Greetings from the Cape!
I’m lying in bed right now in a hundred year old house, overlooking Horseshoe Bay and the larger Pleasant Bay on the shores of Cape Cod, Ma. The sun is just barely creeping into my room, and I am listening to the rain pouring down outside my window, and the thunder grumbling in the distance. Tide is on the way out. It’s been up all night, and I could hear it rolling in and out, like listening to your lover breathing in bed beside you. Every once in a while, a gentle breeze will reach her hand through the open window to toy with my hair and spread it across the pillows. Kody is curled up beside me, snoozing, happy as a clam.
WE got here last night just in time to enjoy the first of our family dinners at this reunion… Let me explain an Outwater reunion for those of you not familiar with my humungous family…
My grandparents on my dad’s side had six kids, who all married, went off and had kids of their own, who are just now beginning to marry. We live all over the place, and our reunions happen once every two years, always in the same place at the same time. It’s been that way as long as I can remember.
So, there’s about thirty Outwater descendants who fly in, and pack into one giant house for a week every other summer.:-d It’s quite the event.
WE always stay in the same house. It’s a big, rambling Cape Cod style house built in 1906 by a doctor and his wife. It sits on a peninsula, surrounded by a backwater bay on three sides, bordered by a marsh on the fourth side. The house has ten bedrooms, some big, and others just large enough for a bed, dresser and chair.
It’s one of those houses where one footstep echoes through the whole house, thumping on the hardwood floors. We have all generations covered at these reunions, from ages five, to eighty-six, and everyting in between. Some of us grandkids are out of college, and some are just starting kindergarten. So, some of us are up at 6 AM, and some sleep in until noon (which makes life very confusing and funny.) Stuff thirty Outwaters, a Guide dog, all kinds of interests and personalities and a whole lot of love into one house, and the resulting cacophony never ceases! I love it.
A beautiful porch wraps around three sides of the house. We spend most of the day outside, on the rocky beach watching birds and fish, or relaxing on the porch chatting and reading.
The dining room has a table big enough to seat all of us. The uproar at our nightly dinner has to be heard to be believed, but grace at our table, with all of us holding hands, passing a kiss, and toasting each other is truly magical.
Every room has windows thrown wide to the sea breeze, and the smell of salt and old weathered wood is thick in the air.
I don’t know which I love more. Being in this house, a place I love so dearly, or being around all my family at one time. Or perhaps it’s the enchantment of the combination that makes this my favorite place in the world.
There’s an old out of tune baby grand piano in the living room. I can sit there for hours, and even through the out of tune keys, I can pick out melodies that bring out the best side of my songwriting. There’s something about this place that sends my art catapaulting to a whole new level every time I come here. Is it any wonder that “art” can be found in heart??? :-d The two are inextricably linked, I’ve learned. Where my heart feels cared for and full, my art will flourish.
Now it’s late afternoon, and I’m sitting in the dining room with the sun on my back, and the sound of an awsprey hunting cry drifting through the open window. We went for a beautiful sail, and I just spent a day lounging and relaxing, reading, catching up with family, enjoying the beautiful weather. Tomorrow, I’ll probably swim the narrows with my uncle, or go for a long walk through the woods with Kody.
Tonight, I’m looking forward to a huge lobster feast. My sister and cousins are in the kitchen making a hot pink lobster to go on my grandmother’s birthday cake. Kids are down at the beach digging clams, taking turns learning to sail with my uncle, or seeing how much sand they can track into the house. Dad’s grilling corn… Grandma is herding grandkids, and yet more grandkids are running upstairs, chasing each other. no matter where you go, there’s something fun to be found, and someone fun to do it with.
Love from Heaven on earth,
-Sassy
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Saturday, July 11, 2009
What is the Secret of artistic Success?
I heard a very inspiring talk at a church event this week, and I wanted to pass it on to you.
There was an old man, a wise man. Perhaps the wisest man in the world. He was seen by the entire world as sitting at the pinnacle of success in every aspect of his life.
A young man decided to go to the old wise man and ask what the secret to success was. Wouldn’t we all like to know that one?
“What is the secret to success?” he asked.
The old man smiled and said: “hatif tiwohut srwok seidad.”
“What?” said the younger man. “I don’t know that language.”
“Yes, you do,” the old man replied. “I’ll tell you a story, then you must go off for a year and think about it. AT the end of the year, come back and tell me what you’ve learned.
