Simple Summer Musings

©lucy's journal 8.4.10

Step Back

Recent words of resonance, reminded me: The areas of life that are most crucial for you to deal with can't be fully understood using the concepts your rational mind favors. Then this morning I read these words at Sacred Graffiti:

"Do your work then step back." -- Tao Te Ching (more ringing resonance.)

Yesterday, I attended an invigorating class on Yoga and Art Therapy. Throughout the day, I found myself fluidly participating in training exercises with little desire or need to left-brain examine anything. My heart rate slowed down. The tightness in my upper back decreased and I could feel the blood flowing from the top of my head to the tip of my toes.

When debriefing this simplistic mandala no words flowed... Until early this morning (like 3:00 a.m. early) when the following surfaced and I groggily recorded them before gratefully going back to sleep.

Encased by golden light.
My broken legs stand firmly planted in fertile soil.
Questions float in the clear blue sky, drifting on
the wind and saying, Blessed be.

The spiral is my crown - time without end.
My floating soul lives lightly tethered
between heaven and earth.
Blessed be.

"I will say to the darkness, be my light." --Psalm 139:11

P.S. For those who are familiar with the energy centers of the body, commonly known as chakras, you won't be surprised to know this mandala resulted following a meditation on the Solar Plexus Chakra.

a few new beatitudes...

blessed is the broken self,
for she shall find rest.

blessed is the one who rests,
for she will find self-love.

blessed are the ones who seek God,
for they will be held & upheld.

art & words inspired
during 3/11/10
soul care supervision group

How do you raise an artist?

You never know when memories of life will take on new meaning and perhaps shift into deeper understanding of yourself – or someone else. I have just finished reading Sunrise Sister’s recent post about an obscure artist – Orren Mixer. It is a story about art and her mother – who happens to also be my mother.

Art and my mother. Somehow the two pieces do not seem to fit, yet after reading SS’s post, I am filled with an overwhelming sadness and grief. Perhaps it is in the lack of understanding I have for my mother (who died in May, 2004) or possibly I understand in this moment more than I ever have before. I seem to feel the deeper sadness of my mother and renewed compassion. She never showed her sadness through tears. It was disguised in her perfect appearance, her critical nature and her adamant statements about good & bad, right and wrong. Was she covering a broken heart? Vanquished dreams? I have often wondered who stamped the joy out of her. Her mother? Her mother’s mother? Her children?

As I think of those women, I see scraps of fabric. Pieces of quilts and remnants of cloth cut from McCall’s patterns. I have a flash of thought. Did I pick up my love of art from these women - women who never spoke the word art with anything but scorn? For years I knew I wanted to quilt – needed to quilt even. Sunbonnet Sue –the little girl with the hidden face - called to me. Could I relate to her? I have never made my own Sunbonnet Sue, but when I began to quilt I found something that had been missing deep inside. I was passionate about it and spent hours on end precisely cutting squares and piecing them together. I love the feel of the fabric between my fingers and arranging colors like the rainbow. No one taught me how to do that. It came from an instinctive place inside.

Ah, but my mother taught me how to sew. One of my favorite places at my grandmother’s house was underneath her old pedal sewing machine. I felt safe there. I have fond memories of Mother sewing for me. Lovingly piecing together multiple patterns to create the dress of our vision. Was this her craft? Her art? Did she come alive when she created? (I am sorry to say I don't recall that joy about her.) If she was joyful, why did she stop? Why the staunch refusal to support any career for her children that was not practical? Rumor had it, our mother wanted to be an English teacher, but she married the day she graduated high school and began a family shortly thereafter. I considered a degree in Fashion Merchandising, but ultimately graduated in accounting, pushing aside a dulled vision of anything more creative.

I have been told I have a strong sense of style. I don’t know from where it came. No one taught me. I have a good eye with a camera. No one taught or encouraged that either. I am a decent writer even though the art was nearly pounded out of me with demands for perfect sentence structure and footnotes to reference “real” writer’s work. So, I wonder who pounded the art out of my mother. Because as I read my sister’s post, I know it was there. I’m not even sure my mother knew it was there. 'Fabric Arts' was not in vogue in her lifetime. It was simply sewing – something often done out of necessity. Does necessity take the fun or beauty out of our craft(s)? If my writing becomes work will I love it less?

