acceptance solitude

A beautiful youtube video and a wonderful EncaustiCampers post to share; then my own thoughts!

http://youtu.be/k7X7sZzSXYs

From beautiful blogger and EncaustiCamper Lee Spangler of www.Studiolightblue.com

The Benefits of Solitude

The best art is created in solitude, for good reason: it’s only when we are alone that we can reach into ourselves and find truth, beauty, soul. Some of the most famous philosophers took daily walks, and it was on these walks that they found their deepest thoughts.

My best writing, and in fact the best of anything I’ve done, was created in solitude.

Just a few of the benefits I’ve found from solitude:

• time for thought

• in being alone, we get to know ourselves

we face our demons, and deal with them
• space to create
• space to unwind, and find peace
• time to reflect on what we’ve done, and learn from it
• isolation from the influences of other helps us to find our own voice
• quiet helps us to appreciate the smaller things that get lost in the roar

I've been getting a lot of input relating to solitude lately. I hold a curious wonder at why this is all coming at me, seemingly, at once. I am due for some time in creative retreat mind you; the past 8 months, with a good 10 weeks more to go, of teaching and not being available to the studio for more than a three week block of time-paired with housekeeping and home keeping as well-has me aching for some devoted, distraction less studio time to get creative!
But solitude, I think-despite this pace, has been happening. As I teach far and near, I have moments of alone; in which I sit quietly and listen, walk and reflect, take breaks in between classes and explore-alone. This to me has been valuable, necessary solitude within the furious, sometimes harried days of connecting with like-minded souls across the states :)
I even get ample solitude on the homefront-on a daily basis. For those of you who know my habits, or watch my posts on facebook, twitter and blogging, duly note that I am an early riser!
These precious, before-the-sun, morning moments are blessed with utterly quiet, restful hours of reading and journaling before thoughts and actions that will become my days 'doing' begin to invade.

In the summer months these early hours are enhanced by the just going down minutes of communication with my youngest son as he signs off of his day and I begin my next; a little gift in these last years of children at home.
But the solitude that has been speaking to me in verse
and commentary
and blogging
is different than these captured, treasured moments in between the 'stuff' of my days.

The solitude speaking to me is one of investment, and planning and preparedness. It is one of intention and acceptance. I say acceptance because committing to solitude is difficult; and I don't believe this is true just for me.
It is hard to gift oneself time to oneself. To separate from the demands of job, or family, children or church, craft or commitments and just be in the alone that is required in proper solitude.

It is necessary to get to a place of personal commitment, and strength, courage and acceptance that will supplant the guilt, sense of self indulgence and doubt that is sure to invade the psyche upon determining a need for a block of solitude.

I mean really...if we are built for relationship, then how dare we step aside to take time in quite, absolute, exquisite!, solitary confinement right?!
But it is necessary, truly required I've found, in order to be properly 'all in' for the rest of ones' life: For this relationship-created life we've been called to.

The unfortunate element in this is that it is rare in youth that we discover this necessity.
Youthfulness is consumed by doing and finding, establishing and building.
There is rarely time and space to allow for rest and regrouping.
Often times this leads to the unfortunate breakdown of relationships, abilities-as we stretch ourselves too thin, and in some cases, when not checked in time,
ourselves.
Yet, perhaps it is in this learning that can only happen in the gathering of years on our calendar of life that we can truly breathe deep and relinquish ourselves to the necessity and unselfish side of taking time out to accumulate the nothingness of solitude.

And with that nothingness~
deep peace and wisdom to step back into the doing we've spent our years creating.
And embrace it with the same fervor and anticipation that came at its inception. Thereby, re birthing our youthful stamina and zeal, with this added balance of peace and acceptance.
Ah. That's the joy so spoken of.
Bring it on. I am ready. Unselfishly ready.
To solitude.
Check me on the other side of November :)
in love. trish.

where we travel

Life takes us through so many unexpected twists and turns. I sometimes feel so engaged, so present, so 'in control' and other times, completely lost- as if skittering across the surface of an icy lake in ballet slippers....

I am deep in skittering right now. I think I’ve been deep in skittering more than deep in arabesques as of late. Just as I think I've got the path figured out, or the next step taken, clarity dissapears into a foggy unknown....
Small spots of controlled choreography have dotted the landscape; finding my foundation in Christ, then discovering it was there all along, just waiting for me to open my eyes to the presence. Reconnecting with John and getting married. Securing my second book production. Recognizing the value of being an ‘at a distance’ mom. The vision and manifestation of EncaustiKits and EncaustiCamp. These have all come as perfect pirouettes on the stage of my last few years.

