In good ratio.

My greatest teacher all along turned out to be my life. It’s not the answer this prompt question might be looking for. Truly, I have had some great teachers who really impacted my scholastic self concept at key moments over the years.

But looking back over a full and busy life, it is experience that I’ve learned the most from.

Sorry to bore with all this artist talk.

Being an artist in this century is a constantly changing steep learning curve. Seeking a fulfilling beautiful life along side, provides continuous opportunities to learn. There are no clear rules. My friend once said “It’s like the Wild West out there! You just kind of make it up as you go along.”

Isn’t this true of life in general for some people? Art or no art, I think that I would always be outside the box, making it all up.

Life has taught me to be okay with this. I spent most of my younger days trying to be in a box, THE box, the one everyone seemed to want me in. I was often upset when it proved to be too hard. Life showed me gradually over time, that it was perfectly fine to be a person such as myself, even if it made others worry or uncomfortable.

My way, my approach, might seem strange, (hence all the well meaning advice) but life showed me that it’s really perfect for me to live intuitively. A younger me thought I had to change at a basic level, an experienced me understands that its so much easier to work with myself. To be on my own side.

When I finally accepted that I was an artist, like it or not, it wasn’t like everything fell seamlessly into place. Life didn’t play out that way. At some point I also had to also learn that I wasn’t a victim of any of it.

I learned this one lesson over and over and am still learning, I am not, and never have been a victim of my circumstances, of life. Life is a patient teacher, even though it marches on, hardly waiting for me to catch up. Life won’t give me lemonade. Lemons yes, but it’s true, what they say about what I make of it, another important lesson. (Knowing me, I want lemon squares instead, anyway).

Today I am surrounded by sold and favorite paintings of mine. A fleeting moment for me to take in.

Life is teaching me something about this part as well.

I wonder how this is going to work out (in my favor)?

Hmmm…I wonder… has become my latest response.

How will this new issue play out?

Because life hasn’t stopped tossing me challlenges. The other night, I had five separate concerns weighing heavily on my mind, making it of course impossible to sleep. My brain jumped around for hours as I tried to breathe and relax. I KNOW it doesn’t help me to ruminate. I KNOW to direct my thinking, I even know HOW to, but life man, it’s tricky.

I ended up watching comedy bits on my phone at 3am because that was the only way to distract myself and lighten my mood.

The next morning nothing had changed. I had those same complications and a full day. I did not feel like getting up. I managed to bribe myself out of bed with breakfast (which I rarely eat).

My thirty minute meditation yielded maybe two minutes of calm. Maybe.

In my hurry to my first appointment, I had somehow forgotten about the giant painting still not fitting in the back of the truck. Too big, heavy and awkward, I couldn’t remove it by myself, so there it still was, accompanying me on a slow journey across town. (no freeway today)

I probably forgot about the painting because of the first miracle. Which was tiny, but unexpected. The pending resolution of one of the five, the second biggest issue.

The next miracle had nothing to do with anything. Neither did the third.

Then, this unexpected thing happened.

I SOLD THE PAINTING!!

I was late for my lunch event, because of the painting and parking. I wasn’t hungry at all, thanks to breakfast, plus I’m pretty sure I arrived disheveled, my makeup a little cried off, (thank you, miracle number two), not to mention, no sleep.

Of course I was in an amazing frame of mind. I’d witnessed four miracles and it was barely noon.

I’m now wondering how it all happened. I was there, but I couldn’t tell you…

I was at a prestigious art gallery opening the other day and got the opportunity to chat with the artist. The show spanned years and obvious periods for this artist, probably twenty to thirty paintings altogether.

I asked him a handful of questions, but the one that I remember was:

How did he get all his paintings from Los Angeles to San Diego? His answer: he drove them himself, in his van.

He was an older artistic guy, not a mover. It’s not glamorous, but moving around art is part of it. I’m actually really enjoying having a little truck. It’s been very handy.

This giant painting however, does not fit! It’s a bit of a bummer. It doesn’t fit the house it was intended for, it’s too big for me to move by myself. It’s too big to drive across the country to my daughters (who would gladly take it). Its even too big for the gallery.

It’s actually one of my favorite paintings. One that I didn’t set out to paint, but seemed to announce itself. A swan. Such a perfect symbol.