The stakes are low as I post a few words here on a blog; and they are very high, because writing brings me joy. My soul is at stake here. My life breath depends on doing what I am called to do. So what was my mother called to do? Perhaps it was to raise three brilliant children. I wonder though if a little piece of her didn’t die somewhere along the way. Was there a spark inside her that needed air and instead got suffocated? We weren’t raised to appreciate art, but there are traces of it all throughout our lives. Tiny little seeds planted somewhere along the way, sprouting now in the children she inadvertently raised to be artists. Along with those seeds comes my hope for growing compassion and understanding of a woman who was an artist in her very own way.

You never know when a memory of your life will take on new meaning.

my mother and sister
sunbonnet sue
"reading at an early age" - me

art attack: find a face

Inspired by Kel who was inspired by WTF@ce , I am joining this month's art attack challenge to capture a photo of an everyday object that "looks" back at you. Where can you see a face?

I found this grizzled old guy watching me in Bermuda last month. Ain't he grand?

Playful Child

Summer time is the perfect time for daydreaming. Today I would love for us to consider our playful children. Not the ones that might be running around in your house or playing in the neighborhood outside, but the playful child who lives inside you. Yes, you...& me!

What follows is a simple meditation. If you would like to take part (and I sincerely hope you will), I suggest you gather some crayons, colored pencils or markers and a large sheet of plain paper to have by your side. Then consider this:

When you think of being a playful child, what comes to mind? Particular tastes, touch, smell? Popsicles on a hot summer day. The soft furr of a tiny kitten. The scratchy tongue of a puppy on your hand. Maybe it is the smell of popcorn and the anticipation of The Wonderful World of Disney or Howdy Doody or Sesame Street.

Are you inside or outside? Can you feel the grass beneath your feet? The splash of water on your toes? Perhaps you are curled up next to your mom or dad. Can you smell cookies baking in the oven or feel the excitement of your first day of school?

What things do you look forward to? A trip to the beach. A new book. Playing a game with friends. Hopscotch or jacks. Skipping rope or riding your bike and feeling the wind in your hair. Skiing in the fresh snow, building a snowman or the freedom of skimming across new ice on skates.

Where do you feel the most alive and content? Can you see it? Smell it? Touch it? Taste it? What does it sound like? Church bells. Peels of laughter. A gentle voice reading you a story or the magnificent silence as you gaze at the night’s brilliant stars. Can you sense the joy of finding the big dipper or the north star?

Does your playful child like small cozy spaces? Covers thrown over the table to make a tent? Snuggling in bed with a flashlight and a Nancy Drew book? Perhaps you prefer the great outdoors. The expanse of the beach or a mountain trail while sitting atop your daddy’s shoulders. Sharing the great wildness with your heavenly Father. The Grand Canyon. Miles of desert or forest or ocean or running free through endless fields of wheat or corn.

Maybe this is an actual experience or maybe it’s only that special place in your dreams. When you close your eyes and feel the senses of freedom and childhood, what comes to mind? Consider the playful child. What does she/he look like? Does playful have a taste? A smell? Use all your senses. Can you hear it? Do your fingers reach for something to touch and hold? Let your imagination flow. Be in that place where anything is possible. No fear. Only love surrounds you. Taste it. Touch it. Smell it. Feel it. See it. Know it.

And now, holding all that you have just experienced, I encourage you to use your non-dominant hand and DRAW it. Don’t think about it. Tell the inner critique you're not listening today. Just pick up a crayon and draw. What colors are this image? Let them flow onto the paper. Hold that space and be the child who knows only freedom and safety and love. Let that child and her experience flow out onto the paper. After all, she/he deserves a chance to come out and play, don't ya think?

(and then, of course, let me know what you discovered! Happy dreaming!!! ☺)

playful child ksh, age 4
lucy's drawing 8/13/09 (no need to worry about your own results. isn't mine beautiful?!?!?)

Voiceless Chick - part 2

There is something really incredible about using the arts to break open areas of our life that might otherwise remain stuck in our heads. When I consider Voiceless Chick, I can give you all sorts of psychological reasons about why she is in my life – and they are highly evolved assessments...just ask me ☺. So, one might think that with all of that knowledge, I could keep VC from showing up. Unfortunately it’s not quite that simple. The understanding is helpful and as I mentioned yesterday, I realize it is important for me to listen when my stuck chicks show up.

