What's it really mean to dream2~

This is one in a series of posts in which Trish attempts to dissect the purpose and meaning of dreaming; of looking beyond what is to what if~

Working my way towards the answer myself....and here's part III-dream, finale, I put on paper before me~

Back to my original post, my intent from the start of this search and query.

I'm risking.
I'm tossing my dreams out there.
Not to get responses. Not to hear the naysayers-neither the
encouragers.

I'm dreaming in pen and ink so I can see it
so I can live it
And so I can be it.

I'm tossing my dreams out there.
out here.

'I have become a sign to many; you are my strong refuge. My mouth is filled with your praise, declaring your splendor all day long.
psalm 71:7-8

I want to be a sign to many.
I don't know what that looks like.

I don't know what it even means.
I just know it gives me goosebumps when I say it.
my heart rate increases when I let my spirit feel it.
my mind goes numb when I try to wrap myself around it.

And that's enough for now.

Three big dreams.
Three Big Dreams.
They are out there.
They are out here.
In black and white.
Words on paper.
I've said them aloud.
I've written them aloud.
I've risked their exposure.
Risk
succeed or fail.

doesn't matter.
Only matters that I dream.
And live into it~

in love. trish

What's it really mean to dream-to ?

 This is one in a series of posts in which Trish attempts to dissect the purpose and meaning of dreaming; of looking beyond what is to what if~
Working my way towards the answer myself....


'The master of the art of living makes little distinction between work and play, labor and leisure, mind and body, information and recreation, love and religion. He simply pursues his vision of excellence at whatever he does, leaving others to decide whether he is working or playing. To him, he's always doing both.'
James Michener

My work is play, and my play is life.
I am blessed.
And yet~
I want more.
I am dreaming-to.
I have a dream-to.
Bigger. Bolder. More.
And it is good.
It is right.
It is prescribed.
He makes my feet like the feet of a deer, He enables me to go on great heights. Habakkuk 3:19

It is all good.
Dream. See how big you are really designed to be.
in love. trish

October 07, 2012

What's your world look like today?

a blessed reminder....

the delight-surprise of a rarely seen journaling male...

an adorable puppy pining for attention over my glasses and green tea~

my finished 'busy-hands' work

a beautiful city

inspiring ceilings

the Atlanta night sky; devoid of stars....

what my world looks like today~
in love. trish.

how long have you been painting?

How long have you been painting? How long have you done encaustic? How long have you worked this way?

brandishing a paintbrush perhaps?!

How long? I know you’ve heard it too; the value behind the question.  The implied weight of the expected answer.

Do you have longevity in the arts? Has your time spent equated to your time invested? Time. Energy. Duration.

not a feather duster; a new paint applicator :)

When did it become the factor of determination in a good piece of art? In the value of an artist?

Certainly time plays a role; each piece created didn’t happen in the hours of the brush to its particular board, but in the months and years that brought the brush strokes of its composition to lie in just the way it has equal its end result.

So I applaud the test of time.

Just not in the questioning of my worth.

But I answer to it here now because I have reached that line of demarcation; I’ve passed over 40 and can be looked at as a person with experience, a life worth listening to based on years passed by….

I have been an artist all my life.

So cliché.

But I have.

So have you.

So has my engineer dad.

And my human resources sister.

And my facilities manager husband.

We have all been artists our entire lives.

Face it, we are here to create. Just as we’ve been created.

I have been an artist my entire life.

I created the life I am living by breathing through each and every day and choosing to awake to the next.

If you want me to look only at encaustic, I have been an encaustic artist for ten years.

 A decade. 

Splattering into my mixed watermedia before finding my right way into the art of encaustic painting.

But the value of this creation is only complete when it is shared.

So I teach.

And I create more; workshops-

kits to bring encaustic more easily and affordably to a wider audience-

a retreat to indulge the art of mixed media encaustic in a dynamic all inclusive way-

a life traveling and instructing

as many,

 as much,

as far as my eyes can possibly fathom; and then some. 

in love. trish

monday musings #5

Your life is the door you open to it. To which doors have you chosen access?

 in love. trish

monday musings #3

A fortress is built to keep something out. A temple is built to invite something in.
How is your heart (built)?

 in love. trish

sunday sermonets #2

etremely fearful

apprehensive

a little anxious and really intrigued

mildly nervous but really excited

quietly confident and really joyful

The Art of Thinking Brilliantly. 

Choose today to be your 17 minutes of mind changing
in love. trish

just like a dog

this morning I walked before the sunrise.
I used to do this a lot, beginning just as the birds began to chirp.
But as of late I"ve been more inclined to lace up the sneakers just after sunrise.

The fog sat over fields.
The light was just a touch of paint in the sky.
And each breath I felt myself lifting higher.

Anne Lamott  in her book Traveling Mercies speaks of a neighbor diagnosed with a terminal brain tumor who is often seen driving slowly down the street with his window down, leaning out just enough to feel the air; with a delighted smile emblazoned on his face; enamored with the sheer delight of living.


I get that.
I got that. This morning.
I want to hang my head out the car window and feel the bright air lap at my dangling tongue.
The full dose of blessed, awe-inspiring living.

