Quinn McDonald's Blog, page 87

Stone Like Silk

I dreamed of stone that flowed like silk. This was years ago, and the dream was strong. I didn’t know what the dream meant. Should I be a sculptor? No, that is not my calling at all.

Years later, at an art show, I saw my dream, framed and hanging on the wall. It was a place, not a thing, and the place was in Arizona. I knew I had to go there, but life intervened.

And then last week, on an assignment to teach grammar, I realized I was going to be within a few miles of Antelope Canyon in Page, Arizona. The canyon is on the Navajo Nation, tucked into the high desert, into the wall of a mesa. We traveled by jeep through deep, thick sand, and when we came to a stop, we got out and there was a red wall, with a dark shadow across it. The shadow was the entrance.

The instant you step into this space, everything you know about stone vanishes. This stone is many colors—violet and blue, pink and coral. The stone is worn down by wind and rain, starting millions of years ago. The carving continues to this day. When the Monsoon rains come, the water rises in a lake, then drops over the side and races down a dry river bed, tilts to one side, and curves into the slot canyon.

Hard rains cause the water to scour the walls with sand, rocks and branches the water picks up. Slow rains cause the rushing water to bring sand into the canyon, raising the floor. Our group stood three feet higher than the groups that had seen it in February.

There are openings in the canyon that let the sun through. At different times of day, there are different shadows, different colors, different washes of light.

The magic for me is that unless a Navaho, looking for his sheep, had seen the river vanish into the mesa and come out the other side, the canyon would still be hidden. The magic is also that a Navajo guide has to be with each group, because while the sun is shining over the canyon, rains happening miles away could already be sending water racing across the sand to fill the canyon. It’s happened before. Eleven people died not too long ago, before the warning system was put in place.

That’s a big metaphor, but just for now, I love the reality of it.

—Quinn McDonald believes in dreams and magic. She’s OK with the idea that other people don’t. She also believes in grammar when a lot of people don’t.

Filed under: Nature, Inside and Out Tagged: Antelope canyon, desert canyons, Navajo, stone carving

A Hot-Water Fable

Food for thought, as it were. I borrowed it (with permission) from David Mankin, an oboist, dad and coffee expert with a great sense of humor. His blog is a wonderful mix of music, life and coffee.

The Carrot, the Egg and the Coffee Bean

A young woman went to her mother and told her about her life and how things were so hard for her. She did not know how she was going to make it and wanted to give up She was tired of fighting and struggling. It seemed as one problem was solved, a new one arose.

Her mother took her to the kitchen. She filled three pots with water and placed each on a high fire Soon the pots came to boil. In the first she placed carrots, in the second she placed eggs, and in the last she placed ground coffee beans. She let them sit and boil; without saying a word.

In about twenty minutes she turned off the burners. She fished the carrots out and placed them in a bowl. She pulled the eggs out and placed them in a bowl.

Then she ladled the coffee out and placed it in a bowl. Turning to her daughter, she asked, “Tell me what you see.”

“Carrots, eggs, and coffee,” she replied.

Her mother brought her closer and asked her to feel the carrots. She did and noted that they were soft. The mother then asked the daughter to take an egg and break it. After pulling off the shell, she observed the hard boiled egg.

Finally, the mother asked the daughter to sip the coffee. The daughter smiled as she tasted its rich aroma The daughter then asked, “What does it mean, mother?”

Her mother explained that each of these objects had faced the same adversity: boiling water. Each reacted differently. The carrot went in strong, hard, and unrelenting. However, after being subjected to the boiling water, it softened and became weak.

The egg had been fragile. Its thin outer shell had protected its liquid interior, but after sitting through the boiling water, its inside became hardened.

The ground coffee beans were unique, however. After they were in the boiling water , they had changed the water.

“Which are you?” she asked her daughter. “When adversity knocks on your door, how do you respond? Are you a carrot, an egg or a coffee bean?

–-Quinn McDonald loves a good story. If it uses metaphor, it’s even better.

