Riding the Wave

It has been several weeks since I returned from my Key West adventure. That first week back was absolute bliss. I rode the wave of euphoria that I had found through my energy work on the island, which led to the fantastic painting, Divine Connections. The second week back, life returned with a vengeance, and it was difficult to stay grounded through the usual day-to-day chaos.

Fortunately, I have an amazing support network of family and friends. They are always willing to take time from their busy schedules for a dinner, a call or an IM session. It is easier to keep breathing while walking the tightrope of life knowing that you have a wonderful net of loving arms to catch you should you fall.

In addition to the tremendous friends I already have, I made new friends in Key West. The memories of meeting these folks and spending time with them on the island helped to buoy my spirits. I was even able to continue to hear the song of my muse through the din of daily life by thinking of my Key West friends.

The muse continues to sing the same song. It is of two necklaces that I have to make. Both necklaces feature a special item that I brought back from Key West. The first item is a ceramic key purchased at Honest Works and created by Adam and Kelly. My friend, Connie, and I had just finished a yoga class and were walking back to our hotel when we passed what appeared to be a bicycle shop. We looked at one another and said, "We need to go in there." The majority of the building is indeed a bicycle shop, but the door we walked through brought us into a quaint and colorful shop full of pottery.

Behind the counter stood the artist, Adam. We spent a half an hour or more talking to Adam, oohing and ahhing over the gorgeous mugs, plates, bowls and vases. In the time we were there, we learned that Adam and his wife Kelly both work the potter's wheel and create many of the pieces together. They also have a toddler and a new baby. I felt an instant connection to Adam and the shop. I loved the colors and textures of the pieces. The man himself radiated positive energy and when we left I looked at Connie and said, "You can see the whole world in that man's eyes."

I was able to visit with Adam and Kelly twice more. I even got to meet their sons. On my second visit I purchased two ceramic keys and a mug. I cannot explain how I came to deciding on these items from the many beautiful things in the shop except that they chose me. So, I've had tea from my Honest Works mug every day since being back and I finally took one of the keys today and created the necklace you see in these pictures. This key is the one that spoke to me. I'm calling it KEY West.

The second item is a crystal that was given to me by the captain of The Imp II, Victoria. Connie and I joined Captain Victoria on a Dancing Water Spirit dolphin excursion. It was during this time that we delved heavily into our energy work, building on the outstanding environment we were in and the magical spirit of the dolphins that continuously found us (really, we thought it would be the other way around).

Part of our work was to take two crystals and bury them in the sand of the beach where we took a little break. This was to purify the crystals. After a time, we dug our crystals from the sand and sat near the water to meditate over them. During our meditation we were to think of something we wanted the spirit of the dolphins to help us with. By meditating on this desire while holding the crystals we essentially programmed them to act like beacons to one another. Finally, we took our crystals and headed back to the open water. The dolphins found us right away. While allowing the sunlight to refract through the crystals, we gave one back to the ocean and the dolphins. The other we kept and were told to wear it close to our heart so the energy of the two crystals could work together to help us fulfill our desire.

Today, I discovered how I wanted to wear my crystal. I wire wrapped it in sterling silver and hung it from a simple black satin cord. It is adjustable so I can wear it close to my throat or close to my heart. I have kept this crystal in my art room since coming home. My wish was to get out of my own way and to remove my expectations for my art. I wanted to hear the muse and for her to sing loud enough that I could not ignore her. I think the crystal is doing its job. I am looking forward to wearing it.

Now, I am continuing to ride the wave of spirit and energy created in Key West with my mementos and my memories. I feel the earth beneath my feet and the breath in my lungs. I am grateful to Adam, Kelly and Victoria for their artistry, their generosity and for touching my life. I will never forget it.

Divine Connections

Words are hard to come by for this blog. Usually, that it is not a problem for me. Right now though, I am feeling and talking does not seem to fit in anywhere. Still, I want to share my latest piece of art with you and words are needed to some degree.

I recently came back from a trip to Key West. I went with a special friend who "gets" the (sometimes) quirky spiritual side of me. It was amazing. I am not a beach person, not really an island person either, but Key West grabbed me the second my feet touched the sandy soil. Water like veined malachite, skies of azure and the sun spilling its golden rays everywhere -- I truly thought I had landed in paradise.

The physical beauty of the island is remarkable enough, but it was the people that sold me. I love people. I love to learn their names and I love to hear their stories. I find that most people want to tell their stories. They just need an opening and a good listener. The islanders of Key West are more willing than most to share their stories. It's why they come to the island, to belong to a community that allows them to be themselves completely, incorporating their stories into its own.

