What does fashion, storytelling, and sleep all have in common? This week I’m hoping you will join me on a little curiosity journey. I wish to explore some of the homes of artists, beginning today with the New Orleans home of Debra Shriver. I am also going to explore our personal development using our intuition, or psychic abilities. AND THEN, because I cannot separate these things in my own mind – I think we will discover the common denominator here. I believe there is an integral link that creative thinking has with intuition, or psychic awareness. Furthermore, I not only believe they are all part of the same function, but entirely dependent on one another. And, I am also convinced that our very survival depends upon us recognizing this. As it happens, this awareness is also intricately connected to our sense of safety, physically and psychically, and to our ability to rest and relax. They are all components of freedom, and I want more of that.
If you will indulge this exploration with me this week, I believe we will all feel better about ourselves a few days from now. Ready?
The past week has been a bit challenging. I haven’t felt well for a couple of weeks, but the fatigue finally took me down. I called the doctor. I’m still waiting on lab results, but I likely have an infection, perhaps a flare-up of Lyme, something chronically auto-immune. It’s my life now. That said, I’m grateful that my illness is invisible and manageable. I’m learning to live with it. I need far more sleep than most people, and I’m learning to allow for that.
The biggest factor in maintaining my mental health is being creative, and that can be evasive when I am tired. You see, I lose my curiosity and become lethargic…or I become lethargic and I lose my curiosity. I’m easily confused. I am less able to still mind and body and less likely to be internally moved; I seek a meaningful distraction.
I have always read voraciously. There is never enough to read that I find compelling. Love memoir, murder mystery, biography, tarot mythology, interior design and more. Since feeling punky the past couple of weeks I have been laying around reading. I’ve read Designing Rooms with Joie De Vivre by Amanda Reynal. I’ve read How To Be Old by Lyn Slater, A Walk Through the Forest of Souls by Rachel Pollack, and It’s Not You by Ramani Durvasula, PhD. All in hard cover, old school. I would recommend each of them. I’m obsessed with the weight and smell and sound of a book. I’ll buy used whenever possible. I dog ear corners, mark pages with handmade and improvised book marks and if I intend to keep the tome and read it again or use it as reference, I scribble thoughts in the margins. I really use my books. I’ve got a Kindle device and the app on my phone, linked to more than one library membership. That just sucks the joy out of reading for me.
But I have not felt creative at all. Friends have tried to call me out, to get me to “do something, Susan, even if it’s wrong,” I hear my Mother say in my head. I ignore their promptings. It has taken an “accidental” discovery of some new idea, and suddenly I am fascinated with soft fascination. Did you know about this? Have you been holding out on me?! Let me introduce you to this lovely artist, Jane Lindsey. She’s my inspiration this week. She will explain soft fascination, and we will all be better off for having met her.
“Unused creativity is not benign. It doesn’t just disappear. It lives within us until it is expressed, neglected to death, or suffocated by resentment and fear. Unexpressed creativity starts to kill us from inside.” – Brene’ Brown
Here’s the thing about growing older: you contain all of the ages you have been inside of you. The funny Pinterest meme says, “I don’t know how to act my age. I’ve never been this age before.”
I’m struggling to make a YouTube video. I guess I will have to stop watching them. I listen to people talk about almost anything and it all sounds like balderdash to me. They’re just talking shit. I’m 70 and I’m still trying to figure out how to be…I’m still asking myself, “what do I want to be when I grow up?” I’m still becoming.
Let’s face it, we are the first generation that have inspiring models of old age. Our parents didn’t. I have more physical limitations than I had until recently, but I’m happier. I have more peace. I have less fear. For better or worse I’ve lost my inhibitions about what anyone thinks of me. Like Lyn Slater, I’m still future oriented. I’m still infinitely curious about this adventure we are on here…curiouser and curiouser.
People often assume I have money. I don’t. Actually I qualify for government assistance as I now live below the poverty line. I’m not ashamed of that, nor proud. It just is.
I grew up with some affluence, and was fortunate enough to attend a private high school, Kingswood School at Cranbrook, in Bloomfield Hills, Michigan. My name, along with the other sixty-two girls in my graduating class, is carved into a wooden panel in the assembly hall. If you’ve heard me talk about that experience, you have heard me say that it was “the real Hogwart’s.” It was a magical time for me. For starters, I got to leave home. Not only could I fill my senior schedule with art classes, but I was allowed to audit some of the graduate courses at The Cranbrook Academy of Art across campus…the gorgeous, mystical campus.