Filed under: Coaching Tagged: creativity coach, fable, personal growth, story-telling

The Inner Critic Is Here to Stay

The email was pretty emphatic. “You still have an inner critic?” and “What kind of a coach admits to still having an inner critic?” A good one. An honest one.

The inner critic is part of our brain, the part that handles flight and fight. Or, updated to the modern era, lack and attack. The inner critic is not a weed that can be pulled out of our hearts and minds.

Taming the inner critic is a life-long habit, not a short-term goal. When my clients tell me that they are “working on” getting rid of their bad habits, I encourage them to stop. Bad habits are not stones to be picked out of lentils. Not ticks to be picked off our hide.

Bad habits are useful tools in a large, subtle spectrum of our emotions. Anger can be useful if it points out injustice, rails against inequality, points to wrongs. Anger can be destructive if it scars a soul, damages a heart, or crushes a spirit.

Bad habits are related to good habits. They are the opposite end of the same line. A person who focuses on details is an asset to a job. A person who over-focuses on details is a micro-manager who is not productive.

A multi-tasker is someone who can switch quickly between several tasks. Taken too far, the multi-tasker can’t focus on any one thing and winds up spinning around, not advancing any one project.

It’s easier to think of bad habits as a sound spectrum. Our good habits sound pleasant and comfortable. When they get too loud and jangly, they are bad habits. Pulling out the bad habits gets rid of the qualities you want. So don’t pull them out, tone them down.

Still, it is the work of a lifetime, trying to find that right sound level. And before you despair, have a seat. Take a deep breath. What else have you got to do, really, than work on yourself, a bit at a time, to keep in balance.

The top photo of the old grammar workbook shows something interesting. On the left side is a page marked “A” and on the right side is a page marked “C-” That’s a big difference. But it’s also very real. We do not travel at the same speed every day, we do not have the same impact.  One day we are skilled and sharp, the next day slow and dragging. There are “A” days and “C-” days, but they are still our days. And with the inner critic, we keep up the dance between believing and overcoming, between accepting who we are, and working to move that C- to an A, and watch it tremble and slip and we push it up again. It’s not despair we feel, it’s determination to keep in balance.

—Quinn McDonald is writing a book on the inner critic. She spends a lot of time with him.

Filed under: Coaching, Inner Critic Tagged: bad habits, creativity coaching

Creative Prompt

Let’s try another creative prompt. Remember the doodle road pattern I posted a few weeks ago?

Raw art journaling in tar and road.

It was a photograph of how we repair roads in the summer–you can’t re-surface them, because the tar won’t harden. So we just drizzle tar on the cracks and wait till autumn, when it gets cooler at night.

This (2012) summer, in Washington, D.C. a plane couldn’t take off because the runway surface had softened in the heat, and the plane sunk into a pit caused by its own weight.

The cover up.

On my walk this morning, I saw the blinking light of a paving truck, out at 5:30a.m., re-surfacing the road. I watched the funny doodle-patterns get covered up. Seems that the doodle tar acts like glue to hold the surface in place.

Sunrise on a re-surfaced road

The question is–what are you hiding underneath your fresh, new surface? Specifically, what clever, interesting things are you hiding that were beautiful, but not practical. Or maybe there was something that just needed hiding.

This is a creativity prompt–not just for journalers, but for any way you would like to address it. Dance on your new creative feet. Sing your new joyous song. Sway to your new creative prayer. You (obviously) don’t have to talk about thoughts that are private, but if you feel moved to talk about what’s underneath that practical surface, let us know!

--Quinn McDonald is a creativity coach and a writer who keeps an art journal.

Filed under: Creativity, In My Life, Wabi-Sabi Tagged: creativity coaching, hiding, renewal, tar

Product Review: Sugar, Chocolate, Coffee

Trader Joe’s has interesting spices. I’ve found a quart of Mexican vanilla (fragrant and great for general cooking), smoked salt and paprika (a little smoke goes a long way), and now, a blend of sugar, chocolate and coffee beans. In a grinder jar. I could not resist.

