True art should say something, should mean something, both to the artist and the patron. Through the chaos and calm of my work, I paint emotion and experiences that deeply resonate with others who speak the language of the soul.

Getting a Handle on Your Soul: Examen Series.

Intention: To cultivate attention and awareness in an age of distraction.

If you're interested in joining this journey, all sessions are below. Go at your own pace, and please take a moment to let Mandy know you're on the path!

Getting started + taking notes
Spiritual listening
Numbing vs attending to feelings
Those things that come back up
Run down or run out of time
Digesting your day
Soul growth is slow growth
Our Examen

Because I believe art elevates life. We elevate through paintings, sketches, poetry (Mary Oliver, Wendell Berry, etc). We capture the ordinary and convert it into beauty.

You can do this through journaling — whether an artist or not, whether creative or not. Simply observing and noting the tiny wonders of your world will help you see more clearly and hold gratitude for what is.

Try it: Take a few minutes to sketch out or write about a few ordinary-but-wonderful things in your life. Could be the bird that’s always in your yard at this time of year, or the way your youngest laughs, or a list of your favorite items in your home. Whatever you choose to elevate, and however you choose to elevate it: your heart will be lifted as well. (Image: Analogue 6, coming early Nov)

What if we put as much energy into finding inspiration as we do in creating things?

@austinkleon @mandysteward_ @thenearsightedmonkey
I keep these three open in my browser, and visit regularly. They all are avid journalers who know how to convert life into art. This is what I’m about these days and it helps to have a few running buddies.
 Who are your running buddies right now? And what are you running towards?

#artjournal #sketchbook #inspiration #bulletjournal #creativeprocess

“The arts are not a way to make a living. They are a very human way of making life more bearable. Practicing an art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow, for heaven’s sake. Sing in the shower. Dance to the radio. Tell stories. Write a poem to a friend, even a lousy poem. Do it as well as you possibly can. You will get an enormous reward. You will have created something.” — Kurt Vonnegut (Image from Analogue Issue 3: Soul Food)

Whatcha making? (And: why?) “The artist is not a person endowed with free will who seeks his own ends, but one who allows art to realize its purpose through him. As a human being he may have moods and a will and personal aims, but as an artist he is "man" in a higher sense— he is "collective man"— one who carries and shapes the unconscious, psychic forms of mankind.”—Carl Jung

Quote via the talented Allison Moore Adams
Illustration via Analogue Issue 2: Nowful

Because I believe we live our best lives with eyes wide open:
We can learn to see the truth of our days by drawing our days. Right now I’m learning to shake off that “am I doing enough?” feeling, which I’m pretty sure is just a dressed up version of the “am I enough?” fear. Drawing my days helps me see what I’ve done, helps me see who I am.

And at the end, I’ve got a beautiful day behind me and a little more satisfaction and gratitude at all that’s come my way. Because it really is about the beauty, isn’t it? It really is about seeing it all clearly, knowing who we area, where we are, and where we’re going. (inspired by the artist and illustrator Samantha Dion Baker, sdionbaker for her IG and website).

Even in journaling, sometimes the blank page can be intimidating. What do we fill it with?
2x2 sketches were my practice for a while—like this “pre-dawn mug” series. Anne Lamott, in Bird by Bird, says she keeps a a “one inch picture frame” to help her think about how to capture just the information that can be held there. This is how she keeps her writing to “short assignments” that are less intimidating and overwhelming as long writings. I guess these 2-inch squares are the art journal version of her “short assignments” concept.

Downtown Tuesday morning. I’m there to slide through the library and see what Octavia Butler is all about, but the book is really a bribe to stop by the studio. Two long months sit between me and the last time I picked up a brush, and I need to step back in the studio to remember where I left off. Just sneak a peek, see what’s next. No need to even wear studio clothes. No pressure or expectations on my inner artist; we must walk softly lest we scare her off. But after a summer away it feels like all momentum is lost, and I unlock the door wondering if I have another painting in me.

You may think I’m being dramatic but I know you know this voice—this familiar voice that says you don’t have what it takes anymore. What is “it” for you? Going back to school? Sending off that poem? Volunteering for that organization? When I walk into the studio that voice hushes: my eyes catch the two finished coastal scapes and they are better than I remember and without thinking I know I need to keep this going. I make notes of how the form works, see specific scenes in my head. I scan the room and spread out half-painted canvases, imagining how I can convert them in this process. Before I realize it, I’m standing in the middle of my studio wondering if I should just go ahead and pick up paint and ruin the clothes I’m wearing. I’m back and I want it, so I promise myself that I will return tomorrow.

And I want to promise you something: If you practice a creative habit long enough, it becomes like riding a bike, like picking up an instrument, like breathing. It becomes a part of who you are. And I promise you that if you repeat the right circumstances and you teach your inner Pavlovian artist to create every time these specific bells ring, that when you walk into that room or pick up that brush or open that journal you will be ready. I promise you that even if it’s been two months or two years, your artist-soul has not forgotten. And your soul will immediately start the conversation, will ask the questions, will know what’s next. I promise you, if you build the room and walk in, the artist that you are—that has always been in you—will show up prepared and ready to paint.

When you begin to see your questions as arrows rather than dead ends, you will always find your way.
(Contemplative journaling tip: Keep note of all your questions; designate a page for them and add as needed. Then watch for answers. They will come.) —artwork via Analogue Issue 3: Soul Food, all about longings, how to handle the deep wants in our soul

When's the last time you took a few minutes to watch the mini-adventures of nature in your front yard? Austin Kleon talks about how revealing it can be to sit in the same place for a week and record what you see, “describing the mundane surroundings” and catching the most interesting thing you see.
A few days ago, I caught the way the early fog descends from treetop to rooftop. Last week it was the way a squirrel just couldn’t quite reach far enough to grab the new bird feeder. A few weeks ago, we watched a wasp drag a spider across the yard for three nights in a row (chilling, honestly). Sometimes it’s the way the golden-hour makes the trunks shine before falling below the horizon, or that storm rolling in from the west. There’s so much life to see, if we only slow down to notice.
(Highly recommend Kleon's 30min talk about the Steal Like an Artist Journal. A quick youtube search will get you there, and inspiring shots of others' journals will be waiting.)

Wishing you grace and peace and a space to breathe this weekend.

Such fun to meet people while hanging this exhibit...

September 01, 2015

Such fun to meet people while hanging this exhibit! The Brunswick library is a warm unassuming environment that brings all corners of our community right by my pieces. I hope this exhibit sparks imaginations and encourages hearts.