mine is a desire for internal geographies

Call me what you will, but I really don't have a desire for international travel.  This may change, yes, but for now, this has been my experience.  With any sort of public announcement like this, I can already hear the gasps.  Who doesn't want to see the world?  After all, don't we owe it to ourselves and others to broaden our perspectives and experiences?

I crave open spaces.  I take delight in the quiet.  I feel most alive when I am communing with nature.  And simplicity is very important to me.  These experiences fuel my spirit.

I LOVE road trips.  My husband and I have taken so many over the course of our lives together (I remember reading Homer's Odyssey out loud to one another during one summer behind the wheel).  Now that we live in the midwest, we both desire mountain, ocean or desert landscapes so this is the direction with which we point our car (or the rental).

Although, who am I kidding?  What other landscape is there?  Ahhhh....a cityscape, yes.   This is appealing for a day or so and after that, I am ready for my open spaces once again.

When I travel I either want to arrive at a destination where the natural world is the backdrop, where I can plant myself for several days at a time and just absorb OR I want to be traveling in a car, preferably on back roads, meandering my way through unexpected small places, stopping all along the way.

When the outside world is too visually over stimulating for too long, I am unable to hear my inner voice.  When I can't hear my inner voice, I lose my compass.

I am constantly thinking.  There is a whole world available to me inside myself.  Although I've been traveling this world for years, it's a well that never tires or becomes dry.  It only continues to motivate and inspire me.  In contrast, the thought of traveling internationally (taking planes, trains, buses, being surrounded by people and noise, having to transfer from here to there and back again) is exhausting and depleting for me.  I know myself well enough that the time it takes to recover from these self imposed events (there are enough that are out of my control and just happen on a daily basis), the more the wind is taken directly out of my sail.

Yesterday, I took myself on a road trip.  We usually try to incorporate one day trip a week into our summer schedules.  We've already camped along the shores of Lake Superior and will do so at least four more times before the end of September.  At the end of July, we are planning on traveling the mountain (and prairie) landscapes of Montana.  For the meantime, I remain content, right here, wandering the open spaces of my internal geographies.

As a footnote, I realize there is room for an argument in my story here.  For instance, why can't I travel internationally to a place where I won't be overstimulated?  This travel story is only the tip of my iceberg.  And yes, staying in a yurt in the open spaces of Mongolia does sound a little appealing but...

Do I fly?  OF COURSE.  Usually to a quiet destination, however, and one that isn't in the spotlight.  A few years ago, my husband and I flew to Denver and then rented a car and drove the back roads of New Mexico and Texas.







 

who wants to play? the snail mail challenge

Last week I sent a few small packages out in the mail.  Cards too.  It was so much fun.  Yeah, I hardly do this anymore.  I used to do this all the time.  I have been guilty of falling by the wayside of communicating via facebook and email with those that are near and dear.  I started thinking about getting in the habit of sending more snail mail and then, out of the blue, I met THIS cyber friend on tumblr.  Synchronicity?  Yes.  My new friend is Stephanie Jarrett and she goes by the name vintage day dream.  She will send you a "parcel" in the mail.  I just ordered my first!

If you would like to receive some snail mail from me (I have absolutely NO IDEA what the contents might be but I am inspired nonetheless), contact me with your mailing address.  I'd love to mail something your way.

How I Found Myself: 10 Ways

Some of us get lost.  In fact, most of us do at one time or another.  All of the sudden we find ourselves asking questions like, "What am I doing?"  "Where am I going?" or "Who am I?".  Instead of focussing on the circumstances or events that appear to be responsible, I have found that my commitment to items on this list has been quite helpful.  By starting here, you can begin to tap into your deeper self, become stronger rooted and adjust your sail in the direction of your dreams.  These tasks aren't easy.  Taking actions like this require a deep desire for change.  The answers don't come quickly either.  But they do come.  This is what I've found works for me.

1. Get up earlier.  Get up before the rest of your household rises.  Set aside 30-45 minutes where you can sit in solitude and quiet before the rest of the world begins to bustle.  Notice any thoughts or feelings that rise.  Take note of them.  

2. Read.  I recommend reading some sort of daily meditation book, an autobiography, a children's book and a piece of adult fiction.

3. Write.  If you feel at a loss here, I highly recommend committing to morning pages for twelve weeks everyday.  This is a much different form of writing, a way of clearing the emotional clutter and I highly recommend it.  In fact, this activity alone can create the shift you are seeking.  It is powerful. 

4. Identify your dislikes.  Sometimes we need to identify what we don't like in order to find out more about what we do.  Notice what you don't like.  Why?  Take more notes.  

