Sometimes life is in those quiet moments.

You know,

Those real live moments that are quiet.  

The nothing but ticking of the clock.

The twitch of a cats tail.

The feeling of a baby inside a tummy stretching for more room.

The blinking of a cursor on screen as thoughts scattered try to come together.

...

I don't want to be so busy that I miss those moments.

And often we are in the quiet moments when we least expect it.

Leave room for the quiet moments.  The moments that take us by surprise and make us pause.  Pause further.  Press into the silence.  There is something there worth finding.  Something there worth trusting.  May it rest on us and may we not be too scared to accept it as settles.

.....

A new year for The Creatives means more than just a number, it means embracing the unknown and in many cases, being okay with where we are now.

There wasn't an agenda set forth or any particular way to go about how this group collectively shares and communicates.  That's how it has become.  It ebbs and flows with those that join and the room for an openness is expected.

There are close knit friendships, there are newly met aquaintences, and there are unknown faces that sprinkle the room.  With a third trimester belly, I do my best to sit back and observe as I so often tend to do.  I take in the dynamic of the room.  I monitor for safety, and I monitor for vulnerability.  Sometimes I sense a sensitivity and work hard to watch out for it.  Sometimes I notice an eagerness in a newcomers eye and I hope for it to be blessed.

The Creatives is a scary concept.  It isn't for those who wish to pretend that they are 'normal'.  Whatever 'normal' means.  These women gather and display all their differences and journeys without hesitation and those that are new to it, I hope are wrapped up in safe arms and feel moved.

What took place on this first gathering of 2015 was the knitting together of these women.  One by one, each and every woman shared and nodded with the journey of 'acceptance'.  It isn't about where you can't seem to get/reach, but what you are doing today.  And 'doing' today is the movement that will bring you into 'tomorrow'.  

One actor-woman has the voice of a true singer and there is merit to this talent and dream.  It isn't just 'you sing well' , it's a 'that's natural and beautiful'.  And there is always a struggle for artists/creatives to feel validated enough to go out and do, but there is a whole group of women behind a voice saying 'do'.  And we want us all to 'do'.  Not for the pressure, but for the love of it.

And there it was.  Our reasons behind ourselves.  We crave to do these things, yet feel incapable, inferior and as if we've missed that boat.

We were made to do these things.

We are capable.

We are skilled.

We are on the boat.

There are seasons where we will be quiet, and restful in our passions, and there are seasons where we will be loud and busy in our passions.  Neither season is to be ignored or seen as better as the other.  In the quiet we are given the ability to see things, do things and expierence things that we need to be present and acceptant of.  In the loud, we are given the ability to take all of ourselves and put it into something that makes, does, is, and will affect others.

Ultimately , we move where we are at.  No matter what that looks like we will be moving to the beat of ourselves.  Comparison isn't for us.  It destroys us, so we say no to it and anything else that may block us from where we are and need to be this year. 

We do 'Dreams' like we do 'Now'.

And

We do 'Art' like we do 'Life'.

Babymoon in December 2014

Twenty-seven weeks pregnant,  glass of milk in hand, savouring these moments that have accumulated over the past three or so months.

They were right when they said the second trimester brings a new sense of energy, glow, and renewed sense of body awareness.  I am not sure if I have ever felt as sexy as I do now.  Sure I can't fit into that dress I bought from New York.  The one that hugged my frame and showed that I was indeed all woman.  But this is something magical!  This growing body of mine has taken on a life that has words to share, and adventures up her sleeve.  There is a delicate but very notable change in my curves and I never knew one could stretch in this way.  Stretch in all ways physical and all ways spiritual.

Pregnancy is a spiritual thing I have come to realize.

It is an ode to creation and all things that speak to something more.  I have been digging for the more, and it has been refreshing and renewing.

She bumps and turns.  She hiccups and kicks.  She has felt the rumble of her cats purr above her while they sleep and she has learned that her mama is a reader and a singer.

My heart began to burn during these moments and I realized how much it truly does burn.  A mama will burn for all things to procure a journey for a life.  It's realizing the values and morals.  The hopes and dreams.  The way in which we crave to raise her.  It brings a new sense of reason to the day to day.  And we aren't scared.  

We've been through fire and we came out refined.  We'd do it again.

So all this talk about parenthood taking us out:  

"You'll never have your body back."

"You'll never pee normal again."

"Save up on your sleep now, you won't get it back for a long time."

"Say goodbye to a social life."

I call those negative, destructive words and claims over our lives out.  They have no place over us, and no claim on our hearts.

Because people trash real life as if it's a shame.  They walk around wounded that life has seasons and responsibility.  They miss the real life moments because they are too busy thinking they got tricked by a transition.. 

So those people who like to sarcastically add 'helpful' quips to a soon-to-be-mamas heart...they don't have it right.  They have it all messed up and contaminated.  Life is meant to be lived not everyday the same, but everyday anew.  I won't trick myself into thinking that my physical, my mental, my emotional can maintain the same.  I'll be renewing it again and again, because I want to enjoy this life and all it's seasons no matter the circumstance.  No matter the convienence or inconvenience.  

This has been magical.

These months of growth have been filled with glimmer and sprinkled with worry.

