A task in week four of The Artist's Way is to write our own Artist's Prayer, after being given an example. Here's mine:
O Father in Heaven,
Thou art the Great and Supreme Creator.
All good that is and will be created comes from thy
Loving and Wise hands.
I pray that thou wilt impart thy Power in me and through me.
I will do thy bidding as thou wilt have me do.
I will share thy words, for thy words are true and powerful.
I will give life to the stories thou sendest me --
To give the characters breath of life to be real,
To be Children of thee, no matter how troubled --
That thy purposes may be fulfilled
And thy messages will be given to the world.
I am at thy disposal.
I am thine.
I give myself to thee,
For no one has greater mind of my potential than thee,
My Creator.
Thou hast created me to be here at this time with these gifts.
I give myself to thy purposes
And ask for thy blessing, direction, and guidance
That I may heal and find wholeness --
That I might heal others
And teach and deliver thy messages to them
In person and in Creativity.
I give myself to thee and thy Wisdom
And pray that my work and efforts
Will be worthy of thee
And consecrate worship to thee.
Monday, December 15, 2014
Tuesday, December 2, 2014
Overcoming Fallacy #2: "Love MUST Be Painful;" Why We Use Blocks
Going into this post, I fear becoming one of those nauseatingly sappy guys I want to kick in the balls just to see if they have any (though I'm sure several of you already consider me there and probably not just from this blog).
To recap my last post: just short of two years ago, I realized my belief that no one I would want would want me back was a complete lie and fallacy, particularly pertaining to love interest. A few months later, I came across the book Remembering Wholeness by Carol Tuttle, which rightfully taught that our beliefs create our experiences.
In approximately my eighth week of The Artist's Way, intensely in full-swing of the course, I uncovered yet another love block, which seemed to play off of, and go hand-in-hand with, my previous one. I believed love MUST be painful or else it isn't real, making me often feel that love is a joke. I was frightened to pursue love. Still, I wanted it, like anyone else. I believed this about love, but didn't want to.
Part of this came forward from watching the television show Married at First Sight and dreaming of the day when I, too, could argue in a kitchen with my beloved and just be sick at the very thought and presence of them. It felt energizing. It felt alive. It felt...less than what I thought I should aspire to, even if it made me feel a part of everyone else. I mentally played with and analyzed my perceived concepts of married life. As things occurred to me, I explored them in my stream-of-conscious morning pages:
To recap my last post: just short of two years ago, I realized my belief that no one I would want would want me back was a complete lie and fallacy, particularly pertaining to love interest. A few months later, I came across the book Remembering Wholeness by Carol Tuttle, which rightfully taught that our beliefs create our experiences.
In approximately my eighth week of The Artist's Way, intensely in full-swing of the course, I uncovered yet another love block, which seemed to play off of, and go hand-in-hand with, my previous one. I believed love MUST be painful or else it isn't real, making me often feel that love is a joke. I was frightened to pursue love. Still, I wanted it, like anyone else. I believed this about love, but didn't want to.
Part of this came forward from watching the television show Married at First Sight and dreaming of the day when I, too, could argue in a kitchen with my beloved and just be sick at the very thought and presence of them. It felt energizing. It felt alive. It felt...less than what I thought I should aspire to, even if it made me feel a part of everyone else. I mentally played with and analyzed my perceived concepts of married life. As things occurred to me, I explored them in my stream-of-conscious morning pages:
(August 31, 2014) "I don't like to talk about hard topics with [Spock]...It doesn't always feel safe but almost feels more painful. I think [Spock] loves painfully. [Spock] makes love hurt. It hurts to love. I think I've picked that up from [Spock]...without realizing it. It's like being afraid to love always because of the anticipation of the hurt that will come. Is that what life has taught [Spock]? If you love you will find hurt? What a fallacy and bad lesson. To love is to find joy and celebration. It must be this way...It's not just romantic love. It's all love. But I think I've mostly translated it into romantic love and family -- that if I love them, it means to hurt and be hurt by [them]...How do you work through...conception passed on to you?...I feel like this is huge!...Other forms of familial and romantic love I've seen are always gripey and short-tempered -- another form of saying love is pain. Love is pain! No, it's not...Pain is a warning. Not a result or plea bargain. Pain should not be the result of love, unless there is something to be fixed. Sometimes that [which needs] fixing, I think, is simply our attitude. But whatever it is, it must be addressed. We have felt the warning. We should listen to it and make appropriate changes. Do not live in pain! Life is not meant to live painfully.