But right now, I am skittering along in the unknown mire of melting ice-the accompaniment a bit off and the dance troupe moving to a different cadence. That same choreography that came together so well in the above moments is also revealing melted spots where the composition of the dance makes little or no sense whatsoever. The execution seems to be skewed at best. The steps don’t land where they ought and no part is working cohesively. Yet….

I’ve read; they say; word on the street is, that this is okay. I’m advised to continue through it-as if not faltering in the script but rather executing a perfect performance. That to fake it in this way will in the end, bring about the vision as it’s to be manifest and the entire composition will become clear and reveal a truly beautiful execution.
Not fake it in a false way mind you, but rather in the way that is to push through the fear, work through the doubt, stay focused despite any anxieties or naysayers and be true to the vision. And stay determined to stay determined even when up against your biggest adversary; self.

I’d love to tell you I have been steadfast; not a day of doubt, nary a moment of near tail-turning-to-run. But that would be a lie, and I won’t do that.
But I’ve persevered; thanks to a lot of help. Help I have been reluctant to embrace in the past and am now coming to realize is nothing like what such assistance used to be: A point of payback, a give with strings attached, a take it, but know there’s a cost to be extracted.
This new kind of help, from the right sources and situations, comes with blessings that not only have me leaping forward into the next graceful move, but wanting to payback for the sheer delight in the thanksgiving of it.

But I digress. I’m still in the melting ice.

This past weekend offered another glimpse into how the routine looks as its perfectly executed. I got a fleeting glance through the crack in the door at where this trip is taking me. And I can hardly contain myself for the anticipation; and find it hard to turn away from the glance for fear of having to move on it as well.
It’s that perfect moment snapshot that you want to savor, even though you know flipping to the next will continue to bring delight. That photo of a grinning face alongside the raised, flopping king salmon-the joy of the catch caught on film with the anxiety, strain and waiting forgotten behind the flash.
Sometimes it’s hard to keep on dancing: knowing from experience that the amount of delight is made measurable by the degree of sweat equity invested.

I’ve traveled a lot the last two years. I haven’t kept track of the locations and stops beyond scheduling and executing them; it’s just not my way to track things and log a record for posterity. I tend to live in the planning and execution rather than the revisiting of life~
Yet, some shine in my memory more brightly than others. I’ve just had one of those this past weekend.
I received an extra special addition with a last minute invitation to take part in an intimate encaustic retreat just two hours away at the Grunewald Guild.
Nestled in the mountains about two hours from Seattle, the Grunewald Guild could be the highlight of Plain, Washington. Plain is a spit of a town, easily missed as you visit Stevens Pass ski resort or travel on to Leavenworth-Washington state’s Bavarian Village (doesn’t every state have one?!)

Home to two popular recreational lakes, Lake Wenatchee and Fish Lake, Plain also sports a delicious espresso bar that shares real estate with the hardware store (sic gift shop, home décor, collectibles destination). A must stop, I imagine, on cold mountain-snowy drives.
But I stopped at none of these destination delights. I went straight for my retreat; Wax & Wane at Grunewald Guild.

Created and facilitated by Shannon Newby, a proficient group of encaustic artists and beeswaxy buffs came together for three days of sharing and connecting with registrants. And oh what a blessed connecting we had!
As the 11th hour addition, I had the joy of teaching, sharing and connecting without the angst of planning and weeks of preparation  A bit of a guilty indulgence on my part I admit; I went in just hoping I could give back what I knew I would be blessed to take away. That can only be judged by the attendees: As for my take away?-received in spades!

In addition to several sessions of demonstration and work time in the wax, the weekend included presentations on bees, review of contemporary encaustic artists work, a screening of Sister Bee and a favorite for me and my take-away reason I was supposed to be there; a working model of my vision for my own retreat designs for 2012-a truly providential addition and a definitive sign of God’s guiding hand~

The entire retreat was onsite; registrants staying in the Guild accommodations, meals served by the staff chef and prayer and matins offered by the Guild director. A total package indulgence that inspired and spurned me on to staying the course I have been dreaming to follow.

