Love & Glitter

I've moved to The Glitterhood!!

http://theglitterhood.com

If you are subscribed via email, no worries! The feed has been transfered. xo

Ten Steps Forward, Five Steps Back

Yesterday was MAHOOSIVELY AWESOME in so many ways, I stopped counting at fifty. I do this thing these days where every time something GOOD happens, I write it down. It's Andrea Schroeder's fault, really. She recommends this in her Creative Dream Incubator, and while I usually REFUSE TO DO HOMEWORK, I was compelled to take this practice up.

I'm so glad I did.

Something is happening. Shifting. My awareness is no longer sucked into the vortext of OMG DOOM as easily as it once was. Shit happens, and more often than not, I find myself shrugging. Okay, well, whatevs. What juicy bit of HAPPY can I find in the next ten minutes?

It's not denial. Denial feels all jaw clenched and taking it. Imagine me dressed in a kilt, wielding a sword, covered in blue woad paint...THAT'S it. Right there. Visual sweet spot. This feels like freedom. FREEDOM! FREEEEEEDOM!

***

Today is NOT one of those days. It's an anxiety day. I'm all "OMG DOOM" despite my best efforts to curb it. I think I need to move my body or something. Move that adrenaline out of the blood stream. Sweat it out. And I will. But I wanted to make note of this:

Change happens in fits and starts. 

(Effyone, are you listening?)

It's all ten steps forward and five steps back. 

And that's okay. I can be gentle with myself. I can let myself do this dance without self-recrimination because I am unfolding as I meant to. Some of my conditioning is really stubborn. Some of it has taken decades to unravel. I can TRUST that it will unravel in good time, but not if I bludgeon myself over the head about not unraveling it fast enough. It's unraveling as it should. I can trust that. 

I know why I'm anxious and I'm doing my best to fix it but it is something that isn't within my control. (I HATE THAT!) I am afraid I upset someone without even knowing when or how. I am filling in the blanks where silence is. I am all "WHAT DID I DO?" 

Probably nothing. 

But triggery girl is triggery, and I need to roll with it when the anxiety kicks in. No amount of talking myself out of it works. Movement helps. Arting helps. Self-care (of the EXTREME rose absolute in the bath water, candlelight, chocolate and soothing music variety) helps. 

This lovely meditation helps to. In the spirit of inviting the flow of goodness and ease and relaxation back into my anxiety addled body, I want to share it with you. 

 

I'm off to soak in rose absolute and then I'm going to art this out. <3

UPDATE

See, Effyone? It was totally nothing. *grins sheepishly and goes about her day* 

Bawdess

I streamed live on Sunday and I totally intended to blog about it on Monday, but life got away from me and left me in a scrambling rush to catch up! But I'm here today, so let me tell you about The Bawdess. 

I run an on line art journaling group called Book Of Days that has a Facebook Group designed to allow those of us who want more connection that an e-mailed video allows to commune.

And boy do we commune. 

There is something special about this group. I've been in a lot of groups over the last couple of years, but I have never seen anything like this. The members are playful, authentic, trustworthy, trusting, openhearted, and so willing to share. Many of them are deeply spiritual but from such a diverse range of spiritual systems that it boggles the mind. We are like the UN of spirituality. We have impromptu parties, throw a lot of love and glitter around, and step in to listen, encourage, support and lift up our 'sisterhood'. We send one another snail mail. Lots and lots of snail mail. We celebrate one another's birthdays with cutesy videos. 

Some people might sneer at the thought of an on line sisterhood, but this *is* that. Even when we disagree, we disagree with respect and civil discourse and love, love, love. If one of us is having a hard time, the sisterhood flocks to love on them in virtual and actual ways. 

It is all about the love. And the glitter. And the gesso.

So, on Sunday I decided I wanted to paint the group energy. I wanted to find a way to tangibly represent what this group's energy feels like. When I was done, we named her:

Bawdess, The Goddess Of The Glitterhood. 

Here she is: 

I'll have a much better scan of her available for The Glitterhood to download as wallpaper or BOD fodder soon.

Here are the archived videos that feature her creation

 Part One: The Background

Video streaming by Ustream

 Part II The Portrait

Video streaming by Ustream

So much fun. 

We're not really big on 'recruiting'. It's a tight knit group and we like it that way. But if you are the kind of person who loves to play, who enjoys an atmosphere devoid of criticism, who wants to feel a sense of connection with women of like mind, you might really enjoy hanging out with us. 

Go here for the deets.

Love & Glitter,

Effy 

I Work For You

So, I got an "I'm subbing because I thought this was going to be fun but it's all about how messed up you are" message this morning.