“There are two young men I know of,” the old man recited. “Both want to be doctors. One has read every book ever written about medicine, watched every film ever made, and talked to every doctor he could find. The other studied hard, and in every way he could, prepared himself for his training as a doctor thrugh learning and public service.
“Now go an ponder,” the old man said.
The next year, the young man returned, discouraged, to sit at the feet of the old wise man. “I can’t figure it out,” he sighed.
“Tell me what you’ve learned so far,” the old man said in a kind and patient voice.
“Prepare yourself in all things?”
The old man shook his head and smiled. “That is important,” he replied, “but it is not quite the secret of success. I’ll tell you another story,” he said. “Come back in a year and again, tell me what you have discovered.
“Two children were with their mothers, shopping for the holidays, when they saw a homeless family huddled in the cold under a bridge, beneath ragged blankets, with no food, and a tiny fire for warmth and light. Both children asked their parents what the family was doing sitting out in the cold.
“The mothers explained sadly that the family had no home to live in. They had no money to buy food, and no holiday gifts to look forward to.
“The first child went home, and sat before the Christmas tree in his living room. He looked at all the presents with his name on them stacked beneath that tree. He thought about what it must feel like to be a boy with no presents on Christmas, and he grew very sad. He ate his Christmas dinner, and thought about how awful it would be to have no food to eat.
“The second child finished shopping with her mother. When they got home, she went immediately to the kitchen, and began gathering things. She went to her parents and asked them to collect all the Yule gifts they had for her. With their help, she made a big pot of good wholesome stew, a loaf of dark bread, and a lovely pie. They gathered fresh fruit and nuts from their garden, and brought the food and the gifts back to the bridge, to the hungry family shivering in the cold. They covered the family in warm clothes, fed them, and sat with them sharing stories and smiles late into the night.
“Now go and ponder” the old man told the young man.
Another year passed and the young man returned. “Act with kindness and charity? Give?” he told the old man when asked what he’d learned.
“That is a key to the secret of success,” the old man said. “You come closer. But I must tell you another story.”
He told another story, and another and another, year after year. Ten years elapsed, and the young man returned for his yearly visit frustrated and still unsuccessful at figuring out the secret of success. Every year, the old man said he had found a key, or come closer, but the young man never quite found what he sought.
The old man always smiled, told a story, then said “Go and ponder.”
Then one year, the old man said something new. He asked the young man, “all the lessons you’ve learned from my stories, son, have you put them into motion in your own life?”
The young man thought long and hard before answering. “Some of them,” he said truthfully. “Not all. I could do better.”
“Then go this year, and put all the lessons into practice. Do that which you have learned. Go, and ponder.”
A year later, the young man arrived with a glowing countenance and a springing step. “I know the secret of success!” he proclaimed joyfully.
“Tell me,” said the old man.
“Faith without works is dead,” the young man said.
The old man just nodded silently and smiled. “Yes.”
Books and stories say things just happen to you. Synchronicity is wonderful, and it is very real, but don’t you think if things are lining up in your life along every step that it might just mean God is helping you out because you are helping yourself? God sent you here, he didn’t come himself. No doubt he could have accomplished with a look what it took you a lifetime to do, but he sent you. That means that no one else in all the generations of time can do what you are able to do in this moment. He Chose You!
if we depend on serendipity to propel us through all the big things in our lives, we become like a ship floating on the ocean, just waiting for the wind to catch the sail, rather than turning to find the wind. We have no captain at the helm directing our path, ensuring we get safely to the right port of call. You could pull a Christopher Collumbus, which isn’t a bad thing, but it wasn’t what you set out to accomplish.
It’s not enough to just dream. You must act upon your dreams, do that which can bring your goals closer to your physical hands. To live with unrealized dreams is to cheat yourself, and kill the wings of your soul and spirit.
Faith without works is dead.
We had fun figuring out the anagrams, but you could have heard a pin drop in that room when we finally got it.
It’s so easy to go through life day by day, going to work, taking care of friends and family, meeting obligations, doing life. We come up with these great ideas, and shove them in that mental closet, promising ourselves we’ll get to it someday. Last summer, I realized I might not get a someday. It’s something I’ve known all my life—people die—but facing neurosurgery kind of laid it out in black and white before me and there was nothing I could do but walk up to it and accept it. So don’t have faith that someday will happen, make your someday happen.
