"I deserve to make artful messes!"
"I allow myself the pleasure of creating."
"Making art makes me a better, more interesting person!"
Repeat as needed.
Showing posts with label believe. Show all posts
Showing posts with label believe. Show all posts
Friday, February 24, 2012
Creative Affirmations
Friday, February 24, 2012
Repeat after me.....
"I deserve to make artful messes!"
"I allow myself the pleasure of creating."
"Making art makes me a better, more interesting person!"
Repeat as needed.
"I deserve to make artful messes!"
"I allow myself the pleasure of creating."
"Making art makes me a better, more interesting person!"
Repeat as needed.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
8 Ways to Get Wild With Your Art - a guest post from Goddess Leonie!
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
I am over-the-moon excited to welcome Goddess Leonie Allan to My Blooming Life . . . she's sharing some juicy creative wisdom in a sparkly guest post below. Ready to get wild with your art? Read on!
8 Ways To Get Wild With Your Art
1. Paint with your toes. No really. I mean it.
Squishy squishy toes. Rainbow paint.
What could be happier?
The giggles will fly from you in a flock.
You, beautiful you. The kid again.
2. Draw yourself.
Your beautiful, precious, most shimmering self.
What would you look like?
How radiant would you be?
3. Make art with friends.
Smear supplies out on the floor.
Nestle up. Make tea. Laugh.
Get gluey fingers.
Draw wild paintings of mermaids.
Together.
A circle of creative goddesses.
4. Make joint paintings with animals in your arms.
They will leave paw prints.
On your painting and on your heart.
5. Make your creative nook a sanctuary.
Festoon it with your favourite flowers.
Talismans of joy. Crystals and ink and large mugs of tea.
Make it a home for your soul.
6. Put yourself out there.
I know, nutmeg. It can be scary.
But great wonders can be unleashed
when we turn up
and share the miracles inside us
with the world.
7. Make yourself a creative buffet.
Splay out your treasures
like they are meals at your favourite all you can eat Chinese restaurant.
But, you know, with sequins and pastels and buttons and charcoal.
Let it delight your systems.
Then, fingers itching,
let the rainbows emerge
from your hands
onto paper.
8. And most of all?
Remember you are a goddess.
A wise, glorious, creative goddess.
One who has deep beauty inside her.
A wood-hewn chest of miracles,
ready to emerge.
______
Goddess Leonie is the creator of GoddessGuidebook.com, a popular creativity + spirituality blog for women.
8 Ways To Get Wild With Your Art
1. Paint with your toes. No really. I mean it.
Squishy squishy toes. Rainbow paint.
What could be happier?
The giggles will fly from you in a flock.
You, beautiful you. The kid again.
2. Draw yourself.
Your beautiful, precious, most shimmering self.
What would you look like?
How radiant would you be?
3. Make art with friends.
Smear supplies out on the floor.
Nestle up. Make tea. Laugh.
Get gluey fingers.
Draw wild paintings of mermaids.
Together.
A circle of creative goddesses.
4. Make joint paintings with animals in your arms.
They will leave paw prints.
On your painting and on your heart.
5. Make your creative nook a sanctuary.
Festoon it with your favourite flowers.
Talismans of joy. Crystals and ink and large mugs of tea.
Make it a home for your soul.
6. Put yourself out there.
I know, nutmeg. It can be scary.
But great wonders can be unleashed
when we turn up
and share the miracles inside us
with the world.
7. Make yourself a creative buffet.
Splay out your treasures
like they are meals at your favourite all you can eat Chinese restaurant.
But, you know, with sequins and pastels and buttons and charcoal.
Let it delight your systems.
Then, fingers itching,
let the rainbows emerge
from your hands
onto paper.
8. And most of all?
Remember you are a goddess.
A wise, glorious, creative goddess.
One who has deep beauty inside her.
A wood-hewn chest of miracles,
ready to emerge.
______
Goddess Leonie is the creator of GoddessGuidebook.com, a popular creativity + spirituality blog for women.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
My Angel Wore Dreadlocks
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
(I think I may have shared this before, but I'm republishing this story and dedicating it to Connie - my other beautiful friend with the gorgeous dreads.)
*****
“Never drive faster than your guardian angel can fly.”
--unknown
I find it difficult to believe in ghosts, but I do believe in angels.
In 1985, I moved to San Diego. Shortly afterwards, I began dating Rob, a handsome photographer. I enjoyed his company, but it was nothing serious. We went out on a couple of fun dates. I thought he was an interesting, arty type of guy.
