer

You know you do.

That thing that you know you need to do to make things work out... you just gotta do it. That choice you have to make? That step you have to take? Just do it.

It doesn't how we talk ourselves out of it, how hard we convince ourselves it is, how impossible it might be. My personal favorite excuse is "Oh I'm so tired, I can't." But the truth is, I know what needs to be done. And I can, even if it's hard and I have to break it down into baby steps and accept that results won't appear right away and maybe not even ever, but I still have to do it.

Putting it off doesn't make it better. It doesn't make the task ahead any easier. It doesn't make us happier in the long run (although, we might be filling our procrastination time with things that make us feel good in the moment).

You know the answer.

Yes, that's the answer I'm talking about.

The scary one.

The one that is really what you want, in your deepest of hearts. The one that you know is the truest of true.

The one that you really have to rise to reach, to be the person you know you want to be.

The one that is all about your dreams. All about your soul.

The RIGHT answer.

Do it.

It's In Your Hands (Creating a Creative Practice)

"it's in your hands"

This coming September, when my kids are both in school full time, I am planning to take my creative career more fully in hand.

Truth be told, I've taken a bit of a hiatus.

I've had kid duties and work duties and household duties, and many of my creative duties have fallen by the way side. 

I am looking forward to re-committing to being a serious artist and writer, not just in the off hours when I'm not too exhausted from my long day, or while the kids are playing outside, before they come back in to ask for my attention in 15 minutes.

I'll still be working, and I'll still be taking care of my kids, but there will be more time to focus without distraction or multi tasking or kids every where. I'll be able to focus on my own personal work for at least a couple of hours a day, and for the whole day twice a week! It seems like such a luxury to me now, after all my years of raising infants/babies/toddlers/preschoolers. I am hoping that those years will have taught me how valuable my time is now, and that I shouldn't waste it.

And I'm going to do it.

It's only a few weeks away, but I am starting my process of organizing and planning and psyching myself up and getting the ideas flowing.

I've learned that it helps to psych yourself up before you even start, to plan and set goals for yourself. Like with Nanowrimo. If I think about it months before, I can start dreaming of my story and characters and plots. Then I can do an outline. And I can schedule in work times and write out logs and graphs to keep track of my work.

Really, I should learn from myself and write out my graphs and log books and such. I have plans for reorganizing and prettifying my "studio" which is really more like part of the kitchen, but has turned out to be a good place for me to work in the past, at least part of the time. 

The truth is that being creative is a lot more work than it seems sometimes, because so much goes on under the surface, before creativity happens, while you're staring out the window or in your psyche every minute of the day, even while you're doing other things. 

It often takes more preparation and planning than one would suspect. I often have to almost "go into training"  as I build up my work habits and practice my craft and coax the ideas into being. 

 In one way, this is comforting to me.

Even though I don't feel all that creative right now (particularly after burning out a bit with the craft intensive Harry Potter birthday party) I know that if I take my baby steps, I will soon be ready to get that creative engine going.

In another way, it's kind of exhausting, because I know how much work I have to do and how much I am going to have to commit to the work.

But then, that's exciting too, the idea of being able to commit real time and energy to work after so many years of naptime writing and painting while the kids are watching tv and being satisfied with arts and crafts instead of the larger projects that have been calling to me for the last few years (which I have been putting off.)

I drew this journal entry to remind myself of the work it takes to take your life into your own hands. It often doesn't seem like I am getting anywhere while I am in the middle of the small actions, but when I look back on it, I can see how far I've come and how much I've done.

It reminds me that I have the power to create things, to make life the way I want it, if I am only willing to do the work, commit to the end product, and trust the process.

Oh yes, that trust of the process. It can be very difficult, but it makes a big difference.

Living This Season As It Is

Working with the kids on papier mache Harry Potter wands.

The summer time is in midswing.

The days are long, stretching into the night. The heat is sweltering. School is out and the kids are home and looking for trouble.

In my mind, I think of summer and a time of relaxation, vacation and the opportunity to really get into projects I want to do.

But the reality is that, as the mother of two still young children, there is no vacation for me in summer.  This is not my vacation, but theirs. I am back on duty as a nearly full time stay at home mom. However my job outside of the home isn't lightened during these times, in fact, this is the busy season for us so my hours are a little longer at that, too.

The problem arises here, when my reality does not live up to my expectations. Just like when you go to a movie, expecting it to be AWESOME and it is just "meh." If you had sat down in the theater without those grand expectations, you would have enjoyed the movie, called it "fun" and been pleasantly surprised. But because you believed it should be something more, something other than what it was, you get cranky, and dissatisfied.

So my summer is like a blockbuster movie that failed to live up to my expectations. I thought I would get back to writing, whip my house into shape, shape up that fabulous Harry Potter party for the boy, paint every day, build my etsy shop into a behemoth, keep my kids from the summer slide and create fabulous games and activities for them every day.

Really... there are still only 24 hours in the day, and there was no way my summer could live up to these grand expectations. Especially since with every goal that I did not meet, I got more and more disgruntled, pouty, even.