I would love to tell you about the amazing people I met, but that is not the purpose of this blog. Instead, I want to share with you the art inspired by these people. When I returned to Virginia, 1:30 a.m. and travel weary, I laid my head upon my pillow and the image of the Hebrew tetragram (Yod, Hey, Vav, Hey) floated behind my eyes. These four letters create the ancient Hebrew name for G-d, unpronounceable as the sounds have been lost to antiquity, silenced as the second Temple in Jerusalem was destroyed and the priesthood dissolved. Around the letters, colors took form, shapes began to weave themselves and I recognized the muse calling my name. I drifted off to sleep with the colors still swirling behind my eyes.

A couple of years ago I read a book titled The Sacred Art of Lovingkindness: Preparing to Practice. Rabbi Rami Shapiro describes speaking to a crowd of thousands that had gathered for a concert to help the victims of the December 2004 tsunami in Indonesia. He spoke the following:

"What does it mean to be the image of God? Being the image of God means that we are God manifest. Just as a wave is the ocean extended in time and space, so each one of us is God extended in time and space.

What does it mean to be the likeness of God? Being the likeness of God means that we have the potential to act in a godly manner. It means that we can, regardless of our ideology, theology, and politics, engage each moment and each other with lovingkindness.

The Hebrew Name of God, the four-letter Name Y-H-V-H, yod-hey-vav-hey, when written vertically takes on the shape of a human being. Each one of us is the Name of God incarnate."

When I read those words I had a revelation: The divine is you, the divine is me, the divine is everything we encounter and connects it all. The only divisions among us are the ones we put there ourselves. This is how I have tried to filter the world since reading those passages. I want to be an example of lovingkindness and I find that when I am practicing my example it is returned to me tenfold. The people of Key West reinforced that for me. My travel friend reinforced that for me. My family, my friends reinforce that for me. Thus, my art began to take form, centered around four simple Hebrew letters and infused with the colors of life, texture and vision.

I hope your life is full of lovingkindness inspired by the people you meet. Hold for yourself a sacred space, but do not forget to let the others in your life into that space for a time, too. Namaste.

Heart and Head, Not Heart vs. Head

Does sentimentality breed ineffectual responses to life? Oscar Wilde wrote in a letter to a friend, "A sentimentalist is one who desires to have the luxury of an emotion without having to pay for it?" Okay, I can accept that line of thinking when it comes to literature or art. I love the feelings that are invoked when I am reading or creating art knowing that when I am finished I am still where I am, richer for the endeavor without ever having to struggle through it in my daily life.

I came across a quote by William B. Yeats that states, "Rhetoric is fooling others, sentimentality is fooling yourself." I note the vein of truth in this statement and it makes me less satisfied because I do not wish to be foolish or ignore reality. I also do not wish to fool others with meaningless words, verbiage spewed just to convince another that my point of view is the one best accepted. I recognize each person's experiences are unique, and I pride myself on acknowledging these unique experiences in others (whether they refer to emotions, politics, religion or other world views). I cannot say I'm infallible in my endeavor to respect other's individual perspectives, however, I always know that I give it my best efforts.

Continuing to dig further on this matter of sentimentality I looked to find what it mean to be "sentimental". I plugged the word into the American Heritage Dictionary online. The screen read:

Adj.- a. Characterized or swayed by sentiment. b. Affectedly or extravagantly emotional.

I didn't find this a satisfying definition and I realized I had to use the root word, sentiment, to find what I was looking for. I then turned to Mirriam Webster's online dictionary and found the following definitions:

Noun - 1a. An attitude, thought or judgement prompted by feeling: predilection. b. A specific view or notion: opinion.

2a. Emotion. b. refined feeling: delicate sensibility especially as an expressed work of art. c. Emotional idealism. d. A romantic or nostalgic feeling verging on sentimentality.

3a. An idea colored by emotion. b. The emotional significance of a passage or expression as distinguished from its verbal context.

The definitions offered by Mirriam Webster are much more satisfying to me as they clarify the term for me more thoroughly. In a culture where intellect and reasoning are rewarded, feelings are, more often than not, cast aside as weakening a person. Still, I reiterated my original question: Does sentimentality breed ineffectual responses to life?