One night, he invited me for dinner and a movie. Following dinner, the weather turned cold and Rob asked if we could drop by his home to pick up his jacket. I had not been there before, but felt comfortable enough to agree.
Rob’s car twisted and turned up a hillside road leading through a charming tree-lined neighborhood to his home. Once inside his unusual and eclectic bungalow, he gave me a tour. I was impressed by his sophisticated taste. I enjoyed looking at his black and white photography and stylish European furnishings. Yet I could not shake the feeling that his interiors appeared more like a movie set than a personal home. Scenic photography backdrops framed the setting. Stainless steel lights and professional equipment were used like props—or even sculpture. Picture perfect!
This guy seemed to have potential - handsome, fit, talented and charismatic. Suddenly, he kissed me once and then again. He didn't stop. He wanted more. "Slow down—not so fast," I insisted. I discouraged more advances and reminded him of our movie plans. But he persisted. I grew fearful as he became more agitated and aggressive. What could I have done to make this guy so angry?
I found out quickly that saying “no” to him did not work. Instinct told me to get out of there. But out to where? Where exactly was there? Once outside, where would I go and how?
It was dark, and I was in an unfamiliar neighborhood. When I attempted to leave, Rob tried to block the door with his body. Fortunately, I was faster. I jerked the door open and rushed down steps leading to the street. Unbelievably, a yellow cab was speeding towards me. I hailed the taxi and it screeched to a stop, just like I’d seen in movies.
M i r a c u l o u s!
In an instant, I was seated inside a smokey cab. For once, I didn't mind the smoke. In moments, the cab was flying down Interstate 5. With only $50 in my purse, I nervously watched as dollars clicked by on the mounting meter. I prayed $50 would cover my trip home. Should I ask the driver to let me out early—and where would early be? I was a stranger to San Diego. I leaned back and decided to work out the tab when I arrived home.
The sounds of reggae - and my heart thumping in time with its steel drums - momentarily distracted me from Rob's intentions. Ziggy Marley’s voice came through the car’s tinny speakers as I watched my driver’s dreadlocks swing rhythmically across her beaded seat. Recovering my composure, I quietly spoke, “Ma’am. I think you just rescued me from a very bad situation.”
Her crystal blue eyes glowed against her dark Jamaican skin as she turned to respond. “Yah, mon. Angels are everywhere.”
It was midnight-quiet when we arrived at my place. I gratefully breathed in the calming scent of eucalyptus that grew near my front door. Ah! The lovely scent of home and safety!
Leaning forward to check the meter, I was stunned to read the fare $50-even, leaving no money for a tip. Guiltily, I apologized to my angel. She laughed and said, “Well, my good deed is done.” I thanked her and stepped outside the car. The sounds of reggae still drifting from its windows, I watched her cab fade into the night.
I’ve often wondered if my cab driver’s appearance on that dark, secluded San Diego street was mere coincidence? Perhaps. I don’t think so. I believe it was divine intervention.
I know one thing for certain, my photographer's “too perfect” bungalow was staged for disaster and I got the picture. If intuition is the voice of our guardian angel, thank God I listened to mine. I am forever grateful.
*****
“Never drive faster than your guardian angel can fly.”
--unknown
I find it difficult to believe in ghosts, but I do believe in angels.
In 1985, I moved to San Diego. Shortly afterwards, I began dating Rob, a handsome photographer. I enjoyed his company, but it was nothing serious. We went out on a couple of fun dates. I thought he was an interesting, arty type of guy.
One night, he invited me for dinner and a movie. Following dinner, the weather turned cold and Rob asked if we could drop by his home to pick up his jacket. I had not been there before, but felt comfortable enough to agree.
Rob’s car twisted and turned up a hillside road leading through a charming tree-lined neighborhood to his home. Once inside his unusual and eclectic bungalow, he gave me a tour. I was impressed by his sophisticated taste. I enjoyed looking at his black and white photography and stylish European furnishings. Yet I could not shake the feeling that his interiors appeared more like a movie set than a personal home. Scenic photography backdrops framed the setting. Stainless steel lights and professional equipment were used like props—or even sculpture. Picture perfect!
This guy seemed to have potential - handsome, fit, talented and charismatic. Suddenly, he kissed me once and then again. He didn't stop. He wanted more. "Slow down—not so fast," I insisted. I discouraged more advances and reminded him of our movie plans. But he persisted. I grew fearful as he became more agitated and aggressive. What could I have done to make this guy so angry?
I found out quickly that saying “no” to him did not work. Instinct told me to get out of there. But out to where? Where exactly was there? Once outside, where would I go and how?