Just like a dog.
I love this living~
in love. trish

there's no other way to go!

how often do you get to fly on a mobile hotel?! Two stories of sleeping quarters and seats. Too much fun.

 Some of you have noticed the glaring absence of posts, pictures, information from my trip, life altering trip!, to Australia this past spring (US spring that is :)
Sorry about the delay. Stuff needed to be pondered. Things needed to roll around. People had to be consulted. I had to truly trust that God was not saying 'no' (nod to all my EncaustiCampers on this one ;)))) )

 'Queenslander' The traditional house of the norther tropical climate; they let in the air!

And now, well, I guess there's no time like the present now. Putting off the news at this point is simply a selfish savoring on my part...and that's just uncalled for!

I still think their outlets look like ghost faces- woooooooo :)

John said yes.
Patrick said yes.
My other boys said YES!
My parents said,
'how can we help?' (a parental YES of the best kind)

A view etched into my brain~

 So we said yes.
John, Patrick and I will move to Australia January 2013 to live for two years. Not forever; two years.

Amazing trees; roots that is!

 I will teach; inspire that great continent to encaustic and all it's possibilities. John will follow his passion of thoroughbred breeding (the #3 sport in AU as fate would have it!) and Patrick will complete high school online while traveling and assisting me at workshops, demonstrations and expos wherever possible. He proved to be an invaluable asset at EncaustiCamp and I expect this opportunity to give him a foothold into his true calling~

I don't know; I just thought they were cool! I'd use these at home :)

Are we crazy? Most assuredly.
Are we scared? Nearly every other hour.
Are we convinced? Undoubtedly; this is the way for us right now.
I look down that road of 'future' and what I see is more of this; traveling, teaching, inspiring, living. More of me; living.
I know it will be good.
So we shove fear aside when it rises, we take the next step as it opens up in all the 'stuff' that must happen to make this happen, and we trust bigger than ourselves.

It's a flower; really!

There is no other way.
Because, this is SO much bigger than our selves.

And my heart beats faster....

So once the Visa is secured (help anyone!?)
the house here rented,
our cars sold or stored,
the cats in a new home,
an AU home secured,
two suitcases each-only packed full,
and support from fantastic material suppliers guaranteed (more on this later!)
we will depart.
A whole lot poorer (whew, it costs to do this!) but
wow, exponentially richer.
in love. trish.
'Success, and a fair prospect of more, is a keen reason to stay and labor in a particular place. Matthew Henry~

next

Life in art: buffing encaustic

Hem of His robe

To get a good shine and to reveal  depth in encaustic it is essential that you buff the surface of your painting. This can not be done when it is still warm or just newly completed but must wait until the (waxen) layers have had time to settle and cure. It is not done just this once, but frequently, at regular intervals throughout the life of the painting. As is the case with all works of art they must be cared for, tended to, cleaned and even repositioned in order to be used and appreciated to their full value. As glass covered watercolors need Windex and a rag; acrylics need feather dusting and assemblage a sometimes vacuum, so encaustic takes well to a buffing.
There is no need to be rough or course in this cleaning; encaustic is most receptive to a soft, nonabrasive cleaner. It's beauty and depth is most clearly revealed through a gentle application of this nonabrasive attention. If having been left for a long duration unattended to, it may take a time or two of this cleaning in order to reveal its true depth and potential, but notice increased pressure or hand in the stripping away of accumulated layers will not effect it nearly as well as this gentle hand applied more frequently and with intention to stripping away the accumulation in layers: As they accumulated so they must be removed.
It is this beautiful attention to consistent attention that will reward the most beauty, value and worth from your encaustic painting. Of course it is durable enough to withstand long periods of neglect, after all its very nature is one of ancient invention and creative largess. But never will you find the best it has to offer coming from neglect or ignorance of this type; so prescribed regular attention is always preferred-with benefits far outshining the investment of effort put forth to maintain its beauty. And know, as you establish this routine of regular attention, care and maintenance along with cleaning, the work of it becomes more and more easy. You find yourself, if not enjoying the task of cleaning away accumulation, at least finding no extreme difficulty in coming to it as a routine in your regularly scheduled living.

Come here to Me

 It becomes not so much cleaning and maintaining as renewing and refreshing. Care for your work of art to its fullest with these simple, achievable guidelines and it will give back to you a lifetime of abundant joy and pleasure~

in love. trish

'nother lesson learned...sigh!

Lord forgive me for doubting that you can and will always make all things good....
God forgive me for once again falling into cynicism; you still again bless me exeedingly and abundantly despite my short-sightedness.....
Jesus forgive me for striving to 'do', over and over again, when you took care of this and have allowed me to just 'be'.....
Holy Spirit forgive me for letting negativity live in my heart, thereby marring the lovely place in which you live and limiting the blessings you never cease to pour into my life.....
Ah....that's better!
in love. trish.
:)

heart wisdom

'give your body credit for it's own innate wisdom'

What does this statement mean to you?

It has been a guiding force for me over the past few years; and grows stronger each day I live by its conviction.

