the nine interview revisited (with vivienne mcmaster)

The Nine is an interview series with creative folks that began on my blog, Be Present, Be Here, in the Spring of 2009; the interviewees are asked to respond to nine questions in photographs (or video). All the interviews can be found here.

Vivienne McMaster first answered The Nine questions about three years ago (you can see her first interview here). Recently when chatting with her, I had the idea that it would be so much fun to have her answer The Nine questions now. Lucky for us, she graciously agreed to play along again.

Enjoy this peek into Vivienne's world... 

 *****

Question 1: Who are you?

Question 2: In this moment, where are you?

Question 3: What are the textures of your corner of the world?

Question 4: If you had an hour alone to just play, what would you do?

Question 5: How do you seek joy?

Question 6: What nourishes you?

Question 7: When you need to simply take a breath and ground yourself, what do you do?

Question 8: How do you nurture your creative dreams?

Question 9: Does your heart have a secret wish you want to share?

*****

Vivienne McMaster is a photographer, visual storyteller and workshop leader with a passionate, supportive, rule free approach to getting creative with taking photos. 

She has a big love for helping people find the photographer within themselves. She believes, and knows from experience, that self-portraits can be incredibly healing (and also so much fun). She has a brand new website where she often shares stories that entwine images and words together.

*****

Note from Liz: Viv has been my "go to" photography teacher for a while now, and I am so excited to join in on this next session of Swan Dive that begins next Monday. I have been wanting to grow my understanding of post-processing and can't wait to circle with others and learn from Viv again. Learn more about Swan Dive and consider coming along... 

pen & paper reflections

a peek into pen & paper

When I get home from hosting a Be Present Retreat and look through my photos, I am always struck by how few I take. Every. Single. Time. I know this is partly because being behind the camera is not really part of my role during these retreats, but somehow, it seems to be a piece in the list of reasons why I have a hard time writing about the retreats when I get back from them. Maybe you haven't noticed, but I seldom write about them when I return. The re-entry time is intense, real life just starts rolling again, planning for the next retreat begins, and somehow I never find my way back to this space to say much.

I would like to change that and have been thinking about a few ways to give myself some space before and after each retreat to write about my intentions and experience and then share some of those thoughts here. Sometimes, I become so focused on creating a sacred experience for others that I forget about paying attention to the ways I can make it even more sacred for me. 

Throughout each retreat (and there have been eight so far!), I am aware of how I know this is the work I am called to do. I feel at home. And I am deeply aware of what a gift this is at this time in my life. As I write these words, I am deeply aware of the support I am so lucky to have as I continue to grow my business and look to all that will unfold in the next few years. (thank you)

As for Pen & Paper...well...this is the part where I get hung up on what words to use. It was a beautiful, rich, open-hearted experience. We laughed and danced and wrote and "poemed" and played with paint and danced some more. Stories and meals nurtured each of us. Dreams were spoken aloud and then written down inside our journals. Naps were taken. Blue sky appeared just when we asked it to. And laughter arrived again.

I love hosting retreats at Frog Creek Lodge here in my corner of the world. Within minutes of arriving, almost every participant mentions that "this space just has such good energy." There is just something about this cabin in the woods. This time we were able to watch eagle parents swoop about looking for food to take back to the nest in the woods near us. And the rain rain rain came down down down, which gave us the perfect writing weather. And then the clouds left while we painted and then played down by Puget Sound.

After everyone left on Sunday, Kelly and I took just a few minutes to sit on the frontporch swing and take in the trees and the moss and the air and the birds singing amidst the raindrops. As we sat there, I was thinking about how each retreat brings a unique cast of characters. Deep friendships are born and nurtured and I am struck again and again by the truth and beauty that entwine to create the one-of-a-kind experience for each of us. After each retreat I say, "Oh I think this one was my favorite." And that is exactly how I feel again. 

I am so blessed.

*****

Today, I'm excited to share that registration for the Fall Unearth Retreat has begun! Kelly Barton and I are heading back to Frog Creek Lodge and bringing Mindy Lacefield with us! Kelly and Mindy will be co-teaching three days of painting and mixed media, and I will be sharing some of my favorite creative self-care practices (including writing and photography) throughout our time together. The three of us are integrating all of it into one big juicy creative adventure. There are just 12 spots left, so please head over to the Be Present Retreats site to learn more.

dirt and poem notes

Somewhere rests a story that involves someone saying, "Didn't you eat dirt as a child? All children eat dirt." 

Before I could answer, my dad said in a very clear, even tone, "Elizabeth, did not eat dirt." 

We were laughing around a dinner table. Me, four and a half months pregnant and wondering about the personality that was becoming inside me, wondering if he or she would be a bit more fearless than her mother.

And here we are, more than two years later, watching this personality develop each day before us.

Fearless. Joyful. (wee bit) Stubborn. Hilarious. Open. Always on the move.

People so often want to "figure out" who she looks like. I just love that she is finding her way to be herself.

