Quinn McDonald's Blog, page 49

In Progress. . .

Note: Shirley Levine from Paper and Threads won the Inner Hero book from the Endings and Beginnings blog post (January 1, 2014). Congratulations, Shirley! I hope you make many Inner Hero pages!

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Still having fun with monoprinting with my Gelli Plate. I’m not going for fancy designs. I’m going for great color. Then I use one piece for a background and cut up another for collage.

Sometimes it’s more realistic. On this one, I sprayed the plate with background once I had the paint on it, and took the print that way, giving the snowing effect.

Sometimes it’s more abstract. Beach Storm. Love the background colors. Am so grateful I can see them accurately (well, with one eye.)

Either way, it’s a lot of fun.

Have a creative weekend!

—Quinn McDonald is in the studio this weekend, practicing for her classes as the Minneapolis Center for Book Arts and Madeline Island School of Design.

Filed under: Art in Progress, Creativity, Wabi-Sabi Tagged: collage, creativity coach, gelli plate monoprints, giveaway winner

The Slippery Surface of Yupo

Yupo® is a polypropylene synthetic paper. It has a smooth white surface, is semi-opaque, and makes a very interesting sheet for watercolor, ink and acrylics.

There are pros and cons. Because it is non-absorbent (read: waterproof), whatever you use on it has to dry by evaporation into the air (instead of absorbing into the fiber).

In the photo above, you can see the light reflecting on a piece of wet Yupo®. Look closely, and you’ll see that only the top 2/3 of the page is wet. If you leave the page flat, the water doesn’t drift.

Color skates along the surface, and blending goes a long way. You’ll probably need less acrylic, ink, or watercolor.

Acrylic paint: sap green, blue, fine gold monoprinted on Yupo.

Because I’m a designer for Niji art products, I decided to give Splash Inks a try on Yupo®.

Splash Inks on Yupo®

First, I tried simply putting the inks on the surface, spritzing it with water and tilting it. Interesting effect. When the inks dry, they cannot be scrubbed off with a paper towel and water. They will lift off with a paper towel and alcohol and some scrubbing, but a faint image will remain. Makes a nice ghost print.

But I wanted to create an abstracted image, so I put down a blue wash on the top of the page, and an orange-brown wash on the bottom. I allowed it to dry thoroughly–about an hour in Phoenix. Then I dropped Splash black ink (two drops, about an inch apart) on the page, and used a straw to create a tree trunk. I blue the drops up until I had interesting lines, then used a coffee-stirrer-size straw to blow across the lines and create offshoots. (For more detailed instructions and photos, read the tutorial on Splash Inks on Yupo)

I then mixed up some bright orange ink (I free-mix, but there are instructions for colors with the inks), and using a stiffer glue brush, pounced the brush on the surface, creating the illusion of autumn leaves. And the tree was done.

Full instructions for this tree and two more are on the Niji blog for January 3, 2014.

—Quinn McDonald is delighted to have been invited as a guest instructor at the Minneapolis Book Arts Center this April. She will be teaching Mind Over Chatter, a journaling class with Gelli plates.

Filed under: Art in Progress, Creativity, Tutorials Tagged: splash inks, synthetic paper, tutorial, yupo

The Right Word (Guest Post)

Quinn’s note: Today I read an email from Creative Crocheter, a friend and long-time acquaintance. She was explaining the Word of the Year to her friends and family. The thought that went into choosing her word for this year was impressive enough,  I asked if she would be a guest poster. She generously agreed. Each month I’ll ask one of you to check in as a guest poster and tell me how your word is doing.

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On the other hand, gathering my thoughts about listening has had its own rewards. I’ve been reminded of the many ways in which my body, soul, and spirit speak to me.

Listening to my body is the obvious one. Tired? Get more sleep. Hungry? Eat something healthy. Weak or stiff? Exercise. Obvious, yes, though not always heard.

Listening to my soul is a little more subtle. What is touching my heart with joy or sadness? What is engaging my mind? What is challenging my will to follow through on the choices I have made?

Listening to my spirit seems least direct, such as through physical metaphors, if I ask “What might my spirit be trying to tell me here?” when a physical problem lingers. When my shoulders are tense and achy, what am I shouldering that isn’t mine to carry? When an infection resists treatment, what might I be allowing to fester—a guilt or resentment that needs to be cleared out, opened to light and air, so it can drain and heal? When food isn’t digesting properly, what am I having trouble stomaching or what have I swallowed from what others are “feeding” me that isn’t good for me?