Because of changes I hadn't scripted into the dialog of my life, I was, blessedly, forced to actually listen to my body's signals and wisdom. You know the ones, those small changes in heart rate, sense of unease in the gut, pressure in your heart that if ignored can grow and fester?! Living from this listening place has been amazing: life altering and self actuating~sending me down paths I hadn't recognize as mine to take in years past.

Listening to your own bodies' signal in response to communication, societal expectations, parental dictum's and even heartfelt, lovingly directed suggestions instead of reacting with your minds' interpretation of these forces can be the difference between living and dying. Truly. The day I turned on the choice to do this listening is the day I unconsciously chose to live. No dramatizing-just truth. To make this choice and move forward in self awareness began a journey toward fully living in the best of who I am. And in that, I made the choice to live. No longer settling for struggle. No longer getting sick, desperately so sometimes, and ignoring the reason for its development in the first place. No longer blindly tripping after anothers' direction. No longer accepting the assumed wisdom of anothers' insights over my own truth telling sense and God given abilities.

I thank God for creating in me a powerful passion directing my feet: One so strong that it broke through this living in fear, worry and anxiety and ignited my own passions' dormant flame; feeding it to bonfire proportions. Guidance can come in the strangest way and under the most seemingly impossible directives sometimes.

There are those who have accused me of being a dreamer; striving for unrealistic possibilities; foolishly believing in passionate filled doing over strife filled determination. To their way I can no longer step. In their thinking I can no longer abide. I simply say yes. Absolutely yes! And forever always saying yes to this~I take the accusation willingly and remain true to it every day: I no longer have ears to listen-only heart to hear.

'There are some who will go their entire lives and not live a single day. She did not choose to be one of them.' in love. trish

wearing the right fit

I find that I get better at standing in my own shoes the more I do it. Makes perfect sense, I know, but let me explain. For most of my life I've trod the path of others-in borrowed shoes if you will. I never realized they were shoes on loan; I thought I was wearing my true fit when I was taking steps in them. But in bits and pieces over the years I began to feel that missteps and stumbles along my life's path weren't happening because I had made an incorrect choice but rather because I was trying to make someone else's shoes fit my form. My feet, my soul, was trying to move me on the path true to it while the shoes I was wearing were trying to keep me pointed in the direction they had laid for me. A clashing of finality occurred nearly six years ago now and the ability for the two forces to coexist on this one set of ten toes became definitively impossible. The stumbles and missteps of previous years came back to me for what they were-attempts by my true soul to carry me instead of the borrowed imposter's. Sometimes it takes a sledge hammer to the side of the head to come to this realization and send the borrowed, incorrectly fit sneakers flying off one's feet. Sometimes one is gifted with the ability to chose and wear the perfect fit from birth.

Little stumbles and missteps still occur today, two years after complete assimilation to this true set of walking shoes designed just for me. But the stumbles are recognizable as my own misguided steps and I am quick to take notice, listen and realign the direction the toes are pointed.

To come to be wearing my size as I have-after being directed by a surrogate set for so long-the walking now a days has a brightness, an intensity and passion in each and every moment that still stands to astound me. Awake. Smiling and fueled by life. in love. trish

don't throw it away

I could be referring to garbage, recycles, old clothes, piles in the attic, unused gadgets....but I admit it...I'm doing the 'mushy' and referring to love. Don't groan! You can survive this diatribe-love makes us fools, but love is beyond enriching as well. I'll get back to art and baking tomorrow-promise! I have three quiche, bruschetta, hummus and truffles to create as well as a bunch of boards ready to be plastered and burned! (make you curious?! hungry?!)

Love. Why is it so confusing? I've been debilitated by the sudden sucking absence of it in my days. There, then gone. It filled my every moment, then became a vacant hollow, absent of everything but ache. Surprised the heck out of me. Knocked the Brooks All Terrains right out from under me-The wax encrusted paint brush from my hand-The dough splattered wisk from my grasp.

I was fine before love became the waking force in each of my days. I was walking, talking and breathing independently and fully until it rapped on the latched door to my heart. 'I don't need this and will not let it in!' I professed. Oh fool that I be....I think if you were standing next to me at the time you could've heard the fateful 'woosh' of the latched door being torn from its' hinges.

Maybe I wouldn't be this way if I'd never spied what was knocking on the other side of that cracked door. But then I wouldn't have the knowledge of it's existence. I'd be plodding along in the oblivion of assumed existence. Assumed love is there somewhere. Assumed partners exist for everyone; somehow. Assumed God has a plan for my heart that will one day, some day, manifest.

But, that's not an option anymore. No more assumptions. I've touched it, I've felt it, I've tasted it. It exists in real time and I don't want it taken out with yesterday's table scraps. My heart is starved for the rich filling up that deep connection creates in my moments. I crave the sweet fulfillment the right person brings to everything I do, say, feel and create. Everything-that much more complete in the sharing. A vulnerability I've run from for 40+ years. Foolish girl. I run to it now. Open hearted seeking more. Don't throw it away. Love. Trish

smile now

do you forget sometimes? to smile? wake up and smile. how many lives would change, days would shine or hearts would open if everyone began with a smile? and, if not a smile, then what? and if not now, when?

smile now. trish