Lessons from the Garden

Pace yourself

“My garden is my favorite teacher.” {quoting myself}

The front garden is starting to explode.  First the yarrow, verbena and iris and now the mallow, thyme and roses.  The late spring weather is wonderful.  I have to wear a sweater for my morning walks; and holding a cup of coffee to warm my hands is just perfect.  Though I prefer to tend a little bit every day, life has been full and the weeds have been ignored, so Monday will be a weeding day.   {for my desk too…}  I’ve been in listening mode, as the garden has been whispering lessons again.

Last week, the hydrangeas encouraged me to pace myself as I stopped for a walk and and a cup of coffee, while immersed in deadlines.  The blue is my favorite.  I must remember favorites.

Spilling over

Spilling Over

The yarrow reminded me that sometimes it’s okay to spill over.  Ideas spill outside of boxes and borders as I move and activate the next thing.  And my heart spills over onto pages as I get to the truth.

Change your perspective

Change Your Perspective

The iris by the mailbox smell like grape kool-aid and are amazing to view from all angles.  They remind me that fresh insight comes if I remain willing to change my perspective.



This rose changes color as it unfolds.  In the sunlight is translucent and shimmery.  Sometimes shining is in order.

Wait for the right time

Wait for the right time

For about 3 minutes at dusk, the iris by the sidewalk are luminous.  The season is short and timing is everything.  The iris remind me both to wait and be present.

By |2016-10-19T14:20:33-04:00April 28th, 2012|Lessons from the garden|5 Comments

On dreams and door knobs

Door knob downtown Apalachicola, FL

“Not knowing when the dawn will come I open every door.”

Emily Dickinson

“Open the door.”

In the smudgy first seconds of the day, where eyes are still closed and dreams are still open, I heard my husband say, “Open the door.”

This is odd because I live in home where so often doors are opened for me. R is a Southern gentleman through and through, including soft-spoken, “Yes Ma’ms” and “No Sirs” and opening doors for women.  He doesn’t believe I’m helpless; it’s his way of showing respect.  The truth is between R and the four young men Brillants, The Girl and I rarely ever touch a door knob.

Purple door downtown Apalachicola, FL

A door knob.  The place of ACTIVATION.

It has become my EXPECTATION that doors will open for me.

This action {or lack of action} seeps into my spiritual expectations.  When I look at my life and how PATH has opened and closed, I realize that I have in many ways stopped opening my own doors.  This aligns beautifully with the spiritual practice of WAITING.

“Wait on the Spirit to lead.”

“Trust God.”

“Open your hand.”

“Let go of ego.”

But I wonder.  When am I supposed {if ever} to grab a hold of a door knob and turn it.

To swing a door wide open and Enter In.

By |2016-10-19T14:20:33-04:00February 8th, 2012|Honestly|4 Comments

1000 Gifts & turn around time

“Lament is a cry of belief in a good God, a God who has His ear to our hearts, a God who transfigures the ugly into beauty. Complaint is the bitter howl of unbelief in any benevolent God in this moment, a distrust in the love-beat of the Father’s heart.”

Ann Voskamp

Yesterday was a horrible, melt-down kind of day.  R tried to find me and missed time after time.  My judgments about safety & place for story, like a pair of sunglasses worn inside the house, were my only filters, leaving me with a dark view.     In addition, my sensory filters were gone and I was raw; noises were too loud and lights were too bright.  Clutter and projects were completely overwhelming and I chose independence over trying to be understood.  I cried all day and into the evening when a migraine finally put me out of my misery and I retreated to bed.

Ironically, I was supposed to be counting happiness moments.

I started with a cute face coffee mug.

Then I found a letter from a friend that had gotten lost in the Christmas mail bin.

That’s as far as I got, after that it was all tears.  Hence the crumpled handkerchief.

A wise friend told me years ago that maturity isn’t a life void of challenge and loss of perspective; maturity is simply having a good turn-around-time in your heart and mind.  My turn around time is getting better.  It used to be about 20 years, now I’m in the 24 hour to 2 week range.

Yesterday was a mess; today is rainy and quiet with a cup of tea and a lot of writing.

