No Idea

After looking over my posts from the last few months, I wondered why am I writing all these blogs? How could writing about my thoughts, creative process, garden, kids, grandkid, and dog, mistakes and all, be at all interesting to anyone but me? 

And if it is, interesting that is, what would be new and interesting to write about this week? I had no idea.

Then, I realized. That’s it. That is exactly why I started writing my blog. And why I’ve kept writing it for over a decade.

Notes from the road. 

As a writer, I have a kind of compulsive need to put my thoughts and ideas down somewhere. I used to doodle on the side of my notebooks in school.  Then the scribble in my teenage diary which led to a lifetime of journaling. It was a way to go from lost in the world to found. 

When I started making art, I just transferred some of my writing into pastels, watercolors, oil paintings, clay animals, and window-screening masks. My story boxes really started out with the characters popping to life on my studio shelves where they told me their stories. 

I had no idea what I was going to do with my first blog, Susan’s Art & Words. First, I let my story boxes tell their stories and it evolved from there.

Sharing thoughts from my art, turned into sharing my life. 

Creating isn’t really that mysterious. It’s just life. You get up, look around and try to figure it all out. I had jobs where coming up with ideas was what I got paid for, so the idea of having no idea was terrifying. So I made a lot of stuff up. Turned out I was good at it, at least others thought so, and I kept my job. 

Making art wasn’t what I started out to do. I started out just making and learning and trying and failing. Sometimes something would turn out nice. Or I’d hate it and put it in my studio closet, which by the way, is where there are shelves of abandoned pieces. Poor things. Because, once again, I had no idea what to do with them. 

Then I realized that life is all about living with no idea.

I liked lilies, no idea why. And over the years, I’ve made many lilies. In copper, in window screening and now in clay. 

Faces seem to appear to me. They pop up on the linoleum floor, trees, clouds, and the sides of cliffs at the beach. No, I’m not stoned. (Ok, sorry about the pun) They’ve turned into masks, sculptures, paintings and now ‘Party Animals’. No idea why. 

So why, is having no idea a problem? Because our society wants us to be able to explain, discuss, outline our reasons with logic and have a marketing strategy. 

Well, I want to laugh. Smell. Taste. See all the faces in the clouds. And dance in the cool grass until I get dizzy. Want to join me?

Why? No idea.

Let’s dance anyway.   

  

I Spy.

Remember the game, I Spy? I loved playing it as a child and was so happy to be able to play it again when my children were small. It’s just a game. But inside that game might just be the key to happiness. 

Crazy, you say? Maybe. 

Here’s a refresher on the how to play the game. First rule, keep your eyes open. Second rule, look around you to find something to share. Third rule, call out to the other players what you see. It can be anything: a car, bus, house, plant, bird, bee, flower, tree, plane, building. It can be anything and everything that you see out your window. 

I want to make a special note of the words, ‘outside your window’.  Because we all have our own windows on the world. What we see, if we bother to even look, can give us a whole new view of the world inside and out. Because no matter what’s out there to see, we still filter it all through our very own set of windows, our eyes and our minds. 

What’s outside my own set of windows?
I spy pink and purple hygrangeas.

And I spy a copper moon.

I spy a garden with lettuce, tomatoes, zucchini and a tiny pepper. 

And

I spy water trickling into overflowing flowers. 

I spy a big, bright blue sky, bees feasting on hibiscus flowers and red berries growing. 

I could go on and on and on about the beauty in the world around me. And that’s the point, actually. There are many, many, many things to see and  and call out to others, if I just keep my eyes open.   

Answering the age old question, what is happy. 

Sadly, I’ve spent many hours, days and months with my eyes closed to what’s really around me. Missing my dog. Missing my kids. And since turning a certain decade, I’ve been too busy worrying about death and endings and being sad that I’ve forgotten what happy really is. 

So, of course, I went searching on the internet. But guess what? Happiness isn’t there, no matter what book, or class, or infomercial they want to sell. The reason you can’t buy happiness as the saying goes, is because you don’t need to. It’s free. 

It always there. In the midst of a very sad moment, leaning against my cedar tree, I heard the answer to my question. Happy is right where you’re standing. I thought, sure, that’s easy. But that’s the point, it is. 

I spy a living, breathing body. I spy sunlight shimmering on the lake. I spy a duck paddling. I spy a home. 

I spy happy. And it is as easy as child’s play, I just forgot the game was to play. 

Flops Flipped

Life, as they say, sometimes hands you lemons. And as the saying goes, you’re supposed to make lemonade. I used to hate that saying because it felt like I was supposed to feel good about the bad things in life. I even got rather stubborn about it. I didn’t want anyone to trivialize my pain and, therefore, belittle the challenges in my life. 

I think I missed the point. 

