What can I say about my week at Squam Art Workshops? There are both too many words and things that can't ever be put into words. But I'm going to try.
It's not often in life that we get to do something that can be described as life-changing. Most of the time I, like pretty much everyone else on this planet, plod through my daily routines, not think or examining the what or the why. When offered a chance to spend five days in the woods making art, I jumped at it. Some of you know that my job can mostly be described as "creative" but my work is not mine, it belongs to the company. It has a purpose and a goal and I don't get to keep it, literally and figuratively. My work is also demanding, and though the daily challenges can be a gift it is also hard to maintain a space just for me.
Elizabeth, the founder of Squam Art Workshops, asked me to be the keynote speaker at the fall session of Squam about a year ago and I have been looking forward to it/quite nervous about it ever since. Nervous because I was travelling and attending mostly alone and because I was speaking to a crowd of 150 people, looking forward because, well, it was Squam and I have always wanted to go.
I have heard that, though everyone's experience at Squam is different, it is intense, cathartic and emotional, like a spark plug of creativity, that kick in the pants we all need to ditch the excuses and start making things. There is an incredible feeling of nurturing and understanding at Squam: there is no wrong way to experience a week there. You can go to ever class and event or none, make new friends or keep to yourself, eat your veggies or have waffles a la mode for breakfast, lunch and dinner.
In five days I re-learned that there are people out there that are "my people", that I am creative and that I can actually speak in front of 150 people and I can do it well.
I learned that the fancy shoes and the big-city cynicism that I often hide behind aren't worth a damn.
I learned that when people tell you to pack layers for cold New Hampshire nights, they are not joking around.
I accepted that loving solitude is OK, that it doesn't make me defective.
I remembered that I like the woods, the quiet, the slowing down, actually seeing stars in the sky.
I remembered what it was like to make things just for me, how good it feels.
I learned that Squam is this little magical wonderland and that I can't wait to go back.
Tomorrow I'm going to talk more about my classes and the work I made...