Intuitive Painting and Discoveries in the Studio

There's been a lot going on lately in my art studio.

That's right. I have an art studio! {swoon}

For years, if I ever actually stopped procrastinating long enough to make some art, I would have to tear apart a poorly organized cupboard to find the right supplies (or worse - make a trip to the dreaded basement if what I was looking for never made it upstairs), then go work at the diningroom table or on our bed. FYI, watercolor, glue and glitter in the bed do not make for a happy hubby.

But, now, finally our spare bedroom is an art studio. Sure it still has my husband's clothes in it, and there are still water stains on the ceiling from before we replaced the roof this winter, and it isn't as cute as I always dreamed of, and the light stinks. But who cares?! My supplies are all organized so I can find them, my art books, journals and sketchbooks are within arms reach of my desk, there's room for my easel, and I can go in and close the door and make art whenever I want to. And I have been. A lot.

I've been really into mixed media collage, art journalling, and intuitive painting lately. Whenever I'm in the studio I'm either working on an actual project or getting something ready - cutting out collage images, painting backgrounds for journal pages, or even watching some of the great videos and interviews out there from intuitive painters. It's nice to be able to have three or four projects going at once - because I'm working on all of them, not putting off working on all them.

I've made two - no make that three - important discoveries over the past few weeks by working this way.

#1 - Having small tasks ready to occupy my hands keeps fear at bay.

By having several projects going at once - and more importantly - by having some mindless prep work that doesn't require a lot of energy or decisions, I have lots of ways to bypass any fear that may come up. This is especially a problem when I have other obligations I have to deal with and can't get to my creative calling until later in the day or evening. Then when I finally get into the studio I can feel that fear and resistance bubbling up and the old tapes start playing in my head: "Actually maybe I'm too tired now. I don't know what to work on. etc, etc, etc."

But by having something fairly simple like cutting out magazine pictures, or just slathering some paint in my journal without worrying when or what I may write on that page, I have something I can quickly get my hands doing. And that stops the tapes and lets me either just relax or my intuition and imagination kick in. Then, sometimes, before I know it, I'm not just cutting out pictures, but I've got the glue out and glued them to a page, or I have started writing in the journal too.

I really don't need to know what I'm going to work on at all. If I have no idea, I might just sit down at my desk and take out a book with project ideas or creative prompts and start leafing through. That might be all I do that day, or it may kickstart something new, or even prompt me to finish an old project. A few weeks ago I started thumbing through one of my books of project ideas. Seconds later our 11 year old son came in and started hokking me about going to the bookstore. I convinced him to help me make some air-dry clay appliques for a wooden box I had from years ago, based on one of the projects in the book, and then I'd take him. While we were at the bookstore I looked through several inspiring collage books (that are now on my wishlist), and when I came home I finished a mixed media cake collage that I'd started in March 2014. Wouldn't have guessed that was where I'd end up that day, but even though I didn't know what art was going to happen, the fear didn't get me.

#2 - Anticipating getting to my artwork is almost as fulfilling as doing the work itself.

In Kaizen-Muse Creativity Coaching we call this "Creative Foreplay" - thinking about your creativity to the point of being able to sense how a brush would feel in your hand or the smell of the paint. Or going on a quest for a video to learn a new technique, or just getting your supplies ready. It's a tool we use to help people get past - you guessed it - fear and procrastination - and frankly I've only used it once (or thought I had) and that was for an assignment during my coaching training. But, in fact, I do this all the time already.

For the past few weeks I've been devouring everything on the internet I can find about intuitive painting - watching videos, listening to podcasts, gathering supplies. In my mind I was already there painting - the actual painting was almost beside the point.

Almost. It was pretty awesome to actually paint too. Which brings me to the third discovery.

#3 - This one is my favorite.

The other 2 weren't a total surprise because they tied in with coaching tools - it was just neat to see them in action. But this #3 - totally new and totally delightful.

On Sunday, after all the reading and video-watching I finally started and finished a painting using this intuitive process I'd been reading about. I wasn't sure I loved the painting, but it didn't matter - it was about the process. But then I decided I did really like it. I posted it on facebook, and showed it to some people at work. And then I left it up on the easel and I've just been admiring and enjoying it all week.