I expected more than one after my raw, blubbery, in your face video of Friday's fame, but truth be told, it was the one and only one I got out of dozens of messages of appreciation and support. 

Fences were mended. Healing happened. People I *never* expected to hear from reached out with grace, which was not my intention at all, but felt like a nice little side of gravy on my already deliciously full plate of happy.

It feels like a little test. A little ball thrown by the Universe. So, Effy? You gonna walk that talk? 

Because, listen: it was not a necessary message, right? The unsubscribe link is right there. She (and she was a perfect stranger) could have just clicked it and voila! No more 'messed up Effy' in her inbox. I would have been perfectly within my right to hit reply and say something like "Was this necessary? Was it kind? Did you have to rain on my epiphany?"

But that's not how I *felt* about it. How I felt about it came in slow waves through my body as I reflected on how I should respond, and it was something like "Wow...well...obviously I don't work for you.  I'm happy you're going to find something that does!"

And I *really* meant it. 

Where once I would have shriveled up into a ball of shame and crawl off somewhere to die, this morning all I could think was "bless you". 

Messed up or not, I'll tell you this for nothing: I like who I'm becoming and I'm really glad that my way of being filters out the people who don't enjoy, need, or want what I'm doing in the world and draws closer those who do. 

I work for you. ♥

Coffee?

:)

In other news, I'm streaming live this afternoon at 1 p.m. EST. I have NO IDEA what I'm doing today. I'm going to let the spirit of Awen have it's way with me, but I bet you dollars to donuts that love and glitter will make it's way into the days program. 

Friday With Effy #4 ~ Forgiveness = Freedom

 

What's on my mind today: 

If I have wronged you or hurt you, I am always open to respectful dialogue about it. In the same breath as I am willing to acknowledge my mistakes and make amends, I extend myself in love and empathy for anyone who has ever wronged me. 

We are all on a journey that sometimes leaves us ragged. We all struggle with our stuff. I get that sometimes we (meaning me, too) behave in ways that leave much to be desired. If you believe you have ever wronged me: you are totally forgiven. The slate is wiped clean. 

This isn't about drama, loves. This is about fearless moral inventories ~ the taking of them and the acknowledgement that we fail. We always will. But love prevails. It always does.

Out Of The Comfort Zone and Into The Creative Fire

I spent yesterday Life Booking. (I love verbing nouns!) Between BOD and my other commitments, I have been having trouble finding the time to just sit down and play, but yesterday, I had a little tantrum (not really), groomed two of the four dogs (which took many hours of hunching over little fur balls and weilding sharp scissors on squirming creatures), and then abandoned all else in favour of doing Tam's second lesson (week six). 

It was paint over collage. The first time I attempted this (during 21 Secrets one session), I failed miserably. I didn't wait until the magazine image was dry after gluing it down, see? I just went all hog wild with the clear gesso thinking I was brilliant!

Well, I didn't try again that time because failure didn't sit too well with me. I went and did something I knew I could do without failure ~ kind of like a balm to my bruised ego. 

I don't do that anymore. I prefer to push through now days because I find the lessons stick with me far more firmly than they do when I throw my hands up and move on to something 'easier'. 

Anyway...it worked beautifully this time and I have pictures to prove it.

The 'before shot'. This is a picture of Maggie Gyllenhaal torn out of an O magazine. 

And this is what I did with it. Too. Much. Fun

Here's her adorable little face. 

It took me a couple of hours because I was working WAY outside my comfort zone, but this is what I'm learning these days:

Right? :)

So I signed up for Andrea Schroeder's Creative Dream Incubator. Did you know she's now offering it as a moduled class? In other words, you can buy module one, work through it at your own pace, and then when you're ready, buy module two. I'm really liking this option because I like to work at my own pace, and someone, buying it a module at a time eliminates the pressure to work it 'weekly' or all at once, or in a mad rush. 

There is no rush. I bought one module. When I'm ready, I can buy the second. 

Awesomesauce. 

I read the PDF this morning (I do that ~ read the whole thing first, and then work through it) and there was something in there that blew my mind. Essentially, Andrea taught me (in about two seconds) that I get to choose my experience. I get to decide what I focus on. I don't have to succumb to the negativity I might find around me. 

I knew this in my head. (You know what I mean by that, right?)

But the trickle down hadn't yet happened so that what I know in my head becomes integrated into my way of being...

...and she fixed that, too with a little exercise that I'm going to be incorporating into my daily life. 

***

In the meantime, I commissioned a journal from the AMAZINGLY talented Pippa Gore (who also happens to be one of my favourite people) and lookit what she did:

Can you imagine anything more perfect for me?

Gah. So freaking happy. Life is good. 

