I’m still spinning from the 4 days I spent in New Hampshire at Squam Art Workshops. I was inspired by so many beautiful people. I took three classes- Songwriting with Jonatha Brooke, a collage class called Making your Mark with Lisa Occhipinti, and a photography class called Through the Viewfinder with Andrea Jenkins. I learned something valuable in each class and I got the opportunity to unleash a whole lot of pent up creativity, too!
It was such a pleasure to take a class with Jonatha Brooke, who’s music I have been listening to for many years. I’ve had this song (she played for us!) stuck in my head since the retreat.
I think I probably was one of the more quiet people in the class.. a bit overwhelmed and trying to take it all in. Don’t get me wrong, it was a totally safe and fun environment. I think I was just very nervous about trying to write anything, much less a song that was going to be sung (by me!) in front of the class. Despite all that scary stuff, I did it! I learned a ton and I jumped some personal hurdles. It was pretty amazing.
(Jonatha has a few more photos on her journal page.)
I’ve been gone from Seattle for almost month, traveling across the country to visit the people I know and love. I’ve even met more fantastic and inspiring people along the way. I’ve been challenged and refreshed, awakened and renewed- ready to get back to my life, create and make good.
In New Hampshire I attended an art workshop (more on that later), and met so many wonderful women who have inspired me endlessly. Many of them are very active in the blog world. I’ve been a bit of a slacker in this regard, and would be surprised if I still have any readers. Here’s my written promise to give it another go. I hope to share some of the magic that has rubbed off on me over the past month. It might take me many days to get it all out. Stick with me. :)
As of late, I’ve been suffering from a constant state of vertigo. It’s just starting to go away, which is great. It’s unlike any sensation I’ve ever experienced before. It’s a dizzy, falling, sideways, spin. It’s wild. Like coming off a rollercoaster. (I don’t like rollercoasters).
Just as my body wants to be pulled down, I am aching to live again. I am convinced, after all these years of experiencing the same thing, that the winter brings me down. I hate to think that a silly thing like sun (Vitamin D is so silly, right?) would affect me so, but it’s true. Sun brings life. Even though it has been snowing in Seattle within the past week, I can feel my winter blues beginning to melt away.
I was reading “The Unbearable Lightness of Being” by Milan Kundera last week, and came upon this passage:
Anyone whose goal is “something higher” must expect someday to suffer vertigo. What is vertigo? Fear of falling? Then why do we feel it even when the observation tower comes equipped with a sturdy handrail? No, vertigo is something other than the fear of falling. It is the voice of the emptiness below us which tempts and lures us, it is the desire to fall, against which, terrified, we defend ourselves.
