what's in a name?

I think about names and titles a great deal. Words are so yummy and complicated and ripe for the picking in my world, and I like to feel connected to the ones I choose. This is the very reason I suddenly found myself contemplating a name change for my blog. Lola Rain Photography was short and sweet, it provided you with the pertinent information and everyone kept telling me that they liked it the way it was. But, it wasn't rich enough for me. I felt no connection to a simple, informative title. So I began exploring words, feelings and personal delights that say something about who I am, what I think about and what I want to share. I was also looking for this new title to refocus me. I felt like I needed a fresh start...to revamp, redesign, and redirect my artistic energies. The longer you follow me, the more you'll understand that I go through periods of complete calm and complete restlessness. I love to and need to change---myself, my aesthetic life, my surroundings. (All with the exception of my husband that is!) So I set out to revamp my blog and I honestly do feel more connected to it now. The design, the title change and the direction of my writing feels more genuine and more like me. (Thank you Hannah for the inspiration to overhaul my blog!)

But before I say anything about Lola's Bohemian Rain, it occurs to me that some of my readers may not even know where the name Lola Rain came from (for those who don't know, my real name is actually Alexa). So, starting at the beginning: Lola was a nickname given to me by my sister years and years ago. I had always been called Lex, Lexi, or Lexa. Those nicknames snowballed into the distinguished "LoLita LoLexa," and shortly thereafter it became a more simple "Lola." For whatever reason, this was THE nickname of ALL time! Even casual acquaintances took to calling me Lola.

The nickname was a small part of my life until a few years back when I decided to finally learn to play the guitar (something I'd wanted to do my whole life!). I signed up for classes at Blue Bear School of Music in San Francisco where I found a new circle of friends and a guitar teacher who released my inner rock star. After just a month of lessons I began to write songs, which came naturally given my affinity for writing and my intense love for music---putting the two together was ecstasy. At any rate, I immediately penned a pithy little ballad the minute I knew more than 2 chords....but, then it occurred to me: if I wrote songs I would have to perform. Now THIS was NOT something I had anticipated being part of my guitar experience. I somehow figured that I would sit quietly in class, unnoticed, only practice when no one else was around to hear it, and I'd certainly never sing in front of anyone (even though I've been in love with singing all my life).

Everything changed when I casually told my teacher that I had written a song, because coming from a world of performance his natural reaction was "let's hear it!" My face was red and sweaty, my hands trembling, my fingers fighting to keep my pick in their grips.....sheer panic. I have never been comfortable being the center of attention, nor have I EVER been comfortable being imperfect in front of an audience. But, I did it! I opened my mouth and a smooth, natural voice trickled out as I strummed my peppy chords.

A new girl was born that day, and her name was Lola Rain. I suppose the psychology behind my "stage name" (later to double as a pen name and triple as a photography persona) is that I needed to create an alter ego in order to blossom into the performing, outwardly expressive, bold artist that I had always longed to be, but was too terrified to let out. I could almost force myself to do things that scared me with the rationale "well, I personally could/would never do that, but Lola Rain would." It worked. And my life has changed dramatically.

"Rain" came from the expression "when it rains it pours," because I find that nothing in my life ever happens "just a little bit." It pours---whether it is a storm of good, or a storm of bad. It's life. And during those first few months of playing guitar, I really identified with that phrase....and so: the name.

To finish off this evolution of names, I recently decided upon Lola's Bohemian Rain as my new blog title as a tribute to the way I shower my life and surrounding world with my Bohemian spirit and energy. When Lola Rains on you, she pours on you. As for the term "bohemian," I feel like it has become nothing more than a style of clothing to most people these days (think Mary Kate Olsen, Sienna Miller and the many other "Boho-Chic celebs), but that "look" is simply a mimicking of an old way of life. More accurately, a Bohemian is an artist (writer, painter, musician, actor, etc) who secedes from conventionality and society in both lifestyle and art, while practicing free love and frugality (and many times voluntary poverty as well). They are often gypsies, adventurers, or vagabonds.

