ORIGINAL BLISS

A Day of Rest

"Study the old ways. 

Some knowledge is valuable... but you must dig deep to find the treasure."

It was a whirlwind of days off for me this week. Preparing for a workshop, a trip to San Francisco then workshop day!

Finally today! I slept in. Took a walk. Broke in my new, extra EXTRA LARGE moleskine with my new Rapidographs. Edited some photos from San Francisco. Read up on my new diet plan. Put this quick blog together.

Yeah, not much of a day of rest after all.

But it was sooooo fulfilling!

Here are some of the photos from our day in the City by the Bay. It is so easy to find that elusive "creative time" when you have a camera in your hand. (Click to enlarge).

Mattea

Awesome Graffiti Art

Mattea Again

Mattea & My Chocolate Malt

Eagle on Wells Fargo Building

In Bloom - Union Square

Opera in the Alley - Singing the most beautiful rendition of Ava Maria I have ever heard.
I cried.

The Sky is Falling!

Stupid has the Balls!

Young Love
Zack & Kelsea

My Hands

Namaste,

C H E Z

Tossing Pennies to the Ground

When I find myself bombarded and swirling in a sea of apparent chaos - having a hard time getting a grip or a good read on my next step - I grab 3 pennies, throw them to the ground and consult "The Book of Changes." Its wisdom and guidance is always straight forward and clear.

THE THROW -

Hexagram 54 - KUEI MEI - THE MARRYING MAIDEN.
Undertakings bring misfortune.
Nothing that would further.

A girl who is taken into the family, but not as the chief wife, must behave with special caution and reserve. She must not take it upon herself to supplant the mistress of the house, for that would mean disorder. 

Do not attempt to excel at your work, attempts to get ahead will be disastrous. Trying to attain desires now leads to compromising your self.

Use your energy to strengthen your inner vision. Hold on to what is enduring. Cling to the ideal.

CHANGING TO:

Hexagram 34 - TA CHUAN - THE POWER OF THE GREAT.

A time when inner worth mounts with great force and comes to power. But its strength has passed beyond the median line, so there is danger that one may rely entirely on one’s own power and forget to ask what is right. There is also danger that, being intent on movement, we may not wait for the right time.

This is a truly great power that does not degenerate into mere force but remains inwardly united with the  principles of right and of justice.

When we understand that greatness and justice must be indissolubly united – we understand the true meaning of all that happens in heaven and on earth.

Through contemplation you have opened higher doors for yourself. Proceed with wisdom, hand in hand, mind in mind, soul in soul with Source.

My 2 favorite versions The I Ching - A Guide to Life's Turning Points and I Ching Workbook

Namaste,

C H E Z

When Rumi Met Mucha

 

Alphonse Maria Mucha (1860-1939) and Jalāl ad-Dīn Muḥammad Rūmī (1207 - 1273) are very well acquainted, and meet together often... in my head.

I have always been drawn to the paintings, posters and advertisements of Mucha. The radiant women in flowing robes, the floral halos crowning their heads, every exquisite detail. 

There is a scene in Mary Poppins, where they go to the park and jump into a sidewalk painting into another colorful reality. If I could jump into art... I would jump into Mucha and swim in the seas of his tea and moss greens.

He became famous for his commercial art - which was a source of frustration for him because he believed art only existed to communicate a spiritual message. 

I can understand that. 

When I worked in advertising and marketing, I felt like all my creativity was tapped into and drained to be used only for the client and a bottom line. Creativity is so connected to the Divine, that it, indeed, felt as though I was selling my soul.

Rumi dances in my head christening my brain with poetry.

"You are the fountain of the sun's light"

"We always see the qualities that are living within us. Purify your eyes and see a pure world. Your life will be filled with radiant forms."

"See beyond phenomena."

"I have no more words. Let the soul speak."

Celedon words dripped from his finger tips so long ago and sooth my agitations today.

So I introduced Mucha to Rumi. Their words and images together create a little retreat for me to escape to - especially when I feel like I am selling my soul for a penny.

 Namaste,

C H E Z

The Way of the Crone

I have lost all my matriarchs & crones.

Is there no one to teach me the ways of grief and truth?

The Grandmothers are gone

and their next generation refuses to accept the sceptre.

Opting instead to hide behind the Guise of the Maiden,

prolonging the embrace of their wisdom,

trading it, at great cost, for false youth.

Maybe it is up to me to reclaim the name of the crone:

The healer, the teacher, mentor and guide.

The one of steady strength and unlimited power.