Monday, December 1, 2014
Overcoming Fallacy #1: "No One I'd Want Would Want Me;" Our Beliefs Create Our Experiences
Do you have those moments when you realize deep beliefs you held on to were utter lies? It shakes your world, as your reality is called into question. Why shouldn't it, when it is our beliefs that create our perception on reality? Change your beliefs and you change your reality.
Still, that moment of recognition comes with its sting, as the old you dies and a new you is born.
Since my tween years, I believed that no one whom I would want would want me back. This was mostly romantically-speaking, but overran to other relationships. I had actually been verbally telling myself this for years, knowing how wrong it possibly was but mostly believing it all the same.
As a result, I never pursued anyone or stuck my neck into the dating world, though I didn't really have to when those I desired to go after (and then some -- well, many others -- actually, it was more like a constant stream...) were already attempting to pursue me. I didn't realize it at the time, but I see that I did things (even odd things) to ruin and mess up the situations that were often date-y -ish, but not. (You modern daters know what gray area I'm talking about; where you spend so much time together and know so much about each other you might as well have been "dating"). I ruined them because I had a deep belief it would be "too good to be true" or that I didn't deserve to be a part of that -- self-sabotaging fears. So, I never reached out to seriously or formally date anyone, but when people tried or proposed that with me, I ran for the hills.
Nearly two years ago, I was living in my parents' home immediately after graduating college and after having endured an incredibly emotional, busy year (which included the deaths of both my elderly grandmothers and the suicide of my dearest friend; I was in rough, delicate shape -- perfect for awakenings).
Still, that moment of recognition comes with its sting, as the old you dies and a new you is born.
 |
| An excerpt from Remembering Wholeness by Carol Tuttle |
As a result, I never pursued anyone or stuck my neck into the dating world, though I didn't really have to when those I desired to go after (and then some -- well, many others -- actually, it was more like a constant stream...) were already attempting to pursue me. I didn't realize it at the time, but I see that I did things (even odd things) to ruin and mess up the situations that were often date-y -ish, but not. (You modern daters know what gray area I'm talking about; where you spend so much time together and know so much about each other you might as well have been "dating"). I ruined them because I had a deep belief it would be "too good to be true" or that I didn't deserve to be a part of that -- self-sabotaging fears. So, I never reached out to seriously or formally date anyone, but when people tried or proposed that with me, I ran for the hills.
Nearly two years ago, I was living in my parents' home immediately after graduating college and after having endured an incredibly emotional, busy year (which included the deaths of both my elderly grandmothers and the suicide of my dearest friend; I was in rough, delicate shape -- perfect for awakenings).
Thursday, November 20, 2014
Utah Posts Addendum
I found something I thought was really awesome in rereading the fourth week's chapter in The Artist's Way (I'm supposed to reread it to complete the very last task of the course). It really hit me, because it basically described and foreshadowed my experiences of going back to Utah (weeks nine and ten) and my artist date on USU campus (week eleven). That period was all explained!
"Shifts in taste and perception frequently accompany shifts in identity...By tossing out the old and unworkable, we make way for the new and suitable...When the search-and-discard impulse seizes you, two crosscurrents are at work: the old you is leaving and grieving, while the new you celebrates and grows strong. As with any rupture, there is both tension and relief...Long-frozen feelings thaw, melt, cascade, flood, and often overrun their container (you). You may find yourself feeling volatile and changeable. You are.
"...Think of yourself as an accident victim walking away from a crash: your old life has crashed and burned; your new life isn't apparent yet. You may feel yourself to be temporarily without a vehicle. Just keep walking (83).
