Ten things the child in you wants to tell you {about creating}

I'm linking up for the prompt, "ten", today over at Kate Motaung's place for Five Minute Friday, where we write for five minutes straight without fancy edits. Just writing for the fun of it. 

I've been taking an online mixed media course and for Five Minute Friday, I wanted to share a list of ten things I think my inner child has told me over these few weeks of creating. I'm not sure, but I'm thinking that you could use some reminders, too.

1.  That it’s perfectly okay to make mistakes. There are no mistakes really, only happy accidents. This little one inside of you knows this. Listen to him/her.

2. That the fun is in the exploring and trying new things. The fun is not in being perfect. Try saying, “what would happen if I_______________?

3.  Art heals and opens up my soul. The little child in you needs to be given permission to come out to play. Listen to those soul urges! And, create just for the joy of it.

4.  It’s good and right to be curious. 

5.  To look at life with eyes of creativity and maybe a little humor and lightheartedness.

6.  The child in you knows it’s never too late to create. Taking up acrylic painting or beadmaking in your 50’s? Heck yeah!

7.  Don’t be afraid to let go of outcomes. Letting go of how something is going to turn out is very freeing and frees up creativity that has gone stagnant or underground.

8.  Embrace the journey of art and creativity. Everything is a process. 

9.  You might not like your creation in the middle. Keep going.

10.  Listen to your intuition or soul whispers. Your soul is speaking. If you get a chance to get quiet. Listen to what the little eight year old in you would want to say. What they would want to tell you about what to create. You’ll hear those whispers and the creating will happen.

Thanks for stopping by for this list of ten things the child in you knows about creating.

Blessings to you, friend!

~Anne

for when you can't create

Linking up (a little late) with the brave writers over at Five Minute Friday, where we write for five minutes straight. No fancy edits. Just writing for the fun of it. Won't you come on over to Kate Motaung's place and join in? This week's prompt is "free". 


Have you ever felt like you'd like to create something and there was a big boulder sitting on your muse? Like a traffic blockade, the creative juices just won't run. They're stopped up like your stuffy nose with a cold (okay, maybe TMI).

This happened to me a few days ago. I sat down to paint. To create. I really wanted to. But, the negative gremlins were screaming loud. I couldn't figure it out.

"I love to paint," I said to myself.

"What is wrong with me? Why do I feel like crying instead?"


The voices said,

"you'll never be as good as ________________, so why bother?"

"you'll never be good enough to sell your art, so why bother?"

"who do you think you are?"

I know I'm not the first, nor the last to have these kind of voices screaming inside my head. Trying hard to convince me that I'm done as an artist (and feel like I've only just begun!) 

{They're}trying to tell me that I might as well hang up the artist hat and apron and brush because it's all a waste of time anyway.

So, I wiped my tears and got up from my creative space.  I went over to the chair where I do most all of my journaling and started writing. I figured that maybe if I started writing out my feelings, something might unearth. 

Some reason for the gremlins shouting loud.

And, you know what? Something did surface!

I had just recently had an art wound that I had already started to cover up with other negative and positive emotions.

Journaling. Writing. Freed me.
Freed me to sit down at my creative space again.

And, create with joy.

Thanks for stopping by today, friend! Blessings to you!

~Anne

Six important things I learned in June

Linking up with other writers over at Emily Freeman's blog for her "what we learned" link up! Taking time to share big things as well as the ridiculous and mundane. Come on over to see what other writers have learned in the month of June!


1.  The mixed media painting class I'm taking from kellyraeroberts.com is teaching me lots more than just how to paint. Here are a few things I've learned in this online class.

--let go of outcomes
--trust the process
--there are no mistakes, just happy accidents
--perfection isn't needed or welcomed
--be messy and have fun

a painting in midstroke

I've always had a hard time with ALL of these things, and who'd have thought an online painting class would challenge me in these exact areas!? I'm loving every minute of it. I'm learning to let little Anne get messy and have fun! Priceless learning in creativity and art.


2.  Just because you might get a great deal on a nice pair of sandals at the Bass Outlet, doesn't mean you will love them. From the moment I started wearing them, the left one (because of a cushy sole) started making a "whishing" noise with every step I took! I told my daughter and she promptly said, "Oh! You mean they're wheezing?"  