I began to ponder this question this past weekend as I was spending my free mental moments kicking myself for a particularly emotional response to a disagreement I had with a teacher at my children's school. I was chaperoning a field trip and had to make an executive decision when the teachers were not available. One teacher, in front of the students and other chaperons, loudly criticized me and told me my action was unacceptable. When I tried to later take up the discussion, in a more private setting, she accused me of "inappropriate behavior" with the student. The behavior she was referring to was the hugs I return to the kids when they give them to me. I was shocked, hurt and immediately crushed. These are children I have see grow from infants to now being at the door of their teen years. I have loved them, listened to them, immersed myself in their struggles and offered comfort when they asked for and needed it. This teacher did not know much about me, but she seemed to know exactly what would hurt the most.

Her assessment of one of the most favored aspects of my life was devastating. Are we to live in a world void of touch? Am I to restrain my empathetic nature, nay, strangle it until it dies a death of excruciating suffocation? What of the children? Are they destined to grow up in a world where everyone is to be feared, no trust to be given, touch to be viewed only as danger and never as comfort?

Feelings coursed through me like lava and I began to sort through them carefully. I analyzed every aspect of my behavior, every thought, every motivation. I cried at the innocence lost, for indeed I could no longer convince myself that my community was somehow immune to the ugliness of the world surrounding it. In the wake of this accusation I am having to change. I will still care for these kids, nothing will stop that, but I will be aware now how another person can take something pure and twist it.

This reasoning and analyzing of my feelings left me with an important realization. Sentimentality has been the rule of my life. I feel before I think. I allow my actions to follow my emotions. Life in this fashion has proven to wound me frequently, but it has also led to exhilarating experiences beyond what mere human words can express.

As a young person I was unable to control my sentimentality. I carried my heart on my sleeve to bleed over everything. Some people were disgusted by this. Some people used this to their primary benefit, often leaving my heart scarred afterward. Some people saw it for what it was: unconditional support for my fellow humans and an insatiable need to have it returned.

Having my heart outside myself did not allow me to turn my sentiment inward. It, my heart, was unable to exist in the world and still nurture that which was within me. Thus, I spent 30-odd years looking for someone or someones to do for me what I could not do for myself. An unfair burden to ask of people. More grievous was how I was denying myself the very think I wanted and needed most.

With no small amount of effort, I finally removed my heart from my sleeve and, with great gentleness, nestled it within me where it belonged. I directed all the sentiment it held toward myself. I learned how when one nurtures, loves and cares for oneself the heart swells, creates space and allows one to take others into that soft place to heal.

Sentimentality does not make one ineffectual in life. Living with sentimentality alone or with reason alone does that. Just like a fire is too hot to touch without being burned and ice is too cold to hold for a length of time without also burning, sentimentality and reason must be measured together to achieve the perfect balance of warmth that will comfort all who experience it.

I need both to create my paradise. My scales tip constantly from one direction to the other, but balance is always my desired destination. So too in this scenario I will seek balance. I deserve that, the children deserve that and I will strive for nothing less.

The Wisdom of Doug

Much of our lives are spent wondering about the whys and hows of the things that happen to us, around us, through us. We expend tremendous energy trying to fix things, anticipating the next moment or avoiding an experience. I am disgusted at how much of my time and energy are spent analyzing or planning and more so processing everything like it is a crisis.

I began a new journey five years ago when I realized that my life was controlling me and I was not controlling my life. I was bouncing from crisis to crisis, and when I say crisis I refer to the everyday things that happen naturally but appeared to me to be the end of the world. For instance, one of my children would spill their cereal all over the table and I would be frantic cleaning it up, feeling like a failure for not being able to keep my house cleaner, crying because I felt like a horrible mom for yelling at the child who simply had an accident and ultimately falling into a pattern of depression and self deprecation.

How to break this cycle though and gain some of my life back? Well, therapy was a start, but I have never been one to rely on others to do my work for me. I began to exercise more and I discovered yoga. I fell in love with the movements, the calmness of the instructor's voice and the meditative moments before and after class. I turned to reading everything I could about yoga, its origins, the philosophy behind it and that's when I found Buddhism. I became fascinated by the tenants of Buddhism, but I did not feel drawn to become Buddhist. Instead, I found ways to incorporate my Judaism with what I was learning of Buddhism. Sort of a JuBu kind of thing.

The foundation of Buddhism is that all sentient being desire pleasure and are adverse to pain. Sure, of course! However, it is by allowing ourselves to be controlled by our cravings for pleasure that we perpetuate a cycle of suffering. Our attachments to the things of the world that make us feel good, whether it's money, sex, people, objects, causes more suffering. I look at it this way, we are never satisfied when we get something because then we just want more. It's never enough. The things in our life are never enough and we ultimately turn it all inward placing the feelings of dissatisfaction with ourselves. We are not good enough, not smart enough, not good looking enough, not savvy enough because if we were we would have everything we wanted. Right?

