Category: Art Journey

So… there’s a lot going on around here, and a lot more hatching, as it were. It seems The Muse decided she needs reinforcements!

You see, I had a dream. (Which feels like a seasonally appropriate kind of event, on the eve of the day when we, in the USA, remember Dr. King!) I suspect though, that my dream may have at least started out a bit differently than his might have.

First, somebody you need to meet and a bit of history…

This is Pearl. She was a gift from an aunt for my first Christmas. I was 10 months old.

Pearl became the friend who helped me get through a childhood full of moves and changes. She was always there. It wasn’t an easy life for her.

To begin with, her brand name from the toy company was Poor Pitiful Pearl. Really! Rumor has it that she came with a fancy dress in addition to the original version of the one in the photo.

My dad, apparently, didn’t like the fancy one. I have no memory of it.

A puppy chewed one of her thumbs off. My sister, who was mad at me, snatched her bald on a bad day.

Years ago, her original dress literally dry-rotted and I whipped up an imitation out of a handy bandana.

Pearl has, apparently been paying pretty close attention lately. You see, there’s been a whole lot of conversation about the new program Pearl’s honorary Aunt Natalie and I are creating.

Things like why it matters – especially now – and who to invite and how to explain what we’re doing.

In my dream, Pearl began with this:

I think your beloveds might relate to my story!

She had a point! And we’ll get to the story in a minute.

First I had to go hunt up our new Intern. She was camped out on top of the dresser in the guest room/closet, looking just like she does in the photo, above. I was shocked by how grungy she’d gotten.

We started with a bath. Then I washed her dress. And re-braided what’s left of her hair, complete with red threads. By then, she was ready to say more. (I could tell she’d been soaking up a lot of what’s been happening around here for the last several years!)

I began with a question: Why now?

There are so many things that feel hard in the world. I’m tired of all the sad, tragic, helpless, hopeless things going on. I’m worried about people who feel like I do. Powerless, I guess. And I want to help. I need to help. I want to help others move on from old labels and losses and fears. To listen to their own deep wisdom.

The next question was obvious: How would you start?

We need to help people remember the magic – the tools – they already have! And make space for anyone who is struggling to admit they have things that they want, even when so many people aren’t here anymore. To remind them that it’s okay to still have dreams and needs, and to ask for help! Besides, some of us are going to have to do more than we’ve been doing… and that sounds scary! Then we’ll go on to new magic!

All of which is quite a mouthful – even in a dream – from a doll in her early 60’s who has clearly been rooting through my bookshelves when I wasn’t looking! And she’s right!

So, Medicine Basket, your way… unsticking stuck ___________________ stuff!

Then, Pearl, who’s on your side, gently suggested that you might be curious about what kind of stuff you could unstick.

That’s easy! Pearl and Natalie and I are so hoping you’ll actually click the button. You see, we do have a dream…

That many, many of us will claim our medicine and get unstuck enough to go for our big dreams! If not now, when???

ps… Pearl has already signed up!

pps… The Muse wants me to remind you that she’s the visionary one in the big painting at the top who was wise enough to expand the team!

Meet Griffin! One of my grand-cats. Often sweet and cuddly. Just as often, a whirling dervish with a fetish for climbing trees, aka prized house plants.

I am, in this moment, giving thanks for all my recent training in the herding of cats. (Griffin has a sister named Raven. Ditto on the cuddly dervish thing!)

That training helped me put medicine in my basket for this very moment in time.

We have a high wind/winter weather warning in Georgia. Well, warning might be a bit optimistic. It’s really cold and windy. The trees – very old, very tall pine trees – in my back yard are dancing in a way that would be lovely if it weren’t quite so close to the house. And the power lines.

And I am in the middle of a launch. Not through the air like a kitten, so much, but the kind where dreams and plans get born to make a difference in the world.

It’s been a bit of a trip.

