Week Night Studio

Posted on by Alexandra Schaefers

This has been my studio during my day job work nights latelyđź’ś I am enamored with simplicity so even though my closet is still crammed full of paintings and my project table is slightly organized chaos I love spending the evening on the couch with just colored pencils, a pen and a journal.

I don’t get to share everything from my workbooks because I journal in them a lot and that’s too personal to post but when I can share pages I will because I love seeing other people’s visual journals, workbooks and sketchbooks.

Little Books Explained

Posted on by Alexandra Schaefers
In The Slough, Greeting Card Book by Alexandra Schaefers

I picked up In the Slough from PaperJam Press yesterday, it is now available in my new WooCommerce shop under the “Books” tab. I’m really excited about making more Little Books. It seemed like a good way for me to be able to do what I love most—illustrate my own nature poems into short books—while also providing something useful to others by making them card size and providing a place to write a note to a loved one in it.

These days we are rightfully tired of clutter, wary of collecting and gifting unnecessary junk and we want to reduce our negative impact on the environment. Since Little Books house heartfelt, intimate poems they can be seen and felt as a special gift while using very little extra resources than a traditional greeting card. They are presents for people we love who really don’t want more stuff. They are for people who love to give gifts but want responsible options.

These are printed on 100% recycled paper. I rode my bike to the shop to look over the proof and took the bus to pick up the finished copies. I even rode my bike to the post-office this morning to send out my first orders. I am going to try my best to keep up the alternative transportation theme so these books can have a hint of environmental stewardship added to their value.

I have a 50% off sale to celebrate the opening of my shop and the completion of my second Little Book, it runs through May 14th. I’d love to know what you think of this idea!

A Strange Amount of Courage

Posted on by Alexandra Schaefers

Cascade Head South Trail is a fairy tale staircase of exposed roots climbing through a cavern of giant spruce trees and berry thickets into the meadows that overlook the ocean.

The forest light grows dim as I walk back down the hill. Swainson’s Thrushes are filling the wood with their mystic arpeggios and sometimes it sounds like there is one right next to the trail. I stop and try to spot some in the tall leafy brush to no avail. They are good at hiding, being still, throwing their voices.

Around a bend I startle one into noisy wing beats and watch it fly deeper into the brush. Then one flies up the trail and lands on a tree in plain sight. I spot it in my binoculars long enough to see the brown spots across its breast but it takes off before I can focus.

The light continues to fade so I forget about spotting birds and listen instead to the spiraling songs coming from every direction, the water-drop calls traded back and forth.

Once, a coworker asked me if I knew which species of bird made a particular song. Before he even began his description, I knew that he must be talking about a Swainson’s Thrush because of the wonder in his eyes. He had clearly been touched by something shimmery that transcended the roughness of the world.

Down the trail a ways I hear a Varied Thrush sing, the eerie harmonic of its simple one note song drifting through the woods. If my coworker had been asking about a Varied Thrush, his eyes would have held awe and a little apprehension after encountering the seedy underworld this bird had given him a glimpse of by parting his thoughts like a heavy velvet curtain.

I don’t want to leave. But a few days from now at home in a seemingly unrelated conversation I will learn something about harmonics while talking to a friend.

Men are so attractive when they share their expertise, I say explaining my latest crush.

Humans are attractive when they are in their purpose, my friend replies. He’s right, intellectual prowess is not what I find attractive about this guy, its passion. He spent his life immersed in the things he loves and now seems deeply imbued with them.

I consider my own passions and decide it is not a thing to double check or assess rationally in terms of what I can give the world. We have a right to make our lives matter to ourselves, even if they matter to no one else.

It seems like a small thing. But for some of us it requires a strange amount of courage to choose—to believe our passion will be a touching harmonic, even if it only floats through the far woods, occasionally touching a dusk traveler who slips out of their thoughts to love the seedy, unplanned life they so elegantly inhabit.

Having Tea with the Artist’s Existential Dilemma

Posted on by Alexandra Schaefers

The other day I was perusing the internet when I read this beautiful quote by Courtney Martin on OnBeing’s Instagram, Make relationships that are reciprocal, not transactional. Makes lives that aren’t easy, but rife with good material. Make art that matters.

Inspired I looked up Martin and read a transcript from a commencement speech she made about the challenges of being an artist.

In one spot Martin talked about self-loathing and—not being the first time I’ve heard a creative person talk about self-loathing as a regular part of the journey—I decided to give the issue some thought.

My goal has always been to eradicate negative feelings toward myself. It’s a fight that emboldens it’s own enemy and becomes quickly futile. But what if these feelings are just part of the creative ecology? Not that all artists suffer internally, but that there is a required quota many of us have been assigned to. Or maybe an intense desire for honesty gets transformed into a plague of self-loathing for those that carry even a tiny seed of self-doubt.

It occurred to me to try a different approach. Instead of responding to self-loathing by dismantling my entire life and value system down to bare dirt and intently questioning each scrap of wood and nail as I build it back up, maybe I could just invite the self-loathing to tea as I’ve heard some Buddhists do, inspired by stories of Buddha inviting his own demons to tea as an honored guests.

Hello Self-loathing, it is hard to be an artist today, what would you like to talk about?

Perhaps I could have some influence if I take the time to make friends with this state of mind. Eventually I could level with it: I know you’d like to take this opportunity to scour every thought I’ve ever had to see if I am the real thing but I can assure you that it’s not possible to know and doesn’t matter. I am not strong enough to be something else, you are stuck being an artist and possibly a fraud. Is there something less existential you might enjoy doing today?

In the past I’ve benefited from a similar exercise I learned in one of Cheri Huber’s many books on mediation practice. When I became mired in melancholy I would sit down and write from the voices of the sorry feelings. It was quite amazing. Emotions that seemed overwhelming and debilitating would boil down to very simple issues once I let them rant for a while: You haven’t done anything social all week, do you hate me or what? That’s an easy fix once I see it clearly and then I feel like a human again.

Another example: I am really stressed out about that class I have to teach next week and I am dreading doing the prep.

It is easier to negotiate with a voice than a feeling: You’ve gotten a lot of feedback that would suggest you are good at teaching. But also, I don’t care if you bomb this class, I’ll still be here for you. Remember the last three times I avoided doing class prep but once I got started it was fun?

It’s still hard to get started but it’s easier after airing the discontent and worry. I also have more time to do the prep when I feel I can stop planning how to get a loan to build a tiny house in the field at my mom’s as any good failure would do.

I imagine many healthy people have these conversations in their heads automatically before they bog down without really being aware of it. Also, I’m not convinced this would help someone with clinical depression but it works well enough for me to suggest it.

There is a gift, I’m sure, in a propensity toward self-doubt. All of our challenges have the power to make us compassionate, to make us more resilient and capable. But most of all they are the terrain before us and we have a right to be intrigued with our path instead of worrying about how to get to the place we think we should be.