When I was young and angry, I would hop on my bike and ride halfway across town to sit at the table with my grandmother.

I would share my sorrow and rage at the unfairness of it all. She would drink her coffee, smoke a cigarette, give me homemade Snicker doodles and milk

and listen.

After I spilled myself empty, it was her turn to speak. She always validated my feelings. And then she would advise me on how to continue living in the face of childhood injustices.

I left nurtured and healed.

Grandma Roseberry was a hard, battle ax of a woman - not the grandma you would snuggle up next to in a rocking chair. But she was wise, giving, and strong. And I miss her terribly.

If Grandma were here today:

I would ask her if she cried when she saw her youth fading from her reflection.

I would ask her how to grieve the loss of your babies as they become women, and how to transition to parenting adults.

I would tell her that I understand and appreciate how she worked so hard; night shifts at the Sheriff department and raising 4 kids while their father was on a long haul.

I would ask her to tell me the true story of her grief and fear when her mother was murdered. And her loneliness and anger at being abandoned by her father, put in foster care, while he moved east to start a different family. I would tell her how sorry I am that that happened to her because she never got to be a cherished little girl.

I would sit my children down with her so she could impart her shoot from the hip, no holds barred, this is how it is, wisdom upon them. Because there is no one around them with her way of wisdom.

Our Western world disparages and ostracizes the crone. Our fevered resistance to aging. Our clinging to eternal youth and beauty. Our turning away from our elderly, putting them away in a separate space amongst themselves rather than among us all.

Our children FEAR old people, when they should revere and venerate them.

I turn 42 years old soon. While that is still too young to be considered a Crone, I feel the Dark Mother waking inside me, ready to show me her magic.

Namaste,

C H E Z

Check Yourself Out!

 

One of the New Year's Evolution-ary goals I set myself as part of my Soul Side Out quest for 2010, is to be kinder to my body.

What age is it that we become body conscious? When did we stop being in the flesh - with joy and play - and start seeing our temple with a critical eye?

For me it must have been before the age of 12. I have a scrapbook page with my 7th grade, Charlie Bucket, school photo, taped next to my rejection letter, where I begged Seventeen Magazine to make me over.

 

 

Maybe it began when I was 8 and boys on the schoolyard teased me about not having boobs.

Maybe it was the posters of Farrah Fawcett plastered in every grown mans garage...

Who the hell knows, but body dysmorphic ideas have shadowed my life.

If I were to go through the pages of all my diaries growing up, EVERY ENTRY would have at least one example of body hate. There are many entries that are full with complete loathing.

A day doesn't go by where I don't feel guilty that I didn't exercise or I mind-fuck what I ate!

Quite frankly, I am tired of that crap.

What a huge waste of time, energy and LOVE!

 

So rather than approach the changes I would like to create in regards to my body with stress, regimen, pressure and judgment, I am going to find one simple appreciation - a single cell of gratitude for the vehicle I inhabit every day.

"My eyes are bright and sparkly today."

"My legs felt invigorated as I walked under the stars on this clear New Year's night."

"When I am this size, I have BOOBS! Thank God for BOOBS!"

"I am so completely and utterly beautiful."

I get teary hearing that from myself.

All of creation flourishes under the gaze of love. Maybe with a more loving and cherishing approach my body will naturally find BALANCE in itself.

 

ADDED BLOG BONUS!!!!!!

My daughter Mattea, who recently turned 15, has been challenged by her sister's boyfriend to add poetry to her list of creative outlets. What an amazing revelation she is! Thank you Zack for inspiring and nurturing this out of my daughter.

And there she was.
Head high. Eyes wide. Bathing in luminosity.
Inviting happiness unto others by the exposure of the pearls between her lips.
A girl not even the lifeless could miss.
By the sun, a kiss. One of life. Joy. Happiness.
You can see it in the way she flies.
The wind won't dare to catch her.
Stunned by the diamonds in her eyes
It stands still, captivated by her laughter.
Modesty denied to this goddess.
Flawless.
She never sees the night.
Welcomes everyone to join her flight;
Those who wish to escape the ground.
Then I slowly come back down.
My scars manifesting. My blood spelling "truth."
Perfection beyond recognition.
Yet, too real for imagination.
I say farewell to negativity.
How lucky I am, I'm beginning to see.
She's finding a way to light the world, through me.
What I found impossible, is likely becoming reality.

Namaste,

C H E Z

Introducing Personal Art Journal Coaching

 

Take your work or your voice to a deeper level with Personal Art Journal Coaching.

