Photo Pause: Of Earth, Wood and Stone

A temporary pause from words, to let the visual speak.

These images are the result of impromptu and cathartic camera play at Squam Art Workshops (Squam Lake, New Hampshire) a few weeks ago. I am drawn to their earthy pull; it has a very grounding effect on me.

moss on rock

spiral bark

the gulf

orange 'shroom

white rock and pinecone

a soft spot to land, and grow

lichen in afternoon sun

sunny moss on stump

7 Reasons Creative Retreats Are Good For You

tree in morning sun, Squam Lake, New Hampshire

"One of the underlying reasons for traveling to sublime landscapes... is to pay witness to a world far beyond our narrow concerns, to enter a cultural world that does not trigger our habitual responses, and at best, to find ourselves then borne along by some other invisible current; an invisible current, that until then we were too habituated to or preoccupied to find."

~ David Whyte, The Three Marriages

This month I travelled to the woods of New Hampshire for a creative retreat. No doubt Squam Art Workshops fits the bill (and more!) when it comes to Mr. Whyte's sublime landscapes with an invisible current, but really any retreat that gets you out of your habitual environment has the same potential - big or small.

~~~

Gathering with like-minded people in a physical space dedicated to creative endeavours is good for you. Here's why:

~ It allows a temporary respite from the little things that sometimes weigh big. You know, the laundry piles, the dustbunnies, the unopened bills on the table... Sure it'll be there when you get back, but for now? You can leave that sh-- at home. Free your psyche for bigger things.

~ It shakes you out of visual complacency. Being in a new physical environment can stimulate new creative patterns. New smells, views, sounds, palettes, textures... who knows where they all could lead?

~ It gives you the confidence to sink even deeper into your creative identity. Being with a bunch of creative kindreds can do wonders to reinforce what you already know: that you are a painter/dancer/writer/[insert your creative title here]. For the duration of your retreat, you are free to live it. Unabashedly.

~ It entices forces you out of your creative - and sometimes social - comfort zone. You work through a new painting process, write poetry instead of business memos, take photos of people instead of stills. You share lodging and meals with people you've never met before, hop on a plane when you're afraid to fly, or leave the kids alone with their father for the first. time. ever. Grow little one, grow.

~ It facilitates new connections and creative community. Gathering with other creative folks expands your creative network, offering support that may not always be readily available on the home front. It may bring about friendships that last a lifetime, or deep connections that exist only for that momentary purpose they were meant to fulfill. Both are wonderful.

~ If you're lucky, it gives you a safe place to be yourself, understood, and accepted for who you are.

~ If you're even luckier, it infuses you with an intangible creative spirit and energy that will carry you through to the next retreat, that invisible current referred to by Mr. Whyte, above.

~~~

Creative retreats are good for you.

Whether it's to a local studio, an oceanfront cottage across the country, or an empty boardroom at the office, where could you travel for yours?

Back from Squam Art Workshops Part 2 (or, A Post of Gratitude)

[Warning: it's a long one.]

After five years, the impact of Squam Art Workshops (or S.A.W.) is still as strong as it ever was; luckily, re-entry gets a bit easier. Thank goodness.

Upon re-reading it, my first post about this year's S.A.W. experience may seem a bit, ahem, intense (though intense does not always = bad).

To embrace the complete experience here, I also wanted to share about all the good things that kept me company, right along with the intensity. I offer you a Squam 2012 gratitude list...

my cabin - Point of View is a beautiful cabin; we went to bed to the sound of the water lapping up against the rocks, just outside our porch windows. It was bliss.

Point of View in the morning sun

my cabin mates - If we are open to it, Elizabeth (S.A.W. founder and director) has a gift of placing us exactly where we are meant to be. Ladies of Point of View, you were gentle and soothing comfort to me, which is exactly what I needed this year. I believe there was a greater force at play that brought us together. I thank you all for being you.

my classes, teachers and classmates - Intuition & Creativity with Marie Manuchehri on Thursday, and Origins with Jen Lee on Friday. There were no visual art classes this year, but two classes that were very self-exploratory in nature. To my teachers, thank you for creating a safe space for us to learn and explore. To my classmates, it was an honour to be a part of your journey; thank you for being part of mine.

the sunrises - I sat through three while I was there, on our dock, in silent reverence.

sunrise on Squam Lake, NH, Day 1

the food - I couldn't craft a Squam gratitude list without mentioning the food and the people who prepared it for us each day. It was all buffet all the time, and Maine Tracks ice cream included whole peanut butter cups. I don't think I need to say more.

the transformation - Each year I get to witness a-ha moments, emotional breakthroughs and joy-filled growth in others. There is no greater privilege.

earth art inspiration - This year's Earth Art students left treasures for us to discover along the wooded trails. Saturday afternoon I felt called to play with paint in the open studio, but alas had no canvas or surface on which to do so. Inspired by these Earth Art treasures, I created my own outdoor art, right outside our cabin. It was very cathartic and a much-needed creative release.

impromptu - and cathartic - earth art

being seen - Elizabeth publicly honoured those of us who were present at the very first S.A.W., in 2008. I felt seen and acknowledged, one of the greatest gifts one could receive, if you ask me.

the road trip to & from S.A.W. - For the past four years I've shared the trip to & from New Hampshire with a most beautiful travelling companion. We met the first year as cabin mates and discovered that we lived about 15 minutes apart. We've made the trek together ever since. I cannot think of a better way to bookend the experience. Thank you Miss K. for the laughter, the tears and even more precious, the comfortable silence.

Elizabeth - I don't even know where to begin. Each year she creates this safe space for us to gather and grow. She sees us, she hears us; she works her magic, and lets the magic work itself. She offers us her gifts, that in return, allow us to discover and share our own. Elizabeth, we see you too. And we are grateful. Yes, we are.

Back from Squam Art Workshops (or, Navigating Re-entry)

 

a tiny soft spot to land, and grow

Each year brings a different experience, fulfilling exactly what needs to be fulfilled at that given moment. This is what I've come to discover and accept.

I don't know how to describe this year's Squam Art Workshops experience. Deep knowing. Willful surrender. Anchored exhilaration. These are the words that come to me as I type.

Since this was my fifth time attending, I fully trusted the logistics and social aspects of the retreat. At the superficial level, I was not worried

I was however perplexed by the fact that going in, I felt tight and closed to feeling anything deeply, reluctant to let myself be open to any inner exploration, revelation or connection. That was Wednesday night.

By Thursday morning, about 9:30am, I wept openly and uncontrollably. Reluctance begone. Receiving begin.

I'll be honest, this year's Squam Art Workshops experience has left me a bit like a deer in headlights, wondering a big ol' WTF???

But because the questions that surfaced feel solid and true, I'm willing to sit with them and see where they lead me.

Reluctance begone. Receiving continue.

To all who attended, newbies and seasoned alike, I wish you a gentle re-entry.

More processing to come later...

Off to Squam Art Workshops

packing for Squam Art Workshops, land of purple scarves and pretty shoes

For a fifth year in a row, I'm off to play in the woods of New Hampshire for five glorious days.

In March 2008, the eve of my birthday, I voiced a plea to the Universe, for creative community:

"Lately I've been craving a creative community and today, I put this craving out to the Universe. I'm not sure how and I'm not sure in what form, but when it manifests itself, whether with a bang or through a series of quiet opportunities over time, I will know."

In September 2008, coffee mug, road maps and courage in hand, I drove to the inaugural Squam Art Workshops.

Life hasn't been the same since.

The moral of this story: Don't be afraid to ask for what you need. The Universe is only waiting to provide - and more.

I leave tomorrow morning. I'll see you on the flip side...