The Lavender Gate

The Creative Call: Beginnings

2012-02-25T19:50:00.005-08:00

I’ve been journaling my fingers off since last Wednesday in response to the first chapter of The Creative Call. There’s a lot of stuff already emerging having to do with blockages, annoying people, and inner critics – the same stuff that always seems to come up when I do a program like this. The difference, though, is that through it all the voice of the author comes through time and time again in this chapter: You are a creative person because God made you that way. And He made you that way so you can be a part of His continuing creation of the world.

One of the exercises in chapter one was to write my own definition of "artist" by completing this statement “I think an artist is….”

Here is my definition: I think an artist is a conduit of God’s grace through whom God exercises his role as Creator. God does not need us in order for Him to be the Creator, but He desires to share that role with us and the blessings that come from it.

Creative people are compelled to make art, make music, write, act, cook, garden, build furniture, design websites, fix computers, et cetera because they are wired to do so. Since we were crafted that way, then it is obvious that to not develop our talents and exercise them is, at best, not living up to our potential, and at worst – to use “churchy” vocabulary – living outside the will of God.

So this chapter offers an amazing affirmation to all creatives. With this, you would think we could just close the book and get on with our work.

No.

The chapter goes on to ask pointed questions about the obstacles to creativity. For me, namely, it’s other people and my own self. Okay, it’s mostly my own self, but I can go on and on about both me and them.

The author, however, is quick to point out that even though the Critics in our lives may be a hindrance, we will learn in future chapters how to stop blaming them and begin forgiving.

Forgiveness? Oy! I think I need to buy a lot more paper to journal on.

This first chapter opened with some verses from the Gospel of John: In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through Him all things were made. Without Him nothing was made that has been made (John 1:1-3). This seems an appropriate verse in a discussion about the creative action of God and artists, so in response to this passage, I felt compelled to make this image:

"John One:One-Three" (Digital Painting)

A Practice for Lent: The Creative Call

2012-02-22T12:27:00.000-08:00

Today is the first day of Lent. I was casting about for something to do (or not to do) appropriate for the season. Since this period is supposed to be a time for self-reflection, I decided I would wed this season with my working through The Creative Call program.

The Creative Call: An Artist's Response to the Way of the Spirit is a book written by Joyce Elsheimer as an alternative to Cameron's The Artist's Way (TAW). TAW is a fantastic program, and I have employed it on several occassions to break through creative blocks and get my creating self moving again. However, the "source" or "higher self" referenced in TAW is ambiguous at best. The Creative Call is for those artists, writers, muscians, and other creatives who have a more focused view of that divine source for the creativity -- that is, God.

The Creative Call (CC) is less rigorous than TAW calling for a commitment of only eight weeks as well as only 20 minutes of journaling each morning. In addition, CC emphasizes prayer and scripture reading/memorization as part of the program of breaking through the hindrances to creative output. CC's main assertion, at least for me, is that God gives us our talents and urges us to develop and exercise them for His glory and our personal fulfillment in life. Given this, I thought working this program might be the perfect activity for Lent. The program most likely will flow past Easter, but somehow that seems right too.

My plan then is to read one chapter a week, do the prescribed exercises, and journal every day. At least once a week -- maybe more, maybe less -- I will write a short reflection piece here.

So, if you don't like hearing about God or Jesus, or are uncomfortable with scriptural quotations, then I understand completely if you don't want to follow along with these posts. However, part of my "recovery" as a creative person is not to hide from what I am and what I believe, and I will be writing about these things. I do hope you will come back and read and maybe even follow along.

Thank you.

The Gate Keeper, Ash Wednesday, 2012

ljgloyd

An Artist's Alchemy

2012-02-09T06:07:00.000-08:00

This story was inspired by and has excerpted from the article Anatomy of Creativity at the Soul Food Cafe
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“This place is freezing,” Kendalyn muttered to herself. She pulled off her wet rain jacket and scarf as she marched across the living room of her small apartment.

“How could I have left this open?” A frigid wind blasted through the bottom of the window in her dining area. She quickly shut it and then fiddled with the thermostat next to her wall furnace. As the furnace kicked on, she grabbed a green flannel blanket draped over the back of her sofa. Wrapping it around herself, she yanked the first headpiece at hand from the wall hook next to the door-- a big floppy sun hat. She knew she looked ridiculous, but the blanket and hat would keep her warm until the apartment heated up.

She considered going to the Bellowing Cow Saloon, just down the block from her building. The manager usually had a fire going, but the thought of spending an evening with the miscreants and malcontents that hung out there just turned her stomach.

Kendalyn had started going to the pub a few months ago when she discovered that it was a place where a number of local artists gathered. She just wanted to be with some like-minded creatives to “talk shop” and generally have a good time. It was good at first, but over the months she found herself spending more and more time there instead of working in her studio. Even worse, the interactions with the artists had devolved from professional talk to nasty gossip and strife.

The kicker came just a few days ago when a business disagreement arose between one of the artists and the owners of the Scarlet Shrike gallery. A lot of foul language and accusations had been exchanged between them, and many of the other artists, including Kendalyn, were set upon as well for just being present and voicing an opinion on the behavior of the individuals.

Stung by the assault on her personal reputation by the individuals involved, Kendalyn left the Bellowing Cow that night and swore she would never set foot in there again. She would rather freeze in her apartment than go anywhere near that pub.

Just thinking about the last horrible encounter there made her queasy. She should have known better and not tried to be the voice of reason. She padded into the kitchen to get something to settle her stomach. As she poured some ginger ale into a glass, she heard a soft thud from her studio which was adjacent to the kitchen. She peered through the doorway of the studio and froze in alarm. The studio window was opened about six inches at the bottom, just like the window in the dining room.

Kendalyn knew she had shut and locked that window before she left for work that morning. Her eyes darted around the room looking for an intruder. There was no place anyone could hide in the cramped, small room and the closet was too full of boxes of art supplies to conceal a person.

Then her eyes settled on her work table. “What--?”

Situated in the center of the table among her brushes and tubes of paint was a small wooden box. She cautiously approached the table to get a better look. Then she saw the intricate carving on the lid of the box: a familiar crest of leaves and curlicues entwined around the letters, “S.R.”.

Kendalyn relaxed and smiled. S.R.: Sibyl Riversleigh. Artist, writer, global traveler, and Kendalyn’s friend. There was no point in wondering how the box came to be on her studio table. That was Sibyl’s way and Sibyl was, well, magical.

Kendalyn lifted the box’s lid. In it was an envelope inscribed with “Kendalyn J. Pelican” in Sibyl’s flourished handwriting. Underneath the envelope was a silver rectangular case nestled in the red velvet lining of the wooden box. Kendalyn slipped open the flap of the envelope and pulled out a letter.