It’s so easy to feel selfish if we steal time for ourselves to put toward our own dreams. It’s selfish to hole up in your cave on a Friday night and write the novel you hope will get you your first publishing contract, rather than going out with your girlfriends to help get your best friend over that guy she just broke up with. But the publisher you want is now accepting manuscripts in your genre, and if you really work hard, you know you can get it in to them. But the more you put toward the art, it feels like the less you give to your friends and family.
Guess what? If they are real friends, they’ll see your dedication for what it truly is, and they’ll believe in you and your vision. They’ll be ringing your doorbell bringing you dinner so you don’t have to get up from the desk and go cook when you’re so deep in writing the climax you can’t get out. And if they’re REALLY good friends, they’ll add your favorite candy or treat to their care package, because they know you need the boost. A good friend doesn’t mind picking up the slack in your life when art calls. And yes, it’s okay for you to ask them for help! That’s why we have friends, to share, to help, to love and to rejoice with when you do finally get that publishing contract. You’re friend will feel accomplished to for having helped you, so don’t deprive them or yourself of that victory.
Before you say I’m nuts, and life doesn’t work that way, know that I’m speaking from experience. Surround yourself with friends who believe in your artwork. Sometimes other artists are best, and sometimes not, everybody is different.
And before you say it, yes, good friends are hard to find.
I’m lucky enough to have a few who have stuck by me through life, art, and all of the accompanying challenges. There are those who decided that I wasn’t worth waiting around for every time I got to a point where I had to put my art and service before my friendships. But we’re each called to something different in life, called to do different things on this earth. The truest friend will understand that, and know that I’d drop everything in a heartbeat if they need me, and vice versa. A true friend understands my phases of frenzied creation, and I don’t have to worry about giving myself completely to the art. Those true friends will be there waiting when I get back.
I love my friends and family very much, and my dedication to my callings in life never diminishes that love. It just means I have a fine line to balnce on between devoting myself to what I came to earth to do, and devoting myself to helping those I love. When the two things come into conflict, it’s very hard on me, but I know that the true friends, the ones who love me and understand me, will still be there when the storm of creation blows over.
Being an artist is not selfish. Giving time and sacrificing to create is not selfish, it is answering the call of that dream, that vision that God planted in your soul. Being an artist is not the hedonistic, starvation-ridden, fruitless lifestyle the world makes it out to be. You can be an artist and be responsible. You can be an artist and be “normal.” You are an artist, and you are still subject to the laws of humanity. :-d It is the law of nature that a healthy baby bird will spread its wings and try to fly. If it does not, it will eventually die of starvation or as prey to a predator. A healthy human baby will learn to crawl, then get to its feet and practice walking, then running, dancing, leaping. Artists have the same urge within them to exercise their talents of creation. If we do not practice creation and strengthen our fledgling wings or spread our full-grown wings regularly, they will atrophy and become crippled and unable to bear weight. Those wings are your ticket to freedom and success, so have faith that God gave the to you because you are supposed to use them. It is not enough for the hawk just to know he has wings. He must unfhurl them and fly to hunt and eat. If he does not, he dies. Feed your spirit. Have faith that God knew what he was doing in giving you this all-consuming urge to create.
I pray you have people inyour life who understand your calling to create, and who support you in that. I pray that this aspect of art is not a struggle for you, and that you can accomplish that high-wire balancing act with grace, agility and joy.
Namaste,
-Sassy
PS. Thanks go to cam Walker for the secret of success story and the anagrams. I paraphrased, and I hope I didn’t kill it. :-d Thanks, Bishop Walker!
There was an old man, a wise man. Perhaps the wisest man in the world. He was seen by the entire world as sitting at the pinnacle of success in every aspect of his life.
A young man decided to go to the old wise man and ask what the secret to success was. Wouldn’t we all like to know that one?
“What is the secret to success?” he asked.
The old man smiled and said: “hatif tiwohut srwok seidad.”
“What?” said the younger man. “I don’t know that language.”
“Yes, you do,” the old man replied. “I’ll tell you a story, then you must go off for a year and think about it. AT the end of the year, come back and tell me what you’ve learned.
“There are two young men I know of,” the old man recited. “Both want to be doctors. One has read every book ever written about medicine, watched every film ever made, and talked to every doctor he could find. The other studied hard, and in every way he could, prepared himself for his training as a doctor thrugh learning and public service.
“Now go an ponder,” the old man said.
