FLOURISH BLOG: Providing tools and (true) stories for creating an inspired, intuitive life.
In my life this tradition was started years ago when I lived in Colorado. And today is the birthday of my good friend and soul sister Debi– one of the co-creatrice’s of this blessed tradition in my life. I wish she lived closer so I could do this with her today. But since she doesn’t it seemed like a good day to highlight this wonderful practice.
In the mountains above Boulder where I lived, myself and two of my good girlfriends, Debi, Laura, and I would get together every so often and draw together. We would have all of our materials: one giant sheet of paper, pastels, colored pencils, markers, charcoals, wine, snacks, music, and a space where we could be alone. We all drew on the same page. Our only rule was, “You can not be attached to anything you put on the page because anyone has the right to change it at any time.” Often where we started was vastly different than where we ended up. We had no agenda. The art evolved as each stroke was made– until a general sense of completion existed in each of us.
We actually created marvelous things. I framed some of them and had them on my walls for years. Others I still vividly remember.
Those nights were magic. They belonged in that out-of-time-and-space place that happens when true soul sisters get together. They contained all the magic that connection, concentration and color can hold. They were free and invigorating as being with those kind of beloveds are– and they were vivid, in hue and focus.
Healing, goofiness, solid advice, and the magic of togetherness is what we spread onto those pages with our hands. Women togetherness, and color, still two of the most healing things I know.
Now, Laura and Debi go on. And I have had to start my own traditions where I live in Washington.
I’m feeling one brewing for this week, in honor of my original art sister Debi, and in honor of color and light. These days, as before, it’s usually a spontaneous, after the kids go to bed sort of affair. Now, I text a few girlfriends to see whose game and available and we often work on our own pieces instead of doing something together. But it’s still satisfying. Color, women chatting and laughter still happens. Art in an un-determined sort of way arrises. On these nights, though I don’t share it with my original ladies, I have the same sort of practice of it: I create without a care of it actually becoming something, anything– and it is such a lovely feeling. Art with no agenda. I play with color sometimes for no other reason than seeing it on the page. I laugh. I eat chocolate.
I recommend it.
I love you Debi (and Laura)!