Wednesday, May 29, 2013

Perfect Vision

Photo:  Eye Test, by John LeMasney, Creative Commons

My darling husband is in a bit of a funk. This is hard for me, because he is generally a positive person and he is always working toward something. He is having some moments of self-doubt, not sure of what direction he wants to pursue, frustrated because the hooks he is putting into the water are luring no big fish.
“I’m thinking we need to do a vision board,” I said to him this weekend. “You need to be able to really envision what you want. It can be very simple, but I think you need something to look at every day in your workspace so you can see clearly what you’re working toward. Even if it’s something as simple as what you want your home office to look like, where you’d store your cameras and video equipment – just something positive to move toward and look forward to.” 

Many years ago I was introduced to the concept of a vision board (sort of the Pinterest of its time) through The Artist’s Way. Vision boards are boards you create to graphically illustrate your hopes and dreams – what you want to see in your life. The process is designed to help you create a clear, very detailed picture in your mind of what you want for all aspects of your life.

When I made mine, I was close to 30 years old, single, trying to figure out what I wanted to be when I grew up. Oh, and my 18-year-old cat had died. I was doing a lot of soul searching and I realized I was lonely and kind of directionless. I found some lovely recycled deep purple paper, took a stack of magazines and a glue stick, and went to town. My vision board included a handsome black man, an adorable brown-skinned baby, a cat, a dog, a writing table, lots of pictures of nature, a cup of tea, and a beautiful woman with a gorgeous smile who to me just screamed “happiness” and “fulfillment.” I hung the board on the closet door in my bedroom.

Within a year I met the handsome black man who would become my husband, and 18 months after that had my firstborn adorable brown-skinned baby. I have no idea where that vision board is today (we have moved approximately 700 times in the intervening years), but Sweet Dub still teases me about it to this day. As a toddler, Viva looked eerily similar to the vision of the baby I had. He jokes that I dreamed her into existence.

I believe our success in life is in direct proportion to our clarity of purpose. After thinking about it, Sweet Dub agreed that perhaps visioning would help him focus. He has been trying all different kinds of things in an effort to create some income streams, which is admirable, but it translates into his energy going in a million different directions – some of which occasionally result in him getting paid, which let’s face it, no complaints about that.

We have decided we will each create a board and hang them in our bedroom where we will see them every day. It may sound kind of nuts, but I’ve already seen it work once. I’m interested to see what his will look like, where there are areas of overlap or surprises, if he wants a pet unicorn, etc. Have you ever done anything like this? What would yours look like?

Monday, May 20, 2013

Mud Mud MUD

I wish this picture were me. But it is! But it isn’t. I am not four years old and squishing in the mud at preschool, glopping clunky Tonka trucks on their way to heaven knows what business. I am 44 years old, and I am receiving texted photos of my baby at preschool while tippity tapping away at my office keyboard, sipping Sweet Leaf mint & honey green tea, and trying to ignore email messages. I am wearing black pumps, not mud socks, but at the same time, this is me. On some level I am four years old and I just want to get in the mud pit and get my hands dirty.

Friday, May 03, 2013

Letting It Loose

Photo:  Creation of an Abstract Mural, Glass, by LaurMG, Creative Commons

I just wrote four paragraphs about creating art, and about how I put my creativity on hold when I was in college and never let it back out of its cage after that and how it has fought me ever since, and I read back over those four paragraphs and I hated them even more than I hate run-on sentences. So I used my conveniently placed “delete” key and now you don’t have to suffer through them.

What I want to say is this:  I feel an art project coming on this weekend. And I’m also feeling a very strong push to go back to school for some kind of artsy endeavor. I miss making things. And I want to explore how to coax that part of myself out to stretch and sniff the air.

How is that going to happen? I have no idea but I feel I am being called to do it, so I better figure it out. 

I’m thinking I may start with Bliss Habits, which is rolling out “Summer Camp for your Inner Child.” What the heck, what do I have to lose?