Years ago, when I was a practicing artist, I would spend hours in my studio, a.k.a. kitchen, sculpting from clay, and painting on stretched canvasses.  I recall the feeling I had afterward, as I went out for lunch or coffee.  There was a buzz throughout my body.  I was in an altered state.

The feeling was similar to how I feel now when I am sensing my soul’s presence.  I never recognized that feeling for what it was.  Those times of deep and sensual focus were an invitation to my soul to come on in close.

I no longer consider myself that same devoted artist who paints in her studio.  But I am creative.  I find ways to express that creativity, not because I think it’s who I am, but because it just feels so good.

And of course there are a myriad of ways to express, as we all know.  It doesn’t have to be artistic at all.  And we discover that we don’t have to do anything at all to feel the sensual presence of our soul.

But looking back, which, by the way, I rarely do, I miss that creative community.  No, I didn’t belong to a group of artists or live in an art community of any kind.  I often wished I could.  I would have loved to be surrounded by fellow artists, writers and musicians,   I came close to that dream when I was considering moving to a small but viable art community in Hershey, Pennsylvania.

I would drive there often from New Jersey and spend time with other artists, creating murals.  There were galleries and cafes where artists of all types would gather.   Artists were buying up real estate and converting them into artists homes and studios.

But the friend I was going to share the dream with passed away.  And my art community, it seems, died with her.  She was the main energy that would have pulled it all together.  At least, for me.

Being the artist was a lonely road.  It took a huge amount of effort to get artwork considered for display in art studios and to sell it.  We had no internet to make the job easier.

I took slides of all my work, labeled all of them by hand, wrote up a resume, and mailed it all to various galleries.  Then the wait could be months at a time for any kind of response.

And, with one or two exceptions, it was not the response we wanted to hear.  The art business, like most, is competitive, and political.  It is often who you know.  Add to that the lack of self confidence of being an artist whose work was ahead of its time.

Mine were soul portraits of strong, colorful, rather androgynous women.

But, I did get a break once, and a gallery owner offered me a space in her gallery. She had many clients from New York and she did sell a few of my pieces.

My work was most popular within the gay community.  Looking back I can see why. The figures embodied a more balanced masculine and feminine.

Being creative on this planet isn’t exactly rewarded, but I can’t imagine not being able to express my soul through writing, art and music.  I feel very blessed.

it’s ironic that with the awakening we are require to be more in touch with our senses, with our imagination, and our intuition.  While at the same time, those qualities are dismissed by our culture.

A culture in which people prefer to be entertained, without having to use their imaginations at all.

While the collective is moving more toward a mental approach to life, we who are embodying spirit are moving away from that, and toward the creative and sensual approach.

And by creative, I mean the ability to create using the esoteric tools, not so much the physical ones.  But the physical ones can come into play.

Our soul wants to dive into its own artwork, us.  But it requires us to be present, to be willing to feel on a sensual and visceral level like we never had before.  It’s not something our human self can do on its own, but rather it’s a partnership with our soul.

Now we have the opportunity to let her be the artist.

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