How do you listen to yourself, to others, to nature, to God? I was reminded of the role of silence in allowing deep listening to take place when I read this recent post on a favorite blog [Madmanknitting]

When was the last time you were in silence so deep you could hear a still small whisper?

My answers to those questions have led me back around to my 2013 Word of the Year: “Home.” Not just a place, for me, “home” is anywhere I am heard and where I can truly listen. Yes, I am grateful that my physical home gives me the space and quiet to let myself listen, to be still and feel safe, to find comfort(ing) and peace. And yes, surrounding myself with colorful, soft, handmade beauty contributes to that environment. More than that, though, I am truly thankful for the people in my life with whom I feel “at home” and who reflect back to me so I can really hear myself, encouraging me to listen past pain and hurt to a deeper level of knowing.

Then—surprise—after all that listening, my 2014 Word of the Year popped out of my reading this morning: “Light.”

Such a rich word with so many uses:

As a noun: a stream of photons, as in the attached photo; a lamp or source of illumination; an insight that comes in a flash, as in “the light dawned.”

As a verb: to ignite a fire; to land, as a bird “lights upon a branch”

As an adjective: without much weight, as in “my burden is light”; bright or pale, as a color that is “light blue”; cheerful or even frivolous, as in “light entertainment”; easily digested, as in “eating a light supper”

Even in an adverbial form (lightly): delicately, with grace.

And those are just the ones I jotted down before I looked in the dictionary. Where does “light” show up in your life? What will you choose as your 2014 Word of the Year?

Whether or not you celebrate, as I do at this time of year, the coming of Jesus as the “Light of the World,” may your deep listening lead you home to the loving light that glows within you.

CreativeCrocheter feels “at home” with Quinn, who really listens, lighting the creative path.

Filed under: Life as Metaphor, The Writing Life Tagged: holiday light, light, Word of the Year

Endings and Beginnings, and a Giveaway

It’s over. 2013 is behind us. A relief for some, a sentimental goodbye for others. Welcoming in a New Year always feels fresh and hopful.

This year, there is even a new moon and a super moon to welcome in the new year. A new moon rises when the sun rises, and sets when the sun sets, so it’s hard to see. (And a full moon rises when the sun sets, which helps you know the “almost full” from the “really full.”)

As the year ended, we’ve been talking about choosing a word for the year. You’ve had wonderful ideas: faith, believe, dare, balance, affirmative, listen, strength, flow, mantra, now, do, fly, focus, persevere, knowledge, wisdom, kindness, letting go, little by little, now, trust, accept, and many more.

Before you jump into using your new word, say a sincere goodbye to the old one. See how it fit. See where it pinched. Honor it in your journal one more time. And then, whether it was great, good, or never-again, put it to rest. It served you well in its own way.

The Sower, by William J. Stewart.

My word this year came to me in that balance of time between wake and sleep. I didn’t want to choose a rubber-stamp-type word, but this one was not something I thought was useful. It is Scatter.

The next day, it came back, and the day after as well. Who am I to ignore a dream? I began to think what it might mean. The most powerful image that came to mind is the ancient manner of broadcasting seed. The seed falls on stone and doesn’t grow. It is picked up by a bird and dropped on rich ground and thrives.

I’ve had too much focus and discipline in 2013. Happy enough to have focus and discipline, it helped me lose 65 pounds and change my relationship with food and become healthier, not dependent on insulin. Thank you. Now, moving on, I am thinking what needs to be scattered in my life–broadcast, spread, thrown into the wind, and carried off, only to be seen in another stage later. Or to fly off like confetti, no longer needed. Turns out, it’s a big word.

I’ve come to like the word scatter, so once a month, when I invite you to tell us what your word has developed into, I’ll talk about my scattered new life.

And the giveaway? Of course, it’s a copy of my new book–the Inner Hero Creative Art Journal. Leave a comment about last year’s word and how you will say goodbye to it. Or, if you haven’t chosen a word, tell us which one you will use. Link the word to your inner hero–the one you will welcome in 2014. The winner will be announced on this coming Saturday.

And then, with joy, welcome 2014!

