So clearly it is taking me a while to get my creative juices flowing. BUT I am not beating myself up about it. There is the Same Size, Same Price, No Signature exhibition coming up that I really, really want to submit a piece for, but I just can’t seem to get it right. So now what? The deadline is next week!
I pin before falling asleep, almost every single night. The husband says it keeps me awake, but I disagree (surprise! 😉 ). Scrolling through billions of beautiful things calms me down and makes me fall asleep quicker. One evening quite a couple of months ago, I came across Rachel Rose’s website, Workshop Muse, and was intrigued by her outlook on things. I signed up for her free course straight away. Who does not enjoy a freebie, right! Especially since it involves being creative and getting the best out of it. Although I did not follow the process as intensely as I wish I had, I am now super amped to start again. And, who knows! I might just be able to get an artwork ready before the end of next week.
For some time there has been an overflow of smudging and “not enough sage in the world” and why you need to smudge posts in my Pinterest feed. Of course, repetition makes things stick (no pun intended) with you for longer. So, I read up on this whole smudging thing, and last weekend, I gave it my first attempt.
What is Smudging? According to Spiritual Traditions, Sterling Publishing Company, Inc. 2001, smudging is originally a Native American tradition used for purification of the self and sacred spaces. Smudging is the use of sage rolled up into a stick that is lit up until is starts smouldering. You then spread the smoke through the sacred space you are cleansing or around yourself or another person. Using a feather is optional. Sage – or Sacred Herb as known by the Romans – is, apart from a culinary herb, a medicinal herb known to treat infections, clear headaches and heal wounds. It is also believed to be a mental stimulant. (Aromatherapy an A-Z, The C.W. Daniel Company Ltd, Patricia Davis, 1988)
How did I do it?
Well, not that Hubbles has a problem with my spiritual traditions, it is somewhat awkward performing them when he is around. So I took a gap when himself and the tiny human went grocery shopping. (Yeah, I know. Our household and chores are somewhat twisted.) There is this lovely little shop called Kaleidoscope I recently came across that sells smudge sticks. I am not sure where else in Port Elizabeth you can find these, though. So, there I was all by myself walking through the house with a burning stick that smelled a bit like dope. Chanting is a bit weird, so I just smudged every room in the house thinking of the stuff that I’d like to go away. Here is an article on how exactly to do it. I let the last part of the stick burn out in my studio and placed my crystals on the plate to clean them too.
Will I do it again?
Another article I read on smudging (I did not bookmark it!) started off with saying something in the lines of “you know how your coffee tastes funny on a certain day?”, which is an indication of bad energies being in your house. I don’t like it when my coffee tastes funny. And, since I smudged our house, my coffee has been tasting just fine. So yes, I will carry on doing it. What I would change though are the smudge stick herbs. Aromatherapy an A-Z states rosemary and lavender both have healing properties and numerous articles suggest these two herbs can also be used to smudge. I feel if you don’t like the smell of your smudge, make another plan.
For a very long time, I have felt this need to do kickboxing. Well, in 11th grade my GP suggested I take up a form of action sport to get rid of this thing he referred to as built-up aggression. Yes, I know 🙄 At the mere age of seventeen, I apparently had issues. The only thing though; in a small town like Lydenburg, my options were very limited. The most actiony sports available were team or I-need-a-partner sports. I didn’t like that. I still don’t. So I refused to embark on this sporty journey.
Let me just explain to you how I feel about sport: Nothing. I don’t like it. I don’t play nicely with teammates. I don’t like being sweaty. I don’t like running. And I don’t like going to the gym because the spinning class’ people are far too noisy, the boot camp’s guy gives me a pain just hearing him yell orders at people who pay him to do that?! And the people. I don’t understand why on earth someone would plaster that amount of makeup on their face just to sweat it off. On the other hand, I love yoga. It is quiet. You spend 90 minutes concentrating on your breathing and 30 minutes thereof you spend lying on your back doing what I suppose is meditating. And the rule is: Be kind to yourself. I can do that. And even though I don’t go to yoga classes anymore, I still stretch daily and stand on my head from time to time. I am flexible like that 😏
Many years later – apparently I still have issues – I decided to take the step. I looked into places that offer this type of activity and came across Evolution MMA not too far from home. (You know, it is close to PE’s local Richmond Hill Brewery. They serve homebrewed gin, so I know the area fairly well.) Firstly, I had no idea what MMA meant. Mixed Martial Arts. That sounded sorta like what I had in mind. I then made the mistake of googling MMA. My dearest sweet soul was that a mistake! Big girls. With big arms and big everything. I was petrified by just looking at the pictures.