Is it hard to create with the same intensity you were able to achieve during a workshop once you are back home?

Do you wish you had a journal angel to look over your shoulder and push you in new, interesting directions?

Would you like personal assignments created just for you based on your own unique expression?

Maybe you have great ideas, but don’t know how to implement them.

Are you are ready to take your art journaling to the soul level?

I am available to assist you one on one in expanding your journey in art. Let me guide you in the direction your journal pages are leading and help you focus on the wisdom your pages are offering you.

Personal Art Journal Coaching is available for $100.00.
This includes a 30 minute phone coaching session and a 2 hour in-person Art Journal session - A workshop delivered to your home!

Long Distance Coaching is available for $50.
This includes a 30 minute coaching session plus 3 internet sessions.

After the initial phone session clients are given projects. Clients email completed assignments to me as an attachment or pdf file. I will provide feedback, perspective and ideas for you to take it to the next level.

Contact me via [email protected]. Once I receive a PayPal receipt I will contact you to arrange the 30 minute phone session.

Namaste,

C H E Z

Beauty is Truth, Truth Beauty.

   

Last week, I began practicing 15 minutes of NOTHING every day. This week, I added the practice of TRUTH in my process of following Martha Beck's "The Joy Diet."

Just as the author said, once I began finding my nothing space, I could hear my still, small voice of Truth more clearly. 

It wasn't that easy at first. 

Actually, it was a god-awful mess. 

Once the cacophony of my everyday demands, worries and strife were swept away by my "waterfall", the first voice I heard was a hyper critical, judgmental screech. 

She pointed out all my failures and mistakes from the past. She reminded me that I am not that great, because if I was I'd have more to show for it. I am not successful. I am not acclaimed. Who do I think I am trying to be!

I don't know who that bitch is --- but she lives inside my head! 

So my peaceful Nothing Time became a time where I hurt my own feelings and felt like shit.

No wonder we avoid quieting the mind - WE DON'T WANT TO HEAR WHAT WE REALLY THINK!

But it was a confrontation with a truth. That inner bitch is always chatting up my insecurities in the background of all the daily noise. I just had the opportunity to hear her LOUD and CLEAR.

It was an epiphany. I am not an "over-achiever", perfectionist, control freak, to prove myself to the world. I have been trying to appease THAT BEAST. And she is ever-hungry and never satisfied.

I tried brainstorming how to get rid of her. For days I did this. What can I do to get her out of my head!

I tried to flush her down the waterfall, but she always popped back up in there, with a nasty little, "neener neener!"

"Postive Affirmations" do not work when used as weapons against her. Shit, that is just an appetizer that gets her started!

And then in a small moment of silence, I heard a giggle. And then laughter and humor and joy shimmered all through my being. Tears gushed from my eyes!

The goal is not to fight her, not to ignore her, not to silence her... just acknowledge she is there. Hear her. As soon as I try to negate her - the fight is on, and then I am distracted by a cycle of abuse. 

I can listen to her, hear what she has to say, and not believe what she is saying. 

I did it with George Bush, why not my inner Esmerelda?

So I go into my Nothing Time, wash the everyday down the waterfall, give a shout out to Ezzie in the corner, and get to the juicy heart of myself.

  

Namaste,

C H E Z

The Spirit Fix

Home again!

It feels so good to return to my sanctuary after being away.

But traveling... journeying... is always so enlightening, expanding and inspiring.

I love the re-connection I feel with nature, my unrestricted self, and with others I meet on the path. It always surprises me when I step out of the box of the known, and into the unknown, how the universe meets you there. Everything feels right, uninhibited and possible.

I feel full.

When I journey, I always look for trinkets and souvenir ephemera: totems of the travel. The reverse of Hansel and Gretal, who dropped crumbs to help them find their way home, I gather treasures to mark the way I have been.

I use them in journal pages: a feather, a tag from a handmade goods store in Breckenridge, and a label from a kick-ass bottle of wine I drank with my beloved in a log cabin as we ate gas station chicken salad sandwiches, carrots and celery with ranch and hard boiled eggs and watched the Discovery Channel while he rubbed my feet.

But what I really wish I could find on the journey and bring home with me is a bottle of that carefree, full feeling.

Because in a few days when the bullshit of the everyday overwhelms, I could open up that bottle and catch a whiff of freedom and peace. In times really hard, I could pour it into a warm bath and I could soak that fullness into my pores... refuel my soul... get my spirit fix.

