It's a funny truth about human nature, that we are never satisfied.

It's easier to see what's wrong with our art than it is to see what's right.  

It's easier to listen to a little voice inside that says "Your work isn't good enough" than it is to believe other people when they say, "That's wonderful."

It's easy to feel like giving up.

What's the best thing to do when we feel that way?  

Keep on painting.  

Get up in the morning, dip your brush, and paint.  

Your work may not appeal to the majority, but there is someone out there who will be brought to tears by your work.... or maybe just a quiet smile.

Keep on painting.

You will never arrive.  The farther you go on this journey, the broader your horizon will be, and the farther away it will grow.

But you will grow along with it.  And tomorrow, or next week, or next year, you will dip your brush in that paint, and your strokes, long and short, will make something wonderful.  

And no one will have to tell you that it's wonderful.  You will know it.

 by Samantha Blythe

“If your daily life seems poor, do not blame it; blame yourself that you are not poet enough to call forth its riches; for the creator, there is no poverty and no poor, indifferent place.”

Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet

Okay. I have my coffee, so I can start writing. Impostor Syndrome is present but not overpowering. My art studio (a word that exacerbates the aforementioned Syndrome, but which I use as a form of non-violent resistance against it) is passably neat and organized, ready for some pseudo-impromptu photos.

And so, I enter into this project with other women who are also "creative", and I will herein label myself a creative enabler – meaning that during most of my artmaking life, my real goal has been more to help and encourage others to make something themselves, or create a personal process or practice for themselves. Having people maybe buy from me as an artist is secondary (though gratifying and I do appreciate it when that happens).

I think the fallen world would be a better place if more people made art (in the most non-elitist sense) grounded in their own lives. This has the added benefit of leaving a convenient paper trail legacy, so your progeny can know you better after your death.

I don’t have a “method” and I’m not even sure if I have a distinctive artistic “style”, but I definitely have a variety of creative stuff I have made over the past few decades - sandwiched in between birthing and nursing babies, doing housework, and experiencing the common emotional and/or hormonal fluctuations of the human condition.

When I have a bad attitude (we won’t specify how often that occurs) my daily life does seem poor. And Rilke is right; it is my own fault. I let myself wallow in my boredom, ingratitude or some other unflattering character weakness. But when I go back through all my creative work (one of my favorite pastimes), I see that what I made even when I was at my most grumpy and miserable actually does call forth the riches of my life. I can look at it all and see that God is always working (generally, feeding me and cleaning up my messes, like I do for my own kids).

After more than twenty years of doing this stuff, I finally started calling it Everyday Memoir, which pretty much encompasses everything without over-compartmentalizing. If you'd love make your own zines or hand-bind your own funky self-psychotherapy art journals or (insert your personal manifestation of Everyday Memoir here)....  I'm here to  help you get started.

People often say to me in regard to my art, "I don't know how you do it."  To which I usually reply, "Oh, I do my art early, before the kids get up."  

But they know, and I know, that it's more complicated than that.  Having a regular creative practice takes time, planning, and strategy, and sometimes that can be messy.

Finding a place in my life for art means managing all of my priorities, both those which are higher (my kids) and those which are lower (my refrigerator.)  Sometimes I don't do it all that well.  Sometimes my mind is on art long after the paint brushes are put away, and the kids are having to repeat themselves to me and  the refrigerator is awaiting the attention it deserves.

Sometimes I have to push past feelings of dissatisfaction with my work... the universal imposter syndrome, the voice inside that says, "You are not a real artist."

We all have our own challenges, of course.... Samantha and Theresa, who are sharing this blog with me, will be telling you about theirs.  There's scheduling... Samantha's not a morning person, so she has to deal with distractions and interruptions, unlike me.  And Theresa has more of a natural resistance to routine than I do... she's a free spirit, and finds it difficult to deal with details.

Whoever you are, and wherever you are in establishing a creative practice, we are here to share our own creative journeys with you.

Whether its a good book about art or habit, a useful app, a favorite beverage, or a long walk in the woods, we'll be telling you about what makes our creative practices better.  We'll be sharing our practical and psychological strategies, our triumphs, and our failures.  I hope that you will do the same. 

 So....What's your biggest challenge with your creative practice?