Might as well admit it, I have a love/hate relationship with sugar. I actually think in moderation it’s fine (I respect your view that it is the devil’s organic compound) but I keep moving the boundary of “moderation.”  Unfortunately, I like sugar a bit too much. (Please do not leave long, ranting comments on its addictive and carcinogenic properties. Please.)

I will not voluntarily ingest any artificial sweeteners (I have my own idea of Satanic compounds), so I no longer drink diet soda, eat sugar-free chocolates or any food that contains sugar alcohol. My lower intestinal tract does not like sugar alcohols. My yogurt is unsweetened and unflavored and I like it that way.

Stevia doesn’t warm my sweet little heart, either. Stevia, as the American Dietetic Association says, “should be used in moderation, and a general guideline is to consume no more than 2 milligrams per pound of body weight daily.” For 150-pound person, that means 300 milligrams of Stevia, or 0.010 ounces per day. (One teaspoon of sugar is about four grams or 4,000 milligrams. Six teaspoons of sugar is about one ounce, so 0.06 teaspoons is your limit of Stevia per day). Of course Stevia is “all natural” but so are poison ivy, black widow spiders, arsenic, and lead, and I’m not eating any of them either.

Back to sugar. I like the idea of grinding a light dusting of a mix of sugar, chocolate, and coffee onto my toast or steel-cut oats. I don’t like the idea that the bottle is not refillable. Finish your grinding and the bottle goes into the landfill. That’s enough to make me grind my teeth, but not in a jar.

I’ve waited a long time to get to the taste. And I’ve waited that long because it is the least interesting part of the bottle. It tastes sweet, sure enough, but it does not taste like chocolate or coffee. On toast (I like mine well-done) the toast taste overwhelms both the sugar and the coffee. To get a coffee and chocolate taste, you have to grind up way more than even I, in my most immoderate mood, would not use.

So I won’t buy it again. Much like Gertrude Stein, I believe there is no there there. It’s not chocolatey enough, it’s not coffee-y enough, and it just isn’t worth the price, which was around $2.00.

–Quinn McDonald loves sugar, but not enough to grind it on toast with not enough coffee or chocolate.

Filed under: Food & Recipes, Product Review Tagged: product reviews, sugar grinder

On the Studio Table

New supplies are always fun, but new supplies that are weird are also wonderful.

Here are two items on my studio table for upcoming projects that I’m not sure about yet. I’m sure I’ll use both of these items, but I haven’t done enough exploring yet.

Copper fabric

Copper fabric. I mentioned it a few days ago, when I wrote about Inventables. It feels like a highly-starched cotton. It is copper thread woven with cotton thread. It’s washable and has a coating so the copper won’t fade or tarnish. I have a huge urge to sew on it. It would make a great journal page, but I don’t want to write on it just yet. What would you do with this copper fabric?

soy silk

This is a soft fiber in great colors. (Yes, it comes in other colors). It’s faux-silk, which means it’s not silk. In fact, it’s a soy fiber, the by-product of tofu-making. (Let the jokes begin).

I’m going to experiment with this by separating the fibers into delicate strands and seeing if I can use a felting technique (good thing I read the books I review) to make a paper-like material. That should be fun.

What would you do with this soy-silk? With a bit of skill, you could knit with it.

–-Quinn McDonald loves the idea of not using materials in ways they were designed. She got in trouble for that in grade school, but that was then and this is now.

Filed under: Journal Pages, Links, resources, idea boosts, Wabi-Sabi Tagged: copper fabric, creativity coaching, faux fiber, soy silk

Saturday Hop

Take a walk to clear your mind this weekend, then do some wicked good creative work!

It’s been a busy week. Time for creativity and comfort.

Want to do some hand-lettering? Some ideas, a book suggestion, and a hand-designed sneaker by my friend Lynn.

