Tag Archives: writing

Journal dreaming…

I went a bit mad on journals while I was away…I found so many that I fell in love with… I will be putting some on the website soon, but here they are on our Pinterest site, if you would like a sneak preview…just click on the link below…

https://www.pinterest.com/BlackBoxArt/black-box-art-studio/

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Bored of the inspiration board…

inspiration board

It was time for a change. My studio inspiration board had gotten very cluttered, very colourful, very chaotic…full of images, colours, words, photos, and kids art. It was busy and bright and bold. But mostly busy!

But instead of feeling inspired, I started to feel cluttered and crowded. I wanted space to think. I wanted less, not more. So I took it all down, without thinking or reviewing, or analysing any particular item. I put them in a suitcase with my other papers.  Then I put back up six items. Not six on purpose, just because these six images felt right for right now.

None of the images on the board are mine. One is a beloved print brought in Wellington a few years back that had been rolled up in a drawer  – a watercolour sketch of a hummingbird. Another is a postcard of Paris – both for my dreams to go there one day, and also because it was from a dear friend. Another image is a magazine advertisement image that I like. The final blue image is a photo of the sea found in yet another magazine. The blues are intoxicating beautiful and a reminder of the inherent beauty in nature and beaches.

My “Start Something” paper mantra returned to the wall (as always) and finally, I added the brochure from the “One” exhibition – held in 2013, as a reminder of my past achievements and future plans.

When I look at the wall, I feel optimistic and calm and I can hear myself think. Right now, I like that.

Sometimes inspiration boards need a little inspiration too!


Sorry is the hardest word.

sorry

Why is it so dam’n hard to say I am sorry? It is such a short little sentence.

It shouldn’t be so hard…. Especially to say to those we love. Yet it seems hardest then.

Maybe the roses, greenery and rosemary picked from our garden, tied in a bow and left for them to find, will help me to say the three hardest words to say…I am sorry.

 


The romance of roses…is it dead?

red roses

As you know, I love roses. I love them even when they are dying, like these ones. There is something beautiful, yet slightly macabre about gorgeous red roses in their final stages of bloom.

Maybe it’s a cliché but roses really are like a metaphor for love in real life….first, the precious rose-bud like the thrill of new romantic love, then there is the full blown blooming gorgeousness of long-life-together-kind-of-love represented by roses in full bloom. Then, finally the graceful and bitter-sweet love found in appreciating something and thinking it beautiful through its final stages of life, while decaying and dying…somehow fragile yet still achingly beautiful. I am sure a poet wrote about it….


Mind the gap..

Mind the gap

A creative writing piece.  The theme: Mind the gap…

Mind the gap. Follow the rules. Read the map. Follow the masses. Follow the crowds. Mind the gap and sit next to a stranger instead. Smile at them. Mind the gap between the station where you are meant to get off the train and the one where you do actually get off, just so you can keep talking to that person you have just met but feel you have known a lifetime.

Mind the gap between your toes, between your teeth, the gap between us (counted in years, tears, miles or smiles) the gap between your fat jeans and your skinny ones. The gap between hair-colouring weeks when the silver reminds you that you really truly are over 40. Over the hill, never mind the gap.

The gawky gap between childhood and adulthood…fifteen is an age of just in between, no immature habits should even be seen, stop playing with that toy, you’re being a child, act like an adult, now go to your room and No, you can’t call that boy.

The gap between like and lust…between only just losing and being crushed. The gap between a little white lie and the god awful truth. The gap between friends that once were and your real friends.  The gap between mothers and daughters, fathers and sons, mothers and sons, fathers and daughters…the gap between feeling fear and doing it anyway, between trusting your instincts and ignoring others, the gap between knowing what you need to do and actually doing it.

Mind the gap between you and those you hold close. Mind that gap the most, pay attention to cracks, even minor ones, close the gap when it gets too big, build a bridge if you have too, and stuff the gap full of love whenever you can.

Mind the gap. The end.

 

 

 

 


Happenstance…

happenstance

 

Happenstance, meaning Chance: A chance circumstance or chance encounter.

Meeting someone and in an instance feeling like you have spent your whole life waiting for them, or having an unexpected experience that changes the planned trajectory of your life – that’s Happenstance and it  requires being brave and open to new experiences. .

But happenstance (chance) gets a bad rap these days… “Don’t talk to strangers. Don’t take unnecessary risks. Plan everything. Be organised. Be consistent. Take the low risk option. Play it safe. Take the safe route. Be reliable, etc…” 

But there comes a time for most of us when you just have to follow your heart. Sometimes you have to follow your gut instinct. Or trust a complete stranger. Or take a different path from everyone else. Or offer a stranger assistance. Or do something that really isn’t rational or sensible but somehow makes sense to you in that moment.

Sometimes life really does change direction on the strength of a comment, a glance, a missed train, while waiting at a bus stop, with a strangers smile or a kind offer. Happenstance. My latest word for my collection of words, quotes & musings. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


A thought on personal and individual style.

symbols in home

What is individual style? I have been thinking about this and have come up with a few thoughts about it. To me personal style transcends your home, your studio, your art, your creative endeavours. They are all just manifestations of your style. Your style is you. It is what makes you a unique person on this planet. Style is a reflection of your genuine self, your expression of who you are. Style is understanding who you are and being extremely at ease with that.