There have been many waves of Bohemian culture from 19th century France to the Beat generation and the Hippie counterculture of the 60's and beyond. And this lifestyle is something I am naturally drawn to.....I tend to avoid and resist a conventional life, I would rather be poor then work a job that doesn't allow me to express myself artistically, and I am simply off in my own world that I've dreamt up and am living out as a reality. When it comes to art, as my husband says, "name an art form and I can almost guarantee Alexa has had her hand in it and has something to show for it." That's a story for another day! For now, take a look below and you can get a sense of some of the things that make my Bohemian blood flow.

Self Portrait

Abstract "Body"

Photo by Natalie Schlegel

A larger version of the days of doodling in class

Photo by Natalie Schlegel

it's just the beast under your bed

It's 10:35 p.m. and I'm wrestling with the sheets on my bed. I try lying on my right side, but this only brings to my attention that my husband has not come to bed yet and my maternal instincts will not shut off....ever. If I fall asleep, it will be with one eye open until I know he's safe in bed with me. I can also see the street lights peeking through our shades beyond his pillow, which causes me to feel utterly conflicted on numerous levels.

First and foremost, I can't decide if it's more important to take care of my lungs or to get enough shut eye. I recently took down our thick curtains that, much to my delight, could block out the light of a billion stars. But, I had to reconsider them on account of their "dry clean only" nature....and now I'm so aware of the bright city outside my window. I'm starting to loathe anything that cannot be washed in hot water, because I can't kill all the dust mites living in the fabric with a stinking sheet of Dryell....dust mites are an obsessive concern of mine since my lungs took a turn for the worse a few months after moving to this inexplicably oxygen deprived city on the Connecticut coast. My childhood asthma has returned after a 20 year hiatus, as well as my horrible airborne allergies, which only complicate my asthma further.

I can't wait to move out of Stamford....have I mentioned that? Fairfield county is like a vice to my soul, suffocating me literally and figuratively. Great. Now I'm going to have run through the list of possible cities to move to. Geez, things have really changed....in the past I would just throw a dart at a map and pick up and move the next day, but now I have a husband and he has an established career....and I'm just not a carefree 20-something anymore. It torments me to not have a place to settle down and feel at home in now when I used to thrive on the excitement of gypsy life.

Should I put the dust mite-ridden curtains back up? I really can't ignore the light. But, I suppose it's a good thing to have some natural light pouring into the room in the morning. They say it's beneficial to wake up gradually with the rising sun. Ok, I need to turn over to my left side....that's my sweet spot. I wonder if I curled up this same way when I was in my mother's womb, because it's the most comforting position I know. The right side just doesn't feel the same.

I really want to rename my blog.......bohemian......artist.....organic......canvas......why isn't the name coming to me? I've been brainstorming for days now. Lola's Rain.....the Kinks in Lola's Canvas.....crap. I can't believe I am deficient in 3 vitamins! I really don't know anyone who lives a healthier life than I do. I wonder what's wrong with me? What if I have a stroke? It doesn't seem fair that someone who chooses to only eat healthy fats would be saddled with an increased risk of a stroke. Am I being punished for being skinny? I can't help it oh creator of the universe! But, you should know that. Tomorrow I am going to meditate when I wake up, then I'm going to run my ass off. I need a good, long run. And I'm going to go for a walk if it's not raining. I need more sunshine.Oh, and yoga! I need some gooooood afternoon yoga.

Ok....I guess it's time to resort to the alphabet. Let's do "things I'm grateful for" A-Z. A-Alex, B-breakfast, C-creativity, D-drums, E...I always have trouble with E....and I always fall asleep by the letter G.....

This might sound like nothing more than insomnia, something most of us have experienced, but for me it's more than that. This chattering in my head is my constant companion, unless I am fully disciplined in what I call my "Anti A Beast Routine." Even then, there is still the possibility that this overwhelming buddy of mine will pop in and say hello. The "A" that I am talking about is anxiety. Not your run-of-the-mill worries or occasional stress, but what my husband and I like to call "the GAD." I've got the GAD, and I've got it bad. Generalized Anxiety Disorder that is.