This is not the fault of my summer.  The summer is what it is. The kids are running wild and watching far too much tv. I am going to work 5 days a week and coming home 3-6 hours later. The pumpkin seeds we planted are a bust. The kids' reading program plans lost steam, slumping along like summer slide fashion. I have far less time to myself as I am waking up later, since the kids don't need to get to school early and the kids are staying up later with the sun, so that means writing is pretty much out. I can do some creative things while the kids are with me, but I can not get the focus together to really write intensely when the girl wants my attention every 5 minutes and I am refereeing sibling fights every other 5 minutes.

OK.

Well the point of all this is that in order to be productive and enjoy the life that we have, we must accept the season that we are living. This season is summer. It is not the summer of my childhood, with endless days stretching out unmarked (or it isn't for me, that's MY kids' summer.) Nor is it the summer of my teaching days, when my hard work during the year was punctuated by glorious days where I could write and paint and really get down to the work that I had to put aside during the work year.

No, this is the busy mom summer I have. To accept it as THIS summer, means I don't expect it to be the lazy summer of my childhood, or the painting/writing summer of my pre-child days. To accept it as THIS summer means I enjoy making crafts with my kids, or staying up late with them, watching favorite movies from my own child hood (that's right, ET, I'm talking to you). It means researching and experimenting with ideas that will create my son's dream Harry Potter party, even if I think I should go even farther and make it even fancier, even though I am not a professional party planner with unlimited resources and dedicated time. Accepting this summer as it is means letting myself be lazy sometimes, and not expecting constant productivity.

Perhaps it also means letting go of the disappointment that I am not in another season, where I can do each and everything on my dream to do list.

The dream to do list is not about reality, see? So why hold onto it? Why not just accept that this is my season, and the best I can do is to make it the best season it can be, to appreciate it for what it is.

What season are you in right now? Are you accepting it for what it is, or are you wishing for some other summer? Some other springtime or autumn?

This Is Your Ticket

I can't promise that it will be easy, in fact, I can promise that it won't be easy, but today, I am telling you that you have permission to follow your dreams and go for that thing that fills your soul with light.

Take that first step. Take the next one, and the one after that. It might be a very long journey. There might be long convoluted detours. You might be delayed. You might pick up travel companions along the way, and you might lose some. You might get weary. You might lose faith in even the existence of that glorious destination. Try anyway.

This is a ticket that says, Yes, you have the right to try for that very hard, very beautiful thing that you have always longed for.

This ticket says your dreams are worth the sacrifice, the hard work, the road less traveled.

Sorry for the dark picture. But in a way, the dark picture is fitting. This ticket was drawn during the middle of the night, because I had to. And the photo was taken in the middle of a thunderstorm, because when the sun was shining, I forgot about what I wanted to do.

Well there's something else for you. Sometimes we need those storms, those shadowed moments, to remember what it is that fills us with light.

So, like I said, you have permission to follow your dreams.

This is your ticket.

Go.

Creating a Mind Map to Plan Your Goals

Goals/Mind Map (Rowena's Planner)

Yesterday, I had this big plan to blog this huge post, but it was so big and, while I had worked on it, I hadn't worked on it enough. In the end, it overwhelmed me, because I didn't break it down enough and I hadn't clearly thought out what I wanted to do with it.

So I didn't end up posting at all.

Today, I thought I'd take a smaller bite out of the apple and actually post about planning goals. 

It can be really easy to let the goals that you really want to accomplish in life get washed away in the flood of every day tasks and responsibilities, but the truth is that you have a responsibility to yourself and to the world  to reach for those big goals, to put in the energy and follow your passion. Even as a mom, when it seems that your needs often come last, you are actually giving to your family when they see you actively working on your goals. When they see you working hard, not giving up, believing in yourself, following through, doing something that is important to you. This is a good example for children to see, and to imagine for themselves. 

But HOW to do this, in this world of baking chicken and bus stop pickups and homework help and baths and etcetera?

One of the first things I do when I am faced with a large task that seems overwhelming in the face of living, is to get a precise handle on the task ahead of me. What exactly do I need to do? Are there things I need to do before I can even get started? How can I break one task down into its various elements? And once I know what those various elements are, can I break them down into smaller steps? 

I like doing a little brainstorm with this mind map/spider web kind of planner. I put my main goal in the center... here, we have "Published Novel," and then in the next ring of bubbles, I write out the things I need to do in order to get to the main goal. Here I have "Organize Writing Space," "Finish 5th Draft," "Polish Opening," "Get Feedback," and "Get An Agent." These are the main tasks I have been thinking about, some of which I feel need to be done first, and some need to come later. But even so, they can be mighty overwhelming. So I made a second ring of bubbles to indicate the tasks that I need to do to accomplish the first tasks. 

Here's one corner of the mind map. Attached to "Finish 5th Draft," I have "Delete Chap 3," "Re-read," and "Complete 5th Pass."  That goal does seem a little redundant, but in actuality, it's a refinement. If you'll notice, I left some space to write notes about each individual goal. When I do my 5th pass of my novel, I'm actually going to be looking for some certain things to edit/revise. I'm thinking I want to tighten the writing, pay attention to consistency of character, and add some fierceness... but I am not sure what I'm going to be looking for exactly, because when I re-read, I will be able to spot the elements that I want to focus on in this revision. This is a plan in progress. There is room for me to fine tune the tasks and goals. There is room to add details.