Tired of all those layer-on-layer journal pages? Keep it simple with these easy no-background journal pages.

Journal getting too fat? Two ways to help your journal lose extra pages.

Diana Adams has an interesting collection of photography through a microscope. Don’t miss the fly with a mohawk!

Have a fun weekend!

–Quinn McDonald is a creativity coach and art journaler.

Filed under: Creativity Tagged: creativity coaching, hand lettering, microscope photography, no-layer journals

Creative Prompt: Lawn Care

Book Winner: Carla Sonheim generously donated a book to the winner of today’s drawing so I could keep the book–I was so pleased! But there were so many comments, I decided to give away my copy, too, so there are TWO winners!   Joy Moore and  Leah Boulet–Congratulations!

* * *

Today we’re doing something different. If you are exploring your creativity, it’s always interesting to play with metaphors. Metaphors use one term to describe another, unrelated term. (Comparing a company to a ship and the financial futures as sailing on stormy seas, for example.) The kind of metaphor I’m talking about is an extended metaphor. (How the coming and going of tides affect the ship.)

Here’s your set-up: Phoenix is on the Sonoran Desert floor. We don’t have a lot of water to waste, and many people have xeriscaped yards–no grass, just crushed rock and desert plants. This is hard on some people who move here from someplace green and miss their lawns. Lawns really can’t be sustained in summer, so September is the time to replant your lawn, water it early in the morning, and hope for the best.

From greengardenaz.com

Creative Work: Think of your free time, and how you spend it. Are you fighting your inner geography and planting a lawn? Are you going with the ambient climate and keeping it simple? Report Back: Are you tempted to make changes in your creative time? Are you keeping it simple? Come back and tell us. If you have a blog, link back to it in your comment. (One link only).

Journal Keepers: Dive into your journals and work through a metaphor the lawn story suggests. For example,  Do you want to do work that is intense and may not fit the popular climate, or do you want to go with the flow and keep your work suited to an easy schedule? Or, do you want to create an environment that’s exotic for you or do you want to explore your nature as it is? Post a link to your journal page. (One link only, please).

Don’t want to post your blog? No pressure. It’s always interesting to see other people’s interpretations.

—Quinn McDonald is a writer and a journal keeper.

Filed under: Creativity, Journal Pages, Raw Art Journaling

Shame, Anger, and Getting Over It

My current “listen while I walk” book is Brené Brown’s book on shame, I Thought it Was Just Me (But it Isn’t). I’m nodding my head so much in agreement I look like a bobblehead walking down the street.

Doesn’t this look exactly like the naive rural girl right from the Main Street of Shame?

What had me nodding like a drummer in an 80s hair band is the way Brown links shame to excuses, blame to anger—and then breaks the links so you can breathe again and feel whole.

When I started to write my new book, The Inner Hero’s Art Journal: Conversations with Your Inner Critic, I thought it would be a big, inventive idea to ask some well-known people to contribute to it. Wouldn’t it be great, I thought, if art people could be introduced to some well-known people who have big inner critics and hear their

story? Wouldn’t it be even cooler if those well-known people tried some art projects in dealing with their inner critics? And then shared those stories? I was so excited. I did not for one nano-second think that maybe those well-known people would shrug it off.

In fact, when a friend said, “Sure, what’s the worst that could happen?” I said, “They’ll say ‘no’ and I’ll survive.” But that was not the worst that could happen. The worst that could happen is that not a single one of the four well-known people responded to my several emails, Twitter and Facebook contact, and a written-on-paper letter.

My first reaction was, “Well, Well-Known Person (WKP) #1 just had a serious health scare in her family; WKP #2 just bought a new house in California to create an environmental safe haven. WKP #3 is writing a book, and WKP #4 is on a book tour for her new book.”

My next reaction was, “Well, c’mon, most of these people have staff or at least an

The big, negative mind of the Inner Critic. (Pitt Pen on paper, © Quinn McDonald)

assistant, they can’t even take time to say ‘no’ or ‘thanks’?”

