Lifebook giveway WINNER announced!!

Congrats to Jane, whose favorite numbers are 3 and 8!!! you won by way of selection through a random number generator. please email me at: mlacefield13 {at} sbcglobal.net

....and i'll get you in touch with Tam at Willowing.

congrats again!! thanks to all of those who participated. I had a blast reading about all your special numbers and what they mean to you.

have a great weekend!!

xo
mindy

LifeBook GIVEAWAY!

I'm hosting a giveaway right here!

for LifeBook 2013

Registration for the highly anticipated 2nd installment of LifeBook has begun. 

I am so excited to be among the teachers sharing their expertise 

in journaling and helping you tap into what is so uniquely you. All year long

you will get instruction from a different teacher each month and at the end of the year, you will have a stunning book of so much YOU-ness and magical mixed media fun.

 I hope you'll come join us. 

To enter my giveaway, all you have to do is leave a comment here telling me

what number/numbers have special meaning to you and (if you feel comfortable)....WHY?

My special numbers are 8 and 13. 

all my close relatives have 8's in their birthday (and the lots and lots of my friends too!)

13 was my basketball number. i continue to see these two numbers pop up in my life.

please share with me yours. 

(i know this doesn't have anything to do with lifebook, but I thought I'd be fun)

I'm going to use a random number generator and announce the winner this FRIDAY!!

Eight

I find it increasingly more difficult to come here. The presence I want to embody here isn't about spelling out every detail of my life. Every motion. Every new adventure and move. The thing that is most aching to be seen, is something deeper than that. Its a little girl, who's shy. Who needs to escape from time to time. With "the facebook" as I like to call it, you can get the little glimpses into my travels and comings and goings. New art. So what is this space to me? Its something more sacred I believe. When I say it here, it better be pretty much the most ME than I can make it. This space is about the slowing down. The being still. Forget about making sense. I don't like writing that way. To give my readers everything handed to them. That's like going to watch a blockbuster summer movie. I'm more about the obscure documentary. It might even leave you hanging. I'm not sure this space (or me) is to that point yet, but that's my goal.

I'm the one who likes to talk about Stanley Kubrick. How I watched a documentary on the conspiracy theory that he in fact faked the moon landings. With his expertise in filming 2001: a space odyssey, I would hire him. Did I believe it for a day or so? Yes. Totally convinced. But I also think that Mr. Kubrick is such a genius that maybe, just maybe he wanted you to think he was hired to film and fake the moon landings. (btw, thanks Kym Stromberg for sending me the video) I would put a link to what I watched but its since been deleted. There is this though, that is coming out shortly at Sundance.
But not everyone is interested in hearing about sci-fy crap. Except when I met Lucie at art and soul portland. She and her husband and I, over a couple glasses of wine, talked Kubrick with much enthusiasm.

I am an introvert. You may not know that. I do like being around other folks. I'm a high-functioning introvert.  Sometimes a moment in solitude fills me right up. So if I seem, Not on....I'm not.

I have a thick, southern accent. When I was in Portlandia......um, I mean Portland, I visited with some doggie friends passing by and their parents said "you are a transplant". Yes, I've been mistaken for Aussie and Irish. I know you are jealous.

So I'll leave you here with a poem I wrote at the be present retreat:

Eight
this girl she.....
favors dolls and the frenzy of an arcade on a friday night.
playful quarters.
chaos swirling

she decides that playing hide and seek outside is an escape
crouching and running, she all of a sudden forgets the slamming door.
tires squealing.
screaming voices mean nothing anymore
because the air in her lungs is moving to quickly to pause and ponder

so what if i have to help momma count pennies
roll them up
counting to 50
each one smelling of dirty hands
each holding a silent heartache
the clinking sound
stacking together
until they mean that the tank is filled

the snow comes and holds there for 2 weeks
not melting before Christmas morning, I pray
i watch my little sister laugh and i somehow want to protect her
8
1982
cold

SQUAM.2

kelly, me, and jennifer at kelly's table at the Squam art fair

I wrote these words on the last full day of Squam...on the dock....after yoga.....

The moon and stars cradle us to sleep
crackling fire. scarves. trail. rocking chair
a lingering embrace
a loon's call unexpected in the middle of the day. 
two of them.
they call out to one another. 
happy.
a song only for each other.

Reaching out. 
Listening with hands on chin.
so deep. realizing that someone gets you.
in their eyes you see your own vulnerable self
you were waiting for a knowing you couldn't imagine possible
Here it is before me.
I share this time with you 
and it fills up my soul
until I feel it well up to my throat
I tell you I love you
and I've only just met you.

thank you Jennifer and Kelly. You inspire me to write. You inspire me to laugh and play. and to remember to be myself no matter what. you make it so easy to tell you I love you....

SQUAM

Squam.

it was a place for wishes to be set free

to arrive at this very moment

for convening on the dock

for pointing your toes to the sky

and hugging the ones you love

for nestling down by the cabin fireplace

 and for creating friendships you know will last a lifetime

the dock

my feet wet

making prints that only my own bare toes could imprint

a mark not consistent with their shape

slowly fading

its memory only known by the wood

holding it there in the grain

while others visit,

our marks meet

creating unity

rippling out into the life of the wood

sounds are the same

air and water trade moments

falling and ascending

creating new sources

a conduit of creativity and motion

we are here to witness the sparks of light

as they convene and embark on their own journey

mark making footprints and meeting

where the wood held us up

joining and connecting

those who....

may have never met

if not for the dock.

a rabbit noticed my condition

a rabbit noticed my condition print

available here

inspired by the poem written by

St. John of the Cross

and in online workshop news....here is a sneak peek into Frolic.

a mini bunny class. hoptastic!

coming later this fall!

stay tuned for more details...

in the meantime check out the new Classroom
where you can find both of the self paced classes 
Paint Your Story
and 
Neat Stuff

portal

This reality beckons me back but is it the truth?
with closed eyes I feel more in spirit than the waking occurrences
maybe that is all that there is
an occurrence in time that slings us through life at lightening speed
only stopping to bask when things quiet down.

why can't we ask this inner nagging voice to Be Still
to escape some time away from the "need to's" and lists
why is there always something i should be doing.
and when i do finally get there,
the mind automatically jumps ahead to the next "should"

the voice becomes a constant chatter
insisting on being heard

i believe the subconscious is more powerful
and would like to give the voice a good slap i'm sure.

once asleep my mind feels more free.
awake its is hostage to the voice
moments spent in creative work quiets the voice
sub takes the reins

inspiration is a portal to the subconscious 
the opening for the spirit to enter
when the conscious mind is in control, creativity is impossible
to create from a place of pure love.....
art becomes an outward expression of your soul.


I have been in a struggle with the voice. its telling me awful things. its making me lists that i don't want to do. its starting to convince me that i don't want to paint. i tell it to shut the hell up.... but still with the lists. i'm beginning to realize that the voice isn't real, with the help of this book. after reading a couple chapters, i realize what i must do....but its seems that now i've given this voice some attention and that night it really takes hold. i can't sleep. it even told me to write a different blog post. who the hell does this voice think she is?!

todays walk proved successful. i'm whipping this thing into shape. maybe. 
i'm mixing up the routine. i'm doing things i want to do. paint crazy free. not care. paint for me. 
dark. limbs. acceptance.

with the advice of this amazing friend, i'm able to forge ahead and realize that yucky times in your creative life will surface. and absolutely necessary. sunny girl, you are my rock. my mentor. my sister. my friend. there is no one on this planet like you.