However. There comes a time when you have to stop planning to take action and simply just take action. Notice that at the top of the planner, I added a bubble: "WRITE." Because when it comes down to it, I have to make sure that breaking my goals down and planning and making lists and planners and all that stuff doesn't take over, and the goal remains the focus. It's not about planning to publish a novel, it's about publishing a novel.

Now this kind of goal setting could be for any large task you set yourself. It could be organizing your house or finding a new job, or writing a paper. Whatever the goal, the key is to break down the large tasks into smaller, achievable goals that no longer seem as overwhelming. And then get started on the newly simplified tasks.

Then it's time to get going.

La Pintura On The Way Back

La Pintura, articulated paper doll.

paper, giclee print, metal brads

Long time no see.

I've been in hiding. Well, not really in hiding so much as in a fallow period. Busy with daily life and silent on the outside. But at the same time, I feel a lot of work has been going on under the surface, even if my forward momentum seems to have stalled.

But the way my life works, I've found this is actually a normal part of the process. Again and again, I've gone through quiet, struggling periods of life, where art is silent and the transformation process is dark and quiet.

It would be easy to get stuck there, to think, "I have creative block," or "I give up," or "I just can't do it, my life is too difficult to allow these goals in." But the truth is, my goals as an artist and a writer are not just something that comes from the outside, they are a part of me. Even when I'm not painting or writing, I still feel that urge, and it gets stronger and stronger until I have to work my way back. Because I am just who this Paper Doll says I am. I am The Painter. And I am The Writer. I am the Artist even if she's quiet sometimes.

So here I am working my way back, trying to find the right steps to take me back to creativity and productivity. That's okay. Remember, this si part of the process. I'm beginning to remember creativity as a choice, a daily choice. I'm beginning to remember myself as the creator, even at the end of the day when I'm exhausted and have been taking care of other people all day long. Part of taking care of myself is creating things.

So.

So then. The baby steps I am taking are towards recommitting to art and writing. I have begun painting again, little things in my journals. I took out my new-used sewing machine for the first time and gave it a whirl. I went back to my old novels and read them over to get ready for a new commitment to nanowrimo.org.

Yes, I'm going to try to write a novel in November, again. I am very worried, to tell the truth. I've met the goals every year for the last five, but this year, my habits are so poor and my mind is so out of writing that I am concerned that I won't be able to get the writing juices flowing and actually sit down at the computer every day.

So I am afraid. And that means I have to do it. Is fear what has been stopping me all along? Am I just using busy-ness and fallow-ness as an excuse for not doing it?

Well, I'm going to try again. I'm going to go for the daily commitment. And I might as well do Art Everyday Month, too. Commit to a daily creative practice and it will come back, I know this. Because for all I've been "The Mom" all this summer and autumn, I really am "The Artist." I am "The Writer." I am "The Painter." It's just who I am, and I am going to find a way to integrate all these parts of me. I just am.

Wish me luck.

I Am Not Lost I Am Just In Camouflage

I Am Not Lost I Am Just In Camouflage

acrylic on paper, moleskine

5x7" 7/12/11

I did this yesterday. Took most of the day to paint and futz around with my art work. I did this one, and also, I've kind of been trying to figure out what style I want to paint portraits in. Sometimes it feels too cartoony, or not cartoony enough, too modeled, not modeled enough, too rough, too realistic, too pretty, too ugly.

I don't know if other artists have this sort of dilemma. Sometimes it feels like I am struggling with it because I am basically a weekend painter. Between the kids and the job and the house and the writing and the wasting time obsessions, I don't have enough time to dedicate to experimentation and creating and discovery-- the journey. But maybe that's just a story I tell. If you add together all the years I've been working on art, the moments after bedtime or the summers before kids, the painting sessions with my tiny watercolor set, the sketching while at work, the doodling while in meetings, the classes I've taken, the museums I've visited, the books I've read, the classes I've taught, the crafts I've concocted, the photos I've taken... this is the life of an artist.

Just because I don't do it as my full time job, or because I didn't get an MFA doesn't mean I'm not an artist. I've spent 35 years developing my art. I'm lucky because I was born to an artist and was encouraged even when I was very young, but I think we all have a tendency to devalue what we have achieved, our own personal journey, and only see what we do not have.

What makes us artists? I believe that all humans are inherently creative, an artist is simply someone who focuses their energy on developing that creativity, on growing and experimenting, on discovering who they are and what they have to say, and honing their skills.

We can be artists at any stage of development, and as artists, we might very well have different purposes for being artists. While one person wants to be the next Sally Mann or Kiki Smith or Chuck Close, another person might just want have an outlet for their personal self expression, with no desire to show or create a commodity at all. Me, I think I'm somewhere in between.

I would love to be able to make a career out of my art and writing, to not have a day job, but I also think that I would do it anyway, even if I never made any money at all. And more than making money for me, I want to be an artist who teaches and enlightens others.

I suppose that's what my blog has become. I share my journey, sometimes daily, sometimes weekly, but I do it so that I can shed a little light on the creative process, share with people who need inspiration, and perhaps find some sort of balance between living and creating. I don't know if I achieve that, but I try.

As for the painting, I am slowly developing a style of figurative work that pleases me. When I was painting the picture above, I went back to some old paintings that I wasn't satisfied with and adjusted the faces. Yes. What I thought was done, was not done. I might still continue to work on them. The process is never done. Or I suppose it is done sometimes, when you let go of a piece and send it out into the world or stuff it into a drawer... or maybe not, because you can revisit the images or ideas, they can continue on.

