Inspiration

Make Me Smile, Make Me Cry

/ still a dreamer / 2 Comments

How often is it that you watch something on the web and you are moved to tears while feeling an inner kind of joy? Not that often in my book, but every now and then – something really hits the mark. This one did it for me.

Go take a look at Where the Hell Is Matt? and click on Dancing 2008. And then watch his Dancing Outtakes, and whatever else strikes your fancy. This guy is joining the world through dancing – he’s not going to win any dance awards – that won’t be why you check it out. You’ll be going to watch a young guy wearing a joyous smile with an energy and a love for peoples of the world who wants to share it, AND get people dancing with him. It just blows me away, and so far, everyone I’ve sent it to.

Oporto-PortugalIn his About Matt section, (his FAQ’s are pretty funny, BTW), one of the things mentioned is that Matt believes that Americans should travel abroad more. That really struck a chord with me, and I truly agree. I find that Americans as a nation are rather insular, but to travel outside of the U.S. borders is truly eye opening. The first time I left this country was to visit my cousin Norman in Portugal – I was 23 years old and had never been on a plane, leave alone in a country where I couldn’t understand one word anyone said.

Perhaps this visit should be for another posting, but let me say that the vast difference in cultures, landscapes, language, food, architecture, etc. gave me memories I’ll never forget. And yet, there was nary a soul who didn’t go out of his or her way to be kind to me, a total stranger. I think many people’s world views could change just in knowing that, despite the differences between us, there are amazing common bonds. Matt is sharing one – dancing. It really has touched me. Go look – Matt is one cool guy.

p.s. I apologize that this photo is not mine – mine are in slide format and I’ve never taken the time to learn how the thing-y that came with my scanner converts them to images I can use – but this one, taken in Oporto, (where I also visited with my cousin), is a decent stand-in for the loveliness and simplicity found in the older areas of Portugal.

Just Do It! (for you creatives out there)

/ still a dreamer / 2 Comments

As creatives, we often find ourselves stuck – like there’s something in front of us that we know we can only trip over. We don’t want to risk hurting ourselves so we don’t go forward. While staying in place is the seemingly safer path, in the long run it is far more painful. When we don’t try, we don’t grow. Not pushing through ultimately makes us frustrated, depressed, anxious – all the emotions that we don’t want to feel. Ironically, these are good things in the sense that they are signposts showing us the way …when we look at our writing pads, computers, sketchbooks, cameras, canvases, etc and feel those emotions, we see right where our issues are. Thank them and let them go.

As both an artist and a writer, I need to make time for my craft one way or another every day. Because I journal every morning, my writing skills are always kept well-oiled and in gear. While I do need to get new things down, edit and refine, it is much less effort because the fluidity is there. Or I blog, all so I can focus on my real craft, writing for children.

As for my drawing, that takes more effort. Many years ago, when I was in Pratt, our instructors had specific requirements of us students. From when we first took 2-D (drawing) in freshman year, we were required to have our sketchbook with us 24/7. And so we did. When I began to become more involved with photography in my junior year, we were required to carry our camera with us 24/7. Both these exercises had the same result – if you had it with you, you used it.

We began to draw and photograph each other, the cat, the campus, the subway – didn’t matter – it became a routine because that sketchbook or camera was attached at the hip. Admittedly, one felt like a fool after awhile having it there and ignoring it even when going through a dry patch. The bottom line is, make it easy for yourself, be kind, and without criticism, just do it.

All the moaning and excuses in the world won’t get any project advanced, but tinkering about with our craft will. What I’ve found is that even while we’re busily avoiding exactly what it is we truly need to get done, we can trick ourselves by doing something else. For example, I have a heap of work I want to do to strengthen my portfolio. It’s a big task and a lot to do. I really am psyched. But the enormity of it sets me back a bit. Should I do nothing? No – I decided to just draw other things – a little oil in the gears, and then I’m going.

This tree frog I drew has nothing to do with portfolio requirements. It had everything to do with actively kicking aside whatever might be there to trip me. So for all of us – take the back door approach if you will – draw, write, paint, doodle something … anything … just do it!