There was my life in a nutshell. I placed the blame for everything in my life with myself. I simply was not good enough. It had to stop. The Buddhist have a wonderfully laid out philosophy for how to end suffering. It is multifaceted and rich with wisdom, but I found the most resonance with the concept of "The Middle Way," a path of moderation that directs us away from extreme self-indulgence and self-mortification (thank you Wikipedia for that succinct definition).

For me the Middle Way was to accept being "good enough." My children are clothed, fed, housed, educated and loved, therefore I am a good enough mother. I have a home, a car that runs, clothes, food, a loving husband, a creative outlet, friends, family - WOW, my life really is good enough. I try to live in the moment and to reflect on the reality of the situation: what is within my control, what is not in my control and therefore able to be let go?

I have to practice the Middle Way every day. Sometimes it is every hour, every minute, every second. I have to admit I am a much happier person now. I waste far less energy on the things that do not matter in life and I recover from the "rough spots" more quickly. It helps to have amazing people in my life who are willing to share their struggles and their wisdom with me and the world around them. That brings me to the title of this blog. My friend, Doug, posted the following as his status on Facebook one day. I wrote it down and posted it in my art studio on the wall I face while working. I read it every time I sit down and it reminds me I am not alone, that the path I am on is a noble one. Doug, if you are reading this, you rock out loud!

Today I am awake.
Today I am aware.
Today I am present.
Today I wield my sword well and cut cleanly.
Today I do not shrink from the fight against the easy, insidious forces of my own imagined mediocrity.
Today I love the world and myself enough to do this.

-Doug Powers (October 28, 2009)

To all those who struggle with suffering, be present in the moment, embrace yourself and remember that you are good enough!

The Temperature of Creativity

Sometimes a good thing just falls in your lap and you know it immediately. Two weeks ago I got to catch up with a friend I hadn't seen in more than 20 years and low and behold a beautiful, multifaceted relationship was rekindled. Actually, it was more like a wildfire broke out.

Chellee and I knew one another in high school through a mutual friend. It is also through this friend that we recently discovered that we both have taken the artistic path. Chellee works with glass, designing and creating amazing glass pendants, beads, bowls and also making chain mail jewelry. Her business is called 1465 Degrees, which is the temperature she fires the glass she works with. I love the tag she has for her business, "The Temperature of Creativity." So clever, so true.

I had the opportunity to visit her studio. You could have knocked me over with a feather because as soon as I walked in I knew I was in heaven. So much color, sparkle and ideas flooded my mind.

We spent hours catching up and doing the whole "ooh-ahh" thing over each others work. It didn't take any time before we realized we had found a "soul sista" in one another. I was lucky enough to be able to pick out six pieces to take home and experiment with. However, before I even got home I had already sold half my stash with the promise to bead them into fabulous necklaces.

Chellee doesn't do the bead thing and I don't do the glass thing. A match made in heaven? I think so. I came back to my art room and began to work on the pieces I had sold. The ladies seem to love the pictures I sent them and I look forward to receiving their feedback when they receive their necklaces. I beaded the other three, adding two to my Etsy shop and one is on hold for another friend.

Chellee and I have talked about every other day since our initial visit. I have already put in another order for more pendants, beads and other goodies. We are putting our creative energies together and I just feel it from the bottom of my soul that this is a marvelous thing in the making. That feeling in and of itself is inspiring.

I hope everyone gets a chance to check out the pieces that have come of this new venture between friends. The Felicity of Form and 1465 Degrees - no doubt you all will be hearing those names in the future.

Misc. Poop

Recently, I had the privilege to visit a unique store called Architectural Artifacts in Chicago. I went to look for "random stuff" for my altered art. I had no idea what to expect, so two of my friends and I jumped in the car ready for the adventure. Adventure we found.

Walking into the enormous warehouse/store/museum I suddenly felt like Alice falling down the rabbit hole. Enormous wooden furnishings towered over me, circus posters dangled from the ceiling and every nook, cranny and corner was filled with unbelievable treasure. Two enormous 19th century Burmese Buddha statues stood in one room not far from a 12 x 6 foot table six inches deep with photographs of trucks (really! someone apparently had a thing for trucks).

