When I started making journals, it really started out as a way to make my own but also explore bookbinding as a creative avenue. I started right before the pandemic lockdown, so I had some time to think about what and how I wanted the books to look like, how I wanted them to be constructed, and how well they will hold up to regular use, and even abuse. But what turned out to be a huge, yet beautiful, surprise was how they have been received. I truly am humbled. The journals are a pleasure to produce, not to mention a great creative expression.

We’re at the start of a new year, and I’m finding myself taking stock, looking back if you will. I naturally become pensive and inward thinking when another year is about to pass. But there are things for which I have no doubt: I am so very grateful for what I have, what I am able to do, and for having a future that looks vibrant and confidant. There are dues we all must pay, but it’s only when we recognize this, that the successes become that much sweeter.

I’ve been listening to John O’Donohue lately. If you’re not familiar with him, he was an Irish poet, former priest, author, and philosopher. He was also a native Irish speaker and felt deeply about Celtic spirituality. He died suddenly in his sleep in 2008, but continues to be immensely popular for his insight about life, beauty, and our place in nature. If I had to recommend one podcast in particular as a wonderful introduction to him, it would be OnBeing with Krista Tippett. As you listen to him speak, you realize that even though he passed away over a decade ago, what he has to say is more relevant than ever. Sadly, it was one of his last in depth interviews. It’s so poignant, yet so timely, that I can’t help but wonder what he would have to say about society today.

There were subjects that genuinely made me stop, look up, and nod in agreement. The more I listen to him, the more I realize how much I need his beautiful words. One subject he discussed was this difference between your biography and your identity, and how they are two distinctive concepts. He felt that your biography is where the stories are told. But your identity is where your life is seamless, not compartmentalized, where it hasn’t been touched by the outside world, and not merely a series of actions. This reminded me of how many tech millionaires talk about not wanting to have obvious displays of wealth, but spend their money on “experiences.” Now, while I think that’s a load of total BS, it does say quite a lot, especially when seen through the lens of John O’Donohue’s idea. Sure, buying experiences can be awesome I imagine, and you can tell us all about it, but I might still be left wondering who you are. He alludes to the idea that our identities are where our souls reside, and where the universe lives within us. A place where we feel love and contentment, and where we touch when we meditate or pray.

He also discusses how the words we use very often, like love and friend, have become almost meaningless. Krista asks John if he feels if we have completely lost the beauty and context of these simple yet powerful terms. He does not think that we have lost their meaning, I would agree with that, but that we’ve been out of practice. Tech, and by extension social media, was billed as a way to bring people closer together. But it hasn’t. Online friends are not our friends. If the pandemic has done anything, it has brought into very sharp focus our need for each other. The greatest moments are when I am with others for a special occasion. Now special doesn’t mean grand. Special just means having a significant and unique place in my memory. A dinner with friends and/or family, sharing a table with strangers at a live music event and the conversation that comes from that, spending a hot sticky day out, but ending the evening in a quiet, beautiful, breezy setting, feeling calm and loved are but just a few examples that humans need to feel truly alive. I’ve been feeling the heavy weight of digital fatigue: the group texts, barely anyone answering a phone call, so we can’t even hear a human voice, online purchasing eliminating the chance for casual and lively chitchat, something that I so appreciate about vending…I feel like Sisyphus, it’s all so uphill at times.

It can be so maddening and sad when we only remember what legitimately matters when something goes terribly wrong, we miss the odds of being present in our everyday life. But I think we know what’s lovely and good intrinsically, we need beauty in our lives like oxygen. It’s why our physical surroundings are so important, however that doesn’t always mean pretty paint on a wall. It’s also means being in nature, being reminded of her great power and how we are the stewards of her greatness and generosity, and lets not forget the beauty of one another.

I’m starting the New Year off with a sort of ending: I don’t want to be like so many folks that hold on to things that make us miserable and sick because they are familiar, it’s like a gossamer veil that covers everything, yet allows life to come through falsely. The veil has been crushingly detrimental for all of us.

I’m going into this year with eyes wide open, with the big picture in full view.

Thank you everyone, Happy New Year!

Jos

Lately I’ve been thinking about Georgia O’Keeffe. Some years back, there was a retrospective of her work at the Brooklyn Museum. Not only were her paintings on display, but her wardrobe and many other personal effects. I didn’t know she was such an accomplished seamstress. There were many surviving pieces left that were made by the artist, such as delicate silk blouses, skirts, and dresses. But then again, I should not have been so surprised, creative people tend to be “multi-lingual” in the language of the arts.

I don’t always like to describe someone as complicated, I really do think it’s overused. But I do think that Georgia was deep and complex. Some of the writings suggested that she was a bit aloof and perhaps selfish. That surprised me also. But then again, should it? She was, above all, human, and like the rest of us, a mix of good and not so good. Why I’ve been thinking of her lately is because of her great desire for solitude, and I think that solitude lead her to her painting style. Although I’m personally a collage artist and maximalist to boot, I can’t help but admire her way of distilling form, structure, and her environment down to the bare minimum, almost to its essence. That was seen in her personal style also. She was able to get rid of the external noise, in her case she left to go to New Mexico, so she physically removed herself, and simply listened to what her surroundings were trying to tell her. So I’ve been finding myself wanting and needing that inner solitude for my own work, inner because I can’t just pack and leave. Georgia managed to paint, draw, sew, photograph, and live her life fully. The one characteristic of her New Mexico home was that it seemed to be very quiet. With the many artistic facets she was able to pull off, I do wonder how one is able to produce high value work consistently. I think it’s a question that many creatives ask. I believe it comes from solitude, listening, and most of all TRUSTING yourself. In another post I asked whether a creative should stick to what they’re known for, and ultimately I didn’t think so. If Georgia had done so, she would not have created such beautiful clothing, such striking photography, and cooked simple, innovative, and delicious meals that are considered way ahead of their time, with ingredients from her own garden. She became an example of how solitude, that state where you are alone, but not lonely, guided her actions to live a fully creative life. For those of us who cannot simply relocate, her life can still serve as a reminder that it’s important to listen. Actually, you should listen.

I was really busy this past week making things to sell, but in the process, I was ignoring my sense of inner solitude. I was on autopilot. Which really kinda burns you out. I didn’t stop to listen to my inner voice: that voice that says there are other creative things that not only need my attention, but feed me as a person, that round me out, make me whole. There were plants to water, stews to make, clothing to sew. And maybe now that I’m thinking about it, maybe some creatives are able to produce high value work fairly consistently because they recognize that perhaps there isn’t just that one thing that defines you. They approach life’s facets with the same heart, tenderness, and devotion that these things deserve. The very facets that make us whole. Honestly, they’re all pretty important. I love creating art just as much as I love taking care of my plants. I love to make a pot of soup as much as I love to put together fabrics for a new frock. These facets I think of in terms of tributaries that lead to the river that satisfies and sustains who I am. And this is important: doing one over the other shouldn’t make you feel guilty, on the contrary, if one thing needs your attention, you’re only answering what’s being asked of you by that inner voice who knows you so well.

Georgia wasn’t always alone, even when she was in New Mexico. But she was aware that occasions called for her to be alone, to engage in solitude. The amazing thing is look what she was able to produce, and look what kind of life she was able to live. Great things can come from solitude, leading to self reflection, self awareness, and strength. but only as a result of listening.

Thank you for stopping by

Jos