All the way it is supposed to be.

Because she is life, and life is full of all the moments.

Not just one. 

The calendar is starting new this first full week and there isn't a soul on this earth who can tell you what you need to put in it.  People sledge hammer their way through this life and through our weeks.  Go here, do that, make time for this and don't forget I need you to...

The calendar is full of boxes.  January has 31 boxes and only twenty-four boxes left.  

Our calling goes beyond the box of a day, beyond the needs of others and beyond the labels that people slap on our days as if it's theirs.

Your days are not anyone else's but yours and the One who created your days. 

It's a limited life that we have lived with our boxes and our square instagrams telling our moments within the confines of a simple shape.  Life is beyond the shapes, beyond the upcoming and the unknowing.

This is the time to make your calendar a different shape.  Metaphorically I mean, because the squares aren't really the problem.  The problem is us.  How we let them define us and create us into walking squares of limitations.

This is the week we let our squares lose their shape and we become who we were meant to be.  What we want for 2015 that is beyond our boxes and our limited world view.

I'll start:

Amy Grace - 2015

• Create a life that welcomes baby without the sacrifice of personal identity
• Purchase new home that fits our desires and needs
• See growth & maturity in work 

These sound all vague and pretty right?  So I'll redefine it because what I actually mean is this:

• Being 'Amy' before 'Mama' will keep your feet on the ground.  You know this, so live it.  Shake off others expectations of 'mama-hood' because you are your own version of 'mama'.  
• Don't settle for a house just because you need one.  Yes, you need one, and that nature, ocean spray home is out there.  So go and get it, and don't think you can't.
• Friggen, just blast work on loud this Winter and don't stop there.  You glow when you work so you just keep it glowing, because becoming a mama is going to be the best thing for your word pocket and life. 

Thats what it looks like.  To burst through the box.  It means to get down and honest with the depth of you and then take the limitations off and put the gloves on.  

Stop tidying up your days with 'appropriate wording' and just 'get real'.

Tear down your life so God can build you back up.  Yeah, I said God... because no matter who you think made your beating heart, you've got one and that heart needs to be tended this year.  And hearts aren't stored in a box.  They are stored inside your unique shape.

So break down your limitations of what's possible and start 2015 with limitations on what's impossible.

The Dalhousie Swing Dance Society has graciously asked me to MC  their now annual Halifax Swing Exchange of 2014.  

"You're Intentionally Amy." My Grandmother says with a smile back to me, often after I let how I truly feel slip out in ways that aren't always delicate.   Delicate was never something I felt described me, so this whole middle name of Grace thing didn't mean anything to me.  Not until I realized that Grace had a whole other definition outside 'graceful like a ballerina'.

Before this small website, there was "Amy: With Intentions".   At the time it was a dare to myself to learn how to write again.  A weekly exercise to get me writing and focus on the things I felt were important as I walked into my twenties. I didn't know it then, but that was the journey back to my core.  It took some years but Amy With Intentions became a blog I was happy with leaving behind and focusing on other things.  The concept of intentional living had sunk deep within my soul and somehow became a part of me. 

Intentional means to drop your expectations of the moment you are in.  It means that you are in the 'here and now' and you will be and find out what 'this now' means.  Eating a simple lunch brings a whole new expierence when it is done with intention.  A pinterest board made out of wishful thinking becomes a vision board full of potential and action.  An autumn walk becomes a journey for your soul... Anything and everything becomes a whole new expierence when intention is involved!

Breathing becomes a moment to remember, and when I write words on my chalk board painted fridge I think different, because words carry intentions and energy.  I may as well grasp this intentional thing for all its worth and write quotes and things that will inspire, move and help create a better place.  

So I choose the intentional life because the alternative is a side of me that brings nothing good.  I can be destructive, and so can anyone really.  I found a way to get to the best of me, and it's not me doing it.  I call it out right here and now.  It is a deeper calling on my heart and I know that God places desires in each of us, and for me it is to live fully and grasp the moments, so maybe intentional is my natural and most best place to be

Either way.  I do it

This intentional life.

I live it. 

©2014 Jeremy Lai

The past thirteen weeks have been the most humbling weeks of my life.  I assume that the humbling has just begun, because you see... I am carrying a life. A life completely different from me.  A life full of unique possibilities and although it may share half of my DNA it has a unique voice that I cannot speak to.

We are calling 'it' Roo while we wait for the big ultrasound appointment coming up in about a month or so.  Names have been picked out but wait for delivery day to get used and for now Roo, because of Kangaroos ... and if anyone knows Winnie the Pooh, I need not explain.

Considering myself to be 'A Maker' this is about as 'Maker' as one can get.  This growing belly, heart beat inside of me, and purging my stomach of foods and smells I cannot stand.  This is the ultimate making.  I am a factory for life, dreams, hopes and personality.

This hasn't been easy, this morning sickness thing.  We mamas brave the storm of life and vomit in all sorts of places.  Cars, parking lots, garbage cans, toilets...other peoples toilets... we do what we can to stay hydrated and fed, but the truth is, it is the ultimate test.

Can you take care of your child's mother the way she deserves?

