Final Farewell to 2017

To assit in saying farewell to 2017, I’ve been working through the booklet by my friend at A Blissful Existence.

I’ve coloured in the mandala, and then arranged crystals over it as a way to release the past year. I find this process is a gentle, yet powerful way to release the emotions and events that shaped 2017 for me. By answering a series of questions I can focus on how I’m feeling about the past year, in a conscious process so that sneaky emotions don’t slip past without processing. mandala release 2017

It’s also a meditative process colouring in the manadal, with a scented candle burning, and relaxing music playing. It helps me to honour the year that was in all aspects not just the good, and then to say farewell. This is my little party to celebrate the past year and to welcome in the new year.

This might look like simple colouring in, but to me, this is much more. The colours chosen tell me something about the hidden thoughts in my mind, and how I’ve coloured the shapes  tells me that there are things in my life which have previously been hidden but are now coming to the surface. This allows me to look at parts of my life which perhaps I’ve not given enough attention, perfect timing as I make way for the new year.

This makes room for the new year, which is very exciting!

Happy New Year! How have you farewelled 2017?

Lilliana Rose heart clipart

www.lillianarose.com

coffee clip art steam

Lemons

Drawing and painting isn’t my art form, writing is. For some reason this is how my mind is wired, to see the world in stories and words. While, I’ve always struggled to learn how to draw and paint, (it doesn’t come easy for me) I’m drawn to trying to learn and develop this artistic skill.

The other month, I enrolled in a 10-week course. Each time I thought about going to the first class I’d preferred to go and stand in the corner of a room and cry. I didn’t, and I managed to make it to the first class, then the second, third and in fact I completed all ten classes with perfect attendance. But did I learn to draw and paint?

I did. I think. But the feeling of wanting to go stand in the corner and cry never managed to go away. I pushed through these emotions, I wanted to grow and face my fear, and my internal dialogue that was full of negativity. I was challenged every step and spent a lot of time not looking at other’s work so as not to compare myself. I needed to focus solely on trying my best, with the emphasis of not expecting to produce a masterpiece the first time, which wasn’t the purpose of me doing these classes, yet the internal expectation was innately there, even though I know I never write a story perfectly the first time. I’m comfortable with that. I know the process with writing. I don’t know this process with painting. And there are some differences with these artistic processes.

I write in solitude. Art class was with other people, and each stroke I made on the paper was in full sight. I wasn’t used to feeling so exposed or vulnerable when creating art. The last three weeks were about painting a still life of lemons on a canvas. I’m putting these stages out here publically not to get praise or feedback, but as a way to be vulnerable in my creation in all its imperfections, because the what I may perceive is wrong with it doesn’t really matter. I tried. It’s my first step on a much bigger journey. So here’s my first step of painting on canvas for the first time.

outline of lemonsFirst draw the still life on paper. Then transfer on canvas by scribbling charcoal on the back and transferring the image to the canvas – not to dissimilar to what I’d used to do in my early years of schooling. Then I covered the canvas in the first layer of acrylic paint. I wasn’t inspired to paint lemons. I’m used to choosing my creative topic. I questioned how hard was it to draw lemons? Hard. For me at least. I went home about to throw the canvas in the bin. All artists get to this point. Thanks to computers my novels don’t get ditched, but I have thrown out my stories I wrote when growing up.drawing-lemons.jpg

I went back for the next lesson. I added another layer of paint, shaping the lemons and more importantly showing myself a glimpse of the style of painting I was allowing to form. Bold. Modern. Colourful.

first coat of paint on lemons

The third lesson of painting lessons, I learnt about glazing. I touched up the colours to add depth. I finished. And if I had thrown my canvas in the bin after the first lesson, I would never have realised there is some skill there for me to develop.

lemons last coat of paint

And I’ve booked in for another 10 weeks with Splashout Studios.

I’d love people to share below the creative process when trying a new forms.

Thanks for reading my post,

Lilliana Rose

www.lillianarose.com

 

 

Tying Knots

When I was in primary school the fad was to make friendship bracelets. A quick lesson from a classmate, a selection of a few colours of embroidery thread I convinced mum I had to have (lucky my mum was a big supporter of craft activities), and I was set to make the bracelets. I taught myself new designs, the patterns formed in my head (there was no Internet to look up or YouTube videos to watch). Each night before bed I would make a new bracelet. I made a lot of them.

For the life of me I can’t remember how to make them. I do remember I enjoyed knotting the thin threads and making up my own designs. As an adult, I thought I’d try and connect back to this childhood joy. Right now, macramé is back in fashion, and I thought I’d make my own hanging pot.

I bought a DIY pack and followed the instructions. It was much more difficult than I thought it would be. I had to undo the knots and start again at least three times, and I made such an error I had to contact the lady I bought the kit from for some more rope.

What was going on? The mistakes I were making was unbelievably stupid and why wasn’t I picking it up like I had when I was ten?

Adult brain.

I was second guessing without realising. I wanted to get it perfect the first time. I just wanted to get it done, and I was fixated on the end result.

When I was about ten, I didn’t have any of these expectations. I simply gave it a go. It’s this approach I’d like to get back to, but it’s not easy. My adult brain too easily interferes. Also, my adult brain learns much slower than when I was ten, a child’s brain is like a sponge and simply soaks up new information, and my adult brain is overloaded.

Wanting to give macramé another go, I booked into a workshop. Sometimes it’s much easier to be shown, and have a teacher there to help you out when you are all knotted up. Plus, there are a few tips which can help out, and keep you from getting over tangled.

finished hanging potplant.JPG

During the workshop, I connected more with how I approached making the friendship bracelets when in primary school. Also, I found a meditative state when I knotted. Maybe it was because I had more confidence because I wasn’t second guessing myself. While knotting, I worked at my own pace and rhythm. I found a way to relax, to have fun, to play, and reconnect to my inner child, whose approach to learning is something I should apply more in my life. This is what I’ll be attempting to do when I make up the DIY macramé hanging plant kit I have sitting on my kitchen table. I might be tying knots, but I’ll be having fun.