Category: Art Journey

Recently I received some wise advice from some awesome new friends working very hard to help artists of various sorts go “full-time” with their art by which I’m pretty sure they mean no more waiting tables unless you really love it.

The advice in question, as I understood it, had to do with the notion of establishing routines in life to make generous space and support for art. Not new advice, but well shared from folks who are walking the talk.

Somehow, though, my life just doesn’t seem to work that way.

I have, in a “normal” week, Monday-Wednesday-Friday days and Tuesday-Thursday days and then, of course, there are the weekends.

I have an extroverted Legendary Husband who lives in a random universe with a totally different time zone than mine, which is predictable only in that it is not. When he’s not traveling for business, he works mostly in the basement, wandering through the kitchen and studio now and then, wondering what I’m up to. He has not yet mastered the fine art of tip-toeing. He also loves me and fetches big canvases when called upon!

I work one on one with painting clients in my home studio, write, and hold workshops for Intentional Creativity students.

Bill and I are adoptive parents to three Newfoundland rescue dogs. That’s pushing 360# of dog, one of whom is blind and came from a severely traumatic background.

They’re great! They love their jobs as studio angels and the girls do a great job as security sisters for Luther.

They also need to go in and out the door, go for walks, and eat, you know, regularly. Grooming, while time-consuming, is an excellent aerobic workout. One of them, who shall remain nameless, enjoys barking at the traffic early in the morning and late at night which I tend to discourage by being very quiet.

Then there was the recent water in the basement episode which messed up more days worth of even perceived routine than you want to know about.

Oh, and then there are my generally manageable but sometimes challenging pain and mobility issues, and  a whole bunch of new learning things going on. And, maybe, more even than that.

It’s all good. (Well, almost.) But “routine”. Not so much.

So what do I do with this meant-to-be-helpful question?

Well, I made a nice cup of tea and reminded myself that it was just remotely possible that  I’m not doing it wrong. I’m just creating.

And then I started doodling. What looked rather like EKG tracings at first turned out to be a string of W’s. Eventually four of them. After a bit, I had a new list of essentials with no illusions that they’ll happen the same way every day. And, miraculously, a sense that I can live with them!

Water… Walking… Work (read that Art)… and Words.

I am a storyteller. A teacher. One who often doesn’t sleep for the stories rolling through my nighttime brain.

With my granddaughters, friends, clients, readers, collard greens in the front yard, and the soup in my bowl, it’s all stories. Even the images are stories, most of them in context.

The dogs are kind enough to listen, too, though I think they prefer paint music. And treats.

Here’s what I know for sure. Fighting my truly blessed life to make it routine isn’t going to work. The four W’s, on the other hand, feel hopeful. Helpful.

I am, indeed, grateful for the question. I’ll keep you posted!

Today, in the Christian tradition, is Ash Wednesday, which begins the season of Lent. Historically, in many branches of the church, it has been seen as a time for penitence and deprivation. Of “giving things up.”

At the risk of being a radical, I prefer to think of Lent as a season of reflection and intentional gratitude. Of adding in, as it were, practices that help us focus on the gift of life.

I am observing this day in two ways. First, with inspiration from my dear paint sister, Ally Markotich and with the help of one of my long-term friends, we wrote out lists of things that were holding us back from experiencing our faith. Then, carefully, we tore up our lists and, with flames, offered them up for healing.

When the ashes had cooled (!) we added them to a bit of our paint and continued our art journeys of healing and growth.

All of this on a gorgeous, sunny day in Atlanta, filled with blessings. My paintings are coming along. The most recent batch of bone broth was excellent, and the studio angels (AKA Newfie Rescue herd) have been in a particularly helpful mood this week. So, here are a few more things I feel grateful for that you can enjoy with me or, depending on where you live, be inspired to go treasure hunting on your own.

My friends at Learning Strategies and Spring Forest Qigong are holding a week-long online fest of healing, beginning March 11th, that is totally free to you and appropriate for beginners. I’ve been studying Qigong, especially as it relates to healing, for several years now and it has become one of the go-to tools in my personal medicine basket. You may have read, just recently, about my froggy Qigong friends!

Here’s the link for the healing fest. Just click and sign up! https://www.learningstrategies.com/springforesthealingfest/event?aff=4620

Then, a book. A fantastic, mind-boggling book recommended by another of my wise paint sisters. Ann Lamott says: “Brilliant, meditative, and full of surprises, wisdom, and wonder.” When Women Were Birds… Fifty-Four Variations on Voice is filter shaking, magnificent and just the thing for Lent!

In the art department, I’ve discovered India inks! Flowy, gorgeous, transparent colors that add lots more choices to my paintings. And the ability to make tiny little lines. The first batch showed up yesterday. I’ve already figured out how to solve a background problem I was having with my current painting in the Heart of Gold series! The second batch just appeared, courtesy of the UPS guy who doesn’t ring the doorbell.

And another art celebration… one of my paint buddies is a pre-teen neighbor termed, by the powers that be, neuro-atypical. He’s an extremely bright young man with more than a few confidence challenges. And he wants to be an artist.

Yesterday, he finished his first painting. I showed him how to glaze the edges of his canvas and then explained that it was time to sign his work. He is, to say the least, sensitive about his handwriting, so I told him he could choose the front of his painting, any of the edges, or the back. And I offered him the choice of a marker or paint and a brush.

As I imagined he would, he chose the back. And then he chose paint and a brush which, in my opinion, is more of a challenge.