It would be so easy to skip the water and the meals... trust me,.... when you are vomiting daily...the concept of meals becomes a chore and for a fooide like me, well, utterly disappointing.

I have felt a little less than.

Sure, I get it, the hormones do that.  But the 'doer' and the 'maker' of me is yelling daily.  "Get up!  GO!  Do it all! Dance, write, sing, party, don't be slaking!"

I let it slip out a time or too.

"I am not making anything of worth right now!" 

A woman or two scowl in reply. 

"You are making a human being of major worth right now!"

And I slump back and realize that the purging of my stomach and the whole shift of my life is for the health and goodness for a tiny soul inside, and for me as well.  Because becoming a mama isn't a sentence for an artist.  It's a blessing. 

A child's eyes have the wonder every writer, painter, dancer, singer, musician needs and I will be drenched in it.  However this tiny life comes out, I will see life new and different because of it, and that will only make me better for it.

So I guess the morning routine of pee, vomit-in-garbage-can , and husband passes breakfast to slowly digest, is all worth it, and truly... how amazing is this growing belly?

©2014 Jeremy Lai

I choose Grace again and again.  It's inescapable.  Not only because it is my middle name but because it is the call on this world.  It is the concept we all are living under if we only just grabbed the keys that hang around our necks.  We all have grace keys.  We all have grace moments and we all have the ability to pass on a grace key to someone else.

I freely talk about that time I did the unthinkable.  That time that swept me off my feet and made me think I was made out of heart break and endless pain.  Comments were made from sideliners, from the grace-holders who kept it hidden in fists instead of in open palms, and I was trashed.  I wasn't worth the risk or the comments of nothing more than disgust.  I was that bride who chose to throw the veil in the trash can because I couldn't fathom a way out.  So I torched a union for something that glittered gold in moments.  And the glitter moments, they were real and messed up, because that is how it is with people who are lost...they make unions in pain and they connect over loss and emotions run ragged from running.  

Running from Grace.

Everyone was running from Grace.

Everyone around that scene were grace-key-holders, stuffing them in the deepest pockets they could find because they couldn't comprehend how passing a key to three messed up spirits could solve the mystery they couldn't relate to.

And when it was all said and done and everyone was in their corners of destructed love and lies .... it was all just a hopeless mess.

But something happens in the hopeless.  Grace-keys shine , and those who can get over the egos, the pain, the denial and the rift of people trashing, they grasp the key and hold it out...they would rather pass on grace then let anymore of this continue.

And I tell you this, because this Canadian-Church raised girl in a generation of God-Isn't-Real, found more in a Grace that is gifted than in the solutions of this world.

I tell you this because I am watching all these broken stories and I want to hold my key high and shout Grace at the sky.  I want to cry with the hearts rather than ignore them.  I want to gather the men and women who found solace in each other, broke one another and tell them I understand.  That Grace understands.  That there isn't a messed up moment that couldn't be redeemed.  I want to tell them that I have seen miracles and I have seen new life come out of the cemetery of my dead one.

I want to sing and dance Grace all over these hearts because they need it, they will thrive in it, and I know that my Grace giving God has more in store than just blood and a cross.  There is everything fresh and renewed and that show,  it is not sold out, because it is yours and you are the honoured guest to a Grace-Event made just for you. 

So stop withholding Grace from each other, because that cheating wife, and that sneaking man, and that desperate husband just needed Gods Grace.  

I was that wife, and I couldn't have remarried a husband and found a whole new life if it wasn't for the messed up wedding and the  Grace that was given to me.

Give Grace like you would give water to a thirsty man.  Give grace even when the betrayal is deep and the circumstances bloody.  

Give Grace because the alternative is a war within your spirit that you will never overcome.

----

The key I am wearing is from  http://www.thegivingkeys.com where keys are made, bought and given.  Read their story http://www.thegivingkeys.com/pages/about-us 

I will be giving this key away this season to someone who needs Grace ... which is all of us.  

©2014 Jeremy Lai

Sometimes I ask myself the question "Why write?  Why write at all?" 

It's a question that comes out from the dark places.  The places I go to when things are not as intentional as I want them to be.  Because, lets face it...I thrive on the intentional.  I get energy, drive and life from inhaling an intention.  

But even intentions get stale and become like bad morning breath that you can't seem to chase away.

So in those moments I ask myself why I do it at all... I know its a dumb question and I know I always and forever will be tripping over audible words in conversation only to quickly go and write it down and find myself there in the paragraphs all precise and clear.

But I have to ask.

And I always come back to.

I was made to be a word/story girl.

I know this.

It has come back to me again, and again.

After a book consumed, a new intention written down, a new story in progress, a new journal it all gives me the biggest rush that only a romance can give.

And thats it

I am in love with words and story.  Head over heels, an addict really.  I consume them like water in dessert. 

I write because if I didn't, I would not be me.  I would not be Amy Grace.  Girl of intentional living with words and story as her harmony. 

There are stacks and stacks of journals from age six onward that prove writing isn't just a hobby for me.  Its a way of life.  It is the way I find myself and reunite with my spirit and soul.  Journals are not for the ones in denial, they cannot lie or tell a story a different way when things go different.  Journals are the historical documentation of every idea, thought, dream, wish and attempt.  These are the books that have helped me work through life one step at a time.  And those gaps of times when I didn't write...when pages glare empty or a journal abandoned too early.  Those are the markings of when I was in denial and recovery. 

