The Artist’s Way: Week One Wrap Up

So, can we just pretend that my absence last week didn’t happen?

I had every intention of continuing with The Artist’s Way, and then I got a stomach bug.

‘Nuf said.

But, now, I’m back on track for week two!

However, before I can tell you what’s in store for this coming week, I first need to conclude week one.



Let me start by answering the three weekly check-in questions:

1). How many days this week did you do your morning pages? How was the experience for you?

I completed the morning pages 6 out of 7 days and I have to say, it was difficult. Mostly, because I’m not used to writing three pages by hand. You would not believe the cramping your hand experiences by the end of the second page. Most of the text on my third page consists of “My hand is cramping. Oh, man, my hand hurts! Why, why hand!?” etc.

Surprisingly, I haven’t run out of things to say. My thoughts are constant and I just write them down. Something that has developed from this exercise is that I’ve challenged myself to write one FULL page of affirmations. It’s tough to come up with a page of positive things to say about yourself, day after day. Try it! It’s eye-opening.

2). Did you do your artist date this week? What did you do? How did it feel?

For my first artist date, I decided to do something cheap (as in free) and I visited a local museum that I have driven by my entire life, but never stopped in. Despite my reservations about feeling dumb and friendless, I LOVED IT! I had no time schedule to bother with, no other person to worry about, and no expectations to meet. I was able to stand in front of one exhibit as long as I wanted, and then skip another in its entirety. And it was fun. Really. FUN! I spent about an hour walking around the little museum, learned about my former city (Ontario), and was impressed by old-timey things.

It made me realize that you don’t need to travel far, or even travel at all, to be inspired. I took a lot of pictures (see below for a sampling) and came away completely recharged. When asked by the docent why I was there, I answered “I’m on an artist date with myself.” She thought that was fabulous! And so did I!

3). Were there any other issues this week that you consider significant for your recovery? Describe them.

The only issue I had this week was with my lack of memory. It really bothers me, and it makes me feel like I don’t know myself. It’s a tad unsettling, really. I’m not quite sure what to do about it. Maybe the more I try to consistently remember, the more I will? Who knows.

Now, on to some pictures from my Artist’s Date:

Here’s the Ontario Museum’s Entrance. Proof that I actually went!

Here’s a picture of the old-timey stuff I mentioned. This is the inside of Ford’s Diner which used to be on the corner of Euclid and Holt.

Here are some symbols from the local Native American tribe that I found intriguing.

Did you know that on the outskirts of Victorville there used to be a magical land called Hulaville, a sort of hand-made Disneyland? Road trip, anyone?

Tomorrow: What’s week two all about?

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!

The Artist's Way: Week One, Day Four

We’ve all heard of, and maybe even used, affirmations. (I know I have.)

And it’s always been interesting to me how false saying “I am a wonderful person!” feels, but how easily I believe “I am a horrible person.”

I don’t know why we have a harder time believing the positive about ourselves, and yet, believing the negative is like second nature.

Maybe it’s a natural man thing?

Or we think it’s prideful to be positive about ourselves?

That it lacks humility?

That it means we’re cocky jerks?

I don’t know.

Julia says “Affirmations help achieve a sense of safety and hope” (p. 34). And she has a list of 20 that can be incorporated when talking to ourselves (and we’re always talking to ourselves).

Some that really resonate with me, (I think because I resist them), are:

• I am a channel for God’s creativity, and my work comes to good.

• My creativity heals myself and others.

• I am allowed to nurture my artist.

• I am willing to create.

• I am willing to be of service through my creativity.

• I am willing to use my creative talents.

(pgs. 36-37)

Bathroom Inspiration. Does that sound gross?



In truth, I’ve been pondering all the affirmations she offered, and have even listed some of my own while writing my Morning Pages. And I’ve tried to come up with ways to remind me of them. (As you can see by the picture, I’ve written a little message to myself on the bathroom mirror. It says “I deserve a rewarding creative life!”)

I think we believe the negative because it stops us from trying, and thereby, gives us the illusion of safety (since we take no risks).



But, negativity is not safety, it’s destructive (and depressing). And nothing can flourish from that kind of place.

So, how do we combat this? What I did was take the list of core negatives from yesterday, and reframed each one as a positive.