Quinn McDonald welcomes her alter ego, Iron Crow, who will spend some time standing up to her Inner Critic.

Filed under: Creativity, Inner Critic, Inner Hero/Inner Critic, Life as Metaphor Tagged: creativity coaching, Inner Hero book, scatter, word for 2014

Chihuly in the Garden

Phoenix’s Desert Botanical Garden is one of my favorite places in the whole world–and I’ve been to a lot of places. This year, the Garden brought in glass sculptures by Dale Chihuly. It’s not the first time Chihuly has been in the garden. There are two permanent sculptures at the entrance.

Occasionally, people think the sculptures are real and ask what kind of plants they are. I always say, “Chihuly” and people think it’s a kind of cactus.

The thin red poles look balanced between the green cacti.

The mix of of spheres and pipes make an interesting grouping with the blue agave.

The sculptures have to be dusted several times a week. This one is about 20 feet tall. Dusting it must be fun.

This round shape is amazing. I love how these shapes fit into the desert landscape.

This color almost seems like a black and white in this photograph.

Nothing like polka dots to brighten the day. This is a great exhibit. If you are in the Phoenix area, don’t miss it.

Filed under: Nature, Inside and Out Tagged: Chihuly, desert botanical garden, glass sculptures

Hope: It’s Complicated

Desert Night © Quinn McDonald. Fabric, marbled paper, stitching on watercolor paper background.

Hope is a tricky emotion. It’s necessary so we can imagine what will happen if we take action and overcome hardship. It’s useful to use as a ladder out of sorrow: we can imagine life getting better, and we go where we look.

So why have I said that I’m not a fan of hope? Heretic. Well, in a way, yes. When we expect hope to be enough, to be the only fuel to drive a dream into reality, hope isn’t enough.

When we rely on hope to create what we cannot, we will be disappointed.

When we take that word for 2014 and expect it to change who we are, to be the magic eraser that vanishes all problems, we are making it carry to much of a burden.

Treat hope for what it is–the clay that we shape into a plan with the skill and

It’s not clay; it’s a rendering made to look like clay. A good metaphor for hope. From: http://www.secondpicture.com/tutorials/3d/clay_render_in_3ds_max.html

talent we have.

Take another look at your word for the year and make sure it’s strong enough to last a whole year, to push you when you want to stop, and to be the chuck under your wheel so you don’t roll back.

That’s a strong hope.

–Quinn McDonald is a certified creativity coach. And the author of the Inner Hero Creative Art Journal, published by North Light Books.

Filed under: Coaching, Inner Critic, Life as Metaphor Tagged: Hope, word for 2014, word for the year

A Poem for Your Journey

Watts Towers in Los Angeles, built by Simon Rodia.

Counting down to New Year, choosing who you will be in 2014, trying to find that special word to be your amulet–it can all be a bit confusing. “I want to be a better me” is hard to define in specific terms. We can’t shed our skins like a snake and become someone new. Even the snake stays a snake. A bigger, stronger snake once the skin is shed, but still a snake.

Detail of the Watts Towers, made of cement and broken pottery, found and discarded objects.

Frankly, I wouldn’t even want to create a whole new me.  I like the dinged, battered, missing-perfect-by-a-mile me I’ve become, because working on what you are with what you’ve got makes you more interesting. And more honest. And certainly more sturdy and vulnerable.  I’d rather be a Watts Tower than the Dubai Building (the tallest building in Qatar).

Being who you are is hard work. No pretense, no hiding behind a new model, a new name, a new location, just recognizing what you can and can’t do is more than a year’s worth of work.

The Dubai building in Qatar.

I’m still working on the final draft, but one of my big recognitions in 2013 is that I am not a healer. Don’t want to be one. Most likely I am a teacher. Even that seems too big a burden sometimes–to claim expertise in something. It’s also possible I am a witness to other people’s stories. At best, I help them edit them, keeping what is useful, and culling out the misery and pain that holds them back from knowing who they want to be. That’s why I wrote the Inner Hero book.

So while you are figuring our who you are, too, here is a poem by Mary Oliver struck me as being perfect for the work behind and the work to come.

The Journey

by Mary Oliver

One day you finally knew

what you had to do, and began,

though the voices around you

kept shouting

their bad advice—

though the whole house

began to tremble

and you felt the old tug

at your ankles.

“Mend my life!”

each voice cried.

But you didn’t stop.