It is important to declare and remind ourselves of the reasons we do things.  

Why do anything if we cannot reflect and find anew the intention behind our whys?

Whys are important.

If we can answer a 'why', we are giving ourselves and those around us a better version of us. An honest one.

I write because it is the part of me that always stays true.  No matter what stage of life I am in, what other activities I do, what people are in my life , I will always be writing through those things.

I write, because somewhere inside of me, Amy Grace, is a heartbeat that lives for words and stories.

And right now my heart beats strong and healthy.

©2014 Jeremy Lai

Halifax, Nova Scotia, Canada is a Canadian East Coast treasure.  Growing up just outside the city but always near the ocean I was everything typical of East Coast little girl.  Every Sunday skipping rocks into the oceans surface of the Bedford Basin and spending summers in the almost deserted but still thrumming community of Sandford, Yarmouth, Nova Scotia at an old farm.  The rock beach behind the farm being a treasure trove full of secret pirate notes planted by my grandfather.  I didn't know any different.  The salt water was engrained in me and the waves of an ocean were like the beats of my heart-dreams.

©2014 Jeremy Lai

It took a few formative life changing years to realize the East Coast Glory that I was raised in, is in my blood stream.  The salty tears that stream down my face from time to time are Halifax, Nova Scotia made.

I wouldn't put it past you to think "Halifax...just a small city with some bag pipers and New Scotland history in the mix.  Nothing special to sink your teeth into."

And that would be fine.

But I need to share... this City, this province is a treasure trove.

The city is small yes... in comparison with its East Coast competitors.  Maine, New York City... they are all on steroids... but Halifax, it has gems.

The Nook on Gottingen opened and run by Mark Pavaloski and his glorious partner in crime Katie Roux - two dear friends who show hospitality that will blow you away.

The endless places to eat good food and have a good time with friends.  The Board Room Cafe, Morris East, The Middle Spoon, and there is even a secret Speak Easy along Barrington Street if you can figure out the place and password that changes weekly.

The wind blows through the city streets reminding us to dream and move.  The salt air infiltrates your lungs as you walk and there is nothing more relishing than a moment with your thoughts and the ocean air.

Neptune Theatre whom so dearly trained me for eight precious months sits as a becan of story among a city full of Indie theatre.  

Red Swings litter the core waiting for anyone to take a journey 

Halifax Local stores collaborate together and become a tie...

And East Coast Lifestyle...a clothing company that has boomed through the stores, instagram, online orders and journeyed across roads...stems from this very place.

Halifax is making its way on the map, and my roots are salty and deep here.  My cheek is pressed to the moist dirt with the fog swirling around me.

That endless fog that comes with this east coast city...it is everything refreshing and cool to touch.  

And when I returned to Halifax after an East Coast journey to New York City...I realized the truth of me:

Walking in Halifax City is a look at my heart. 

This East Coast small city girl of Halifax, Nova Scotia decided that an adventure to New York City after eight months of theatre training was a necessary check mark. After all the classes, dedicated early mornings and learning, I felt I had to see this shiny city that spurs so many artists into action.  It was a necessary and exciting journey to take on. 

At first, the plans were with friends.  Lovely travelers who bring life to everything that they do, and I was excited...and yet, we all felt that this trip, although necessary for me, was not necessary for everyone. 

Plans changed.

A family traveled instead.

 And walking in New York City was not less glamorous then it would have been with my best lady at my side.  I felt her presence on my wrist (a key bracelet) as I journeyed the streets she had walked before. 

I walked into Central Park as the first day progressed and with wild-city-wonder took in the nature that contrasted with the sudden city around it.  Birds were loud as if demanding attention.  Music laced with wind this jungle-city-park was full of moments I had to sink into my thoughts and try to find myself within it all.  City.  Nature.  Nature. City. 

I walked through Times Square and felt the hype, the drive for more...and yet my heart wasn't truly wanting 'things'.   It was wanting 'stories'.  Sifting through stores and although easy enough to release money into a cash register to receive clothes I don't usually allow myself, I was not given happiness, nor did I expect it.  I knew the purchase of items was not my bag.  I have a gift of saving and the gift of spending.  I can save for what I need and I can spend for the sheer response of living a life that needs to be lived.  Money is not to be glorified but used, as food is to the stomach, In and out, so money should be.  The ebb and flow of receiving and using.   

I entered "The Strand" and immediately felt at home.  Finally, peace and courage within a simple but complex building of rows and rows of books.  I could breathe easy here, it was inviting, normal, clean of thoughts...like one could blank slate and think from the start.  There was a canvas bag that said it best for me "She has a way with WORDS, red lipstick & making an ENTRANCE. - Kate Spade"....along with four books I took these with me with pride, thinking I had a bit of my own heart to carry back home with me. 