5. Start your 100 list.  Keep a running list of 100 things you like/love.  It may be easy to think of 100 or it may be difficult.  Do the best you can.  Practice doing/honoring one of these things everyday - even it if is just for 10 minutes.

6. Write out your ideal day.  If you had no responsibilities or obligations at all, how would you spend your time?  Fantasize about what an ideal day would look like for you.  Start participating in one activity from your ideal day once a week.  Set aside one day a month where you can put your ideal day into practice (modifying it as needed).

7. Try things on (and then take things off).  Enroll in an activity or attend an event once a week.  Notice what you like and don't like.  Repeat.

8. Discover three new heroes (or heroines).  Research all you can about these people.  Start a list of their characteristics and why you admire them.  Bridge connections between the three.

9. Give yourself one day a week to practice the next right thing.  Spend this time following your inner nudges.  Notice the difference between required action and inspired action.  

10. Stop "doing".  If you are anything like me, you have a to-do list and your to-do list never ends.  This kind of "doing" can turn into an addiction.  When we stop the compulsion to check things off our list, uncomfortable feelings rise.  Instead of returning to "doing", sit with these feelings and observe what is happening.  Trust me.  The answers you want lie just underneath those uncomfortable feelings.

more purpose - FILLED experience

chris larson, celebration/love/loss

On Saturday night, my husband and I were fortunate enough to be able to attend Northern Spark in Lowertown, St. Paul.  I could take the time here to write about what this event actually is, those that exhibited, volunteered their time or how this amazing event is funded.  These would all be more than inspirational topics.  I won't, though.

What I will say, is this:  This was an incredible experience.  This is one of the reasons why I am proud to call myself a Minnesotan (am I really calling myself that now? ha!)  No, in all sincerity, to be able to witness all the participants, volunteers, ALL the people that attended.  This was what was amazing to me.  Talk about collective consciousness.  Talk about people getting together and becoming co-creators of LIFE.

There is such an overwhelming sense of place for me when passion comes into play.  Northern Spark, thank you for creating yet another opportunity for all of us to witness this.   You will not be forgotten.

airing out (and highlighting) resistance

she's finished!, a photo by kari maxwell on Flickr.

I can't remember how long ago I stood in the art supply store really wanting a certain hot pink pastel. I remember picking out other colors but initially talking myself out of this one. On this particular day, I decided to pick up that pink pastel and purchase it, though. Radical, eh?

Who would have thought this particular pastel would have gotten so much mileage?
I never would have guessed...

  

This is just another reminder for me to learn to follow those instincts and nudges - even if they don't make any sense (at that particular time).  

Another, bigger question to ask myself is this:
If it's that easy to resist a hot pink pastel, what other larger ideas/concepts am I resisting?
 I'd love to air these out, hang them on the line to dry
and highlight them with hot pink, that's for sure.
 It's time...

These birds are for sale in my etsy shop.  The cow has already found a good place to call home.

staring down the throat of life + you can't stop growth

can't stop growth, 12 X 12, acrylic on canvas, framed
© kari maxwell

I have a tendency to stare down the throat of something, wanting it to budge, move, shift.  I am learning, quite slowly, that my job is to do the work and then sit back and let it take it's own course, in it's own time.  I have also learned that the more I stare it down, the further it is from making any visual movement.

I LOVE starting seedlings.  I usually have mini greenhouses lined across our kitchen windowsill.  I know I've talked about this before, but I get such a thrill out of the miracle of growth.  I mean, those tiny seeds all of the sudden are trying to push their way through the plastic I have rubber-banded around the top of each tiny pot.

I don't know if any of you have tried to root an avocado pit lately but, in my experience, some root quickly and others take A LOT OF TIME.  Everyday I have been observing one particular avocado pit - the one that took months and months to root.  Everyday, I would look closely to see if there were any changes.  Everyday - nothing...that is, to the naked eye...

My husband and I left for a weekend camping trip on Friday afternoon.  We returned Sunday eve.  To my astonishment, this particular avocado had sprouted and I could see the growth.

I didn't spend my weekend obsessing about the avocado pit.  I let it be.  I went away and did something else.  I didn't stare it down, trying to force it to come of age before it was ready.  If only I could do the same with my life and my circumstances.  If only I could trust that the next spurt of growth (or inspiration) will come when it's ready.  If only I could stop staring it down, trying to get it to root (or sprout).  Growth isn't something that stops and starts.  It's always happening somewhere, with something.  It isn't always visible, though, and this is where the trusting, the patience, the ability to walk away and let it go are extremely important and valuable characteristics.

