Tag Archives: art

Jennifer in Maria inspired in a wind storm

Upcoming Event

Women Who Run With the Wolves

Book Study + Art Journaling Class

Join us for a monthly women’s book study thru conversation + art. We will be exploring the myths and stories presented in Dr. Clarissa Pinkola Estés timeless work, Women Who Run With the Wolves. Her words + wisdom will be the jumping off inspiration as we process these themes through our own lens and creative expression.

We will incorporate Art Journalling as the medium to unpack and process these themes in our own lives. Each month, on the second Saturday of the month, around the full moon we will gather to begin our own personal exploration of the myths and stories of the wild woman archetype. Our individual work will continue throughout the month as we intend and inspire our lives based off these ideas.

The class can be attended in studio or by livestream. Live-streaming participants will get a supply list to prepare art materials before class each month.

We recommend purchasing the book, Women Who Run With the Wolves, for the reading and continued study throughout the course. Any classes missed throughout the course will be recorded for participation on your timing, however live is always the most potent. No formal art experience necessary.

The course explores themes such as:
Resurrection + The Beginning
Belonging + Exile
The Return
The Joy of Flesh
The Creative Life
Boundaries
Rage + Forgiveness
Initiation + Ceremony of the Wild Woman

We will circle monthly
Second Saturdays from 1-4pm
starting April 10

Cost includes workshop and core art supplies to create an art journal. You will learn the medium of art journalling which is a particular style of creativity. The last class we will bind the journal for inspirational touchstone and keepsake of your Wild Woman journey. Collecting small items, recycled notions, photos etc will be encouraged to use for personalizing your art. $45 in studio + $35 to livestream

Preregistration required at http://www.wildspirityogatx.com/schedule

The Poetry of Not Knowing What Day it is

Looking back it all takes shape

You can string together its story.

Life is weird, you can’t see clear until its all so weary.

Its not done yet, its quite a bit early

Don’t know what day it is, 

And the path still feels pretty burly.

We got here fast it seems, 

Perhaps an experiment delivered from the extremes.

We are better off 

turning them off, those talking heads on TV.

Truth got dreary, filled with fear

The mutants took over the wheel.

We gave them our power, devoted to adhere. 

They took our minds, and tried to tell us how to be F.I.N.E., fine.

It didn’t work, the box was infected, 

Listen close they already detected.

They meant to take us down to our knees.

To pit us against each other so we couldn’t see.

Reaching out, we found out 

new ways life could thaw us from freeze. 

Here we are in this new existance, 

practicing social distance.

Air hugs and quick chats, no pressure to step into story. 

Phone calls and long letters,

The internet just might save the world,

Who knew social media would make us feel better?

Creativity sparks and the desire from nature to interact with our hearts

To reach past those things we never had time for,

Music and the arts.

Some places hit harder than others

New places promise an incoming wave

We can’t predict how long we might be sick

Our society hemorrhages from within, 

Our only hope is we don’t try to save it.

Let our systems purge their deep dark state they lurk in.

Did this ever feel clear, living life in such fear? 

Will we be able to sustain this change?

Bumping up against our aggressions, the pain we’ve walked thru and left thrashing

Thought we knew all there was to know.

Depressed and upset we kill off what’s left and we flirt with the idea of crashing.

The slow descent in that dark well,

We take a deep breath and let our heads go underwater.

Face those big ones, afraid of no one

We walk out much clearer than ever.

We sit in the bed, to let the rhymes in our head,

Tip toe out thru art and story.

We continue on, dropping bombs

On all those structures and chains.

We find a new freedom, 

Life dreamed anew 

And the death of our life lived in vain.

Our connections much brighter,

Honest and real

We can’t imagine the world we left behind,

We remembered what’s important 

The gang is all here

And our hearts have ascended much lighter. 

by Jennifer Carmack