For joy. For reasons that are bigger than what I know.

I paint.

Before yoga, before meditation, before I knew about breathing, before I’d ever heard anything about a parasympathetic nervous system,

I painted.

I paint to drop into a feeling of flow.

I paint to feel connected to a better feeling me.

I paint when nothing else makes sense, when life feels overwhelming or off.

For reasons I don’t know how to explain, painting calms me down and gives my brain a rest.

When I can’t figure out the world, or people, or my own little role in all of it, there is this sweet feeling head space that finds me. It’s why I create. It’s kind of how I got caught up in sharing it actually.

I learned that art isn’t everyone’s thing. Music isn’t either. Art gives my one friend anxiety. Even if it’s kind of her thing, anxiety can take the joy out of anything.

We all have our own life to navigate. I learned that I want to pay more attention to when things become unfun. Getting pulled into angst is a perfect lesson and good practice for me to try to stay focused. I spent these weeks trying to help my friend overcome her artists block and have fun putting on that show. How could it not be fun!?

Hmmm. Well…

I once was super busy in my younger life and was weirdly criticized for taking time to do art. My ‘friends’ explained that I should be caring about other things. They reasoned that my priorities were all wrong.

In that moment, I knew.

There are a lot of things about myself that I can’t explain, but this one I know.

Taking care of me, by giving myself time to create, IS right. It IS a priority.

Allowing those connected feelings to be, understanding their importance, painting for the love of painting, even feeling thankful for this crazy gift of peace that comes from simply drawing lines and brushing color.

This is for me.

For my joy. for nothing more than to feel happier in a moment.

For me, taking a peaceful me out into the world, is best.

I’m recommitting to leaving everyone else alone.

For me.

It also has a wood shop. The house is one of a few buildings. There are guest houses. My residence is not too big, but feels very spacious. It’s very minimally furnished and decorated. High ceilings, light wood floors, lots of natural light from plenty of big windows. Good sized closets, easy organization. Open, well stocked, but minimal, easy to clean kitchen. All new or newly renovated. The yard is gardens and checker board tile patios.

My studio is big and open. There is a large table and several easils. The best art supplies, all easy to get to and easy to keep organized. It has a cool garage door.

My studio and dream house (and all the guest houses) are both very comfortable and inviting. Beds, bedding, chairs, couches etc. Comfort, ease and beauty are emphasized.

There are beautiful outdoor spaces to sit and enjoy.

I think I’ll savor it for a little while.

Then tell G casually over supper.

The word ‘hobby’ keeps popping up lately.

I was watching this couple on TikTok, who have four kids under the age of seven, they joke about all the crazy things that happen parenting. The wife keeps saying she needs a hobby.

I’m pretty sure she’s kidding, but maybe not.

G’s mom is stuck in the house due to all the snow and freezing temperatures lately. She really does need a hobby, something besides playing Solitaire. Hobbies are good ways to pass time.

Its possible painting is my mine. At least painting my own non commissioned art.

What is the definition of hobby anyway?

So does that mean running a non profit is a hobby? Now I just have more questions. Doing something for enjoyment is maybe the best definition. I think the word hobby lowers the bar and keeps it light. And fun. Which is the opposite of the way things have felt art wise, lately.

If I’ve re-learned anything this past week and month, it’s that there are aspects of being an artist that aren’t really fun, certainly not enjoyable.

Maybe that bumps it out of the hobby category. Still, I do enjoy the process of actually painting.

If you know me, you know I want to keep things light and as fun as I can, because that is my preference.

A long time ago, and before I looked up the definition, I would have called worrying my hobby. I used to spend big chunks of time thinking of what might go wrong or what I was doing wrong, or what was wrong with me. Or analyzing every encounter, or everything I did.

Definitely not enjoyable, but it kept my mind busy. Over time I replaced that hobby with graditude. Which fits the definition better. When I find myself settling in to my old pastime, I now remember that, oh yeah, I gave it up because, it wasn’t just not enjoyable anymore, it made everything way worse.