And so this becomes the ultimate question, doesn't it?  Where can I put my focus NOW so that I can give these seeds I have planted the space and time they need to root (and sprout)?


:::: by the way, the painting you see above is now available on Saatchi.  see it here :::::

on collecting

One of the things I love the most about our time on the shores of Lake Superior is our walks and collections.  We usually take about 3 or 4 strolls down the beach and back over the course of each day.  Every time we walk, my collection takes on a different feel or personality.

Have you ever wondered: Why am I noticing this now (when I didn't before)?  What prompted me to pick this up this time?

I returned to my usual routine this morning of walking our dog, Stella, in our neighborhood.  Right now the sidewalks are "littered" with seeds, supposedly all the same.

What makes me choose these particular ones out of all the others?

Why do I bring these home and leave all the rest behind?

tuesday art class

This week we read books written and illustrated by Miroslav Sasek 

titled This is New York, This is San Francisco and This is Texas.  

illustration from This is New York by Miroslav Sasek

We used colored pencils to draw... 

...and paint to create texture.

We put them together to create mixed media cityscapes of our own.

Happy Art Making Everyone!

For more information about art classes,
please visit this link

the art of simplifying

"...eliminate the unnecessary so that the necessary may speak." - hans hofmann

How crowded my life becomes.  It happens so quickly.  I forget every time how important it is to get away.  I was reminded, again, when we headed out of town for the weekend, about the creative freedom I feel within constraints.  When I just gather a few art supplies, knowing I can't take it all and not being able to gauge the inspiration I will have upon arrival, it still amazes me that I find inspiration with exactly what I have.

There is so much power in simplifying, in paring down, in eliminating the unnecessary so that the necessary may speak.

reveling in the contrast

My husband and I (Stella too) spent the weekend on our first camping trip of the season at our favorite destination on Lake Superior.   We knew there was a possibility of cold and rainy weather and on our drive up, we experienced dark clouds and bursts of rain.  We arrived late on Friday night (9 pm or so) and used our camping lantern to try to find the driest camp site to set up our tent.  Not being a night person AND always being a fair weather gal, this is usually not my cup of tea but whenever we are able to go to the south shore, I have an extra burst of energy and enthusiasm.  It is truly my home away from home.

We slept that night all bundled together in our warm, cozy tent while the sound of rain pitter pattered.  The waves to the right of us (off the lake) and the frogs to the left of us (in the woods) were the perfect lullaby - as always.

It rained all day on Saturday (and, yet, this isn't exactly true).  It rained enough to keep us close to the tent.  We spent most of the day huddled closely inside.  The rain would break just enough for us to make some coffee, take a saunter down the beach or cook a meal (the longest stint being 20 minutes or so).  

We spent the day inside the tent reading and journaling.  We took naps on and off throughout the day.

We cooked our dinner  under a shelter while jumping up and down, trying to stay warm.  That night, we were downright damp (and cold) and took an exploratory 16 mile car ride to dry out and warm up.  We heard on the car radio that temperatures were going to drop to the high 30s that night.  

Were we crazy?  We'd find out...

We slept well that night (unbelievably well considering we had napped a lot over the course of the day and it was much colder than usual) but who I am kidding?  We are always surprised at how well we sleep and how comfortable we are in our tent.  The next morning we woke to thick cloud cover and chilling temperatures.  The rain had stopped, however, and we were able to enjoy a great pot of coffee. We could see a hint of blue sky on the horizon and over the course of the morning, we watched this hint grow.  At 9 am, the cloud cover had broken and the sun made it's first appearance.  By 10 am, there wasn't a cloud in the sky.

A clear blue sky on the shores of Lake Superior in the summer isn't unusual.  In fact, I have hundreds of photos documenting this.  But there is something to be said about experiencing this particular day that was different from all the rest.  It was as if we experienced a new lease on life.  We witnessed in ourselves a child-like pleasure, like we had just seen the sky and the sun for the first time.

This weekend was a series of extremes.  I still find it difficult to make sense of it all.  It's such a good reminder and a wonderful lesson though.  When we are experiencing dark moments in our life, it is extremely difficult to imagine them passing.  And then, all of the sudden, out of the blue, the thick layers of dense clouds, the dampness and downright cold take a lift and the sky opens up to bright blue with sunshine.  Life cannot help but offer a new lease, a fresh approach, a limitless amount of new possibility.

Sitting here in the comfort of my own home this morning, I am more aware than ever that life's contrast is what makes LIFE.  I am more aware than ever that having this particular weekend of contrast made my experience that much richer and deeper.  I wouldn't have wished it any other way.