I'm not sure when exactly I began thinking of creativity, generally, and of the dynamics of creative living, in particular, in terms of life force, or energy. Those activities and attitudes that are life-giving versus those that take it away. Indeed, I was, you might say, "smacked over the head" with an aha moment recently [...]
I began this blog with the hopes of achieving a lofty goal, to use the life within me to beget a more creative life. A move toward being the most authentic possible version of myself. To foster my creative energies, to develop and focus my talents. Indeed, it may be said that I've learned a [...]
I was fascinated to learn that Carl Jung discovered the therapeutic benefits of creativity by, himself, re-enacting a form of childhood play. An attempt to uncover the roots of an early psychological conflict. To be sure, such a desire to experiment on oneself, to delve into one's unconscious so rigorously and imaginatively, requires a playfulness [...]
I view the striving for originality as, first, a struggle for life. To preserve, expand, and affirm oneself. To actualize one's inherent, energetic potential. About a year ago, I published a post titled, When You Have Too Much Life..., in which I discuss what it feels like to have one's creativity, attempts at expressing the [...]
In On the Art of Femininity, I suggest that, in and of itself, the feminine is "enough." That it represents a totality. One which seeks in its opposite not completion, but a full complement. As in the joining of two people, the intertwining of forces in an intimate relationship, another kind of wholeness. And one [...]
I want to know what femininity looks like. I want to know where it lives. Where it hides. As Carl Jung describes the overlapping of the conscious and unconscious at certain "points" in the personality, I want to view the coordinates of the feminine. I want a picture. A map. Something. I tend to be [...]
Half of my soul is a hippie A Fleetwood Mac loving, Allman Brothers singing, pretty gypsy tattoo slinging, I can't remember if I cried when I left on that midnight train to Georgia kind of girl All free verse Living fast out of a suitcase (One of the best times of my life) I went [...]
