living a creative life

When I was in grade school, I used to tell a silly story that went something like…

Once upon a time, there was a little universe.
And in that universe, there was a little solar system.
And in that solar system, there was a little planet.
And on that planet, there was a little continent.
And on that continent…

The story — which I could see in my mind — got closer and closer, periscoping in on a little house and maybe a little family or a little girl. I don’t remember the ending, if there even was one.

I found myself thinking about that as I was careening up I-95 for what creativity guru Julie Cameron might call an Artist Date.

“An artist date is a block of time, perhaps two hours weekly, especially set aside and committed to nurturing your creative consciousness, your inner artist. In its most primary form, the artist date is an excursion, a play date that you preplan and defend against all interlopers. You do not take anyone on this artist date but you and your inner artist, a.k.a. your creative child. That means no lovers, friends, spouses, children – no taggers-on of any stripe.”¹

It was my first solo adventure since my knee replacement surgery four months ago, and I suspect I was breaking Artist Date rules. First of all, I was rushing to get there. It felt more like an errand run or a have-to-do than a creative outing.

Second, there were all sorts of interlopers — the client with erupting mental health issues, the pedophile president, the elementary schoolgirls bombed in Iran, the words of John Lennon — going round and round in my head.

Nonetheless, I kept driving, thinking about the little universe and all of its big problems on my way to the Guilford Art Center, which was hosting an exhibit called, ironically, CIRCULAR THINKING.

CIRCULAR THINKING, featuring fiber art created by the Studio Art Quilt Associates, was “designed to explore the varieties of meanings, images, and experiences evoked by the circle…a shape, a symbol, a concept, or a metaphor.”² The exhibit had been on view since the beginning of the month, and I was happy to slip into the colorful space on its last day.

So much color that I thought, for a moment, I might escape our little world and lose my interlopers all-together.

But there was a shadow of RFK across Hope Barton’s quilt Why We Need Vaccines; Lynne Allen and Cassandra Allen mentioned Endless Conflict, and Martha Wolf asked me to read between the lines of A Newspaper to see the loss of our black and white reality.

Why We Need Vaccines, Hope Barton
Endless Conflict, Lynne Allen and Cassandra Allen
A Newspaper, Martha Wolf

I was buzzing. Hurried. Preoccupied. Definitely not of a “date” mindset. But then a bright bold sun called out and Catherine Lavoie’s piece called Shattered explained…

“Red slashes represent that moment when you finally admit your life is shattered and you need to make changes. The golden background fabric represents the glow of Hope that you can do this.”

Then Rita Hannafin’s sparkling quilt reminded me that We Are Stardust, “part of the swirling, timeless energy that continues life.”

And slowly, slowly, slowly, I started to come back to myself. Settle in. A little.

Shattered, Catherine Lavoie
We Are Stardust, Rita Hannafin

I wandered through the rest of the gorgeous exhibit, browsed the amazing collection of gifts in The Shop — oh my! — then headed on to my next stop, City Gallery in New Haven.

City Gallery was hosting painter Beatriz Olson and her solo exhibit UNMUTED: THE RETURN OF COLOR, “a body of work that traces her journey back to voice, embodiment, and the full spectrum of color that once lay quiet beneath the demands of culture, profession, and expectation.”³

Beatriz is an expressive artist, whose work “involves holistic approaches to healing the body mind and soul distress by using color, form and lack thereof to process emotions.”

Serendipitously, she was gallery sitting for the afternoon, so not only did I get a personal tour of the exhibit, I had the chance to talk with Beatriz about her work and the stories behind the paintings, including The Great Mother and Courage.

The Great Mother, Uncomfortable Truths, Ubabashed – Beatriz Olson
Courage, Beatriz Olson

(We also talked about knees — she’s a doctor and her husband is an Orthopedic Surgeon — and books. As a matter of fact, we’re exchanging books — a copy of my Sleeping with Ghosts for a copy of her Mind Body Secrets that I can’t wait to read!)

Perhaps my favorite piece in her show was Women’s Voyage to Freedom, hanging prominently on the back wall of the gallery. Its bold colors and gold accents tell the story of women coming into their own in this world — moving from what we’re taught, to what we learn, to how we emerge, flourish, and create our own stories.

Noticing the little Universe in the upper corners of the painting, it felt as if the Artist Date had come full circle. And, in a way, so had I — returning to the curious and mobile spirit who is more than ready to get back to living a creative life!

[1] Cameron, Julia. The Artist’s Way: A Spiritual Path to Higher Creativity. United States: Penguin Publishing Group, 2002.

[2] Art Quilts Take Shape Around ‘Circular Thinking’ at Guilford Art Center’s Newest Gallery Exhibit

[3] City Gallery presents Unmuted — The Return of Color: Where Color, Spirit, and the Feminine Rise

Jess Craven posted this on her Substack CHOP WOOD, CARRY WATER yesterday, and I wanted to share it with you. I imagine, if you’re here reading this, you already know the ways you connect with your “green dog.” This is a reminder of how very important that is, now more than ever.

“There’s a thing they talk about in recovery circles—I call it the parable of the red dog and the green dog*. It’s simple, and goes like this: We each have two dogs inside of us, a red one and a green one. The red dog is all of our dark impulses—self-hatred, fear, addiction, anger, isolation, etc. The [green] dog is our “light” impulses—love, connection, honesty, sobriety, and the like.

The two dogs are in constant battle. So what determines which one wins?

It comes down to which one we feed.

Our country is having its own red dog and green dog moment. We have a red dog that is fear, exploitation, greed, racism, hate, dictatorship. We have a green dog that is love, justice, tolerance, empathy, community, democracy. Both dogs are extremely powerful. They have battled for the duration of our country’s existence. That battle has now grown internecine—perhaps it always was.

So which dog will win?

Again, the one we feed.

That’s why I look at this work not so much as fighting the “bad guys” as helping the good ones. I try not to fight the red dog. Because doing so, in many ways, helps it, not me.

Instead I just feed the green one. Because doing so helps it and me.

That’s what our actions here are about. Feeding the proverbial green dog. It’s how we sustain this work, but it’s also how we win. And, ironically, how we care for ourselves!

So when things get overwhelming, when it seems impossible to track the plethora of evils we face, when hate seems to have taken a million forms, I quiet my mind and focus my purpose by remembering “that’s the red dog. What can I do for the green one?”

Friends, the green dog is better fed than ever these days. It is thriving. So instead of worrying about every instance of evil coming out of this administration, let’s channel our righteous energies towards growing love. Growing justice. Growing tolerance. Growing empathy. Growing community. Growing democracy. There are literally countless ways we can do these things. All of us can find a few that work for us.

And that’s a great thing. Because the more these things grow, the more our opponents will wither, falter, and fail.

It may seem counterintuitive, but this approach works—I have lived experience to prove it, and I’m not alone. Best of all, it strengthens us. Because it turns out feeding the green dog also feeds us.”

So tell me, how are you feeding the green dog today? Comment below.

ARTWORK: Keith Haring Pop Shop Dogs

*I only found references to a Red Dog/Blue Dog recovery technique, and someone in Jess’ comments mentioned that this approach is originally a native Cherokee parable about two wolves (see more). Either way, you get the point. I hope.

Please follow and support Jess’ CHOP WOOD, CARRY WATER. She is a beacon of light and action in this dark world. Click here.