“Kenda, darling,

Aren’t you the mess! What has happened to you, dear? You are not the woman I used to know. I think you need a little transforming and I have just the thing for you. I was in Venice this summer -- oh, you wouldn’t believe what happened to me there -- but that story is for another day -- Anyhow, I was in an antique shop near the Ponte di Rialto and found a book which I was told had belonged to an alchemist. There were oodles of formulae in it, but this one just stood out -- just for you, I knew. I want you to take these words to heart:

‘Carefully mix 300 pounds of daily writing; pray to the creative spirit under the moon; purify your house with the right amount of sage; add twenty five ounces of the divine; spend hours in silence; stir in a pinch of imagination; meditate upon a mandala; daydream a lot.’

Now open the silver case.

Hug, hug, kiss, kiss, and get off your arse, dear.

Love,

Sibyl

Kendalyn sat down at the table and read the letter again. Sybil had always been there with good advice. Kendalyn reflected on the last few months. It was more than just hanging out with the wrong crowd and not working. It was neglecting the inner world that fueled her work.

Kendalyn set aside the letter and opened the silver case. It was a mirror. Just an ordinary make-up kit compact mirror. She placed the open case on the table and sat back to consider it. Nothing happened. It was just her, wrapped in a blanket and wearing a goofy hat, looking back from the mirror. She began fingering one of the paint brushes on the table as she pondered the alchemist formula.

It was like a recipe, or a spell. No, it was more like a ritual or a liturgy. She realized then that whatever art she created lately, or words she wrote, were not coming from that sacred space within. They were mundane, or worse: mechanical and dull. There was no magic in her creations.

Kendalyn closed her eyes and looked inward for the muse that used to live there. Was the duende spirit still there? Or had she been totally abandoned.

“Um... hello? Are you there? Look, I know it’s been a while and I know I totally screwed up by not talking to you lately, but I’m wondering if you and I.... what I’m trying to say is that I need your help. I need to move back to that place... you know the place I’m talking about, right? That place where you and I click and really cool stuff happens. Well, anyway, I’m here if you want to talk to me.”

Kendalyn sat for a moment, waiting for... well, anything. Just as she was beginning to feel very silly about having a conversation with thin air, she heard a tinkling sound, like a strum of chimes. Her eyes flew open and she saw herself in the mirror with a trail of glittering stars swirling about her.

She smiled. Everything had suddenly changed.

Art Journal: Weekend Spread, Do Not Fear Success

2012-01-21T06:32:00.000-08:00

This weekend's spread is all ready to receive writing which I think will be white gelly roll on the left side. I don't want to put in any writing on the right, but I'll have to see how much room I need.

The first layer of the background was gesso over blue watercolor crayon followed by several layers of green and blue tissue, art papers, and a computer printout of the female figure. The image is embellished by glitter glue. (I don't fling glitter, I squirt it! :)

Creating the image was a project in itself. I found a vintage image of Mata Hari. I am not particularly interested in Mata Hari herself, but the image presented to me all sorts of possibilities in terms of manipulation and embellishment. It took about an hour to colorize the whole image in Photoshop, resulting in about a dozen layers to achieve the final effect.

So what is this spread about? A couple of weeks ago during a meditation time, the words "Do not fear success" popped into my mind. It was an interesting insight that made me consider that my lack of progress in certain areas of my life may not have anything to do with a fear of failure, but rather from a fear of being successful. This insight is something that I am going to have to give some considered thought.

I debated with myself as to whether I should rephrase the title of the spread into a positive affirmation such as "Welcome Success". But since those were not the words that came to me, I stuck with the original statement.

ljgloyd (c) 2012

Art Journal: Weekly Spread January 16 Onward

2012-01-16T05:56:00.001-08:00

Here is my spread all ready for my multi-day journaling for this week. Nothing fancy: just gesso over watercolor crayons, then stampings, followed by a drawing. I will handwrite my entries in black Pitt pen.

ljgloyd (c) 2012

Mosiac Spread: It's All About the Journey

2012-01-14T13:36:00.000-08:00

This is my full weekend spread for January 14 and 15 (awaiting text for the 15th). It employs the mosiac and "hidden" tab prompts from earlier this week. I created the background by laying down some white gesso, fushia acrylic paint and black gesso. The mosiac tiles are cut from a paper I made of light wash of the fushia paint rubbed over by a thin layer of copper metallic acrylic paint. The labyrinth is a computer print out. I embellished with glitter glue. At first I was hesitant about using too much glitter but then I thought "You can never use too much glitter!" Woo-hoo.

ljgloyd (c) 2012

Art Journal: First Week

2012-01-11T09:55:00.000-08:00

Here is the front cover of the journal:

The journal itself is a 9 by 12 soft-bound sketchbook. I painted over the cover in cerulean blue, green and copper metallic acrylic paint. I pasted a photo that was taken in a low-light setting by a friend. The friend who took the picture was going to delete it since it was so blurry, but I just loved the effect and knew it would someday show up in a piece of art. Here it is. Finally, the text is stamping on a piece of blue tissue paper.

This image was created for my January 8 journal entry (January 7 also had a similar image). I just didn't know what to make as a focal point image so I just traced my hand and started doodling in it. I painted black gesso around it for contrast and wrote the text with a Sakura white gelly roll pen. A number of people in the Book of Days group have commented that they too have used the motif of the hand in this week's journaling. How synchronicitous is that?

I am working on my multi-day spread for this week. I want to incorporate a mosiac effect into what I have already started, but that may not work so well and I'll have to use the mosiac effect on my weekend spread.

What I find interesting about this project is that I have had the discipline to do it every day thus far, even if it is only a word or two. We'll see how long that lasts.

More to come.

ljgloyd (c) 2012

Pantry Improv: Huevos Rancheros

2012-01-11T08:41:00.000-08:00

My huevos rancheros recipe is not really an improvisation, rather my interpretation of a classic, soul-soothing breakfast dish. My guess is that someone originally improvised this from food on hand in the pantry.

From the pantry:
vegetable oil
corn torilla
canned refried beans
salsa (or you can make fresh if you like)

From the fridge:
eggs
queso fresco or some other soft white cheese

Completely cover the bottom of a large skillet with the vegetable oil. Heat the oil until it starts to shimmer. Lay a corn tortilla in the oil for about two minutes or until it starts to get crispy. Carefully flip the tortilla and crisp the other side. Remove from the oil and drain on a paper towel. Fry one tortilla for every serving.

Spread a couple of tablespoons of refried beans on the tortilla.