So size.

That’s what’s wrong. I really feel this painting has a home somewhere, but where?!

I’m reluctant to put it back in storage, though I have to.

The less practical side of creating art feels like it’s breathing down my neck today. No one understands why I made such a large painting. I don’t. It just sort of happened. It’s done now, too late for the regret I’m feeling…

Again I get to practice keeping my heart open. (because a giant painting that doesn’t fit, is not worth closing over).

SO

Lots of deep breathing. And a tiny measure of wonder, as in, I wonder how this giant problem will play out…

L U C K Y

Lately, things seem to be working out pretty much in my favor.

It’s been such a funny constant that even when things look problematic, I think to myself, well, however this rolls out, it’ll come out good for me. Weirdly, it has played out like this several times.

What if this is my new normal?

We landed back in CA, love our home here, love our busyness, love that so many fun opportunities keep presenting themselves, our departure keeps getting delayed…

What is happening?

I did decide back in December to change my mind about some things. Somehow the concept that I am not at the mercy of outside circumstances, that instead, I can decide to influence my own mood, sunk in. I realized, like I read in The Untethered Soul, nothing is worth closing my heart over.

I wonder if that made this difference? I’m not saying it’s all easy, it’s not always roses. I’ve had plenty of chances to practice, but I will say that I’m improving.

Apparent improvement feels lucky to me

There was this book that I read.

It made a convincing argument that if you wanted to be an artist, you had to be a confident person.

I was young.

I wanted to be cool, and confident, and an artist…at least I thought I did. I mean who didn’t?

All I knew for sure was that I was ‘good’ at art. It felt like an impossible distance from my assessment of myself to what the book seemed to be suggesting, though.

I guess that’s how it became my impossible quest. I NEEDED to be confident. I wanted to be. According to the book, it was necessary.

Art in college was competitive. The instructors pulled no punches. Even if I could keep up with raw lucky talent, we all were encouraged to compare ourself, our work, while being pushed to do new, never done before assignments and then criticed. My own small measure of confidence was chipped away at. I emerged feeling like less of a potential artist than I did going in. Definitely less confident.

Finally, after years of living with this stumbling block, someone suggested to me that confidence is a state, not a personality trait (as I had always thought). Everyone has confident moments doing things they’ve done a million times. We all get better at certain things and become confident while doing them.

Some people seem to have a natural tendency towards bravado. They give off confident vibes. (many teenagers master this). They seem to know before they actually do. This fake it ‘til you make it persona used to fool me all of the time. I believed for a good stretch of my life that most everyone was better than me at most everything, and if they weren’t, they believed they were so strongly that it didn’t matter. My skill or knowledge was easily trumped by another’s bravado.

When I finally understood the state of confidence, I had had enough experience to step back and really see this. Bravado or confidence could be conjured. I too could create this state of mind anytime, anywhere. In fact, I already had.

Lots of times. Without realizing it.

This shift in perspective changed everything. Where I once believed that I could never BE an artist, sure I could do art, but not as an artist, I finally saw that I actually was one all along.

It seems pretty silly now, this little distinction, but it is interesting how self assessment can play a powerful role in how one approaches the doing of things.

What activities do I lose myself in? Easy question. Anything creative, art related. Research. Staging. Hours fly by in minutes. Is that losing myself? Or finding?

I like this question because it hints at the idea of flow state. The falling out of time state. What happens when we lose awareness of our physical bodies, or things around us and we collapse fully into whatever we are focused on.

When I was first ‘diagnosed’ with ADHD I read a lot about the condition. One of the things that stuck out was the constant mention of what was referred to “hyper focus” Ironically, people with ADHD have two tendencies. One is to jump from thing to thing (multitasking is born of this). The other is to over focus on one thing. I felt like they were onto me, and yes, those are my super powers.

Things weren’t moving fast enough for anyone to see these traits as good back then, but luckily the pace has picked up and I don’t even think about ADHD as anything more than a possible like minded community.

It’s not an affliction for me because, I accept it’s down sides and have learned to play to its strengths.

Sure I rarely sit still, my attention span is what it is. If I’m bored, l start thinking about something else unrelated or jump ahead in a conversation. I geek out on random subjects and can’t stop my intense curiosity. My brain is at times in overdrive.

But do I understand and fully embrace FLOW.