Oh just like life. Our process is ours. Our life is ours to develop, no matter what other people are doing. Just stay true to ourselves, try to be us, not someone else. Keep going. The journey is not over until we give up on it.

Keep on trucking.

(this painting inspired by this photo)

Begin Again

Begin Again

journal entry

pencil, pen, watercolor

I started a new journal. This is a big deal for me. It always feels like turning a new page, no pun intended. But more, since having kids, I just have not been as reflective. I don't get to sit for hours with my journal, writing and drawing. This might surprise some of you who have followed me here, on my blog, as I move along on my creative journal. I'm much more project oriented now than I used to be. Before it was all about the process, and the journal was a private thing where I sought understanding over my thoughts, emotions, experiences and my world.

Now I run around with kids and clean the house and go to work and watch tv and crash exhausted. When I write, it is with purpose, to illustrate something, to convey something, to reflect on something in my blog, for just one little minute, that might enlighten someone else on whatever struggle has crossed my path that day. If I do write in my journal nowadays, it's usually about planning my day, or getting my head straight so I can do something productive.

Not only am I not as reflective, and do I not keep up with my journal the way I used to, but I've been in a creative slump for the last three months.

So this new journal for me marks a re-dedication to my own creativity and reflection. I'm ready to get back to who I used to be.... not just the me before this winter, but also the me before kids.

When I think about it, the very existence of this blog is really about me trying to regain my creativity. And it has helped me along the way.... from truly not being creative, to painting everyday, to writing again, to developing new craft skills, to being creative as a mother.

So, I think what I'd like to see the rest of the year for myself and my blog is a return to my big goals as an artist and a writer and a creative. And a teacher too, in case I forgot that.

So you know what? In order to avoid my tendency to "forget" all my goals for myself, I am going to put them out there in writing. Maybe someday one or two of you will call me on avoiding my real goals, and maybe I'll grumble about it, but maybe it will spur me to keep going when I get scared.

So here they are, my creative goals:

1. Finish that novel and get it out there in the world, find an agent, find a publisher.

2. Take myself seriously as an artist. Play big. Go deep.

3. Take myself seriously as a business woman and invest some time and money into my shop, and giving the world what I have to give.

4. Start a creativity workshop IRL. Start one online. I know this stuff, I'm not just faking it here. And I know people who should be doing it with me. Ahem. If you think I am talking to you, I probably am.

So here I am, ready to start my creative goals over again. Begin again.

But on a funny note, I am not beginning from zero. Everything I have done in the past 6 years, even though it seems to have taken me off in a different direction from where I started, has gotten me farther and farther along in my goals. Sideways and roundabout maybe, but I am more prepared now for my goals than I ever have been in my life.

Those detours we take? They make us who we are.

Enjoy Life and Letting the Light in

Enjoy Life

watercolor, pen, pencil on paper

4"x8", repurposed menu

AEDM #15

I woke up this morning, still recovering from the flu or a cold or whatever this is, also suffering from a wine headache (known as an adult hangover, even though as an adult I only had three glasses all night and wasn't even buzzed) and feeling stressed out and behind on all my goals.

And then I said to myself, you know self? I'm going to try to enjoy my day.

And then, I must admit to you that I didn't quite succeed. It's kind of hard to enjoy your day when your stomach starts rebelling. (I really shouldn't drink wine. Sulfites aren't kind to me. Too bad it tastes so good.)

So a few hours later, after some squealing kids, a little bit of web surfing, some alka seltzer, and something to eat, I managed this little painting.

Witness:

No pressure to be perfect.

Going with the flow of life, paint, and paper.

Lots of color.

Remembering to remember.

Inspiring others (the boy has decided to paint again, finally. we may have broken through his own perfectionism that keeps him from painting/drawing/writing.)

Using what you have and living where you are.

Just breathing.

I can't guarantee that I have enjoyed every bit of today, but I'm trying to remember that I enjoy the parts I do enjoy, and not let the grumpy parts take over the rest.

I should be going down to do some writing in about a half hour, so I am trying to prepare myself to get writing. After my slow down this last week, I am still ahead, but not as far. And this morning, I thought about what I want this story to be... on the whole. I want it to be about a strange beauty, shadows and the unexpected things that grow there, the power that we find when we truly embrace ourselves and all our imperfections. And in order to that, I need to push myself to go deeper, wider, bigger. Also harder, more painful, uglier.

To go all the way with our endeavors, we really have to commit to the whole thing, even if it's scary, even if it isn't expected, even if people might not like it. Even if it's odd.

Say yes to those cracks between things.

That's how the light gets in.

Okay well, we'll see if I'm brave enough to go to those cracked and dark places, instead of just going with the flow.

As for you, I hope you are remembering to enjoy life in your little cracked or not so cracked parts of the world..

Dream Roll, Sully's Black Irish Public House

Dream Roll, Sully's Black Irish Public House

Acrylic Paint, Gesso, on Found Wood approx 11.5" by 19"

68/100 in 100 days Creative Challenge, day 20 August everyday

I have been very resistant. I don't WANT to post every day. I don't WANT to be creative everyday. I want to be a big baby and do nothing. Maybe surf the web all day. Pooh.