The beauty of using arts such as collage, journaling and poetry to help process is that they give us a view from a new angle. (Right brain. Left brain. You know the drill.) I have been using Julia Cameron’s morning pages for more than five years now. Some days they feel like drivel and other times if I stick with it I find words flowing out that were buried deep inside. Often they feel otherworldly as though a Source greater than I is writing.

If I follow the process, there is often a visible shift in the voice in which I write. This happened while contemplating VC. The portion I shared yesterday was written in first person. The continuation shared here has a shift to second person.

You are just a little girl.
Close your eyes and breathe.
Listen to your inner voice.
It is strong and clear.
Listen and calm yourself with
your inner voice of authority.

My hand is here.
You are safe.
I hear your pleas.
Yes, my child,
You have a voice.
A voice within you that you and
I can hear.

You are not crazy.
You will not disappear.
You are made of light.
Pure light.
Lucy of the light.

Yes, they may talk and
whisper behind your back, but
You have a voice.
You have reclaimed it.
You can be calm in the midst of this storm.
Your voice is valid.

You have hands to reach down and
take the gag from your mouth.
You have tools.
Inner strength and authority.
You have me to help you speak.
I spoke and you listened.

So, what do you make of this? Do you think I need to be committed to a mental hospital since I am hearing voices? Or is this something to which you can relate? How do the arts play into your spiritual walk? Who might be your stuck chicks waiting to receive a voice?

partial collage by lucy 7.31.09

lucy's personal empowerment day

It is starting to appear that February 27 is some kind of great empowerment day for me. Last year on this date, I was winging my way across the Atlantic for my grand Paris adventure. Today...I conquered the incessantly running toilet in our bathroom. Not quite the same, you might say. Well, I don't know. There is something pretty magical about saving a $100 plus charge for a plumber house call, purchasing a part for $2.70 and completing the whole process solo! I am pretty dang proud of myself.

The rest of the day held its own kind of magic too. I had early morning correspondence with some of my favorite people then went for a long overdue hair appointment. In fact, it may have been the new coif that convinced the hardware store salesman to walk me through the plumbing repair free of charge. The sun was gloriously shining here, too, which was a welcome relief after the blowing rain and snow we have experienced the rest of the week.

So, with new bouncy hair and no dastardly roots showing, I conquered my plumbing dilemma and then promptly paid myself with a new piece of art that Sunrise Sister tempted me with. I completed a few more items on my to do list and decided to walk down to our little town center to the bank and post office. After completing those tasks, I strolled by the movie theater and noticed that "The Reader" had opened today and the next showing was in 20 minutes. What's an empowered girl to do? You guessed it! Go to the movies! I was not disappointed and was only confirmed that Kate Winslet is the one to perform my memoir.

Now, I'm home with dinner in the oven and a beautiful salad awaiting my dear husband's arrival. My repair work today was in his bathroom, so he is going to be thrilled...at least I hope he is. Like I said, it may not be Paris...but life is pretty darn good on this side of the ocean too!

Yes, I am easily amused. How about you? What little pleasures brighten up your day? Where do you find empowerment? Enjoyment? Contentment?

top photo: from rodin museum - paris
bottom: http://www.katherinetreffinger.com/

exposed

“But for most art there is no client, and in making it you lay bare a truth you perhaps never anticipated: that by your very contact with what you love, you have exposed yourself to the world.” ---from Art and Fear

My days are full and good. Exciting even. The book is coming to fruition. After yesterday’s initial brief announcement, there are requests for more than 20 copies. Oh my. This makes me really nervous. I feel exposed! What if they don’t like it? If they feel ripped off? What if they don’t “get it”? What if it looks horrible? The voices battle. The inner critic says, “Dump it!” The strong me says, “Spread the word!”

This book is me. It is my form of grace. My grace is sufficient for you. Grace has supervised this project. The molding and shaping throughout the book. Add more pages. It’s not enough. Will it ever be enough? And so, I stop and declare. This IS enough. I get to choose and this feels right. It feels sufficient…maybe even more than sufficient ☺.

I see the trails of my life throughout this book. Soltura. Family. Amazing Grace. Beauty. Form. Movement. Sunday School. Mars Hill. The bus. Formative moments. Brazos and Lakebay. It’s all there. Mexico. Bermuda. Seattle. Texas. The desert. The beach. Night and day.