Just a quick heads up! I'm streaming today at 1 p.m. EST. I hope to see you there. xo

 

 

Today Was...

Visual Poetry a la Effy

Friday With Effy #3

BOD2012 ~ Week Fourteen ~ MDS from Effy Wild on Vimeo.

Password: effylovesyou

I arted my face off this week, and this video of what I did in my BOD on Tuesday through Friday is the least of it. I'm having a blast, though, and I'm very happy to be YouTubing again! 

My Live Art Stream Schedule 

There will be a live art stream this coming Sunday April 8th, 2012 at 1 p.m. EST at Wild Soul Art Stream. I hope to see you there! 

A Note On BOD

If you'd like to get the whole shebang including the newsletter, member coupons and discounts, Monday's 'full spread' videos,  The Sisterhood of The Book Facebook Group, the happy mail program, assorted swaps (current: prayer flag and Heart-To-Heart), our yearly book club, and my other musings, please sign up for Book Of Days. There is a whole lot more to be had when you do, and there's a free and premium programme! xo 

 

Persephone (w/VIDEO)

Persephone is very much alive for me right now in the dance the earth is doing with the sun. I love her story and her symbols. Seeds. Pomegranates. The descent to the Underworld and the return. The mother (Demeter) who grieves for her and in her grief witholds her gifts from the world until her daughter is returned to her once more. 

I went hunting for Persephone poems tonight and found a few that really rocked my world. They were all found in this extraordinarily fine poetry quarterly that I'd never heard of but stumbled across in my search. I believe the title of the quarterly comes from a poem called "The Goblin Market" by Christina Rosetti ~ one of the first poems I read out loud for the sheer joy of the words on my tongue, and the first poem that made me cry the ugly, snotty, red faced cry that one prefers to cry in private. 

Serendipity feels spring-like, doesn't it? 

Let me explain. 

I am a blocked poet. A lot of you have read that in my bio. I started arting because I couldn't write, and prior to the block, writing had been the way I got through *everything*. Having no outlet, no means of creative expression was *killing me* and if you think I'm kidding, I'm not. I was so depressed I could barely get out of bed. It was the winter of my discontent. I was Demeter in those dark days, grieving, only I felt that the gifts associated with Spring ~ inspiration, new beginnings, poems ~ were being denied to me. 

In pursuit of a deeper understanding of the divine feminine inspired by my experience in The Red Madonna, I recently went looking for some poems I'd written that I *thought* were about people in my life, but realized were actually about The Mother/Sister/Crone. A few tweaks, and yes. These were poems about longing, about wanting, about women, about sisterhood, about the divine. The *very week* I did this, I got notification about the monthly Red Madonna call in which we were invited to read our own writings. 

How do you say no when the Universe comes knocking in such an obvious way?

You don't.

So, I swilled two glasses of CabSauv, and I got on that call, and I lit a candle, and I read.

Here they are. As an aside, I write as 'F. Stuart' and have since 1997. 

This Is What It Is To Want                          

As though it's spring and I hear water
lick my lips, prepare my mouth to open wider.

As though sense receives a hint of herbal green
in the last white days  of dying winter.

As though heat hovers over what is cold;
lit match over wick, 
winged mother over egg
or open, wanting beak.

As though there is no water near,
winter is new, 
the match won't flare to life and 

the mother bird, fallen, flightless, 
is silent, 
empty bone and feather.

As if she always was, went from me
and is returning.

As if she never was, never,
and is now beginning.

©F. Stuart 

 ***

Magdalene's Mirror                                                  

Unlike silver on glass
giving back
only what crosses the face;

clenched jaw, nod, smile, furrow.

She is black ink in water
three a.m. river
sipped Shiraz in the
lupine hour.

Not cheaply bought

in press board gilt frame.

Magadalene’s mirror.
Dreamed of sister.
Under skin twin.

©F. Stuart

***

Remembering that I once wrote, that I could write, that I may write again brought me into stark awareness of the return of Persephone in my life. She just arrived, holding a pomegranate and offering the juice as ink, beckoning me to take a taste, wiping her mother's grieving eyes. 

Here's the video

 

A thousand thank-yous to JournalArtista who demonstrated the stencil technique I used to create the background, and to Shiloh McCloud who is teaching me oodles about painting stylized, iconic portraits. 

Supplies Used
(wherever possible, I link to my source for these products) 

Strathmore Visual Journal 9 x 12
Frog Tape (great masking tape that seals against acrylic paint)
Liquitex Basics paint
Stencil by Julie Fei Fan Balzer (purchased from The Art House Store)
Baby wipes. :D
Dylusions by Dyan Reavely
Stewart Gill Paint
Copic Multiliner 
Floral stamp by Donna Downey
Pan Pastels
Archival ink in black by Ranger
Sakura Gelly Roll (metallic) 

Music by my 'art-to-guy', Anugama. 

