the deliberate life

Thoughts on This Little Space

I’ve been spending a lot of time wondering what to do with this little space of mine. There have been times that I’ve been a prolific blogger, yes, but more often than not, this page is unattended. It’s always been a goal of mine to write here regularly because I really do like to write. That has always been my intention … to write, whether it be a funny little story, a thought I had, or just something I had to get off my chest.

One of the biggest struggles I encountered last year was getting swept away by the online world. The Internet can mess with your identity (literally and figuratively) and give you false priorities. The more I read beauty blogs, the more I thought I needed to be spending most of my earnings on high-end products. The truth? I love makeup, but I hate spending money on it. I’m a proud Wet-n-Wild and E.L.F. wearing girl (though I have recently made the decision to wean myself off of such chemical-filled products and will be replacing my makeup as I run out of what I already have). As I saw running get really popular I thought that I should become a runner too. The truth? There’s probably nothing I hate more in this world than to run. Yes, I desperately need to exercise, but I need to find something that I enjoy doing (ahem, kettlebells!) so that I actually do it. Getting so caught up in what everyone else appeared to be doing made me feel miserable about myself. 

I can go on and on, but you get the idea. I wanted to model my blog after some of those that I admired. Stick to certain themes! It will work, I told myself. It didn’t. Obviously. And it’s no criticism to those who it does work for. I obviously liked it because I attempted to do the same. It just isn’t me. I think we all started our blogs with the hopes of sharing a bit of ourselves with the world … to carve out a tiny little place where we could be ourselves. I think we owe it to ourselves to hold true to that initial hope.

So what does this mean for this space of mine? It means I’ve re-opened a world of possibilities for it. It means I don’t care if the posts are cohesive. I’ll share what I want to share … my art, the food I make, the thoughts I have. It’s time to reclaim my space.

 

A special “thank you” to my dear friend Amy, whose post here inspired this. You continue to be an inspiration to me. 

Opening up to Vulnerability

"Growth"-Acrylic and Sumi ink on canvas.

I've been painting up a storm lately, mainly due to a lot of inspiring conversations with my friend and coworker, Jenn. She's been encouraging me to share more of my artwork with her. When I finished this painting last week, I couldn't wait to share it with her, and then with all of you.

    However, when it came time to write the blog post, I froze up a little. I tend to share quite a bit of my personal life on my blog, but there's something about sharing artwork that makes me feel so vulnerable. I think what it comes down to is that I feel that because of my job, people have high expectations for my artwork. It's a struggle that I need to overcome, and the only way I can do that is to share and to allow myself to feel vulnerable. Because, as Brene Brown always reminds us, it's when we open ourselves up to vulnerability, we also open ourselves up to the greatest potential for joy.

Desire to Inspire

You may have heard some of the buzz on the Internet. It’s finally time to celebrate the upcoming launch of Christine Mason Miller’s new book, Desire to Inspire. I was so honored and humbled when Christine first asked me to be among one of 20 contributors. I spied the names of everyone else and couldn’t help but question myself. Me? What did I have to offer? I guess the title of the book says what I had: the desire to inspire, the desire to guide others in creating a meaningful life. The book isn’t out yet, but a sneak peek is available on Amazon. It’s a beautiful book, and I’d think that even if I wasn’t a part of it.

            It sounds silly since I’m an editor, but to be a part of an actual book, to see my face on the back cover and my art and words are on display … it’s really too great of feeling to put into words. My passion has always been books, and to actually be in one? Wow. I can’t express it. And I can't express my gratitude to Christine for seeing something in me and inviting me to be a part of what's sure to be an inspirational book for so many.

            I’ll be joining Christine and many of the other contributors at the official launch party on December 15^th. If you’re in the LA-area, I’d love to see your happy faces there. You’ll also want to visit Christine’s blog each day as she counts down to the release with interviews and giveaways.

The Best Advice You'll Ever Receive

"Instructions for living a life. Pay attention. Be astonished. Tell about it."
 —  Mary Oliver

This wonderful quote is my signature on my emails, and it's been surprising how many people have written me back just to comment on it. It really strikes a chord with people. It certainly did for me.

How many of us live our lives is nothing close to the way Mary Oliver advises. In actuality, it's more like: Go into something with exceedingly high expectations. Be disappointed. Complain about it.

That's sad, isn't it? When we place so many expectations on things (including ourselves), we're never going to be anything but disappointed. That's no life I want to live, and I realized this about a year ago, when I would overplan everything I did, and when things didn't turn out the way I had hoped and expected them to, I whined. For such a supposed "happy" person, I sure spent a lot of time unhappy and complaining.

Things changed when I allowed myself to just show up. I didn't put pressure on myself or anyone else to act a certain way, or do a certain thing. Just by showing up and letting myself live in that particular moment, I was able to notice little things that made me unexplicably happy. And wouldn't you know? I started finding that the most unplanned moments turned out to be the most astonishing?

