The Muse Took a Night Off!

The lovely lady in the portrait called The Eyes of the Muse spends most of her time hanging out on the wall in our room, keeping me up nights!

She’s in charge of dreams and brilliant solutions to painting challenges and workshop designs. Even blog posts. She’s hopeful and encouraging. The flip side, in a sense, of her harsher, but well intended, alter ego, the Critic.

With considerable help from my  Intentional Creativity teacher, Maestra Shiloh Sophia, and the very wise Susan Ariel Rainbow Kennedy, the three of us have developed a relationship that works pretty well.

The Critic, who exhausted herself in my earlier years, spends most of her time in retirement. She likes Arizona where her allergies bother her less and she has no need for boots she considers to be too Ugg-ly for words.

The Muse and I send her postcards, assuring her that we’re making lovely progress here, even despite recent torrential rain and soggy basements, and that extending her vacation is absolutely no problem for us.

Lately, though, we’ve been working overtime again.

The Muse, whom I suspect may be from Australia given the hours she keeps, has a tendency to lure me out of my comfy nest of flannel sheets and handmade quilts in the wee small hours of the morning with her latest fabulous notions about the next right thing.

In a blessedly frustrating sort of way, she’s generally right and apparently concerned that I won’t remember her genius suggestions until, you know, the sun comes up at least.

She’s been feeling especially creative this week and we’ve gotten a whole lot of cool things done.

Sleeping has not been one of those things.

Last night, though, she took the night off.

I slept for 12 hours, almost straight through! I’m not sure how she convinced the dogs to cooperate with this plan, but I’m grateful anyway.

And when I brought my first cup of tea, in my favorite sunny yellow mug, into the family room where my magical chair now resides, and looked at the commission painting I’m in the midst of, I heard her whispering in my ear.

The right one, if you’re curious.

And the next step is now clear. The big field in the upper left of this farm-scape needs fixing and I know where to start.

It’s worth noting that I managed both sleep and inspiration in the same night!

Realistically, we’re going to need another step or four after this right thing, but life — and art — are often that way.

In this moment, though, it is a sunny and miraculous 68 degrees in Atlanta and Bill and I are headed out to our back deck for lunch. The dogs can come, too, and we won’t have to wait for a table.

Later, fixing the farm field, and a bit of editing while the paint dries. Yummy soup for dinner. New calendar pages to set up. Perhaps even more sleep.

Tomorrow, plumbers. Again.

In the meantime, if you click either the link where it says The Eyes of the Muse, above, or the one just below, you will be magically transported to the land of FineArtAmerica where many of my paintings are available in everything from cell phone covers to shower curtains to, well, paintings. Love to have you visit! (The cell phone covers are really cool. Even the Critic approves!) Just click on any image that calls to you and the elves will pop up a list of all the options. It’s a miracle!

 

Word(s) for 2019

Last year was the first time I had encountered the notion of a word for the year.

It felt different from a resolution which has always seemed to me like something one either kept or broke. (Mostly broke.)

A word feels friendlier to me. Less rigid. Something to which one can return over and over again.

Inspired, no doubt, by my journey with Color of Woman and Intentional Creativity teacher training, the word that found me for 2018 was intentional.

It was really helpful in the way that having a compass in a car is helpful for directionally challenged people like me. The whole notion of being intentional just kept pointing me in the direction I wanted to go.

Now that the fireworks have died down and the Prosecco has disappeared, it is clearly time for a new word.

I was beginning to think, much to my dismay, that my word for 2019 was going to be waiting. Not, of course, that it’s a bad word. It’s just kind of frustrating when what you’re waiting for is a plumber, whom we called on Friday and finally showed up today, which is a story for another day.

Inspired by the conversation going on among my paint sisters about choosing their words for 2019, I’ve been listening, contemplating my options.

I’ve finally come to a conclusion. It’s going to take two words!

The first is learning as in the quote from the fabulous sculptor, Michelangelo. (I’ve walked in the courtyard where he carved the David!!!)

I am still learning.

It’s been a favorite of mine for years.

Someone suggested to me that it might be an odd choice for someone who had just graduated from a teacher training program.

It makes perfect sense to me. I spent last year learning lots of things, among them some of the things I don’t know yet. So, the obvious next step is more learning.

The second is enough. Not only in the sense of needing two words to have enough but in the sense that I am enough.

More importantly, you are enough.

Wise enough. Creative enough. Worthy enough. Healed enough.

Which isn’t to say that there isn’t more wisdom and creativity and healing we might like. Just that we are enough, already. And worthy of pursuing our dreams.

Some intentional tech-y learning I’ve signed up for and my intentional walking shoes from last year will no doubt be helpful for my particular journey.

I also need enough time and space for my pieces of the red thread… for my callings in the world. And for me.

So do you.

Ponder a word if it seems helpful. Or two. Until you find your own, I’m happy to share mine. Especially enough.

And I’d love it if you’d leave a comment below, or email me, with the words that find you. Together, we are enough to make this year a better one in our world.

So be it.

(The art for today is a glimpse of my work in progress… an intuitive interpretation of a friend’s grandmother’s farm.)

Sue Boardman, Certified Intentional Creativity® Color of Woman Teacher