I’m collecting 1000 gifts in hopes that the daily practice of a paradigm shift towards joy and gratitude will guard my heart and improve my turn-around-time.   {If you’re on Instagram, check #1kGiftsDare_wildthyme or go HERE and see the first 31 gifts.}


By |2016-10-19T14:20:33-04:00January 17th, 2012|Art is Life is Art|2 Comments

Hellos & goodbyes

New Year 2012


The old year has gone. Let the dead past bury its own dead. The New Year has taken possession of the clock of time. All hail the duties and possibilities of the coming twelve months.
Edward Payson Powell

I’ve spent the last several days in the pages of last year’s journals reading outpourings of morning thoughts and peeking between the lines of poems and quotes.  I am looking for anything that needs to shift or move and am revisiting ideas and dreams.  I am paying attention to colors, patterns & preferences because like a map, those details reveal Path.  This last handful of pages, while from the past year, have me fully engaged and here in the present.

I am also slowly becoming reacquainted with this space and as always, am making lists.

Today I:

*  Spent the first few minutes of the year with good friends.  {CELEBRATE}

*  Journaled. {LIVE}

*  Took a nap.  {REST}

*  Journaled again.  {PROCESS}

*  Made a list.  {RETURN}

goodbye Christmas

*  Took down Christmas ornaments {SHIFT}

*  Stopped when I noticed.  {LISTEN}

(See more daily photos on Instagram)

By |2016-10-19T14:20:33-04:00January 1st, 2012|lists|2 Comments

When Grief & Hope hold hands


“Man, when he does not grieve, hardly exists.”

Antonio Porchia, Voces, 1943, translated from Spanish by W.S. Merwin

Sometimes good men die on sunny days.  Bright blue skies and fluffy clouds are forever tied to both 9/11 and the day my daddy died.  While it doesn’t seem fair or right, I have a deep faith that allows grief and hope to hold hands.  Hiked up Stone Mountain today to be closer to the clouds and memories.

By |2016-10-19T14:20:33-04:00September 11th, 2011|Honestly|3 Comments

Art is Life is Art: July – Bird

red bird 490x180

“Every child is an artist.  The problem is how to remain an artist once we grow up.”

Pablo Picasso

When I shared this watercolor WIP with some creative friends, one asked about my process.    These days getting to art is nothing “pancy” as my sweet little Goddaughter would say.  In my world, getting to art is all about carrying a book and catching ideas, then guarding the time to execute said ideas.

Before I share the details of my process,  I have to tell you that my 5 year old niece, Ruby,  is one of my artist heroes.  She makes incredible amounts of sparkly art, full of color and movement, from her window-walled corner table.


She helped me decorate my travel journal when I stopped at her house on the way to London.  {Note the blue squares and gold chocolate wrappers that she glued in the book for me.}


And this past holiday season, she spent some time down in the studio with me playing and creating.

Scanned Image 112290000
It was a delight to watch her work.  She wasn’t worried about how to use materials properly or whether or not there would be more supplies.  She just joyfully made stuff – all kinds of stuff.  She literally hugged her work before during and after its creation.  Even now months later her energy and inspiration still linger in the room as some of her work hangs there and I talk often about her wide open approach.

So, when in the ongoing collaboration with Meghan Arias, we landed on the word BIRD as July’s word, I entered a sequence of thoughts & events that went something like this:

  1. July’s word is Bird… wonder what I’ll post.
  2. I call my kids, “birds”
  3. I call ALL kids, “birds”
  4. When I called niece Ruby a bird, she said, “I’m not a bird; I’m a guurl.”
  5. That Ruby… I love her.
  6. Sentences for poem burst forth into brain.
  7. Run to journal asap and to write words down.
  8. Keep the poem on ice for weeks waiting to paint the perfect watercolor bird.
  9. Kick self into a reality check and just get idea captured.
  10. Put bird with on poem in journal.

My ideal end project is a series of small watercolor paintings that have corresponding poems.  I currently have bits and pieces of poems and sketches for a Morning Bird, a Song Bird, a Wren and an Elusive Bird.  But for now I have a poem and working sketch of a chubby Red Bird.

Red Bird

Ruby eats crayons for breakfast 
and DANCES on a whim.


She reads stories at night 
knowing that she will write her own some day.

She WAVES banners that say 
ARTIST. Dancer. Rubythinker. THE BEST.

She makes declarations that change the world.

She tapes her pictures on the wall; people stop to look and fall in.

She paints flower forests and castles.

Scanned Image 112290001

Her crown is always shiny 
and when she hugs her life and sings her ruby songs

People find their own voices.