This is the beginning. Oh sh*t, here we go again, Lord. You are amazing beyond words and I am scared to death. Is it fear of failure or success? What if I am successful? It is my dream and it terrifies me! And, it thrills me! My chest is tightening. Breathe. Be still and know that I am God. Slow down. Breathe. My grace is sufficient for you.

photo by lucy from seattle sculpture park 11.17.08

art making & prayer

Fall into the Mystery placed before you--
the one you will become will catch you.

--saying found in Lectio Divina

I awoke today with this collage beckoning to be created...or was it beckoning to create me? Either way, this was my morning prayer. It shall not soon leave me.

what are your "nevers"?

“My hands hold safely to my dreams
Clutching tightly not one has fallen
So many years I've shaped each one
Reflecting my heart showing who I am”

--Barlow Girl “Surrender”

Yesterday I wrote about being alive and inside that post were many questions about what holds me back. This morning as I awakened really early I could feel the promptings of the still small voice. I lay in bed with images of art and activities pouring through my mind. Finally I surrendered to the morning and got out of my cozy bed even though it was still pitch dark outside. I gathered my journal and tiptoed downstairs so as not to wake my sleeping husband and then I began to write. The lists of the day tumbled onto the paper mixed in with all of those questions of why I hold back when it comes to art—to MY art.

I have great plans. I have books to help me, supplies to use, ideas in abundance, but still I wait. “It will be a waste of time.. money…effort.” And then there is the flip side of the story. I am impatient. I want to hurry the process…to get to the end result and not let the art create me. Yikes! Sometimes I feel like such a mess!!

And so, I wrote and wrestled and this little voice kept saying, “Go paste the page onto the board.” (Several weeks ago I bought new supplies for creating and have tentatively been considering working with them. The board has been painted in a couple of colors and a few days ago I started considering adding text.) In the midst of all of my wrestling was another train of thought to “practice saying yes”--a theme I have been enjoying in Patti Digh’s new book. So, even while I am writing about “saying yes” I am ignoring the prompts to “paste the text on the board”. I am saying “no” to my art—again! And then God in all of her creative graciousness prompted me a little more directly—my pen ran out of ink—my last words being, “Go paste the page…” ☺

Now God gets even pushier here. I went to the book that I have designated as my “practice” pages (i.e. I can tear it up with great abandon.) It is a really heady book (not), called “The Devil in the Junior League.” ☺ I recalled it contained a few lists and since lists seem to be a theme for me these days I hopped right on it. Not paying much regard to the list content, I tore out a page and then pared it down to a manageable size and began to apply acrylic medium. When I flipped it over to paste the back, this is what I found:

“Unwilling to share any of that, I launched into the points that my mother and the charming women at Little Miss Debutante had drummed into my head, otherwise known as the Four Nevers:

1. Never dominate a conversation.
2. Never speak in a voice that can be heard more than three feet away.
3. Never do anything that anyone would notice if they were more than three feet away.
4. Never boast of your accomplishments.”

It might as well have included one more that said, “NEVER MAKE ART!” It was like all of the voices of my past (and evidently present) were rolled into one and printed on that page that I had chosen “by accident.” And so, after a few deep breaths, a couple of tears and a good laugh with God, I tiptoed back upstairs to get my computer so I could record this little encounter (and capture the words of “the page”, because you never know what may happen next with that little piece of art.)

And, the promptings did not end there, of course!! My computer screensaver is a nifty little thing that randomly displays album covers from my i-tunes list. I noticed a cover by Barlow Girl and wondered what music she sings. (I have lots of music given to me and rarely do I remember artists or song titles unlike my dear husband who can recall every song he has heard since 1960 ☺.) So, I found Barlow Girl’s one song I own and it, of course, is titled “Surrender.” Need I say more?

I would love to hear your response to my morning’s events or even better your own encounters and wrestlings with the inner critic, God, art, whatever! Or maybe you would like to share your personal “Four Nevers?” I hope you will say, "Yes!"

photos from pere lachaise cemetary--paris, 2.08

Merry Christmas to All!!!