In another skillet, fry an egg in a bit of oil, either sunnyside up or over easy. Scrambling doesn't work so well because you want a runny yolk in the finished dish. Place the fried egg on top of the beans and tortilla.

Spoon a bit of salsa and sprinkle a little cheese on top of all.

This breakfast dish is wonderful for lunch and dinner as well.

Click HERE to read about my personal pantry improv project.

ljgloyd (c) 2012

Watching Bread Rise: A Metaphor for Growth

2012-01-06T10:45:00.000-08:00

This week I made bread from scratch. I'm a bit of a foody, if you haven't already figured that out, so the process of watching the bio-chemical replication of yeast is something that fascinates me. Yes, I know, I need to get a life, and that is indeed what I hope to do this year.

Bread-making is an appropriate picture of life growth. Yeast is a living creature -- Saccharomyces cerevisiae -- a one-celled critter that procreates like crazy if you give it enough sugar and warm water. When you combine these happy little yeastie-beasties with flour, salt, a lot of time and a little heat, you get bread.

I have an idea for a long-term life project. I have been tossing the idea around in my mind for several months, and now I want to nurture it with the hope it will rise like bread dough. The idea is the flour, the yeast is the planning, and the sugar and warm water is the research. Hopefully, the planning and research will make that idea rise up into reality. I don't expect achieving my goal will be easy. I expect a little heat along the way, but you need some heat to bake good bread.

I'm sorry to be so vague on the specifics of the project. I'm still in the planning stages, and, if you have ever made bread, you know that if conditions are not right, the bread dough won't rise. So I'm not going to say any more about it now in case things fall flat.

But to leave you with a little more than my ramblings, here is the recipe I used to make the gorgeous loaf of bread in the picture above:

Thoroughly mix together in a large crockery bowl:

1 1/2 cups whole wheat flour
1 1/2 cups all purpose white flour
1 teaspoon salt

In a separate bowl, combine:

1 package of dry active yeast
2 tablespoons of sugar
1 cup plus 2 tablespoons of warm water

About 10 minutes later, when the yeast is frothing on top of the water, add the liquid to the dry ingredients and thoroughly mix. Put a little flour on a bread board and dump out the dough on it. Vigorously knead the bread for about 5 minutes. (Great therapy). Return the dough to the crockery bowl and cover with a clean kitchen cloth. Put it someplace warm and leave it for about 3 hours.

After the dough has risen (it should double or even triple in size) add some more flour to the board, dump out the dough, and knead for another 5 minutes. Shape the dough into a ball and place it in a large cast iron skillet. Cover and let it rise for another hour. About 15 minutes before you plan to bake the bread, preheat the oven to 375 F. (about 220C). Uncover the skillet, put it in the oven and bake for about 25 minutes (or until the top is golden brown).

Prepare to swoon from the aroma.

Happy New Year

2012-01-01T07:39:00.000-08:00

A few days ago a friend and I visited our regional art museum. The museum has a significant collection of art pieces from southern India, and my friend and I came across a docent talk about this particular statue. It is entitled the Lord of the Dance.

We learned from the docent that according to the mythology of the region, this deity dances the world to destruction in order to dance it into creation.

A dance into creation: what an appropriate metaphor for celebrating the New Year, I thought.

May I wish you all a spritely dance into 2012. May the new year be filled with new creations and opportunities for all of you.

ljgloyd (c) 2012

The Pantry Improv Project

2011-12-28T12:34:00.000-08:00

This week I had to say goodbye to a good friend who is moving far away. As she packed up her household, she gave me the majority of the contents of her dry food pantry. This cache of food items, coupled with my own pantry, means that I do not need to do much grocery shopping for several months at least. Not only is this going to save me a lot of money, but it has also presented an opportunity for some highly creative kitchen fun.

I am going to try to use up all the items currently on the shelves and limit grocery shopping to only those essential pantry items used up and fresh food (produce, meat, dairy, etc.) In doing so, I want to see how many improvised dishes I can create. I will not go out and buy something new until I have used up the majority of items in the pantry. For example, I have nine cans of beans of several varieties. I will buy no more beans until these are used up. Similarly, if a recipe calls for an item not in the pantry, let's say water chestnuts, I will either adjust the recipe or make something else; I will not go out and buy a can of water chestnuts.

The successful pantry improvisations I'll share here.

For example, last night I pulled from the dry pantry whole wheat penne pasta, sun-dried tomatoes, tomato paste, chicken broth, white wine, Italian herb seasoning, garlic powder, black pepper, red pepper, and olive oil.

From the refrigerator, I selected kale, onions, poached chicken breast and parmesan cheese.

While cooking the penne pasta, in another pan, I quickly stir-fried in the olive oil the chopped kale, onion, and dried tomatoes until tender. Then I added a splash of chicken broth and white wine, the tomato paste, pinches of black pepper, herbs, garlic powder, and red pepper flakes and the diced chicken. When all of this was heated through, I added the cooked penne and topped it with parmesan cheese. I did not measure amounts. I eyeballed everything and resulted in about two fair-sized servings.

We'll see how far I get with this project. Hopefully, I'll end up saving money as well as developing a collection of recipes that I can use again.

In the meantime, can anyone tell me what I can do with a jar of powdered buttermilk and a can of sardines?

In the Studio: Creating a Mixed Media Painting

2011-12-23T06:31:00.000-08:00

My thanks to those of you who gave me mostly good feedback on my post of a couple of days ago. The point I was trying to get across is that persevering in achieving a goal is as important, if not more so, than one's psychological frame of mind.

Yesterday, I was fooling around with a visual interpretation of this concept. I decided to document the process of creating the painting in this video. Thank you again for your support.

ljgloyd (c) 2011

I've Never Done Anything Worthwhile in My Whole Life Ever: Thoughts on Positive Affirmations

2011-12-21T07:37:00.000-08:00

Last week I was in one of those blue moods that everyone gets now and again where I was reassessing my life and trying to see what, if anything, I had accomplished. I came back to a conclusion that I have articulated many times in the past: "I've never done anything worthwhile in my whole life ever." Yes, I admit that this is a bit over the top. My friend Madame T, a writer in Alabama, laughed at me when I said this to her a while back -- not because it is true, but because, as she said, I was being overly melodramatic. She was right and I have to admit that saying this to myself is not a positive affirmation and certainly could lead me to a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Still, though, I caught myself saying this to myself again last week, but this time I decided I would try out a little positive affirmation exercise that I had learned in a mind/body wellness course I took last year. I try to have a "quiet time" of meditation and prayer each morning and last Friday morning I added to my meditation a repetition of the words: "I am a winner. I accomplish every goal I set for myself". I repeated this to myself a number of times until I started to feel a little silly about it. I am not sure if that is because the act of repeating a "mantra" is alien to me or if, deep down, I had trouble accepting the concept that I might actually be successful in achieving a goal.

