Is there anything more beautiful than a painted book? My heart loves paint and paper bound into a book more than just about anything. This class was titled, "A Handmade Life" and focused on the journal, our words and paintings, collage and dreams all spread out in joyous color as a daily meditation on chance, hope, play and survival.
Our goal is to reach deep inside ourselves and find that place where we are children, playing with abandon, celebrating the newness of existence. Celebrating our one, precious life.
Is there anyone who does not love to pick up a brush and make a mark? Certainly there is no child who refuses the task. They take to it like ducks to water.
We painted and collaged houses for our hearts to live in. Secretive, hidden-away places where no one can enter unless we say.
We don't ask anyone for permission. We give ourselves permission. We are each the boss, the one who decides what is good for us and what is beautiful.
Here is where health, happiness and liberty begins. This I believe. We are creators. We must keep that conduit open or we become sad and perhaps ill.
We have words, colors and emotions to express. Every culture does it. We surround ourselves with beauty. But most of all we love to make things.
Our brains love riddles, complexity, diversity and solutions. When we stir these components into our lives we are happier and more content.
Music and fragrance and color and love and touching and trust and friendship. The art of living life so that we live each day in fulfillment instead of pain.
This is why we gather together to learn to walk the path of kindness and inclusion. So that everyone is encouraged, lifted, loved and heard. My heart is full.