Christmas blessings to all of my wonderful readers! You have made my life richer this year with your presence (and that goes for all of you, too, who insist on remaining anonymous!!) Maybe today is the day to screw up your courage and stop for a moment to say "Merry Christmas, Lucy!"

Peace to you and yours.

collage by lucy of lucy 12.22.07

Advent Journey Continues

So, what do you do when you have too many words, thoughts and events running through your head that it would take pages and pages to even begin? I realized this morning that when that happens to me often a poem will pop out. Advent continues to be an amazing journey for me. I have been very nearly overwhelmed by the thoughtful and thought-provoking responses I have received on my last few posts. I am blessed by each of you in ways you likely cannot imagine. I am grateful. I am humbled. I am pondering.

This graphic is a collage card I made last week at an evening workshop. I am still unraveling what this art has to say to me. The poem is one of a continuing journey; weaving times, places, people, & events in and out. It seems appropriate to preface it with these words of Ronald Rolheiser, given to me in a post comment from Gabrielle.

"Advent should not be confused with Lent. The crimson-purple of Advent is not the black-purple of Lent. The former symbolizes yearning and longing, the latter repentence. The spirituality of Advent is about carrying tension without prematurely resolving it so that we do not short-circuit the fullness that comes from respecting love's rhythms. Only when there is enough heat will there be unity. To give birth to what's divine requires the slow patience of gestation."

she is most interesting to me
gazing at me through pools of brown
lovely eyes aglow
do not be afraid
it is a time of shedding & rebirth
an awakening
creative & colossal
shining in the shadows
hidden light revealed
ancient wisdom in 5 year old eyes
persistent
alert
vigorous
vigilant
vibrant & watchful

she is most interesting to me
poppies in hand
serpent looming
loving
entwined with god
one god
lives rippling outward in time
embracing the whole
the beloved
ancestors dance the bridge between day & night
angels float in shadow bright
golden shimmering
shadows joining light

she is most interesting to me
crown donned with flowers white
lucy of the light
patron saint of blind
mother earth
rebirth & new life
speak of shadows feared
step into them & see
they are filled with light
shadowy brilliance
yearning
longing
advent
waiting
pausing
reflecting
sorting through life

yes, she is most interesting to me

Mosaic

This morning I awoke thinking of the energy of the earth…of God…of humanity. Are we really all connected as one? Like a beautiful mosaic? I am surrounded by a community of seekers. Why and how do we find each other? Is it by accident? By choice? By a power greater than we can even imagine?

Surrounded by seekers of God…of creativity…of wholeness. Are they not one in the same?

Consider the following thoughts:

“As individual stones, we can do little with them
except compare them and judge their beauty and value. When, however, all these little stones are brought together in one big mosaic portraying the face of Christ, who would ever question the importance of any one of them? That’s community, a fellowship of little people who together make God visible in the world.” --Henri Nouwen

“For as the body is only as healthy as its individual cells, the world is only as healthy as its individual souls.” --Mark Nepo

“The search for contentment is, therefore, not merely a self-preserving and self-benefiting act, but also a generous gift to the world.” –Elizabeth Gilbert

My creativity heals myself and others. There is a divine plan of goodness for my work. –lucy

And, last but not least…a repeat from yesterday’s post:

"Compassionate toward yourself, you reconcile all beings in the world" Lao-Tzu

"Across the centuries, we have this timeless medicine: Live directly, wait, and care for your soul as if it were the whole world." Mark Nepo

I am blessed to be a part of this community of seekers. Today, may you care for your own soul as gently as if it were that of another.

'Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind'; and, 'Love your neighbor as yourself.'
--Jesus - Luke 10:27

photo by bill ©

Affirmations

Who would have thought that a blog entry called Blurts would be one of my most responded to posts? Could it be that we are most comfortably interconnected through the inner critic of our minds? That voice that tells us we are not really writers, painters, artists? In the aforementioned post, I shared with you a walk down memory lane and posted my "blurts" (negative self-talk/beliefs) of four years ago. I wish I could say that they no longer exist, but alas that ugly critic still pops up more often than I like. However, thanks to the topic of this post, Affirmations, I have at least moved forward a tiny bit.

Julia Cameron author of The Artist's Way says "if we can become one-tenth as good at positive self-talk as we are at negative self-talk, we will notice an enormous change." Enormous? Maybe. Four years ago I could barely write for myself and now have the courage to share with others on a regular basis. Maybe I have taken bigger steps than I realized. But, I digress.

