The Artist's Way: Week Seven, Post Three

A lot of the exercises for Week Seven are what I’d call “self-care” exercises.


Here are a few examples to see what I mean:

1) create a wonderful smell in your home (through candles, cooking, etc.)

2) wear your favorite item of clothing for no special occasion

3) buy a pair of wonderful socks or gloves

It’s been nice to consciously make myself feel special!

But, there was one exercise that really hit me in the heart, and that’s what I want to talk about.

It’s called the Jealousy Map Exercise.

What you do is take a piece of paper and make three vertical columns. At the top of the first column you write “WHO”, the second “WHY”, and the third “ACTION ANTIDOTE”

Here’s an example that Julia gives:

WHO                             WHY                           ACTION ANTIDOTE

Anne Sexton                Famous Poet                   Publish my long-hoarded poems



So, I went ahead and made my list. And though I’ve been fairly transparent through this whole process (and have shared a few embarrassing/soul bearing things), I just can’t share my list.

It wasn’t very long; only five people on it. But, it was very exposing, and it made me realize how petty I can be and how afraid I live my life in some areas.

I have to say, the Artist’s Way has taught me more about myself than anything else I have ever done. EVER! Some things have been very painful and have shown me parts of myself that I wish I didn’t have.

But, you can’t change what you can’t accept about yourself, and you can’t accept what you can’t see.

So, you have to bring out all the nitty gritty and hold it up to the light!


This has been another week doing just that.



UP NEXT: Artist’s Date!

The Artist’s Way: Week Five, Post Three

Most of the exercises for this week I found fun, while being very insightful.


For example: “If I had either faith or money I would try… List five desires.”

Why don’t you try out this one and see what you come up with? Some of my responses surprised me!

(Like buy a Harley Davidson—Really, it’s on my list.)

Or, how about this one: “If I were twenty and had money… List five adventures.”

(Drive across the U. S.)

Or, “If I were sixty-five and had money … List five postponed pleasures.”

(Own a cabin in the mountains)

But, there were a couple of exercises that stopped me in my tracks, like:

“The reason I can’t really believe in a supportive God is … List five grievances. (God can take it.)”

(I’m not good enough for His support.)

Or “Ten ways I am mean to myself are …”

(I doubt I have any useful talents.)

Or “My payoff for staying blocked is …”

(You can’t fail what you don’t start.)

However, the exercise that I’ve been thinking the most about is the “Wish List.” Here, you are supposed to list 20 wishes as fast as you can.

I could only come up with 8 before I was scrapping the barrel of lameness. I couldn’t think of anything! I actually wrote “I wish I had a balloon to ride.” Really, Liz? Your own personal balloon riding equipment? Since when?

I didn’t know that my imagination was so dismal that I couldn’t make a list of 20 things I’d wish for. Sad.

Can you do any better than eight?

I hope so!



UP NEXT: My Artist’s Date (pictorial review style)!

The Artist’s Way: Week Five, Post Two

I used to think that I was a weirdo because I needed so much alone time. (I think my family thought I was a weirdo, too.)

Being in silence while puttering around is very relaxing to me. You will never find me cooking/painting/writing/reading/working/etc. with the TV on. I get noise assaulted very easily, and coming home to a house full of noise (even happy ones) makes my skin crawl.

I thought I was the only one who felt this way, and that it was a sign that I was anti-social (which I think I am to a certain extent—meeting new people is an AWKWARD experience for me). But, when I read this chapter, I realized that there are a bunch of us out there! Comrades!

“An artist must have downtime, time to do nothing… For an artist, withdrawal is necessary… An artist requires the upkeep of creative solitude. An artist requires the healing of time alone” (pgs. 96-97).

These sentences leaped off the page and hit me between the eyes. That’s me!

Creative solitude should be my middle name!

Now, this doesn’t give me the excuse to drop all my responsibilities, draw the blinds, and never speak to another soul. (I wouldn’t want to do that, anyway.) But, it does make me realize that I need solitude weekly, and to accept that about myself.

If I ignore this need, then I am ignoring who I am. (And that’s when I find myself miserable.)

Julia asks a question in this chapter that I’d like to pose to you: “Are you destructive of your true nature?”