"...Many of these [changes and shifts] will not be recognizable at first as healing. In fact, they may seem crazy and even destructive. At best, they will seem eccentric...You may well be experiencing a sense of both bafflement and faith. You are no longer stuck, but you cannot tell where you are going" (84-85).Interesting stuff for that obvious period of change and seeking the new. I see it reflective of other times of change in my life, as well.
Monday, November 17, 2014
Things I Am Not Allowed #2: Casual Sex
The second item I listed in this series was, "Sex every beautiful thing in sight." Now, I don't sit around or browse around and just wish I could bone everyone around me. But for an honest creative recovery, I should be completely honest, and in complete honesty, sometimes I have my moments, though that is not typically in the forefront of my mind when I meet people. Still, I am human. And for selecting this series, I was going for unfiltered, first to mind -- not over-thought.
So, I took to my doodling method of faith with a swish here, line there, zigzag across that. And lo and behold, before me I presented my attitude toward sex and having it with every beautiful person that crossed my path.
...Did I mention it was a fairly abstract representation? Let's browse it. Remember, this is only my attitude.
The entire picture is a stage, with curtains being drawn back and the front edge outlined at the bottom. Sex is a performance. There are aspects of showmanship and ability, even in the chase, or game of love. Some make it such a shallow thing that it is all show and loses its savor and mocks that which is honest, true, and pure.
Monday, November 10, 2014
Things I Am Not Allowed #1: Romance, Dear To My Heart!!!
I've never considered myself a visual artist and still don't, despite my recent found affinity for doodling. However, as I recently discussed, I discovered it as a communication with myself, even my deeper, subconscious self, to express and release how I was feeling and to bring things more to my attention, similar to the morning pages (and other creative pursuits of mine).
One striking task from the eighth week of The Artist's Way, though I admittedly got to it much later, is to list five things you are not allowed to do, such as kill your boss, scream in church, or go outside naked. Next, put that thing on paper, whether in writing or something visual, and then put music on and dance it.
The first item on my list was something romantic but very specific. IT was something I had been casually trying to avoid, so it didn't overload or overwhelm me emotionally -- keeping a cool head to not agonize myself or look like a fool or screw myself over. You could say that at times I tried to deny its significance and importance to me.
I took to visualizing performing this adventurous action and let that image and energy flow through me. As I felt the thrill and sentiment of the event, I took to my doodling in faith -- slide a line here, dash there, round this to the other segment, work my way around and through.. Then, I felt prompted that the picture was done. I stepped back and looked at what I'd drawn. ...A heart.
One striking task from the eighth week of The Artist's Way, though I admittedly got to it much later, is to list five things you are not allowed to do, such as kill your boss, scream in church, or go outside naked. Next, put that thing on paper, whether in writing or something visual, and then put music on and dance it.
The first item on my list was something romantic but very specific. IT was something I had been casually trying to avoid, so it didn't overload or overwhelm me emotionally -- keeping a cool head to not agonize myself or look like a fool or screw myself over. You could say that at times I tried to deny its significance and importance to me.
I took to visualizing performing this adventurous action and let that image and energy flow through me. As I felt the thrill and sentiment of the event, I took to my doodling in faith -- slide a line here, dash there, round this to the other segment, work my way around and through.. Then, I felt prompted that the picture was done. I stepped back and looked at what I'd drawn. ...A heart.
Monday, November 3, 2014
USU Campus: The Worst Artist Date [Condensed]
Utah hates me.
The following is evidence of that which is claimed:
Ugh. Okay! It doesn't hate me. It just knows I'm meant for someplace else.