Red Bird

By |2016-10-19T14:20:34-04:00August 17th, 2011|Art is Life is Art|10 Comments

Friday Favorites: Patterns, boots & prints

Make new friends, but keep the old.  The new are silver; the old are gold.

{from a sampler I stitched as a girl}

Favorites old and new from my iPhone camera roll

"There is no blue without yellow and without orange." Vincent vanGogh

One of my favorite color combos spotted in an ATL alley

"Be as a bird..."

My son found this nest this past winter and I found a paper bird in the bargain bin.  <3 <3 <3

I like turtles

Found these beautiful patterns at the zoo.


Waiting for my favorite guy in my favorite boots.

dragonfly napkin ring

These are our new dragonfly napkin rings; we used them for the first time at Easter Sunday Dinner.  We lingered with some of our favorite people over dessert.

biscuits & tea

A new favorite from Brilliant Girlfriend Kate.  Galletas Cacaolat paired with Ginger Peach full-leaf tea.

postal pix prints arrived!

And my newest favorite:  Prints from PostalPix.  Can’t wait to use them in my journal!  If you have an iPhone download the PostalPix app – you’ll have your favorite iPhone photos in just a few steps.  So quick and easy.  {And here’s another favorite.  Great customer follow-up!  I got a coupon to share with you just for being excited!

{Use the coupon wildthyme for a 20% off through the end of May.}

By |2016-10-19T14:20:36-04:00April 29th, 2011|Friday Favorites|1 Comment

Art is Life is Art: Good Friday & Waiting Saturday

Bright Sadness

Yesterday was a day for darkness.

In the Orthodox Church, the Lenten season is called the season of Bright Sadness.  A beautiful phrase that came to life last night as we literally sat in the dark.   Remembering The Cross and stepping into mourning, there was orientation and life.

Today is a day for waiting.

I confess I don’t wait well.  I know how to look back.  When I look back, I have learned to analyze, connect dots or tap into emotions.  And I can look forward with ideation, vision and hope.

But waiting…waiting I don’t do so well.  Waiting feels like treading water with no end in sight.

A million years ago, when I was 20-ish, I wrote a song with a friend.  It started with a line out of my journal:

“Pulled in so many ways,  too much life in one day…”

and landed in a chorus that said, “I will wait to be your glory.”

In that song, I was trying to make sense of season of upheaval. It was a waiting season.  I had left childhood behind and was turning toward the future.  But, in the reality of my day to day, I was being crushed.  I was in my first serious battle with depression and life felt like it was taking me under.  My past was just that, past.  My future was unclear and my present was full of unknowns.

I was restless.

I had no answers.

What worked yesterday, was no longer an option.

And nothing had concretely opened before me.

I was waiting.

Not like the anticipation you feel when a baby is about to be born or your birthday party is about to start.  Not like standing at the mailbox waiting for the letter with a check.  Not Waiting-cause-something-good-is-on-the-way.  This was Hope-is-dead-and-I-don’t-know-what’s-coming-next kind of waiting.

Looking back now, I see that The Waiting {seemingly without hope} was a life-definer.

It was in that season of darkness that my faith simultaneously grew deep roots and wings.  It was in the waiting that I learned to rest in the midst of a storm.  It was in that season of waiting that I lost my way, made poor decisions and learned that I am not enough.  It was in that season that I learned that provision is made.

Even when I can’t tell what’s coming.

I know that tomorrow’s celebration is coming.  I am washing napkins, tucking “happys” into baskets and preparing for a family gathering.  But in my heart, I’m holding on to the darkness, because I know that depth and glory are found in waiting.

Our hearts are restless

By |2016-10-19T14:20:36-04:00April 23rd, 2011|Art is Life is Art|3 Comments

Art is Life is Art: Collaboration & 9 months of words

calendar & mandalaOver the past several months, it’s been my privilege to sit and chat with my new friend, the lovely Meghan Arias.   We talk about all sorts of things.