Maybe more OMMM than OWWW …

/ still a dreamer

It’s really all a matter of words. And mood. So as charter members of OWWW, might we take a deep breath and turn those w’s into m’s and try for OMMM. A dear friend of mine has suggested chanting to get me out of that oww mood, among other things. To help me be calmer and to tune into the greater consciousness. I’m all for it.
Admittedly, chanting seems a bit strange to me. I’ve always sung to myself and frequently hummed, but actually chanting is something very new. Even though there may be no one around, it’s so different from anything I’ve done, that I feel like I’m sticking out in a crowd.
Chant-FrenchieGetting ourselves into a spiritual place is a much better thing than complaining about too much to do, although the latter is so easy. Clearing energy and just BEing – that is a challenge. It’s one I attempt to master every day, sometimes with great results, others less than stellar. But I admit, I do find the chanting somehow comforting.
The chant is one from Nchiren Buddhism … and has it’s own website … how to chant, how to pronounce the words and the meaning of the chant. Too long for a blog, but you can do a search easily enough. Here’s the chant: nam-myoho-renge-kyo. For when you want to choose the ommm instead of the owww.

Hmmmm .. could that little Frenchie be quietly chanting on her lilypad? Check out my Frenchies Apres Monet in cards or a print.

My Very Best Friend

/ still a dreamer

DutchGrowing up in a house with a very anxious mother wasn’t easy. It affected everything and everybody. While I understand as an adult why things were the way they were, it was difficult as a child living with someone who needed to control just about everything. I didn’t consciously know it then, but I longed for someone in the house I could just `be’ with … without intrusion, always accepting, always comforting, and who’d never give up a secret. And my dog became that someone.

When I was 5, my brother 9, our parents decided we were old enough to have a dog, so at Christmas they gave us a beautiful Boxer puppy. I don’t think either of us quite `got’ the concept of having a dog at Christmas when there were still so many other exciting presents to open and play with. But Tinkerbell, as she was named, was not to stay with us very long. Within a few months she developed epilepsy. I don’t remember seeing the seizures my mother described Tink having on the kitchen floor, with blood and foam spewed all over the room, or perhaps I willed myself to forget. But as there were no cures for epilepsy back then, Tinkerbell’s only option was to be returned to spirit. I was so young, and hadn’t become very attached to her yet, I don’t think I really understood what had happened.

Dutch and Me -1Then our parents got another dog. She was sold to them as a Boxer, 6 months old, and I recall my mother being so happy she didn’t drool because her face wasn’t pushed in like other Boxers. There was a reason for that … she wasn’t really a Boxer. At best, she was a Boxer, pit bull terrier mix; my obedience trainer, when he looked at my childhood photos of her, told me that she was pure, and that was how they bred American Pit Bull Terriers back then. It didn’t matter … she quickly became the best friend and confidante I longed for. Her name was Dutchess. Dutchess Von Wiggles was how my mom had `officially’ named her because she had a butt that was constantly in happy motion.

DutchandMe -2Dutch couldn’t sleep with me as she wasn’t allowed on the second floor, so I slept with her downstairs. We watched TV together, me resting my head gently on her side; and we curled up in sleep on the living room floor. She learned all the tricks a dog learns, and loved to go for walks or play outside in the yard. I can honestly say, in a way that only a dog or animal lover would understand, she was everything to me … she was my best friend. I had a human best friend, of course – happily, I always had friends — and I had my big brother to play with and taunt, but Dutchess was different. She was just what I needed – another soul in the house that simply loved me straight out no matter what. And I adored her for that.

DutchandMe-3When I was little, my parents would cover her eyes and ears and I would hide. Then they’d let her go … “Find Jeanne!!” And Dutchess would search every nook and cranny downstairs to see where I was hiding, just bursting into wiggling, wagging joy when she found me. What child doesn’t live for those moments? She made me feel safe in a childhood where feeling emotionally safe wasn’t easy. Dutch was the heart, soul and embodiment of unconditional love. She was both my rock and my wings, my compass and stars; she was my comfort and confidante. She was one little girl’s very best friend.