New Territory

Not a square in sight.  So far.

Having grown up on the Northern Coast of California, the roar of the surf was the soundtrack of my days, 24/7.  When I reached the incredible freedom of my driver's license, "the beach" would call me with its distant conversation.  My young dreams of future life were of a house on the Coast, with animals and a studio, and bookshelves lined with Leo Tolstoy and Zane Grey.

Of course, life has carried me far, beyond my wildest dreams in many ways, though short of living day by day on the Coast.  I am not disappointed.  I am satisfied.

My studio is a humble bedroom-converted, with windows that encourage sunlight to splash into the room.  On a fairly regular basis I am driven to clean out and re-organize, because my obsessive-compulsive housekeeper raises her critical head and delclares my sanctuary a mess.  Geez, I say.  Must you be so harsh?  Don't most artists have all their stuff, their material, all around them?  O. K.  I see:  Do we need all ((ALL)) of this?

To be fair, I do admit that I have been cleaning-out.  Have made my lists, and checked them off.  I do enjoy a more open space within which to work, as meditation often begins with my eyes landing gently in a corner, on the window sill, or top shelf.  Inspiration is only a breath away, or a stepping aside to allow its entry.  It comes forward, not unlike the winter sunlight dancing with the Madonna and Lady Guadalupe and the Blue Birds.

Fifteen years (or so) ago, the forces of nature which govern and pummel the Northern Coast created a never-before Sea Ball.  High tides, high winds and the January surf created them from sea grass, twigs and roots.  My nieces, nephews, kids and I collected them out the the wild water.  They still inhabit my space.  No.  I will never throw them out.  I have given a few of them away, re-homed them.  Periodically I give them the once over with the vacuum cleaner.  After all this time and cleaning, they still pour forth sand.

It is human nature to be creative.  It is our nature to create and hold beliefs, ritual, and meaning about our lives.  These become our stories, what we hold to be true.

So often, what we hold to be true isn't.  This is the space, once cleaned out of untruth, becomes the source of our renewed and rediscovered creativity.

Hey.  I love you.
xoxo
LPC

Looking Back, and Forward

Several moons have travelled across the sky since I've written.  Now, faced with how to catch up, I say, just jump in and do it!  Isn't it odd how liquid time is?  Moments pile up like sandstone, memories wash away details, monkey-mind elaborates and exaggerates!  What is one to do?

Smile and go with it?  Realize that what I put here is just my story, or all my story.  Let go, my Dear, of making it good or excellent or rotton or complicated.  Let it flow!

We have been at the Coast for a week.  It has been wonderful.  In fact, we are still here, though packing and leaving tomorrow by noon.  Yeah.  Going home.  Picking up the dogs!  Checking back in to my Life!  Renewed.  Resolved.  Inspired.  Quieter.  Maybe a little more solid.  

The past year has been full of growth.  Apparently my personal growth was needing some updating, as from here it seems that is all that I've been doing.  I tend to forget in any given moment, that Life has been very very very full.  My partners and I ran our Phantom IV Gallery for a year and a half, and closed it October 1.  By itself, that was an adventure!  for which I am grateful of every moment.  The Gallery experience moved me deeper into my own artwork, and also delighted with meeting and getting to know other artists.

The coming year excites me.  I look forward to renewed energy which emerges with the light.  This dark time of year is incubation, where seeds/ideas planted in dreams or conversation or writing swell and germinate.  Minutes of light extend each day moment by moment.  I can feel it!

Oh, and my new planner awaits me!  It's arrived!  And I cannot wait to crack it open!

My little secret:  I like the discipline of planning and doing.  For so long, spontaneous was very important to my way.  Let whatever happens lead.  Oh Lordy.  I cannot believe I did that for so long, not realizing the suffering I caused my own self.

Two and a half years ago I joined a 12 Step group to "try" and lose weight.  My weight has bugged me for as long as I have been spontaneous, I kid you not.  So, after watching my dear friend melting away, and asking her, "What the...???" she invited me to come to a meeting with her.  That was August 17, 2010.  Wow.  And what does Program do for one?  Let me tell you:  Following the Steps, using the tools, giving back to the Fellowship has brought the spiritual into my life, completely.  Yes.  Every morning I read my literature, I write in my journal, I pray, I meditate.  I call my sponsor, and my sponsee calls me.  I walk, I meditate.  I prepare and eat an abstinate breakfast.  I go to work, or take the dogs out, or do yardwork.  I prepare and eat an abstinate lunch.  I go to work, or to the studio.  I prepare and eat an abstinate dinner.  I make calls to Fellows.

And I have lost 58 pounds.  They are gone.  Don't even threaten to return.

Of course, Life is interwoven in this schedule.  Life with family, friends, spiritual community.  Interwoven is the key.  No longer tangled, knotted or torn.  A calm has enveloped my life.  No, not boring, or resigned, but a beautiful order.

The coming year promises more: art, fellowship, deepening relations, Love, writing, giving, growing.  I look forward to an incredible year.

For you I see good fortune, community, shared work, solidarity, faith, trust,  and love.  I see this for us all.  I celebrate.

I love you.
xoxo
LPC

Messenger

Messenger

by Mary Oliver

My work is loving the world.

Here the sunflowers, there the hummingbird---

equal seekers of sweetness.

Here the quickening yeast; there the blue plums.

Here the clam deep in the speckled sand.

Are my boots old?  Is my coat torn?

Am I no longer young, and still not half-perfect?  Let me

keep my mind on what matters,

which is my work,

which is mostly standing still and learning to be

astonished.

The phoebe, the delphinium.

The sheep in the pasture, and the pasture.

Which is mostly rejoicing, since all ingredients are here,

which is gratitude, to be given a mind and a heart

and these body-clothes,

a mouth with which to give shouts of joy

to the moth and the wren, to the sleepy dug-up clam,

telling them all, over and over, how it is

that we live forever.

Listening to mine messenger, that's the quest.  Listening to Mary Oliver last night was inspiring, hilarious, and deeply moving.  She made a joke about commas being inserted into lines by poets wanting some definitive way to highlight a particularly fabulous phrase,  "...that's why you find them in my poetry, and dashes, lots of dashes!"  I just loved how she let us all know that we all have precious phrases and lines IN us, and of course we are going to search for ways to make them obvious!  Why wouldn't we?

Listening to a program about Roy Orbison as I am working today:  I loved him when I got my first Personal Stereo (not to share with Mom, or brothers, or somebody turning it off right in the middle of "Leah!").  I played his records many times every day.  Oh Lordy, now I hear him in rehersal with the Boss.  Now, HOW am I supposed to concentrate?  Oh, Sweet Dreams, Bay-beh!

Oh, and MO writes dog poems!  Hee hee hee!  Look out, Literary World!!!

What is your personal Messenger whispering today?

xoxoLC