It was dark, and I was in an unfamiliar neighborhood. When I attempted to leave, Rob tried to block the door with his body. Fortunately, I was faster. I jerked the door open and rushed down steps leading to the street. Unbelievably, a yellow cab was speeding towards me. I hailed the taxi and it screeched to a stop, just like I’d seen in movies.
M i r a c u l o u s!
In an instant, I was seated inside a smokey cab. For once, I didn't mind the smoke. In moments, the cab was flying down Interstate 5. With only $50 in my purse, I nervously watched as dollars clicked by on the mounting meter. I prayed $50 would cover my trip home. Should I ask the driver to let me out early—and where would early be? I was a stranger to San Diego. I leaned back and decided to work out the tab when I arrived home.
The sounds of reggae - and my heart thumping in time with its steel drums - momentarily distracted me from Rob's intentions. Ziggy Marley’s voice came through the car’s tinny speakers as I watched my driver’s dreadlocks swing rhythmically across her beaded seat. Recovering my composure, I quietly spoke, “Ma’am. I think you just rescued me from a very bad situation.”
Her crystal blue eyes glowed against her dark Jamaican skin as she turned to respond. “Yah, mon. Angels are everywhere.”
It was midnight-quiet when we arrived at my place. I gratefully breathed in the calming scent of eucalyptus that grew near my front door. Ah! The lovely scent of home and safety!
Leaning forward to check the meter, I was stunned to read the fare $50-even, leaving no money for a tip. Guiltily, I apologized to my angel. She laughed and said, “Well, my good deed is done.” I thanked her and stepped outside the car. The sounds of reggae still drifting from its windows, I watched her cab fade into the night.
I’ve often wondered if my cab driver’s appearance on that dark, secluded San Diego street was mere coincidence? Perhaps. I don’t think so. I believe it was divine intervention.
I know one thing for certain, my photographer's “too perfect” bungalow was staged for disaster and I got the picture. If intuition is the voice of our guardian angel, thank God I listened to mine. I am forever grateful.
Monday, October 4, 2010
"The Hug"
Monday, October 4, 2010
Today, I had some much needed painting time. I loved that it was cold and raining - something we don't get much here in sunny SoCal. The rain gave me the added incentive I needed to stay inside....I tell ya, I was creating a helluva a list of what I "should" do!
I'm so happy I gave myself the art-making time. I haven't painted in a while and the calling was building in me like the thunderclouds brewing outside my window.
This painting came pouring out of me in less than an hour. It is one of the few I can claim was truly created "intuitively" (which may account for the surreal aspect).
I began with the usual (for me) brightly painted geometric background. Which frankly, I am sick of painting, but that's what came out. Being sick of it and all, I grabbed a hand full of titanium white and literally smeared it on. Finger painting, yay! That'll loosen you up!
When I stepped back to look at my colorful mess, there she was..... a figure lurking, waiting to be pulled forth. So I did and here she is for all the world to see.
I cannot tell you the satisfaction that comes from painting intuitively. It is a practice that teaches faith and surrender.... like religion. Trust the process. Forget the outcome. No matter if pieces like this never sell or find an audience.....it is so incredibly fulfilling. Like a big, long hug .... for myself.
I'm so happy I gave myself the art-making time. I haven't painted in a while and the calling was building in me like the thunderclouds brewing outside my window.
This painting came pouring out of me in less than an hour. It is one of the few I can claim was truly created "intuitively" (which may account for the surreal aspect).
I began with the usual (for me) brightly painted geometric background. Which frankly, I am sick of painting, but that's what came out. Being sick of it and all, I grabbed a hand full of titanium white and literally smeared it on. Finger painting, yay! That'll loosen you up!
When I stepped back to look at my colorful mess, there she was..... a figure lurking, waiting to be pulled forth. So I did and here she is for all the world to see.
I cannot tell you the satisfaction that comes from painting intuitively. It is a practice that teaches faith and surrender.... like religion. Trust the process. Forget the outcome. No matter if pieces like this never sell or find an audience.....it is so incredibly fulfilling. Like a big, long hug .... for myself.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Taking Out the Trash
Thursday, September 23, 2010
I have a little story for you. A different kind of story than normally found here.
This morning, I awoke extra early. 5 A.M. to be exact. The house was quiet and dark. My hubby's out of town. Let me also explain that this week has been challenging. More than challenging. Lots to deal with. None of it good. Peaking yesterday with an abscessed tooth and an emergency root canal.
So with this gift of quiet time, I knew I needed a shift . . . some calm in the storm. I clicked on a tranquil little meditation stored on my computer. Twenty minutes of breathing and stillness. Ahhhhh, perfect. I began.
