Nothing is the same, already!

And, yes… we’re talking Medicine Painting! Specifically, the journey known as Apothecary. The photo from my journal, above, should give you an idea of what this adventure feels like in the beginning.

It’s like all the parts of my brain dancing together at once. Early on, there was quite a bit of singing going on inside me. I thought John Denver was a bit odd in this mix until I heard:

Comin’ home… to a place we’ve never been before!

It had a lot to do with the metaphoric river under the river… the Rio Abajo Rio.

Now, before we go any further, I should let you know that I’d be a bit behind, if we believed in that. (And, no… you’re not surprised!)

Imagine, though, a very busy spider, of the Weaver Dreamer sort, with a whole lot of new web to weave. That’s what this journey feels like for me. You know how the spider puts her web back together after a big bug tears it or a storm blows it loose from the the corner of a window?

Now, imagine doing that for yourself, with paint. (And you don’t even have to hang upside down!) That’s what this is like for me.

One of the things I’m weaving back in is some of those old summer camp stories. Like my first-ever Red Thread circle. And the amazing notion that we all work together to make the world work.

Then there was the random impulse to anoint the back of my canvas with a bit of the cacao from my mug. Kind of a comfort thing in the midst of some deep noticing and wondering.

There’s a painted line for joy and pleasure coming up. First, though… Context!!! By which, of course, I mean news. Not just the national kind – which is huge enough – but also the inner kind. The really personal stuff.

But, first… the words of Shiloh Sophia McCloud.

And it works!!!

Somewhere along the line, while we were taking a studio break on Saturday afternoon, I was able to claim a thing that has changed for me. A thing which I didn’t consciously know was holding me back. A thing called grief. And I realized that the composting has happened and I am ready to go forward.

And I spoke my claimed perception shift. And made space for newness to begin.

The loss is still there, but there is now room for newness. And I’m off to make marks for that on my canvas!

It’s not much to look at so far. Here’s a peek…

Tears. Right there with the paint.

Tears of release and hope! Tears of strength for living into what I was born to do. If you squint, you might see the eye!

And, then, the line before the one for joy and pleasure, which is still to come.

This one is the line for unavoidable tragedy. Mine insisted upon appearing in one of my personal codes which has been with me since The Muse appeared in 2018. And it feels like a really good sign, now!

There’s a lot more painting to do. More learning. More claiming. More singing. More showing up.

Here’s a hint… I was born to do this!

For now… huge hugs. And the hope that you’re beginning to imagine what such a journey might look like in your world! This world needs all of us, now!

ps… I just saw another eye! Wonder what’s next…

4 comments on “Nothing is the same, already!”

    1. Oh, Holy Wow, Deborah! I had to look that one up and I do see Ganesh, too!!! And I really like the “remover of obstacles” part! Thank you for reading, seeing, and sharing!!! <3

  1. I am not sure what has been stopping me from painting. I think about taking out all my supplies and setting up but it does not happen. Maybe something changed? Some soul searching is ahead .

    1. Thank you, dear Jean, for reading and hearing. Holding the Red Thread with you as you and your soul wonder and wander. (Maybe fingerprint dots???)

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Sue Boardman, Certified Intentional Creativity®
Color of Woman Teacher & Coach