And yet, as I continue into my scheduled ‘next’; traveling to Michigan, quickly followed by four days at ArtFest with immediate turn around flight to Phoenix for NAMTA, I slip and slide in my slippers over the melting ice; looking for a foothold in which to support my next arabesque and yet lingering on the near perfect execution of this weekends’ pirouette.
It is good.
I do not have to work from a clear and concisely written score; God does not work this way. I have to trust and faithfully plant my foot for the next move and leave the perfect execution up to his graceful attendance.

Wax & Wane: An Encaustic Conference from Grunewald Guild on Vimeo.

This first time test can be counted by Shannon as a successful foray into her goals and objectives for art and her faith. I was blessed to be graciously invited to be included in the weekend and couldn’t have come away with more affirmation of my goals in return.
And I will trust in the design as revealed thus far and look forward to the next opportunity to plant my foot, lift my toe high and dance into the next unknown. Propelled in faith; dancing through fear. It is His way. In love. Trish
And in that, I announce here, I will be hosting another encaustic retreat through Grunewald Guild in partnership with Becky Stromberg (a Wax&Wane instructor) November 6-11. Email for details! pbsartist@aol.com

sitka center for art and ecology residency

Yes, I'm working in multiple mediums...not doing mending!

Blogging hasn't come easily lately; you've noticed you say?! Honestly-I've felt like I've been sharing my heartaches more than anything else. Yet recently I came to realize that it isn't the heartaches I'm spilling in these pages, as much as the growth and learning that's occured as a result of them, so I am back at it! Accepting my 'voice', come what may, and spilling my heart, aka guts!, to these posts. :)

So for now, welcome back! To me, to you, to accepting this voice, to not withholding and to responding to what is mine alone to give. I wont always get it right, yea duh, but sometimes that's the fun-figuring out what went wrong and making adjustments to walk most honestly.

And where am I now you ask?! Physically-in Otis, Oregon. Nestled into the pines at the mouth of the Salmon River as it finds its entry into the Pacific Ocean. Pausing and painting on a nugget of less than an acre of land dedicated to furthering the arts and ecology of this amazing bit of creation: Sitkacenter.org.

Blessed by this swiftly disappearing two week residency-among five other artists who have planted themselves for almost four months, I am sucking the marrow out of every minute. 312 hours; a mere 18720 minutes. Math skills aside, it is fleeting!

With Patrick tucked safely under my mother's wing, I left home after just eight days back from my twelve day workshop whirlwind through Texas. He has officially become a teenager-he's more enraptured with having me gone than home.

The first night here found heavy coastal rains pummeling the roof of my austere residence. Tracking large amounts of pine needles into what would be my home for two weeks was unavoidable as I unpacked everything to sustain me for the duration. A bundle of tulips from a friend; photographs of the boys to perch on the table; my pile of books stacking haphazardly beside the bed; a small plastic frog entrusted to me by my sister. This 20'x20' is redolent of Trish.

Sitka headmasters Eric Vines and Jalene Case graciously afforded me exclusive use of the vaulted ceilinged, worn wood floored, ocean view space of Boyden Studio to set up shop. After that first night of pelting rain, deeply warming sun has pervaded and walking to the distant sound of crashing waves in the early morning light has been heart lifting-(if not shin splinting! there are HILLS here!) To deny God in this place is irrefutably impossible.

The wax warms, my sewing machine hums, the burning tool glows red: I am intent on filling every ounce of my time. With the obvious lack of daily distraction, or maybe in spite of the tremendous temporal distraction, I've set about each day to indulgent design and creativity.

Where Texas was about intense sharing, connection and expansion, Sitka is proving to be about creativity, introspection and self awareness. Two opposites it would seem; back to back on the calendar, brimming my soul with needed totality. I found it easy to turn down an invitation to indulge in fresh-dug mussels and red wine as I explained my deep desire to remain reflective and creatively committed (just about my favorite meal mind you...)

Saturday afternoon found me taking my first official break as I hiked the headlands. After breathtaking inclines and multiple wood plank bridge crossings, I traversed a high meadow to view the awesome Pacific Ocean as the Salmon River spills into it. Vistas all the way to Lincoln City's beaches-and feeling as if I could see up to the Puget Sound, I couldn't help but smile upwards in thanksgiving. It blows my mind to be moving in the blessings of this life: Harmoniously listening to His directives and fluidly praying my dreams back. A day without goosebumps is rare any more. Yes, even in the pain. (Shoot, I currently have a head cold and miss my boys with an ache that feels like it has teeth sunk into it.) And yet, this was one of the super goosebumpy days. God's grace is amazing. Grabbing hold and going-in love. trish.