So that’s my answer. I gave up worrying. There is no room for it in my life. It’s an activity that I lost interest in. I hope I’ve outgrown it.

Friday was the culmination of a long month (in my art world), a very long week, a long day and finally, one long night.

My paintings are currently in a gallery in LaJolla on Prospect St.

Does it matter that I spent two and a half hours in almost stopped traffic in the much needed rain (so not to complain, just saying it was sunny again today). Paintings wrapped in plastic were in puddles of water by the time I arrived, late.

I was soaked through from loading and unloading. And this was the easy part. The part that went almost smoothly. The rest, I don’t want to remember. It’s done. The art walk is over, my art is in a cool spot. It happened.

My soul is still intact.

Ah sweet, sugary, colorful

c a n d y

My favorite has always been chocolate. I like chocolate by itself, on or with most anything. Does it count as candy?

Candy, the colorful kind that makes any candy store beautiful and magical, was weirdly, when I was young, something I loved, but didn’t care to eat much of. My brother was easy to bribe or buy with it. So Easter, Halloween gave me a measure of kid currency, aka power. I was often robbed, (by the same brother), but tolerated it because I somehow knew he couldn’t help himself.

Candy is nostalgic. It’s fun. Many years ago it was in very short supply (rationed), or expensive for most families which made it all the more special. There is something about a simple treat made extra special because of it being in short supply. It’s so easy to buy now, I wonder if it holds the same punch as it did back in pioneer days.

Healthy families try to limit sugar for their children. I once knew a mother who never let her kids eat any. She had a complicated system of trading toys for all her kid’s Halloween candy. Her children thought chocolate was the worst because it was brown and not pretty like other candies they collected. I wonder how that went when they grew up and tried it for the first time.

I didn’t have candy on hand when my kids were growing up. I didn’t buy soda, but if it was offered, I didn’t swoop in and protect them or anything heroic.

No one in our little family complained about regular home meals, or no dessert, but when we made cookies or ate candy, it was fully appreciated. Candy made movie night special, fun and memorable. Even making cookies was an event.

It’s hard to know how healthy that was, but there’s no taking it back now.

The seventies remain a mystery. How were people walking around smoking and eating McDonald’s and eating candy bars, (protein bars were yet to be invented), so slim? What happened in the eighties and nineties that made everyone vilify, yet worship sugar and fat and somehow ruin all it’s fun?!

I think I’d like some chocolate covered almonds, some licorice, maybe a gummy bear or two and a movie right now…

Years ago, my best friend found a philosophy that was centered around what the originator called ‘the three principles’.

She studied with his protogies and it became a cornerstone for her own life philosophy.

I, (I don’t remember why), often argued against it. I don’t think I really disagreed so much as I didn’t want to be pigeonholed.(and maybe liked the debate?)

One thing I remember was this concept that if you can find a way to drop the heated subject (whatever is giving your brain grief, as in thoughts that are keeping you up worrying all night or arguing with your friend). If you can set that down as if it’s a glass of muddy water, the energy (or sentiment) will settle and things will become more clear. That clear mind energy place is a better mind space to make choices, have conversations or really go about life from.

I have been getting my own lessons on this concept in my own personal life classroom lately and it some days feels like boot camp. It’s as though my friend is trying to tell me something. I lost her to cancer a handful of years ago, but still often feel her input.

Am I learning? I hope so. Its not complicated. I understand it, but I just keep getting opportunities to practice. You’d think I’d recognize this right away, but instead, there I am again lamenting about some injustice, new or old, losing sleep, challenging my own concentration, until I slap my hand over my heart (necklace) and take three long, slow deep breaths. Then remember that I want to keep my heart open no matter what, take more deep breaths, and yeah…

Trying to get my brain to cooperate is a whole thing. I’d say I have gotten better. I used to joke that I had the ability to think so many thoughts at once that you could multiply the average amount of thought in most people’s heads by at least 10 and it might come close to what’s happening in mine. ‘ADD’, if they still call it that, is a fun gift. Talk about multitasking, I practically invented it.

Ten years of yoga has helped me.