This particular day I went over to a relative's house to paint a backyard fence that had recently been built. We quickly got started and as I painted I felt myself enjoying the work. It was a beautiful sunny morning. The birds were singing. I was helping someone. All was good.

The painting progressed without hitch...until about two hours into the job and about three feet of fence short of finishing, when I stepped on one of the masonite boards we had been using in place of a drop cloth to protect the concrete in front of the fence. It was like I stepped onto an icy patch of pavement.

I could see myself going down as if in slow motion: my right knee twisting on the masonite board, my left hand outstretching to brace for the fall, the skin on my right elbow peeling off as it scrapped down the raw wood of the fence, and finally my ample backside hitting the ground with a resounding PLOP. I sat there for a moment, simultaneously feeling the pain in various parts of my body, thanking God that I did not hit my head on the concrete or the fence, and suddenly realizing that I, "the winner", had embarrassed myself in front of the entire neighborhood and everyone driving past.

As I hauled my body and bruised ego off the ground, my relative said "I'll finish painting. You go in the house."

"No," I said. "I can finish this." I proceeded to paint the last few feet of fence. I had to use my non-dominant right hand because the pain in my left hand was so bad that I could not hold the brush. My thought at that moment was that if I can finish the job, then I'm not really hurt all that much. It was less of an act of pride and more of an act of denial.

After we finished and cleaned up, I went right home and proceeded to soak myself in a hot epsom salt bath. I assessed my wounds and concluded that it could have been a whole lot worse. My hand was moving again and my scraps were superficial. My knee pained me but I could walk which was all that mattered. My pride, though, was quite wounded, and I felt the irony of my positive affirmation of that morning literally colliding with the reality of a hard patch of ground.

But then it occurred to me: I had finished the job. I had done what I had affirmed that morning: "I accomplish every goal I set for myself." I know it is a cliche' that we when we fall, literally or figuratively, we should "get right up, dust yourself off, and start all over again." These concepts become cliched because they are true.

Just as it took a long and subtle time for me to latch on to the "I'll never do anything worthwhile" idea, so the positive affirmation that I will be successful in all I do may take equally as long. I have to admit that it may take a lot of "stick-to-it-ness" to achieve it.

So, if I have one word to say myself, and to all of you, it is this:

PERSEVERE.

Merry Christmas, Happy Chanukah, a Blessed Solstice, and Happy New Year to you all.

ljgloyd (c) 2011

...make every effort to add to your faith goodness; and to goodness, knowledge; and to knowledge, self-control; and to self-control, perseverance; and to perseverance, godliness... II Peter 1:5-6.

Sometimes You've Got to Let Loose

2011-12-12T05:41:00.000-08:00

This weekend I stopped at a store on the way to an appointment. In the parking lot of the store, there was a group gathered. I'm not sure of the nature of the gathering, but it appeared that everyone was having a lot of fun and that the event was open to anyone who wanted to participate. I did not have the time so I just shot this quick video and went on my way. In retrospect, I realize how busy and overcommitted I've been for the last few weeks. I could have been a few minutes late to my appointment. I really should have stopped and participated. It would have been good for me.

Sometimes you've just gotta let loose:

If I said "Yes"......

2011-12-02T09:24:00.000-08:00

"The Botanical Shop"

Montage of vintage and found photographs

This is a response to an art journaling prompt which asked what we would say "yes" to if given the opportunity. In this imaginary life (with unlimited resources and time), I would say yes to being educated as a master herbalist or a naturopathic or TCM doctor. OR I might say yes to starting my own business as a manufacturer and purveyor of hand-crafted botanical skin care products.

Hey, it's a fantasy, okay?

Anyway, this image may end up being the study from which I render a painting. We'll see... since I do not in fact have unlimited resources or time for art-making.....or anything else.

That Reflection in the Mirror

2011-11-30T12:01:00.000-08:00

This morning while on the way to work I stopped at a diner for a quick bite of breakfast and a cup of tea. When the cashier handed back my change I noticed that it was more than the amount I usually get back, so I mentioned it to her. She smiled and replied, "It's okay." Noticing my confusion, she printed out a receipt and pointed to the "Senior discount" she had given me. (I appreciate her tact in not saying this aloud for everyone in line to hear.)

Let me assure you that I am nowhere near the standard recognized senior citizen age. Furthermore, this is not the first time that I have received unexpected senior discounts. However, all the other times I have received discounts I laughed it off and pegged it on the fact that the various clerks were teenagers and probably thought anyone over 30 was a senior. This morning, though, the cashier was closer to my age and for some reason her miscalculation bothered me.

Am I really old?

When I seated myself, I pulled out my compact mirror and gave myself a look. Yes, my hair is turning silver. I had stopped coloring my hair because of the expense and the maintenance. Yet, I started to wonder if maybe I should begin again to do that. Also, I had to concede that lately I don't move as fast or as far as I used to and that I often wake up with aches and pains that I did not have only a couple of years ago. Furthermore, lately I have started thinking more about retirement and if I am going to have enough money to live. Did I plan well enough all these years? My fear is that I will need to work until I'm 108 in order to survive -- provided that an old bat like me doesn't get laid off and not be able to find another job.

Yikes! No wonder people think I am old. I had the sudden revelation that I look old because I am acting and thinking I am old. This is an obvious and clichéd conclusion, I know, but it is a conclusion that everyone must come to on their own at some point. I just had my "aha" moment over a breakfast burrito this morning.

So, what am I going to do to break out of this thought pattern?

It is not news that the experts have said that to stave off the consequences of old age, one needs to engage in new and different activities. Since my habit has always been to explore new activities, I am already in a good place in that regard. (For example, I took up bellydancing when I turned 40). I just need to not talk myself out of trying new and different activities "because I'm too old."

Secondly, I need to stop focusing on all my aches and pains. I need to stop focusing on myself, period. I need to get out there and focus on others.

Next, when I start worrying about the future, I need to remind myself that Providence has never let me down in the past -- why should it now? Faith is a powerful weapon and the older I become, the more adept I become at wielding it.

In addition, I have to stop worrying that I might not have made the right decisions in the past regarding my future. What good will worrying do now? I am reminded of a line from the movie Under the Tuscan Sun where Katherine tells Frances that "regrets are a waste of time. They're the past crippling you in the present."