That's the secret to being astonished. You have to let yourself be.

On Trusting the Mess

I’m a firm believer that the Universe gives you exactly what you need when you need it most. As I drove to Christine’s studio for Sabrina Ward Harrison’s Trust the Mess workshop I was experiencing a lot of unrest. I couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but I knew I hadn’t been feeling like myself in quite some time. Things were just off.

            As I sat on the floor, journal in hand, free-writing to the prompts given to us by Sabrina I lost it. The tears flowed. Emotions that I didn’t even know I had been feeling came out on the page. I turned to the girl next to me and read it all out loud, unable to hold the tears back once again. She reached over and gave me a huge hug and in that moment went from being a stranger to a friend.

            It is really hard to describe all that went on this weekend to those who didn’t attend. Sabrina touched us deeply through heartfelt writing prompts and poetry. We painted on giant sheets of paper using just our hands. We sanded. We gessoed. We cried. We laughed. We formed a tribe. I know my words will never give it justice.

            What I can say is that I’ll forever be thankful for Christine, who made it all happen, and for Sabrina who gave so much of herself so that we could in turn, give ourselves. I’ll always treasure each and every woman who was there. To listen without judgment is one of the greatest gifts you can give someone, and every one of these special women did this, and I thank them for that.

 

And most importantly, I know what I first perceived as a breakdown, was really a breakthrough.

The Process

I lovingly refer to my collection of unfinished projects as victims of "crafty ADD." I know that's not really the case though. I don't really need to see a project finished because to me, it's all about the process of creating something.

Last week I had the pleasure of visiting Christine Mason Miller for an afternoon of fun in her studio. I was a bit worried about what Christine would think when she saw me do something on my canvas and proceed to cover it right up. And then I noticed it's exactly what she does too. We talked about the courage it takes to cover up something, or rip it apart. At one point, this painting was near completion, and then I looked at it, grabbed some white paint and again went right over it, covering up the words I had painted so carefully. Talk about liberating.

    So now this painting sits in my office, across from my desk, awaiting my next urge to slop some paint on, or cover it in powerful words. And for now, I take delight in some of the details that I know I just can't cover up.

Thank you Christine for an inspiring afternoon, and reminding me that art (and life) is really about the process.

You have your perfect moments

You have your perfect moments ...

... and I'll have mine.

Stop searching and start living.

(Even if living means not having time to reach for the "good" camera. This moment had to be captured.)

I am not Fragile

You'll find this on the inside of my new journal. Lately, I've been consumed by thoughts of strength ... my own and others'. The truth is, I've lived most of my life cautiously, afraid of ... I don't even know what. I over think a lot of my actions and decisions. And I'm realizing how much I've missed out on because I've been afraid. Afraid that I may embarrass myself, or fail, or a number of other things.

But I've realized something ...

No matter what is thrown at me, I will not break. I know that within the depths of my being I am stronger than I realize, and that strength will always get me through even the worst of times, and help me appreciate the best of times.

Life .. we should all be seizing it. Because we are not fragile and we most certainly will not break.

Putting Myself on Display

Painting is a very personal process for me. Each aspect says something about who I was at the moment the painting was created. The colors, the textures, the found papers ... they all say something, and because of that I haven't shown many people my paintings.

    When I paint, I tend to do a lot of layering with dark paint colors and thick paper. Elements that I really like are usually exposed long enough for me to enjoy them before I quickly cover them up with a wash of acrylics. What does that say about me? Needless to say, I've always painted alone.

   

My most recent painting, shown here, was done surrounded by a wonderful group of inspiring women. It was really my first time creating in a group. I felt comfortable, inspired, and most of all, I felt free to express this side of me, and I think the tone of this painting says a lot. Despite a wash of white acrylics, every layer is visible, and the colors are noticeably lighter. I'm no longer afraid to show this side of me. This is me, on display, for all to see.

All by Hand

The Bread Bible has consumed much of our weekend. After much talk, but not quite so much follow through, we've embarked on a new, very important to us, food journey. We've begun to take great strides to support our local farmers and growers, and to cut out all processed foods from our diet. Because of our love of cooking, and our passion for food, it was a very logical step for us to take. The biggest issue, however, will be bread. At the recommendation of our good friends, Rich and Shannon, we borrowed this book from the library, and tagged just about every page. As I type, we have our first loaf of white bread rising, and a batch of butter biscuits cooling.

    It's a lot of work, but gosh, it feels good. It feels like art to me. Taking a few ingredients, combining them together in a certain way, and turning all the bits into something. Much like knitting a few stitches, or making a few strokes with a paintbrush is therapeutic, there is something in the act of mixing, kneading, and shaping that touches the soul. There's no better feeling than taking bits and pieces of almost nothing and turning into something. 

    I'm very proud of our homemade life.