You knew what you had to do,

though the wind pried

with its stiff fingers

at the very foundations,

though their melancholy

was terrible.

It was already late

enough, and a wild night,

and the road full of fallen

branches and stones.

But little by little,

as you left their voices behind,

the stars began to burn

through the sheets of clouds,

and there was a new voice

which you slowly

recognized as your own,

that kept you company

as you strode deeper and deeper

into the world

determined to do

the only thing you could do—

determined to save

the only life you could save.

--Quinn McDonald is still figuring out who she is.

Filed under: Art in Progress, Coaching, Inner Critic, Inner Hero/Inner Critic Tagged: creativity coaching, inner hero creative art journal, looking ahead to 2014, word for the year

Before You Leap into 2014 . . .

The temptation is so strong to make a list of changes necessary in 2014. There are hundreds of ways to be better, kinder, thinner. We are never enough for ourselves. I have nothing against self-improvement, it’s a never-ending project. A renewable resource for your psyche.

Before you make a six-volume improvement list for 2014, there is unfinished business in 2013. Take a seat. Take a few deep breaths, too. Then look back at 2013, and see what you did right. What you are doing better now than you did last January. What you struggled with, figured out and made progress on. What you conquered.

None of these victories have to be permanent to make them count. There are some improvements we have to make over and over again. Not unlike painting the trim on the house, rotating the car’s tires, or doing laundry.

Each year, you’ll meet the same problem over and over again until you understand it fully. Rather than becoming impatient and angry with yourself for “not fixing the problem,” give yourself some credit for recognizing and working regularly on the problem. Think over what you were bad at and see if you have made progress.

Look over what you were good at and see if you are doing more of it. Don’t start making a list of improvements just yet. Take a minute first to see how far you have come. That’s an important part of being strong enough to continue.

–Quinn McDonald has a feeling 2014 is going to be a busy year.

Filed under: Coaching, Recovering Perfectionists Tagged: New Year's resolutions, self-criticism, self-improvement

Family Christmas, Bullfighter Style

If you are from a big, happy family who gets together on Christmas in loving celebration to exchange presents, sing, and eat. . .you aren’t reading this. You are enjoying your family. Both of you.

The rest of us struggle with family. We are adults,  lead responsible lives, no longer have the bad habits of younger years. But something triggers five-year old behavior. Someone’s a bully. Someone gets teased.  One person is nosy, someone else doesn’t care to ask enough questions. Many are “offended” at an opinion, the food, the word in a song. Instead of “merry and bright,” you get “fury and fight.”

Why does this happen when absolutely no one wants it to happen? Because Christmas is fraught with the freight of memories. We take the gauzy, vague memories of childhood and make them solid. We had perfect trees and handmade, heirloom ornaments. The treats were perfect and the food exquisite. It wasn’t of course, but our brain steps in, says, “let me remember that differently for you.” Your perfect childhood is endlessly trying to be created, not re-created.  You struggle to create  today the fantasy that never was in your childhood. Trouble erupts when your definition of “perfect” is not the same as the other people’s. Tension blossoms, followed by a power struggle. Everyone loses.

As adults, we have a firm vision of who we are now. In control. In control of how we want people to think of us. Your siblings remember foibles and habits we’dlike to forget. They bring them up anyway. You collapse. You realize just how many buttons you have that get pushed. In fact, you are just one big button standing next to the Christmas tree.

Shift your perspective just a bit. Instead of thinking of yourself as the noble, wounded bull in the bullfight, remember that the bull inevitably gets stabbed by the bullfighter (to wild applause). Update that image. You are the bull—but strong, nimble, powerful. Not wounded, but angry. The matador is the thoughtless sibling, aunt, cousin. Decked out in a too-tight suit of lights, [the link description is worth reading, just for the unfortunate translation], complete with the little goofy hat, pink hose, sequined pants and . . . your emotional baggage instead of a cape.

From a Samsonite Spinner commercial, produced by ad agency Moxie and Superfad.

Here’s the trick: stop looking at the red cape/baggage the matador wiggles at you. There is a sword in there. Look at your matador–the sparkly sequins, the tight pants. There’s your target. Can’t run fast in that getup. You are a lot more powerful. But only if you ignore the taunts and flapping red attention-distracting flag. If you charge the flag, you will be jeered. Swords will appear. If you gore the bullfighter, you will hate yourself later. And you’ll be stabbed. People will cheer. Not the result you want.