Breathe. In. Out. In. Out.
Not 60 seconds into my blissful state, I realized my computer was bleeping. If you have a MAC, you'd recognize that annoying bleep. The kind warning you when one of your applications needs updating. I opened my eyes to scan the screen for the normally accompanying jumping icon. Nothing. Nothing needed updating. Hmm.
Breathe. In. Out. In. Out.
The sound intensified, quickened. I thought, "I can do this. I can still my mind enough to ignore that bleeping bleep!"
Breathe. In. Out. AAaaaarrrgghhhhh! It won't stop!
Ignore it . . . breathe. In. Out. In. Out.
Somehow through the repetitive bleeping, I managed to quiet down my monkey mind. It came to me in a sudden flash. "Empty the trash", my now still internal voice said. "Just empty the trash." I opened one eye. Do I dare disrupt this stillness I'm feeling? "Yes," it said.
I opened both eyes, glanced at the "trash can" icon and clicked "empty the trash". It worked! The bleeping stopped immediately. Wow, I've never had that much trash in the can before. So I guess it's never bleeped at me.
Breathe. In. Out. In. Out. Peace. Restored.
I sat for the remaining 10 minutes of the meditation with a smile on my face. Listening to my inner voice had worked. How quickly I forget that. Emptying my computer's trash can of all 217 items worked.
A subtle clue to also clear my mind of this week's "trashy" thoughts. I'm dumping all 217 of them!
This morning, I awoke extra early. 5 A.M. to be exact. The house was quiet and dark. My hubby's out of town. Let me also explain that this week has been challenging. More than challenging. Lots to deal with. None of it good. Peaking yesterday with an abscessed tooth and an emergency root canal.
So with this gift of quiet time, I knew I needed a shift . . . some calm in the storm. I clicked on a tranquil little meditation stored on my computer. Twenty minutes of breathing and stillness. Ahhhhh, perfect. I began.
Breathe. In. Out. In. Out.
Not 60 seconds into my blissful state, I realized my computer was bleeping. If you have a MAC, you'd recognize that annoying bleep. The kind warning you when one of your applications needs updating. I opened my eyes to scan the screen for the normally accompanying jumping icon. Nothing. Nothing needed updating. Hmm.
Breathe. In. Out. In. Out.
The sound intensified, quickened. I thought, "I can do this. I can still my mind enough to ignore that bleeping bleep!"
Breathe. In. Out. AAaaaarrrgghhhhh! It won't stop!
Ignore it . . . breathe. In. Out. In. Out.
Somehow through the repetitive bleeping, I managed to quiet down my monkey mind. It came to me in a sudden flash. "Empty the trash", my now still internal voice said. "Just empty the trash." I opened one eye. Do I dare disrupt this stillness I'm feeling? "Yes," it said.
I opened both eyes, glanced at the "trash can" icon and clicked "empty the trash". It worked! The bleeping stopped immediately. Wow, I've never had that much trash in the can before. So I guess it's never bleeped at me.
Breathe. In. Out. In. Out. Peace. Restored.
I sat for the remaining 10 minutes of the meditation with a smile on my face. Listening to my inner voice had worked. How quickly I forget that. Emptying my computer's trash can of all 217 items worked.
A subtle clue to also clear my mind of this week's "trashy" thoughts. I'm dumping all 217 of them!
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Thursday, August 26, 2010
They Talk to You
Thursday, August 26, 2010
They talk to you . . paintings. They do.
Sometimes I'll hear the bare whisper of color, or line, or form. She may try out a new hair style....or a shocking palette of color.
She may go a little wild....or Mr. Spock green!
Then something happens....the painting speaks louder, as I quiet down. She tells me what was there, hidden all along.
Before my eyes, she transforms into a magical golden queen . . .
with messages meant just for me . . . from deep within my creative soul.
She also told me she has more to say . . . tomorrow.
Sometimes I'll hear the bare whisper of color, or line, or form. She may try out a new hair style....or a shocking palette of color.
She may go a little wild....or Mr. Spock green!
Then something happens....the painting speaks louder, as I quiet down. She tells me what was there, hidden all along.
Before my eyes, she transforms into a magical golden queen . . .
with messages meant just for me . . . from deep within my creative soul.
She also told me she has more to say . . . tomorrow.
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Fair Warning
Sunday, July 11, 2010
The past week has been a painting tornado....I have been participating in Connie Hozvicka's Fearless Painting Adventure called "BIG"! Our week has been filled with exercises and discussions and assignments that must've opened up new neural pathways in my creative little brain because I am on FIRE! Whew! There's 5 more weeks to go...there's no telling how BIG I'm likely to become!
