Five Things I Can Do To Improve Conscious Contact

"Once we accept that creativity is a spiritual act...we can consciously choose to invite divine participation." Julia Cameron

1. Concentrate on my breathing.

2. Meet the day before it begins and be still.

3. Watch the breeze.

4. Stop thinking.

5. Sit by water and read or listen to spiritually uplifting material.

CONFESSION

Oh the agony...the guilt...the pain

I haven't been doing my morning pages, taking my walks, or going out on artist dates for the past several weeks. Since I just the read the chapter "Uncovering a Sense of Truth", I felt this might be the opportune time to spill my guts. I think I need encouragement and a B12 shot.

Beginnings of a Poem

I am this rock eroded by harsh winds and trickling water

I am this hollow shell sheltering voices of the sea

the sea salt bathes my wounds

I am this tree rocking to and fro meditating purpose and bliss

I am this breeze perfect in every way reaching beyond the universe

I am not this flesh, blood, and bones

I am so much more than that...

All is not in vain, I have been in my studio, "on fire", creating some awesome jewelry pieces.

Some Believing Mirrors Work Overtime

The pillow my sister made for me one Christmas.

My sister is my strongest Believing Mirror. Let me try to explain one the reasons why that is the case:

My sister holds the key to all of my memories. I suffer from a kind of self imposed amnesia. Often, when we talk she’ll recollect an event and look across at my questioning face. She realizes I haven’t a clue. “June, don’t you remember, we got up very early that morning, and mommy let us go outside for the first time in our lives without even combing our hair?” “Oh, yeah,” I’d apologetically reply, “I’d forgotten that.”

At some point in my life, I decided I wasn’t worthy of such memories and henceforth arbitrarily dismissed personal moments as they spun past. So, my sister does it for me, until I am capable of doing it for myself, should that day ever come. There are countless blank time periods that lack detail and significance. My sister fills them in with faithful regularity and even composes touching moments that cause my heart to quiver and tears to swell. Fortunately for me, she is a natural story teller of clever wit and insightful commentary.

For a very long time I did not understand the reason why I could not fill in the empty spaces of my own existence. Well, that’s not completely true. I knew the precise moment my life was altered; I just did not consciously recognize it until recently. Nor did I realize its profundity and the absolute impact it would have on my time here on this earth. Please, do not think horrible thoughts. I was not molested, or abused as a child. It had nothing at all to do with mistreatment. It was just a bad mistake, an overheard conversation that was certainly meant to be private, but was nevertheless, overheard by nosey five year old ears.

Yes, my sister holds the key to all of my memories. What does she think of this job? For a long time, I don’t think she even realized she was employed, but thank goodness she is prompt, conscientious, and asks for no compensation, otherwise, the pages of my book would be utterly… blank.

The Loathsome Inner Critic

It has just recently been reported that my inner critic, "The Wretched Whisperer" (WW for short), has been in a terrible accident and has severely injured her throat chakra. It is my understanding that she will have to undergo extensive surgery. Unfortunately, she always recovers, just in time to wreak havoc in my life. Just as her name implies, she never, and mean never, speaks above a whisper. That behavior is downright insidious, annoying, sneaky, and low. Her soft sickening voice utters nasty sentiments such as, “You are so stupid…So…you think you have talent?...No one is going to appreciate that!” Who would think that whispering could be such a subversive act?

The WW is that fly on the wall that everybody wants to be, the lurking voyeur who peers into my most private moments, ready and willing to annihilate my best intentions. She thrives best in humid, sticky environments, vibrates at low frequency levels, and feeds on negativity. Absolutely nothing is sacred to her, with the exception of the god of pessimism. To him alone she does obeisance.

The WW loves to travel and will go anywhere at a moments notice, but it should be noted that she cannot journey to higher levels of consciousness, abhors zen like retreats and has never been able to find her way in or out of a mandala. She is not privy to my prayers, so to escape, I seek refuge in them. She frequently tries to interrupt the meditative process, but goes limp from lack of air.

The recent accident has lessoned her presence in my life. The injury to her throat has rendered her speechless; therefore, I will take this opportunity to rise above the whispers and persevere.

Divining Rod

She thinks it odd to live so close to a mountain where deer run free because instead of residing in a rustic habitat, she calls a modern condo with 9 foot ceilings and hardwood floors her home. The juxtaposition of her residence and surroundings makes her smile.

She loves the colors of her walls because they remind her of the turquoise blue ocean of St. Thomas. The coral red sofa she bought makes a bold statement against the sea of blue. It tickles her that the first thing people say when they walk into her home is, “Oh! I just love the color of your living room!”