But that isn't what I want in the long run.

In the long run, what I want is to reach my dreams, to create, to be happy, to raise strong happy kids, to enjoy my life.

So basically I have to suck it up and keep going, even though sometimes my eventual dreams, the destination I am aiming for, seems to be so far away and hard to grasp as an actuality.

I made this Dream Roll for S, like the bus rolls you've seen around here and there, one that says the stops and destination of the bus route. But the dream roll is not about a bus route, but the route we take to reach our dreams. He's decided he'd like to open up a pub some day. It doesn't seem like it is in the cards for the near future, but I made this remind him of the destination of HIS dream. I wrote down some of the places he's been, a reminder that where we've been gets us to where we're going. And then I wrote the dream, the final destination.

Does writing something down, declaring it for yourself as a reality make it more likely that it will become a reality? Does it help you focus on your dreams? Does it draw your dreams to you?

Live This, or A Prayer

Live This, or A Prayer

Ink on Antique Book Page (Alice in Wonderland)

8/100 in 100 Creative Challenge, 6/18/10

I am trying to find my voice.

"WhaaAT?" say you. "Ain't you the girl who has all these Flying Girls floating around the internet?"

Why yes, yes I am, and yet still, I am searching for my voice.

I mean, I have a voice. I have been singing out loud for many years now, writing, drawing, painting, teaching, creating things, standing my ground. And yet, sometimes I feel as if there is more to discover.

I have no answers. I have no definitive description of my voice. And maybe this is good. It's possible when we have "figured out" who we are, we become landlocked in our own understanding of ourselves, and stop growing.

I go through periods where I explore certain things. I think Flying Girl lasted more than a year. That's pretty intense. And even now, she pops up without much conscious thought. She's still part of who I am. She is still part of my vocabulary. She shows up in different media. And the different media end up becoming part of my vocabulary.

Hmm. What if Flying Girl is actually my way into the new explorations. A kind of rosetta stone that can open up new languages in my creativity? That makes her pretty valuable.

This drawing, for example. No. There's no Flying Girl, not yet, but don't count her out. Actually, this drawing is pulling on an older language in my art. The doodles. The flowers. The houses. I really want the houses to come back, but I am looking for their way in. I just haven't found it yet. But I am liking the doodles/botanical inspiration.

To tell you the truth, drawing these is almost like meditation. It's kind of nice. I forget about that aspect of art sometimes. I forget how close to spirituality my art feels sometimes. I don't know if anyone else gets that when I they look at my work, but for me, art is near to my religion. My mixed up, made up, anti establishment, personally created spirituality/religion.

This piece here... this is like a prayer.

An Empty Garage, (and some things with which to fill it)

An Empty Garage (Or My Studio, when I get my butt in gear and set it up.)

So I've moved into my new house, but I am not settled. I am distinctly UNsettled. I want to get back to work and be creative and make it cozy and decorate and paint pictures and start doing large pieces and explore and expand and grow.

But I'm still all kerflumoxed.

Oh crap. Not the process again!

Why can't life just go smoothly and allow me to pick up my art exactly where I left off? Why do I have to go through the reimagining and rededicating and revisioning? Why do I have to build up my routine day by day? Why why why?

Because that is the process.

So here I am, in a lazy state of recovery from the stress of moving and switching jobs and taking care of kids and new schedules and trying to find a new babysitter and all that. And I.

DON'T.

WANT.

TO.

WORK.

SO.

HARD.

blargh.

But I do know what my ultimate goals are, and they are to live the creative life and write and paint and teach and make money off of these things. To live in a comfy, colorful and beautiful home. To have happy and strong kids. To have a community of creative souls. To enjoy life. To live in joy.

So sometimes I just have to get over my laziness and resistance and get back to work.

But then again, I don't want to force myself to do something as a chore that should be fun.

So let's reframe it all. Instead of looking at all the work I have to do and dreading it, maybe I'll think about things that I am excited about doing. New projects. Old projects. Fun things.

Like what I am going to do in that nice big space of a garage that I have claimed for a studio.

POTENTIAL PROJECTS

• Painting Large Pieces. (I have space. I can finally paint big!)
• Using wood and metal and various hardware to make sculptures along with paperclay and sculpey and felt other familiar materials.
• Painting my old found white dresser a vibrant teal. (I've already bought the paint.)
• Furnishing my empty garage with easels and tables and a couch and/or chairs to make it a comfortable space to create. (The landlord said he'd put in a new window on the west wall.)
• Perhaps starting a new 100 in 100 Days project (I'm scared of taking it on.)
• Getting back to reading tarot cards. (I don't talk about this much, because I haven't done it often since having kids, but I used to have clients in NYC and I enjoyed it.)
• Learning how to do resin jewelry.
• Learning how to encaustic painting.
• Finishing my little doll and turning her into a kind of hearth goddess. (I need to get some art supplies to finish her up.)
• Having a place to be creative and exploratory, and perhaps also, away from the computer so I don't get sucked into the interwebs.

These are just the projects that come to mind. They are exciting. I should really get on it, before I get stuck in a rut of not being creative. Start the juices flowing so that life can be juicy.

I think I need to remember my baby steps. Maybe I'll start painting in my journal, first, so that I can get the practice back without all the stress of feeling like I need to produce something fabulous.