Three dear, busy, creative women (and a doll!) separated by 4 hours in the conventions of time. Lots of other pressing things on our lists. Plus, a similar weather warning in Nova Scotia!

And a voice whispering inside me… Model what you hope to teach!

So, with thanks to Steve Glenn, and my personal conviction that control is most often an illusion and, on our best days, we have influence… I’m making a new plan.

Which is, I suppose, a lot like maximizing my influence!

The blog post waiting eagerly backstage for today, is on hold. (Hopefully, only until tomorrow. Bonus!)

Our team now has space for a couple of deep breaths, some more testing, and a nap – or three!

And, when you get to read about our new adventure, all the bells and whistles will be working. Probably!

In this moment, having had a recent power outage experience, I’ve turned the thermostat up so that we have some more warm stashed away in case we need it.

The big beasties have made their first out and down adventure for the day and are back to keeping the floor from escaping.

I’m wearing the InstantHot gizmo out, filling thermos bottles, having not enjoyed a decided lack of tea during our last rustic adventure.

And it’s REALLY raining, now. In fact, it sounds a bit crispy.

I’m also giving thanks for the blessings which make it possible for me to try to adapt, rather than just to endure.

So, prayer dots. Especially for those who are cold and without homes or hot water. For those who have fewer choices. And for the work and witness of Dr. King, and all those prophets in his visionary lineage, who have helped me to see more clearly.

Stay tuned…

ps… If you haven’t had a chance to go on the Intentional Grandmother Archetype quiz adventure yet, now could be great! Grand-Elders of all sorts and even very brave Grandfathers welcome!

The sorting and re-arranging goes on.

Progress abounds. And more would be okay, too!

Have spent a fair amount of time tearing old mixed media journals apart. Keep what I still need. Reclaim blank paper for more art. Recycle the rest.

It would be easier on my achey wrists to just toss the whole things, but I don’t seem able to.

Here’s an amazingly timely surprise I discovered wandering through one of those old journals. A timely surprise, dated October 27, 2016!

Imagine blue ink on white watercolor paper with a scattering of proofreader’s marks…

Standing on the Edge

I am standing on the edge.

Toes curled under.

Hanging on.

Like climbing too high on a ladder.

Trying to decide if I’m terrified.

Or excited.

Knowing that, in my body, the experience is the same.

Knowing that whoever decided we could only feel one feeling at a time was wrong!

Knowing that this is neither good news,

Nor bad.

The wise old man on the mountain was right.

Trying to glimpse the beyond which is past the edge.

I like beyond.

I like creating.

Abracadabra!

I will make something of the word.

Though I may paint a bit more first.

I am standing on the edge.

Hoping I’m excited!

-Sue Boardman

I feel this, in so many ways, even more, in this moment, than I did when I wrote it.

This world — the context in which we live and create and grieve and hope — was unimaginable for so many of us just five years ago.

And yet, here we are. Many, many of us needing help. New strategies. New community. New hope.

As I mentioned, my friend, Natalie Moyes, and I have a plan. And there’s lots more info to come. Shortly!

For now, just in case you learned the same silly thing I did somewhere along the way, whoever said we could only feel one feeling at a time was, indeed, wrong. And there is hope.

For all of us.

When we’re ready.

ps… the painting is called In the Beginning… aka, Our Lady of Bountiful Earth. She’s moved from the hall to the library, presiding over our new intentional space for Health and Abundance.

pps… just in case you’re feeling a need for a bit of intentional space in your world, she’s got friends available for adoption. Just check FierceArtWithHeart for all kinds of inspiration, from mugs for your favorite cuppa to original paintings!

… of LOTS of things!

In my case, all this beginning involved more than a bit of saying thank you and moving on from some former things. Things in my external world.

If there was a prize for the most recycling in a single day, I would have won for yesterday… at least for a Grammy with mobility challenges. (Already praying for recycling folks on Wednesday!)

