I just spent my weekend doing what I love more than almost anything: creating a piece of art that inspired wonder and joy in the people who saw it. I worked with my friend, Kristi Gurski, to create an art installation on a lamppost as part of Kaleido Family Arts Festival's '24-Hour Deck Out a Lamppost Competition.' It was a lot of work but I was so happy with how it turned out and I would do it all again to see the way peoples' faces lit up when they caught sight of it.
I met Dallas at a Creative Mornings event shortly after she had moved to Edmonton. Right away it was clear that we had lots to talk about and I've really enjoyed getting to know her as she settles into our city. She's very generous with her wisdom about creativity, social media, and running a small business, and, of course, she takes beautiful photographs. I can't wait for our next tea date!
Tomorrow a yearlong project comes to a close. Last September I started sending out weekly emails to a small group of people who agreed to join me in an experiment. I wanted to see if I could confront my inner critic and my fear of drawing and find a way to make drawing feel fun again. I've spent the last twelve months reading drawing books and blogs, obsessively searching for drawing quotes, writing about drawing, and, of course, drawing. It has been quite an adventure. This last year I've tried new materials, visited new places, and drawn subjects that I probably never would have otherwise. I've dealt with frustration, boredom, and disappointment and I've enjoyed wonder, delight, and a sense of flow.
The best we can do-the only thing we can do-is to be happy with art, with a creative practice, and with a life, that is good enough.This doesn't mean we shouldn't strive or reach. It doesn't mean we shouldn't push our boundaries, make bold moves, or shoot for the stars. It means that amidst the striving and reaching and pushing, we also need to find a way to accept things as they are right now.
I have ideas about how I want to spend my time and they almost never match reality. But I try, week after week, to impose a sense of order on my days to help me feel like I'm accomplishing something and moving forward. As I've written about before, routine and habit help to cement our creative practice. Without this structure, our ideas float off and become lost in the flurry of our days, in the "wreck of time."This is what my daily routine looks like.
These last few months have been tough for the world. At times like these, it's easy to believe that we're surrounded by hate and fear on every side. While my heart breaks every time I hear about another terrorist attack or hate crime, I also have a relentless hope in humanity and in our ability to overcome these struggles. Albert Einstein said that "The most important decision we make is whether we believe we live in a friendly or hostile universe."
I recently realized that it's this train of thoughts that follows from the feeling of envy that is destructive, rather than the envy itself. As a result, I'm working on dealing with envy in a constructive and positive way. Because these negative thoughts are based on stories that I tell myself, I can usually find my way through the negative feelings by examining and questioning these stories, and the beliefs that they're based on.
Every time I move to a new home and have to set up a new studio, it takes some time to figure out, to find a rhythm and a system. Finally, after a few days of knee-deep hard work, a lot of help from my partner and months of tweaking, my studio feels clean, functional, and inspiring. I walk by and can't wait to get in there and start making something.
often wish I could spend my summers in a cabin in the woods, or by a beach with nothing to do besides walk, write, make stuff and stare at the sky. Instead, I'm slowly learning to slow down and make space for the small wonders that summer brings. At the same time, I'm learning to appreciate all the seasons in their own right, so that summer doesn't bear the full weight of my desires and expectations.
I have a confession to make: from elementary through high school, I was a straight A student. If you asked anyone to describe me during those years they probably would have said 'quiet' and 'smart'. For a long time, that was how I saw myself as well, with my identity being completely shaped by my ability to get the right answers.