Great, my new sandals wheeze. So embarrassing. Now, the right one wheezes, too, so I guess it's balanced.

3.  My heartstrings are being tugged by a little red house outside the little town of Ljungby, Sweden. Oh, my heart! Read last Friday's post about it here.

4.  Our family has been catching up on all the Season One and Season Two episodes of Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. We've gotten angry together, worried about whether Sky was ever going to find her dad and mom, worried who might be dead, etc. 

We only have about four episodes left and then I think I'm going to go through withdrawls until September rolls around for Season Three. People, this is all the TV I watch, except occasionally the news and 60 Minutes!

5.  Inside Out is a movie for every. person. to. watch. I am not kidding. This is not a movie review, this is a plea. Not only is this movie funny and creative, but it will give you and your friends/family a whole new way to talk about your emotions. And, who doesn't need that in today's world? 

6.  When water is pouring into your basement window during a deluge of rain, and you don't own a mop??  Last week, we had a huge amount of rain and right about midnight, water started seeping, then gushing into a basement window. We have since discovered that this thing will likely happen if the gutter closest to the window is plugged with leaves. 

my son and daughter helping to mop

But, at midnight, we didn't think of fixing the gutter. All we could think of was get every towel in the house!! and I was thinking, we don't even have a MOP!! I have a Swiffer, but that isn't going to do anything to sop up leaking rain water! 

So, at 2:30am, my daughter got in the car to brave the roadways to get us a mop. As she went out the door I yelled, get two!
And, we needed every strand on each of those mops to soak up water. 

Lessons learned that night. 1) Make sure your gutters are clean, 2) make sure you have a real mop in your house.

Thanks for stopping by today, friends, to see what I learned in June!
And, Happy 4th of July!

~Anne

The little red house in the forest

I'm linking up today with other writers at Kate Motaung's blog for Five Minute Friday. Five minutes of free writing where the inner critic is checked at the door and writing is done with no edits and just for the fun of it. This week's prompt is dream.



I visited her exactly three different times in my life. 

My ages were 4, 11 and 42. 

She sits in the woods outside of the little village of Ljungby, Sweden. She's quaint. She seems like someplace from my dreams, but she happens to be very real. 

She's so special that an artist painted her portrait some years ago.

Weddings were performed in front of her with wedding photos included. Yes, she's in many wedding photos. She stands quiet, but proud.

You see, she played with the children as they grew up. 

Inga-Britt, Roland, Marianne and Birger were the children who ran up and down her stairs, slept in her beds, ran in her yard and under her trees. 

They chased the squirrels and picked lingonberries in the forest surrounding her. 

She still sits in the same place. 

Little Osterlund. 

Her children that ran around her have all since grown.

The boys grew into men, but have passed on from this life many years ago.

The little girls grew into fine young women, and married in front of the little house. They had children and grandchildren and even great grandchildren of their own.

Those little girls turned grandmothers each passed from this life in the last two weeks.

The little red house remembers all the laughter. She remembers all the love. She remembers the souls of this family who were born and lived and died all loving one another within her walls.

Little Osterlund.

{The oldest boy in this story is my father. The two girls are my aunts who each passed away in the last couple of weeks. My heart grieves the passing of this generation and my story is a tribute to my father, uncle and my two aunts who grew up in this small home in Sweden.}

Thanks for stopping by to read about a special little red house.

Blessings to you, friend!

~Anne

(my full name is Anne Britt, I am named after my two aunt's in this story, Marianne and Inga-Britt. I am so proud of that fact!)

Repeat after me.

Today is Five Minute Friday where a tribe of writers take five minutes out of their busy schedules and write about a topic that Kate Motaung chooses for us! No fancy edits. Just writing for five minutes from the heart. Come on over to Kate's place to see how to join in! This week's prompt is "world".

GO.

I’ve been doing a lot of talking to myself lately. You know. The good and the bad. Sometimes the bad wins out and gets me into all kinds of trouble.

Thoughts have energy in the body, did you know that? There have been experiments done on that and thoughts either have negative or positive energy and we get to choose.

That is another amazing thought.

We get to choose our thoughts.

