Hi friends welcome !
Hope this finds you doing well.
I started this week eating a beautiful lunch in a posh restaurant overlooking the gorgeous Blue Mountains. I ended it by balancing an oversized sieve on top of my coffee cup, holding a paper filter in place with one hand and pouring boiling water into it with the other after leaving my coffee maker in said Blue Mountains. Its a roller coaster friends and word of warning those paper filters give way easy at the seams.
As always albeit a little late this week, here are a few good things to keep you company as you enjoy your weekend – – –
A Good Word
Source Jana Snyder
A Good Look
Wishing you this xx
See more of these sweet whimsical drawings at Primmies World
A Good Idea
We Might Not Be Ready
from Maeve Gerboth
We might not be ready to do something just yet. This isn’t to say we won’t ever be ready but perhaps right now, today, we aren’t.
I don’t think we welcome this enough.
Sure, sometimes we can get stuck in this place of not moving. But something else can also be true: perhaps now is not the right time. Perhaps there is wisdom, not a lack of courage within a pause.
Because what happens when our gut offers a deep hesitation?
What happens when we’ve changed and the things we thought we wanted aren’t so desirable anymore?
And what about when a season creates limits we cannot merely push through?
Sometimes timing is meant to teach us, not hold us back from “living our best life”. And I’d argue it’s not a lack of discipline or laziness to pause, it’s an act of strength.
Waiting, watching, and listening is some of the most active work we’ll ever do. Let us say that again: waiting, watching, and listening is active work.
And so, if you find yourself feeling a pause, shift, or halt – maybe it’s an invitation. Perhaps it’s not just a letting go but a leaning in. Perhaps it’s a sinker deeper into who you hope to become.
May we feel at peace in moving gently, sitting this one out, or quietly observing.
That is good work for today.
A Few Good Reads
Some good things here even if you don’t consider yourself a creative because we all are in some way or another
As a life-long creative, I’ve dabbled here and there with many a medium, yet I struggled with building consistency in my artistic practice for YEARS. In 2018, I began to build a daily creative practice, something sustainable and simple, knowing that every time I make space to create, my heart, brain, soul are a little lighter. A little happier. A little more me.
I borrowed an approach from Julia Cameron’s book An Artist’s Way. In her book, she teaches the value of morning pages: three longhand pages done first thing in the morning as a way to free up your creativity, unburden your mind, and push the practice of writing daily. I applied this same methodology to my artist pages, taking 10 – 15 minutes first thing in the morning to just create. No rules, no expectations. Only a dedicated time with a few simple tools and one 5” x 7″ cardstock to embellish as I wish. I started this for me to just play and make art, but am surprised by the unexpected lessons I’m learning along the way.
A boost of confidence.
Surprisingly, I found that carving out some space for me to try new things freed me up to take risks in my art that I previously shied away from. Daily practice breaks down the barrier of making art, taking it from precious to playful, and has opened me up to try new mediums, techniques, and applications. Treating my art as play reduces the fear and pressure around being perfect, helping me to just settle into the practice and have some fun. Approaching art as play and trying new things has bled over into other aspects of my life as well; I’m taking more risks and putting myself out there in ways I would have never thought. I have to think taking a few moments to connect with myself and create daily plays a big role in that – – – – keep reading
A fun one
Downstairs to Downstairs
: I’m worried about Rich Lady.
: Don’t be. She’s rich, ain’t she?
: Being rich doesn’t mean her horse can’t die/ her husband can’t die/ she can’t die/ she can wear a hat well.
: Stop arguing, you two! Someone needs to take this duck liver blancmange up to the dining room on the double!
: Humph! (Exits to the kitchen)
: Sigh! (Takes platter and exits up the stairs)
: In my day, people were happy to even get to smell a duck liver blancmange! (Exits down hallway)
Downstairs to Upstairs
: Oh, I am distraught over the shambles of my life.
: Even though my problems are punishingly more severe than yours, I will kindly listen to your tale of pampered woe – – – keep reading
And one more
A year ago, in the depths of the coronavirus crisis, before vaccines were widely available, newspapers and news shows were anticipating the worst January in American history.
Meanwhile, I was off on the high seas with a crew of 100, in the “watery part of the world,” as Herman Melville puts it on the first page of his 1851 novel, “Moby-Dick.” In fact, we were all safe in our respective homes, meeting on Zoom once a week while reading Melville’s masterpiece. But it felt like we were shipmates on an adventure through treacherous waters — not just in the book, but in the real world. Together, we encountered a giant squid, watched lightning and St. Elmo’s fire crackling through the rigging, and caught glimpses of the snow-white whale himself – – – keep reading
That’s all for now friends. Have a beautiful weekend. Rest up. Do something you love xx