Let me add the disclaimer that I have met some very wonderful people throughout the entire state, and they are not what I'm talking about. Now, let us commence into negativity that has silver linings:
As we have already established, I was recalled to Utah after a two month stint in California. I did not want to be there. And by my second Friday, I had grown incredibly antsy with the situation and with other aspects of my life and needed to get out of my parents' house (which selling fell through, causing my Utah visit to be extended by a month. Joy..). I embarked on a quickly decided artist date.*
I popped over to 1st Dam in Logan. And after seeing the pond crowded with end-of-summer-goers and exploring the not-so-much-to-explore there (I had never been there as an activity), I felt at a loss for this valuable, "uplifting" time with my artist-child and drove off (...a cliff. Kidding!). Where should I go? My plans were foiled. I communed with my artist and wound up browsing Hasting's and then scourging the rest of the valley for shoes in stores I had not yet hit. Still, no luck with the shoes. Honestly, how could the selections in this entire valley feel like crap to me?*
Nighttime hit, and I felt extremely dissatisfied. Treat yo'self, clicked within me, though I didn't know what that meant with what options I had, so I wound up driving through nasty Arby's for a chocolate shake and curly fries, which I took to USU (Utah State University) campus. I settled on a cement bench at the top of the Old Main Hill stairs.*
I chowed and looked over as much of the valley as I could in the dark, lit only by street and campus lamps.* I pondered an odd experience I had riding through Main Street in Logan on the way to the Lagoon amusement park the previous Saturday. It was like the buildings recognized me and grew panicky. You're not supposed to be here. You left! YOU need to be gone, they rustled.
I don't know how else to explain it. It was very weird. And yet, it was so distinct and strong.*
The following is evidence of that which is claimed:
Ugh. Okay! It doesn't hate me. It just knows I'm meant for someplace else.
Let me add the disclaimer that I have met some very wonderful people throughout the entire state, and they are not what I'm talking about. Now, let us commence into negativity that has silver linings:
I popped over to 1st Dam in Logan. And after seeing the pond crowded with end-of-summer-goers and exploring the not-so-much-to-explore there (I had never been there as an activity), I felt at a loss for this valuable, "uplifting" time with my artist-child and drove off (...a cliff. Kidding!). Where should I go? My plans were foiled. I communed with my artist and wound up browsing Hasting's and then scourging the rest of the valley for shoes in stores I had not yet hit. Still, no luck with the shoes. Honestly, how could the selections in this entire valley feel like crap to me?*
Nighttime hit, and I felt extremely dissatisfied. Treat yo'self, clicked within me, though I didn't know what that meant with what options I had, so I wound up driving through nasty Arby's for a chocolate shake and curly fries, which I took to USU (Utah State University) campus. I settled on a cement bench at the top of the Old Main Hill stairs.*
I chowed and looked over as much of the valley as I could in the dark, lit only by street and campus lamps.* I pondered an odd experience I had riding through Main Street in Logan on the way to the Lagoon amusement park the previous Saturday. It was like the buildings recognized me and grew panicky. You're not supposed to be here. You left! YOU need to be gone, they rustled.
I don't know how else to explain it. It was very weird. And yet, it was so distinct and strong.*
USU Campus: The Worst Artist Date [Unabridged]
Utah hates me.
The following is evidence of that which is claimed:
Ugh. Okay! It doesn't hate me. It just knows I'm meant for someplace else. For all I know it could just be a Cache Valley-Logan thing.
Let me add the disclaimer that I have met some very wonderful people throughout the entire state, and they are not what I'm talking about. Now, let us commence into negativity that has silver linings:
As we have already established, I was recalled to Utah after a two month stint in California. I did not want to be there. And by my second Friday, I had grown incredibly antsy with the situation and with other aspects of my life and needed to get out of my parents' house (which selling fell through, causing my Utah visit to be extended by a month. Joy..). I embarked on a quickly decided artist date (almost panicky in my immediacy; I think it may have scared my aging parents some) before I would meet friends for a small get-together later in the night.
I popped over to 1st Dam in Logan. And after seeing the pond crowded with end-of-summer-goers and exploring the not-so-much-to-explore there (I had never been there as an activity), I felt at a loss for this valuable, "uplifting" time with my artist-child and drove off (...a cliff. Kidding!). Where should I go? My plans were foiled. I communed with my artist and wound up browsing Hasting's and then scourging the rest of the valley for shoes in stores I had not yet hit. Still, no luck with the shoes. Honestly, how could the selections in this entire valley feel like crap to me? (Actually, I had found nice shoes, but they were like ones I'd had before, making them a no-go for me. Change and movement, remember?)