Dismissing my need for creative solitude was a way I was destructive to my true nature. (And even when I had moments of solitude, I would be guilt-ridden and beat myself up about it. Not a fun way to live!)


So, can you think of any way you are destructive of your true nature?



UP NEXT: Week Five Exercises!



P. S. Here’s a creative exercise that wasn’t in the book, but that I’ve been playing with the last few days.

It’s a way to jump-start your creativity.

What you do is take your full name (I also included “miss” for some extra letters) and write each individual letter on a little square piece of paper (They should all be the same size.). Now, mix up all the letters, and spend 10 minutes coming up with as many words you can. (In 10 minutes, I came up with 76 words.) Then take the word(s) that interest(s) you and write about it (them).

I decided to use only the words I came up with to write a few poems. Here’s one of them:

I sit on

Sallow sill.

White air,

Still.

Between billow

Or boom,

I float

Within.

It’s a really fun way to break through a creative block. Give it a try!

The Artist’s Way: Week Four, Post Four

I’ve put off posting about this week’s exercises because I had an odd experience with one, and I wasn’t sure how to word it so that people didn’t think I was losing it.

But, I wasn’t able to come up with anything, so I just wrote about it as I experienced it…

First, here’s an exercise that I loved and had fun with.

Exercise One—Describe your ideal environment (and then find a picture that matches)

This exercise was only supposed to be a paragraph, but I went on for a page. It was fun to imagine where I’d like to live, from the landscape to the weather, from the size of the town/city to the type of house. All in all, it was very enjoyable. And it was also fascinating to type into Google a few key words from my description and see what popped up.

[If you want to see what my ideal is, click here.]


Now, on to the exercise that I'm still thinking about…



Exercise Two—Imagine your 80 year-old self and have her write you a letter

To begin this one, I did a visualization technique that I semi-developed by morphing a number of techniques I’ve read in a few books and heard on tele-seminars. It was to help me get to a place (mentally/emotionally/spiritually) where I would be open to receiving information from my future self. [Don’t worry. I haven’t gone off the deep end into woo-woo-ville. It’s just a way to still the mind and really listen.] I wanted this experience to be from my heart, to flow naturally as if from another source. I didn’t want to stop and think “Now, what would I tell myself?” or “What would my real grandma say to me?” And in order for this type of divine writing to occur, you have to be in the proper mind-set.*

Anyway, once I got to that peaceful place and walked (in my mind) to the door that would open into 80 year-old Liz’s life (who by the way, lives in a quaint little cottage by a stream), I sat with her and asked her what she wanted to tell me. She handed me a letter, and I was surprised by what it said. Truly surprised (and a little bugged, to be honest).

What I wanted her to tell me was what I should do with my life. What path should I take? Should I switch careers? Move? Buy a Winnebago and hit the road collecting stories as I trade my paintings for sandwiches? Should I focus on my art? My writing? My 401k plan? What should I do?!?!?

Now, in an effort to be fully transparent and to have this journey documented for myself, I’m going to post the letter in its entirety. I also want to add that it was written without stopping my hand, without pausing to think, and without agreeing with all that it said. It took about 5 minutes and was a sort of surreal experience.

Dear Liz,


I know you are wondering what path to take. You’re interested in so many things that it can be overwhelming. Don’t let it paralyze you! Remember, you are already on your path. Right now you have to decide to go left, right, or straight. But guess what? Either way, it’s your path and God will provide for you exactly what you need.


We all have a calling. And that is to help others as we make our way back to God. If we focus on service, no matter what road we take, it will lead to the right place—a better you. I’m not saying that what you “do” as a job doesn’t matter. I’m only saying that it matters less than we think.


Do what you love, what brings love into the world, what makes others strive to be better and in turn, help more people. If you do what you love, (even if that changes over the years), and listen to God, you will be happy no matter where you are. And you will be guided to where you need to go next.


Use your resources wisely. Use your time wisely. You will never regret a skill you learn or a talent you develop. But you will regret the time you wasted on hollow things. Be gentle and kind to yourself, and those around you. You have much to give, so look for opportunities. There are more around you then you think.


Lastly, remember you will have a rewarding life, a fulfilling life, if you use what God has given you to help those around you. And you will be happy.


Love,


80-year-old Liz

Think of it what you will. I'm still figuring out what it means to me.