The next year, the young man returned, discouraged, to sit at the feet of the old wise man. “I can’t figure it out,” he sighed.
“Tell me what you’ve learned so far,” the old man said in a kind and patient voice.
“Prepare yourself in all things?”
The old man shook his head and smiled. “That is important,” he replied, “but it is not quite the secret of success. I’ll tell you another story,” he said. “Come back in a year and again, tell me what you have discovered.
“Two children were with their mothers, shopping for the holidays, when they saw a homeless family huddled in the cold under a bridge, beneath ragged blankets, with no food, and a tiny fire for warmth and light. Both children asked their parents what the family was doing sitting out in the cold.
“The mothers explained sadly that the family had no home to live in. They had no money to buy food, and no holiday gifts to look forward to.
“The first child went home, and sat before the Christmas tree in his living room. He looked at all the presents with his name on them stacked beneath that tree. He thought about what it must feel like to be a boy with no presents on Christmas, and he grew very sad. He ate his Christmas dinner, and thought about how awful it would be to have no food to eat.
“The second child finished shopping with her mother. When they got home, she went immediately to the kitchen, and began gathering things. She went to her parents and asked them to collect all the Yule gifts they had for her. With their help, she made a big pot of good wholesome stew, a loaf of dark bread, and a lovely pie. They gathered fresh fruit and nuts from their garden, and brought the food and the gifts back to the bridge, to the hungry family shivering in the cold. They covered the family in warm clothes, fed them, and sat with them sharing stories and smiles late into the night.
“Now go and ponder” the old man told the young man.
Another year passed and the young man returned. “Act with kindness and charity? Give?” he told the old man when asked what he’d learned.
“That is a key to the secret of success,” the old man said. “You come closer. But I must tell you another story.”
He told another story, and another and another, year after year. Ten years elapsed, and the young man returned for his yearly visit frustrated and still unsuccessful at figuring out the secret of success. Every year, the old man said he had found a key, or come closer, but the young man never quite found what he sought.
The old man always smiled, told a story, then said “Go and ponder.”
Then one year, the old man said something new. He asked the young man, “all the lessons you’ve learned from my stories, son, have you put them into motion in your own life?”
The young man thought long and hard before answering. “Some of them,” he said truthfully. “Not all. I could do better.”
“Then go this year, and put all the lessons into practice. Do that which you have learned. Go, and ponder.”
A year later, the young man arrived with a glowing countenance and a springing step. “I know the secret of success!” he proclaimed joyfully.
“Tell me,” said the old man.
“Faith without works is dead,” the young man said.
The old man just nodded silently and smiled. “Yes.”
Books and stories say things just happen to you. Synchronicity is wonderful, and it is very real, but don’t you think if things are lining up in your life along every step that it might just mean God is helping you out because you are helping yourself? God sent you here, he didn’t come himself. No doubt he could have accomplished with a look what it took you a lifetime to do, but he sent you. That means that no one else in all the generations of time can do what you are able to do in this moment. He Chose You!
if we depend on serendipity to propel us through all the big things in our lives, we become like a ship floating on the ocean, just waiting for the wind to catch the sail, rather than turning to find the wind. We have no captain at the helm directing our path, ensuring we get safely to the right port of call. You could pull a Christopher Collumbus, which isn’t a bad thing, but it wasn’t what you set out to accomplish.
It’s not enough to just dream. You must act upon your dreams, do that which can bring your goals closer to your physical hands. To live with unrealized dreams is to cheat yourself, and kill the wings of your soul and spirit.
Faith without works is dead.
We had fun figuring out the anagrams, but you could have heard a pin drop in that room when we finally got it.
It’s so easy to go through life day by day, going to work, taking care of friends and family, meeting obligations, doing life. We come up with these great ideas, and shove them in that mental closet, promising ourselves we’ll get to it someday. Last summer, I realized I might not get a someday. It’s something I’ve known all my life—people die—but facing neurosurgery kind of laid it out in black and white before me and there was nothing I could do but walk up to it and accept it. So don’t have faith that someday will happen, make your someday happen.
It’s so easy to feel selfish if we steal time for ourselves to put toward our own dreams. It’s selfish to hole up in your cave on a Friday night and write the novel you hope will get you your first publishing contract, rather than going out with your girlfriends to help get your best friend over that guy she just broke up with. But the publisher you want is now accepting manuscripts in your genre, and if you really work hard, you know you can get it in to them. But the more you put toward the art, it feels like the less you give to your friends and family.