*****

Somewhere in the words above rests a poem. I'm not sure where to begin yet. I'm not sure about the title or what the first line will be. But I know that one day soon, I want to revisit these words and these images and these memories and play with a poem.

Until then, I am calling this a poem note because, well, that is what it is. The notes for a poem. Maybe even a few words that will form their way into a poem. I have been writing "poem notes" for a few years now as a way to take those notes without feeling the pressure of writing the perfect poem. Sometimes they end up actually seeming like they might be a finished (or almost finished) poem. Other times they are more notes, like the words above, with images I don't want to forget.

I love the way the poet inside me sees the world. And I am so grateful to poetry for pushing me to let this poet within me breathe.

If you are interested in giving that poet within you space to play and breathe and observe the world around you, consider coming along for Poem It Out. Class starts next Monday, and we are going to have so much fun!

march 22

as we stood below blue in the crisp air, she handed them to me one at a time. we talked about how i used to do the same thing with my grandmother. when we went inside, i put them in the tiniest vase i could find that rests on the windowsill above the sink.

later, as i looked at them while making a cup of tea, i kept thinking about how living fills the cracks missing creates.

how to write (a guest post from jenna mcguiggan)

How to Write: Climb the mountain, explore the plateau

When the rejection letters arrive in the mail;

When I don't know how to fix a clunky paragraph;

When my creative taste outstrips my creative ability;

When I've neglected my muse and can't hear a word she's whispering;

When writing feels more like walking alone under a hot desert sun without water instead of riding a flowing current down a beautiful river;

When I sit down to write, each time, every time, even now, and

I wonder: What if this is as good as I'll ever be? What if I never improve? Can I really learn to be a better writer?

I know that the answer is yes because I'm a dramatically better writer than I was ten, five, even two years ago.

About three years ago I underwent a rapid growth spurt as a writer. I made some important discoveries and connections, and -- dare I say it -- had some epiphanies about writing in general and about my writing in particular. I found a new writing voice and uncovered new material. I learned to read like a writer. I learned techniques that I'd never known before, and I learned how to name and talk about techniques that I'd previously only understood intuitively. (Having the language to name and explain something gives you a new level of mastery over it, especially when combined with an intuitive way of knowing.)

All of this happened when I was in grad school, which I'd entered to help me move past the writing plateau I'd been stuck on for a few years. I finished that leg of the journey eight months ago, and I've been standing on a new plateau ever since. The climb was exciting, exhilarating, and exhausting. In some ways, I'm glad for the rest, the time to look down the mountain and see how far I've come, to catch my breath and enjoy the view. Or rather, I'm trying to be glad for these things. Mostly I just keep running in circles, darting to and fro, fretting about when I get to star climbing again, because, dude: There is so much more mountain above me!

The writing plateaus make me twitchy. I get nervous. Insecurity and fear set in, accompanied by a frothy dollop of doubt. What if this is as good as I'll ever be? What if I never improve? Can I really learn to be a better writer?

We like progress. We like an upward trajectory. Climb the incline, rest at the plateau, and then keep climbing!

But what if there are other ways to grow?

What if I calmed down, looked around this plateau and discovered its true terrain? What if I embraced what I now know and simply practiced it again and again? Not all growth happens along a linear path. (Not much growth happens that way, methinks.)

What if I stopped running in circles and sat down in the middle of this flat place, took a deep breath, and watched the sky for awhile?

What if I wandered around with eyes ready to see tiny wildflowers peeking out from the glinting rockface?

What if I discovered a cave and decided to go spelunking, to really explore its depths, no matter how dark or strange it was?

What if I invited other writers (and wish-to-be writers) to join me on the journey? To climb the path that I once walked, to sit on the plateau with me, to smell the flowers, explore the depths, and to go on ahead?

** ** **

You -- and your writing -- are invited.

Come climb your own mountain, explore your own plateau, and discover your own wildflowers and caves. Join me for Alchemy: The Art & Craft of Writing, an online course designed to help you transform your writing and take it deeper and  w i d e r  than ever before. The next session runs April 2 - May 11.

The word "alchemy" means "a power or process of transforming something common into something special." Alchemy: The Art & Craft of Writing helps you transform something common (words) into something special (your essays, stories, poems, blog posts, etc.). Learn practical writing techniques to give your stories deeper meaning. Combine the nitty-gritty details with flights of fancy and watch your words sparkle and soar. Discover tips and practices to overcome your writing challenges. Be motivated, inspired, supported, and encouraged in a community of writers.

I created this course by collecting together the writing techniques, tips, practices, and inspiration that contributed to my big growth spurt. In it I share what I learned in grad school and from my nine years as a professional writer. I'm honored to have Liz as one of the featured guests in the course. Other guest spots include interviews with inspiring authors such as Brené Brown, Marianne Elliott (Zen Peacekeeper), and poet Susan Wooldridge. Learn more and register here. There's plenty of room on this mountain for all of us.

*****

Jenna McGuiggan is a writer, editor, and coach who works with creative souls and organizations with heart.

Visit her in The Word Cellar, which she envisions as a cozy, stone-walled chamber filled with twinkle lights, shelves of stories, nooks of books, and plush armchairs perfect for sharing your tale.

a guest post from kristin noelle

 

Kristin Noelle is a writer and an artist whose work illuminates trust as the antidote to all that ails us.

Find her at Trust Tending, where she blogs, draws, and listens deeply for the sake of trust-ward transformation. She lives in Los Angeles with her husband, young kids, and 6 chickens.

 *****

A note from Liz: This re-entry after retreats can be such a tender time as exhaustion walks hand and hand with love. After everyone leaves, my own loneliness sets in as I experience what I tell retreat participants they might experience: You come home forever changed but no one at home has had the same experience you have had...so they might not get it (even if they really want to). At each retreat this year, Kelly and I are giving retreat participants "self-care kits" to take home to help them with this re-entry phase. During the retreat, one of the Pen & Paper participants asked me about how I practice self-care during my own re-entry. 

I didn't really have an answer.

Then I saw this piece of art Kristin created that is shared above. My heart felt like it literally expanded when I realized she had sent over a gift for me (for all of us really) in the form of a guest post. Looking at this, it is as though we sat in a cafe together and she peeked right inside me and then created this...but we've never actually met or even talked on the phone.

As I sit here in a mostly quiet house wearing my superpower mom cape over my owl pajamas while wishing for a nap, I am reflecting on all the truths and stories and creative play shared over the weekend and marveling at how these women found there way to a little cabin in the woods just because I said, "Wanna come?" And then I am looking at this gentle artwork Kristin has created, and I am simply struck at the exquisite beauty the internet can facilitate as it gives us a forum for the simple act of reaching out and saying, "Me too. Me too." 

My self-care during this re-entry time is going to be creating an altar with this artwork as the backdrop. It will be an altar to wholeness and home.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

note from here (in moving pictures)

seeking green

I am currently taking Andrea Scher's Elevate the Ordinary Superhero Photo class.

It is so good.

My number one reason for taking this class was that I knew I needed a little Andrea energy in my inbox a few days a week. Her writing deeply moves me and I appreciate the way she pairs fun and joy with truth and realness. Yes. So as February gave way to March and the rain rain rain would keep drip drip dripping around here, I knew this class would inspire me, and I anticipated that Andrea's words would speak right to where I am on my path. (I was right. So so good.)

When I signed up though, I knew that I wouldn't have much time for solo photography adventures, so my plan was (and continues to be) to tuck Andrea's tips and wisdom into my creative toolbox to pull out when I have more time. Still, I hoped and planned to get a few photo walks on my schedule and take Ellie with me on a few walks near our home and at Point Defiance Park. 

However, the last few weeks unfolded differently than expected as our babysitter's schedule changed a bit due to sports and I found myself needing more rest than an adventure or two and on days when we could have gotten outside, the rain rain rain came down. Then, just when the weather turned warm and sunny and I was so hopeful that we would get out to the park or take a walk in the woods, Ellie's needs and "I am almost two" ways became such that we needed to stay home and dance out (or nap out) the grumps.

Last week as I sat on the floor with Ellie "playing" (one of her new favorite words), I looked at the blue sky through the window, and honestly, I began to pout in my head just a bit because I knew the day would not involve me heading out into that sun alone with my camera.

At some point in the midst of "What does the cow say?" and "Be gentle with Millie. Thank you," I remembered what I have so often told others to do when they say they don't have time for a photography date and thought about what Andrea would probably say to me: Just take 10 minutes and go on a photography adventure in your backyard.

Ellie and I bundled up and grabbed some snacks just like we were heading out to the park, and I gave myself the assignment of finding as many shades of green that I could see because, honestly, I knew this assignment would be easy on an almost Spring day here in the Pacific Northwest. Capturing the green might not be the easy part, but finding it would be. Sometimes the easy assignment is the way to go when you just need light.ness and fun more than anything else.

I almost always have my camera with me when we go outside, and we go outside almost every day...but I needed this shift to see it as an assignment of sorts to refill the well. Of course it is all in how you look at it, but the woman in toddlerland that I am most days needed this reframing.

Ellie sat contently in a chair snacking while I snapped away. And for those few minutes, I really was on a bit of a solo photography adventure. Then she joined me for some exploration of the different textures on the trunk of our maple tree.

And somewhere out in the backyard as I snapped these photos, I began to think about how Ellie Jane and I have quite a bit in common in the stages we are navigating in our worlds. She is in that toddler stage where her will and desire are greater than her abilities and understanding of the world. And in many ways, my desire to create and write and share is so much bigger than the time I have to actually do these things.

This afternoon, as I take a few hours to write and work on the to do list, I am giving myself this blessing that I plan to write on my bathroom mirror so I will see it each day: May I be as patient with myself as I am with her...