What's So Great About 'The Moment'?

“They know how to prioritize,” he said casually, as though it were a comfortable thought worn each day. He continued to share with me matter-of-factly, “They live better than we do, they know that food, sleeping, shitting and love are the only things that matter. They actually know how to be in the moment.”

Dogs truly are in the moment, every moment. Apparently, dogs can take me there too.

My boyfriend and I had the pleasure of dog-sitting a wonderful little guy for one week. It was a week in which I noticed something shift and soften within both of us, and how we expressed ourselves, even toward one another. This little four-legged friend had in a way, transformed our household.

I am no morning person. Don’t get me wrong, I can wake up in the morning and when I do I am really nice, I’d say I’m happy even. I happen move to the tick-toc of a differently timed clock. I find getting going and getting out of the house each day somewhat difficult. Surely, I have little ease filled stretches of living like I imagine a morning person lives, but usually it’s a struggle. It has been my entire life. I don’t foresee a long lasting change with that. But, with this little friend we had staying over, I was promptly out of bed at 7:00 and by 7:05, this little guy and I were outside with the morning light, the elements, cruising the streets together. We’d return from our morning trek for some fetch, tug of war, breakfast and coffee. Well, I would enjoy coffee, then I’d ready myself for the day and whisk myself off on my commute, to my job, and finally, my return trip home. Once home I’d find myself outside with the elements, cruising the streets with my four legged friend once more watching the daylight fade away.

Everything seemed so much more enjoyable with this little dog around.

I have a hard time managing my energy with people, I have found. I get excited when people, or living things apparently, are in my space. I want to play and interact with them, really be a part of an experience together. This dog was no different. We doted on him as though he were our newborn child. Well, nearly. But, unlike most socializing, spending time with this dog I didn’t have these pesky to do lists coming up repeatedly in my head of how I should be spending my time.

The chores
The projects
The bills needing to be paid
The job search
The business start

Those things would pop up, but in a far lighter way. The punishing tone I’d often hear was absent. Instead, the voice of a sweet, slightly plump (I’d imagine) Great Aunt donning an apron, hanging laundry on a sunlit mid-May afternoon would remind me of my previously made commitments and chores.

Her voice, soft and sweet, was a pleasant reminder that I had things to do, but who I was being in this moment in time was perfectly fine and likely very good for me.

Do dogs help us feel more in touch with the here and now?

I know there is a lot of “live in the moment” talk these days, walking hand in hand with all of the inspirational /condemning memes your friends (and my friends) are always posting on social media. There is something to be said, though for living in the moment. I think it’s definitely important to get to that state, and some people can live in the moment – not all of us – and those who can – certainly don’t make it there every moment of their lives. It makes me wonder why it’s such a common directive, a common topic for discussion when it is something one should be able to do, like breathing or eating? I mean, our dogs are doing it – every day. Why can’t we.

Let’s live like dogs. I think it’s time.

Needs

I need a plan.

I have had this loose plan for a little over three years, it sounds great.

It sort of starts with “let’s get out of here!”

Unfortunately, the plan also ends there.

There is no destination or clear starting point that follows the declaration that I’ve got to get out of here, and I do.

I get distracted from my plan easily, by a change in weather, a change in conversation, a happy feeling. Anything.

I’m human and according to some, two and a half mythical creatures as well. I get distracted. I de-rail my own train, often.

I have been seeking out all of this information, outside of myself, looking for answers. Any answer that will provide me with a path of action that is both clear and safe. The only place I am really going to get that information from is within my mind and my heart.

I turn to astrology often and I turn to divination – which in turn, leads me back to myself. I am the one who ultimately has the answers. While the astrological approach may seem ridiculous to some, I feel having an awareness of current planetary influence could never be to my detriment.

So, what is the plan? What the hell are we after?

Truth is, I am not completely sure. I just know that vocationally, I have gotten very far from where I wanted to be and I am not quite sure how to get back to where I would like to be. A way of working that feels free both physically and emotionally. To conjure a way of working where ease, and beauty are co-creators in all things.

This, naturally poses the question, do I even still want to do what I felt excited by nearly fourteen years ago? I decided to be a Graphic Designer fourteen years ago. I finished my studies ten years ago and here I am.

Disgruntled.