Guess what? If they are real friends, they’ll see your dedication for what it truly is, and they’ll believe in you and your vision. They’ll be ringing your doorbell bringing you dinner so you don’t have to get up from the desk and go cook when you’re so deep in writing the climax you can’t get out. And if they’re REALLY good friends, they’ll add your favorite candy or treat to their care package, because they know you need the boost. A good friend doesn’t mind picking up the slack in your life when art calls. And yes, it’s okay for you to ask them for help! That’s why we have friends, to share, to help, to love and to rejoice with when you do finally get that publishing contract. You’re friend will feel accomplished to for having helped you, so don’t deprive them or yourself of that victory.
Before you say I’m nuts, and life doesn’t work that way, know that I’m speaking from experience. Surround yourself with friends who believe in your artwork. Sometimes other artists are best, and sometimes not, everybody is different.
And before you say it, yes, good friends are hard to find.
I’m lucky enough to have a few who have stuck by me through life, art, and all of the accompanying challenges. There are those who decided that I wasn’t worth waiting around for every time I got to a point where I had to put my art and service before my friendships. But we’re each called to something different in life, called to do different things on this earth. The truest friend will understand that, and know that I’d drop everything in a heartbeat if they need me, and vice versa. A true friend understands my phases of frenzied creation, and I don’t have to worry about giving myself completely to the art. Those true friends will be there waiting when I get back.
I love my friends and family very much, and my dedication to my callings in life never diminishes that love. It just means I have a fine line to balnce on between devoting myself to what I came to earth to do, and devoting myself to helping those I love. When the two things come into conflict, it’s very hard on me, but I know that the true friends, the ones who love me and understand me, will still be there when the storm of creation blows over.
Being an artist is not selfish. Giving time and sacrificing to create is not selfish, it is answering the call of that dream, that vision that God planted in your soul. Being an artist is not the hedonistic, starvation-ridden, fruitless lifestyle the world makes it out to be. You can be an artist and be responsible. You can be an artist and be “normal.” You are an artist, and you are still subject to the laws of humanity. :-d It is the law of nature that a healthy baby bird will spread its wings and try to fly. If it does not, it will eventually die of starvation or as prey to a predator. A healthy human baby will learn to crawl, then get to its feet and practice walking, then running, dancing, leaping. Artists have the same urge within them to exercise their talents of creation. If we do not practice creation and strengthen our fledgling wings or spread our full-grown wings regularly, they will atrophy and become crippled and unable to bear weight. Those wings are your ticket to freedom and success, so have faith that God gave the to you because you are supposed to use them. It is not enough for the hawk just to know he has wings. He must unfhurl them and fly to hunt and eat. If he does not, he dies. Feed your spirit. Have faith that God knew what he was doing in giving you this all-consuming urge to create.
I pray you have people inyour life who understand your calling to create, and who support you in that. I pray that this aspect of art is not a struggle for you, and that you can accomplish that high-wire balancing act with grace, agility and joy.
Namaste,
-Sassy
PS. Thanks go to cam Walker for the secret of success story and the anagrams. I paraphrased, and I hope I didn’t kill it. :-d Thanks, Bishop Walker!
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Learning = Inspiration: Mental Fireworks make good art
Hello, world,
Sorry for the long silence. I spent one week dealing with work issues, and last week not feeling well. To say the least, it’s been a crazy couple of weeks, and I’m glad to be back.
Sumer has officially arrived in Los Angleles, with the heat beating off the pavement, blazing hot car interiors, and afternoons spent in the pool. With the summer heat comes wonderful things like fresh fruit salads, sun dresses, beach buming, and friends coming to visit. And of course, let’s not forget, the all-important vacation! (mine starts in two weeks and I can’t wait!)
I got asked a very interesting question the other day that I thought would make a great topic for a blog post.
“Sassy, so why do you keep going to school and studying? Wouldn’t you get more done just working in the industry, sweetheart?”
Actually, I think the opposite is true, for me, at least. As a musician, I’ll never know it all. As a healer and yogini, to stop learning would effectively blocade my progress in my practice for myself and my patients. And as a person, I love change, and get bored with the status quo really quickly. I’m a gypsy at heart, and need to always be moving on, seeing what’s new, exploring and pushing my limits. It’s part of having butterfly as your spirit animal. :-d
Yep, it’s summer, and I am a student again. I’m taking a crystal therapy corse right now. I’ve already done my certification work, but felt like I could use training from a new perspective. Plus, things in my life have evolved, and additional education will greatly enhance how I function as a healer. It’s also nice to meet classmates--see who else is out there doing what I do, and how their techniques vary from my own.