What projects would you like to take on? What would it take for you to get excited about them?

Pink Barbie Typewriter and Staying Put

Pink Smith Corona, in the Grass

I went yard saling this weekend. And I got this pink manual typewriter.

Do I need it? Nope. Did I walk by it, gazing longingly at it as I passed again and again while on the search for house hold items? You bet I did.

I have lots of things to shop for, because we are setting up a new house, after our gypsy ways the last couple of years. I still have things in storage in different states, but for now, we're setting up all over again.

Here's the house we rented.

Look at that front porch! Perfect for rainstorm watching and for morning lattes. The house itself is just okay. But it was the porch, the back deck, the yard and the garage... which I have already commandeered for my studio (larger works! yay!) that sold me. This is actually the side view, because I wanted to show that porch. I think those hedges need to be trimmed.

And shall I get some hanging flower pots? I'd really like some wicker furniture, too. A rocking chair, maybe.

Well, here. Look at that. Look at how distracting it is. I'm already decorating and I haven't even moved in yet. Plus there's all the upheaval of moving and getting adjusted. And still my new job to be settled into. And I'm working on my etsy shop, too... getting ready to put prints back up for sale.

Yes. I have picked Chelsea Michigan to sit and stay for a while. I wasn't planning it. I kept meaning to get back to New York, somehow. But this is where we landed, and Gabriel is heading into kindergarten, and it's time to actually be content living where I am actually living.

And maybe that's why I got the pink Barbie typewriter.

It's a sign that I am committing to the things that matter for my future. And a sign that my future is right here, right now in the present. A concrete (or steel and enamel) manifestation of my dreams. One that is solid and heavy, although it does come in a handy dandy travel case.

The truth is, it's time to get back to writing.

It's time to write.

And the idea is scary. In a good way, but scary.

Botanical Specimens, by my son. Not by me. Because he is not me.

Botanical Specimen, Something to be Excited About, by Gabriel
My almost 5 year old son is afraid of drawing. Yes. That's right. He refuses to draw.

What does one do when one is an obsessive artist whose son refuses to draw?

One lets him alone, and looks at the problem, until one discovers the tack to take.

My son loves science. He loves nature of all types, animals, rocks, dinosaurs, nanobytes, plants, life cycles... whatever. Lately, he has decided that he wants to have a museum... one with real dinosaur bones.

Recently I saw a post where preschoolers drew flowers from life and all of a sudden I thought, oh my god, that is the answer.

I went out into the yard, grabbed a dandelion, and said, "Hey Gabriel, do you want to draw a botanical specimen?"

All of a sudden, he was excited. He sat down at the table where I taped the dandelion and a dandelion puff ball seed.
I asked him what color he needed. He said green. I showed him two greens and he picked the light colored one. I asked him what else he saw and he said the flower and he asked for a yellow crayon. We continued looking at the parts of the flower and drawing them. He even asked for white for the puff ball part, although I explained to him that white crayon wouldn't show up on white paper.

We continued to draw the parts of the flower until lunch got in the way. I set the picture aside and showed him a pine cone and a piece of amethyst geode he already had, and told him we could try those next, and they would be good specimens for his museum.

He never complained about not wanting to draw. He was interested. He thought about the shapes that he saw and how to represent them. He thought about what colors would be best for the different parts. It was an important project to him... not a drawing project dictated by my thoughts about what he should be doing. It wasn't about me. It was about him.


What happens when we follow our loves, our interests, our passions? What happens if we are given permission to be our own selves, and find our own way?

Ode to A Journal

I always talk about creativity and creating, art and crafts, the process of being creative, the struggles of being creative... but I realized yesterday that one of the things I don't talk about much is something that has been with me, in my process, almost as long as I have been creating.

My journal.

Maybe the reason why I haven't written much about the joys of journaling is because since getting seriously involved with my blog, much of my journaling energy has been diverted to this space here.

But it's not the same. Not at all.

Blogs are great for sharing your life and your projects, for developing your voice, for discussing important things, for learning how to show up to your writing every day, but a journal... ah, a journal is a friend.

I started keeping a journal in Junior High School, when I was about 13. Except for one break, after my brother found my diary and read it, I have been writing in journals since then. Almost 27 years. I have about 60 journals. They are in storage now, like Anais Nin's journals, although not nearly so racy, and not quite so neurotic, I hope.

My journal has taught me so much, given me so much, provided a great service to me as a person and an artist.

What have I gained? I'd like to share an incomplete list.