Phantom of the Opera 2014 

Attending a Broadway show...a dream finally realized with the perfect white dress found for such an occasion.  Showering luxioursly and taking my time relishing in the preparation.   "Phantom of the Opera" was even more than I could ever hope it to be.  The Majestic Theatre presented the show with elegance and standard one could only imagine of.  All the mysterious phantom characteristics like a thread that pulled the whole opera together in a seductive and spirit stirring show.  I could barely breathe when they sung "Think of Me" ,  "The Phantom of the Opera" , "Past the Point of No Return" and "Down Once More".  It was an evening of swoon, seduction, surrender and ended with appetizers wine and amazing conversation. 

Then the Zoo with all it's creatures and awaiting secrets of what animals do.  It kept the sacredness of wilderness and space and it reminded me of everything that made it.  The One who pieces life together for us one part at a time.   

I was moved... I was overwhelmed with joy.

And then it hit.

Overwhelmed. 

By a city that didn't give me the time to be me.  Or rather, the pressures that built to see it all, and taste, feel, expierence it all.  I pushed back.  No.  I need time to write this out, time to go back home and figure out what it was that I was feeling.

It wasn't for lack of desire to expierence or overwhelming of the culture of the city.

The city and the hustle and bustle was a lot less than my expectations,  I was met with what I viewed a normal crowded big city.

But.

Something inside me was upset.

Because the big city adventure girl I thought I could be.

I wasn't.

I didn't want this.

The lights, the flickering ads, the sights, the pace... it wasn't me.

And yet, I wanted to want it.

Sure, I was everything dazzled, enraptured and loving the dress up nights and the delicious food at every bite, but there was something missing.  

The time I needed. 

Part of this, the nature of travel, and the other part... the nature of a Halifax girl being exactly that.  A Halifax girl...and she loves her city.  Her family, her life.

It can be disspointing to realize that everything you thought you wanted was not what you wanted at all.  

What you wanted was right in front of you the whole time.

And isn't that the lesson that I find true time and time again.

All that shiny isn't golden.

What is golden is what stays true and real no matter the circumstances.

The real gold is in you.

Amy Grace - a Natural East Coast Girl.

The real gold is what you naturally do without the push.

I write.

I rest the best in my city.

I love short, quick but high risk adventures.

I am a natural east coast girl. 

This month was without a doubt, a collaboration of just three minds. 

This is the time of year when artists are coming and going.  They are traveling and amidst multiple different projects.  Ultimatly May was quiet, but three art women sat at a table and started talking.

"What were you going to talk about today?"  One asked.

"Well this... but, it doesn't seem relevant." I indicated at the paper in front of me. 

"Not now, no." She replied.

And thus is the way of collaboration, someone shares, another responds and all of a sudden you are working on a multiple minded project.

This is what the night became.  A conversation of collaboration on 'collaboration'.

"What do you do if collaborating is hard?" I posed

"Where is the commitment to collaborate?" I searched.

These are tough questions and the communication of the answers even tougher.

"Communication." One responded.

"What if communication is disjointed and hard?" I asked

I was throwing questions at two collaborators I hold dear. 

"There are two kinds of people Amy."  this  'photographer-girl-friend' of mine said.  "There are those like you, and those like me."

What she meant:

There are the motivators, the organizers, schedule keeper creatives who spear head projects.

and then

There are the joiners, the sporadic, the follow the muse and follow your nose creatives who join in on projects.

"And isn't that so true." I replied.

"But what happens when you have two Motivators trying to collaborate?"  I wondered

"Two Joiners trying to collaborate?"

And we discussed:

Clear communication on what expectations are, is paramount to maintaing a healthy balance and strong outcome of work.

So this 'Collaberation?' night, became a true and honest "Collaberation" night.

Without these two women, who are both collaborators with me on multiple projects, I would not have come out with a stronger and deeper topic for the month.

Sometimes it is those that join with you, that bring you to that "Titling Project" moment.

"I dont understand why you feel so strongly on collaboration."  one solo artist had said confused.

But I have a better understanding now more than ever.

Collaboration brings a whole new perspective, understanding and expierence.  

Collaboration brings unity, depth and life. 

Collaboration is nothing without honest clear communication.

The struggle of Collaboration is nothing to be ashamed of.  It is a true and amazing journey of multiple spirits working together for an end product.

©2014 Jeremy Lai

A renissance tradition that now influences the field in the study of any art.  

“mentor |ˈmenˌtôr, -tər|
noun
an experienced and trusted adviser
an experienced person in a company, college, or school who trains and counsels new employees or students.”

— New Oxford American Dictionary

“mentee |menˈtē|
noun
a person who is advised, trained, or counseled by a mentor.”

— New Oxford American Dictionary

During the time of Renaissance, a young boy at the age of twelve would begin helping the "Master Artist" at his workshop, work along side him, slowly learning over the years the art and eventually, move on from there to become an artist on his own.

Now, we have girls and boys all capable of learning their art by attending classes and through the education system.  Unfortunately, it is those who are in privileged families who can afford the classes, and those in the few schools who have strong artistic classes that benefit.  Even then, the arts span past the famous writing and painting.  School children do not have every art form under their finger tips, as art has grown more widespread and diverse over the centuries. 

We can agree:

In all fields of work and study it is important to be mentored.  To connect with another who is more skilled/learned/experienced, but also encouraging and wants to see growth into independence and success. 