I may be a yoga teacher, but I still have teachers of my own, and attend yoga classes on a regular basis. I teach, but I must also learn.
A degree doesn’t mean much in my field of commercial music, but I still want to go for my masters and doctorate soon, just to learn as much as I can about the subject I love. Learning, for me, equals knowledge. Knowledge equals growth, understanding, and an open doorway to advancement and new concepts.
We as artists never stop learning. Taking a color class, receiving updated training on technology, studying martial arts, reading, watching a documentary; in whatever way you can, fill your life with learning.
Time to re-visit that mental neighborhood I keep referring to. Bring a construction crew with you this time--neurons make great builders when given good building materials.
Have you ever noticed how downtown in your city may look kind of run down and crime-infested? Then city counsel approves an initiative to spend money on revitalizing the area. Suddenly, new buildings pop up; colorful streetlights replace the darkened broken ones. New trendy cafes push out the sleezy bars; apartments for high rent explode around the district; art galleries appear; and a few high-end shops open their doors. Slowly, a new crowd begins to trickle in. The bums, hookers and whinos who used to haunt these streets find other places to go. A few loyal troublemakers still hang around, but overall, the seediness of the area becomes artistic, rather than overtly dangerous. Somehow, the shabby shic appeals, rather than repulses.
Our brains work in exactly the same way. Without attention to detail, and a little time and yes, money, invested In our brilliance, we fizzle out. Before we know it, we’re a a few years out of school, and life got boring and monotonous. When you stagnate mentally, you kill off your artistic impulse. It feels easier to just do your daily routine, and not break it to allow inspiration in, or artwork out.
How in the world can you expect to create new, fresh, marketable art if you don’t feed your starving brain new ideas?
As artists, we can never know it all. There’s always a new fingering exercise I can practice, or a new color being released by your paint supplier. There’s a new computer program that makes graphic design a breeze, or maybe learning a foreign language allows you to incorporate new concepts and words into your lyrics. Even taking a yoga class and seeing the tall blonde in the mirror behind you can give you an idea for that character in that novel that’s been sitting dormant in your desk drawer. Go shopping and see what’s new this season. What’s in, and what’s out? Is it time to finally break out that leopard-print jacket and shoe design you’ve been hiding and start sending it to boutiques?
As you embark on your summer adventures, let yourself learn. You’ll be surprised at how easily learning opportunities just insert themselves into your path when you make room for them. It feels almost like they’re hunting you down, waiting just on the edges for you to give them the go ahead to manifest. Find opportunities to fill your mind with new things, and consider new ideas. The family that moved in across the street doesn’t speak English or decorate the house for the 4th of July, but maybe you can trade a backyard bbq with them in exchange for a lesson in foreign art or culture or language. Have patience for new concepts and people; they’re the artist’s best inspiration sometimes.
We tend to write, play, paint, and dance what we kno, what we’re familiar with. In your art this sumer, step outside the normal comfort zones you’ve drawn for yourself. I challenge you to break the boundaries, and learn to broaden your horizons and your expectations for your artwork.
And happy 4th of July! I remember seeing the fireworks as a kid, and this holiday is always a wash of memories and dreams for me. I love it!
When you see the fireworks explode across the sky in honor of our freedom tonight, close your eyes for a moment, and envision your artwork, your dreams, exploding up there for the world to see. Fireworks aren’t just pretty lights; they symbolize the pinnacle of our achievements. Put yourself up there across that sky in color, and feel what it will be like when you light up the world. Give yourself a match, and light the fuse.
Be safe, and have a wonderful weekend!
-Sarah
Sorry for the long silence. I spent one week dealing with work issues, and last week not feeling well. To say the least, it’s been a crazy couple of weeks, and I’m glad to be back.
Sumer has officially arrived in Los Angleles, with the heat beating off the pavement, blazing hot car interiors, and afternoons spent in the pool. With the summer heat comes wonderful things like fresh fruit salads, sun dresses, beach buming, and friends coming to visit. And of course, let’s not forget, the all-important vacation! (mine starts in two weeks and I can’t wait!)
I got asked a very interesting question the other day that I thought would make a great topic for a blog post.