It’s how yoga became a thing for me. Yoga gets me into a flow state every time. I can arrive with a head full of racing thoughts and leave one hour later detached and calm.

Doing art was how I used to achieve this mind space, but it didn’t always deliver. Art can be stressful at times. It has its sticky not very zen moments. Bringing something new into the world is labor. Yoga gave me practice and consistency. I got better at dropping in. This has helped me so much with doing art as well.

I know with certainty that I can close out the world and get an art project started or finished. I have my own little hacks. I have control now over this flowing. It used to show up by accident, (so it seemed). Conditions had to be right etc. Now I create the conditions. You might have guessed that slow breathing is how it starts, getting my parasympathetic nervous system onboard.

The middle of a project has many variables, decisions, and moments of uncertainty. It’s a whole thing. I have learned to relax, walk away, take breaks, sleep on it, basically try different things when I’m feeling off.

So yeah. Most of the time I lose myself doing things I’m captivated by. Art etc. I love when I lose track of myself and time.

I woke up to the sound of repetitive crashing. Something being blown about in the droning wind and rain. A few sideways palm trees, dramatic outside my window

At the beginning of the movie Mary Poppins, there’s a bit about the winds of change blowing in, and then Mary shows up with her fanciful umbrella landing. If you watch the back story with Tom Hanks, there probably was something that felt magical about the aunt showing up in the young author’s struggling family’s life. Just like Mary in her story.

Wind is a symbol of change Whether it’s about to happen or happening. March is the month that transitions winter into spring. Its a dramatic change in regions, not nessesarily California, a wind full of possibilities. Growing plants, the first flowers. Summer on the horizon.

I love the feeling of early spring. Newness, fresh air, promise. The certainty of rebirth in tiny buds of green. No wonder there are so many long held traditions to celebrate this time of year. There’s a little excitement to look forward.

This stormy windy March holds some unknowns, or rather, possibilities. Many opportunities, many beautiful moments are in store. Summer will follow spring, it always does…

It does sometimes pour in California. Just like the song says. “It doesn’t rain in California… but man, it pours…”

Today was one of those days. I went out early to walk, but turned around after we started to feel a few drops. By the time I got to my car, I was soaked.

The gray skies and constant sound of falling rain, plus changing into cozy inside clothes and slippers, led me to thoughts of tomato soup and what else? Grilled cheese sandwiches, of course.

I texted G. He agreed. So I braved the elements, dashed to the store, came home a little drenched, but ready to make soup.

I grew up on Cambell’s and actually have fond memories of their version. I haven’t had it in years but I remember it being sweet. Probably too sweet for me as a grownup, plus there’s no telling what goes into processed soup nowadays. I wanted to create my own homemade loosely inspired by Cambells comforting creamy soup to go with grilled cheese. My own perfect rainy day pairing.

Oh my! This did deliver. I love puttering in the kitchen, making up delicious food. I love it when it turns out even better than I’d hoped. I had pretty high hopes today, so good job, me.

Again, lucky to spend an afternoon painting (working) while hearty soup simmers on the stove. How better to enjoy a stormy day.

…heavy cream swirled in, a little fresh basil, perfectly toasted grilled cheese, yeah…it really was that good.

A little something I’m working on. It’s for a Tibetan meditation center. You may have seen prayer flags before. (I’ll find a picture). I’ve seen them and never looked too closely, until this week.

There are five images on each flag, each one representing and depicting symbolic details. As I work on this commission I’ve learned so many things. The horse is called the wind horse and carries a jewel on its back which represents good fortune.

Wind flags are meant to be outside in the wind moving, literally blowing in the wind. This alone symbolizes flow and movement. You can have more wind horse energy or less, I like the moving quality of this, which could be interpreted as perspective or even focus. The horse is in the center.

I personally am trying out the experiment of finding more evidence of my own luckiness. Good fortune and lucky are interchangeable terms here.

Who knew that my favorite animal as a kid was the lucky wind horse! Uh, well, maybe no wonder.

Up until fairly recently, I thought of myself as super lucky, (guiltily so). Whatever happened that made me stop, I’m not really sure, but I decided to start looking for evidence of my own luckiness again. Apparently fortune/luckiness can change like the wind. So can perspective. So can focus. Hmmm. Interesting…