The point, I believe now, is to view bad things not as good but as transformative.

Lumps, bumps and losses happen throughout life. From babyhood to adulthood, we have to leave part of our life behind to grow forward. Moving through those changes, quite literally, changes us. And we wouldn’t be living our life if it didn’t. 

I moved away from a career in early childhood development into advertising but that education made me a better mom. I might have failed throwing clay in high school, but it was failure that got me to go back to art class. 

As an artist, I flop all the time.

I throw bowls all the time, some crack and some don’t. I have researched and googled and tried new clays, new trimming ideas, new tools and still I, sometimes, get lumps and bumps and cracks. I’ve had black underglazes turn blue and brown. 

I’ve done big pinch pot sculptures that dried for months and then, blew up in the kiln. Lately, the small pinch pot sculptures I made, looked fine before firing and then shrunk and got all lumpy. 

But sometimes, my flops flip into something else. 

One of my recent flops became this scalloped edged bowl. Now it’s far from perfect, but it started me thinking about other ways I could change the shape of a bowl. I mean, why does every bowl have to be perfectly round? Flop flipped. 

Another flop was the pinch pot sculpture idea. After a few years, I gave it a try again. Fooling around one day, I created this little creature. Not a complete flop, but not exactly what I wanted. 

I kept going. I tried different clays. I tried different ways to make it. All of a sudden there was a  whole menagerie of them on my studio shelves. 

Most of them looked good, but one flopped. It cracked in several places and I was ready to throw it away. But throwing caution, to the kiln in this case, I slapped on some clear glaze and put it in a bisque fire load. Much to my surprise, he came out in one piece!  I even like the glossy glaze instead of the matte look I’d planned. 

Flip!

Life, this time, did turn a lemon into lemonade. This cracked and disfigured little creature transformed into a happy go lucky Party Animal.  

Now, I’m not saying my life is going to transform into one big party. But I think this little fellow and his buddies are going to make it a lot more fun. 

America, the Beautiful.

On the anniversary of our Independence Day, it’s hard to see the beauty out there. I know. I’ll be the first to admit these Trump years have been a new kind of hell here for so many people. If you read my blog, you know I’ve aired my fair share of angry complaints about it all. 

But this week, I want to try to search out the good, the beautiful, the love that lives right here.

Think with me for a minute. Turn off your devices. Close your eyes and breathe in the fresh air. Listen to the birds and bees and squirrels and all the life around you. As a country, we’ve worked hard to keep our air and water clean. We’ve succeeded in many ways. And in many ways, we have much more to do. 

But that’s good.  Most of us share the dream of an even better country and world.

Think of how you help others. Think of the others who’ve helped you. It doesn’t have to be grand gestures, sometimes the smallest kindness makes the biggest change. A little gentleness. A smile. Another driver who lets you in front of them. Someone who picks up something you’ve dropped in the grocery store. 

You are a good person and you’re one of many here. People who care about women and children. People who help the sick, feed the hungry and teach children to be kind and fair.  

In the deepest darkness, we all need light. 

Be that light. Show your kindness. Be understanding. See the fear around you and move on anyway. Lead by example with understanding, perseverance, strength and gentleness. 

Be true to the heart of America’s dream: a place for all to live, learn and love. Embrace the best for you and us all. 

No we can’t change the past. Yes, these last few years have been hard. But we can move forward together. America can be a beautiful place of shared wealth, health and values with safety and security for all.  

Creating Quiet

I don’t know about you, but one thing I’ve noticed lately is how loud the world is around me. I’m not talking about the birds, bees, dogs, cats, cars, trucks or even sirens in the night. I’m talking about the noise of anger and hate and fear and frustration. These noises seem to be filling the world so much lately. 

I understand it. I embrace it too. This is a tumultuous time in our country and world. While things need to be said, voices need to be heard, it’s overwhelming. Sometimes, it feels like I’m surrounded by a never-ending protest rally. 

I know, I am part of that noise, too. And my ears are ringing. 

Quite literally, my ears have been alternately ringing and completely plugged. While I have been dealing with allergies, colds and an ear infection, it occurred to me there might be more going on here. 

It came to me as a whisper. Not a thought, but a message from somewhere outside of and beyond me. From a world worried about our world, I heard the word: quiet. 

How can quiet do anything? 

It can’t. And that’s the point. By sitting, or standing, or walking, or working quietly, the space around me changes. It becomes a space in which there is possibility. An area opens up to embrace a flow of movement, like a soft, cool breeze washing away the sticky, heated debate of the day. 

Sitting here on the window seat, I am surrounded by quiet. My son’s small dog sleeps on her side, perfectly still. My granddaughter rolls to her side, sighs softly and dreams away in her now quiet world. The room is filled and yet, open. 

