It’s a noisy world, and I think a lot about trying to find the signal in all the noise that matches the rhythm I want for my life. And that’s why I meditate.
Yes, I’m going to give it a try, the #100 day project on Instagram for 2024. I have to say, it’s in my nature to finish what I start whether I should or not, so the upside is that I do tend to be more consistent with taking the time to make some work every day.
The downside is that these days I have a strange relationship with the idea of discipline – doing the same thing over and over. On the one hand, perhaps that is the besr way to identify my style. On the other hand, if the “rules” I choose for the challenge stop being fun, that’s time I could be exploring something else.
So here’s where I landed. A journal of mixed media paper (2 if I make it to 100 days). A 5” x 5” outline. 25 minutes a day.
That’s it. No subject matter. No restriction on what I do inside that space. Or maybe a few, because for the first 30 days, I’m away from home, so limited to the supplies I brought with me. But then, who are we kidding. We drove, I brought plenty.
Still, I expect later on some collage and maybe stitiching will start to show up.
Meanwhile, so far every day it’s something new-ish. (There’s a little bit of a secret color of the day rule sneaking in too, but that’s another story).
Maybe, as it often the case, it will all make sense in the end.
The time is approaching, as Instagram keeps reminding me, to think about the 2024 version of the #100 day project. Since my intention last year was to “resolve” and this year to “curate”, my attention has been on looking around my studio and giving some love to some of the series or challenges I’ve already completed, more or less.
A couple of years ago, I spend about 30 days making quick dialy collages. The rules were, use black paper as a substrate and work with a lot of transparency, and mostly with monochromatic color schemes corresponding to a “color of the day” framework I use (that’s a story for another day).
Then, they kind of sat there in a drawer. I thought it was time to take another look. Maybe to think about whether or not they are sale-worthly, or at least display-worthy, or just to see how they stood up over time.
Some I liked right away, and some I felt needed some refinement or reimagining. And as I worked with each one, I thought maybe they deserved, or I deserved, to be dressed up a little bit. I’m always happier when I see pieces in a mat, at least, if not a frame, but usually don’t make the investment. This time I did.
A while ago I was on a podcast talking about how your Enneagram number may impact your creative life (I’m apparently a six). The interviewer responded to something I said by saying “oh, so you are loyal to the work”. I guess that’s what this is.
Anything involving water – me in the water, me around the water – just makes meditation better for me.
That’s why I have to share this experience even though it was years ago – it was called a Himalayan Sound Bath.
It took place in a swimming pool @MiravalArizona and was led by the lovely @pamlancaster108.
Picture a small group standing in the shallow end of a nice warm shady pool. You get a pool noodle under the arms and floats on your ankles. You lay back with your legs over a floating lane marker, the noodle under your arms, eyes closed. Behind your closed eyes, the light changes, just a little, as the sun comes in and out of the shade. Once everyone settles in, the leaders start to play the Tibetan bowls.
Because the bowls are in the water, the sound transmits, but so do the vibrations, so your whole body feels the sensation. Now here’s the good part – eventually, and if you are lucky more than once, one of the leaders makes their way over to you, places a bowl in your chest or stomach, and makes it sing. There’s nothing like it.
A privileged experience, for sure. But here’s what’s fun – last time I was in a pool there was this donut shaped float, and I put my butt in it and closed my eyes and felt the sun and the breeze. I think the floating vacuum even added a little hum, and everything just fell away, just like it did the fancy time.