Nighttime hit, and I felt extremely dissatisfied. Treat yo'self, clicked within me, though I didn't know what that meant with what options I had, so I wound up driving through nasty Arby's for a chocolate shake and curly fries, which I took to USU (Utah State University) campus. Annoying freshmen hogged the corner of campus I desired to go, where I could look out over the entire valley, so I settled on a cement bench at the top of the Old Main Hill stairs with companions of two couples -- one married and expecting, the other seemingly engaged.
Donning my new pink jacket, I chowed down, swinging my legs like a child as I lapped up the chocolate shake. I looked over as much of the valley as I could in the dark, lit only by street and campus lamps, and thought of that issue that pressed hard for my artist date to happen immediately. Patience is what I was instructed, as has always been the answer to this months-old issue.
I pondered an odd experience I had riding through Main Street in Logan on the way to the Lagoon amusement park the previous Saturday. It was like the buildings recognized me and grew panicky. You're not supposed to be here. You left. YOU need to be gone, they rustled.
Gee, thanks for the warm homecoming, I sent back.
The following is evidence of that which is claimed:
Ugh. Okay! It doesn't hate me. It just knows I'm meant for someplace else. For all I know it could just be a Cache Valley-Logan thing.
Let me add the disclaimer that I have met some very wonderful people throughout the entire state, and they are not what I'm talking about. Now, let us commence into negativity that has silver linings:
I popped over to 1st Dam in Logan. And after seeing the pond crowded with end-of-summer-goers and exploring the not-so-much-to-explore there (I had never been there as an activity), I felt at a loss for this valuable, "uplifting" time with my artist-child and drove off (...a cliff. Kidding!). Where should I go? My plans were foiled. I communed with my artist and wound up browsing Hasting's and then scourging the rest of the valley for shoes in stores I had not yet hit. Still, no luck with the shoes. Honestly, how could the selections in this entire valley feel like crap to me? (Actually, I had found nice shoes, but they were like ones I'd had before, making them a no-go for me. Change and movement, remember?)
Nighttime hit, and I felt extremely dissatisfied. Treat yo'self, clicked within me, though I didn't know what that meant with what options I had, so I wound up driving through nasty Arby's for a chocolate shake and curly fries, which I took to USU (Utah State University) campus. Annoying freshmen hogged the corner of campus I desired to go, where I could look out over the entire valley, so I settled on a cement bench at the top of the Old Main Hill stairs with companions of two couples -- one married and expecting, the other seemingly engaged.
Donning my new pink jacket, I chowed down, swinging my legs like a child as I lapped up the chocolate shake. I looked over as much of the valley as I could in the dark, lit only by street and campus lamps, and thought of that issue that pressed hard for my artist date to happen immediately. Patience is what I was instructed, as has always been the answer to this months-old issue.
I pondered an odd experience I had riding through Main Street in Logan on the way to the Lagoon amusement park the previous Saturday. It was like the buildings recognized me and grew panicky. You're not supposed to be here. You left. YOU need to be gone, they rustled.
Gee, thanks for the warm homecoming, I sent back.
Monday, October 27, 2014
Stagnant Utah and the Blue (Green) Hair Fiasco
I hate Utah.
Okay. I don't hate it. I'm just not fond of it. Or, it hates
me.. I'm getting ahead of myself.
I'm a mover. I love movement and love lots of change and
keeping things going. I wasn't doing that so much in rural Utah and didn't know how
to in my stagnant community, where everyone's today is the same as yesterday
and everyone's tomorrow will be the same as today. So, moving to California
three months ago was great! I started The Artist's Way and was seeing
real changes, incredible changes. I was moving and freeing myself, pumped to
keep going.
 |
| Found this pretty, hilarious shirt while Utah shopping. ..Kinda wish I would've gotten it. |
And it was! It became my artist date for my ninth week in The
Artist's Way. I rode on a train (with sweet, chatty Girl Scouts), a bus,
and an airplane. I hadn't flown in thirteen years, which was way too long after
airports and airplanes had become a kind second home growing up around the
world. What a fun activity! It felt right and tickled me all over just sitting
in the airport terminal. When we took off, I felt the exhilarating sink in my
tummy of accelerating and leaving the ground. Then, I was served drinks and
snacks, as I worked on tasks for The Artist's Way and viewed the
beautiful world from thousands of feet off the ground. I felt like I was riding a classy and smooth amusement park ride.