The challenge for today is to make peace with our blurts and turn them into positive affirmations. So take a look at the previous post and see what happens when we listen to that kinder, gentler voice who wants us to succeed.

Here are my responses:

1) I am only 47 (half my lifetime) and I can already eat, walk, read & write!
2) I am smart. I can learn to write. I can write!
3) Follow God. He will give me the time.
4) Lame excuse. I am willing to learn to let myself create.
5) My creativity heals myself and others. There is a divine plan of goodness for my work.
6) As I listen to the creator within, I am led.
7) Through use of my creativity, I serve God. God will show me what is 'productive.'
8) Artists are brilliant. They can experience and share things in a way no one else can.

Wow. A little older, maybe a little wiser, but the affirmations feel so much truer than those silly old blurts. I feel stronger already. So, lovely readers, here's your chance, bring on those positive affirmations! I can't wait to read!!!

photo by janey

Blurts

Do you ever find yourself caught between the premises of living in the present moment and planning for the future? It is a constant balancing act for me. Today I am trying to put some order to the creative projects that are percolating in my brain. Yesterday I started reading a book which will help me with a couples workshop on which I am collaborating. I realized that if I do a chapter a day, I will be finished in 10 days which seems quite manageable.

The bigger theme(s) that are stirring around is my desire to write something more tangible (whatever that means) than daily ponderings like those you read here. So, this morning I decided to start traveling through my journals that I began nearly four years ago when I was introduced to The Artist's Way. I can see this is going to be a long process, because I only got four pages into it before I found something I wanted to share here.

One of the early exercises is to write the "blurts" that come into your head when you think about being creative. So, to kick off my venture backwards into not-so-distant time, here are my blurts:

1) I'm too old to start something new.
2) I don't know anything about writing.
3) People will think I'm crazy.
4) Where will I find the time?
5) I don't have the right computer to write on or the right place to write.
6) No one will want to hear what I have to say.
7) I don't know how to get started.
8) This may be a waste of time. I should do something more productive.
9) Smart girls aren't artistic/creative & artistic girls are definitely airheads.

Those are my blurts. What are yours today?

photo by janey

Self Portrait

Dreams and collage are filling much space in my sleeping and waking hours. This self-portrait created itself on Saturday. For today I shall just share the image. I'd love to know what it evokes in you. I am discovering it has multiple, ever-changing layers of meaning for me! Kind of like life I guess ☺. Happy Monday!

Where Creativity & Spirituality Meet

prompted by a lovely post @ abbey of the arts

My art is where the world slips away and comes more fully into focus. It is where I get out of my own way. To disappear in one sense, but in another to become more fully visible and alive than in any other area of my life.

The wind and I become one. The flame burns within my heart and I am consumed yet not consumed at all. The words flow freely like water down a babbling spring or rushing like a powerful torrent over the edge of a mighty waterfall.

I am firmly rooted in the ground. My feet blending into the earth as I spring forth tall and majestic like the mighty oak reaching toward the heavens. I am the gentle breeze softly whispering words of love and care. My power is building, twisting, twirling.

The wind and I become one. And so the circle continues. I am timeless, beautiful, power-filled and unique. True to my core and essence of who I am created to be. I am the earth. The Mother. Matter. Earth. Wind. Fire. Water.

I am whole. Complete. Perfect. Me.

photo by h3images--who says in photographs what i cannot say in words.

a masterpiece unfolding

What would it be like if you lived each day, each breath, as a work of art in progress? Imagine that you are a masterpiece unfolding, every second of every day, a work of art taking form with every breath.
-- Thomas Crum

Creative Challenge

Christine at Abbey of the Arts has a way of getting my creative juices flowing. This time it is through a challenge issued by Magpie Girl. The assignment is to take a photo and alter it. Mine took on the form of a collage. I began my thinking too much and planning it out...the results are in an unfinished crumple on my desk. Then I just started ripping away at a couple of magazines. (I gave myself a short time limit and let the images find me.)

My creative time allotment for today is nearing an end, so I can't spend as much time with this image as I would like, but I have a feeling it has lots to say to me. I'd love to know what you see. And if you're up to it...take the challenge here.



collage by lucy