Someone to talk to when I had no one to talk with.
Documentation of my past and my past self when I don't have the greatest memory.
A place to explore new thoughts and deepen my understanding of the world.
A place to share secrets that I was not ready to release into the world.
A place to practice new skills and goals.
Something to do when I had nothing to do.
Company for when I was wandering out on my own.
A place to document adventures.
A place to explore my expanding concept of the world.
A place to play and joke and say silly things.
A place to be irreverent without offending anyone.
A spot to collect ephemera, like movie tickets, flower pressings, old notes.
A place for sketches of life as it goes by.
A place for trying out new ideas before they flit away.
A place to hold conversations between me and my fictional characters.
A place to hide my poetry that I don't want to show anyone.
A place to rehearse difficult conversations that I am not ready to have yet, with real people.
A way to get up my bravery.
A place to obsess about things without annoying real people.
A place to obsess about my imperfections, fears, upsets and pains, before finally letting go of them because I am sick and tired of obsessing.
A place to plan my day.
A place to plan my goals.
A place to dream of my life.
A place to vent because sometimes people in real life are really fucking annoying.
A place to curse without offending people. (sorry)
A place to remember who I am and where I come from.
A place to be inspired.
A place to focus on being positive.
A place to write down notes from books, movies, magazines, tarot, menus, or what have you.
A place to write dreams, which I always forget.
A place to write schedules, notes, phone numbers, addresses, and all sorts of things I don't want to lose.
A place to write good inspiring quotes that I find.
A place to list books I want to read or music I want to explore, or places I want to go.
A place to write down baby names, years before I had any babies at all. Pretty sure I didn't choose any of those names, but who cares.
A place to get the thoughts out and away. So I don't have to obsess about them and can do better things.
A place to write novels.
A place to write poetry.
A place to sketch out future paintings.
A place to paint small paintings, lowering the stakes and with out freaking myself out about being a "painter".
A place to explore different artistic media, like acrylics, gel pens, pastels, crayons, white out, tape, or whatever is on hand.
A place to find spare pieces of paper that I can tear out if I need to.
A place to recover from heart break.
A place to write random words when organized words are too hard.
A thing to share with very special others, to help them, or to connect, or just because.
A thing that makes a warm summer morning on the fire escape with a cup of coffee feel like a vacation.
An accessory that fits in right along with garden cafes, Greenwich Village, a single girl, and possibly a beret.
Something to do, wherever I go, whenever I go there.
A time passer on the subway or waiting in line.
A place to create collages.
A place to sketch out city scenes.
A place to explore the inner landscape.
A place to write notes and pass them to other people during boring meetings.
A doodle pad for meetings, classes or phone calls.
A planner for creating books, classes, workshops, projects, moves, and all sorts of large projects.
A thing to go back over, every year, to look at who I was, where I am from and how far I have come.
A habit, a compulsion, a task, an obsession, a defining trait.
An unshakable writing habit.
A place where I could learn to turn off my internal editor and just write.
A place to practice writing well and writing fast.
A place to keep my nervous fingers busy.
A place and time to breathe deeply, metaphorically and literally.
A thing that has helped me become a writer.

I could go on and on. My journal has also helped me to be a prolific writer, you see... but I thought that I'd stop and ask you guys to share what you have gained from your journal.

What have you gained from your Journal?

Lost In The Wild, or Do You Trust Yourself Enough?

Lost in the Wild Flying Girl Brooch Set
wool and polyester felt, thread, acrylic paint, pin backings
(that black one is lizard patterned. Funky.)


I have lots older stuff to show you, but I've been completely taken away by this new project of mine. I'm making felt pins!

I've been cutting out silhouettes, painting, embroidering, appliqueing, sewing, stitching, arranging. It's been lots of fun. I have a bunch of this beautiful gray wool felt, and have been spicing it up with the brighter colors of regular felt.

I've been playing with embroidery, which I really haven't done since my seamstress grandma taught me back when I was seven.

(As a little side story, after my sister and I moved into our apartment on Elizabeth Street in Nolita in 1994, an incredibly "hip" New York neighborhood, my grandmother came to visit us and told us that the sweat shop she sewed in all day was right across the street. And thus does a grimy, industrial and ghetto neighborhood become chi chi.)

I do not know where I am going with these little pins, although I have already branched out into more images and brighter colors, but I am doing them because I am having fun. I like putting the colors together. I like arranging the pins into little stories. I like that each pin I make, I like better than the last. I like that my sewing and embroidering is getting better with each one. I like the way each pin is at least three layers of felt, and you can see just a hint of color of the inside layer. Just like my paintings, interestingly.

I am planning to put these pins up in my etsy shop, but I haven't figured out the details yet. Gosh. I have so many things to list, but no time/focus to do it. Someday, I will just have half a million new works up, over night.

Now... all I need is the etsy fairy to come and put it all together for me.

Ah, well.

As I said, I am enjoying them, but I have no idea if anyone else will. I have no idea what will come of them. Maybe I'll move off into other kinds of jewelry... rings, necklaces. OH MY GOD now I want a felt cuff. I can't stop coming up with ideas here. So I'm just going to go with it, even if it might not lead anywhere at all.

I believe that if you follow your heart, and face your dreams bravely and honestly, you can't really go wrong. Even if something doesn't work out... well, you gain so much knowledge, wisdom and understanding from failure that you still end up ahead of the game.

So, now I'm asking you... where does your heart tell you to go, even if your brain is afraid it's a bad idea? If you think honestly about what would happen if you failed at that goal, is it really all that bad? Would you be able to pick yourself up and dust yourself off if your heart-goal collapsed? Do you think you are strong enough, resilient enough, brave enough to aim for what you really want, and possibly fail?

I think the real question here is, "Do you trust yourself enough to follow your heart?"

Flying Girl Blessings, or I am as open as the night sky

Flying Girl Blessings, or I am as open as the night sky
felt, polyfill, thread, silver embroidery floss, recycled bead, paper and golden fluid acrylic
about 6" from top of head to bottom of banner? I forgot to measure. Hanging thread adds another six inches.

Yesterday while browsing about the web, I got the burning urge to make a 3-D flying girl. Something that could exist in our very own world, not just the world on the page.

