There is something to be said for peeing under the stars. Where the crickets can see you. I can hear them now with their staccato siren call. A surround sound symphony easing me into night.
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Don’t let the bastards get you down, my little one.
Be strong, and bring forth the parts you know to be true.
For if you do not, you will have not lived the life you were blessed with.
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We have reached the first quarter of the year, and every day I feel more and more inspired. I feel like I climbing slowly into the creative flow that I always dreamed of, but never had the discipline to make happen.
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Anytime my activity at hand is seen by Emilio, not as something getting in the the way of my attention towards him, but rather something he can be part of, is a step in the right direction. It means that I can have a life other than being his mom that he can witness. It makes our relationship more mutual.
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As he enjoys splashing in his tub, I enjoy soaking, scrubbing, and grooming my feet. After a while, he becomes interested in what I am doing and asks if he can have a pedicure too. He thinks a pedicure is an object he can have.
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It’s only been a few days of this new approach, but so far I am encouraged by how much I’m accomplishing while still giving Emilio the attention he needs.
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Now that Emilio is three years old, and has expanded his attention span and developed a lovely imagination, we can work on projects together that we both enjoy.
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27 signs that my inner kid is still very much alive
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I have come to believe, as the Taoists do, that in life, all things and thoughts have an opposite that is equally true. Nature is predicated on the balance between opposites: birth/death, light/dark, creation/destruction, and so on. If we ignore one half of a dichotomy or judge it, then we are not balanced, we are not allowing ourselves to the see and experience the whole and natural truth. As it is said: “you can’t have one with out the other.”
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I am sharing here, in honor of completing the 31 Day Art Journaling/Blogging Challenge, my second to last post from my first blog, ZOELAB 365, where I blogged every day for a year. This is the learning and meaning I made from that intense year, which catapulted me out of post-partem depression and into a highly-charged creative inner life that has informed me, and my professional work, ever since.
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As for me, I am mostly a marker and pen girl. Always have been. I studied oil painting in high school and college. But then decided it wasn't for me. I also have dabbled in watercolor. And find it very fun and playful. But, when it comes to drawing in my journal. I have always been crazy for that more graphic-y, comic-book-y, children's illustration look. I love black pen. I love filling in those lines with markers. My drawings have a naive look to them (sort of on purpose, sort of out laziness). Sometimes I try to make things look more realistic, but I also love the spontaneity of creating a line in ink and committing to its irregularity.
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Here is my list of blog post ideas (as well as longer essay pieces that I will eventually publish) that I want to write about. I am curious to hear what you think, which ones resonate with you or spark your curiosity.
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To write before they wake up,
before the sun rises,
to write before the tea boils,
before my thoughts become practical,
to write before I say why I shouldn’t,
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It's the best advice I can give anyone looking to explore their creativity, find truth, or get started on a project that feels daunting. For this advice, I am thinking of the bloggers and art journalers who have joined me on this month-long challenge to blog or art journal every day. I am thinking of my commitment to this practice, and the inspiration that I want to offer people.
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Join me for my latest creative challenge! 31 Days of Art Journaling and/or Blogging for January 2017
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I have a birthday wish that I’d like to share. I am taking the risk of not keeping it secret, because this is a wish that needs to be voiced in order to come true.
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Let’s assume for a moment that you do have gifts. That you possess something so unique and so beautiful that no one can touch it. No one can reproduce it or steal it. It belongs only to you and will be with you through this lifetime and possibly into the next.
And if you trusted and had faith in your gifts, you would know how to nurture and protect them as if they were your children.
And then what?
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A photo essay. In search of a cultural experience and evidence of the gritty, arty, old NY, I discover public art on the lower east side.
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