* beautiful things

* creative things

* spiritual things

* favorite beer things

* cemeteries and their stories

* our people and their stories

We talk about the past and the future, but mostly we talk about this:

Art + Mommy = X

X = blocked

X = conflicted

X = all or nothing

X = a dance

X = synergistic

X = not the same as before

The last time we met, Meghan and I talked about how motherhood has changed the structure of the creative process in our lives.  We no longer have the freedom to wait on inspiration or feeling to create.  We no longer create when it is convenient for us.  Instead, art happens in and around motherhood and life.  In planned spaces.  Or in unplanned spaces.  In studios.  Or in nooks and crannies.  Written in neat handwriting.  Or scribbled on a napkin.  Often times art happens in ways that are counter-intuitive to our natural bent.

We confessed that we don’t like it.

We shook our fists.

We may have even cried a little, but just a little, cause we’re tough like that.

And then we laughed.  Seriously, we bounced in our seats.  Because in the deepest part of who we are, the need to create supersedes the need to be angry about our less than perfect studio spaces.

In the midst of discussions about calendars and schedules, deadlines and shows, we decided to create a collaborative space of our own.  Thus, each month from April to December, we’ll choose a word and respond creatively to that word.  Simple, I know.  But, simple is good, since between the two of us, we:

*write words and songs

* paint stuff

* glue paper on things

* sing

* parent 9 children

* run businesses and manage creative careers

* read lots of books

* work on our vocabularies

* and make copious lists

We have decided that our motherhood is a reason, not an excuse.

9 months worth of words.  Very gestational and birth-like.  It is in keeping with the motherhood theme.  We have a pretty awesome list of words – some nouns, some verbs & even some adjectives and adverbs.  It’s a list of words that have been sitting in our hearts and minds percolating.

Bubbling to the top for April, is the word Surrender.  I’ve been carrying the word around in my pocket for a couple of weeks now.  Noticing it.  Looking it up.  Breathing it in.  Waking up with it on the tip of my pen.  This time ’round I’m making pages.  Keep an eye out for posts concerning our current word – there may be more than one.  {What can I say, we’re Word Girls.}  Meghan and I will link to each other’s blog and invite you to join us by leaving a link in the comments.    We’ll then scoop up all the collaboration and share the love.

I leave you with a question & a prayer for Surrender.  {From my journal yesterday morning}

A question:  What does it look like to let go of control in the creative process?

A prayer:


O Love that will not let me go,

I’m still holding on.  Some things are precious to me and I don’t want them to change.  Others are broken and beg to be hidden.  As I become aware of these holding-on places, I reveal them to you.  I confess I have tried to hide and compensate and have grown weary.  I Surrender.  I accept this time and place.  I bring my gifts and my wounds and trust that you will display your works in and through my surrendered places.

By |2016-10-19T14:20:36-04:00April 15th, 2011|Art is Life is Art|6 Comments

Behind the pages: What is the difference between Flee & Retreat?

Flee & Retreat

What is the difference between FLEE & Retreat?

{a page from the Pilgrim’s Progress Journal}

I know it’s been quiet here at wild thyme creative.  No, nothing wrong.  It is simply the quiet of dormancy and processing.  To be honest with you, I didn’t realize that I’d gone silent until a dear friend asked if I was okay.

I have not fled.

My windows are wide open.

open window

{When I want to run away or depression hounds me, the curtains are closed.}

No, this is a retreat.  An intentional pull back.  This quietude is simply part of a cycle.  A part of the reset that has to come after a huge influx of information.  The last few months have been incredibly rich with change and depth, matching the cycles in my garden.  There is huge growth happening under the surface; I can feel it about to burst and I’m preparing for it.

For the something coming.

There is needed change and a returning to old passions

There are insightful conversations and honest assessments

And there is no fear…

What is the difference between Flee and Retreat?

Flee is what you do when you run for your life from a predator.  When, for safety, you have to get away from something – by running as quickly as your adrenaline-laced muscles will take you.  A retreat, however, has intention and is to preserve life and find peace.  You can walk when you retreat…and breathe.

cherry blossoms

This current season of retreat is a lovely quiet with the soft sounds of birds singing, typing rhythms and pens scratching paper.  There are sketches and words.  Plans and confirmations.  There are new things coming, but they’re not here yet.  For now, I am immersed in peace & contemplation.  Visions and dreams are coming to fruition even as I bump into my awkward imperfections.  Imperfections that are perfect for the Lenten season with its invitation to enter into the wilderness with Christ.

I am learning to trust The Quiet – this season that doesn’t have much product, but is connecting me deeply to my true heart.

Speaking of returning… I’m back to lists.