A real Master

A real Mentor

Is someone who is ageless.  They do not see age or experience, but potential in another.  They do not see limitations or doubts but opportunities and hope.  They are someone who teaches by how they live.  They teach without teaching.  They are those that sit down and cultivate and create rather than ponder, obsess and stew.  

A real Apprentice

A real Mentee

Is someone who seeks wisdom.  They do not get caught up in their unworthiness but that they are worthy enough to receive.  They do not judge quickly, but spend time weighing out advice, methods, and experiences.  They are answer seekers everyday they live.  They learn by asking and listening, listening and weighing.  They are those that sit down and ask, soak and do rather then talk, yell and obsess.

I want to be that Mentee.  I want to be that Mentor.

Shouldn't we all be Mentored, and be mentoring?

I believe we need to seek out those with their hands raised, the answer-seekers and start meeting their needs.  We need to each take responsibility for who we can mentor.

And similarily.

We need to be raising our hands and seeking answers.  We need to be open and ready to recieve when a mentor comes our way.  We need to cultivate communication that we are not above being taught. 

This is the renaissance way, and in 2014, we can do one better.  Men and women, boys and girls of all ages can and should be in the mentoring process of whatever art form / field they are in. 

I am raising my hand.  Do you see me?

I am looking for you.

"I facilitate thinking, I engage minds, I listen to questions, I encourage risk, I support struggle, I cultivate dreams, I learn everyday I teach." - Unknown. 

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©2014 Jeremy Lai

It is curious that the Renissance movement spanned the 14th to 17th Century and yet the origin of the "The Starving Artist" came from the 18th - 19th centuries.  

Why has our culture embraced this belief?  That to pursue the arts is to pursue poverty?

The trades, the academics, the athletics, and the arts.  Why cannot they exist together in possible lifestyles and work to pursue?

All of these things are what make our society move, breathe and evolve.  Without one we are unbalanced.

Why do graduated artists from various art forms decide to stick to a nine to five when their heart beats for something else?  Why do so many say " it's a nice hobby" when a writer says they are going to write?

One hears: 

"How will you pay for bills if something goes wrong?" 

"At least you can always go back to the other career if this doesn't work out." 

"It's a nice thing to do on the side."

All of these things stem from the belief that to pursue art means to pursue a lack of provision.

In the Renaissance, artists were as nesseccary as tradesmen.  They studied and lived the same. They were respected as a person who is pursing a higher calling.  They were hired and used within the community.  They were not always successful or wealthily, but they pursued their work, without the stigma of 'poor'.  They pursued their passion without the belief that it was 'a cute hobby on the side.'

Yes, I have less money now as a storyteller than when I worked as an Interpreter.  It is also true that I am happier now than I was then.  There is a moment of walking into your passions and you realize that provision for work and living happens as you walk in faith.  

I am striving to find the stories that need telling and I will tell them with a passion that surpasses anything I did before.

This striving, has led me to taste the luxiourious real-tastes of a dinner shared with others while truly being present.  This striving has led me to the true enjoyment of the ability to study and learn when the funds are provided.  This striving to live and tell the truth has fulfilled me with a whole new outlook and it this that has fills my pockets.  

Somehow when you strive for more than 'satisfied' you end up with an overflowing.  Tight moments become moments of adventure, and when you see provision you know that you are truly pursuing that higher calling on your life.

So just a note.

I have not starved yet.  In fact, I eat more.

I am striving, in fact, I may have more passion now than ever before.

I am thriving.

Striving

What a difference a table can create.  After much labour of love "Barkton Place" home D.I.Y. Project was completed and the table with six chairs now was covered in food and glasses of wine and other beverages.  New faces and old faces attended this gathering and we were all relieved to finally share in another friday night together.

This month was the beginning of change in a lot of these lives.  In all this hustle and bustle of creativity, each artist was going through some sort of development in their work.  

Even waiting.

Waiting in and of itself is development.  What develops while you wait, for one soon to be architect student, is the growth of what that outcome will have.  

Interested to see how these women were dealing with their need to hold in / share / communicate their work or lack thereof , a question was posed.

"As an Artist/Creative, what does it mean to have a safe person to share with?  Do you have one?"

Mostly stemmed from my own discoveries and revelation from Julia Camerons' "Walking in this World" 

"One of the trickiest issues in a creative life is the issue of private support and encouragement for our creative leaps - no matter how they are received.  As artists, we do not need private adulation, but we do need before, during, and after friends, those people who love and accept us no matter what our current creative shape and size.  We need friends who understand that a creative success may bring an onslaught of pressures nearly as devastating as a creative failure."

The responses:

• "I have a safe few people but it was a journey to discover who is enriching to your life and who isn't.  For me, It's more about who is a positive more than a negative."
• "Having a safe person to talk to, is as simple as life or life.  Death perhaps not in a physical sense, but mentally, emotionally...it allows you to keep moving - When you would otherwise be stuck.  Without movement in the creative mind, there can be utter confusion and stagnant waters.  Having a safe person continues the ebb and flow of the creative tide."
• Having someone to share your ideas and be confident that they will be honest with their opinions.

Our discussion weaved in and out of topics and we agreed that being able to vent when confusion comes while having someone who will give advice to get you back on track is imperative.