And then, the airline's rear wheels touched down in Salt
Lake City, and I recalled Marlin in Finding Nemo realizing the light
he's playing with belongs to an anglerfish, "Good feeling's gone..."
Not only did I lose the good feeling, but I was angry. And I grew in anxiety,
as my thoughts raced with, I don't want to be here. I recalled familiar
feelings that I'd been freeing myself from of being as trapped, concealed, and
hidden as the majestic Utah mountains did to all its civilized valleys. This
led to guilt as my parents happily greeted me and took me to dinner.
Tuesday, October 21, 2014
All Things Lovely: Treating Myself as a Precious Object
This world is a lovely place. Can you imagine describing it to someone or something that has never been here? Can you imagine sitting in a space vessel prepping them to see our world? What would you say? Would you describe social aspects? Inventions/Technology? Politics? Loneliness? Morons? How do you see the world? What makes you see it that way? Could it possibly be beautiful? And if you already see its beauty, could you possibly see it even lovelier? If you know it's beautiful, do you take moments to acknowledge how simply gracious it is?
Something The Artist's Way has helped me with is allowing myself to take in what is lovely (#FirstWorldProblems). This wasn't completely foreign to me. I saw the Earth's beauty. I acknowledged it was there. But I can't say that I allowed it for myself.
Why didn't I? It was created for me. I had always been taught it was created for me. I believed it was created for me. How had I forgotten to allow lovely things for myself?
Indeed, a mantra The Artist's Way advises to its students is, "Treating myself as a precious object will make me strong" (126). But wait. Isn't life supposed to be difficult? Aren't we supposed to endure trials and hardships so we may be strong? Isn't strength something that must be earned?! Surely, it can't be a handout to those who baby themselves. It's not that simple. We're grownups. We're adults. We make the world and we say life isn't easy. And yet, "Suffer little children to come unto me...for such is the kingdom of God" (Luke 18:16). If we are building God's kingdom on Earth and living as He directs under His wisdom, would He really want us to be hard on ourselves? If we are to be kind to others and serve them and we are to love our neighbor as ourselves, then shouldn't we be kind to ourselves and love ourselves, too? Are we guilty of neglecting ourselves? The Artist's Way creator Julia Cameron shares, "Blocked creatives are often the Cinderellas of the world...Keep Cinderella but focus on giving yourself the glass slipper" (111).
There is strength in gentleness. It is in soft gentleness that we hear ourselves, that we tune in to the still small voice. There is strength in taking a moment and doing lovely things for yourself. There is strength in being kind to yourself.
No student can pass through The Artist's Way without facing this time and again. No matter what we perceive about ourselves or what we think we deserve, there is enough loveliness for us. There is enough love for us. There is enough money, opportunities, place, friends. If we are true believers of an Almighty, why would we limit His power? That power is not a pool that is being drained.
Something The Artist's Way has helped me with is allowing myself to take in what is lovely (#FirstWorldProblems). This wasn't completely foreign to me. I saw the Earth's beauty. I acknowledged it was there. But I can't say that I allowed it for myself.
Why didn't I? It was created for me. I had always been taught it was created for me. I believed it was created for me. How had I forgotten to allow lovely things for myself?
 |
| Self-nurturing time with Carol Tuttle and some lovelies in a fort. |
There is strength in gentleness. It is in soft gentleness that we hear ourselves, that we tune in to the still small voice. There is strength in taking a moment and doing lovely things for yourself. There is strength in being kind to yourself.
No student can pass through The Artist's Way without facing this time and again. No matter what we perceive about ourselves or what we think we deserve, there is enough loveliness for us. There is enough love for us. There is enough money, opportunities, place, friends. If we are true believers of an Almighty, why would we limit His power? That power is not a pool that is being drained.
Monday, October 13, 2014
Happy National Coming Out Day! ..Am I Late?
Okay, okay. There's something that I've been going through that I haven't been completely forward about. I've dropped hints, mainly because it's been a big part of my life lately. I haven't always known how open I should be about it, as it is a private, personal journey much of the time, and it is something huge that can affect the rest of my life! However, since much of my outline for this blog will deal with this journey, I think it is probably best to give some background so we are all caught up, particularly with lingo. I feel it is finally time to come out and admit it...
...I am a student of The Artist's Way.
Ha! Some of you thought I was going to admit something else that so many have already supposed. Well, not today, sucka! I'll save that for another time..
The Artist's Way is a spiritually-based creative recovery self-help book structured as a 12-week course. It is written by Julia Cameron, an author-filmmaker-teacher who interestingly was married to film director Martin Scorsese in the 70's, even having a daughter with him. The course gains insights from Julia's own life (like, her alcoholism and drug addiction; she's been sober since 1978), as well as other artists' experiences, to teach creative unblocking in reaching higher, more constant creative potential with emphasis on God, Mind, Vishnu, Universe, Flying Spaghetti Monster, whatever spiritual electricity has been useful to you.
Arguably, even by Julia, the course is not just for artists. Businesspersons, lawyers, and other professionals have reportedly found help from the course as they have freed themselves from doubts and fears that clogged their system of operation for their profession -- their needed creativity specific to their field. We are all creative beings created by the Great Creator. We have His potential in us and are meant to use it. We are happier, more fulfilled, when we use it. Julia's view is that our creativity is inseparable from our spirituality. I couldn't agree more, having recognized and considered this previously.
God is the Great Creator, the Great Artist. Artists love artists. Why, then, would He not want to support them, despite common fallacies and negative stigma against the artist's well-being? To look to Him is to open yourself up to greater creativity and to trust. It is here that gentle but powerful changes can be expected in one's life. Creating is not to be feared. If we take care of the quantity, God will take care of the quality, even if it is just a stepping stone or breakthrough to something greater.
...I am a student of The Artist's Way.
Ha! Some of you thought I was going to admit something else that so many have already supposed. Well, not today, sucka! I'll save that for another time..
Arguably, even by Julia, the course is not just for artists. Businesspersons, lawyers, and other professionals have reportedly found help from the course as they have freed themselves from doubts and fears that clogged their system of operation for their profession -- their needed creativity specific to their field. We are all creative beings created by the Great Creator. We have His potential in us and are meant to use it. We are happier, more fulfilled, when we use it. Julia's view is that our creativity is inseparable from our spirituality. I couldn't agree more, having recognized and considered this previously.
God is the Great Creator, the Great Artist. Artists love artists. Why, then, would He not want to support them, despite common fallacies and negative stigma against the artist's well-being? To look to Him is to open yourself up to greater creativity and to trust. It is here that gentle but powerful changes can be expected in one's life. Creating is not to be feared. If we take care of the quantity, God will take care of the quality, even if it is just a stepping stone or breakthrough to something greater.
Thursday, October 9, 2014
...Why Am I Even Doing This?
Heaven knows why I'm starting this blog. I seriously must be crazy, as determined in this conversation with my good friend David:
Really, I don't need another hobby. But if you need one and are good at finishing and following through with projects, I have a myriad waiting for you. That said, who knows how often I'll post. It may be as inconsistent as my music blog, Pop Music Mania, but I'll try to keep up in some way. For starters, it would probably help if I'm brief, unlike my other inconsistent but personal blog Adventures of a Flunking Honor Student, which has been dead and closed from my publishing, hence the possible use of this blog.
So, the immediate question, as mentioned in the first sentence, comes down to this: why?
And the immediate answer is this: to express and share.
And to wonder: Am I grown up, yet?
Really, I don't need another hobby. But if you need one and are good at finishing and following through with projects, I have a myriad waiting for you. That said, who knows how often I'll post. It may be as inconsistent as my music blog, Pop Music Mania, but I'll try to keep up in some way. For starters, it would probably help if I'm brief, unlike my other inconsistent but personal blog Adventures of a Flunking Honor Student, which has been dead and closed from my publishing, hence the possible use of this blog.
So, the immediate question, as mentioned in the first sentence, comes down to this: why?
And the immediate answer is this: to express and share.
And to wonder: Am I grown up, yet?
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