Finally, and probably most importantly, I have to get out of the insidious thought pattern that to be old is to be decrepit, useless, and sad. Good grief, no! I declare right now, on this day, that I will not be any of those things. I will be functional, generous, wise, faith-filled, and joyful. I think I will start right now by getting a tee-shirt that says, "I'm Embracing My Inner Crone and She's Ready for a Good Time."

When I really do get to senior citizen status, I will be one rockin' old broad. Wanna join me? I promise it will be a blast.

Image: Morguefile . com

Artist's Walk

2011-11-23T14:04:00.000-08:00

In Walking in This World, Julia Cameron's sequel to The Artist's Way, the author adds one more tool to the blocked creatives kit: the weekly artist's walk. It is simply that -- go out and walk until ideas begin to flow.

This morning I went walking just before dawn and took my camera with me. I decided to walk no more than a six block radius from my home and take pictures of whatever caught my creative imagination. I looked primarily for interesting compositions, textures, colors, contrasts, lighting and reflections. I took about thirty shots. Here are a few of the more interesting ones, in my opinion. These were taken all within thirty minutes and are presented in the order I took them.

"Raven in a Store Window"

"The Barber Shop"

"Water Tower"

"Cracking Unit at the Refinery"

"The Fire Escape"

"Red Door and Cactus"

"Craftsman Home"

"Lemon Tree in the Alley"

Here's a prompt for you. Do your own Artist's Walk, with camera or without, and share your creation with an audience.

ljgloyd (c) 2011

Why I Will Never Go on a Ghost Hunt

2011-11-22T12:11:00.000-08:00

I confess: Sometimes I watch paranormal shows on tv. Mostly, I watch the shows with goofy ghost investigators because they are such amusing characters, their shows are truly entertaining, and that most likely what we see is not really what is true.

In spite of my skepticism regarding these shows, I want to go on record to say that I do believe in paranormal phenomena, and because of this, I will never participate in a real paranormal investigation.

Before I explain this statement, let me share my thoughts about how I perceive most paranormal phenomena. First, I think that most phenomena that are deemed "paranormal" can be debunked. I think most sounds and sightings investigators experience are the result of misinterpreted natural phenomena. The next time Grant says "Did you hear that? What the frig with that?", I wish Jason would say "Dude, that was the bean burrito I had for lunch." Physical phenomenon with a logical explanation, for sure.

Second, I think that there are some phenomena that have natural explanations that we just can't explain YET. For example, when the ghost-guys on tv speak about "residual haunts", I wonder if there is some truth to the theory that physical substances like stone and wood can absorb and play back the energy from strong emotional events. Also, I suspect that there is some truth to assertion that high electro-magnetic fields affect sensitive people. What sensitives perceive as paranormal is really a psycho-physiological reaction to physical energy. Finally, I have my own theory that the timestream might bend and fold in such a way that what some people perceive as ghosts are really backward looks at actual events seen through these folds in time. I wonder what a quantum physicist would have to say about this. Maybe there might be research in this area someday. In the meantime, I truly appreciate legitimate investigators who use empirical scientific methods to gather and analyze data on such phenomena and are looking for natural explanations.

All this being said, I believe there is some phenomena that cannot be debunked or scientifically explained. I believe there is something out there that constitutes true spiritual hauntings of places and people.

However, I don't believe that those entities doing the haunting are the spirits of departed humans who just want to come back and visit their earthly homes and loved ones. To me it is not logical that any respectable specters are going to want to be anywhere but partying up there behind the Pearly Gates. I base this on my faith tradition that states "to be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord" and that those who have had a taste of the good-life in the after-life are not going to be flitting around down here in this mucky, nasty old world. Therefore, if those folks are up in heaven, what does that leave skulking around down here in those haunted houses? Nothing that I want to be dealing with!

I get really nervous when I watch the tv ghost busters do "EVP" (electronic voice phenomena) sessions. I know they want to stir up entities in order to capture digital recordings of "voices", but I wonder if they realize how dangerous these entities might be? I believe spirits can attach themselves to willing humans and follow them home. Who wants this? I sure don't. I can't be certain about all religious traditions, but I know that the big three monotheistic ones urge their followers not to speak to spirits. Stirring up spirits is deemed so dangerous to the entire community that severe punishments are reserved for those who do. Personally, I think thousands of years of wisdom on this matter are not something to ignore.

I mean no disrespect to any person’s belief system. All I can tell you is what I believe and why. I stated earlier that I watch paranormal reality shows on tv. In reflecting on what I have just written here, now I wonder if even that is not such a good idea.

Glycerin Jewel

2011-11-18T23:28:00.001-08:00

As I mentioned a couple of posts ago, I took an aromatherapy class last weekend where we learned to cast glycerin soaps. Here is one of the results from my first batch. This one is clear gylcerin with jojoba oil and scented with my personally mixed "Autumn Blend" -- sweet orange, cinnamon leaf, and clove essential oils.

Also in this batch, I made lavender mint oatmeal bars. These are white glycerin soaps spiked with ground oatmeal and jojoba oil and studded with dried lavender flowers and scented with peppermint and benzoin.

I turned my kitchen into a laboratory and the whole place smells DIVINE.

ljgloyd (c) 2011

Some Brief Comments on Naturopathy and Alternative Medicine

2011-11-17T15:26:00.000-08:00

This last weekend I was at a social gathering and was chatting with some close acquaintances. As is often the case when a group like this gets together, we began to talk about personal concerns. One of the women in the group began to tell us of her various medical situations. Her major complaint was having to take so many medicines and their possible long-term effects.

This led us into a discussion of the use and effectiveness of diet and supplements to treat chronic conditions instead of, or along side of, conventional medication. During the course of our conversation, I found myself strongly advocating natural alternative methods for dealing with health issues, based on the information that was given to me by my own primary care practitioner (a conventional medical practitioner). I beat the drum so loudly that the next day I had friends e-mailing me to ask where I get my supplements.

A couple of days later I was thinking about this conversation and I had one of those "if I knew then what I know now" moments. In retrospect, I think I would have made a pretty good naturopathic practitioner, at least in terms of enthusiasm for the specialty. If I had this insight, say, twenty years ago, maybe I would have studied for this and the path of my life would have gone in a different direction.

At this point in my life, I do not have the financial means or the time to retool for a different career, but this has not stopped me from investigating the field. As a good consumer, I should at least educate myself on what I advocate for myself and others.

First, what is a naturopathy? According to A Consumer's Guide to Naturopathic Medicine published by The State of California Department of Consumer Affairs "naturopathic medicine is a distinct and comprehensive system of primary health care that uses natural methods and substances to support and stimulate the body’s self-healing process." Specifically, it is
using "the body's inherent wisdom to heal itself" by way of herbal and homeopathic medicine, diet and nutrition, vitamins and other supplements, massage, physical therapy, behavioral therapy and lifestyle management. It considers the whole person -- body, emotions, spirituality, environment, genetics and many other factors. In short, naturopathy is a preventative, non-evasive approach to wellness and good health.

