a camera-carrying creative ninja

January 5, 2016

"Our daily lives are wondrous. It's the small things."

I heard this on the radio last night as I stood in my kitchen slicing juicy red beets into a cast iron pan and wishing for more hours in the day. 

This new year already has a cadence much like the old one. I had a feeling it would. Forty years of experience have taught me that change happens in a heartbeat but transition takes longer. Transformation, well, that takes even longer still. 

I had hoped by some magic, though, I would find longer hours in 2016 days. They still feel short.

Today is Tuesday and my daily work is laid out before me...spreadsheets, messaging, AP Stylebook, a bursting email box, my phone. A list of things done and yet-to-do, an accounting of my time since 9 a.m. It is now nearly 3 o'clock.

Maybe, like my friend Amanda Ford suggested last year, I can learn to become a creative ninja. A ninja jumps in and out, finds opportunity in small moments, moves swiftly, with agility, passion, and seeming nonchalance. She is alert, awake, aware, patient, ready, and she acts. Boldly. In tiny minutes she does big things.

This 15 minute break to photograph the light in my office and write a short note to share with you...it's ninja practice. I want to do more. I thought about photographing the mud on my sidewalk this morning because it moved my heart...it reminded me of how all of us are down here in the brown mess of early January together, trying to feel new again and quietly wondering if we might be stuck.

My camera was not with me. It sparked a thought:

"I want to carry my camera everywhere this year. Everywhere."

So now I have a New Year's Resolution. To be a camera-carrying creative ninja. Every single day. 

You?

xo
laura

happy new year, thank you, & "yes"

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December 31, 2015

Chest beating madly with 2015 memories: I started a new magazine. Succeeded and stumbled. Hit pause on big love. Let go. Heart broke and so it grew. Honored my own boundaries. Told fear to suck it. Took myself to salsa lessons.

Started learning to follow, listen, and try to move in sync with someone else, all while laughing. This afternoon I was practicing in my living room (i.e. gathering courage) because later tonight I'm taking myself out. Yep. Solo. Just for a couple of hours. I'll show up and say yes. To anyone who asks.

My two-year-old niece, Faye, says "yes" a lot. It is the sweetest sound. She softly enunciates the s. She smiles. Already she senses the magic in this word.

I am so grateful you have been part of my world this year and so happy to be able to see glimpses of your world through Instagram, Facebook, your wonderful blogs and websites. Thank you for sharing with me. May 2016 bring us all the answers we seek. May they sound a lot like yes.

Happy New Year!

xo,
laura

rain & watercolor change

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December 17, 2015

It's raining today and I am in the process of changing. Moving from one state of being to another. In transition. Maybe you are too? It's not easy. I've heard there is no way out, though. Only through. 

Uncertainty about seemingly big things like love life, future potential, purpose, worth, success and failure...the precariousness of an identity can be scary to put into words. And I love words. 

But lately I've been painting.

One watercolor a day. or two, or three. Or none. When I am moved. When my heart swells with emotion that I know is both temporary and important, fleeting and indelible. That is when I paint.

It only takes ten minutes. A break from the work day. I push the brush across paper and watch the color stain. I let go of logic and reason and even words in order to sense how colors will blend, in order to express the inexpressible.

I understand what they mean when they say that art heals. It doesn't fix, though. Maybe healing is not about fixing at all. Maybe healing is transition.

It's raining today and I am in the process of changing. I've heard there is no way out. Only through. 

xo
Laura

p.s. a little update on issue two : it's done. well, done in the sense that i finally stopped editing and sent it to karly to review for design. it took a full six months longer than i expected. i am learning. soon, we will send it to the printer. i can not wait to share this beauty with you all, especially our incredible indiegogo contributors. big love.