There are a cache of meaningful objects that are scattered about the condo, funky patchwork pillows her sister made, white dishes she received one Christmas, blue and white porcelain collectibles and her ebony Indonesian hutch. The eclectic cottage look would probably define her style to a “t”.

She’s at an age she would like to forget. Every now and then she notices the ever so slight wrinkles forming on her face. Peering into a mirror, she takes the palms of her hands, places them on each side of her face and gently moves them in an upward direction to receive the free face lift. She then releases the upward pull and accepts the reality that passing time has on the human shell.

She lives with a sense of optimism that blankets some self doubt and insecurities. These ailments act as a low grade fever; consequently, they do not appear to be life threatening at this time.

The best thing is for the first time in her life she knows what she wants, a quiet place to be alive…to create… a Spanish style cottage in the hills of any city beginning with the name Santa. She sees herself walking barefoot across the cool red terra cotta tile floors, her white linen see through gown swishes as a breeze from an open window enters the house. She’s not certain what time of year it is, most likely autumn and the night sky is calling her, beckoning her to come outside and greet the sweet air and view the overwhelmingly beautiful evening performance. God is waiting there for her. He asks her if she likes her grass green kitchen cabinets and Mexican tile counter tops. She howls with laughter nodding in the affirmative. All she has to do is believe.

Inspiration

“In order to make art we must be willing to labor…willing to reach inside and draw forth what we find there. On an inner plane, we are all connected to a larger whole. This is what is meant by inspiration, this connection to something greater than ourselves.”

Julia Cameron, Finding Water

I say Amen. Here is my plight. Often (very often actually), my mind begins to ignite, ideas are flowing fast and furious, I barely have time to find a piece of paper to quickly sketch out my ideas before another one tumbles out of my head. I’m very excited, almost hyperventilating to the point of passing out, sometimes at this very instant, the axis of the universe shifts and my favorite jazz song will suddenly ooze out of the radio, a song that takes you to another place (chocolate may even be nearby with the promise of cold milk to accompany it), things are just so good…and that’s when it happens. I become paralyzed. I do not want to leave the coziness of my bedroom (where all of my favorite things live) and go to my studio (the room that took me 25 years to get) and bring my wonderful ideas to fruition. Is this a diagnosable condition? Perhaps IDD- Inspiration Deficit Disorder? What is the matter with me?

“We must be willing to labor.”

Yes. Once again I say, amen. We must labor. I must labor. I attack the stairwell, enter my terra cotta colored studio and close the door. I’m in baby! I sit at my table and peruse the hundreds of beads, tools, and silver before me. I rush back downstairs to collect my sketches (because I always forget something) and before long my hands are doing something. The labor begins, it is joyous and the best part is that in a moment unbeknownst to myself, I cross over into inspiration, the zone where God and I collaborate, and I must say that we make such beautiful music together.

This is a "liberated" (no pattern, just sew patches of material together to make a design) quilt I made many years ago. It has served as an inspiration for many things.

Finding Water- Remembering New Mexico

The author of Finding Water touched on the fact that at one time she lived in New Mexico. She missed the mountains, sage bushes and the smell of pinion. So do I. I have made several sojourns there and each time I was extremely sad to leave. There is just something mystical about the place. Once, when traveling away from Santa Fe and headed for the hills, I pulled over to the side of the road. My sister was with me. It was night. We stepped out of the car and peered upwards at the blackest night sky I had ever seen. The stars were close enough to touch. I was at one with the universe in that most sacred and quiet place. That is precisely why I must return.

Finding Water

I have just started on a new adventure. I have joined a group of women who are committed to completing the twelve week program outlined in the book, Finding Water. I still need to purchase the book, but I am familiar with morning pages from my short flirtation with the Artist Way program. So, this morning at approximately 5:30 am I began to write. It is so quiet. I am at peace. My thoughts flow easily onto the paper, simply the ramblings of my mind. Cheez, it's full of clutter! It wasn't until the third page of writings that I began to realize that I was writing about something more meaningful than random musings. Once I looked up at the clock it was 6:04. Where did the time go?

Happy Birthday to Me!

Today is my birthday (only 2 minutes left and it will be over) and I spent it chilling out at home. I organized a few beads, finished a necklace I was working on, ate cake and drank cold milk...yum!

An old art journal page entitled the three faces of Me.

Something to think about...

Whether we look in a telescope or a microscope, infinity is the end of it and we are but a spec in this utter vastness.

Flickr Slideshow of my Latest Pieces

You may now view my latest pieces via the Flickr Slideshow. It is located at the top of my blog, enjoy!