That being said, one should not practice naturopathy on oneself anymore than one would practice conventional "allopathic" medicine on oneself. ALWAYS, consult with a licensed health practitioner before embarking on "alternative" routes to health. In the conversation with my friends, I emphasized the importance of employing both conventional and alternative medicine. In fact, I said "if you ever find me having a heart attack, take me to the HOSPITAL, not my herbalist!"

We also discussed that herbs are powerful substances and often do not interact well with conventional drugs. A conventional health practitioner most likely will not ask if you are taking any herbs or supplements before prescribing a drug, so you need to tell him or her. On the other hand, a good naturopath will want to know what medications you are taking. I am pleased to say that my herbalist asks his patients what drugs they have been prescribed and adapts his herbal prescription accordingly. There are many online drug/herb interaction databases. One that is particularly useful is The University of Maryland's Alternative Medicine Index.

When doing some initial research on what it takes to become a naturopathic doctor, I was shocked to find out that only sixteen states and five provinces in North America have licensing requirements for naturopathic doctors. This tells me that there are a lot of quacks out there practicing in areas that do not have such licensing requirements. For example, yesterday, I listened to a podcast by a "traditional" naturopath who declared that the field had been taken over by naturopathic schools which, in his opinion, had deviated from true naturopathy. He cited a couple of schools which he said were the best in the country. Upon my investigation, I found that both schools cited in the podcast were unaccredited distance-learning programs and one of them had been closed down since the podcast first recorded. I will think twice about listening to anymore podcasts by this individual.

On the other hand, California, for example, will only grant licenses to naturopathic doctors who have graduated from one of only seven schools in North America. These schools are accredited by Council of Naturopathic Medical Education and each requires students to undergo rigorous and lengthy training. I recommend that if you are selecting a naturopathic doctor that you find out where she or he trained and verify the license with your state or regional licensing board.

My point in commenting here is this: we all need to be responsible for our own wellness, and this means we need to do our homework when it comes to receiving both conventional and alternative medical care.

ljgloyd © 2011
Image from Morguefile.com

Group Dynamics and the Art of Making Soap

2011-11-15T10:33:00.000-08:00

I watched two young women standing, heads bent, over a steaming pot. One woman slowly stirred the bubbling liquid with a spoon while the other carefully dropped an ever-so-tiny amount of oil into it. No, I was not at the movies watching the latest release of a Harry Potter film. I was at a local herb and essential oil shop taking part in a soap and bath-salt making workshop. I had received an announcement of the class the day before and on a whim I decided to take it.

When I arrived, the shopkeeper and the teacher were rushing around setting up the work area. The teacher had been delayed and had only just arrived minutes before the start of the class. The teacher, a spritely woman dressed in patch-work yoga pants and tee shirt and wearing long peacock feather earrings, was struggling to plug in several hotplates. When she saw me, she picked up two saucepans, thrust them at me, and said in a thick German accent, “Go fill these with water -- not too much.”

“Uh, sure.” I set down my purse and headed to the restroom with the pans. When I came back with the water, I saw that she had pressed two other women into service. One held a long butcher knife and was dicing up a large brick of glycerin soap, while the other was arranging some small containers on the table. The instructor took the pans of water from me and said “Good, now start opening up the other bricks of soap.” Before long the other students and I were chatting and joking and in short time the work area was ready.

This spirit of cooperation spilled over to the class. Rather than lecturing and demonstrating alone, the instructor had us all working together as she explained the process. I was put in charge of managing the hotplates, making sure that nothing boiled over. While we worked, the teacher regaled us with funny stories. (Did you know that deodorant made of sandlewood oil has aphrodisiac properties?)

As I looked around at us, I was struck by how a group of women, all of us strangers, could suddenly find ourselves working together so well. I have found that this often happens when women come together. I have seen this with a study group I belong to, with women at my church, and with a book group I attend.

I have seen the flip-side too. I have seen women savagely tear each other apart in small groups, threatening the work they came together to accomplish. I have seen large movements fail because they could not overcome internal dysfunctions.

There are three components necessary for a group of women (and men too) to work in productive harmony.

First, the goal or focus of the group needs to be clear and singular. I have seen groups of energetic and hard-working people fall apart because no one could provide a clear direction. They bumble along losing workers and credibility until they disappear. In the case of our class, we had the simple goal of learning to make soap and it took the instructor to keep us headed in that direction.

Secondly, individual humility is key to making a properly functioning group. Big egos, either through feelings too easily hurt or by inflicting an excessive personality on the rest, can throw a group into turmoil. The group goal is usually forgotten because the members get too caught up in emotional drama. The worst is the convergence of big egos and separate group goals. There is the potential for disaster when two or more “Queen Bees” try to push separate agendas and goals on the group. However, in the functional group there is a true attempt by every individual to put aside personal feelings and agendas on behalf of the others. True humility puts the group before the individual. For example, those of us conscripted to set up for the teacher could have gotten upset because she was late to class, got stressed out, and started barking orders at us. Instead, we all rolled with it for the sake of the others and it ended up being a fun and productive afternoon.

Finally, a group can have clear goals and no disruptive personalities but still have be unsuccessful if there is no sense of humor in play. When group plans go awry and the achievement of the goal is in jeopardy, sometimes a sense of humor can do much to overcome obstacles and get the group back on track. Humor goes hand-in-hand with humility. Laughing at ourselves is sometimes the best way to move the group forward. Our small soap-making group saved the afternoon by infusing our activities with a sense of fun. Sometimes you just have to lighten up.

You may think these insights on group dynamics are a lot to derive from a small group of woman taking a craft class on a Saturday afternoon. I don’t think so. All groups, small to large, from the group of women around a table to the highest halls of our legislative bodies, operate fairly much the same. I need to ask myself some questions when I am working in a group: is there a clear goal? If not, I need to ask and seek clarification for myself and the others. Do I care about putting the interests of the others before mine? How am I going to react around the Queen Bees? Am I being the Queen Bee? (Let’s hope not). Do I have a sense of humor and able to roll with the punches?

Maybe, if we have a little more insight into how we work together, we can get more accomplished in our lives and in our world.