“Sassy, so why do you keep going to school and studying? Wouldn’t you get more done just working in the industry, sweetheart?”
Actually, I think the opposite is true, for me, at least. As a musician, I’ll never know it all. As a healer and yogini, to stop learning would effectively blocade my progress in my practice for myself and my patients. And as a person, I love change, and get bored with the status quo really quickly. I’m a gypsy at heart, and need to always be moving on, seeing what’s new, exploring and pushing my limits. It’s part of having butterfly as your spirit animal. :-d
Yep, it’s summer, and I am a student again. I’m taking a crystal therapy corse right now. I’ve already done my certification work, but felt like I could use training from a new perspective. Plus, things in my life have evolved, and additional education will greatly enhance how I function as a healer. It’s also nice to meet classmates--see who else is out there doing what I do, and how their techniques vary from my own.
I may be a yoga teacher, but I still have teachers of my own, and attend yoga classes on a regular basis. I teach, but I must also learn.
A degree doesn’t mean much in my field of commercial music, but I still want to go for my masters and doctorate soon, just to learn as much as I can about the subject I love. Learning, for me, equals knowledge. Knowledge equals growth, understanding, and an open doorway to advancement and new concepts.
We as artists never stop learning. Taking a color class, receiving updated training on technology, studying martial arts, reading, watching a documentary; in whatever way you can, fill your life with learning.
Time to re-visit that mental neighborhood I keep referring to. Bring a construction crew with you this time--neurons make great builders when given good building materials.
Have you ever noticed how downtown in your city may look kind of run down and crime-infested? Then city counsel approves an initiative to spend money on revitalizing the area. Suddenly, new buildings pop up; colorful streetlights replace the darkened broken ones. New trendy cafes push out the sleezy bars; apartments for high rent explode around the district; art galleries appear; and a few high-end shops open their doors. Slowly, a new crowd begins to trickle in. The bums, hookers and whinos who used to haunt these streets find other places to go. A few loyal troublemakers still hang around, but overall, the seediness of the area becomes artistic, rather than overtly dangerous. Somehow, the shabby shic appeals, rather than repulses.
Our brains work in exactly the same way. Without attention to detail, and a little time and yes, money, invested In our brilliance, we fizzle out. Before we know it, we’re a a few years out of school, and life got boring and monotonous. When you stagnate mentally, you kill off your artistic impulse. It feels easier to just do your daily routine, and not break it to allow inspiration in, or artwork out.
How in the world can you expect to create new, fresh, marketable art if you don’t feed your starving brain new ideas?
As artists, we can never know it all. There’s always a new fingering exercise I can practice, or a new color being released by your paint supplier. There’s a new computer program that makes graphic design a breeze, or maybe learning a foreign language allows you to incorporate new concepts and words into your lyrics. Even taking a yoga class and seeing the tall blonde in the mirror behind you can give you an idea for that character in that novel that’s been sitting dormant in your desk drawer. Go shopping and see what’s new this season. What’s in, and what’s out? Is it time to finally break out that leopard-print jacket and shoe design you’ve been hiding and start sending it to boutiques?
As you embark on your summer adventures, let yourself learn. You’ll be surprised at how easily learning opportunities just insert themselves into your path when you make room for them. It feels almost like they’re hunting you down, waiting just on the edges for you to give them the go ahead to manifest. Find opportunities to fill your mind with new things, and consider new ideas. The family that moved in across the street doesn’t speak English or decorate the house for the 4th of July, but maybe you can trade a backyard bbq with them in exchange for a lesson in foreign art or culture or language. Have patience for new concepts and people; they’re the artist’s best inspiration sometimes.
We tend to write, play, paint, and dance what we kno, what we’re familiar with. In your art this sumer, step outside the normal comfort zones you’ve drawn for yourself. I challenge you to break the boundaries, and learn to broaden your horizons and your expectations for your artwork.
And happy 4th of July! I remember seeing the fireworks as a kid, and this holiday is always a wash of memories and dreams for me. I love it!
When you see the fireworks explode across the sky in honor of our freedom tonight, close your eyes for a moment, and envision your artwork, your dreams, exploding up there for the world to see. Fireworks aren’t just pretty lights; they symbolize the pinnacle of our achievements. Put yourself up there across that sky in color, and feel what it will be like when you light up the world. Give yourself a match, and light the fuse.
Be safe, and have a wonderful weekend!
-Sarah
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