Your personal style is partly what others see, it is your art and your creations, your thoughts expressed, your home, and your community. As I think about this I see images from my home, my art, my studio and my journals – all different but threads of the same things – old symbols (hearts, circles, crosses), text and use of letters and words, old patina’s and vintage finds. Trees, beaches, bridges, buildings, houses all feature in my style, as does finding old nests, collecting sea-glass, rocks and shells, quirky finds and birds, horses, growing food, and history all interest me. Writing musings, journalling and playing with mixed media, painting big abstract paintings and trying to do photography everyday are my style. Noticing things others might miss and finding beauty in everyday things are my style. My style is thinking in interconnected circles but writing in bullet points.

Your style is also how you live. Being a mum to four kids will always be my first priority. That’s my style too. Like many of us, I am juggling everyday – the divergent needs and demands of a large complicated and blended family, working to earn income, running, and try to find space in my day to create, fitting in all the other messy stuff in between, that’s my style too.

I am a mother to three boys rapidly moving into that strange place between being men and boys, and one 4 year old princess fairy. A writer and keen blogger. I am a runner. I am a photographer. I am an artist. I am creative. I dream of Italy and of visiting Europe one day. I dream of living closer to the land, but also (ironically) closer to the city centre and so I can smell and hear the sea. I dream of my three sons as babies and wonder at their journey into being young men. I love my pink, sparkly princess who has in a thousand different ways saved me from myself through this process with her enormous smiles, delicious cuddles and piles of charm, giggles and songs. All of this, is part of me.

What has running got to do with style? Running is very much apart of who I am now, after I put on my trainers one year ago exactly and ran to the first lamp post then walked the next two. I run to clear my mind, to think straight, to have my body hurt in a good way. I run so no one can see tears occasionally. I run to have a few precious moments when no-one needs me. Running gives me space to plan, dream and plot. It takes time but it also makes me more creative and more efficient. I also see things that I don’t see when driving or distracted by tasks and errands. They are all part of my style.

Is style is the only thing you have left when you strip everything back to its barest state. Or is style is an individual and original point of view delivered with confidence? Or, the culmination of all the parts of a life brought together? Or is style really just having curiosity, a sense of spirit and confidence in yourself?


January meanderings…

yellow flower

I saw these unusual flowers, like big bright yellow round blobs of sunshine on the end of bendy sticks waving in the grasses while out on a walk recently. Yellow is not my favourite colour but they were so unusual, having no leaves or petals and so brilliant yellow, that I had to stop and admire them in their coastal garden.

Yellow, to me means transformation. I don’t really know why, but when I see yellow, I think of change. Maybe its from the years I spent in Canada and the yellow of leaves representing the changing seasons? Whatever the reason, I have been thinking about change a lot.

I realised this week, that I can not really call myself an artist, having not painted in over a year. I have dabbled in creating some mixed media pieces, but really apart from my journals, photography and writing, I haven’t really created anything of note. Worse of all, my art room – my studio – has sat empty, neglected and abandoned for most of 2013. It had turned into a dumping ground for all sorts of unwanted stuff (and not in an eclectic, interesting, creatively inspiring kind of way, but more a “I don’t want to set foot in there” kind of space)…it was a sorry sight – curtains closed, cobwebs taking over, and boxed piled up…. That I had not used it in such a long time really shook me. So yesterday, in a fit of new year/new attitude, I emptied it, cleaned it, sorted it and only put back in those treasures that inspire me. I turned it into “my space” again…a space to create (although I have packed my paints away) and to write.

There is a story to be told, a thread that runs through my blogging – a story about change…about life turning out not quite how you expect, and about a dream and a search for a more creative/more inspired life and this is the year it happens. There may be less art in the way of painting this new year, but I think there will be plenty of photography, writing, running, and musings on life, love, inspiration in the everyday, raising kids and all the messy bits in between.


Thank you!!!

Thank you, thank you! I have just reached over 10,000 views of my blog!
10,056 to be exact! Thank you fellow bloggers/readers and supporters of my blog about art, photography and my musings on creative inspiration, life, art and the messy bits in between. I really do appreciate your support!

You made my day. It’s not about the number, but it does seem like a milestone and worthy of recognition. It’s real people like you that made it so and keep me blogging when I wonder why I am sometimes…

Heartfelt thanks from me to you,

Angela


Pausing to smell the roses…

spring blossoms in my garden

Creativity ebbs and flows, it shifts and moves. Sometimes you think you have none left. Not a single idea. Writers call it “writer’s block”. That frustrating space when nothing seems new, a blank page seems daunting, ideas seem stupid, and life seems to takeover – days go by and you realise that the most creative thing you have done is write a grocery list…

Then  after a pause, creativity flows again. I used to worry that my creativity had “gone” somewhere – possibly never to return again, but now I know that these pauses are just that – pauses…

I now trust that I will burst forth again after a period of creative down time…with renewed spirit, fresh plans, ideas and new creative thoughts. Like the spring roses that follow winters bare branches, we too have to trust that we will burst into inspired creativeness again. 

Roses in my garden today – enjoy!

 


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