It is in the knowing who to go to.  You don't need to get all from one person.  In having 'safe people' to go through the process of being a creative, is taking the time to know yourself and know who you need to talk to in the moment. 

The thing with unsafe people who can say damaging things to our inner artist child, is that they are not being deliberate (for the most part).  Most of those lovely people, are simply not equipped or made to be aware or sensitive to the process that we are going through in that moment. 

Neptune Theatre ‏@NeptuneTheatre

“relish |ˈreliSH|
noun
great enjoyment ... liking for or pleasurable anticipation of something”

— New Oxford American Dictionary

rel·ish

 noun \ˈre-lish\

: enjoyment of or delight in something

Working with a director is a privedlge and one can never be sure how a director directs.  This journey into Spring Awakening has been an inspiring and extremely riveting one.  He is a director who wants work "to breathe" and take on a life of its own.  He gives room for skill to be flexed and glittered.

On the last session of 'notes' that he gave, he said something that caught in the air and then slowly drifted down, resting on us all as our tired bodies sunk into the seats and imagined what opening night would be.

His words went something like this:

"I would do yourself a favour now and not do anything else but this (Spring Awakening shows) until it is done.  As a student, I always religiously took off show times so I could relish in the expierence and everything it entails."

I was enraptured.

Yes, I would most definitely do nothing but relish in this expierence, and that is what being in the midst of art means.

To enjoy, 

To delight in

To relish.

Call it what you will: art, creativity,

Life as a whole...

Let us relish in the experience of every art piece we see, do, experience and have.

Life is art

And 

Art is life

That means every moment is to be relished.

Shadow Birds in flight...

Remember verb \ri-ˈmem-bər\

: to have or keep an image or idea in your mind of (something or someone from the past) : to think of (something or someone from the past) again

: to cause (something) to come back into your mind

: to keep (information) in your mind : to not forget (something)

Creating is a process of movement, and there is nothing stationary about a writers year in tandem with seasons.  A fluid moving ocean with swells, waves and stills.

It is on this twenty fifth day of life that I turn and look behind me.  

A far distance from a story that almost wrecked health, relationships, and sanity.  Caught in a current, there were hopeless helpless cries to the birds that flied above from my spirit to theirs. And tattooed birds grace this ones left shoulder.  A reminder of the birds that are freed and given flight.

It may seem like a lifetime ago, but I need to look behind me.

To remember.

A phone call on a twenty-fifth birthday dropping possibilities, and I have to keep present.  

Remember

We all have shadows of our past selves walking behind us, reminding us.

They can be the shadows of truth whispering encouragement, or one can allow them to be whispers of darkness trying to pull you back.

Which are yours?

My shadow is a girl of confusion.  A girl who would rather rely on someone else' definition of herself than step out on her own.  Independence is a scary thing and is it not funny how birds will be shoved out of nests to be taught how to fly?  Yet a girl can't even get her toe out.  And that shadow speaks to me.

"You learned how to fly...see."  She points to my shoulder and I remember.

I remember the moment I dedicated all of my words to truth.  The moment I remembered that I was a writer who gave my life, my words, my art to everything that was beyond myself.

On this twenty five, I remember and I say it again.

"My work, my life, my art, everything, it is not mine.  It is for the One who called me and brought me out of the fear-nest and into the night sky.  The One who strengthened my wings so I could see the dawn.  To the One who provides the shelter from the rain and the worms for the eating.  The One who receives glory to see me fly, Who provides so I can flourish, Who lavishes love, grace, healing and words.  To that One, I live, breathe, and give my life to."  

On this twenty five I find myself coming up to a wide open sky, and I will Remember my shadow life, so I can live my full life.

Now.

It was comical.  To have a small group of women and no real voice to use to communicate with them.

It was that time of year.  When spirits start to sag, immune systems go down and suddenly, although Spring has arrived the weather has not yet fully turned and we are anxious.  

For myself, attending a film workshop the day before and being sent home due to not being well enough to be in front of a camera.  Debilitating.  An artists spirit is to work and when work is like a slug how do we cope?

I laid the question on the table.  Knowing they would see.

"What are the struggles so far in 2014?"

Each arrived and suddenly I heard a quip.

"Do you want me to write an essay?"

It seemed the timing was right on mark with these Halifax Creatives.

The answers?

• Comparing myself to others
• Accepting, transisiotning out of things and into new things
• Feeling inspired, yet lacking the desire to follow through
• Self Doubt
• Physical distractions (Sickness etc.)
• To be clever
• Money, or lack thereof 
• People
• Condifence

And as one so perfectly put it:  "Well, theres the whole 'life' thing..."

How do we overcome our personal issues and use them to benefit our work and energy rather than getting bogged down by them?

Simply that

Use it.

Take the lack of confidence and turn it into a piece about 'simply that'.

Get at work whether it feels good or not.

Creatives are not brilliant because every piece they create is brilliant.  No,  they are brilliant because they work at their craft whether it is understood or not.  Whether it is appreciated or not.  Whether the pay is there or not.  Whether they are healthy or not.  

Creatives create because they were called to.

We began to listen to one another, and listening during a season of 'lack' can be exactly what a spirit needs.  Listening to the heart beat of another, the doubts of your inner self...