UP NEXT: My Artist's Date of Happiness!!!




*If you’re interested in this visualization technique, shoot me an email and I’ll give it to you. It’s been very helpful to me in various ways.

The Artist’s Way: Week Three, Post Three

When I attempted to complete the exercises for this week, my lack of a memory really got in the way. I couldn’t even do the first three exercises.

Exercise One: Describe your childhood room.

Exercise Two: Describe five traits you like in yourself as a child.

Exercise Three: List five childhood accomplishments.


Would you like to know my answers to these exercises?

1) I know it was indoors, had four walls, one window, and a closet.

2) I liked five childhood traits that I can’t remember. I know “sharing” wasn’t one of them.

3) I learned to read, write, do basic math, recognize colors, and “share,” sort of.

That’s all I had.



Now, when I got to Exercise Four, I started to feel better about myself, because even though the topic, “rotten habits,” isn’t exactly fun to dwell on, at least I didn’t have a problem listing them.

You have to list three obvious rotten habits and three subtle rotten habits. And then you have to explain what the payoff is for you to do them. There’s ALWAYS a payoff or you wouldn’t do it. Period.

As an example, I’ll share two of mine.

Obvious: I watch TV shows that I don’t like.

This was actually one of Julia’s examples, and when I thought about it, I realized I totally do this. I’ll start watching a new show, and then after a few episodes, I’ll lose interest. But there’s some part of me that thinks I need to remain loyal, so I’ll keep watching (or keeping recording them and watch them pile up in the queue.) It’s such a burden to me. And when I was thinking about the payoff, I realized that I use it as an excuse to not do things when I get home from work: “I’d love to start that new draft, but I have 5 episodes of Single Lady and her Friends to watch.”

Subtle: I read other people’s blogs without setting any limits.

This one is sneaky because it starts out all innocent and friendly. I look at someone’s blog and in the post s/he links to another blog, so I visit that one, and then that post mentions another blog, so I click that link, and then that person… you get the idea. What started out as a plan to get a 15-minute dose of inspiration on an artist’s blog turns in to a 2 ½ hour trip around the blogosphere where I end up looking at a website of earmuffs for cats. (And I a) don’t have a cat, b) don’t live in an area where earmuffs are required even for humans, nor c) am I the kind of person who would put earmuffs on a cat if I owned one and lived in inclement weather.) But, there went my evening.

So, question for you: What are your obvious or subtle habits that are standing in your way? You might be surprised!



UP NEXT: Week Three Wrap Up and Artist’s Date … where I left with wings (both physically and symbolically)…

The Artist's Way: Week Two Wrap Up and Artist Date

I’m just going to jump right in to answering the three questions, though not in numerical order.

Question 3: Were there any other issues this week that you consider significant for your recovery?

           

This week I did notice that I attempted to put more creativity into my every day life. Even if it was a small thing, like choosing a pink pen, I found that creative choices came much more to the forefront of my mind. Also, I’ve been paying more attention to how I spend my time (much of it wasted) and trying to change that little by little.

Question 1: How many days this week did you do your morning pages? How was the experience for you? How did the morning pages work for you?

I did them 6 out of 7 days. My goal for this coming week is 100%! I’m actually finding them enjoyable. (Though my penmanship is atrocious since I try to write as fast as possible. I'm a busy person, after all.) I just make myself keep writing, even when I don’t know what I’ll write next. It’s kind of surprising to see what comes out of my head because I’m writing fast and without much thought. I go from what I’m worried about to what I hope to accomplish in the next year to what I’m having for lunch to how much I hate going to work to how I want to start a painting, yada yada yada. Thus far, after writing for a total of 12 days, 36 pages, I haven’t been out of something to write. Maybe that will change at week 10? We’ll see. But, I’ve liked venting and being honest with myself. It’s been illuminating.

Question 2: Did you do your artist date this week? What did you do? How did it feel?

I’ve decided to organize my artist dates into two categories: 1) things I go and see, and 2) things I stay and do. Since last week I went to a new museum, this week I chose to have an Artist Child Saturday. 

First, I got all the pesky adult errands out of the way. Then, I indulged in something that I actually remember (miracle!) doing as a child: watching re-runs of H. R. Pufnstuf (thank you, KCET for broadcasting!). Do you remember that show? By the time I watched it as a kid, it was already re-runs, and so to watch it again, some 30 years later, was fascinating. 