BUT, I decided to stick to the plan. A couple of messages later I arranged to be a spectator at an MMA Fitness class. And, since I was prejudice about the whole mixed martial arts combined with fitness, I took Hubbles and the human boy child with for second and tiny third opinions. The music started. ACDC. Fabulous. Guns n Roses. Oh yes. And then a couple of other songs I need to add to a future playlist. So far, I was sold on the soundtrack.
Then the class started. A little bit of running which I think I might be able to manage. Jumping with two feet at the same time, which might be an issue. Punching, which is why I am here. And some other activities I can imagine would make me sweat. Sure, there were a couple of activities that needed a partner, but not the I-rely-on-you-to-be-able-to-attend partner. Random stand-around partners. But, what I immediately picked up: no one was screaming or yelling. The master-person was encouraging without sounding pushy. And that really really sold it. Afterwards, everyone stands in a row and congratulate each other on a great session. I saw encouragement. Respect. Support. I saw something that I finally might be willing to do. For myself.
So great, I am starting out a one week trial run next week. Wish me luck and please don’t say “break a leg!”
Ek was die naweek nege jaar in Port Elizabeth. Ek onthou dit werklik soos gister. Ons het vertrek op 27ste dag van September, 2005. Ek, my ma, my middelste sussie en my vriendin. Ons het oorgeslaap op Colesberg en op 28 September 2005 het ons, baie moeg en baie senuagtig, in PE aangekom. (more…)
Gister het hubbles my verras met ‘n roomys uitstappie by ons “strontfront”. Die mooiste middag…so net voor die winter sy laaste koue oor ons gaan uitstort (erge koue front op pad!). Ons was lanklaas op die strand, het ek opgemerk. Ek het my opslag vervies dat ek soms so verstrengel kan raak in die dae se ure en aan die einde van elke week asseblief net rus en vrede wil hê… dat my lewe soms in my eie pad is en ek eintlik vergeet om net te leef.
Die eerste paar maande na ek Port Elizabeth toe getrek het, was ek elke dag op die strand – al was dit net vlugtig na werk om te gaan kyk of die see nog is waar ek hom gister gelos het. Soms dink mense jy raak, wel, om gewoond te sê sou dalk die regte woord wees, maar dit word dikwels verwar met ondankbaar of selfs uitgekuier. Maar ek dink nie dit is een van hierdie woorde nie. Ja, dit is waar: Nou, amper agt jaar nadat ek met al my aardse besittings in die vriendelike stad aangekom het, gaan ek nie meer elke dag strand toe nie. Inteendeel, ek gaan slegs strand toe as die weer regtig mooi is en ek nie iets anders het wat gedoen moet word nie. (Begin jare het ek vroeër op ‘n Saterdag werk toe gegaan net sodat ek strand toe kon gaan!) Jy doen wel moeite om eerder die ander pad te ry sodat jy die see kan sien, maar dit is nooit van so aard dat alles daarvolgens beplan word nie.
“So wat is die punt om by die see te bly as jy nooit strand toe gaan nie?” is ek al meer as een keer gevra. Die punt is dit: Elke oggend wanneer ek my koffie drink, groet die see my met ‘n sout-kus op die wang. Ek sien elke dag die see en dit is elke keer vir my so mooi soos die eerste keer. Ek sal nooit uitgekuier kan raak vir die see nie, nooit dit as vanselfsprekend aanvaar of ooit vergeet ons het ‘n see nie. Al gaan ek nie elke dag strand toe nie is dit lekker om te weet; sou ek die bevlieging kry in die middel van ‘n Maandag-oggend-vergadering, kan ek myself na die tyd in die sand gaan neersit en vir die volgende twintig minute vergeet dat ek eintlik in ‘n stad bly.