And, while my back and hips are more than a bit cranky at the moment, all of the What? and the How? of my sorting and re-arranging feels really great because it’s attached – at least in my awareness – to my Why?

You see, there’s an answer to the Why? that I’m really excited about. One of those answers that sounds like a rather odd word but is actually the key to more things than even I know at the moment.

Are you ready???

PRISMA!!!

Yep! Musea’s new Intentional Creativity® Practitioner training is beginning and I am thrilled beyond mere words to be part of it.

It has to do with what I call Unsticking stuck stuff®. Well, really with helping people gather a basket full of ways to get where they long to be when they’ve tried and tried and not quite gotten there before.

It has to do with something called neuroplasticity which is a fancy way of saying that our brains really can learn new paths to help us get where we want to go.

If you’ve known me a while, you may remember the story about walking out the front door and taking exactly the same path to the mailbox, every day. It makes, in my literal case, a rut in the garden. And, because it “worked” yesterday, we humans have a tendency to stay in the rut when we could, instead, wander by the blooming rose bush, or pick some herbs for dinner.

Well, you get the drift.

For now, though, there’s another Why? A bigger one. You already know the answer…

To help empower Grand-Elders to survive and thrive in this world so that they can help empower the littles they love the most to survive and thrive now, and into the unknown future.

I’m setting out on the PRISMA adventure so that I’ll have even more medicine in my basket for doing just that because, you know, I have two granddaughters growing up in this world!

And things are already changing!

The painting, above, is very early under-layers of a journey called Anthropas, which is part of our learning.

I can’t tell you what it is, just yet, but I can, like the littles you love, tell you about it.

It’s the result of inviting my brain to play. It’s what happened when I picked up a big, juicy paintbrush and asked my brain to convince my arm to make circles.

First clock-wise. Then the other-wise. (You really can get there both ways!)

This is not about making your geometry teacher happy. It’s about learning by playing with Intention. Like dancing with the brush.

And it’s fun. Fun that changes real things.

Here’s the good news!

Part of the PRISMA adventure includes working with people. And groups. Soon!

You’ve probably heard about the upcoming group adventure with my IC Sister, Natalie Moyes, called Medicine Basket Your Way… unsticking stuck stuff. Stay tuned!

And, just in case the group thing feels hard to manage, I also have space for some adventurous individual clients, ready to unstick some stuff that’s been holding them back from living the Why? in their hearts. Or, maybe, claiming the Why?

If you’re curious, I’d love to chat with you! Half an hour of discovering, as my gift to you, brave soul. Here’s the link to my calendar. Or email me… suesvoice@gmail.com

ps… PRISMA work happens with simple, accessible materials like mixed media or watercolor paper & watercolor paints/markers. If you’ve been holding off on experiencing Intentional Creativity® out of concern for space or expense or even accessibility challenges, this is the door for you!

ps… no dressing up required up for discovering. (Unless you’d like to!) Just a red thread if you have one handy and a cuppa and a bit of Hope. Even a teeny-tiny bit will do to begin!

I need help.

Three of my least favorite words to say!

Ironically, I started the New Year with them. (Which feels more than a bit counter-cultural!)

Luggage was the culprit!

Luggage left over (still) from our adventure with the kids. Most of it mine. All of it in my space. And all of it in the way.

Not to mention the laundry baskets not currently where they work best because of the luggage hogging the prime real estate.

And the still cranky back, hip, and knees, not enthused about the prospect of bending and lifting!

Phoebe and Luther were not interested.

The Legendary Husband, bless him, heard me.

I need help.

Oddly, having said those words, I feel a bit like Dr. King. You see, I have a dream.

A dream of helping Grandmothers – along with folks who think like them… Grand-elders, if you will… and even some very brave Grandfathers – to survive and thrive in this world, now, so they can help the littles they love the most to survive and thrive, as well.

And, as you may have guessed, that dream is even more vivid for me, having just spent some time doing exactly that, live and in person with my less-littles!