Now I’m off to make some soap.

ljgloyd © 2011

Inhabiting My Story

2011-11-11T20:17:00.000-08:00

The first art project in the Life is a Verb journey is to illustrate our lives within the drawing of a house. I don't really have a house so as long as I have to fantasize, I imagined my life inside a castle. I created this first in my art journal as a mixed media piece but then I went back and created a digital version.

ljgloyd (c) 2011

Dear Readers

2011-11-10T06:19:00.000-08:00

Welcome to the Lavender Gate, the portal to all the many things in this world that interest me. As I kick off this new blog, I reposted a few things from my other blogs as well as posting newly written material. What makes this blog different is that it consolidates all of my interests into one blog. In the future, besides posts featuring art, photography and creativity, you'll find more prose pieces, mostly observations I make about the world, book reviews, and maybe even a poem or two.

Thank you for dropping by and looking around. I love comments!

LJG, The Gate Keeper

Mixed Media Journal Entries

2011-11-10T06:10:00.001-08:00

For the past year, I been doing a lot of mixed media painting and collage. Here's a couple of examples from my art journal.

"Ungrounded"

"Hope is a Star in my Hand"

Nah, It's Just Dust....

2011-11-09T12:01:00.000-08:00

The picture I post here I am simply tossing out for your consideration and is open to whatever interpretation you care to give it.

Several years ago, I had brunch with several friends in the Grand Salon on the Queen Mary which now has her permanent home in California. The Grand Salon, along with many other areas of the ship, are reportedly haunted. I snapped this photo in the Salon during our meal. I have circled in red a brilliant blue-white orb. You might explain the orb as a pixilated dust particle or a reflection from all the glass and brass. However, this orb seems to have an inner glow which dust orbs lack and a clearly defined shape which a reflection would not have.

Perhaps it is a spirit drawn to the lovely music being strummed by the harpist. Who knows?

ljg (c) 2011. Originally posted 2006, 2007

A Moment Last Saturday

2011-11-09T05:30:00.000-08:00

Last weekend I drove to a “Trendy-and-Affluent-City-by-the-Sea” (I’m not going to name names here). I had not been there for a while, and I wanted to shop at its farmers' market as well as visit a culinary store and the only big bookstore left in the area. As I pulled up to the entrance of one of the municipal parking structures, I saw a big sign that said “No Cashier. Take your Ticket and Pay at the Pay Machine before Returning to Your Car.”

One of my little quirks is that I hate when parking a car becomes complicated. I don’t like parking structures and particularly those wretched parking payment machines. I have had trouble with them in the past and being that each structures' machines are slightly different, my having to use one of them would have put more of a learning curve on my morning’s outing than I cared to deal with. So I drove on and found a metered parking spot on the street. It was just easier.

After feeding a few quarters into the meter, I started thinking about this new parking situation as I walked towards the farmers' market. So what happened to all the cashiers that used to work in this and the other city structures? Were they assisted in finding new jobs when they were replaced by these machines? Or were they just added to the already overflowing pool of unemployed labor? Did the Trendy City’s management even think of them at all before they laid them off? And where is the money going that is saved by not having to pay cashiers? Did the parking rates go down? I don’t think so.

I walked through the farmers' market and browsed its expensive eco-farmed produce and artisan crafted gourmet foods. I found myself less interested in buying than I had been when when I first arrived. Who can afford any of this? Certainly not the numbers of homeless folks I saw squatting on the edge of the market grounds and rattling their begging cups at the other market patrons. I have nothing against the food producers making a living and people enjoying locally grown and sustainable foods. After all, that’s why I made the trek. This time, though, I could see a drama of the haves and have-nots being played out over the brussels sprouts and pomegranates -- something I had seen many times before but had never really noticed.

As I wandered around, I stopped in a parking structure to study the instructions on one of the new pay machines. I wanted to figure out how it worked and how much it cost for the next time I visited. The machine was fairly straight forward to use, but one thing struck me: there was no place to make a payment with cash. It only took cards.

I do have plastic, but I don’t like to use cards any more than necessary. Using cash and not using plastic (even a debit card) is my way of living within my means. When my weekly allowance of paper and coins runs out, then I stop spending.

Then another thought occurred to me: those folks of even lesser means who do not have the luxury of credit lines or even checking accounts -- how do they come here and pay?

Then I glanced at the high-end luxury car parked near the pay machine. Ah. They don’t.

The awareness that had germinated a few minutes earlier at the farmers' market suddenly bloomed into a full epiphanal moment: I did not belong there, either physically and morally. I cannot, in good conscience, be a part of a world that flaunts the MORE and bars access to it at the expense of the world that must endure the LESS.

So I walked back to my fifteen-year-old rattle-trap car and high-tailed it back to the neighborhood where I grew up, a blue-collar enclave on the edge of the Trendy City. I drove to a small neighborhood grocery market just two blocks from the Projects to buy my vegetables. At the market the parking is free and uncomplicated and transactions can still be made with cash.

And I even spoke to a real-live cashier.

ljgloyd (c) 2011

Book Review: Juicy Pens, Thirsty Paper

2011-11-05T07:58:00.001-07:00

SARK's Juicy Pens, Thirsty Paper is an engaging and delightful read.When I first picked it up, I had a hard time putting it down until I had finished it.

As well as being visually appealing and infused with playful humor, this book bursts with practical and simple exercises for the writer in overcoming creative blockages.Particularly inspiring are the portraits of other writers who share their insights on the creative process.Finally, the lists of writing resources at the end are worth the price of the book alone.

Juicy Pens, Thirsty Paper will easily become a valuable tool for any new or veteran writer.I highly recommend it.

ljgloyd (c) 2011, originally published 2008

El Dia de los Muertos

2011-11-05T07:50:00.000-07:00

The Day of the Dead celebration, El Dia de los Muertos, is a practice that goes back thousands of years in the cultures of the indigenous peoples of Mexico and Central America. When the Europeans came to this area, the celebration was blended with the observance of All Saints Day and All Souls Day on November 1 and 2. Elements of pre-Christian and Christian symbols were merged and the celebration became one where the observant remember their deceased loved ones. Today this celebration is observed in many Latin American countries as well as Latin American communities in North America.

I came across this Day of the Dead altar in my community. Passerbys were invited to write messages on pieces of cloth to honor and remember their loved ones and pin them to the altar. On the altar are marigolds which were sacred flowers to the ancient Aztecs, comical skeletons as a reminder that death is not to be feared, candles to represent life and hope, incense to purify the space, food as an offering to the deceased, and crosses to show that Jesus has triumphed over death.

How I Make a Digital Construction: "The Empress"

2011-11-04T05:40:00.000-07:00

Some of you have asked how I do my digital constructions. This one, "The Empress," is just a simple montage of photographic elements that I have cropped, adjusted, and filtered in Photoshop and then arranged on the background. It is really not that much different from doing a montage or collage of paper and mixed media elements. The principles of composition and color are the same.

