☕ Death Café
An open conversation about life, death, and everything in between.
No agenda. No judgment. Just tea, snacks, and honesty.
Wednesday, August 20th, 5-7pm
The Foodshed, Woodstock
Come curious. Leave connected.
Facilitating: Sabrina Cienfuegos
So – I couldn’t wait- wanting to SEEEEEEE how this was gonna look IN COLOR. I just started watercoloring before this picture is even finished. (I have never watercolored over graphite on such a big piece. (16 x 20) Yikes.)
I always find new approaches inherently risky. And that’s why I opt for it, artistically, anyway. It pulls the rug out and makes me think on my feet. Use what I’ve got: Paint that’s lying around. Relying on my extremely rusty watercolor skill -set. Possibly ruining a picture that doesn’t really need any paint at all…
i also think- God knows that as I’ve been Arting around since forever, I’ve got a vague idea of the way forward, yet do not feel confident about my skills, this new thing I’m trying, and so I am finding myself disoriented.
(The fact that I have this gorgeous compilation of DANIEL SMITH watercolors just languishing is a huge motivator. The colors are so amazing. I got them 2 years ago, courtesy of a much appreciated Christmas gift certificate. I’ve decided to use them for this picture.)
Anyway, as I’m painting, my picture goes through my typical arc- The it sucks or crappy phase- which for me, I’ve learned, is often the most productive part of the creative act. It actually makes the risk more of an adventure as both my right and left brain come online together.
I know why I don’t feel right about it:
I dislike it because it doesn’t look like what it feels like in my mind. I don’t know what to do next. I’ve lost the plot.
What to do? I mentally refresh all the feels by re-visiting these 5 questions, the exact same ones I asked myself as I was composing this picture several months ago;
Which way is it?
Where will things be placed- and why?
What are the most basic shapes?
Where is it?
Are there any?
Wondering about the basic premises I started with allows for a kind of hyper- focusing, and I can ‘see’ a way forward, a technique, a process. In other words, I know exactly what to do next.
I’m mighty glad I sucked it up and went out on the proverbial limb and was able to catch the next neural branching. Growth, learning, and expansion become possible mainly at the boundaries. The ecotones between what I know and what I don’t know. The fertile ground of possibilities.
Which is leading to a type of NEW YEARS.
RESOLUTION.
How about this: To make it a habit of mine to dwell here among possibilities, the unknown – and then choose the courageous thing. If it’s true in art, is it true in life?!☘️
Happy New Year
May you be merry and bright🩷🥂💃🎂🙏🤣🐈⬛❄️❤️🐖🖍🤪😜🤣🧸☔️🔥🔥🦄
Nothings been coming in for awhile…no forests in my head, been working on other things.
For instance, I’m turning my Graphite Toolkit class into an online course- it’s been so successful in helping other artists that I’m like why not? (Cause it’s a lot of work, that’s why not), but now I’ve got lesson plans, videos and I’m also teaching it ‘live’ on zoom one more time, to iron out the wrinkles. I really really really love teaching , so despite the hard core organization, technical difficulties, massive learning curve – this is SO worth it to me to put an effort towards.
AND! I’m putting together a draw-along video class for kids (you and your grandkids, etc,👩🎨) download and print, follow along lessons you can do free on YouTube.
I’m telling you all this because this is happening for one reason, many moons in arriving. I am (finally) allowing myself to *just* be my crazy-ass artist self. It’s been a long road to get ‘here’, which is really only a very tiny shift in my perception and allowing of myself.
I tell you this as well. Joseph Campbell was correct when he mused, “Just do the thing that lights you up. And when you do, the whole world opens up to you. Unseen hands reach out from all quarters.” I paraphrase him – simply meaning that the help, opportunities, and connections are extraordinary in the sense of their ability to astound and delight me. I believe firmly we all have this inner spark- meant to jump start us when we most need it, to leap out of us and alight somewhere out there- a reflective collaborative Muse with our name on it. Inspiration. The top-secret ingredient in a really glorious life. We’ve always known this, whispered it to each other across countless ages. Allowing yourself, as you, reach that tentative, tremored younger, gentler, more adventurous self out into this modern world
Get to know yourself again. Look around you and see what inspires you now. What takes your breath away? Stops you in your tracks. Feels wonder-ful. That sense of aliveness. This is the gift of The Muse. Not a drawing, a book, a song, or any creation, but expression. The expression. The fuel of creativity. Creativity is a hallmark of humanity.