Namaste,

C H E Z

Fold 'Em

When I begin a journal page, I rarely know where I am going with it.
Sometimes I just have an image - Like a skeleton clip art image... Or a face... Or a color.
I put down an element, ask what it needs next, and build step by step.
It's like putting a puzzle together, but you don't have the box to show you what the image is supposed to end up looking like.
My soul knows, because she gives me each piece. But my ego has no idea.
When it is done, I look at it and see what it is tells me.

This one gave me a lot of titles.

"Surrender"
"My Last Hand"
"Fold 'Em"

It is telling me, that I have been playing the game with a lot of EFFORT.
Trying to win.
Fighting to win.
I am exhausted because I feel like I am losing or have lost.

Then that Kenny Rogers tune starts playing in my head. And it makes me giggle...
(because Kenny Rogers - even the sad songs - make me giggle for some reason... (actually all that 70's country music tickles my funny bone - but that's another post!))

I got a great sense of peace and JOY from the idea of FOLDING, from the idea of not playing the game anymore. Letting go of the cards. Letting them fall where they may. Walking away from the table. Being open to something greater.

Then I look at the hand I am releasing and I see I was holding 4 ACES!
I was holding a winning hand THE WHOLE TIME!

Do I regret folding now?

Nope.

People get shot for having those cards!

and I was probably playing Go Fish anyway. ;-)

Namaste,

C H E Z

"Everything Happens For a Reason"

I am not a follower or a believer in one specific dogma. True to my Aries nature, I am a pioneer and adventurer, and I love to dive into the well of consciousness, and play with different thoughts and ideas.

This is a very scary proposition to most. Because you have to let go of rigidly held beliefs in order to see what the other side is all about.

Twenty years ago, I became a born-again Christian. I read my Bible front to back several times. I had prayer and contemplation time both morning and at night. I was very active in the churches I attended, singing in choirs, helping plan the pot lucks, taking casseroles to the sick.

Then I met my future father-in-law, Leo.

Leo told me a story of his fundamentalist, Church of the Brethren, background. He, too, was a Bible "thumper". He took his Bible with him everywhere.

One day while working his milk route (yeah, he was a milkman), he woke up on the side of the roadway with 4 hours of time missing. He doesn't remember pulling over or falling asleep. He remembers coming to and being freaked out. He picked up his Bible and began to read it --- but something had changed. All the hell, damnation, fear, judgment, sin and guilt were no longer within the pages.

As a 40 year old man, who knew nothing but the guilt and sin, and fear and judgment all those years, now he picked up the Bible and all he read was love. It was like the word spoke a new and different language to him.

He fought that new translation mightily. He burned (all the Christians gasp!) BURNED several Bibles in his fireplace because it kept speaking of only love and divinity and forgiveness.

Finally, he gave in to the new thought, and was transformed by it. He made it his life's purpose to test the theory of love in all his interactions with others. He and his beautiful wife, Alberta, had some wonderful adventures from their explorations in a new belief structure.

Twenty years later, he met me.

Boy howdy did we go at it..... Actually, I went at him... he was an amused little Yoda poking my belief structure in its core sending me off like a wild cat.

My husband, Russ, would call his Mom and say, "We're coming over for dinner. Could you tell Dad NOT TO TALK spirit to Shannan."

He couldn't help it. He knew his Bible inside and out, and I knew mine outside and in.

And his ideas would twist me up -

because they made sense.

They spoke a deeper truth, a more empowering message than anything I'd ever heard in a church.

I went back and read my Bible again. Focusing on Love as the message. 

It was a terrifying position. I stood on the edge of my belief structure, a solid structure made up of a wood cross and the blood of a savior, and thought "what if I am wrong to believe something different from this?"

Then I thought, "What if they're wrong, too?"

And I jumped.

And I was never the same. Now just as kooky as my father-in-law, Leo... who is one of the dearest souls to me.

I don't have THE answers. I live in the question and possibility. I walk the mystical path with practical feet and vice versa - I walk in the practical world with mystical feet.

I love to test my kooky ideas and theories.

My current test is "Everything Happens For A Reason".

I am trying to prove this theory --- I have been searching for the "REASON" so much shit has happened in my life the past 2 years. I keep looking on the horizon for the REASON the appear on a white shining horse to console me that all the hell of the past 2 years was all worth it. 

So far, I am disproving that theory.

I am about ready to discard "Everything Happens For a Reason" and trade it in for:

"Sometimes Shit and only Shit Happens"

That's going to be the title of one of my books.

Namaste,

C H E Z