Sometimes it is SO HARD and it seems like something or someone else inside my own head is choosing those negative thoughts for me. But, you know what? It’s my own thoughts that I, myself, are choosing for good or for bad.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how my own mental and emotional health is tied greatly to my physical health. (I think about this almost constantly..) That’s why I’ve written so much on “soul care” and taking “soul spas” for ourselves.

 It’s only when we take the time to think about

 this body, soul, spirit connection 

that we can truly be healthy.

So, I”ve got an exercise for you.

Here goes.

Repeat after me. 

“I am worthy.”

“I carry the divine light of God within me, because I’m created by Him.”

“I can do anything and go anywhere I want to. Only my thoughts limit me.”

“I am loved.”

“I forgive myself for not believing I am worthy and loved.”

“I give myself permission to love and accept myself.”

"I am one of a kind in this world. There is no one else like me. I am unique."

STOP.

Thanks for stopping by today, friend! I pray that you will take the time to do these simple affirmations. It makes a huge difference in our thoughts to say positive, truthful and uplifting words to ourselves.

Blessings to you!

~Anne

my best gift

I was three years old when I received my best gift. I remember the room well. It had beige and tan tile floors (not beautiful). It had low wooden tables that had Formica tops so as to protect them from little hands' coloring mistakes. 

There were little, miniature wooden chairs with the curved backs with rungs. I could sit there in my little dress, all dressed up with my patent leather black buckle shoes just touching the floor with my tippy toes.

My Sunday School teachers had dresses on and their hair was done up with lots of hair spray. 

This was the 60’s after all. 

Oh, were my teachers sweet. I don’t remember lots of details about the lessons on the flannel graph. But, my teachers' voices were soft and gentle, not harsh. 

They taught me about Jesus and Peter and the other disciples that followed Jesus and wanted to be like him. They taught me about God’s love and grace. I’m not sure I grasped what grace was in my 3^rd year of life, but I think I knew what love was, at least I was beginning to know it.

It was in my Sunday school teacher’s eyes.

Before I graduated from three year old Sunday school, I received a gift. For some odd reason all these 49 years later I still have it in a drawer. I received a small black New Testament with my name in it: 

Anne Britt Yvonne Oberg. And the date.

It was from my Sunday school teachers in my preschool class. I will never forget them, nor the gifts they gave me that year.

***************************************************

Thanks for joining in memory lane today, friends!

What's the greatest gift you've been given?

Blessings to you,

~Anne

(nostalgia queen. Jesus girl. hairspray lover)

---linking up today with Kate Motaung and other writers (a little late) for Five Minute Friday. Here, we're free to write unedited for five minutes straight on a prompt chosen by Kate the night before. This week's prompt is the word, "gift". Come on over to Kate's place to find out what other writers wrote and to join in!!

the other side of the un-doing {beauty from chaos}

The layers go on the canvas one at a time. One on top of the other. Then, the abuse and destruction begins. 

Each layer is approached with the idea that it can be completely destroyed to create beauty. 

Beauty from chaos and destruction.

water drops
scraping 
overlays
scratching
covering over with new materials

Each layer gets its own treatment. It may be painful for each layer, but the purpose is "keeping the end in mind." 

The purpose is destruction for the greater beauty that will unfold in the end.

Life is kind of like that. 

Layer on top of layer our life experiences accumulate and pile on top of each other. Some of these layers bring beauty. And, some we feel might destroy us.

But, as we go through each layer of life experience, we are changed into a new person. Each change or event leaves us different, not the same person we were before it. 

We are transformed.

Sometimes this feels like destruction. Like it will undo us. In the end though, if we persevere and get to the other side of the un-doing, our beauty emerges as sure as the sun peeking through the clouds after a spring rain. We begin to see tiny sparks of beauty, creativity and courage. 

We begin to hope.

We start to see that we've gone through a door and we wont be going back. We don't want to, because we are changed for the better through this process. 

It's been compared to a butterfly emerging out of a chrysalis, or an onion being peeled back to reveal new and fresh layers.

So, too, each layer of our life that is exposed through harsh circumstances has the potential to make us shine in new ways. If we let it. 

Beauty emerges from the ashes of what we thought would destroy.
I've seen it happen and I know it will happen again.

Thanks for stopping by today, friend!

Blessings to you,

~Anne

linking up today with others at Coffee for Your Heart and Three Word Wednesday.