Hello dear reader.
We have been blessed with unseasonably warm weather these last few days and you can feel the change in people’s moods floating in the air. A perceptible shift that is contagious. With every ray of sunshine, each face I see is looking up and out and towards the glow. We’ve all been yearning for the warmth and sun and it’s finally here. And we’re seedlings on steroids, sprouting straight up and blossoming into sunflowers in a day.
I always love when the calendar flips to March, it signals the change ahead. And today, spring is officially sprung. Change can often be daunting, but it can also be exciting. I’m finding myself in the latter camp these days and it’s a great place to be. In my year of unlearning, space has opened in my mind and my heart. Instead of feeling scared, I’m feeling a spark of excitement.
With this new found space, I’m learning to play, stay loose in my body, let go of pre-conceived notions, accepting what is. I’m finding myself opening up. Not unlike the sunflowers in the fields of France I’ve cycled past. Open to whatever might present itself. This is a new place for me. I like it.
🌻🌻🌻
I’m participating in a very flexible version of the #100days of art with
. Many of the creatives that gather for a weekly accountability call are feeling some form of burn out, creative block or social media overload. This was a bit of a surprise, although it shouldn’t have been. A general sense of overwhelm has been prevalent amongst people around the world these last few years. And being online appears to be a big trigger for many of us.And yet, we were all drawn by Emily’s offer to gather. A burned-out person’s version of a challenge to do something creative for 100 days. We came for the art, but it’s about much more. It’s become about acceptance, at least for me, of where we’re at in the moment, the day, the week. ‘Less is best’ is a running theme that seems to suit everyone in the group. Anything you manage to produce is given a hearty thumbs up. No pressure, just camaraderie. You can feel a collective sigh.
Many of us are venturing from our normal, pre-programmed selves when it comes to creating. We’re unlearning habits—in art as in life. We have found a place to stretch ourselves, share, be quiet, yet connected.
I am participating to experiment and flex a nascent creative muscle. I’m with a group of well-seasoned creatives, looking to find some respite and inspiration from a well-oiled art machine—mostly themselves because their art is their livelihood. It’s an interesting paradox for me.
I was drawn to Emily because of her experience of burnout from running an extremely successful business. In her newsletter Unqualified, she describes unravelling under the weight of her own success, and it felt eerily familiar.
I assumed the reason I wasn’t having more fun was me not doing my job well enough, so I doubled down, vowing to put the company first, no matter what. The more people we hired, the more responsibility I felt to not let them down, so I kept adding more to my plate. I stopped sleeping, stopped feeding myself actual food, stopped moving from my chair for eight hours at a time, holding my pee until I got one more thing done, stopped everything except producing and grinding and delivering.
She is the writer, founder and CEO of the wildly successful greeting card company, Em&Friends, and the creative genius behind the Empathy Cards series. You’ve probably seen or bought one of her cards where she mixes incredibly relatable feelings in unique script.
She has a built-in creative audience from an active graphic design and art community. I was not one of them, but I was interested to be part of creating something on a regular basis and having the accountability of a group of like-minded women each week.
So far, I’ve tried my hand at sketching with pencil, watercolour pencil, brush pens and dot art. Tried being the operative word.
I live with an artist. He’s been prolific lately, with paintings and sketches adorning every window sill of our home. He is what I call a “real” artist. He can put ink to paper and what comes out is something that looks like the real thing—be it a boat, flower, fish or landscape. He doesn’t have a cell phone to distract himself with, but he has a sketch pad, and I love when he gets lost in it. He sits and sketches wherever we are. He has years’ worth of ink sketches stretching back to when we were first together. I fell in love with this part of him. I marvel at his talent every day.
My reluctance to try to draw or paint was my inability to get over the fact that my husband could create effortlessly, and it looked like something beautiful. My efforts never progressed past toddler-version art.
Until dot art last week.
I have been drawn to brightly coloured mandalas over the winter—and worked diligently on a 500-piece puzzle, only to get to the end to find one piece missing. Argh! I was mesmerized by the intricacy and couldn’t fathom how it was done. I came across an ad in a local magazine (yes, a real paper magazine, they still exist) for a workshop on mandala dot painting. I wanted to learn how the sausage was made, so I signed up.
To my shock and delight, I created my very own dot art mandala. Me. I created something bright and beautiful. And, it looks like a real thing, not just a hot mess.
It's been fun to explore, to have the space to discover where to next. Whether it be with art, creativity or life.
🌻🌻🌻
Up next, a veggie garden. My husband is off for spring break, so we are building a vegetable garden in our new downsized yard. I’m excited to plant sunflowers and watch them turn their faces to the sun this summer, just as we’ve done over these last several days of early spring weather.
Keep (un)Learning. KVB. Xo
What about you…
What are you making space for this spring?
Have you given yourself time for integration when it comes to healing and growth? What did you discover when you allowed yourself space?
Are you a nascent artist too? What’s your biggest visual art surprise?
Greetings Kim from Ontario .... apparently we are getting our Winter weather here, that didn't come in December and January. My poor flowers were just starting to bloom, now they are covered over with snow. I love your brightly coloured mandala. I will have to check in my area to see if anyone teaches dot art. It's something I would be interested in as well. I am taking dance lessons, have always wanted to but never have for many reasons. So now is my time to just do it. Great exercise, keeps my brain active remembering the steps. Even though I don't have a partner, I'm enjoying the lessons and look forward to it weekly. As always Love Annie xo
Seriously, what a lovely post... we are making room for six new baby chicks at my dad's since the whole Revenant re-enactment took place with the bear... the sole remaining Chicken "Needy" has been terribly lonely. I am making space for a Fresh Eyes Design course taught by Edward Tufte and more speech therapy.