For example:

I’m not talented enough = I am filled with talent!

It’s only worthwhile if I can make a living from it = It’s worthwhile because it gives me joy!

I only have one or two good ideas = Creative ideas always find me!

You get the point.

And then I just keep repeating them whenever a negative pops up (like last night, when I took out a paint brush, a canvas, and some gesso). The affirmations may not resonate with my mind (yet), but I know they do with my spirit.

So for now, that’s what I want to leave you with. Challenge your negative core beliefs and replace them with positive affirmations.

It makes a world of difference. In fact, it makes a different, more creative world!



Tomorrow: I’m going to discuss some of the exercises I’ve completed this week. Some were fun, some were upsetting.

The Artist's Way: Week One, Day Three

What are your core negative beliefs about being an artist/creative person?

It’s good to identify them because they’re what hold us back from taking the leap into living a creative life.

“Negative beliefs are exactly that: beliefs, not facts” (p. 31).

We don’t have to believe them. It’s a choice!

Here are just some of my core negative beliefs. (This is very personal, but I feel important enough for me to deal with publicly.) See if you share any of them.

I can’t consider myself an artist or writer because:

• I’m not talented enough.

• It’s only worthwhile if I can make a living from it.

• I only have one or two good ideas.

• I’ll always be poor if I try to be an artist.

• Artists are moody, depressing people and I don’t want to live that way.

• I’ll disappoint my parents if I follow my dreams.

• It’s not practical to be an artist.

• People will consider me a failure.

• I’m too old to change careers.

• I need to think about my retirement.

• Nothing I ever create will be good enough to sell or publish.

I could go on and on…

While making this list, I started to feel a little nauseous, and realized that Julia is right, “What you are is scared. Core negatives keep you scared” (p. 32).

I’m taking my beliefs as fact, and letting them limit my life. That’s just crazy!

Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m not suggesting that I should throw caution to the wind, quit my day job, buy a Winnebago, and start peddling my wares across the country (though part of me desires that). But, I don’t need to let them stop me from picking up a paintbrush or writing a short story.

There can be balance. But, not if we become immobilized by fear.

One way she suggests we break our negative beliefs is by identifying them and then countering them with an affirmative.

I’ve worked with affirmations before, but never in regards to my thoughts on my creative abilities.

I’ll talk more about this tomorrow.

For now, I’ll leave you with the same question I started this post with:

What are your core negative beliefs about being an artist/creative person?

Make a list, and we’ll talk about changing them in the next post.

The Artist's Way: Week One, Day Two

For most of my life, I was a shadow artist.

What’s a “shadow artist” you ask?

According to Julia, shadow artists are people “caught between the dream of action and the fear of failure” (p. 25). These are people who believe that OTHER people can be artists/ writers/ crafters/ musicians/ etc., because they have real talent.

Shadow artists often hang out with artists, work with/for artists, or follow/support artists. They always feel like they’re just on the edge of great creativity, but can never fully step into it.

This was me.

In fact, in some ways, it’s still me.

To this very day, I carry around all the little insults and hurts and rejections and failures from my past that feel like leeches draining me of present creativity.

Maybe you’ve experienced something similar?

One way to move from being a shadow artist to an artist artist is realizing that you are still that little child who was told to stop day-dreaming, or to focus on a career that can earn you money, or to forget about being a musician because you can’t make a living that way, or just let your writing be a hobby!

Our little artist child needs protection, and safety in order to flourish. We give her that by not criticizing everything we do. It’s so easy to be hard on ourselves, to believe what we’ve been told in the past. But, that’s just one version of reality, not the one we have to believe.


I was reminded to this over the weekend.


On Saturday, I went with Rachel to the Sawdust Art Festival in Laguna Beach. And as we were winding our way through the many booths, I was struck by the varying levels of skill, and would point to one booth and say “Rachel! I can do that! It’s slightly above elementary level!” and then I would look at another booth and say “Way beyond my capability.” But, time and again, there was a booth that displayed art that I could do. In fact, I saw art that was very similar to what I’ve painted!

What I took from that fabulous day was that I am already good enough! People, of my same skill level had booths! They considered themselves artists even though their paintings were simple or child-like or of cats!

And you know what that means? I can consider myself an artist. Right now! All I have to do is change my mind.