I realized I actually do this a lot. Pretty much every time I finish a piece I like. I savor it and admire it for a few days. I discovered it is part of my creative process.

Anicipation, Action, Admiration. That about sums it up.

Random Conversations From My Brains

Do you predominantly use your "right-brain*" or "left-brain*?" Are you more logical and analytical or creative and intuitive?

Do the different sides of your brain talk to each other?

Mine do. And some of the stuff they say is pretty crazy.

Left Brain: Hey Right Brain! You're dragging me down.

Right Brain: How can I be dragging you down? I'm flying over a meadow in the South of France. And call me Tallelulah. My name is Tallelulah.

LB: Listen Tallelulah, it's January and we need to do some organizing.

RB: Organizing?! Boring! Besides I've got stuff to do.

LB: What stuff?

RB: Rainbow. Cartoon. hAHAHAHa.Butterfly. Red. :::::::&888 Circle. Blue. oooh painting.

LB: Dude, that doesn't make any sense. Some of that was just random shapes and colors. What am I supposed to do with that? We need a system to

RB: Ooooh Yes! A system! We'll design one from scratch and make it all pretty with our own drawings and everything will be color-coded...

LB: Like that notebook you use to write down ideas? The really pretty one with the color-coded dividers that you never assigned what the sections mean? So you just randomly write in any section, in any order, and then ask me to find your ideas for you and I can't because it makes no sense. 1, a, b, 2, a, b, c, 3, a, b c...

RB: Stop indexing things while your talking to me.

LB: I'm just afraid we won't be ready for

RB: Gah! Don't say [afraid]! Ssssh. You'll wake him!

LB: Sorry. We need to get ready for doing the taxes. And work on the budget.

RB: Ssssh!!! Jeez, don't say the "B" word. If General Amygdala hears you talking about that finance thingy he'll mobilize the troops and we'll end up under the covers eating ice cream all day and nothing will get done!

LB: Can we at least work on the schedule for the month? I'll let you write things on the calendar.

RB: Schedule? We'll just do whatever feels right. It'll be fine.

LB: I'll let you write in colored marker...

RB: No! Let's design our own calendar with our own drawings and a planner too that has

LB: The logical compromise would be to go to Staples and buy a prettier calendar.

RB: Yay! Let's go. Hey this is a funny conversation. Apple. Bing! Spruce. Summer. Cold. mmmm smell. Let's write a blog post about it and a cartoon to go with it...

LB: Oy. G'night. I'm just going to sit over here and atrophy for the winter.

* BTW, the whole idea as we know it of right brain or left brain thinking is probably not accurate. But it's fun to think of the 2 sides of my brain as 2 lovable scamps who just can't work together.

Finding Strength with Kaizen-Muse Coaching Tools

"Where have you been?" you might ask.

"You started off so strong, ready to build a creativity business. You were so excited, and then -- Poof! You disappeared."

I'd like to be able to tell you I ran off and joined the circus. Or I was so busy making art I forgot to do anything else. Or anything that sounds vaguely interesting or adventurous.

But the truth was I was busy having an extremely difficult year.

In August 2013 when I signed up for Kaizen-Muse Creativity Coaching training, I thought maybe I'd end up with the skills for a sideline business. Hopefully, I'd learn how to jumpstart my own creativity. I didn't realize I was going to be learning tools that would help me survive a year filled with life stressors.

At the same time I was studying to be a creativity coach, our son was developing an obscure chronic illness, Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome (POTS). He would end up missing 4 months of the 4th grade followed by spotty attendance, chronic pain, and the deterioration of his emotional well-being.

As we rang in 2014, I was working from home, isolated, stressed, and frustrated that nothing we were doing seemed to be helping our son.

But having just finished the KMCC training and studying for the certification, all of the coaching tools we learned were front and center in my mind. So I used them. Not just for coaching clients, not just for getting past my own coaching blocks, but for everything.