"Doubt is a signal of the creative process.  It is a signal that you are doing something right - not that you are doing something wrong or crazy or stupid.  The sickening chasm of fear that doubt triggers to yawn open beneath you is a huge abyss into which you are going to tumble, spiralling downwards like you are falling through the circles of hell.  No, doubt is most often a signal you are doing something and doing it right."  - Julia Cameron 'Walking in this World'

February brings us a full two months into the new year and many who attended have multiple projects beginning.  I opened the night up for those who could, to bring their work to share.  The results of the discussion and sharing was inspiring.  I believe that I was so moved after this night, I found it hard to commit the time to attempt at capturing how this evening went.

Grab a treat & answer a question...

This month, the focus was on how to find the right time and atmosphere to match the needs and desires of each individual 'creative' in the room.  Each of us have different lives and different ways we focus in on our work.

"What is your best creative time of day / atmosphere?" 

Creative Time of Day

• A solid section of time (Full Morning, full afternoon, or full evening)
• Late late late in the wee hours of 12am and on
• Late 10pm - midnight/wrapping up at two or three am

Creative Atmosphere

• Pinterest
• Music
• Working outside
• Driving time in car alone
• Bathtub alone and quiet
• White noise
• Dead quiet
• Food

It became very clear that a lot of 'creatives' feel an inspiring connection to the night hours and are 'for the most part' all living in a 'Day Persons World'.

Crayons for the multi-taskers in the room. 

Navigating this, while knowing our most individual natures of how each 'creative' creates is critical to getting plans and dreams into action. Some rebel at deadlines and feel if we are 'told' to do something we become lethargic and care a less, but if we take ownership over our own work the desire never leaves.  

Everyone has there own ticks and tocks to what makes us work.

After discussing these things the conversation was directed into how to take work independent after 'school' structure is over.  The advice from one woman who has been balancing an intense career, along side her art career, expressed the concept of blending the two when neccessary. 

All 'creatives' need to eat, but worrying about it is only a waste if you don't make a plan.  "At a young age and an early start, she encouraged "'creatives' have more control on how they want their paths of work and art to go.  Always be true to your self."

Taking the time to see the work of the women who attend is an incredible treat and a reminder of the amazing talent that sits in the room.  

Having a belief system that everyone is an artist/creative/innovator at the core, only opens the mind to the type of work that one could do.  Seeing the paintings, portfolio, and quick peeks at their work is an underlining moment to the truth of art.  It comes from each individuals heart and spirit, and that is why it is worth doing.

"You know the marble game?  I feel like the marble on the top." - A quote from a creative 'describing where she was at in her projects & journey'.

GUEST POST FOR http://oneword365.com

We have been walking into 2014 for some weeks now and we are seeing sparks of life. Developments in our ‘one words’ , in our lives and hearts.  That is what happens when we look for change and open ourselves up to adventure.  We begin to thirst for it, look for it and hunt for it.  When you do that, it is hard pressed not to find it.

Development comes to those who are craving it.  And I am one of the cravers.  Together we call our one words into the air and we watch.  We await for what that will mean, and already we begin to see. 

The thing with claiming, declaring and shouting our victory words to the sky, is that we feel bold, brave and strong.  We feel and we are.  But the dark lies of this world do not want us to feel that way and suddenly we are doubting, wishing we could grab those letters that make that ‘one word’ back into our mouths, our hearts and our spirits.  Stuff them back deep inside.  

“Don’t declare!  Who are you to declare a word over your own life?” the doubting whisper says.

And I begin to feel a fraud.  I begin to feel panic rise up through to my throat, bubbling up like unwanted vomit.  My body is trying to purge the word. 

I claimed the word FIRE and see no one else with this word.  I feel odd and maybe even crazy.  But I press on, I work hard through the first month of the word and see it manifest itself in amazing ways, and yet on the last day of the first month I lean against a flame and my hair goes on fire.  Only for a split second, but enough to make the women in the room scream, my heart to sink and my ‘fire’ word to scare me.  To panic me. 

But I read “The Artist Way”  books by Julia Cameron and write down her words.

 “Your panic does not mean you are crazy, just that you feel it.”

“You are panicked, tell yourself, ‘Ah!  Good sign, I am getting unstuck.”

“This means that at our most awkward and ill at ease, we are still in divine order and moving ever closer to Gods intention.” 

I put down my pen and begin to breathe easy, and the sighs of relief flood my spirit.  

Panic is okay.  My most awkward and ill at ease is right.  

“If that isn’t prophetic I don’t know what is!”  A friend who witnessed that moment of ‘fire-awkward’ said to me as we brushed the charred bits out of my hair. 

I had a hard time shaking that, because our words are not easy to swallow.  They challenge and they declare things we had no idea they would declare.  And that is how it is with words.  They are more than you plan them to be and they will take you to a place you need to go.

Panic that rises from the core of your being and begins to tumble out isn’t something to be ashamed of.  Work through the word that you declared over your life and don’t give yourself room to doubt it. Panic tells you you are heading in the right direction, most ignore, but we charge through and find the glory of our words, ablaze and alive.  

How has your ‘one-word’ caught on fire and panicked you?