What might you try?

"It is an interesting question: 'If I found myself and my thoughts interesting, what might I try?' We might discover we have a novel brewing that we have been too shy to unwrap. We might discover that we have a raft of paintings that are going unpainted lest we be 'dull.' We might discover that we are not putting to the page our one-woman show or our idea for a documentary film. If I were interesting, why, I might try any number of things."

~ Julia Cameron, The Sound of Paper

.:.

"If I found myself and my thoughts interesting, what might I try?"

I might try penning the framework for creative living that's been surfacing over and over in my journal for the past seven years, for creating a life of intention and choice and alignment and joy.

I might try sharing the digital artwork and photography I've been producing this winter in fits of blissful creative flow.

© 2018 Stephanie Guimond, Oranges, iPhoneography

I might try exploring the merits of creativity and other intangibles in the workplace, particularly in the field of productivity and project management. I might even try sharing my findings.

I might try writing about my art, especially the pieces produced intuitively, the ones I cannot really explain.

.:.

If you found yourself and your thoughts interesting, what might YOU try?

Tell me.

A Vision Board, a Recurring Desire and a Call to Universe

I've been feeling in limbo lately, floating aimlessly in a land without dreams or desires.

For weeks now I've been asking the Universe for guidance and during the past few days the notion of a vision board kept coming up in my journal. Last night, with the hopes of gaining clarity, I decided to create one. What did I have to lose but a few hours of my time?

A snippet of my board. That girl in the middle was the first image to go on, followed by the words "Rest Within Yourself."

(NOTE: If you're not familiar with vision boards, this article by Christine Kane includes a pretty good primer on how to create one.)

Creating the board

I gathered a stack of magazines, scissors and foraged my supply drawer for a glue stick. I approached it with a sense of play, choosing to go lightly and let my intuition be my guide. I set a pretty loose and open intention of "recovering dreams and desires", not wanting to be too specific at this point. Then, without too much thought I flipped through magazines, cut out images and words that spoke to me and glued them into position on an 18"x12" mat board.

At times I caught myself judging my choices. When this happened I halted and quickly switched my attention to the lower portion of my body and the floor on which I was sitting. This helped me "get out of my head" and into the moment, which is where intuition makes itself heard.

A small corner of Vision Board August 2017.

A few of the images I cannot explain, but the pull to include them was strong so there they are. I shall live with the mystery.

I thoroughly enjoyed the exercise. 

Vision boarding combines stillness (connection to intuition) and possibility (images and words that speak to desires) which, in my opinion, combined with action can lead to wonderful things.

At this point in my journey action would be premature since I have no sense of direction. Last night's intuitive play was a perfect place to start.

Discovering a recurring desire

Vision board 2012. See the previous image for the August 2017 studio repeat.

When I took in the images and words I collaged last night I noticed a recurring theme that was included on a vision board created five years ago, in August 2012: a studio.

When journalling about it this morning I realized that I'd expressed that dream in writing about 10-15 years ago too, specifying my desire to someday build a studio made of straw bales, a.k.a. Strawbale Studio. This was before I started painting.

About five years ago I dreamt - as in, during my sleep - of a gallery space in a large open barn with walls painted white and sunlight streaming in through windows placed high above paintings. In one section of the barn there were dioramas on the floor depicting nature and country life, through which I meandered. It was a peaceful place and the image is still very clear in my head.

Apparently this desire for an art studio runs deep.

A call to Universe

I don't know what this studio might look like or if it even will come into being, but again I've nothing to lose here so I am putting a call out to the Universe to guide me on this one.

The last time I put a call out to the Universe on my blog was in 2008. I asked for creative community and was led to Squam Art Workshops, which completely changed my life.

I thought I might try it again.

With no expectations related to outcome, I remain open to direction.

Here's to discovery. Here's to the journey. Here's to the unfolding mystery.

Peace out.