My Etsy Shop

One of my favorite pieces

Recently I designed a necklace that I was crazy over. I wore it for two days and on the second day someone bought it right off my body! I was definitely in a "design" zone when I came up with the idea for this piece. The large jasper pendant stone served as the inspiration for the rest of the colors and beads I used.Take a look.

Wild Child

I think I am obsessed with, or either possessed by, the jewelry design spirits. Every waking and sleeping moment visions of daring bead color combinations/designs emerge from my psyche. I want to take my work to another level. My next experiment will be working with enamel, but more about that in another post. You can find my latest designs in my Etsy shop at http://mandalajewels.etsy.com. I am a proud member of Eclectic Jewelry Artisans http://eeja.org Here is another necklace I designed, its name is Wild Child. Can you think of why?

New and lovely and wonderful and...NEW!

I have been very busy in my studio this past weekend. For quite awhile I have had a lovely Tibetan Prayer box charm and could not figure out what to do with it. I tried it out in several designs, only to take it apart and start again. This weekend I struck gold and was inspired to create this baby. I love the way it turned out and it looks beautiful on the wearer. It is available for purchase in my Etsy Shop @ www.mandalajewels.etsy.com.

New Mandala Woman

I just completed this painting several days ago. She is going to go on my new business cards for my jewelry shop.

I Made the Treasury Page!

Unless you own an Etsy shop that title probably means nothing to you. I have a wonderful little jewelry shop filled with one of a kind pieces at my Etsy Shop. Stop by and check it out. Every month they have a challenge. This month's challenge was to create something orange. My piece was one of twelve chosen to be on the Treasury page. If the Treasury page happens to become the front page of the entire site that means more traffic for my shop! Yes that is my intention for this week now lets wait for good things to happen. You can purchase all of the necklaces shown at my Etsy Shop . The necklace above and to the right is the winner! It features various semi precious chips, a sterling silver flower charm, pumpkin colored delica seed beads and a sterling silver clasp. Just lovely!

The necklace above and to the left is called Citrine Dream. It features a gorgeous citrine pendant, a bundle of lapis stones, and amber colored crystals, all joined to an oxidized sterling silver chain.

Collage Fun

Today was crazy. I am not the most tech savvy person, so trying to make my own labels/business cards/stickers for my shop can turn into a big mess! Then on top of that my ADD brain begins to go off on many other tangents, for instance, how to make a collage of my jewelry pictures. I just don’t get how to publish them, but let’s see if I can get it to work. If you see a photo collage underneath this post, or next to this post, or above this post…then you will know that I have been succesful!

I did it! This was accomplished with the Picasa 2 program (free download from Goggle). It's not fancy dancy; however, it's free, so there you go. For anyone with tech challenges this is the program for you. Photo Shop experts move on, please.

And I think I'm goin' out of my head...

'cause I can't believe the tears that I've shed...

Yes, the madness continues, but this time it is taking place in my studio! Oh, I have been quite the busy person, busting in and out of jewelry stores with no money, tossing and turning at night due to an onslaught of design inspirations, and joyously suffering from this wonderful anticipation that invades my soul. Suddenly I don't know what to do with myself, and I just love it! I am the opposite of blocked. Ever wonder where the creativity comes from and alternatively, what do you do if you become blocked? I have several good fixes that can conjure up the creative juices. Take a listen to The Creative Fire CD by Clarissa Pinkola Estes, Ph.D. I don't know how or why it works... it just does. Listen to it and let the magic happen.

Fire Heart Necklace on sale in my Etsy Shop

Second fix: The Artist Way by Julia Cameron- Most have heard of it, throngs have purchased it, countless others have even started the process, but how many have actually completed the program? Well, ok, I didn't finish it either, but I know it is good for the soul who wants to lead an inspired life. So try it. I want to hear from those who have completed the prgram and described how it impacted your life...or not.

Etsy = Maddness

Vintage Amazonite Necklace (for sale in my Etsy Shop)

Since I have just recently opened my shop at Etsy I've gone a little mad. I haven't sold a thing and I know that I need to be patient, but it is really hard. Each day I open my shop and I read "zero sold". As an old song said, (and I don't recall who sang it because my memory along with other things on and of my body are not quite in tact), "one is the loneliest number", but let me tell you, zero is far worst than that. My, what a run on sentence that was, but every word was necessary. Next post will be much more... pithy.

Here and Now

Here and Now

Here and now the ocean waves coincide with the thunder in my chest
Being here is like being home because this where I come from
The Sea
The Salt
The initial freshness sprouting along the coral reef
The Timelessness
The seam rips like a needle running parallel across a 45
The sound is deafening
I am lost, for I am no seamtress