And the same goes for you!

Rachel and I left realizing that we already have it. We’re enough! We are artists! We just need to let go of expectations and fear. We need to let ourselves be free, and part of that freedom comes through play.

“What?”

Yes, play.

Your artist child needs to be allowed to have fun and play with sparkles. Or allowed to dump out all the fabric she’d like and just look at the colors. Or to listen to music as loud as she wants while pretending to play the drums.

We, (the adult us), need to remember to play. And that’s hard to do sometimes between all the practical (and necessary) stuff we need to do as functional adults.

That’s why Julia has you go on Artist’s Dates. It gives you a reason to play!

I hope you’re thinking of something you can do for an artist date. It can be as simple as taking an hour to flip through magazines and cut out pictures/ideas that inspire you.

Remember, a writer is someone who writes. A painter is someone who paints. A musician is some who plays an instrument. A photographer is someone who takes pictures. There is no other label necessary. Not good. Not bad. Not gifted. Not talented.

Stop being a shadow artist and realize that you already have it in you!

Here’s a question I want to leave you with:

1) How can you be more kind to your inner artist this week?

The Artist’s Way: Week One, Day One

So, I’d like to say that I woke up this morning filled with the excitement of unborn creative energy, ready to take a leap into the ether of the Creator, and have a morning unlike any other filled with magical fairies of inspiration.

But, that didn’t happen.

Instead, I woke up with a migraine hangover. And after hitting snooze four times, I fumbled for my Morning Pages notebook/pen/glasses and wrote: I hate mornings.

Now, yes, I made myself continue to write, but it wasn’t as I had hoped. (Not that I was really expecting fairies.)

But, I will say that I’m optimistic about the week because, despite my rough morning, I already feel creatively productive. And that’s a great feeling!

This week the focus is on “Recovering a Sense of Safety.”

I know for myself, many times I’ve said I’m not creative, but what I really meant was, “I’m not safe to create. I’ve been judged in the past. I’ve been told I’m not good enough. I don’t want to take that risk again. I’m afraid of what others will think. I don't want to be ridiculed or be made a fool of.”

It's all about fear.

There’s a quote by Picasso that says “Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once he grows up.” How true is that!

I know I’ve watched my nephews pick up crayons and create their masterpieces. They beam with self-assurance, knowing that I’m going to praise their work and hang it on the fridge. They don’t see anything wrong with purple hair and orange skin, or a lopsided circle, or an animal that is unrecognizable. It breaks my heart to know that slowly the world is going to tell them that they’re not good enough, and slowly they’ll come to believe it.

This week’s exercises all focus on re-establishing safety. It’s going to be an interesting experience because about half of them require remembering the past, and if you know me, you know I don’t remember much of my childhood or teenage years (or early 20’s, for that matter). So, it will be a challenge.

But, I’m up for it!

Now, a question for you: Do you have any creative plans for the week?

Think of something right now and schedule it in, with pen!*


TOMORROW: How my adverture this past weekend supported my inner artist and gave my confidence a good kick in the pants!



*This is reminding me of when I signed the contract in the book yesterday. I seriously contemplated signing it in pencil, in case I fail, so I can erase it and pretend I never tried. Silly me.

For my Grandma...

So, for Christmas I decided to make my Grandma a collage as a “thank you” for intrusting me with tons of our old family pictures.

In fact, I used one of those pictures in her collage as the focal point. It’s of my ancestor, Mary Rosell. The picture was taken at her high school graduation, and she died a year later of TB.

I stared at her face a lot while making this. I imagined that at that moment she had all these plans of leaving her small Utah town and seeing the world. She had dreams of getting married and starting a family. She had her whole life before her and she was filled with the possibilities.

And then, Tuberculosis came to visit and took her away. She was born, lived, and died about a century before me. And yet I feel like I know her from working on this piece.

That’s really why I like using my ancestors in my art. It connects them to me and me to them. And I feel like I’m doing my part as their descendent: Remembering (which is the title of my Grandma’s collage).

Through my work, they still live on in this world, even while they are in the next. And that’s my way of honoring them.

So, if you’ve requested a picture (and I’m working on three right now), know that one of my ancestors will soon grace your walls…

P. S. And a picture of my Grandma is also included in the top left corner.