Everything That Is- Rambling thoughts about the creation of this book and how ART is LIFE is ART

A girl is guided by visible and invisible signs on a journey through the forest. As with most journeys there is a range of experience- from joy and wonder to fear and doubt. The book wants to show us a few things; follow your heart and your intuition, recognize and trust the signs. And, do not be thrown off by experiences- or feelings- , they will be constantly changing and shifting, keeping a trust in the journey and life itself will help to move along and stay true to your very own unique path.

All this may sound a bit dense and complex for a children’s book, but the book is written and illustrated in such a simple way that I feel it can be subliminally understood and absorbed. Like with most picture books this is more of a experiential/ holistic type of thing than an intellectual thing. But as the creation of this book was so perfectly mystical and attuned I really would love to share some things about my experience of creating it.

The seed was planted when i saw a piece of art a friend showed me. Inspiration literally struck and I had a clear vision of this book- even though I had no idea what it actually would look like. Or what it would even be about! I set off by creating one painting- the first page of the book (see above) The words followed and the next page followed. Each painting and each bit of text kept following the last one. The story shaped around this process- as I was painting and writing- I realized that the artistic creative process is the same creative process that is called life. I looked closely each day for signs, things to add in the work, or synchronicities to affirm or verify the ‘right move’. Magically the signs kept on showing. A lot of the painting came from a huge flow state, a space of ease and sense and knowing. But soon enough, while working in this way, committing to create a whole book- 12 paintings and 12 pages of words- there comes a moment where ‘i just don’t know’. Almost every page has hidden deep within them a moment of doubt, of confusion, of fear, of dislike, of indifference, of irritation. This is where I train myself to not attach to the emotion- to not invest a lot of belief or faith into the specific emotions that come up through the process of creation (wether this be in art or life) Because i know that as I keep painting, as I keep with the trust that this work wants to exist, wants to be created, that I want to express and create it, these feelings will change. They will dissipate, they will morph into the next feelings of pure joy, happiness, excitement, gratitude, awe, giddiness. Until a painting reaches a certain place of ‘perfection’, or maybe i should say ‘peace’. It isn’t perfection in the way of ‘it could never be better’ or ‘it’s completely without flaw’, but perfection for me is about it reaching a state of completion and satisfaction that feels natural and at ‘one’. It can be a little tricky to recognize this place. It takes a deep trust to allow for something to be done and ‘perfect’.

So the girl in the book follows the signs along the way. Like I myself was doing while creating. I meditated a lot in order to create that silence for deeper listening, I looked around attentively in my environment and in my dreams, so as not to miss the signs. And things are going lovely. But then- as in almost any creative project I’ve ever done comes a moment where momentum makes place for stagnation and I reach an impasse. In the book this happens when the girl meets the snake. There is a freeze, fear, running away, there is a stop of the flow, even though of course the flow still exists, it’s just that its form changes. It can be fenced off, like dikes or dams around water, it be a rapid, it can be a full blown flood, but the flow as I’ve known it is gone. The girl runs and runs, changes scenery and comes to a place of choice, a fork in the road. Do I turn left or right? She sees a sign even if it is not 100% clear to her that the sign is meaningful. She trusts it anyway and soon comes back to the solid place of rest and with that trust and peace. The way this works for me in creating is so similar. I am blocked, i doubt everything, I can’t see the bigger picture, I panic or i become apathetic. Inert. And full of indecision, should i keep painting this painting or start a new one? should i change the whole color of the sky here, or add tree right in the middle? Should I abandon the whole idea all together even. And then I have to make a choice. I either wait and do nothing. Wait for a sign to appear maybe.. wait for something to shift either on the outside or on the inside. And I do that for periods. I take space, I step away. I feel that it is necessary in the creative process to take breaks in order to gain clarity. This links again perfectly to life itself. One has to sometimes simply stop. Do nothing. Find the quiet again and be ready to hear what wants to be communicated. But, then there is a time where in order to finish a project, to honor and respect all that’s already there, I sometimes take some steps blindfolded. I am seeing a vague sign, I am still not sure, like the girl in the book, but I take the steps anyway. If I was to wait to be 100% sure of every step I take before I take it, creation would not happen, nor would it be a very interesting process. I feel that this gets in the way of us creators, artists and of course as people in life as life is creation itself. We want so much to be in that perfectly inspired flow state and we give it such power (of course because it is powerful), that when we are not there we allow ourselves to not do the work, we tend to check out and leave our creations. Usually make up all sorts of wonderful reasons for why we are excused and should not just do the work. Why it’s best to ‘wait’. When I examine my own experience, I find that at root of my wanting to check out or leave such situations, is fear. Facing and confronting it is the best way I have found to move through it. And for me that means - yes, take the breather, or the break, but come back soon and trust that something amazing is about to happen on the other side of the discomfort.

One of my all time favorite quotes goes: “Inspiration exists, but it has to find me working” (Picasso) This is in one sentence what this means to me. Inspiration is everywhere and so available, but if we’re not actually putting in the work- wether that be with our craft, our partners and kids, our spiritual work like meditation, physical work, and all of it, it will most likely not show itself or very sporadically. Now this is not to say that inspiration can’t strike in that idealized romantic way- the way it did for me when I just saw another artist’s work, of course that happens too! But to start and finish a piece of work, to keep it an alive web and source, to make these inspired moments into a manifest reality, that is a journey. And in the journey are the ups and downs, the vicissitudes of life. The confrontations with oneself, one’s lack beliefs, one’s laziness, one’s ability to commit or not, one’s trust, all these deep things are highlighted within the creative journey. It is scary to go from limitless possibility to a manifest reality. Because it sort of creates a limit - the thing is now made, done. Is it as good as I hoped or imagined? Well, I don’t know. And once a creation is finished- letting it go into the world is a whole other thing. It almost doesn’t matter, let’s say; it doesn’t matter. To me creating and making is without a doubt one of the most interesting and fun ways to engage in life. I’ve been painting for over 15 years on a super regular basis and I still feel every time I start a painting I am completely 100 % new to the process. This is how I love to approach life too, every single day I wake up is BRAND new, we are novices at each step -always- because every breath is that blank page.

Everything That Is is also available as a kindle on Amazon