Category Archives: Philosophy

“I wonder if you can”

This week’s artist’s way lesson has taken a turn for the worst!
Every morning, since the beginning of this adventure, I have started, almost, each and every day with the stream of conscious writing known as “The Morning Pages.” For whatever reason, when I write my to do list, at the top is always MAP. At first, I wasn’t even aware I was doing it. Then one day I realized with stunning clarity why my subconscious brain had done it. Morning Pages equated to MAP,  for this is exactly what morning pages do. They sort of map out the frequencies of your brain, so you can fine tune the radio station to the music of the day. Sorry for the metaphor, I’m just weird like that.

 

This week. This week though. *sigh*

This week, I must incorporate the Night pages.

Now, I am to ask myself what it is that I want. What is the free-flowing river of consciousness streaming at the close of each day. It is a moment to reflect. It is a moment to vent. It is a moment to once more check-in with that little inner artist and say, “Baby girl, tell me what you need.”

 

The trouble is… this is it. This is my night pages for the evening. The dogs are settled in, snuggled as close as they can possibly get without me swatting them away for being a hinderance to my typing. The room is cleaned from my earlier morning activities. My sketchbook is waiting for me, perched upon a box of markers and a box of pencils.  There is also the orbiting thought I had moments before coming inside from my cigarette break and the moonlit back yard. This is it. This is my life.

I wouldn’t want it another way. Sure I wish my room was a little bigger. Absolutely, I wish that there was someone other than two dogs nestling in beside me. Sure, I want this, and I’m praying for that. Yet, for the first time in my life–the first time ever publicly stated–I am at the most blissful state of human intelligence and inner peace. I am home.

I may have dreams that seem far-fetched or not worth believing. I may be the dreamer with her head in the clouds. It doesn’t matter. Hey, Mr. Lennon, I’m not the only one, right?

In the end, it doesn’t matter what you believe or don’t believe. In the end, all that matters is what dream you chose to wake up inside of.

Peace and Love,

Kris

Imagine Peace

 

 

 


“Bruises fade father, but the pain remains the same” ~Christina Aguilera

As part of my reading deprivation, I’ve been listening to music. I’ve danced around the house, cleaning to Katy Perry and writing with the aid of Meditation music. My musical taste is ecclectic to say the least. As part of the excercise, reading deprivation aims to connect us to our own voice. When I listen to music, I do hear the other voice singing in my ear. I can hear the artist. Sometimes what the artist has to say is so powerful, so beautiful, so painful even, so true. I can’t explain why this song means so much to me, to do so woud be to unravel one of the biggest mysteries in my ongoing investigation of my life. But i am okay.

 

If you ever thought Child Abuse was something to take lightly. I can assure you. You are wrong.


“…and most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition…”~ Steve Jobs

I’ve been feeling a little… a little… trumuanized. One of my favorite Jim Carey films of all time is the Truman Show. Sometimes I wonder if on the otherside of the sky i’m looking into there’s not some grand creator hiding behind it, filming everything I do, influencing everyone I meet. This week has completely been a crazy ride in the life of Kristen. It has been strange as anything and it all started because of this week’s task: Reading Deprivation.

At first I thought nothing of it. No books no problem. No facebook? Well, It was about time i took a little vacation from the social networking world. At first it seemed like cake. But then it happened.

There was nothing to distract me from the one thing that had been glaring at me the entire time. She snarled and reared her ugly head. I could not escape into the African jungle with Barbara Kingsolver and the Price girls. I could not lose myself to the pages of my literary magazines, paging through them to see what kind of place I should be heading with my writing. I could not steal a glimpse at a friend’s insight, or personal shortcoming tweet or status. It was just me and the beast.

It was just me. Myself. And I.

I live in a small bungalo on the Eastern End of Long Island. Still recovering from a wallop with life, and trying to train my feet and legs to stand again, I find myself completely isolated with this experiment. If anyone was curious about what the Artist Way is really about. Try it for one week. No reading. No social media. sparing television. This program is designed to be a process.

I can tell you, just from the recent happenings during this experiment and the changes in my life that have been occurring since I’ve started this journey… Miss Cameron is leading me through a process that is not only recovering my artist within me, but also helping me transform into the person my full potential is capable of becoming. It is a miraculous journey. From ugly duckling to swan. From catepilliar to butterfly. My metamorphisis.

Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life. Don’t be trapped by dogma – which is living with the results of other people’s thinking. Don’t let the noise of other’s opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary. ~Steve Jobs


“Pain throws your heart to the ground, Love turns the whole thing around, fear is a friend whose misunderstood, but I know the heart of life is good.” ~ <3 John Mayer <3

I have come to the end of the first week of the Artist’s Way. I’ve enjoyed this week immensely. As if creatively I am freed I find myself beginning to tromp around familiar mental ground that I have not visited in some time. My philosophical curiosity is back at an all time high, and I feel more spiritual than I have in months.

I sit at my desk staring out at the cold winter world outside my window. The way the trees look against the sky, the way the fallen leaves lay on the ground, the plastic snowflakes my mother hung on the window as decoration all speak to me. It may seem silly, but it makes me feel filled with warmth. I feel connected once more to the world around me and it is a wonderful feeling. More importantly, I feel more connected to myself, that beautiful little girl who fell in love with the world around her. The little girl who loved the smaller universes hiding beneath rocks, and the bigger universe sung in the stars.

It feels good to be here, to be present, to be in the now. It feels good to feel like an artist, a philosopher, to feel human. If you ever get to read this, Thank you Julia Cameron for introducing my eyes to the familiar way I seemed to have lost.

“Knowing others is wisdom, knowing yourself is enlightenment” ~Lao Tzu

And thank you to the Great Creator for allowing me to connect to you once more.

To all who read this. Namaste.

Peace,
Kris