Sometimes I get tired of just painting. I've never really been a one medium kind of gal, but I've spent the last couple of years mainly diving into paint. Don't get me wrong, I love it, but sometimes I start to feel a little bit confined doing just one thing.

All growing up, I made stuff out of everything. Doll dresses. A little stuffed shmoo that I made with my sister. Crocheted slippers. Little plasticene figurines. Balloon farms. Paper dolls. Bracelets out of purloined telephone wire. Radio shows on tape. Horror stories to read to my Junior High School friends. Macrame friendship bracelets. Beaded necklaces. Lipgloss out of vaseline. Cut paper animals. Twig houses. Sculpee christmas ornaments, beads, dragons and wizards, dice, brooches. And this was all before I ever took being an artist really seriously. It was just something I did because I enjoyed it and it kept my hands busy.

Over the past year or two, I've been watching other artists explore the breadth of creativity, while I was trying to focus down on one or two media. I suppose it makes sense. I needed to explore one medium, rather than bounce around like a jumping bean.

But yesterday, after seeing other people do stuff that I just thought was cool, it was like I bust out and HAD to do something.

I don't have as many odds and ends as I used to. They are either in storage or have been purged. No silver beads or glass mosaic tiles. No sculpee or fabric stashes. No folders of magazine clippings or that package of copper leaf I've been hoarding.

So I went with my leftover supplies from making Christmas softies for my kids.
Flying Girl Blessings, or I am as open as the night sky (back view)
(here you can see the hanging cord and bead)

This ornament is the result of my fevered multi-media jones.

She is actually the second version. The first version was in black cotton and I found her too delicate to turn and stuff. I nearly tore my hair out trying to manage. I still might be able to salvage something of her, but these are both prototypes.

I am not pleased with the materials. Polyester felt is not my medium of choice, but it was what I had on hand. And good for learning.

I do, however like something in the idea, here. I am planning to make more of her. I am thinking I might like to sell these in my etsy shop. I particularly feel like these pieces, more so than a 2-D work of art are about making something real in the world (HA! There's my focus word for the year-- "realize"). To me, this flying girl seems like a wish made real. An idea to focus down on.

That's why I called her a blessing. In my mind, I think this piece is a concrete manifestation of someone wanting to be open to love. You cannot find love if you do not open yourself to it... open yourself to the possibility of love, the possiblity of being hurt, of depending upon someone, or being there for someone else.

I suppose I was thinking about Valentines Day. You know, love and kisses and pink candy. I've never been very good at pink and candy. Well, candy yes, pink hearts and flowers not so much.

Ironically, I have already been commissioned to create another flying girl doll made of pink, for my almost three year old. She wanted this one, actually. I said I'd make her one of ther own. She chose pink.

I suppose I will need to come to peace with my own pink cottoncandy heart and give my daughter her own Flying Girl blessings.

Letting It Rest: A Metaphor for A Creative Process

Photo from the porch, via poladroid.

I've been trying to take photos of all the pretty snow around me, but they never come out as nice as they are in real life. Even as nice as they are in my head. The things that I SEE are off hidden in the distance, behind trees or faded by time. They don't show up in the photo the way I want them too.

I've been looking at my wardrobe and feeling uninspired. Tired of sweaters and jeans and layers to keep me from shivering. Of dressing for staying at home and chasing after kids.

I've been dissatisfied with my book choices, as my library is back in storage and the books that I do have at my fingertips are often too stupid to keep me from throwing them across the room before I run over, pick them up and start reading them again.

Once upon a time, I was reading Skinny Legs and All by Tom Robbins, and in it, someone tells a character that making art is just the act of creating a thing you really want to see in the world, because it doesn't exist yet. That's not an exact quote, but that's because I haven't read the book in ages and don't have the book now, but I do remember the idea.

This is art.

Think about what should be in the world, what you want to see, what you would love if it were to exist, then find a way to make it exist.

I've been looking around the web at artists and writers, novelists and designers, photographers and philosophers, cooks and decorators and teachers and dreamers all those lovely people who make things exist because they want to see something lovely, something meaningful that isn't quite there yet.

That's when I start feeling the urge to paint. Or to rip apart my old clothes and rearrange them into something newer and lovelier. Or to make soup from scratch. Or to make an altar in the corner of my room dedicated to creating beauty. Or to keep working on that novel of mine, because it DOESN'T make me want to throw it across the room, but makes me want to read the next chapter.

And yet... sometimes those urges have to sit a time. They have to sit in a big oiled bowl covered with a dishcloth, and grow like bread raising, breathing and multiplying until they are big enough and strong enough to exist in the real world. Growing in richness and depth and texture, filling with air, gaining connections.

And sometimes I have to take out the dough and punch it and knead it and roll it and get it into shape. Sometimes I need to preheat that oven and prepare those pans. Sketch out those ideas. Make my plans. Get my supplies ready.

Maybe that's the balance between just letting ourselves be with all our imperfections, and driving ourselves mad with our drive to be productive.

Maybe we have to prepare the way for our work to exist, for ourselves to be happy and our best selves. And then we have to sit back and trust the natural process. Allow ourselves to rest, allow our ideas to grow, allow life to happen around us, while we are preparing the ground for our dreams, and our art to exist.