I wrote a poem but forgot to share . . .

If you write a poem and forget to share it, what is the point? Right? I mean it may as well, perhaps, not exist, unless you let it fly & land in the hearts, souls or on the shoulders of others who are patiently waiting to hear what you have to say.

on the edge

I feel at times, that I’m waiting, expectantly to hear what you have to say, or share, a story, a song, a dance, a poem, a photograph. I’m so eager to know what lives in the depths of your soul that I often get a little too eager; which then leads to frustration, perhaps exasperation. I know it is there, swirling around in the depths of your soul just wanting to be seen, heard, acknowledged & loved; do you know it’s there?  Perhaps you do know this. Perhaps my pushing to see it is just really annoying. I can understand this because there are people I don’t feel safe enough to share everything with. It’s not just as simple as sharing or not sharing is it?

I mean it’s also possible you may not be ready to show that story, thought, or idea. That’s really and truly okay and perfect; but still frustrating for me, nonetheless. We all have our own comfort zones based on our demeanor, cultural upbringing, our past experiences, etc. You may be more comfortable with small talk about art or family. I abhor small talk, most of the time. Unless it is necessary & in the context of quickly connecting with someone in an elevator or waiting for your food to be prepared at a counter service restaurant. There are many times when I don’t really feel the need to dive deeply.

But, for those of you who know me beyond sharing an elevator ride beware because sometimes when we talk I try to lure the story out by sharing my deepest wobbly bits. Those embarrassing, potentially devastating bits and pieces that if they are not received with interest &/or empathy can sting or feel like a stomach punch. So I sometimes, tend to over-share or dive deeply too quickly for you; but it is my way of luring the stories, poems, thoughts, ideas, dreams, visions, desires out of you. It’s not that I need your stories as much as I love to be in that deeper space where the energy is visceral, alive & inspiring. It’s similar to the feeling I get when I walk & talk with the trees. Some sort of vibration is ignited within me, creating a much more expansive energy to dance in, with you of course.

I also know that there is great freedom that can come in living transparently. When there is really nothing to hide from or stay small for the dance becomes invigorating, refreshing & cleansing. Dr. Brene’ Brown talks about this in her work. She says that when we share our shameful stories & vulnerabilities with a safe person, that it diminishes the power the shame holds on us. Exposing it to the light destroys it’s ability to live on. Without shame, fear, hiding from the truth we can dance freely. Freedom feels so good.

I’m really all about freedom, that’s what the book I wrote is about, The Art & Soul of Dancing Barefoot; & that is really what I stand for.

So this is me holding my hand out, asking you to join me in a space of deeper sharing, creating, loving, existing, & dancing.

I’ll post the poem on the next post!

(suspense, intrigue)

BIG, luscious, Love

Katariina

the new girl . . .

the new girl

Yesterday I had a very productively creative day. In the morning I had my Monotype class at the Art League of Houston where I made three new prints & started working on another.

Then I drove home went straight to my studio & started painting. I haven’t done that in a while & before I knew it I was lost in the creativity & the love of my new palette of three colors (thanks Misty Mawn & mary beth). Quinacridone gold is currently the most magical color in the entire world – YES in the entire world, possibly the universe.

When I was all painted & done I realized I was sitting with a new girl. Where did she come from? It was a few serendipitous glances, connections with other’s art, stories of a monkey named cookie, softening, becoming less precious with my strokes, allowing, opening a little & there she was, “the new girl.” I’m not sure what her name is just yet. She looks a bit surprised to be here possibly just as much as I am surprised she showed up. I’m thinking she needs a crow or a fish or at least a few flowers to keep her company or perhaps another friend to sit next to her.

I also added some cool embellishments to my photo of three stuck leaves in Nosara, Costa Rica at the Nosara Retreat Center (that’s a nod to the fabulous Abbie who owns the property).

don't rescue the beautifully stuck

monoprint - waterfall

new monotypes

All in all, I would say it was a lusciously, creatively, productive day. But what is really cool is that I know I’m doing what I’m meant to do for now at least because I can so easily lose time when I’m painting or creating. It’s either that I lose time or I step into an alternative time sequence that measures time in a totally new way either way I love it.

on my easel . . .

back to basics

This is a painting that sat & sat & sat on my easel while I tried different sketches but nothing seemed right. Then I painted over it with a slate oops paint & suddenly the possibilities blossomed into a monochromatic, chalk-boardy sort of image. It was different to highlight rather than shade on the nude – a completely different perspective.

Well anyways, here it is for your viewing.I called it Back to Basics (not sure why). I’m sure I’ll keep working on it because I always do, but wow, how different this is than my other paintings. I like that about it. If I keep creating everyday like this, I can’t imagine what my paintings will look like in five years – on my 50th birthday!!!! Woooo Hoooo!!!!

a closer shot