There it is. First and last names, along with the 2019. And, as my budding artist pointed out, “You can read it!”  This was a very big win!

And now for a bit of bodily sustenance… which, depending on how you feel about Lent, you might want to skip on Fridays.

My friends at Atlanta’s Pine Street Market have opened their second location, in partnership with Riverview Farms’ Full-Circle Farming! These folks are doing fabulous food that’s good for the planet! Check it out at www.chopshopatl.com  Be sure to tell Rusty and Tommy that Sue sent you!

It’s also spring sale time for my friends at Zingerman’s in Ann Arbor, Michigan. They have everything from breads, meats, and cheeses, to pantry staples at great discounts through the end of March. My kids sent a gift certificate for my birthday. I decided a bit of a party was in order. If you do these sorts of things, I’d strongly suggest the aged, raw milk Essex Manchego cheese with a dark chocolate covered fig. Blessedly the figs come individually wrapped! Energy enough to paint some more and a good dose of gratitude.

Blessings!

Here’s a blast from the past… a Facebook memory from three years ago when I had just finished a project called the 30 day WriteYourselfAlive challenge. (Though history would suggest many things are just beginning.) This has been the third time through for me. As in the past, I wrote consistently, at least for me. I followed some of the prompts. I also chased some rabbits. And I listened to the voices of virtual friends who were essentially actual strangers. Except they weren’t.

I noticed something new this time. So many people struggling with the feeling of being “not enough.” It seems like mostly women but that’s a loose theory at best.

Where did we learn that?

Seriously, where did we learn to believe that we are not enough?

Was it family? Or teachers? Churches? TV? History?

More importantly, how do we un-believe it? And how do we help our little ones not to fall into the same trap?

If you’ve been reading my stuff for a while, you might have noticed that I’ve spent a lot of time in school. Somewhere along the line I met the theory that there are two primary motivations for all human behavior. One is fear. The other is love, passion, enthusiasm, or some variation on that theme. (Which pretty much works if you allow for the notion that anger is secondary to fear.)

I wonder if we made more choices out of our love, our passion, our enthusiasm, we might be less prone to not- enough- believing. (Let’s be clear….this is just me pondering.)

It feels true, somehow.

Not enough is a fear thing.

Let’s don’t do that so much! Let’s do love and passion and enthusiasm instead!!! Enthusiasm, by the way, is Greek for filled with g/God, which is pretty cool in whatever way you understand it.

I suspect I’ve been pondering all this for more than 30 days. And, I’m probably not done, hanging, as I do, with a system or two that, historically, might rather I feel not enough.

Today, though, I got out my invisible ink pen and wrote(!) on the inside of my left hand, where I can check it as often as I need to: love, passion, enthusiasm! My invisible ink pen writes in purple, for transformation. You can have one, too. I have lots!

As my Qigong guru would say, “Believe it; it works. Don’t believe it; it works!”

Here’s a link to one of my current endeavors to act out of love, passion, and enthusiasm. To be more enough…

https://fineartamerica.com/artists/sue+boardman

Scroll down a bit and send me a comment on some of yours! Together we encourage each other, and our kids!

It seems to be the question for my day.

How are you?

Bill. The server at lunch. The guy behind the counter at our favorite local butcher shop. Friends on the phone and online. My sister.

(I’m guessing this sounds familiar to you, too!)

And the honest answer is, I don’t know.

I’m tired, after a long and rather stressful week.

I’m thrilled to have received a check in the mail for my first Intentional Creativity partnership workshop.

I’m grateful for having had much of yesterday to paint what moved me in the moment. Including big, free circles in both directions.

I’m sad and frustrated and utterly blown away by the news.

I’m blessed with food in my belly and in my freezer.

I’m deeply, deeply sad for the friend who lost a beloved dog.

I’m glad that Sarah is feeling well enough to go chasing some varmint around the back yard in the dark and pissed that, given her tendency to stubbornness, I had to go get her.

I’m hopeful and anxious about new things beginning in my world.

I’m sad that my kids feel far away.

And I’m blown away by a crazy new idea I’m just about going to have to make happen if I can talk the relevant folks into agreeing.

Well, you get the drift…

I learned one time in school that some famous therapist type said we could only feel one thing at a time.

I beg to differ.

Instead, I suspect that life is much more complicated than that and the assumption that we feel this way OR that adds, somehow, to the angst of paying attention.

(I also suspect that being tired complicates all the rest!)

So, what do we do?

Well, there’s soup on the menu for lunch tomorrow. Bird broth and lots of veg and a bit of local smoked chicken sausage.

A sprinkle of stardust certainly wouldn’t hurt!

A few things to cross off the list. The kind that just up the stress when they feel avoided.

And time for creating.

Quite possibly a nap.

Frittata for supper. Yummy and complete with leftovers. And maybe time to hatch up a plan for Valentine’s Day.

It won’t solve all the problems in the world. Or even for the people I love. And so I will add, along with my rather more traditional Presbyterian sorts of prayers, my personal version of the metta, or Prayer for Loving-Kindness:

May I, and all beings, be safe, healthy, happy, free from pain, and at ease. May we be filled with loving-kindness and at peace. 

It’s probably going to take a while longer. And it is, if we’re being honest, rather a lot to live in to. And yet, for me at least, it shifts a bit of my focus from how I feel — which may have a lot to do with weather fronts and weird dreams — and reminds me of what I intend.

That seems like a pretty good place to start.

You’re welcome to join me. I think we’re going to need all the folks we can get!