We were required to wear dresses or skirts back then, and so I set about finding a way to rebel. Let me just admit here that I would often thoughtlessly rebel just for the sake of rebelling, cushioned by affluence and privilege. There was much to rebel against in those days, but I certainly didn’t understand the scope of my naivete’. Saturdays I worked at the Saks Fifth Avenue store next to the Fisher Building in downtown Detroit, my other magical haunt. I wanted a discount and money to buy my own clothes without scrutiny. And I also shopped at the Goodwill and my favorite store, St. Vincent de Paul Charity shop. I’d buy vintage corduroy poodle skirts (it was the early 1970’s) and take out the front seam to show as much thigh as I could get away with, pair them with the craziest patterned stockings and leggings I could find, and my $350. dollar Italian leather platform shoes I paid for with my Saks earnings.
Give yourself the gift of watching these wildly indomitable women through the entire film; you’ll be so glad you did. And then take a tour of the magnificent art and architecture of Kingwood School. “Heaven” was my favorite escape. Even then I would sneak out through a window to daydream on the roof in solitude. Believe me, I never took a moment of it for granted. I still don’t.
Are you okay with dying? Artist Peter van Straten says no. He’s completely fallen in love with reality. “If you don’t take reality for granted, then whatever is in front of you is miraculous.”
How insightful he is, to realize that when you are not friends with yourself you are in solitary confinement. That’s very different than choosing solitude. Only recently have I come to understand that I have been a solitary person my entire life. I craved it as a child and still do, probably more solitude than most people could handle. I am my own best friend. If you have learned how to be your own worst enemy, you can learn how to be your own best friend.
Solitude restores me. I’m just beginning to realize what a gift that is. But I have had to fight for solitude my entire life. I have never taken it for granted, nor the company of my imagination. I’m not saying I’m always happy; I’ve just never held happiness as the measure of a meaningful life. My emotional state is and always has been like the weather – wait a bit and it will change. Deep at the core of my being there is a peace that has never faltered. I believe it was hard-wired in at birth. I think that’s why I fell in love with Lady Gaga the first time I heard Born This Way. We are born this way; we are born whole. That attitude has allowed me to fall in love with reality in all it’s resplendency.
This chaotic, insane, completely buggered world is fascinating to me. If offered a subscription renewal, I’d sign up again. Like anyone, I fear suffering or being a burden to my child. But I don’t fear death. I’ve had far too many spiritual experiences to ever think that this world is all there is, and so I’m infinitely curious. I’ve never doubted an afterlife. That’s the long game. It is this limited reality that is surreal, and therein lies the miracle.
How do YOU remind yourself to BE? Because there ain’t no other way – you’re on the right track, baby…
“My Mama told me when I was young – we are all born superstars…” – Lady Gaga
This is quite a different take on the theme of biophilic design. It certainly exemplifies home as sanctuary for these creative individuals. I confess that when I first began to investigate this design approach, I feared being overtaken by philodendrons hanging in macrame – which made me itch. I did not expect thoughtful elegance on this scale. According to the dictionary, biophilic design is meant to “foster a deeper connection between humans and nature.”
Just last night I came across the study of BIPHASTIC sleep. Apparently until the industrial revolution and shift work in factories, humans slept more like the rest of the mammals on earth – in shorter segmented sleep patterns. It is being studied again with the aging of the population. Retirees are finding themselves reverting to a natural rhythm with sleep that means falling asleep early after dark, sleeping for a few hours and then being awake for hours before returning to bed for another short sleep early morning. I’ve got this! Again, validating to discover that something that has felt natural to me is being recognized as being healthy. Perhaps nature had it right all along.
And here’s the connection in my little mind between this interior cabinet of curiosities and biphastic sleep – healthy design decisions will always incorporate healthy living habits. I would probably like being up during the night here, but I don’t want to face the concrete kitchen before morning coffee. I love many of the natural elements here, and I watch imagining the walls glow a golden amber for me. I’d love to hear your take on this.