I am not:

jumping through hoops

staying busy just to move

dwelling long on expectations or outside opinions

I am:

occasionally picking up my “real” camera

daily documenting with my phone camera {@wildthyme on instagram}

making honest pages

walking often

visiting the garden

listening to birds through open windows

writing daily

planting seeds

breathing all the way to the bottom

leaving my hands open

By |2016-10-19T14:20:37-04:00March 23rd, 2011|Behind the Pages, Journals|8 Comments

Mandala Monday: Mandala for Listening


Had tea with friend yesterday.  It was one of those epic catch up kind of afternoons.  We sat in the sun, on the patio of a restaurant that’s around the corner.  {She only lives about a mile-and-a-half down the street; I’m not sure how we went so long without sitting in the same space…}  The weather was perfect, as it often is this time of year in Atlanta.  The desserts were sweet.  {And so was the company.}  As usual, I had a journal and a couple of pens.

A Mandala for Listening.

Her story was long and deep – and the rhythm of mandalas keeps my hands moving and helps me listen.  {And stay quiet…}

Mandala for Listening

And a sister mandala from the same conversation: 

A Mandala for Prayer

It’s comprised of words and thoughts in the round.  A prayer both as it was made and for returning.

Mandala for Prayer

By |2016-10-19T14:20:37-04:00March 14th, 2011|Art is Life is Art, Mandala Monday|2 Comments

Art is Life is Art: A week in my pocket

Still pulling my iPhone out of my pocket and capturing our life, one day at a time.

{and still in love with the Instagram app.}

{Feb 20 – Feb 26}

egg flower

best hostess gift ever

{20 Feb Organic eggs from the used-to-be-ours-now-they’re-O’Mara’s chickens.  The best hostess gift ever.}

kitty parrot

{21 Feb DaFee the Kitty Parrot – I know, our pet nicknames are beyond ridiculous…}

antioxidents III

{22 Feb – Antioxidants III – R & I are still on a nutritional kick that includes morning scrambles with lots of veggies.}

chain coffee drinker

daily arsenal

{23 Feb Sometimes I am a chain coffee drinker…}

{23 Feb  And as of late, am always honest on the pages.}

look at both sides

{24 Feb Daffodils are in bloom here in Atlanta.  Since the house is south facing, I get a reminder to view situations from all sides every time I walk out the front door.

Vanishing point

{24 Feb Sunset and vanishing points}

R working

{25 Feb R working super late = me being super grumpy about our late dinner.   I was much better after an appetizer…}

blossom sky

26 Feb {Bradford Pear about to blossom}

By |2016-10-19T14:20:37-04:00March 8th, 2011|Art is Life is Art, photography|2 Comments

Mandala Monday: Moonflower Mandala

moonflower mandala

True story:  I snapped this photo with my iPhone and then went inside to get the “real camera” for some more detailed shots.  My intention was sit down to add more to this mandala, made from seed pods and winter interest collected during our weekend garden chores.  However, when I returned, the cat had been playing and the wind had been blowing and the morning agenda was “to the wind”, so to speak.


The art is teaching; I am still learning…

Dance with change

By |2016-10-19T14:20:37-04:00February 28th, 2011|Art is Life is Art, Lessons from the garden|4 Comments

Art is Life is Art: on daily habits

Was syncing my phone a few days ago and was pleasantly surprised to see that I have been taking daily photos with my phone all month long.  {I had dropped the habit somewhere at the end of 2010…}   I attribute this renewal to the fact that I added the Instagram application to my iPhone.  Of course, some of images are my Daily Garmon Food Photos, but others are snapshots from my daily life.  I’m back to stopping for things that catch my eye and that makes me breathe.

{13 Feb – 19 Feb}

how to justify a donut

{13 Feb It’s true, I eat off the chocolate.  #how to justify a donut}


{14 Feb Hope spotted in the garden, by the front door}

turntable coffee shop

{14 Feb turntable + coffee shop = <3}

Antioxidants I

{15 Feb Antioxidants I}

portrait of a migraine

{16 Feb Portrait of a Migraine}

bedside stack

{16 Feb Bedside Stack}

moon through a garden bench

{17 Feb Moon through a Garden Bench}

Chimay journal

{18 Feb Lunch at the pub w a journal}

wipe that smile on your face

{18 Feb The Girl}

pomeganate list

{19 Feb a grocery list}

some days I come w warning labels

{19 Feb some days I come w/ warning labels…}

By |2016-10-19T14:20:37-04:00February 23rd, 2011|Art is Life is Art, photography|4 Comments