Openings like this are so rare in our world. And yet, so needed. 

We need this kind of room for quiet to bring us rest, yes. But in this quiet, there is also an opening for us to be, just sitting and breathing in for once, instead of out.  And yes, as the fire truck wails beyond my window, I start to jump into that fear state of mind where, I realize I live too much of my life. Maybe you do too. 

So before my mind jumps all the way out the window and chases down the street with the fire truck, I breathe in, rest my head against the wall and stay here. Here in the quiet I’ve created, in this house, in this room, on this window seat, in my mind. 

I really feel that this quality of quiet is where the true solutions are created. 

Next time I get caught up in the whirlwind of noise around me, I’ll remember the whispers. Creating answers to difficult questions comes from creating enough quiet to hear new ideas and solid solutions. 

Maybe my stuffed ears was my body creating the quiet I really needed to hear. 

Thoughts of the Week: Shit Happens, Sunsets and an American Tirade.

Shit Happens. 

People cut you off in traffic, causing an accident and damage to your car and others. Scary, yes. Maddening, yes. Fixable, definitely yes. I panicked because I have never been in an car accident in my life. The other people were calm, so obviously, they had. 

Even in bad situations, there is good in people. They were kind and helpful. They gave me a hug. And they stated the obvious and most important: nothing blew up, no one was hurt and it is all fixable. 

Sunsets are a meditation. 

Even in the most chaotic day, there is a sunset. Everyday, you and I can look outside the window and watch an evolving, ongoing light and color show. Just like every day is different, every sunset is unique to each day. 

Blues, reds, oranges, yellows, white and black all dance in and out, up and down. All before your very eyes. All you have to do is sit down and watch. Best of all, it’s always free. 

Just because shit happens, doesn’t mean we have to let shit happen. 

Ok, this is my stand up America tirade.

Yes, there is evil in the world. All you have to do is look at that big White House, you’ll see lying, cheating, greed, stealing, money laundering, racism, sexism and abuse. Our president praises the Russian mafia and dictators with nuclear bombs while putting not just our lives and our families in jeopardy, but our entire planet. As long as he makes money, he doesn’t care who gets hurt. Including the horror of using small, innocent, vulnerable children as political pawns. 

Hacking our election system is now not just an idea, it’s reality. It happened. The Russians hacked our elections to get Trump elected. That, people, is an act of war. 

Are we doing anything about it? No. 

Isn’t it about time we did? Yes. 

What can we do? Demand that our justice department, do their jobs. Follow the rules and laws of our constitution. Demand our military protect us from outside invasions. Demand our representatives do their jobs: represent all of us. Not just the corporations that are giving them money.

It’s time to be there and fight for your freedom. Demand human rights. If you see something wrong happen, step up and do something about it. Demand change. Support the news media in doing their job which is to ask the hard questions, demand answers and give us information. Do your job too, by being a responsible citizen. 

Breathe and remember that we are ALL important. 

You matter. I matter. They matter. So what you think, say and do, matters to us all. So choose your words and acts wisely. But most important, and something I forget a lot, don’t let your fears and your thoughts run the show.

Sit down. Take a deep breath. And watch the sunset. Know that though this day is ending, there is another day dawning tomorrow. Let’s all make it the best it can be, for all of us. 

Wave the Day Away.

Hassled? Feeling overwhelmed? Got a case of creative block? Here’s the cure: sit down on a random rock and watch the waves roll in and out and in and out and in again. 

I don’t mean look up every now and then while you play with your phone. I mean put your phone in your pocket, turn it on silent and listen to the breeze. If you have to do something, count the seagulls or the sand dollars. Take pictures of the driftwood. 

Better yet, let your mind drift. 

If you need to talk it out, go ahead and speak to the wind. Ask the crows your questions. Look up at that immense, empty blue sky and feel how small you are in the grand scheme of things that make up this beach, state, country, world and universe. 

Got too much on your plate? Literally? Then put on those shoes or go barefoot and walk it off. Traipse around the pockets of sand drifts. Examine the tufts of sea grass. Wind your way around the incoming waves. Jump over them or wade through them. It really doesn’t matter. Just keep your feet going and learn to follow them, instead of trying to lead. 

Remember: You are only one person among millions.  

You are as small as that speck of sand and almost as plentiful. That said, you are still important. Your life still has meaning. Just as every speck of sand creates a part of the whole beach, you create an important part of the whole world. 

You are needed. You can make a difference if you choose. Choose wisely if you can. If you can’t right now, that’s ok, too. You’ll make mistakes. You’ll feel broken with pieces missing just like the crab shell you pass by.

You can love and be loved. You can be open, helpful and, most importantly, kind. Especially to yourself.

But. You are not. The. Whole.

And isn’t that a relief? 

So today, just wave the day away.