• Every day, several times a day I asked myself, "How can I make this easier?" (The answer almost always involved ignoring some form of housework. Don't ask how long it was before the bathroom got cleaned.)
• When our son was crying from pain and frustration, I eventually stopped trying to suggest things to make him feel better and started asking, "What do you think might help?" He'd calm down and often he'd have a suggestion.
• When my heart was breaking because there was nothing I could do to make him feel better, and feeling guilty for accidentally enjoying myself, I reframed my harsh self-talk and started telling myself that still finding joy in life even though my son was sick didn't make me a bad mother.
• I hunkered down with "Muse Song" - muse of nurturing and self-care and "Lull," muse of taking a break (From Jill Badonsky's book "The Nine Modern Day Muses (and a Bodyguard)") and cut my work schedule to 3 days a week for the month of March. I spent Mondays and Fridays having artist's dates and drinking green smoothies, and generally getting out of my house so I didn't lose my mind.
• I lowered my expectations. So low they were practically non-existent. I didn't expect to accomplish much and gave myself credit for the smallest things - getting dressed, taking a shower, getting through the day.
• Small steps were the only way I could get anything done, especially since I couldn't concentrate for more than 15 - 20 minutes at a time.

All through this, I studied for my certification exam, and in early April became a Certified Kaizen-Muse Creativity Coach! This exciting development gave me little boost and I made some small inroads in building my coaching practice.

But the Universe had other plans.

My 92 year-old father, living independently in Florida, started to deteriorate and it became clear he would finally need to move to an assisted living facility. Before we could make that happen he ended up in the hospital and the plan changed to moving him to a nursing home. After years of trying to get him to move closer, he finally agreed to move near us to be in a home we knew and trusted. While I wasn't happy that he was unwell, I was overjoyed that he would be nearby, and our son, who couldn't possibly fly to see him, would finally be able to visit him on a regular basis.

Sadly, before any of that could happen, he passed away.

Needless to say, I was gutted.

My siblings and I had all gotten to see him in the 2 weeks he was in the hospital, but I hadn't taken my son with me, even though he begged to go. And none of us were with my Dad when he died. The guilt was unbearable.

But I still needed to function, so back to my Kaizen-Muse toolbox I went.

• I tried to believe for a few minutes each day that I had done enough. That even though my son couldn't be there, his Grandpa knew how much he loved him and vice versa. That even though I couldn't be there at the very end, I had told my Dad how much I loved him, and he was able to tell me he loved me while he could still talk.
• I embraced the Shadow Muse and drew dark and grief-filled images in my journal.
• I reminded myself this was all normal. Just like the creative process, there is no map or guidebook to get us through the grieving process. There would be good and bad days and no prescribed end-date.
• I asked myself what worked in the past? Having lost my mother 12 years ago, I knew that following the Jewish rituals of mourning had been a great comfort and would be again.
• I tried to reframe some of my grief and guilt as gratitude - for my father living to be 92, for getting the opportunity to know him better in the years after my mother died, for having him in my son's life, and for having the chance to say goodbye to him.

Thankfully, things eventually started to improve.

In July we went to Florida and cleaned out my father's apartment. Though I was dreading this, it was surprisingly healing. He had boxes and boxes of family photos that we got to look through. I took home many of them along with his portfolio and art supplies.

Then in August, almost exactly a year after he became sick, our son got better! He still needs medication, but his symptoms have all but disappeared and he is back to his old cheerful self. The gratitude never gets old.

This year, as we celebrated the beginning of 2015, there was joy and laughter in our house. We visited with friends and cleared away the last painful reminders of 2014's troubles.

In the past, when things have been even half as difficult as this past year, I've ended up depressed and on medication. However, I truly believe the coaching tools I was able to call on helped me stay off anti-depressants and though I wouldn't want to repeat any of it, I feel stronger for having been able to make it through this year.

Here's to a new year filled with good health, joy, and lightness!

From Perfection to Confection

During my training as a Kaizen-Muse Creativity Coach, we were required to work on a creativity project. This was an open-ended learning experience designed to allow us to use the tools we were learning. There was no deadline or specific assignments other than to occasionally comment on how the experience was going or answer questions about it. The product was not the point. It was all about taking small steps, enjoying the creative process, and being able to maintain our own creative practice while coaching others on theirs.

When I started this program I was so completely stuck, I had barely done any artwork for the last 25 years since art school. There were the occasional gifts I made for family members, and a series of beaded necklaces I completed thanks to being on bed rest during a complicated pregnancy. But for the most part all I had were multiple sketchbooks overflowing with ideas to someday implement. Problem was I had no idea how to get from idea to finished product – no idea how to implement any of my ideas (this is especially hilarious if you know that my full-time job as a web designer is as a member of our company’s “implementation team”).

