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<!--Generated by Squarespace Site Server v5.11.81 (http://www.squarespace.com/) on Tue, 14 Feb 2012 06:11:20 GMT--><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/"><title>Blog</title><subtitle>Blog</subtitle><id>http://www.thegratefulartist.com/blog/</id><link rel="alternate" type="application/xhtml+xml" href="http://www.thegratefulartist.com/blog/"/><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.thegratefulartist.com/blog/atom.xml"/><updated>2012-02-06T10:48:42Z</updated><generator uri="http://www.squarespace.com/" version="Squarespace Site Server v5.11.81 (http://www.squarespace.com/)">Squarespace</generator><entry><title>Color Theory Class in the Bark of a Tree</title><id>http://www.thegratefulartist.com/blog/2012/2/6/color-theory-class-in-the-bark-of-a-tree.html</id><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.thegratefulartist.com/blog/2012/2/6/color-theory-class-in-the-bark-of-a-tree.html"/><author><name>Elizabeth</name></author><published>2012-02-06T10:47:43Z</published><updated>2012-02-06T10:47:43Z</updated><content type="html" xml:lang="en-US"><![CDATA[<div id=":bz" class="adO adP gt ii">
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<div>I'm  teaching another color theory class and when I discovered this tree in  the woods last weekend, all I could think about were the students who  are working with color. &nbsp;The bark on this tree was alive with color. &nbsp;My  camera caught some of the color but not all, or its intensity. Standing  there in the woods I felt like I was looking at a rainbow, only instead  of it being in the sky it was there, on these two tree trunks. &nbsp;It made  me think about the importance of what we are learning in class as the  color was anything but what you might assume a tree would be. &nbsp;</div>
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</table>]]></content></entry><entry><title>New Beginnings</title><id>http://www.thegratefulartist.com/blog/2012/1/27/new-beginnings.html</id><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.thegratefulartist.com/blog/2012/1/27/new-beginnings.html"/><author><name>Elizabeth</name></author><published>2012-01-27T01:57:02Z</published><updated>2012-01-27T01:57:02Z</updated><content type="html" xml:lang="en-US"><![CDATA[<p><img class="iphone-image" src="http://www.thegratefulartist.com/resource/iphone-20120126205702-1.jpg?fileId=16262963"/></p><p>Odd, I've used a shot of this little tree before in an earlier post and here I am, titling this post, New Beginnings.  Tonight tho that is what comes to mind as I look at this recent shot of the same little tree.  I took the prior post shot in the fall, no snow in the scene and the tree was camouflaged by brown and tan grasses that surrounded it.  Now that same tree is highlighted by the bright white snow, it looks fresh and ready to grow. </p><p>I started a new set of classes this week, 6 groups in all.  Its a new beginning as we explore the arts at ever deeper levels.  Each person attending is bringing an appetite to grow this part of themselves, the artist that resides within. Its exciting to be a part of this process, reminds me of the importance of the journey.  Just like my classes are off to a new beginning, so is my life as we re- group after a challenging December.   I like this new photo of the tiny tree.  Its all about new beginnings and possibilities.  Just like my students in class and just like my life.  New beginnings and new possibilities.</p>]]></content></entry><entry><title>A Window In the Forest</title><id>http://www.thegratefulartist.com/blog/2012/1/14/a-window-in-the-forest.html</id><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.thegratefulartist.com/blog/2012/1/14/a-window-in-the-forest.html"/><author><name>Elizabeth</name></author><published>2012-01-14T16:41:46Z</published><updated>2012-01-14T16:41:46Z</updated><content type="html" xml:lang="en-US"><![CDATA[<p><img class="iphone-image" src="http://www.thegratefulartist.com/resource/iphone-20120114114146-1.jpg?fileId=16035831"/></p><p>It certainly has been a challenging 6 weeks, but lately a window has opened.  I noticed this shot in my iphoto this morning and it spoke to me about where we have been since early December.  Not exactly lost in the woods, but it was hard to see the trees in the forest.  Slowly some things have cleared and a path is beginning to open up, much like this small framed window in the distance created by this stand of trees.  I think we see a path out of the deep woods that we have been somewhat lost in. With high hopes, I like the image of walking towards the light in this shot. I'm grateful for both the mental and very real image this shot represents to me!  Art and visual images really can bring clarity of thought</p>]]></content></entry><entry><title>Classes Starting!!!!