No....I'm not gonna show you what I've been up to....you would have to be there to understand.
But you can find Connie here.
I'm over the top energized, ready to rock and I AM JUST GETTING STARTED! I may never put down the paint brush again. All self imposed barriers and limitations and walls are tumbling down! Fair warning!
My classmate, the beautiful and talented Lisa Wilson, said it best with these words: "I'm crashing through some imaginary wall that I didn't even know existed, some wall of fearbricks that I've paint-bombed." Fearbricks that she's paint-bombed!!! OMG that's BIG! (She gave me permission to use her words. She did! See how generous my new tribe of fearless painters are!! Go find Lisa here.
No....I'm not gonna show you what I've been up to....you would have to be there to understand.
But you can find Connie here.
I'm over the top energized, ready to rock and I AM JUST GETTING STARTED! I may never put down the paint brush again. All self imposed barriers and limitations and walls are tumbling down! Fair warning!
My classmate, the beautiful and talented Lisa Wilson, said it best with these words: "I'm crashing through some imaginary wall that I didn't even know existed, some wall of fearbricks that I've paint-bombed." Fearbricks that she's paint-bombed!!! OMG that's BIG! (She gave me permission to use her words. She did! See how generous my new tribe of fearless painters are!! Go find Lisa here.
Saturday, June 12, 2010
Who Does She Think She is?
Saturday, June 12, 2010
I MUST see this documentary about women artists....
Thursday, February 18, 2010
The Painting Pad
Thursday, February 18, 2010
As promised, here's the new painting pad. I feel so very blessed to have this large studio space! The series of events that led up to this dream come true would blow your mind!
Couldn't give ya a little peek until I'd officially christened the space with sprinkles of bubbly and glitter . . .
As with a painting, many more layers will be added, so I'll be sure to post more pics soon.
Oh . . . here's a bit of my gigantizoid un-stretched canvas I'm playing with....ah finally room to stretch out!
Believe in your creative dreams . . . they do come true!
See ya!
Couldn't give ya a little peek until I'd officially christened the space with sprinkles of bubbly and glitter . . .
As with a painting, many more layers will be added, so I'll be sure to post more pics soon.
Oh . . . here's a bit of my gigantizoid un-stretched canvas I'm playing with....ah finally room to stretch out!
Believe in your creative dreams . . . they do come true!
See ya!
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Dreams Don't Sleep
Sunday, October 25, 2009
My husband says "Dreams don't sleep". That's how he convinced me to get up at 5:00 A.M. on a Sunday morning to tote him to the airport. (He knows I'm a staunch believer in dream chasing!)
So he's off to Napa moving towards his dream of becoming a wine maker. He'll be spending time with dream digging vintner extraordinaire, Jason Moore, leaving me to share a little about my own dream catching.
It all started here yesterday, at my semi-annual trek to the open art studios of L.A. Brewery.
(Yeah....that's a hot tub atop one of the amazing artist's lofts. Ahhhh, swoon!)
Here's some of the amazing structures . . .
It's all wacky and fun and inspiring, but I digress.
The dream catching part is about more than taking in views of incredible art and diverse creative expression in these lofts.
(I mean after a little drinkie poo in a 3rd story stunner, we were more than ready to dance!)
No, the real dream unfolded when we strolled into yet another inspiring space and came upon Andre Miripolsky . . . THE Andre Miripolsky!!
Okay this guy is super famous and successful and all. But I've been a fan of his for 20-something years! I wear his "Fear No Art" button proudly on my little art apron. I was clueless that he was a local. I sure had no idea he lives in a loft that's open to the general public twice a year.
What a sweetheart he is. He spent tons of time with us talking about his next project (a monumental installation at the L.A. Convention Center). He signed a poster for us, let us take a dozen pictures or so (all of which I look like the goofus art groupie that I am).
If I could've danced like the girls practicing in their studio here, I would have!
I think I did become a bit of a "Wild Thing" . . . it's so embarrassing. I can't help myself - I'm awed in the presence of greatness. I'm such a lucky girl to have access to the amazing L.A. art community and someone so special to share it with.
I do believe it's true . . . "dreams don't sleep" . . . and they shouldn't - ever.
***************************************
LATE UPDATE:
Hubbie's jazzed (and apparently thirsty) after a day of wine making.
Had to pull in the iconic Taylor's Automatic Refresher for a tall cool one.
It's a well known fact in wine country that "it takes a lot of beer to make good wine"! (His will likely be great!)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)