Everything was familiar and I remembered the introduction. It made me feel nostalgic and silly all at once. But, it touched a place I used to live as a child, where trees could talk and houses had smiles and magical flutes were my friends. For a half-hour, nothing seemed impossible. (And then I made the mistake of looking up the little kid in the show to see what happened to him and got bummed out. Don’t look! Child stardom is a curse.) 

After watching the show, I took some time to jot down any idea I had, no matter how dumb, in regards to the two short stories I’m attempting to write for competitions. And I have to be honest, some ideas were really lame. It’s not like after touching my childhood imagination the inspiration fairies paid me a visit and all I had was fabulous ideas. But, I did think of a few possible starts for one story and came up with a whole new idea for the other. 

So, that was my artist date. Exactly what Julia recommends: “artist dates are a necessary frivolity” (p. 59).

Now, as I mentioned in my last post, I had some exciting news of sorts. I’ve decided to create an Artist’s Way painting, something that will represent the journey that I’m taking. And I’ve decided to let you in on the process (even though it makes me kind of want to pass out).

What I decided I would do is post a picture at the end of each week so you can follow the many transformations/incarnations the piece will take. Some weeks it will look horrible, other weeks it might look okay, and other weeks it will not look like anything it had the week before. But, I felt it was important to document it, if only to show myself how far I’ve come.

So, I thought I’d start by showing you a picture of where I keep all my art supplies and then the first two shots of the painting. [As a side note, this is the largest painting I have ever worked on to date: 18 by 24 nerve racking inches!]

This was a cheap MDF cupboard I bought years ago, and last year I decided to make it pretty with a painting technique and inspiring words.

Here's the inside. You can see I painted it a rich blue and have my art supplies crammed in it. (And two more boxes in my closet.) And, yes, that's Shakespeare on the bottom shelf. It's my extra copy that I use for projects.

If you recall, last week I put gesso all over the canvas. Step One complete.

Step Two is to add the first layer of color. Will any of these be seen at the end of the process? Who knows!

The Artist’s Way: Week Two, Day Five

Today, I’d like to talk about 3 of the 10 creative exercises I did this week.

These three have really been eye-opening in regards to how I spend my time, and thus, how I spend my life.

Like I mentioned yesterday, we often feel that life is repetitive and we stop noticing all the bits of magic that fill our days. The same can be said for how we spend our discretionary time. And a number of the exercises this week made me realize that I squander it watching other people live.

But, no more!



As I alluded in the last post, I found out in Exercise Three that I am not an interesting person and am not very interested in other things, like, say, anything in the world. How did I come to this conclusion? Simple. I had to make a list of 20 things I enjoy doing. ANY 20 things, big or small, and I got to 7 and then was stumped. Seven! That’s all I could come up with! How boring am I?

Now, I forced myself to think of 20 (as examples to my desperation for interests: thinking and studying –sad), but I was shocked that I couldn’t easily think of things I enjoy doing.

Can you think of 20? Well, if you can, the next step in the exercise is to place a date by each, indicating the last time you participated in the activity. This was also a sad experience for me, because for some I couldn’t remember any time I ever did them (no memory of my life, you recall) and others, like “thinking” I do every day, so I wrote “every day” by it. Not exactly earth shattering information.

All in all, I realized I need to get more things that I enjoy doing. If you have any suggestions, let me know!

(By the way, Exercise Four then has you pick two from the list and do them this week. You should try it! I’m “thinking” right now!)

Please ignore my penmanship. And, yes, I practice juggling!

The other exercise that was instructive to my lopsided existence was number seven. In it, (as you can see by the picture), you draw a Life Pie, with the sections: Spirituality, Exercise, Play, Work, Friends, and Romance. You then place dots in the sections to indicate where you think you are. Towards the center is none, and towards the rim is tons. And then you connect the dots.

You see where I stand.

In no section did I feel like I was great, but one in particular (hint: Romance) was almost non-existent. (I gave myself some credit because I watched Persuasion last weekend.)

Julia comforts us by saying “it is not uncommon for your life pie to look like a tarantula. As recovery progresses, your tarantula may become a mandala” (p. 57).