Get inspired.
Get to know yourself again, out in the world. Your reflection. I bet you find, like I am discovering now, all my friends accept me for exactly who I am. I’m the only one denying myself here. Bet it’s the same for you.
I think of the cave painting- the handprints of our distant ancestors on cavern walls- binding us in our individual expressions. That spark that makes you, you – the differentiating part of us that allows for our individuality – our unique handprint. What inspires you to do what you do? Find that and you’re golden. No one can take it away, it’s like nothing else in the world, it’s for sure magically delicious and it’s the inner core of your be-ing-in-the-world. You can truly be none other than who-you-are.
Come act out in the world in the way that suits you best, the way that makes you happy, and the way that best nourishes your soul. The response for me has been not easy, but delightful, one I wish I hadn’t waited so long to experience.
I express myself through my art. That may not be the way you have chosen to express yourself. Coolio. Art isn’t just for artists. Inspiration is you in action. The Muse does not rest on her laurels often. She is come and gone. You’re the one that actually takes the next inspired step. She merely gets your attention with some possibilities. Then, when she’s gone, or maybe a little before, I pick up my pencils and I begin working on getting a little more of myself onto paper, out in the world, some graffiti for the collective walls.🙏❤️👩🎨
That’s my working title anyway.
I saw/received/ had the idea for this drawing last week and sketched it out in the margin of some notes I was taking. I originally saw a bat in the central spot where the face is now. An upside down bat, like a gargoyle – I was thinking Gothic Cathedral, Notre Dame style gargoyles.
And now…a presence. This Presence. Oh my.
Certainly she’s been called a bat, a crone, a hag, an old lady. Probably worse. Most definitely worse.
All I know is that from where I sit, those word concepts do not jive with this Lady. This is fierce Mother Love. A uncompromising Love for Our Planet and Every Thing that dwells there upon. All encompassing. All devouring. All embracing. The prevailing wind.
That’s what this place, this cathedral forest seeks. Lovers of change, of motion, of life in the tumultuous moment. Those still centers that can witness Life in its endless cycling; unafraid.
Nurturing, holding, keeping, supporting, restoring, preparing, sustaining, soothing, reflecting: being with.
I am held. My new mantra.
I’ve finished two more forests and will post them soon-ish. These Forests are meditations, I think. Guides coming through? Hands/help reaching/piercing the veil. There are better metaphors maybe, but these work for now. For me, this drawing feels/confirms that I/we are not alone. And today, that is a very kind and welcome thought.
🙏❤️
When my student is beyond excited. When they have that look in their eyes. When I know that something clicked, an alignment occurred with their soul. We are together for an instant in this blissed out moment that feels like the entire universe exhaled an immense and satisfied ‘YES!’
Last week, Jim asked if he could take his picture home to work on. He was so excited to show his parents his work in progress. He’s been in class close to 16 weeks, developing his style; drawing, painting, penciling what he loves- reptiles, lizards and snakes. He is a walking encyclopedia on everything reptile. He is also a connoisseur of morning glories. His enthusiasm is contagious.
Recently, he’s adopted a new tool- Derwent Inktense Ink pencils. He uses an easel, inventing his style of working as he goes- experimenting with different papers, pencils, techniques…and last Thursday- BOOM! Lightning struck and he was hooked. The muse had him by the tail and it was just the coolest thing to witness. He grew exponentially, expanded beyond his old story of his ability and I was able to see THAT MOMENT.
‘Oh wow’ he said to himself, looking at his picture, his hands full of pencils and paintbrushes, ‘I love this. I love this.’
When class was over, as he’s walking out the door, I saw that he also had the case of the studio’s Derwent pencils. Around $150 worth of these amazing things, cradled to his chest.
So I’m like, ‘Er…you’re taking the pencils too?’ A bit hesitant to let these things walk out the door.
His face was absolutely shining, as he said so seriously – “Yes! I promise I’ll be careful with them. I promise! Is it ok if I borrow them, since no one else is using them?’
In that moment, I could see the monetary value of those pencils was absolutely nothing compared to the value that they had to him, this gifted 13-year-old artist who had just discovered an entire world of wonder and awe in a case of pencils. We had discussed the price of him buying the exact set earlier in class that day, so he knew what he was asking.
‘Yes.’ I said.
