Hold space and invite grace is the opening passage of Chip Conley's A Year of Wisdom. He speaks of creating spaces of time and environment in your life for magic to happen. For me, my best time to achieve glimmers of grace is in the early morning. This is why silence...
musings from the studio and beyond ~
dawn chandler’s reflections on art and life. . . .
pausing
go ahead, walk through it
Thirty minutes ago I emerged from the mall where my PO box is. I had just dumped my massive annual springtime greeting card mailing at the post office and was feeling a bit jubilant. Thirty minutes before that, an all-day soaking spring rain (a rarity out here)...
6 x 3 x 60 = peace
I stepped outside, crouched on the pavement and sat down on my dusty front door stoop. In my nine years living here, I don’t think I’d ever sat on the stoop. Maybe because the view from that angle is mostly pavement, concrete, stuccoed wall and taillights. This...
I don’t know what to say about the fires…
but what any sentient person might say: The fires are horrifying. A consuming history- and life-erasing hurricane inferno of destruction and heartbreak. When I look at the map the fires are almost too big to grasp: The big fire — Hermits Peak — started in early spring...
being scared. but doing it anyway.
A few days ago I released to the world my latest creative project. I put it out there not knowing if anyone would be interested. That’s the scariest thing about being an artist: Putting your very soul into something you’ve made and not knowing whether it will be...
solace in the spaces where spirit is found
I had in mind sharing something different today. But the response from so many of you to my post “we can only hold so much” was so great, so compassionate, so heartfelt, that I wanted to acknowledge your tremendous big-heartedness. Thank you. So many of us are now at...
we can only hold so much
I'd been on the verge of tears all day. I didn't know why, for the day before I'd felt fine. But then, later, at the grocery store checkout, my bag of bulk lentils snagged on my shopping cart and exploded in a shower on the floor. I lost it. Not there — no; I...