And my next reaction, was, yes, shame. Who was I to think that those people would think my idea was cool? My ideas wasn’t cool, it was dumb. And who am I to think that any WKP would care about appearing in a book that won’t sell as well as theirs, and give up their time when they won’t get paid.

There I saw it—just like Brené Brown said:  excuses, anger, blame and shame. Just like in the book. If I hadn’t been so involved with my shame, I would have laughed. But I was consumed by the pain of shame.

And then–and I’m telling you this because it’s so vividly real—one of my ceative ideas from the book came to mind.  I grabbed a Pitt Pen and a piece of watercolor paper and did the exercise. (No, you won’t find it here, it’s still in development for the book).

This whole shame thing is part of a conversation I’m having with the Inner Critic. The one that goes, “I’m not good enough for WKP to care about me, who am I to write a book?” I did the exercise, and I realized that while I would love to have those four WKP in the book, the books worth, ideas, and usefulness don’t depend on it. That’s my job. I was worrying about someone else’s job. Someone I couldn’t control. My job was to create exercises that worked. That resonated with readers. And I smiled, because I have a group of people whose Inner Critics I know because they’ve told me about them. They are also contributors.

And just like that, the shame steamed off. Of course I would have liked the four people I asked to respond. But they didn’t. And I don’t know why, and can’t guess. And I’m actually OK with that. I don’t have to approve their reasons, I have to move on. I have a really good book to write.

—Quinn McDonald is writing a book on he Inner Critic. She writes what she knows.

Filed under: Coaching, Creativity, Inner Critic Tagged: creativity coach, inner critic, inner hero

Yom Kippur: Thoughts on the End of the World

Yom Kippur is the Jewish Day of Atonement. In Jewish mysticism, it’s the day our fate is sealed for the next year–The Book of Life is closed and your name is either written in it for a year or it’s not. It’s the day we think about our mortality, the day we think about the impact of our actions on others. Religious Jews spend the day in shul (temple), fasting and praying.

It’s Complicated. Ink on watercolor paper. © Quinn McDonald 2012

I’ve always had trouble finding the Creative Force in buildings, and I often spend much of the day in silence, thinking about what I need to do, what I want to do, what I have to do with the time I have left.

None of us came to stay. None of us know when we will die. It’s good to think about that—and think about it without fear, without regret.

One of the most commonly asked journal prompts is, “What would you do if you had one week (month, year) left to live? I’m always astonished that people would do something different than live their lives the way they are living them now.

I’ve never understood bucket lists. Why are we postponing enjoying life? Why are we waiting to make meaning with our whole life? What are we waiting for? A sign? A guarantee that we have X number of years, months or weeks left? That number exists already, it’s just that none of us know what it is.

Do the things that feed your heart and soul. Do them today. OK, so most of us work to have money to keep a roof over our heads, food on the table and maybe a few special things–but then many of us put off the vacation, or the visit, or the trapeze lessons, because we don’t have time. Well, they aren’t making any more time. If you want to accomplish your dream, stop waiting for your boss to give you permission. Stop being scared that if you take time off you’ll be fired or replaced. Fear is no way to live whatever life you have left.

Of course you shouldn’t quit your job and take a cruise around the world because you want to do that now. But you shouldn’t do your job grudgingly, wishing all the time you could be on that cruise, and resent your co-workers, family and pets because you are in an office and not on a cruise ship.

Look at your life. Look at your work. Where they overlap is where happiness lives. If you aren’t happy, something big is missing.

This year Yom Kippur falls on my birthday, as it has only two other times in my life. It’s fitting that I spend the day thinking about my life, how I live it, how I mend the parts I can, how I live my own happiness. Fear and regret have no meaning here. This is a day that is given to me with no promises. It is enough of a gift. And I am glad.

—Quinn McDonald is a writer who watches the shadow of her life move across the round curve of the earth.

Filed under: In My Life Tagged: happiness, purpose of life, yom kippur