Disillusioned

Dissatisfied

Discovering what I want.

It’s not all negative – it’s not all bad.

Discovery is almost always a lovely thing.  

For now, my plan is to commit to creating, planning and discovering what I truly need. Committing – staying focused – feeling at ease – staying open.

I think that will take me where I need to go.

Hand in hand, we’ll stroll forward.  

long, wonderfully winding days

Even by nightfall, it was incredibly warm, it was balmy even. If upper 30s can be considered balmy or incredibly warm and they could, to us. We had experienced days with the variety of cold air that assaults you the minute you walk out the door. Every bit of you fighting the urge to turn back and close the door behind you. This particular Saturday, everyone was outside. We were pleased when we arrived at a favored wandering spot, the only populated area was the dog park.

He and I wandered through the warm air, walking further on the trails than we had in a long time. Snow boots, no need for gloves and once the heat from our moving bodies caught up with us, we probably wouldn’t have needed our jackets. This walk filled the afternoon with the promise of long meandering walks and laughter filled sunlit picnics. The air felt nice, the few marks of potential wildlife enthralled us. We walked on.

I don’t last long out in the world on an empty stomach, a little piece of knowledge that could have saved us all from some intense moments in my early to mid-twenties. I didn’t want to go home just yet, the day had been so nice for us, I just needed something in my stomach and fast. Nearby, exists one of the most comforting restaurants on the outskirts of town. The Pine Cone, a truck-stop, larger than life bakery, comfort food stop. They make really good chili, among many other things. Over coffee, bowls of chili and a side order of fries, we chatted the afternoon away. Enjoying each others company, no projects, no chores, no looming to do lists, just enjoying one another.

We left and ran all over town in pursuit of a new handbag for me. I exaggerate, it felt like all over town. Really, we visited a few stores. This isn’t something either one of us are really that fond of. The amount of people out and about, just buying things was somewhat alarming to me. It’s not an activity I participate in often, it is an activity I find odd when there really are so many other things out there to be doing. But, to each their own. We did go to one store that I did find something I wanted.

At Half-Price books hours just melt away, dripping down shelves filled with titles and authors. I experienced so many incredible feelings at the book store that day. I’d walk down the aisle, slowly, looking at the many spines. Some new, some old, cracked and warn, some made of vinyl, printed paper, or canvas. Gasping, I would recognize a title, recognize an author and recall a time in my life. Going back in time, thinking of all of the friends I made and the adventures that I had in between the pages, as well as in my own life. There it was, a title I longed for, a title I had not read. These titles would take me to new places and in the future, allow me to go back in time at the sight of it.

I remembered reading his works as a youngster, the earliest recollection I have of reading his books was when I was in the seventh grade. Experiencing the mystery and magic of a summer night, storm so close the heat lighting strikes distant prairies surrounding you, the smell of soil just before it rains. All of those mysteries you create with your friends about the cemetery outside of town, the abandoned farmhouse, the old woman only seen peering through heavy hanging drapes. These pages contained the feelings all of those childlike amusements conjure. Pure magic. Everything was filled with magic when I was a twelve year old girl. This particular book I saw before me contained three novels by the great Ray Bradbury. Three novels I had never read. The Martian Chronicles, The Illustrated Man, and The Golden Apples Of The Sun. It was one of those Barnes & Nobel collections that were released about five years back. A nice maroon colored hardcover with gold, mustard and white graphics embossed on the covers and the spine. The edges of the pages were gilded, beautiful words placed on paper so smooth it feels weightless even with the gravity of Bradbury’s poetic prose. Excited, I glean the pages in sheer delight and appreciation of Bradbury's writing, I remember the many feelings I had reading this author’s works as a child.

I’ll be enjoying it.

 
Sharing my artwork is nerve wracking. I think that is the best way to describe it. On Saturday, my friend nominated me to share 3 pieces of artwork for 5 days via social media. At first, I was very excited. Oh! I was asked to share my artwork! Oh my! What do I want to share?!?

I began perusing my stock of paintings, drawings, jewelry pieces, designs and creations. I felt so excited thinking of all of the things I have made, that I have poured love into from the moment of their conception. I then began to think of how the majority of it, has never been seen by the world.

I don’t really share much of my artwork. I kind of hide it in a sense. Sometimes, I feel like I hide it from myself, the fact that I can and do make art. That I create.