He didn’t even say thank you or goodbye, (which he does every time, because he’s a polite and gracious kid) he instead just turned and floated toward his mom, clutching the pencils and his drawing.
Is that not connection we’re all longing for? A direct pipeline to joy? This is what is sustainable. Find the things that expand you, that inspire you to become more of who you are. It’s not about ‘Am I ‘good’ at this or any other external marker. It’s about what fulfills you. And that is always an inside job. How do you find a way to let the radiance out? What is it that tickles your fancy, that you do just for the sheer delight of exploration and creativity?
‘Oh wow’ (you overhear your soul say), ‘I love this. I love this.’
And honestly, it feels exactly like the entire universe is exhaling an immense and satisfied ‘YES!’ -through you.
There is a lovely story told of Monet as he sat deep in thought in his garden. His neighbor looked over the fence at him and said “Ah, the life of the artist – all rest and repose.” Monet looked up in surprise and replied “No, you see, I am hard at work now. It is when you see me finally painting that all the work has been done. This composing, the pulling what I see to the canvas, this is the work my friend.”
I say this because every time I start something new there is a nasty bit of time where frustration and impatience threaten to end my creation even before it begins.
Frustrated by the inevitable loss of something in the translation from feeling/experience to manifest image, I lose my connection.
Frustrated by the fact that I don’t see clearly enough, I lose my connection.
Frustrated that I am ‘wasting time’, I lose my connection.
Meanwhile, my Muse patiently picks at her gel nail tips waiting for my return to the task at hand. It’s gonna happen. We know each other. We have a dance worked out.
I am greatly relieved to remember Monet and his understanding of the role of the artist in the attitude, preparation and conception of any creation. The necessary hard work which often deteriorates into courting, begging and flat –out threatening of the muse. My Muse, in addition to her traditional role as bringer of inspiration, has also taken on the admirable qualities of any good bartender/bouncer. She listens patiently, nods, encourages, yet will swiftly cut me off if I threaten unconsciousness. 
Ancient muses were lovely, slender ethereal beings. Looking more like one of Michelangelo’s manly, robust gals, my muse is fully prepared and willing to kick my ass. At first I was a bit put off by the tattoos and piercings, but I realize why she has had to toughen up.
We don’t take our muses seriously anymore. Only a century ago, Thoreau, Yeats, and Emerson walked endlessly across the countryside courting, pondering; thinking. Einstein takes a menial job so that he has time to think. Monet sits in the sun.
Time is a luxury. I know this. We say we don’t have the time. But time contains within it eternity. It takes only an instant for a sunset to move us to awe, the grateful look of a child can bring us to tears in a heartbeat, and lovers can show us the face of god.
Forget about time. I’m talking about attitude. Being open to the mystery, the awe, the wonder – Muses have always been irresistibly attracted to this type of human. If working out gets you into your creative grove, do it. If volunteering at your kid’s school gets your compassion going, be there. If having a glass of red and staring at a blank canvas gets you in the moment, do that. Cranking up the music on the drive home? Cooking gourmet dinners? Sitting in a garden? Do whatever it takes to show up.
Maybe art isn’t your thing. But if you are human, creativity is your thing. Your Muse is here. Waiting and a little impatient I might add. Tough gals now, appearing with sleeves rolled up and ready for work. Try to be there when she shows up.
So work it. Work the attitude. Spend time doing things that engage you with the mystery that is beyond, around, and within us all. If you can bring just one bit of that wonder and awe down here to earth, you have served us all well. Court the Muses, create space for their whisperings. (Yeah, unfortunately they still whisper. Seriously? Who whispers anymore?)
And if you don’t want to take my word for it, my other Muse whispers this:
It seems to me that it’s the work of poets and artists to know what the world-image of today is, and to render it as the old seers did theirs. The prophets rendered it as a manifestation of the transcendent principle. That’s what we lack today, really. I think poets and artists who speak of the mystery are rare. There’s been so much social criticism of our arts, which is just one facet. But the other function of the poet – that of opening the mystery dimension – has been, with few great exceptions, forgotten. I think that what we lack, really, isn’t science but poetry that reveals what the heart is ready to recognize. ~joseph campbell
We are here. Whatever the reason. Our only real job is to show up and be open to inspiration. We don’t get to choose to be inspired; it’s hard- wired into our nature. It has always chosen us. Let her find you ready to work when she comes.
The Journey 