</title><id>http://www.thegratefulartist.com/blog/2012/1/5/classes-starting.html</id><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.thegratefulartist.com/blog/2012/1/5/classes-starting.html"/><author><name>Elizabeth</name></author><published>2012-01-05T23:19:19Z</published><updated>2012-01-05T23:19:19Z</updated><content type="html" xml:lang="en-US"><![CDATA[<p><img class="iphone-image" src="http://www.thegratefulartist.com/resource/iphone-20120105181919-1.jpg?fileId=15893726"/></p><p>If you are interested in drawing or painting classes, please contact me and I'll fill you in on dates and times. I'll be starting classes the week of January 23rd. Abeelbetsy@gmail.com or thegratefulartist@gmail.com<br />I look forward to hearing from you!</p><p>(Image via Simon Holden)</p>]]></content></entry><entry><title>Choices</title><id>http://www.thegratefulartist.com/blog/2012/1/2/choices.html</id><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.thegratefulartist.com/blog/2012/1/2/choices.html"/><author><name>Elizabeth</name></author><published>2012-01-02T22:20:29Z</published><updated>2012-01-02T22:20:29Z</updated><content type="html" xml:lang="en-US"><![CDATA[<p><img class="iphone-image" src="http://www.thegratefulartist.com/resource/iphone-20120102172029-1.jpg?fileId=15836007"/></p><p><br />Definitely an odd holiday what with the sudden employment change in our life, but each new day is a new day.  Our family was gathered at the cottage for Christmas and on one of the days we walked the beach.  As always I had my camera with me.  I've learned I never have to know what shots will become blog posts or what a shot may trigger for a post. I just need to be mindful and things will develop.  I loaded the shots the other day into the computer and this is the one that became my trigger for today.</p><p>Its a rather unassuming shot, perhaps you might even say dull.  But everything has a context, a frame of reference and today this became anything but dull to me.  I know the history of these pilings pictured in the shot. They were once part of a pier that made loading logs from the nearby sawmill possible onto the great ships of the great lakes. All that lumber making the building of Chicago possible.</p><p>Today, only the pilings, the things that held up that docking system are all that remains.  They could be viewed as just lonely abandoned sentinels to a past era.  However, as I look at them today, I can see that view clearly, but this shot also gives me another vantage point from which to see them, if I choose.  They can be viewed as stepping stones or a structure to assist in getting from here to there.  From this angle they look like they can reach across the lake and into the future.  I like this view of them today, its a hopeful filled view.  I can conjure up the hustle and bustle that filled the dock years ago and I can also choose to see them supporting an invisible structure that leads outward and onward.  I like that view, I need that view as we walk into a slightly less clear future than that of a few weeks back.  </p><p>Instead of seeing cold, icy, lonely pilings, I'm choosing to see a path laid before me.  I'm grateful for the calm water surrounding the path as we begin this new journey.  </p>]]></content></entry><entry><title>Spontaneous Happiness</title><id>http://www.thegratefulartist.com/blog/2011/12/21/spontaneous-happiness.html</id><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.thegratefulartist.com/blog/2011/12/21/spontaneous-happiness.html"/><author><name>Elizabeth</name></author><published>2011-12-21T01:23:03Z</published><updated>2011-12-21T01:23:03Z</updated><content type="html" xml:lang="en-US"><![CDATA[<p>Following the link below will take you to a recent NPR show about gratitude and happiness.  It's an interview with Andrew Wiel about his new book. I particularly like his comments about gratitude.<br />http://www.npr.org/2011/12/02/143055122/combating-depression-with-meditation-diet</p>]]></content></entry><entry><title>Dog Therapy</title><id>http://www.thegratefulartist.com/blog/2011/12/16/dog-therapy.html</id><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.thegratefulartist.com/blog/2011/12/16/dog-therapy.html"/><author><name>Elizabeth</name></author><published>2011-12-16T02:39:33Z</published><updated>2011-12-16T02:39:33Z</updated><content type="html" xml:lang="en-US"><![CDATA[<p><img class="iphone-image" src="http://www.thegratefulartist.com/resource/iphone-20111215213933-1.jpg?fileId=15623921"/></p><p>I have to say this has not been the best of times, we got some bummer employment news two weeks ago.  In the scale of the universe and the challenges that I know others are facing, ours is not the end of the world.  Its a bump in life's road and we will get past it.  I have to say that the dogs pictured here, the work I am doing on my book coupled with all the years of paying attention to my inner artist are giving me the tools to adjust to this new situation in our life.  </p><p>We took the dogs for a run in the woods last weekend.  I can't help but smile when I see them together, Tuli's flying ears as she hops down the trail.  I swear that dog can make a person smile on the darkest of days.  Then there is the book that I'm working on.  Crazy as this might sound, I'm so fortunate to have my own words talking to me right now. They are reminding me its the small things that matter and comfort is all around us if we just open our eyes.  </p><p>During that walk last weekend, the sun shone brilliantly, lighting up the entire field of grass, it glowed from the inside out. The dogs had a blast as they raced through the field. Later, when I returned and loaded my photos into the computer, I got to live the day all over again.  I am grateful for the wonder that the arts have taught me to find in the natural world.  Beauty is all around us no matter our circumstance.  Noticing it, can lighten our circumstance.</p>]]></content></entry><entry><title>Invincible Summer</title><id>http://www.thegratefulartist.com/blog/2011/12/2/invincible-summer.html</id><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.thegratefulartist.com/blog/2011/12/2/invincible-summer.html"/><author><name>Elizabeth</name></author><published>2011-12-02T23:43:30Z</published><updated>2011-12-02T23:43:30Z</updated><content type="html" xml:lang="en-US"><![CDATA[<p><img class="iphone-image" src="http://www.thegratefulartist.com/resource/iphone-20111202184330-1.jpg?fileId=15417265"/></p><p>I was re-introduced to the following quote by Albert Camus during a difficult time this fall.  " In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer."  I doubt there is much more I could write, those words are powerful enough.  Life can be incredibly hard, painful, challenging and we may think at times unfair, but as I still contemplate the loss of my friend, especially during this holiday season, I take comfort in the words of Camus as they were spoken at her memorial.  My friend embodied these words, her life did encounter profound sorrow and hardship.  Yet, in spite of those sorrows she learned to live Camus discovery and I celebrate the wisdom in her wisdom to live these words. As we await winters white blanket, both the beauty and the difficulty it represents, I'm grateful for the wake up call to dig deep and discover the summer that resides in all of us, no matter the season.  I thank my friend for her gift to remind me of this, and when it sometimes feels like summer has disappeared, to dig a little deeper in search of it.  The arts, no matter the form, can provide a beautiful tool for this excavation.  Don't hesitate, dig in!</p>]]></content></entry><entry><title>Link- Gratitude</title><id>http://www.thegratefulartist.com/blog/2011/11/27/link-gratitude.html</id><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.thegratefulartist.com/blog/2011/11/27/link-gratitude.html"/><author><name>Elizabeth</name></author><published>2011-11-27T14:28:47Z</published><updated>2011-11-27T14:28:47Z</updated><content type="html" xml:lang="en-US"><![CDATA[<p><iframe width="560" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/gXDMoiEkyuQ" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></p>
<p>sometimes embedded videos don't play easily, if having trouble please click this link to see the video</p>
<p>http://youtu.be/gXDMoiEkyuQ</p>]]></content></entry><entry><title>Friendship</title><id>http://www.thegratefulartist.com/blog/2011/11/14/friendship.html</id><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.thegratefulartist.com/blog/2011/11/14/friendship.html"/><author><name>Elizabeth</name></author><published>2011-11-14T22:58:25Z</published><updated>2011-11-14T22:58:25Z</updated><content type="html" xml:lang="en-US"><![CDATA[<p><img class="iphone-image" src="http://www.thegratefulartist.com/resource/iphone-20111114175801-1.jpg?fileId=15123666"/></p><p></p><p>For those of you who have read my posts I think its getting clear that the photos act as triggers, symbols and inspiration for thoughts. Thoughts I am not always aware I am even having.  Such as it is with this one.  I thought of this particular photo while driving back from a downstate visit. I never want to invade my friends privacy by posting names, faces or anything personal, but I can use my camera to capture spirit. This shot does that for me. </p><p>I spent this past weekend visiting a dear friend downstate.  It was a great visit on so many levels.  As I look at Tuli and Dylan on their walk together in this field, knowing how connected the two of them are, I can't help but think of my weekend and the special time I spent with my friend.  Just as Tuli and Dylan are different in breed, looks, age and stage, it doesn't get in the way of their connectedness.  They were roaming in a huge field and yet, they are side by side, sharing connectedness in spite of difference.  </p><p>Great friendships are just like that.  I am so fortunate to have a friend who shares a common interest in the arts but is just a little ahead of me on life's path. She has experiences in things I have not, and she was so generous with her time and the sharing of her life's wisdom.  I left Traverse City with a jumble of way too many ideas and projects all bumping into each other in my brain.  Thanks to her I found clarity, order and capacity to move forward without feeling so confused.  I look at the path that Dylan and Tuli are walking beside in this shot, and think how much better it is to have friends to share the journey.  Even the subtle beautiful fall colors in this field become more vivid and clear to me now.  This post is about gratitude to friendship, to all my friends, thank you for walking the path and taking life's journey with me!</p><p></p>]]></content></entry></feed>