This was my mindset when we were asked what ideas we had come up with for our creativity project. I immediately scanned my sketchbooks and listed a bunch of projects I had been meaning to work on – a pendant, a children’s book, a collage that incorporates some plastic junk I had stashed away to use someday (just so you know, I am helpless to resist stashing away interesting pieces of plastic junk and containers to use “someday”). I was just excited I was finally going to get some help finishing starting these projects I’d been kicking around for years.

A funny thing happened, though, before I could even start sorting out my list of old ideas.

As we learned about the blocks creative people encounter and how to get past them, I started absorbing the lessons we were learning into my every day life. I discovered I had serious issues with perfectionism. Paralyzing fear of every piece of art not coming out perfectly, prevented me from ever starting. Or if I did start, and I liked where my work was going, the process became increasingly anxiety-ridden because the more I liked it, the more there was a chance of screwing it up before I finished.

As we learned about taking small steps – 5 minutes at a time if necessary, and lowering expectations – starting out “small and crappy” or doing intentionally bad work to get past the perfectionist fear, I found myself drawing a little bit every day and really enjoying myself. At night when I’d normally just sit down to watch TV I’d think, maybe I could just doodle for a few minutes. I might think, nah, I’m tired, but then I’d decide on just 5 minutes and set to work. Two hours later I’d still be doodling and coloring.

One the doodles I did was a very tall, lopsided cake on a strip of cardstock intended as a bookmark. I realized that I had so much fun drawing it, I could draw it over and over without getting tired of it.

So I did.

I kept drawing that topsy-turvy cake until I realized I wanted to draw it bigger. So I drew it with a little girl staring up at it (top left image). And I loved how it came out! Suddenly it looked like a page from a children’s book and I was curious what was going to happen next.

Curiosity and wonder about your own work is always a delicious feeling.

It also occurred to me that my past ideas for children’s books (I have buckets of them floating around) never went anywhere because I always wrote the text and got stuck trying to illustrate them. I wondered, “What would happen if I just drew pictures I enjoyed and waited to see what story emerged?”

This new mindset was very encouraging. Unfortunately, only days after starting to look at things differently, old patterns took hold. I got caught up in the idea of churning out more drawings of the little girl in the picture, feeling certain she was the main character in this book I was now working on (because obviously if it could be a book, it had to be book).

It stopped being fun pretty quickly after that.

Luckily, a coaching session with my student coach (we were each assigned a student client and a student coach to practice with) brought me back to the memory of the fun I first had just drawing my cakes. I stuck my original bookmark up on my mirror as a visible reminder of where the fun had started and decided to just go back to doodling – I’m going to keep it small, I remember telling her.

And again – a surprise. I removed all expectations and found myself painting a much larger cake on canvas (top right image). I didn’t plan it or think about it. Just had an afternoon off and decided to paint.

I started it on Thanksgiving and worked on it a few minutes at a time, sometimes only every two weeks or so, until the end of February. I made huge mistakes and realized I could either fix them or I couldn’t. Maybe the painting would be ruined, but I’d still survive to paint another (they always were fixable). I also didn’t give up, as the pile of unfinished projects strewn about our house would suggest might be the likely outcome.

At the end I had one last decision to make. I knew I was just about done and felt like it could be the biggest mistake and would ruin the painting, or would be the finishing touch and I’d be done. I agonized briefly, summoned every ounce of audacity and nonchalance available, and went for it.

I outlined the whole thing in a heavy, cartoony, marker line and signed my name. It didn’t matter if it was good. The point was it had been fun, it was the product of lowered expectations and small steps, and after 25 years I had completed a painting again!

The truth was I did really like how it came out.

But I think the lessons I learned during the process were far more rewarding. Unrealistic expectations suck the fun out of being creative and make it feel like work. Small steps get you started, help get you unstuck, and move you past fear caused by perfectionistic thinking. And best of all, happy surprises, moments of pure joy, and wonder can be found in the creative process, if we embrace our mistakes, allow detours to happen, and avoid worrying too much about what the end result is going to be.

A Place That Always Exists

Leap Into the New Year...But Bring an Extra Pair of Shoes

To resolve or not to resolve? That is the question.

