Still Soul Searching

I'm still planning to complete the previously mentioned Soul Journaling project. However, life's gotten busy. I'm juggling a few photography projects, which I couldn't be more thrilled about.

I'm propelling myself into a world that I have little experience in. And it's awesome. I'm glad I made the final decision to put grad school on hold (after one mere semester - I know, I know). I now have time to learn photography rules and techniques... so that I can eventually break them.

It's been a long time since I've been this passionate about something. Genuinely passionate. A keep-you-up-at-night sensation that seems more appropriate for a teenage crush, but you're convinced it's a full out love affair.

My eyes see the world differently these days. Everything is a potential photo. Everything is alive, has a colorful pulse, a beautiful breath. I see quirky characters in unique scenes and common objects that bleed new rhythms. I have so many new stories to tell.

Who knew that life behind the lens could feel so fulfilling?

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Soul Journaling, Day 3 and 4

Day 3 and day 4 of Sarah Whitmire's soul journaling involved creating my "soul armor": what nourishes and protects my creative spirit. It took me a few days to think about what this entailed for me. I even made a list before I got started.

• Sunshine
• Laughter
• Playfulness
• The beach
• Windchimes
• Clouds
• Friendships
• Scented candles
• Purple
• Yoga and meditation
• Walking, runnning, biking (being in motion)

And this is what manifested on the page.

My favorite part of this page is the little boy in the middle. He reminds me of my childhood, when I wasn't afraid to dress up in a wacky costume and enter a world of make believe. He's serious in the most playful way possible, courageous in a right-up-until-dinner time type of way.

He's my inner creative child, the one I've been shielding from the world for a good five years.

I'll continue to protect him; however, it's time he made a more regular appearance and became a bit more reliable, like his daily afternoon cartoons.

Juxtapose that childlike state with the more adult-like images on my page, and I've got the ultimate soul armor. I'm ready to run the creative gauntlet! Adieu, my good friends!

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Soul Journaling, Day 2

I wasn't anticipating being able to work on Sarah Whitmire's next prompt until the weekend, but I couldn't resist another late night.

Tonight was all about "claiming your journal". Pretty sure there's no questions as to whose journal this is!

I didn't notice it at the time, but I love how the white gesso didn't quite hide the phrase "Today I feel creative" and I can still see the words "creative muse" peeking through some of the color. Misspelling my name with scrabble tiles (bottom) and the word "dictionary" (middle) still being visible was an interesting coincidence as well.

Totally digging this soul journaling  process.

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Journaling from the Soul

"To be nobody but yourself

in a world which is doing its best,

night and day to make you everybody else -

means to fight the hardest battle

which any human being could fight;

and keep fighting."

~ E. E. Cummings

I'm venturing into the world of art journaling.

My friends Cindy and Jane are no strangers to the concept and participated in Sarah Whitmire's 22 Days of Soul Journaling back in 2008. I've been browsing her site for a few days now, and after gathering the necessary supplies from Michael's (with a 40% off coupon of course), I'm ready to begin.


My first art journal.  

I, too, am starting with the 22 days of art journaling prompts. When it comes to writing, I have little trouble getting off the blank page... but art? No idea. I couldn't even color between the lines in elementary school -- but hey, maybe that makes me perfectly suited for mixed media art! So, I'm really excited that this lovely woman has provided perfect starter ideas for beginning art journalists.


Who says purple "disappearing" gluesticks are just for kids?

Meditation music floating through the room and a "beach breeze" candle illuminating my desk, I completed the day 1 prompt tonight. The instructions involved gluing random dictionary pages to the first three pages of my journal, and then writing over them with the prompt "today I feel", circling words for added emphasis. I decided to rip up an extra copy of a short story I had published in 2005 and use that instead of dictionary pages. I also added a little color around the edges of the glued pages; I'm not a big fan of white.


Completed pages of "Today I Feel"

What's great about these exercises is that they're totally at my own pace. And given my four to five days a week of volleyball, bi-weekly meditation classes, weekly Zumba class, the occasional at-home yoga session, a newly acquired freelance gig (emphasis on the "free"), and my full time job ... art journaling without a deadline is a welcomed experience.

After last week's Sacred Sounds meditation class, I've been overwhelmed with creative energy; I can't wait to see where this new journey takes me!

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Reading this post via Facebook Notes? Check out the real deal on my blog.
http://shellysasse.blogspot.com/

Just Begin It

As I close my evening eyes,
I sometimes sense my angels sleeping
in the peaceful corner of my room.
The last of light slips down my window
as it surrenders to the night.
And my angels wander in playful preparation,
whispering words of wisdom like the best of Paul himself.

Now I can just be.
I will begin again.
I am free.

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New Eats and a New Word

Do you know what sriracha is? I didn't until this weekend.

On Saturday, Jolyon and I ventured to a cafe called Yellow Dog Eats, a unique eatery with a country store appeal, featuring an assortment of sandwiches, salads, and some bbq. I LOVE places like this: imaginative establishments tucked away in the Orlando netherlands, away from the tourist scene - the place you'd find only because so-and-so heard about it and suggested you check it out.

I have a habit of not reading the full list of ingredients when I order something new. The Downward Dog (legit name of a sandwich; see menu here) sounded delicious. Portabello mushrooms? Water chestnuts? Peanuts? Yes please! I glossed over the rest of the ingredients, my eyes lingering on sriracha just long enough for my brain to conclude it didn't know what it was, but didn't care enough to ask.

The stylishly tatooed woman at the counter stalled in taking our order, insisting that she "get to know as much as possible about us in the next fine minutes". She asked if we were Buddists. (No.) Mormon? (No.) Nerds? (It's that obvious?) She asked where we were from and what we do for a living. Then she asked us to give her a list of labels we felt defined us. The first thing that I thought of was my Myers-Briggs label ENFJ, so I told her that. She thought that was hysterical - apparently that wasn't the type of label people often give. Finally, she took our order.

While waiting for our lunch to be prepared, we wandered around the store, eyeing homemade wine, dog treats, and jewelry. My eyes darted from one interesting artifact to the next, and I immediately made mental lists of the people I knew would love this establishment.

The weather was a perfect 68 degrees, so we opted to sit out back on their patio. I think Jolyon was expecting something a little more "restauranty", but the outdoor ambiance didn't surprise me at all.

When our food was ready (albeit a tad longer than I normally like to wait for a sandwich), I was so hungry that I took a few bites far too quickly. And then... FIRE. OHMYGOD my tastebuds were burning off. Can't breathe! What the hell had I just ordered? I gulped down some water and ate half the bag of pita chips. And coughed a lot. After attempting to compose myself, I snatched a lone menu off the table and scanned the list of ingredients again.

This time I thought long and hard about this so-called sriracha. Definitely not an inncocent bean sprout or something similar. So, I did the next logical thing that anyone with a smartphone would do.

I googled it.

Of course. Thai hot sauce. Naturally.

I don't deal well with spices. Mild salsa is usually too much for me, and the tamest sauce at Tijuana Flats (the one with the smiley face) is almost too spicey for my tastes. Needless to say, I couldn't finish my sandwich.

But at least I can now add a new word to my cooking vocabulary, and a cool (assuming the other items are, temperature-wise) restaurant to my conquests.