So, that’s my goal for this process. I want my life pie to become a mandala!

And I want that for you too!



Lastly, I want to touch upon Exercise Ten. Here you list Ten Tiny Changes you’d like to make. For example, here are two of mine: I would like to do more things with my friends. I would like to clean out my car trunk.

Then Exercise Nine is to make one of the ten a goal for the week, and Exercise Ten is to do that item!

(And in case you’re wondering, for my goal, I chose a tiny change I didn’t mention so as to maintain an air of mystery for you readers…)

Hopefully you can see from these examples how powerful these exercises can be. I’m quite surprised, actually, on how much I’m learning about myself and what I really value, not what I say I value.

Our time is our life.

And The Artist’s Way is helping me shift how I spend my time to more productive and enriching activities.



UP NEXT: Week Two Wrap Up, my Artist’s Date, and an exciting announcement! (Well, sort of.)

The Artist's Way: Week One, Day Five

I completed most of the exercises listed for the week. But, I really struggled with some.


This was mostly due to the fact that I have a terrible memory and couldn’t remember anything prior to 2001. Was I even alive? (My mother assures me that I was.)

For example:

• In Exercise Three, you list three “enemies” in your past that destroyed your creative self-worth by saying something critical, or just plain jerk-y. Now, I can’t remember anyone ever talking to me about anything from ages 5 to 25, let alone commenting that my picture stunk. (My mother assures me that people talked to me.) So, I could only list myself as my own enemy. (Which has made me think of that P!nk song, and now I have it stuck in my head.)

• Exercise Four, you write down a horror story in regards to one of your “enemies” and I couldn’t remember a thing. (I'd ask my Mom, but who wants to remember a horror story they've already forgotten?)

• Even for Exercise Six, where you’re supposed to list three “champions” of your creative self and the compliments they gave you, I could only remember one teacher who said something nice about a poem I wrote during some year in High School. (Thank you, Mrs. Little! (Incidentally, Mrs. Little is one of only two teachers I can remember from High School. The other was my math teacher whom I T.A.’d for, Mr. Wilson? Johnson? Erikson? Well, I know it had a “son” in it. Or, was it that HE had a son? Hmm…))

Needless to say, any of the Time Travel exercises bummed me out because it made me feel like a weirdo for not being able to remember anything about my entire life.

Tangent: Is there something wrong with my brain? Is this a sign that I’ll be getting Alzheimer’s later in life? (Don’t tell me if it is.) Do I have a mental deficiency due to a lack of vitamins? Potassium, maybe? Am I blocking out some sort of horrible trauma that will eventually come forth, (probably while I’m at the grocery store (a trauma in and of itself to me)), and I’ll leave my cart in the aisle (rudely) and fancy myself the store “crier” announcing to one and all the sales price of canned beans as tears roll down my cheeks because the prices were cheaper last week, and then get hauled off to the loony bin after I’ve disrobed? These are the questions I’ve been obsessing over… (Not that I’ve given this much thought…)

Anyway, one exercise I DID like was Exercise Eight!

You list five imaginary lives you would live if you could. You’re to list them really fast, without much thought. Here’s my list: a painter, an English professor, a writer, an archeologist, and a philosopher (like Aristotle—I’d just roam around, talking to people about life, making them think about the BIG questions, and asking them if they could spot me a twenty for travel costs and new sandals. Eventually, I’d get a large enough following to set up shop (probably on a hill with a veranda), with my own school of thought (Elizabethilian Theory) and people would flock to me for my wisdom (not that I’ve given this much thought…)).

The next part of this exercise is to pick one of those lives and live it for the week in any way you can. I chose “a painter” (because I wasn’t sure my family would volunteer to stand around me while I pontificated on Elizabethilian Theory) and made myself paint (despite hyperventilation) on one of the canvases I’d been saving for something “good” or “profound” or “revolutionary.” After a brief dialogue with myself, (and then concern that I had already gone crazy and should be sent to a loony bin), I talked myself into to just painting it with white gesso. It doesn't even look like I did anything. But I know I did something.

Baby steps, people.



Question for today: What imaginary lives would you live, and how could you incorporate one into the upcoming week?



TOMORROW: Weekly check-in questions and I’ll tell you about my Artist Date!