So, I’m embracing the bizarre notion that actually saying those three difficult words will get me closer to that dream. To my Big Why.

In fact, I wrote myself a permission slip to ask for help and put it into my mythical Medicine Basket as my first major act for 2022!

I’m not sure what will happen next.

Here’s what I do know…

Shaming and blaming myself into not asking for help is toxic!

Here’s what else I know…

My Intentional Creativity® Coach friend, Natalie Moyes – who definitely thinks like a grandmother – and I have some workshops starting in mid-February and we’re going to explore, with group members like you, what other things could helpfully be added to our Medicine Baskets in support of our own dreams.

Like many new things, this adventure might feel a bit scary. Change is like that. It’s also how we get to the new places we long for.

Like those places where more things are true than what we hear on the news!

We’ll be ready for sign-ups very soon. And space is limited.

If you relate… if you’d like to be on the first-to-know list, please email me! suesvoice@gmail.com

And, if you haven’t had a chance yet to check out the Intentional Grandmothers Archetype Quiz, just click HERE!

For tonight, a bowl of soup for me. Courage and many blessings for you and yours!

ps… as you’ve no doubt guessed, the painting is a recent, evolving image of my own Medicine Basket. Can’t wait to find out what yours will look like!

It’s the only thing!”

The last 10 days in my world have been a huge reminder of just that.

It started with a trip to the airport. A trip on which no book I owned volunteered to go. This is not a usual event in my world.

Then, in the airport bookstore, a volunteer found me.

There were shelves full of books that were decidedly not calling to me. Books whose titles did not even make me curious. One of which I bought in a moment of perceived need. Need for something to read on the plane.

Then, as I was making my way to the door, one of those books that just calls to you sometimes… even when it’s not your usual thing. Even when you have no idea why.

It was higher than I could reach. Sparkling, literally, on the shelf. A new novel by Alice Hoffman.

The Book of Magic…

I adored one of her earlier novels, The Dovekeepers. I’ve read it 5 or 6 times, most recently a couple of months ago, as we were beginning the Forest of Grandmothers journey.

Some of the rest of her books, not so much. (Though I’m beginning to suspect that may have had as much to do with me as a reader not yet ready as it did with Hoffman as a writer!)

Just between us, though, the whole magic thing felt quite a bit out of my go-to comfort genre’.

It was!

A complex family of women with generations of stories about magic. Or at least what they called magic. Knowing. Healing. Speaking. Writing. Things which women were not, according to the traditions many of us learned, supposed to do.

There were times when I felt like it was Harry Potter, et al, for grand-elders.

And, if we’re being honest, times when I remembered the crushed third grader who was only permitted to read book mobile books with orange tape on the spines because they were the ones for people like me.

And still, I read.

It wasn’t until page 249 that I began to know why! Here are some glimpses…

If it isn’t written down, it will likely be forgotten, Isabelle had told her. That was why women had been illiterate for so long; reading and writing gave power and power was what had been so often denied to women (249).

A woman with knowledge, one who could read and write, and who spoke her own mind had always been considered dangerous (251).

As Sally went forward she thought about the women before her who had fought to protect those they loved, those who had been erased from history, who never had a chance to tell their own stories (327).

And, all around me as I read, my girls were being and growing and learning.

The writer in me knows that we can never be certain that what we read is what a writer intended.

Here’s a hint, though, about what I intend for this moment, with all the Advocate Grammy energy empowering the Guide within me…

We learn so that we can help our littles speak, write, paint, dance, be… their stories. And be magic for a new world!

ps… the amazing sculpture in the photo was my Christmas gift from my not-quite-12-year-old grandperson, Taylor!

pps… for a glimpse of some of my art, hoping for forever homes, check out FierceArtWithHeart. The elves are still in a holiday mood and there are special goodies for those of you who’ve found your Intentional Grandmother Archetype. If you haven’t found it yet, CLICK HERE!