a few moments to consider

Many years ago, in 1999, I began the ritual of writing morning pages a la Julia Cameron’s the Artist’s Way. At that time, I felt a surge of energy previously unknown.

Everyday, I’d pursue the adventure of watercolours. I’d sit in the light of a window, pull back my futon and play with water and pigment to see what would happen. Everyday a surprise, an experiment!

cavern

cavern, judih watercolour 2000

Evening walks under the stars, often shooting stars that would reaffirm the magic of living. Bursts of conversations with strangers that fueled creative fireworks.

Then, one day, I stopped. Why, I know now, was based on reaching the chapter in the book where it is required to give up reading for a week. That exercise seemed insurmountable and I just stopped working the course.

Watercolour painting stopped. The surge of energy kept going based on natural centrifugal force. I was no longer a battery.

Batteries have pluses and minuses.

The minuses were of dubious benefit to mankind. I had a long-distance cyber romance that ended a man’s employment as a computer teacher. I met up with a sad individual who expected the moon and received a handshake. While I applauded others becoming couples,  I felt my secret world pull me away from my own relationship. As I became vastly excited about my inner fantasies, I was less eager to blend with another.

Turmoil and re-evaluation. Bad? Good?

I learned that the super energetic revolution that I was experiencing was a phase, vital for me in order to embark on a new path. I went to my chosen therapy: psychodrama to work out the nuances of what I’d been repressing since childhood. I saw and understood what I wanted to do and I admitted that it could be achieved.

Energetic rebalancing. Not a matter of plus or minus but a matter of clarity of recognition.

I write this as I consider that period in my life when a young woman graduated into womanhood and that ‘maybe someday’ became “what the hell am i waiting for?”.

Not that everything immediately fell into place, but my intention became more clearly focused. I chose to reconnect to my dream of higher artistic education. I chose to deal with a morass of bureaucracy in order to fulfill that desire. Once the choice was made, the path followed.

Eventually, I enrolled in the Creative Arts in Education M.Ed offered by Lesley College and there I finally experienced school as it is meant to be. I found a lush ground for exploring my own curiousity, and found professors, authors and other students who were equally ripe for opening their minds and trekking past prior limitations.

I connected with my own love of research and the quest for answers based on real experiences.

My thesis on Using the Arts to Focus Pupils with ADHD was based on real-life interviews and research. I gleaned common ground from so many sources from various disciplines and, on the way, I learned of many therapists who work their method to help people with ADHD rediscover their own focus through art, movement, music.

My battery re-charged through the rhythm of the research and writing. And it still regenerates as I use mindfulness and creativity to help myself and pupils locate that inner pearl that hums within us all.

Morning pages began a process for me. Perhaps it could work for you.

cropped-art-0011.jpg

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Meanwhile during the Military “Operation”

Operation Protective Edge

not a war. no. an Operation.

Red alerts sound

take cover

Booms. and quiet

How do I spend my time?

I am doing intensive puppet therapy.

As I do during such times and also as I do in regular times, but then only on Saturdays,  the only days I have available for foam rubber, paint and glue.

How does it work?

When I work on making puppets, I am focused. Time is irrelevant. Life is good.

puppets await further body parts

puppets await further body parts

Do I like interruptions?

When I am asked to speak about the current not-War situation: how I am, if the kibbutz was targeted, how many red alerts we’ve had, I prefer not to go there.

Back to foam rubber shaping and the artistry of a paintbrush on an eyeball.

It all connects with contact cement.

Still waiting

Still waiting

What are the signs of happiness?

My paintbrushes stand drying beside my toothbrush. A sign of life!