I've lived most of my life in an effort to keep any and all craziness under wraps. I think most people live this way, but for me, it's been a shame-based behavior. The reality is we are all crazy (read: human) in some way, large or small. I certainly am, but I'm comfortable with that. I honestly would not want to be that ordinary, untarnished individual with a totally pristine psyche that many of us try to emulate. I feel lucky most days to struggle with anxiety, because it could be SO much worse, and I am a better person for having to navigate the murky corridors of my subconscious and tackle my emotional memory in an effort to heal. I know myself well, and feel strong and loved as a result of my daily efforts to accept and live serenely despite my brain's overwhelming capacity to TALK....and WORRY....all god damn day. So sometimes I start to think about what I might be eating for lunch 10 years from now (maybe my food allergies will go away?) when I should really be focused on the person across the table from me with whom I'm sharing an actual lunch with TODAY. And sometimes I might have a hundred possible outcomes to a problem that hasn't even occurred in real life running through my head. But, I'm ok with that. And I can laugh about it, and laugh about the fact that my number one anxiety is: my anxiety. Think that through. I have anxiety ABOUT my anxiety. It's comical.

So why am I writing about this? Well, I've been thinking about Jack Kerouac a lot lately and one of my favorite things that he ever said is: "I want to work in revelations, not just spin silly tales for money. I want to fish as deep down as possible into my own subconscious in the belief that once that far down, everyone will understand because they are the same that far down."

Personally, the kind of writing I connect with is utterly honest and human. I think we all look for a piece of ourselves in the stories we choose to read, and that is because connection is oh so important to us humans. We want our existence to be validated. So, as I have recently delved into a deeply honest and personal book project with my husband, I have been meditating on what good old Jack Kerouac said because I share his desire. It's time for me to fish deep down and be "real" as a writer. Buckle up readers!

autumn spice cupcakes

This is for all of you who were lucky enough to taste the scrumptious cupcakes at my wedding last month. They were INSANELY delicious! And much to everyone's surprise they were also gluten-free, soy-free and corn-free. I accosted our wedding coordinator after one bite of those tasty treats and requested that she immediately box up a bunch and deliver them to the honeymoon suite for me to enjoy later on. By the time I took my last bite of those cupcakes I was determined to replicate the recipe once I got home. And not only have I stumbled upon a pretty much spot-on version of them, I think I may have made them even better with the addition of a maple buttercream frosting (using the leftovers of the Vermont pure maple syrup we gave our wedding guests as part of the welcome bags we put in their hotel rooms).

I made them gluten-free at home, just like at the wedding, so I cannot speak for the deliciousness of the regular flour version. I'd wager they are just as delicious so feel free to substitute. In addition to substituting gluten-free flour for the regular flour, I also used raw cane sugar and low-fat buttermilk instead of regular sugar and full fat buttermilk. Also, I did not use the chopped nuts or cocoa powder for garnish (as indicated in the recipe).

You can find the recipe that I adapted from the Food Network's Paula Deen here: Spice Cake. This is for a Spice Cake, instead of cupcakes, but it works all the same. Simply ignore the directions regarding layering.

The best part of my version of the cupcakes was the frosting I added. Here is my recipe:

Maple Buttercream Frosting

1/2 cup butter
3 cup confectioners sugar
6 tablespoon real, pure maple syrup

Thoroughly cream butter and sugar, adding maple syrup until light and spreadable.

I used my KitchenAid for both the cupcakes, and frosting....perfection. Enjoy!

the scent of childhood

I live life as one enormous sensory experience. I suppose that applies to everyone, but I do believe we all have entirely different and particular ways of experiencing and processing the world. For me, vision and scent are the apex of my memory. I am an eternal child in that I insist on touching and smelling everything. For example, my husband has to physically pull me out of the body care aisle at Whole Foods on every single grocery shopping trip. I just cannot help myself from picking up all the chunks of oddly shaped homemade soap or from opening the enticing bottles of organic shampoo and bubble bath....I...MUST.....SMELL. It's a little crazy, I know.