Lately, I’m really committed to keeping an open heart. Oh my! It sounds so easy

I assure you it’s not. Stepping back and observing my thoughts as they race around inside, causing my body to feel sluggish and unwell, has been a dizzying ride that I am not enjoying. I might be fearing my next encounter with humans.

I don’t even know how to proceed past deep breathing. Setting this glass down has been all consuming. Welcome to the serious business of art I guess.

A mental exercise, every day. Oh my. I must be growing…or something.

The most important invention is my smart phone.

Before I had a smart phone, I had to spend hours at my local library and Barns and Noble. I had a need to read and before my Kindle, these were my only options.

I love physical books, but my reading speed is thwarted by page turning and lighting. Reading at night is no longer a problem. Can’t read small print? I can with my phone.Research? Now in the palm of my hand.

Probably for me the biggest thing is my Maps AP. This is a game changer. I never get lost now. I can independently and confidently drive anywhere. Crossing the country by myself was a joy. I was born with a ridiculously terrible sence of direction, it’s so bad that it’s like a disability. It held me back for a portion of my life, but thanks to my phone, I can navigate any city.

I love the camera. I love being able to blog and work on my website, write query’s, send emails, make and send PDFs.

Talks and mediations, news, what’s trending, weather. I’m eternally thankful for my hand held computer. I hardly even use it as a phone, but when I do I can go about whatever I’m doing whereever I’m doing it.

Calculator, note writing, shopping…

I love my phone. I remember life without it and I wouldn’t want to go back

I love these exercises.

It’s fun to imagine an ideal day in my future.

Things now are mostly good.

Yes, I do realize my days are pretty nice. We are here in southern CA very much enjoying the beautiful weather. California winters are winter, especially if you live here, but the mildest of mild. At night one might need a hoodie or a vest or a sweater because it’s humid by the beach and the marine layer can feel like you’re in a cool cloud.

It’s been nice to reconnect with friends and family.

A dream day for me would be one where things flow smoothly. I love it when the energy of possibility keeps going and going. No stressed out person crosses my path. ‘Yes’ is the word I keep hearing. It’s as though every challenge is a fun puzzle and everyone I get to talk to is up for fun expansive solutions.

In the spirit of happiness and fun everyone I encounter and everyone I hang out with is aligned and supportive. Kindness, and open heartedness, the feeling of love, rules. Big things happen, I feel inspired. We inspire each other. There’s sincerity and generosity. Fun happens spontaneously. Things expand. I feel like life is falling beautifully into place. That is my dream day.

Inspired by many ‘beautiful’, problem filled encounters.

I’m trying to process and understand what might be going on inside so many stressed-out individuals. And as usual, breathe through some of the harder moments. Times are tough. I hear that. Mostly I’m listening because I don’t know what to say or do, but listening isn’t helping me exactly, so, I’m stumped.

And I keep landing in situations that leave me feeling off and uncomfortable. This does make me pause and wonder.

What is my part?

Maybe ‘ideal’ isn’t everyone out there behaving so life is easier for me. Maybe an ideal day or even just an ideal moment is me going up against angst and turning it into something lovely. Maybe me proving to me that my energy is strong enough to stand up to who or whatever I encounter, is the most ideal.

My perspective is ever changing and always evolving. Life does that to me.

Perspective makes all the difference, both from the standpoint of art, but also in life.

Mentally standing back and viewing myself from outside my head, is something I am learning to do more often. Whenever I’m bowled over by a situation, I try to find a perspective that gives me a little space. It’s not as easy as it sounds.

I know that the passage of time softens, even changes emotions. I know that if I can pause. Set the proveial glass down and let everything settle, any strong feelings will settle (until something stirs them up again).

I am learning to use perspective and passing time to my advantage. Lots of strong energies are swirling, I am just like everyone else, navigating as best I can.

Am I missing the forest, because of all the trees? I’ve never fully understood this metaphor. Either we are IN the forest or we are standing back looking at it. Either way we are experiencing forest. It’s up to each of us what perspective we want to view things from. Unless we don’t see choices. Artists always see too many choices.