After finding all the images, I lassooed and selected the parts I wanted to use, arranged them in layers in the Photoshop workspace, adjusted the brightness, contrasts, levels, hues, saturations, and colors, transformed the layers, applied blurs, smudges, noise, fills, and clones, rendered lighting effects and lens flares, painted in sparkles, and erased anything that just did not work well. Then I flattened the piece.

This one took about three hours to construct and I entered the same artistic "zone-out" (alpha state?) as if I were creating with real paint or pen. In my opinion, the art is in making all the elements jive together and resona
te. The photographic croppings and the photoshop program are just the tools... just like a paint brush or scuptor's clay.

Here are all the images I used to make the "The Empress." They are all free use images from Morguefile and Flickr Commons plus a cannibalization of one of my previous montages, "The Amber Necklace."

ljgloyd (c) 2011, originally published 3/2010.

Aioli and Mindful Living

2011-11-03T23:15:00.000-07:00

A couple of nights ago, I watched an episode of Anthony Bourdain's No Reservations where he visits Provence. I had been looking forward to this episode all week. This is odd because I have never been to Provence, have no plans to go to Provence, and have had no particular interest in the cooking of Provence. Rather, I think it is the idea of Provence that I found so alluring. Mr. Bourdain, in fact, does address the reason why many people find the notion of living in Provence appealing. In the episode, he has a conversation with his hosts where he says:

Everyone in some child-like way craves a life of simplicity where they have a garden, beautiful sun, where they can walk into a small town and everyone will know them and wave...

That's it. He nailed it. There is something appealing about the simple life, something that many of us find so desirous as we struggle with the break-neck speed of daily urban life. What some of us desire, even if we don't realize it, is to live more mindfully. That is, we actually want to walk through life more slowly, gently, with great focus and attention.

This concept is explored in a segment of the episode where an elderly woman demonstrated the art of making aioli, an emulsified garlic sauce traditionally made with stone mortar and pestle. Mr. Bourdain made this comment about aioli-making:

It's very gentle, the process...You gotta be careful. You have to keep your voice down. Show a little respect for the process...

After watching this episode, I began thinking about making some aioli myself -- for no other reason except that spreading fresh aioli all over some fish, bread and vegetables sounded delicious. I did a mental inventory of my pantry: I have fresh garlic, olive oil, a lemon, and a mortar and pestle. I could do this. Then I began trolling the internet for recipes and found everything from the highly convoluted (chipotle aioli made with mayonaise... eeewwww) to the plain and easy. Finally, I found a video on YouTube demonstrating the simple traditional method, and I committed the process to memory.

When I got home from work, I found my mortar and pestle, got out my best extra virgin olive oil and sea salt, peeled three large garlic cloves, and sliced an oh-so-tiny sliver of lemon.

Then I began to grind the garlic with a scant pinch of salt, softly and gently, just like the elderly woman. I worked with focus and commitment. I shut out the sound of cars passing by my front door and imagined myself in a country kitchen. I imagined using my own home-grown garlic, which I recently planted in a relative's garden. With great deliberation I added drops of lemon juice and olive oil and continued grinding. I fell into a rhythmic motion: grind, grind, drops of oil, grind, grind, drops of juice. About 10 minutes later I had a couple of tablespoons of thick, silky smooth, sunny yellow paste.

I sliced and toasted some fresh bread, still in a mindful state and fully relaxed after a long day at the office. I took a spoonful of the aioli, slathered it on a hot piece of toast and took a nibble. Suddenly, I was snapped back to reality. Fresh aioli, created with so much quiet attention and mindfulness, has a unexpected bite and kick. It flung me out of my semi-zen state and back to normal time and space.

Garlic has a way of keeping things real.

So, my point is telling you this is to encourage you to find a routine task, anything, even vacuuming or washing your car, and do it slowly and attentively, with the goal of attaining a simpler, less stressful life, at least for a few minutes.

I know, it's not Provence, but maybe its a road in the right direction.

ljgloyd (c) 2011, originally published 3/24/2010.

PS: Here is the video I found on YouTube showing a traditional method of making aioli:

Everybody Dance Now!

2011-11-03T23:02:00.000-07:00

The dance motif often shows up in my writing and artwork, though I’m certainly not a dancer. No, I don’t have the elegant athleticism of a ballerina or the pixie-build of a Dancing With the Stars hoofer. Yet, when I turn on music in the privacy of my living room and start bee-bopping to the beat, I become like all the women who ever danced in their tents in front of their sisters, mothers, aunts, and cousins. Those voluptuous women of ancient times, with curves only childbearing or age can give them, danced to celebrate births, marriages and sometimes just for the fun of it.

Sometimes they danced to connect themselves to the source of all things. In a qigong class I took a few months ago, the instructor gave us an exercise. We were to slightly bend our knees and begin rocking in a circular movement while at the same time rotating our arms in front of us like we were stirring a cauldron. The purpose of this was to visualize stirring up energy from the earth to invigorate our own internal energy. With all of us in the studio doing this together, it felt like a dance. It was invigorating because I felt as if I had tapped a deep vein at the source of my being.

All of us can “dance” like this. Even the simplest movements can touch this energy. Another qigong movement is to stand in place and gently bounce by lifting and dropping the heels ever-so-slightly. It is a barely a movement, but it can uplift and energize.

So ladies, and gentlemen too, it’s time to start dancing, even if it is only a bounce.

Take a look at this video of the Fat Chance BellyDance women. These ladies know what I’m talking about. Feel free to get up and dance along.

ljgloyd (c) 2011, originally published by the author 12/4/2010.

A Beginning

2011-11-02T18:28:00.000-07:00

Why am I starting this blog? There are several reasons.

First, I have been a blogger for many years and I had always approached blogging in an intuitive, evolving manner which, though quite spontaneous and amenable to experimentation, led me to end up up with a several different blogs on a variety of interests. I am one person of many interests. Why should my blog not be as well?

Second, I was a member of an international writers group for a number of years where I honed my blogging skills. Although I had an absolutely marvelous time, that group is no longer active and I find that I now need to set out on my own and learn to write without the aid of daily prompts. And what better way to inaugurate this new direction than with a new blog.

Finally, I am involved in an women’s mixed-media online group, Wild Precious, and right now we are working, as a group, through Patti Digh’s book, Life is a Verb: 37 Days to Wake Up, Be Mindful, and Live Intentionally. The practice of a frequent, regular writing routine does move one to live more mindfully and intentionally, and it seems somewhat serendipitous that we started working through Digh’s book on November 1, which is the same day I created this blog.

It just seems right.