They say that scent recollection is the most powerful form of long-term memory, because the olfactory bulb is part of the brain's limbic system, otherwise known as the "emotional brain." When you smell a new scent your brain forges a link between the smell and memory, which is why a simple whiff of bubblegum can send you back to KB Toy store where you used to stand in line waiting to purchase your Big League Chew (if you were a child of the 80's you might remember that fabulous chewing gum that was meant to mimic chewing tobacco--how child appropriate!). Well, this explains why I seem to have a constant influx of flashbacks flooding through my mind given I'm constantly smelling everything I walk by!

At any rate, I had such a flashback experience the other day when I suddenly felt the intense need to make an english muffin pizza (or in this case, a gluten free toast pizza because I'm allergic to wheat). I have not had this tasty childhood treat since I was probably 13 years old, but in the middle of a writing session with my husband I was wildly stricken with an overwhelming need for one. I can't explain that....perhaps it's because I was writing about my childhood? I'm not sure. But, my husband was a willing participant in the toast pizza craze.

We were both sent back to those after school days of fixing easy snacks the minute we could smell the pasta sauce and melting cheese waft out of the oven. And OH did I enjoy every bite of that "pizza." I would've considered updating it to an adult version by making it on a lovely french bread, adding some fresh garlic and basil, and topping it with buffalo mozzarella.....but, I'm not sure it would've been the same. Sometimes, we need to travel back and revisit a long forgotten memory. And I think when the desire strikes we should run with it, because our brain and subconscious are far more intelligent than "we" are. There is always a reason for what seems like a "random" thought or desire, and I happen to be one of those people who trusts what I don't know and allows herself to be led into the unknown.

So, close your eyes and experience the world of your senses! Who knows where it will take you.

(Oh, and yes, those are pictures of a younger Lola Rain:)

a (rather extensive) window into lola's style & soul

Natalie Schlegel Photography

I've always been drawn to the aesthetic in life, so it's no surprise that I am overly observant of a person's style--the way they decorate their physical body and also the way they decorate the physical space they live in. My memory is nearly photographic when it comes to this...I'm actually borderline embarrassed of the level of detail I can recall on such matters. And I've always been this way. I suppose in the past it made me feel self conscious (ok, I suppose it still does!), because I felt so interested in style that it made me such a highly observant person (read: a lot of losing myself in what appears to be spacing out). I could write a book about this topic alone, but what I have been thinking about lately is this sense I've always had about not having my own personal style, which honestly makes no sense, but it's how I've felt up until recently.

As much as I admire and am drawn to some specific styles, when it comes to my body and my home I tend to have a hard time choosing items that I feel like I should be incorporating into my life. It's that idea of "should" that bothers me. And it's the idea of "should" that has led me to feel as if I don't have a personal style. The "should" issue is a long story, but mostly I have felt like I was stuck in an era or numerical age that "should" be over and done with.

The overwhelmingly obvious fact is that I have a rather strong style....it's ecclectic (like me) and fuses together a combination of pretty mainstream style with a bohemian flair and powerful touches of all things homemade and personal. And regardless of my feelings about not having an aesthetic identity, I have forever heard from all that know me "oh, that's SO Alexa!" And I've forever been told that every one of the million homes I've made for myself has had my energy and personality written all over it.

So, here is a little glimpse into my home. A small collection of things that I guess one could say are "very Alexa."

This is my favorite bookshelf in my home. It is a rather accurate reflection of "Alexa." The combinations of colors, the personal items and their meaningful stories (everything I own has to have a "story!"), the way it sits next to the hand drum I bought on the beach in San Diego....ahhh, I just love this display.

I love things arranged by color....I'd wager that almost anything you can think of is organized by color in my home. Example #1: books. Books are equally as lovely to look at as they are to read in my opinion.

Aside from books, you can also find on these shelves: a potted cactus plant that is actually the "baby" of a cactus plant that my long deceased grandmother owned. I believe the mother plant is close to 60 yrs old? Crazy. Next, a gorgeous wooden Buddha head that I bought while living in San Diego years ago. And a wooden box with an Emerson quote inscribed on the top ("What lies behind us and what lies before us are small matters compared to what lies within us."). Inside the box is an amazingly ornate compass given to my husband by one of his many fans (a student of his).

On the second shelf is one of my favorite belongings: my wooden thinker man. He really reminded me of myself when I saw him on a street peddler's table on the AMAZING island of Ibiza, Spain. I HAD TO have him. I remember having left my wallet at our hotel so I begged my wonderful friend Amy to lend me the money to buy him. Also on this shelf is a framed saying that my late (and insanely missed) adoptive mother gave me on my 21st birthday. It reads: "You are loved for the little girl you were...the special woman you are now...and the wonderful daughter you will always be."

Starting at the top: front and center is a multimedia collage that I am absolutely in LOVE with. My husband bought it for me at one of my favorite places in the world, Kripalu Center for Yoga & Health, up in the Berkshire mountains of Massachusetts. The color combination intoxicates me. I honestly stare at this piece every day. The bookshelf sits on the opposite wall from my couch so it is often within my view (on purpose). I also love the mass of wild, semi-curly hair on the girl (somewhat like my unruly mane) and the Eleanor Roosevelt quote speaks to me: "The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams." How could I NOT be inspired by that?

Also on top of the bookshelf: a folded tapestry I bought at another one of my favorite places: Harvest in Manchester, CT. I used to live 2 blocks from this amazingly mystical hippie shop and I always stop by when I'm in town. Then there's the small bronze bowl holding a beautifully perfect shell that I collected from a beach near Boston. Also, a distressed vase....it's a Pottery Barn find, but I love it oh so much. Next, a bronze Ganesha statue (remover of obstacles, patron of arts & sciences, and god of intellect and wisdom). He was also purchased at Kripalu. Lastly, a fabulous bronze lantern which was the inspiration for the homemade centerpieces at my wedding.

I love the collection of yellow and orange books. So beautiful to look at! Sandwiched in between the blue/aqua collection and the purple/indigo collection. Love. The titles on the books are also interesting. Notice on the left, a book only I would own: The Hippie Handbook.

Ahhhh, my new dinning room table. I have always dreamed of having a solid place to enjoy the company of those I love that can double as a substantial workspace for my writing, craft projects and photography binges. This table fits the bill. We have only had it for about 2 weeks now and it has already added so much warmth to our home. We had our first family dinner at it this past Sunday, and as my husband and I exchanged glances while listening to my brother-in-law and father-in-law lose themselves in intellectual ramblings, we truly felt "home." I look forward to the lifetime of family gatherings that will take place at this table (which extends on both sides to accommodate our growing clan).

This is the current centerpiece on our table. I will change this often with the seasons and my moods (like everything else in my life). I really love to bring the outdoors inside where I can appreciate it year round and at any hour. I envision myself living in a house one day that has an overwhelming resemblance to the forest (also the theme of my wedding...I can't wait to have pictures to post). I'd even love to have pieces of real trees growing out of the floor. Something like what I saw at the Wild Center up in the Adirondack Mountains: see the indoor birches here.

This area was difficult to capture with my camera given its tucked away nature, but this is what I call my "green corner." I loosely (but sometimes obsessively) incorporate Feng Shui into my living space so my things are arranged according to the element that belongs in a specific directional corner (north, south, east, west, etc). This is the East corner of my home, which is the "wood" corner, with green and brown being the colors associated with it. Using these colors in this corner is said to enhance health, vitality and growth in your life.

Items in my green corner: a canvas that I covered with a green and brown piece of fabric that I adore. The canvas underneath it is actually a painting I painted for this corner--an abstract called "Green Clouds." But, I am a creature of change so after awhile I needed something new to look at and covered it. Also, a tall candle with a green swatch of cloth fastened to the front that reads: meditate. Another Harvest find: my dancing shiva (lord of dance, responsible for "change").

I love to collect beautiful vases. The vase on the top shelf was a surprising find (made by a local artist) at the Whole Foods in downtown San Francisco that I used to shop at. The lotus bowl, another Kripalu purchase, is filled with stones (also Kripalu). I won't get into the detail of it, but I am also semi-obsessed with gemstone therapy. This is a collection of (I think, I can't quite remember) Agate and bloodstone. On the bottom shelf is a lovely gift from my brother-in-law. He has a fabulous friend (in Vermont I believe) who makes her own pottery. Beautiful.

All I can say about this is I LOVE all things warm, yummy and inviting. I am also known for choosing a lot of cream, ivory and white. It used to be a little out of control, but now I have added a lot of pops of brilliant colors to balance it out.

I always wanted to own a white/cream couch before I have children around to destroy it.....what I didn't consider when I purchased it was that I would have a husband who could do just as much damage as a little one.

The couch is covered with welcoming accents of faux-sheepskin, which I cannot say enough about! The feeling of these pillows and blankets against your skin is heavenly! It's like an adult version of a teddy bear or security blanket....we love them! We also own way too many throw blankets, another thing I can NEVER have enough of. I'm a creature of comfort and hibernation.

Lastly is my ocean corner. This is the North side of the house, which in Feng Shui is associated with the element of Water and the colors blue and black. Bringing these elements into the corner is said to enhance career success. I've arranged items that represent water or the ocean, and the colors black and blue, on this antique wooden table from Spain, given to me by my father years ago. It's one of my favorite pieces of furniture!

The large print of a wave rolling in was taken by me (the fabulous Lola Rain) and is for sale in my Etsy shop. The photo was taken at Stinson Beach in Northern California. The smaller print of a collection of beat up wooden oars was also taken by me, and is also for sale in my Etsy shop. This was the first photo I ever took as a photographer, at the age of 14. I made the spool of film this was captured on and developed it myself in a rustic old dark room in the woods of Maine.

Also on the table: a glass vase filled with sea shells, beach stones and starfish collected all over the world by my late adoptive mother, and myself. I love the history, sentiment and beauty this vessel holds....a pocket of memory.

Then there is the small purple corked vase next to it that reminds me of something you'd stuff a message into and toss into the sea. Front and center is a wooden treasure chest with beautiful detailing carved into its top. People always rave about this piece believing it's from someplace amazing (knowing me), but it's actually from Target! Can't beat it.

Last on the table, and last in this edition of "my home, my style," is a silver box with a blue ceramic top painted with a Phoenix (the mythical bird that never dies) given to me by a family friend many years ago. Being a rather dramatic and intense girl at the time (and still:) I proclaimed this box would hold the insides of my soul given the Phoenix represents a great capacity for vision and collecting sensory information, and a great source of beauty and inspiration....all things I identify with.

What was later put into the box is quite interesting, but unintentional in reference to a "collection of my insides." Here is the list of its contents:

*A piece of folded up paper decorated with clouds. I wrote these words on it when I was 21: I realize that I can find comfort in my own company. My thoughts run out of my mind and dance across the page in a way that makes me feel like I can create beauty, no matter how ugly the emotion or painful the thought. It is my way of taking all the hurts me and making it something beautiful. I guess that's how I see myself. My strength comes from my weakness, my ugliness becomes my beauty.

*A stone pendant that I used to wear around my neck when I was 12 yrs old. It was a gift brought back from a Native American reservation in Arizona by my father and late mother. It was supposed to be a symbol that represented me, and was said to bring me good luck. I used to rub it and make wishes....all day long.

*A blank onyx stone with a spiral etched into it. This was given to me by my father who wasn't aware of my lifelong obsession with spirals. I've been wearing a spiral around my neck for years and have been drawing intricate patterns of them in my sketch books for as long as I can remember. They are supposed to represent the journey of a soul (among many other things).