“There are no rules when designing for oneself,” says Marjorie Skouras. Long one of my favorite designers, she certainly isn’t worried about resale value. Like me and my other imaginary friends, she does whatever she wants. I have been painting black chalkboard walls since the early eighties. They are always a delight, and they provide a dramatic and cozy – yes, cozy – background for art. If you are unfamiliar with her work, Marjorie Skouras began incorporating gemstones into furniture and fixtures in a fearless way – and now we all do it. Now where did I put that glue gun?
She’s considered a Louisiana Legend. Stunning is the word here. It seemed only fitting after we visited my real imaginary friend Penny Morrison the other day that we would go to Rebecca Vizard’s home next on our tour. We’re back on this side of the pond now, deep in the Louisiana delta a few hours drive north of New Orleans.
Like Penny, Rebecca is a textile designer with a unique speciality, and you can easily imagine her as your other best friend. Don’t be fooled by any of these delightful personalities I might showcase – they work hard. They have put in long hours for decades to get to where they seem so relaxed. My limited experience in design taught me that it looks glamorous to the untrained eye, but it is grueling work, physically and mentally.
This is a generous invitation into a private world, and in another video she gives a tour of her small town, showcasing the artists and small business owners. Both of her hands and arms are bandaged in that video, and she explains that her little rescue beagle, Lulu, was attacked by another dog that morning and she had to intervene. They both ended up with stitches, and her attitude is, “these things happen.”
I recently heard a spiritual coach asked who she thought would most easily make the transition from 3rd to 5th dimensional thought, and she quickly answered, “interior designers; they get it.” As within, so without isn’t so much a spiritual mantra as a daily practice. If a designer has stuck with their art long enough to be successful, they are a master problem solver. They tend to take challenges in stride. They are some of the biggest philanthropists and animal advocates in the country, but we rarely hear of that work. Accustomed to moving up and down ladders, they are adept with a nail gun and emotional support, they regularly take risks and use their own living spaces as laboratories. Life is for learning, and they are infinitely curious. I admire Rebecca immensely.
This is a long video, so pour yourself a cuppa and get comfy. It offers us a treasure trove of design tips, so I’ll point out a few. But please let me know what you find that I might have missed. “Oh, boy, this is gonna be fun!”
Here are a few ideas I’ve gleaned from this video: 1) You are never finished. As home is an extension of life, it’s a process. 2) Separate your work from your living space if possible. 3) Blur the transition from outdoors to indoors. Let the vines in. 4) You’ll hear this a lot from me: open concept is an abomination of the human spirit. Separate your spaces by function. 5) Forgive the mistakes and begin again. A creative life incorporates the happy accidents. 6) Ignore the trends. Do what works for you. 7) Keep painting it until you love it. 8) You will spend a good part of your life at the kitchen sink. Make sure it works well for your needs. 9) Everything is art; treat it as such. 10) Be grateful. Count your blessings every day…and so, use the good stuff. Let the pets on the furniture. 11) “A hat basket is highly recommended.” Make your own chandeliers. Narnia your bathroom door. Make your interior world magical. 12) And for the love of God – make it PERSONAL.
“NOTHING IS INTERESTING UNLESS IT IS PERSONAL.” – Billy Baldwin
We all seem to be struggling to live with our chronic anxiety. I posit that it has been systematically introduced into our culture by design, quite purposefully. Individuals who are able to think for themselves are hard sells. There is nothing natural about order; it invites anxiety. To accept that chaos is natural is revolutionary thinking. The way to overcome our addictions, including to the neurosis of our culture, is to learn to embrace the mystery. If you are going to practice getting through “one day at a time,” let it be one day of being uncomfortable with chaos. Be a revolutionary.
In the first grade at Nankin Mills elementary my teacher assigned us pen pals from a school in England. Freckled and red-headed, I remember staring at Penny’s photo for hours thinking she might be a fairy. We would not continue our epistolary exchange without a teachers prodding, but throughout all these years I have imagined Penny, my real imaginary friend…
And so when I became aware of British textile designer Penny Morrison, and realized we are about the same age, well…I conjured up all sorts of imagined trips back and forth, even touring India together. She is warm, generous and funny, and we are the best friends you could possibly imagine! I do so love our visits…
“To send a letter is a good way to go somewhere without moving anything but your heart.” – Phyllis Theroux
A Painterly Home 