It's that time of year again...time to declare great changes to begin on Jan. 1 only to abandon them by mid-February (or earlier).

So why bother, right?

There is actually a great reason to continue making resolutions, and more importantly a number of things you can do to give your resolutions a decent chance of lasting until spring - or beyond!

There is something undeniable about the end of the year having a certain momentum that propels us into the coming year. The glitter and glitz of the holidays is suddenly behind us and the prospect of a calm January with it's clean, white, unblemished calendar pages seems open to unlimited possibilities.

That momentum is what allows us to leap into the new year and make great strides toward our goals right off the bat.

The problem is that most of us have unrealistic expectations about our resolutions - about this momentum lasting until we achieve our goal, about how easy it will be to achieve our goals, and about how we will deal with setbacks.

Let's say you decide to get into better shape for the new year - it's one of the top 3 resolutions. You run out and join a gym the first week of January and for a few weeks you work out 3 days a week and feel great. But, inevitably you wake up one morning and you are just too tired to work out. For the extra hour you get to sleep that morning you feel wonderful, but as the day goes by you start feeling bad about missing that workout. Your were succeeding, and now you believe you have failed. Suddenly, it doesn't seem as exciting to be making this healthy change and you start missing more workouts, until finally you've stopped going to the gym completely and just feel guilty all the time because you're paying for a gym membership that you aren't using.

Sound familiar? (Believe me, I've lived it!)

But it doesn't have to be that way. If you start the new year with a goal, knowing that momentum will allow you to have great success at the beginning, but that it won't last forever, you can prepare for that moment when you lose your motivation.

The key to moving forward and achieving a goal is small steps. Big leaps are great for the short term, but taking small steps when the initial momentum wears off is what helps us show up to do the things we want to do and make continuous small improvements.

We know we are going to lose our initial momentum, so what small steps can we plan to take when that happens? When you are no longer motivated to go the gym for a 45 minute workout, how about going for only 15 minutes? Chances are once you are there you will end up staying longer than that, but if you don't and you only workout for 15 minutes, you have still succeeded.

What if 15 minutes still feels like it's too much, too difficult? How about dancing for 1 minute during the commercials while watching TV?

And this concept can be applied to any change you are trying to make.

If you know what your resolution is, ask yourself today, "What small steps toward my goal will I take when my initial motivation wears off?"

Another issue in the scenario I gave you is the way we beat ourselves up when we take that first misstep.  The feelings of failure and guilt are not at all helpful when we are already struggling to make a change in our lives. We need to go into these resolutions reminding ourselves we aren't perfect, that we will likely make mistakes, and when that happens, acknowledge it without letting it derail us.

If you experience a setback, what can you say to yourself that is kind and gentle, and will inspire you, instead of making you feel guilty?

And finally, have some fun with it! Who says making changes in your life has to be a serious business? Use your imagination and find a way to make what seems like work into a game. Pretend you are on a great adventure!

Here are some ideas for making some of the most popular resolutions more fun:

• Losing Weight
  Tracking food for a diet plan? Draw the food you eat each day instead of just listing it and create an illustrated food journal
• Getting Fit
  Hate going to the gym because it's cold and metal and loud? Pretend you are visiting an alien planet and observe the local life-forms in their vast, clanging, metal forests
• Getting Organized
  Sounds boring? Dub your organizing sessions "Space Clearing Extravaganzas" and dress festively to celebrate them (I always find a tiara or crown helps make any boring task more fun)
• Being More Productive
  Overwhelmed by how much you need to do? Instead of listing out a giant, daunting to do list, pick 3 things each day and doodle what you have to do - make a DoodleToDo list!
• Saving Money
  Bummed out by not buying all the things you want anymore? Pretend you're an Ebenezer Scrooge-like miser and count your change in big stacks while cackling and grumbling  (go ahead - Christmas is over - you know you want to). Bonus points for wearing a top-hat and cravat.

Anyway, hopefully you get the point. I'm sure you can come up with even more entertaining ideas!

So go ahead, leap into the new year with the best intentions, and run until you can't run anymore. But, bring along some extra shoes - when you stop running you can put on your comfortable walking shoes for those small steps that will get you to your goal. And, of course, don't forget your dancing shoes - they'll make your journey ever so much more fun and joyful.