*Various coins from foreign lands. Many from the summer I lived in Spain.

*A perfect, tiny seashell from a beach in the Headlands, San Francisco (where I lived for 4 years).

*A bottle of homemade perfume oil called "Magic" that I bought from an amazing Spanish hippie at a flea market on the island of Ibiza, Spain. It is the most tantalizing smell ever....you can still smell the remnants of it in the bottle. I hope the scent never goes away.

So, there you have it: my style, my soul. It's amazing how much one's belongings says about who they are and where they've been. What jumps out most to me is the intense emotion and meaning behind the things I surround myself with. I am an extremely emotional, sentimental, romantic, deep soul....and I think that shows up in my "style."

This may have been the most fun I've had writing a (very loooong) blog entry so I think I may continue with the theme in the future. Stay tuned....

artists need love

"One of our chief needs as creative beings is support. Unfortunately, this can be hard to come by. Ideally, we would be nurtured and encouraged first by our nuclear family and then by ever-widening circles of friends, teachers, well-wishers. As young artists, we need and want to be acknowledged for our attempts and efforts as well as for our achievements and triumphs. Unfortunately, many artists never receive this critical early encouragement. As a result, they may not know they are artists at all."

an excerpt from: Artist's Way by Julia Cameron

Something I often think about when in the presence of a child who is showered with love and support by their mother (or father), is that their true self will blossom more naturally and their true destiny in life will be found with greater ease. I can pick those children out of a crowd sometimes--they have an aura of peace about them, so much so that you can see the connection they have with their parents even when they are standing in a room all alone.

I can't say whether or not finding your purpose or calling is easier for those who end up as investment bankers, veterinarians, real estate brokers or teachers. But, from the perspective of someone such as myself, who was not born for a traditional path, it sure does seem like it would be easier to arrive at those destinations than to struggle through the passionate fire churning inside yourself, aching to be expressed yet not providing you with an answer to the question that is asked all-too-often: how do you make a living?

Perhaps my theory about those children who have been loved exactly the way they are and have been supported in all their endeavors, applies to everyone; perhaps even accountants need that type of love as children in order to become accountants. The problem I have with believing it is equally as difficult to become an accountant as it is to become a sculptor or multimedia collage extraordinaire, is that the world (parents, teachers, even peers) does not nurture and support artists the same way that they nurture and support "real careers." Some are lucky enough to have fabulous parents who make those "other" opinions feel totally irrelevant to a child, but without those fabulous parents (mentors and teachers) the road toward becoming a "creative" can be rough, winding, frustrating, confusing.....and often leads to a reoccurring doubt that we will realize our purpose in this lifetime.

I suppose this is a topic of great intensity for me given that I was never that child with the fabulous parents at home who was so confident and comfortable in the world. I have had glimmers of intense support throughout my life, but never in a consistent way as a child....so here I am, trying to figure it out....still. But, I have endless amounts of support now, as an adult, so the one thing I DO know is that I WILL figure out what my true creative purpose is. However, up until about a year ago I lived life oscillating between forcing myself to become a straight A business student, applying to law school, or working for an investment company and making sure that I live every day writing, taking pictures, painting, singing, dancing and feeling my way through to my purpose.

Life may have been different for me if I had listened to the teachers who awarded me the title of "gifted artist" and allowed me to miss math class in grammar school so that I could paint; perhaps I'd be closer to having it all figured out if I had followed my gut to art school instead of majoring in business; perhaps I could've achieved something magnificent in all the years I spent trying to be something that I am not....but, I wouldn't have wanted to miss out on all the artistic fuel that my struggle afforded me.

To all those artists out there wondering what the heck they are doing with their lives: you are on the right path, you are beautiful just the way you are and what you will contribute to humanity is so worth the struggle to find your way. I believe in you without even seeing your faces.

xo

glowing and growing

"Before you were born I carried you under my heart. From the moment you arrived in this world until the moment I leave it, I will always carry you in my heart."

~Mandy Harrison