Inspiration provided by Persephone and her glorious return from the Underworld. Thanks, Hades. We'll send her back soon. xo

Oprah Saved My Life & Julee Described It. (with Video)

I had this amazing experience this morning. I got up, got my coffee and sat down to check e-mail. I had a lovely e-mail from Julee Herman about the video I produced for Book of Days on Monday.

She said:

I loved this one, Effy!

I was talking to the screen... looking a bit nutter I'm sure... I love flopportunities! Here's the thing, once you "mess it up" you now have automatic permission to push it as far as you can and wouldn't dare with a piece you were afraid to wreck. You get to GO for it!

I swooned. 

Because that sentence there? The one about messing up and the having automatic permission to push it as far as you can?

That's how I have lived, and I couldn't have told you that until I read that letter from the gorgeous Julee. 

This is what occurred to me: 

For the first thirty plus years of my life, I was in 'clean up the mess' mode. In my childhood, obviously, I was not responsible for the mess, but I was sure made to feel like I was. I spent the first 20 years of my life trying to adapt to my (crazy) surroundings, trying to 'fit in', trying to make the people around me happy. I was a poster child for the story about how abused girls who are raised by addicts (and their codependents) go on to enter abusive relationships with addicts in their adulthood. 

I'm aware that some people get stuck in that cycle. I know people who never moved passed victimhood. I know people who, having been abused, perpetuate the cycle of abuse either by living in untenable, abusive relationships or by becoming abusive themselves. I've seen it a thousand times.

But I was lucky. I had Oprah. (Not kidding!) She came into my living room every day and told me what happens to abused girls (and so I woke up). She told me about adult children of alcoholics. She showed me what is possible. 

So I didn't settle for where I was at. I marched my ass to therapy in 1992, and though I still made horrible messes of my life by making really bad choices, I was growing in awareness. Ever growing. Ever stretching for that place beyond the limitations I was conditioned to accept. 

Even now, my life isn't easy. I'm reactive, socially very awkward, I drink too much sometimes to medicate ennui or anxiety (and sometimes both at the same time). I have a hard time leaving my head in favour of actual, embodied life. I am triggered easily and can go from fine to despair in the time it takes to smell something that takes me back to...

Well, let me be straight with you. (TRIGGER ALERT)

....watching my father beat my mother in drunken rages. 

....experiencing neglect and deep loneliness when my father left and my mother checked out emotionally.

....being orally and digitally raped and sodomized, used in child pornography, lent to my abusers friend, and beaten between the legs for a few years after I turned five. 

....being blamed for the abuse in covert and overt ways. 

....being that kid who dressed funny and was so obviously eager for teachers to like her that she alienated her peers and was bullied (and 'beaten up') throughout her school career. 

....being little more than a sexual object to my first spouse, and a punching bag for my second (and third, and so on...the relationship that I'm in now is the *first* relationship in which I have not suffered any kind of physical abuse or sexual violation. The first.)

....living through the suicide of a sibling and the resulting 'survivour's guilt' ~ something I still struggle with to this day...

***

When you come from that, you have a few choices. You can succumb and let life beat you. You can identify with your abuser and become an abuser. You can stuff it all into a tight little space within you and become an automaton ~ someone who plays a role and goes through the motions, but never really lives. You can drink or drug yourself to death or suicide (my sister opted for that route). You can stay in your victimhood and blame every awful thing that happens to you *after you have the power to choose* on everyone else. 

Or you can "...push it as far as you can and wouldn't dare with a piece (life) you were afraid to wreck."

I was already a wreck. I was about as wrecked as a person can get. And I saw in that fact *permission* to push. I had to let go of most of my family of origin. I became 'too much' for a lot of people and lost them. I struggled with depression and post traumatic stress disorder and self-loathing and self-mutilation and love addiction (codependence)...

But I kept pushing.

Because, really? What the fuck else was I going to do? Stay where I was? Oprah said I could have a different life, and I *believed her*. 

So I kept pushing. 

And when Jul described my process in this video in the specific and perfect way she described it, I realized that I had played out how I have lived my life in my art journal. Confront the mess. Do not deny it. Work with what you have. Push. Keep pushing until you're where you want to be. 

I may still be a bit googly eyed, a bit wonky, but listen: I am a long way from where I started and I have half my life to keep working on it. 

(Thank you, Oprah. Thank you, Julee)

Here's a time lapsed version of the video Julee was responding to: