Ria Sharon

pondering creativity, process, and making art

Yes, I’m blushing

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I’m just a little flattered and more than a little surprised that anyone cares about my process. And cared enough to ask. But you asked so… perhaps there’s a little part of you too that wants to see an example of how one goes about going from an empty canvas to something, anything. Or, maybe as a creative being yourself, you’re feeling stuck in one way of doing things and need a little nudge from the world outside your own head. If so, feel free to spend the next few minutes in mine!

As a matter of personal growth (of course!), I took on the task of approaching the particular project I’m sharing as a capacity-building exercise because I’m notoriously intolerant of “process” …you know, the messy thing that takes place between the moment you get an assignment/job/project/inspiration and the instant when you can check off the box next to it that says it’s complete?

The images you see here is documentation of what transpired at the dining room table over a period of days, during a full weekend of family activities — including improvising makeshift beds for out of town guests, cooking and eating shared meals, napping with puppies, singing out loud, and hosting a sleepover for 11-year old girls.
I discovered that a cure for the need to control the process is… CHAOS!
A Little Background
I was granted the high honor of creating art for a soon-to-be-released online offering created by three women I admire very much, experts in their respective fields who were stepping forth to bring together a body of work called Your Emotional Wisdom. I was more than a little daunted, because the content is so good, so foundational, so transformational. Of course, my little mental gremlin started up immediately and I began to doubt my ability/capacity to create a body of art that would do justice to this work.
You can see my starting point here, a rather complex illustration that visually depicts the process by which our emotions influence our interactions and relationships. My aunt who happened to be visiting and is a 20 plus-year veteran Counseling Psychologist calls it my “Cognitive Behavioral Therapy Mandala!”
My second stab at a solution, with the hero graphic of the anatomical heart, felt waaaay too serious and heavy-handed, like my own state of mind at the time which was trying too hard to be taken seriously! 🙂
With Jen’s coaching, I shifted gears and made a conscious decision to “just play.” I told myself that nothing I did was with the intention of being anything other than quick studies… doodles that could potentially inform the vocabulary for something later in the week but in and of themselves were nothing. Make bad art!, Jen said.
You can imagine how challenging this was for me to spend time doing something without a clear purpose in mind, a “waste of time,” when you know, who has time to waste? I had a deadline and 30 paintings to finish!!!!
I read through the lessons for Your Emotional Wisdom. One of the concepts my friends, the instructors address, is that wisdom is held in our bodies and in our emotions but all too often, we are stuck in our heads.
Hmmm… sounds familiar. What answers and solutions could come if I were to move out into my actual, physical body?
Okay, I’m game, in part because I was truly stuck the other way. I don’t know about you but my gremlin lives in my head so at the very least, I might escape the inner critic long enough to get something, anything down on paper.
I took my paints and papers out into the dining room where my aunt and daughter were crafting together and absentmindedly dabbed at colors while listening to their chatter and my daughter’s Pandora station set to Pitch Perfect. Once in awhile, I’d browse through their beadwork magazines and let myself be inspired by their stack of plastic containers full of candy-colored beads.
I took the dog for a walk, pulled weeds from my fledgling flower bed, and snapped a couple of pics on my phone of the clematis climbing the back wall and a few of the daylilies that had finally burst open. Flowers began to weave their way into my sketches.
Roses… Peonies… Impatiens…
I did a “body scan,” as the instructors of Your Emotional Wisdom suggest… softening. opening. unfolding. radiating.
Like flowers!
More flowers… a morning glory (my grandmother’s favorite)… with a secret glowing star in each bloom. This is what drew Georgia in, I imagine, the intimations of vast universes held within.
I kept on, allowing my feeling body to lead the way down a path that seemed so much less effort-filled, and noticed a style beginning to emerge. What do you know! My body did have an answer after all! Here’s where I ended up!

… now to do 30 more!!!

Do you have a creative process that’s working for you right now? Do you work with your body and feelings too?

That’s right. I am asking… and curious and interested in your process… and wildly grateful for YOU!
© Ria Sharon

Gremlins

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Or, more truly, I struggle with whether what I say is worth saying…
Is it useful? Is it helpful? Why bother?
Jen says the act of self-expression alone is worth it.
I try to believe her.
I let the paint flow as an act of defiance against the inner gremlin who tells me, 
“Who gives a crap?!”
The piece above is a page from my journal. No perfection necessary here.
It began with an activity we do in The Story of You called Where I’m From.
I filled in the blanks and used what came as inspiration, in stolen minutes over a few days, in between shuttling kids to and fro, from working and packing lunches, and folding laundry….
Those few minutes were magic.
I found Peace there. And Presence. And Delight. The kind of things that made me a little more generous with my kids, a little more loving with my partner, a little calmer, a little more fun to be around! 🙂
Maybe this is the point? …that normally silenced voice finally getting some airtime and feeling validated and heard. Maybe it’s true… self-expression feeds our souls.
So there, gremlin!
Do you know this gremlin? Has she silenced some part of you that wants to be expressed? Join me in telling her to eff off, in the kindest, gentlest, firmest way of course… by putting pen to paper, brush to paint, by allowing the wild dance to take hold in your body, or the song to sprout from your lips.
Are you in?
You can start where I did, if you want… download and print the PDF here, adapted from a poem by George Ella Lyan. I give you permission to steal minutes from your responsible grown-up life to scribble and color or dance silly dances or sing out loud or all of the above. YOU. Are. Worth. it.
And I would love, love, love… (more than a chocolate sundae!) to hear what insight the voice inside has to tell you. I’m cheering for you!
© Ria Sharon

The Things You Say…

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The only sounds you could hear in the studio was the soft creaking of the press and someone grinding away at an old image on their litho stone. My instructor (also my advisor) stopped his rounds and leaned over my lithograph, fresh off the press. “Your technical proficiency is impressive,” he said.
He himself was a talented printmaker. But as an instructor, he was quite reserved so all of us in the art program would collect each word like precious jewels. I felt myself warmed by his observation. Still he stood over my print. And then looking up at me with a curious expression, he added, “But you don’t have anything to say.”
I nodded. It didn’t even occur to me to be hurt or insulted. It was just an observation. And he would know, wouldn’t he?
It didn’t occur to me to dispute his statement. I took it as I assumed he intended — a matter of fact. Over the course of 20 years, I would live out his pronouncement. His voice becoming the one in my head, saying, “I’m a good craftsman. I just don’t have anything to say.”
It’s why I pursued a a professional career in graphic design instead of enrolling in the graduate program at the Art Institute. At least my technical abilities would be put to good use, in service to other people’s ideas or causes or movements… people with something to say.
Have you had an experience like this? A defining moment in which you realized that some belief you had about who you are was actually borrowed from someone else? Perhaps then you’ve also experienced the thrill that comes from shedding it, like a heavy coat that you suddenly discovered you don’t have to wear anymore.
© Ria Sharon

You Can Rest

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It’s been a couple of weeks since moving from my little apartment to what my kids and I fondly call “the flat,” I’m exhausted. I feel like I could sleep for a hundred years.

But who will let the dog out or unpack the boxes still waiting downstairs or make sure M’s basketball uniform was clean for tomorrow and… who will write the post and pay the bills and settle this month’s accounting….

But try as I might, on this overcast Sunday, I can’t will my body to move. one. inch. Have you ever felt that? That strange temporary paralysis when your mind is awake but your body refuses to acknowledge it? It’s as if I’m frozen by a sleeping curse.

Perhaps it is my stubborn insistence to orchestrate this move like I was still 20-something and move everything except the big pieces myself. Or perhaps it’s the compounded 41 years of thinking that way… you know, I can do this — this life — all by myself! This morning, my body is not having it for one more second and I am trapped in my bed underneath an invisible hundred pound boulder.

My mind wandered to this painting, propped up in the windowsill of my studio, just just steps away from the bed, through the glass-paned doors. And my heart aches a little from its divine reassurance. It’s a sort of blasphemy to think that the world revolves around my ability to get things done. It’s an insidious lie that we’re alone in it.

You can rest.
It’s okay, every now and again, to put it all down.

© Ria Sharon

My hopeful world

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I’ve been musing on BELONGING…
I know firsthand what it means not to belong, to skirt around the edges of love and acceptance. I’m certain that my own quest for a “home” is what led me down the path, to join hands with Jen Lemen in Hopeful World.

That was in 2010 and there isn’t a day that I’m not grateful for what we’ve built together: a virtual place in which everyone can experience a radical kind of acceptance and belonging, too. Since 2011, we have been hosting online classes in personal development that are helping dear hopeful souls come home to themselves. Perhaps this is you?

In my hopeful world, your heart is nurtured by the knowing that in those moments when you feel most alive — you also feel that truest self of yours is wanted and needed in the world, no matter how humble or unconventional.

In my hopeful world, you are loved… in both your moments of elation and despair.

So if you feel called for this kind of self-acceptance and belonging, come join us for an upcoming session of The Story of You, or Your Emotional Wisdom. We also publish an self-paced class based on Trudeau’s The Mother’s Guide to Self-Renewal so you can join the thousands of mothers around the world who have grown from Renée’s self-renewal circles. And, if you or a loved one you is challenged with postpartum depression/anxiety, we publish Katherine Stone’s Daily Hope.

© Ria Sharon

Sick-O

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Poor guy has been sick. As much as I hate seeing him in such a sad state, he’s so adorable and especially snuggly when he’s not feeling well. I can barely stand it. I know he won’t always fit so snugly in this bean bag, nor will his feet be so small. I want to remember him like this.

And oh, isn’t gouache so much fun?
© Ria Sharon

Illustration Friday: Roots

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And now, from a completely different brain… for this week’s subject, I went back to my roots, literally. Digging deep into the depths of my files, I unearthed a defining piece from my past. The topic suggested an exploration of one’s source and at its conception, this piece was about the gestation of ideas. As it progressed, it revealed something much darker, as did a lot of my work at the time. It was probably just cooler to be an angst-ridden artist in 1992.

© Ria Sharon

Illustration Friday: Dream

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I think I labor over the caption more than the image. In the case of “dream,” the image came quite easily but I can’t really explain why. Twisted free association, I guess. Dreams are like that, sometimes meaningful and sometimes fluffy; I think there is a concept here, of fulfilling seemingly impossible dreams. Or maybe, just flying pigs.

© Ria Sharon

Illustration Friday: Aging

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This is my first post. It’s a little late… waiting for paint to dry! I was inspired by my 3-year old’s “pretend crabs” chasing her away from her “pretend beach party” today. I am no hermit crab expert, mind you but I understand that as they age, they instinctively know when it is time to trade in their current accommodations for the bigger, better deal. I am currently intrigued by the idea that as people age, they also turn in their “encasements” — sets of ideas, patterns of behavior, stale relationships, etc. and are fully transformed into… brand new CRABS!

This was originally posted here, for Illustration Friday but I’ve long since lost the password to this blog soooo….

© Ria Sharon