Done = Art

I am hiding. Hiding from ideas. Hiding from writing. You might see me posting daily paintings and that might look like I'm doing something and not being afraid. But I am still just as afraid as I was yesterday. But when I decide to do something, I do it. If I say that I'm going to post a painting a day, I'll post a painting a day, even if I hate the painting. I should probably have a blog month too, where I have to post every day even if it's terrible.

Everything feels terrible. That's not even the slightest bit true. I actually love life so much right now. It is cold and rainy. Positivity weather for me. I love it! I have a new job. It's an adjustment to my life but I love that too. Everything is pretty fantastic so why did I say it feels terrible?

Because no matter how much I am loving life I still think that my writing and painting is no good. Which is just ridiculous. Because guess what, I am painting and I wasn't before. That is good. I am writing. I wasn't before. That is good. My paintings today are not Monet or van Gogh. But they are mine and they are better than they were a year ago. And they are better than nothing.

The paintings are mine and I take great joy and pride in my paintings. Let me tell you something, I love paint! I love the way it feels when I get it on my hands. I love watching something fluid go smoothly on and how it layers and dries.

But I hide from all of these joys because I am not yet da Vinci. It is scary to share mediocre work and pretend that it is good. But I have to remember that it is not pretending. Of course it's not master work. But it is work. And I love it. I care a lot that other people like it too, but I am trying to not value my paintings on the amount of likes they get. I am allowed to love a painting that got 3 likes even if another got 53. I am allowed to love my work and that is not vanity.

People talk about artists gifts. They call certain artists "gifted."

But I have another secret for you, it is true that some things come more naturally to some than to others, but sometimes to call what someone does "a gift" negates the hours of work they put in to get to that level. The artists true gift is the gift of perseverance. Not giving up even when they feel blocked and uninspired.

And that is the gift that I am struggling with. I may not be a gifted writer or a gifted painter, but the Lord gave me perseverance and dedication. I can be pretty bad at motivating myself, but if I set myself a task I will do it. Which is why I often set myself small tasks, because they are attainable. I can't set myself a task that I might not be able to achieve, not because I'm a perfectionist but because I have to believe it is doable. Setting a goal of a painting a day is achievable because I can put a splat of paint on a canvas and call it done. Done = Art.

But if I set myself the goal of becoming something, or achieving some level of skill then I don't know that I can do that and I will stop before I begin. Art is attainable. Writing is attainable. It doesn't have to be good; it has to be done.

"I will take care of the quantity; He will take care of the quality." - Julia Cameron

Tasting the Air

There are few things more thrilling than a thunderstorm at the beach! It was so lovely to wake up this morning in one of my favorite places on earth. It was gray and a little humid this morning, but cooler than yesterday. And now I sit inside looking out at the windows at the pouring rain. It's beautiful!

I love thunderstorms, but being here makes it even better. That's beach life for you! Dishes are fun at home (well, I think so) but much better at the shore. Cooking is fun, but much better at the shore!

A few years ago I read an Onion article about a mom on vacation and how she pretty much does all the things she does at home just several miles closer to the ocean. It's true. Homemakers make homes wherever they are. It's not something you vacation from. But homemaking at the shore is different than elsewhere. I love being here.

It's rainy and gray, but it's beautiful. The air is thick with salty moisture. I know it doesn't sound lovely, but it is.

Just glorious!

Koselig!

I love fall. Yesterday I walked along the trail appreciating the golden leaves against the bright blue sky. It's one of my favorite times of year!

Today I am sitting at Starbucks looking out at a gray and damp parking lot. All the tress I can see are completely bare of leaves. On all accounts it is a dreary day.

And I love it. It's probably because I'm listening to Christmas music, and planning Christmassy things. It's November 13. And it's a Monday. So begins another week. So begins another cold and dark season. But it thrills me!

Monday should be depressing. But dude! New beginnings (yeah, I know the week begins on Sunday). And yeah, this weather heralds the death of all things. Cold, miserable months ahead, right?

But that doesn't have to be the attitude. And I know, I'm one to talk. I still have a hard time accepting humidity, so I get that gray and rainy isn't for everyone. But every year I get more and more into the Scandinavian ideas of coziness. Koselig and Hygge are my new favorite words!

I don't love winter because it's cold and gross. I love it because it's cozy! Fires and friends, and hot chocolate and the hushed sounds of falling snow.

Yes, today on this cold and rainy day I am looking forward to it getting even colder!

Listening Heart

Doing things is overwhelming.

You know that feeling when you have so many things going on that you're sure you'll forget something?

I felt that way last night. Like something was about to be forgotten but I didn't know what. I usually write stuff down so that I don't forget things. But what if I forget to write stuff down?!

Luckily I didn't lie awake fretting. I was able to sleep last night, and this morning I got a bunch of things done. Okay, maybe like two things done, but even just accomplishing one thing made life feel much more manageable.

One thing got done, and suddenly my brain was like "It's all good!"

It also helps that today is gross and rainy. Haha. Like for real, today is cozy and amazing.

There is a crackling fire behind me and someone bought me pizza and listened to me.

I don't think I really understood the value of listening until this summer/fall. I mean, I always knew it was important. So maybe I didn't really understand what listening was until someone actually listened to me.

If you don't know what listening is I'm not sure that I can explain it, because I really thought I understood it before now, but now I'm not so sure.

I guess there is a listening where someone's eyes glaze over, or they say something like "When you are talking I have to think about other things or I'll fall asleep." But there is also a listening where you can see affection in the other person's eyes, and concern and care, and you know that they are listening not just with their ears but with their eyes and heart.

It is a gift to be heard.

I sat and ate pizza on a rainy day and someone listened to me and cared. And the world feels brighter.