As always, your writing gives me motivation to pause - to reflect, to self-assess, to take stock of how I view the world, to hold family and friends ever closer, and to live as much as I can in this moment, each moment. How do you do that? In any case, thank you for the gentle (and not-so-gentle) prompts. Bless you.
I don’t feel very artful these days, which is something I’m missing in my life. I’m in the deep work behind the art, you could say: the framework, the finance, the groundwork that is required to bring art to life.
That's such a huge part of the work, Meghan. I feel like I'm spending more time there this year than I ever have, as I create a plan for the goals and strategies to get my work realized. Also, the learning of that process can't be underestimated. The work you do coaching other writers and photographers to build this structure is such a gift. Can't wait to see the film you're making!
Sonya, this essay and the links are so beautiful it takes my breath away and then gives it back. I love "I think it has to do with holding things lightly, with asking ourselves who is the one who seeks this _____ and for what?" Who indeed? My artful rituals are, on Mondays, to drive into Port Townsend and sit with a group of women in recovery and share directly from our hearts and souls. Every other day, my husband and I start with espresso and "talkback," where each of us listens as the other shares, without crosstalk. Then a circle walk in the forest with my golden retriever and my ancestors, with whom I talk out loud (as well as with the kinglets and winter wrens and eagles). Then yoga and savasana. Then a jointly prepared and cooked locally-sourced meal, our dance in the middle of each day. The rest of the day I write and read from a perch in this humble wilderness cabin I built over ten years while also teaching, mentoring, and raising a child. The "prow" of the cabin overlooks two Douglas fir and a vast bay. On the branch directly from my yoga and writing and sleeping perch, a Great Blue Heron lands each day, and I get to glory in its stillness until it sets off at dusk for its daily meal.
What communities of humans and animals and plants and weather you have surrounding this art. The entire experience feels like the creation you're making. Thanks for writing, and for sharing this wild existence.
As always, your writing gives me motivation to pause - to reflect, to self-assess, to take stock of how I view the world, to hold family and friends ever closer, and to live as much as I can in this moment, each moment. How do you do that? In any case, thank you for the gentle (and not-so-gentle) prompts. Bless you.
Thank you, Esther. I hope your writing is going well.
I don’t feel very artful these days, which is something I’m missing in my life. I’m in the deep work behind the art, you could say: the framework, the finance, the groundwork that is required to bring art to life.
Thanks for another wonderful post, Sonya. 🩵
That's such a huge part of the work, Meghan. I feel like I'm spending more time there this year than I ever have, as I create a plan for the goals and strategies to get my work realized. Also, the learning of that process can't be underestimated. The work you do coaching other writers and photographers to build this structure is such a gift. Can't wait to see the film you're making!
Sonya, this essay and the links are so beautiful it takes my breath away and then gives it back. I love "I think it has to do with holding things lightly, with asking ourselves who is the one who seeks this _____ and for what?" Who indeed? My artful rituals are, on Mondays, to drive into Port Townsend and sit with a group of women in recovery and share directly from our hearts and souls. Every other day, my husband and I start with espresso and "talkback," where each of us listens as the other shares, without crosstalk. Then a circle walk in the forest with my golden retriever and my ancestors, with whom I talk out loud (as well as with the kinglets and winter wrens and eagles). Then yoga and savasana. Then a jointly prepared and cooked locally-sourced meal, our dance in the middle of each day. The rest of the day I write and read from a perch in this humble wilderness cabin I built over ten years while also teaching, mentoring, and raising a child. The "prow" of the cabin overlooks two Douglas fir and a vast bay. On the branch directly from my yoga and writing and sleeping perch, a Great Blue Heron lands each day, and I get to glory in its stillness until it sets off at dusk for its daily meal.
What communities of humans and animals and plants and weather you have surrounding this art. The entire experience feels like the creation you're making. Thanks for writing, and for sharing this wild existence.
My lands. Your posts are like feasts... so much to devour. Grazie Mille, Amica. ❤️
and how's the art life going there?
Writing and learning and expanding and unearthing and waking up every morning and doing it all over again. ❤️
Love this notion of the rhythm of doing the art. I don't say 'consistency' because everyone has their own.
grazie bellisimo artista.