Mandala Monday: {or Thursday} sketches in journals

2011 marks the fifth time that I have begun the calendar year with an extended fast.  These fasting experiences have been life-changing.  And while I’ve been delighted with the physical and emotional benefits of feeling light and clear; for me, it is first and foremost, a spiritual endeavor.  The first year that I took up the journey, was full of victory.  Quite frankly, because of my intimate connection with food, I emerged, delighted that I even survived!  I managed to cook for my family, make it through blood-sugar ups and downs and deal with my grumpy self.  I substituted verbal prayer for food and came out at the end with a huge sense of accomplishment and perspective.  It wasn’t until it was over that I realized I hadn’t really documented the journey very well.  No journaling, photographs or epiphanies, just survival and jeans that were a little loose.


In the subsequent years, I have been more proactive about journaling/capturing the insights and clarity that come during a fast.  And, for the past four years have also chosen a Word-for-the-Year.  {Although it feels more like the words choose me…}


Somewhere amidst the writing and words, I also started using images and drawings to capture the insights that come when food is out of the way.   Unbeknownst to me, art journalers all over the world were already combining everything like this.   But for me, to stop compartmentalizing my art world and my word world, was a new discovery.  The fasting, in it’s clarifying, back-door way pointed to the “everything journals” that have become part of my daily practice.   In the last two years, the images and sketches have included mandalas.  They are my go-to sketches.  I love how, whatever my actual level of awareness, they seem to capture mood and place.  Whether it’s facilitating the start of a drawing or relaxing to let the word flow begin, mandalas are all over my pages.  Here is this year’s word ACTIVATE with matching doodles and mandalas.  Hey 2011, I believe we’re off to a good start.

Activate - doodle 1

Activate - doodle 2

By |2016-10-19T14:20:37-04:00February 2nd, 2011|Art is Life is Art, Journals|0 Comments

Behind the Pages: NaNoJouMo 1&2

in-cep-tion n. The beginning of something, such as an undertaking


{watercolor, ink, stapled NaNoJouMo checklist from Daisy Yellow, Micron pen .30mm}


{watercolor, gel transfer, date stamp, Micron pen .30mm}

CHOICE {NaNoJouMo 2}

{watercolor, iPhone photo on copy paper, well-earned I’m a Georgia Voter sticker, Micron pen .30mm}

“To live is to choose.  But to choose well, you must know who you are and what you stand for; where you want to go and why you want to get there.”

Kofi Annan, 7th secretary-general of the United Nations, 2001 Nobel Peace Prize

By |2016-10-19T14:20:38-04:00November 3rd, 2010|Behind the Pages, Journals|4 Comments

Art is Life is Art: Do your surroundings make a difference?

“Stop counting crayons, just draw pictures.”  ~Mark Scharenbroich

pockets of order

The new wild thyme studio space is slowly coming together.  I’m combining what used to be three different small work spaces into one large one, which is simultaneously exciting and overwhelming.  I know how I worked in the old spaces, but I find myself just staring at things and trying to decide how I’ll work in the new space.   One thing is certain, I like my space to be more than just functional.  I like {actually, need} for it to be inspirational too.

worktable mess

It’s not that things have to be pristine, but sometimes the creative explosions get out of hand and I can’t dig through the resulting clutter to create the next thing.  I’ve come to realize that, as I recently told a friend,

I create chaos, but require order.

Thus, I find myself in a constant dance between keeping the space tidy and actually using it to make art.  One of the ways that I keep my balance is to create vignettes.  I dedicate specific areas that stay “fixed up”.  Whether it’s a magnetic poetry board or a pretty stack of books, these little pockets of beauty give me peace –  a place to put my eyes.

Because ultimately, the work has to get done. Period.   I have also figured out that one of my avoidance behaviors is to stay in tidy mode for too long.  So, in order to shift from overwhelmed-by-clutter to get-in-there-and-DO-IT.  I practice the following short sequence:

1.  put my eyes on the pretty thing, vignette or board

2.  take a deep breathe

3.  then turn into the chaos and DO the THING.

pull yourself together

By |2016-10-19T14:20:38-04:00October 10th, 2010|Art is Life is Art|6 Comments