Here’s the move: Ignore the baggage. Do not attack the attention-grabbing baggage. Once you charge, there is a feint, the distraction moves, and the matador is engaged. Instead, listen to what the matador is goading you with. Listen, not to charge headlong into the red, but to hear a keyword you can acknowledge. This move catches the matador off guard.

Example:

Aunty Annoying: Are you still at that dead-end job? I don’t understand why you didn’t become an engineer like your brother.

You: [respond to key word, "engineer"] Yes, [brother's name] is very successful. We are all proud of him. [If you can't manage that, you can substitute, "You must be so proud of him. "]

Aunty Annoying: We’d like to be proud of you, too, but it’s hard to be proud of someone who claims to be an artist.

You: [respond to key word "artist."] Art isn’t valued by our culture, is it? [Notice that you are not chasing the red flag here]

Aunt Annoying: No, who cares about art? Why did you disappoint us all anyway?

You: [changing subject] What did you want to be when you were little, Aunt Annoying?

Aunt Annoying: I didn’t have choices like you kids today do. I stayed home and raised the children. Which reminds me, when are you going to give my sister a grandchild?

You: [responding to keyword "grandchild"] Speaking of grandchildren, how is your grandson Iggy doing?

Notice that this is not a conversation. This is you, avoiding charging the ancient painful baggage being dangled in front of you. You are not looking for conversation, you are avoiding a tearful confrontation. You are listening, not to correct her, make her wrong, express your frustration, but to keep coming back to her, instead of the red cape.

Keep your eye on the real target–the matador.  Do not resort to the clever, snarky verbal slap that will put the questioner down, hard. (It will attract the attention of the bully protector.) Feel sorry (if your can’t muster compassionate) at the inability of the matador to manage a good relationship. Focus on acknowledging the life of the questioner. Turn the conversation to neutral ground or to questions about the matador. Not mean questions, neutral. Within 20 minutes, you will be behaving like the in-control adult you are.

This behavior is not easy. You will want to attack. You may want to dump the eggnog over the taunter’s head. Resist. You want to feel good about yourself. Pity the lack of tact of your matador.

Then take a lap around the ring, still standing, still strong, still powerful.  Stand among your peaceful family. You’ve earned it.

—Quinn McDonald has been the matador and the bull. This year, she’s avoiding being the red baggage.

Filed under: Coaching, Creativity, Inner Hero/Inner Critic, Life as Metaphor Tagged: Christmas family, family fights, life coaching

Lesson of the All-Year Flower

Flowers planted in pots die a long, slow death in the desert. Basil, violets, zinnias, even marigolds have crisped up in pots–even the ones that aren’t clay and don’t hold heat.

Until last summer. I planted a Lisianthus–tough gray-green leaves, and big, multi-petaled blossoms. With no idea what the flowers looked like, I waited for the first buds with anticipation, the gardener’s companion.  The first blossoms opened in a pale parchment color. Nice. The next day, the same blossom was pink, the next dusty rose, then darker parchment, then pale, then it crinkled up.

Damn. That’s impressive. Each blossom does this. It starts out as one color, morphs through several delicate, antique shades, and wrinkles into a deep kraft-bag color.

Through June, July, and August, when everything else (except the lantana) dies of heat exhaustion, the Lisianthus stayed. Thrived. Then, in August, it began to die back. I trimmed the stems and noticed new growth. And here, in December, it is happily blooming again.

No one says that one color of the development is “better” than the other. They are all glorious. Every stage of life has its advantages and disadvantages, whether you are a flower or a person. You couldn’t pay me to go through high school again. I’m not as flexible physically as I was then, but my heart is flexible and will grow where planted–and I’m grateful.

The Lisianthus is tough. It has outlasted the roses of Spring, the cosmos of Summer and the chrysanthemums of Autumn. It is beautiful in every season because it is generous with its blossoms and makes the most of the space where it grows. Delicate and tough, generous and making the most of where you are. Good words for 2014, if you haven’t chosen one yet.

–Quinn McDonald had an odd word come to her in a dream. Nothing else is standing up for notice. She may yet embrace the odd word for 2014.

Filed under: Life as Metaphor, Nature, Inside and Out Tagged: ageism, diversity, lisianthus flower