After a bit of searching, we found the room I had been looking for. The room wasn't large, however, all the available wall space was lined with antique cabinets full of rescued doorknobs, doorplates, hinges, knobs, handles and all manner of hardware. In the center of the room was my altered art playground: a six foot table piled high with more hardware. John, Mari and quickly went to work sorting, admiring and otherwise getting our hands very dirty. The only problem was no prices on anything.

John was kind enough to get the gentleman at the register to come and let us know how to price our finds. It was then that our adventure become ever so much more interesting. The gentleman, which we later learned was the owner - Stuart, picked up a handful of hardware, lifted it high and dropped it. He stated rather profoundly, "I hate this shit!"

Mari, John and I stood there with our mouths hanging wide for a moment until we all burst into peals of laughter. "I love this shit, can I have it?" was my reply. Stuart wondered out loud why I would want such stuff, so I began to explain my pursuit of all things random, recovered and old for my altered books and other art. Stuart was appropriately fascinated and invited me to fill a bag with whatever struck my fancy and then we would "negotiate."

I made quick work of filling my bag. Stuart came over a few moments later to give me an old engraving stamp that simply said, "Size 12, Combed Cotton, Short Sleeves." Hilarious that he would have picked that up off of a table with literally hundreds of engraving stamps, but I was honored that he wanted to contribute to my art.

A couple of hours and many belly laughs later, we stepped up for the negotiating phase of our adventure. Stuart was very generous and I was equally sassy in the process. I ended up with stuff I love at a price point I could live with and Stuart got rid of some of his "shit." Stuart had the last laugh though as he completed the receipt for my purchase with a merchandise descriptor of "Misc. Poop."

All I can say is one man's trash is another woman's treasure and I am rich!

Women Rock!

Generally, the first things I do after I get my kids out the door for school is to fire-up my computer. First, I check my email. There's usually a couple of dozen messages, anything from scouting to PTA information to the latest sales at my favorite stores. Second, I log into my Etsy store to see if there are sales, what people are viewing in my shop and if there's anything I can't live without in the other shops. Third, I go right to Facebook. I admit to being addicted to Facebook. It has become my way to relax, connect with friends and loved ones and generally just mess around.

Today, I logon to Facebook to find another inspiring link from my friend, Marissa Levin. Marissa and I have known each other for at least eight years now. We met because our kids are the same age and we attend the same synagogue. When I first met her, Marissa intimidated the hell out of me. She's tall, beautiful and is the successful business owner of a technology company called Information Experts. She not only founded the company, but she speaks regularly at forums and conferences for leading women in business, she is featured regularly in newspapers and magazines and currently contributes as a writer for Examiner.com. Me, I am primarily a mother and housewife. I think you can see why I would initially be intimidated.

As fate would have it, Marissa and I were invited to join a Bunco group that included ladies from our synagogue. Through these monthly game nights I came to know Marissa as a person who is smart, sweet, considerate and completely unpretentious. For me, her pedestal couldn't get much higher. Bunco eventually fell by the wayside, but I still connected with Marissa at synagogue. The years have gone by and I have concluded that Marissa is one of the most genuine people I know. She is ever quick with hugs and words of encouragement. When I get on Facebook, her status is one of the first I look for because even when she's having a bad day she finds something better to aspire to.

Two weeks ago, I shared with Marissa my newest foray into business. I handed her my business card and she said to me, "You are an entrepreneur!" Whoa now! I'm just coming to terms with calling myself an artist, thus it is quite a leap for me to consider myself an entrepreneur. However, I could not help but feel warmed and encouraged by her exclamation.

Today, Marissa's status was an article she wrote for the Examiner on purging. Sounds like an odd topic for a Women's Entrepreneurship column, but read the article - it's worth it. My favorite paragraph states:

"Purging makes so much room for the future. Not only does it free up physical space; it frees up emotional and mental space too. Clutter and overcrowding is draining. It depletes you of valuable energy to focus on the future. After all, how can you possibly see the road ahead of you if your immediate line of sight is blocked? How can you possibly envision a fresh path if the old path overwhelms you? "

This is just what I needed to hear. I am working so hard to purge old emotions and frames of mind to accept that I am on a new path with my life. Success is not measured in dollars only. I want to be successful for me and my goal is to get my hobbies to pay for themselves. It's realistic, it's attainable and it is a worthwhile goal. The added bonus is that I make time for me. I have the ability to soar to new heights and unknown destinations on this amazing journey.

Thank you, Marissa, for inspiring women to believe in themselves. You rock, girlfriend!