This recollection/realization saddened me a touch. I felt sad for the many unfinished projects clinging to the peripherals of my heart like leaves and litter blown against a chain link fence on an overcast afternoon. I felt sad because what I had wasn’t enough. It wasn’t that my work was bad or good, it just wasn’t enough. This voice inside told me that by now, I should have so much more, so much better work.

There is just too much pressure within, to do more, to do better. This part of me that spoke up, the part that tells me it’s just not enough has some very odd preconceptions of what it means to create art. Try as I might, we’re getting to a more peaceable place with one another. As we fly through the skies together, I gently cut the heat fueling our balloon ride. Letting us fall, just slightly. Letting things slow down, just slightly to let us come back to Earth. Come back and breathe, no pressures.

The more I share my work, the easier it will be. The more comfortable it starts to feel. As long as I keep the belief that it’s enough, all will be well and I can embrace all of the loose ideas that float about me waiting for their materialization. Sharing my art isn’t all that bad. It’s actually pretty fun.

It’s my work and it is enough.

Specials

A whole seven days into the New Year, I can attest that I, without a doubt, love New Year. Riding high on the possibilities yet to unfold in the remaining 358 days of 2015, I find myself steeping in optimism, creativity and new ideas. One of the main things I love about a New Year is the specialness, or my seemingly unique need to create specialness for one day, a specialness that burns brightly through the remainder of the year.
I think that there is a great importance on reflecting on the previous year and taking consideration for what one would like to bring into the new year and what one would like to leave behind in the past. On New Years Eve this year, I was coming down with my third illness since October, which is a very rare thing for me to be so frequently ill. I stopped and asked myself what would make me feel good? Feeling good about life is something I would like to bring into the new year, and I decided that caring for my home, my houseplants and my creative self would feel the best to me. I picked up some things around the house that had been bothering me, I watered my many houseplants, had a delicious snack, painted for pleasure and kissed my sweet man at midnight.
I made it special.

It felt great, it felt like New Year. It felt special, I often think that there needs to be something special to attend, somewhere special to go. This New Year, I wanted to be at home. Home became my special place to go, my special thing to do. I realized in that moment, that with my need for things to be special, I could make them special regardless of the circumstances. Given this realization, I have vowed to make this New Year, of 2015 special, for me and the people I care about.

How do you make your days special?

Renewal & Refreshment

With a deft hand, I dusted off my long neglected blog. Four years, I cannot believe it has been over four years since I last posted any words here. To any folks who were following me, I apologize. To any new readers, welcome! I am excited to announce that I built myself a website for the sake of sharing the various works I like to do.

It’s an exciting thing, launching a new website. It’s a feeling I am not familiar with, one that could propel me at lightning speed through the thickest of humid summer nights. I have had all of my files ready to go, but I delay and I delay. Surely, the galleries all look their best in Firefox and they don’t seem to work at all in Internet Explorer (shocking, I know). Perhaps I can fix that quickly, perhaps I can just ignore it, and move on with my life. Trust that I created a website that I like.

I have an agenda here. Of course, one never builds anything without an intended use. My intention with this launch is to invite new works into my life, new communities and new opportunities. Each day, with the passing of time, the cranking out of new work, the loss of friends, and the inspiration found in every day life I am reminded how quickly all of this moves. I am reminded how there is no reason that all of us shouldn’t be out there, in the world, doing something we love, creating something we love.

That’s all I’m after, folks.

Love.

Beginnings...

I love the start of a new month, I absolutely love it.

Every month, I get incredibly jazzed about the brand new stack of days I get to play with. No, this doesn't happen with weeks, only months.

March is especially exciting to me, there are many changes that take place in March. The biggest one being the arrival (hopefully) of spring. Over the past week, I spent a fair amount outside. Enjoying the back yard of a good friend with the best host ever - Autumn, and incredibly spry yet 11 year old dog who loved to leap and bound through the snow during a game of fetch.

During one of our games, even though that week I had seen the most beautiful snow fall of my life, something else something far grander and lovelier caught my eye. What I saw filled me with excitement, promise and hope. I saw several small green buds on a young tree.

It made me happy, I know that this whole white & lifeless bit is on its way out the door. Hello March, nice to see you again.