I have never been great at promoting myself, but now more than ever I am feeling the pull toward more art and creative pursuits, especially as they link to spirituality. To that end I have created a Facebook page for my art business: Robertson Studios, as a way to get my name out there a bit more. If you’re interested in arty farty stuff….would you do me a favour and “like” me? Please? Don’t make me beg (click on the picture below to be taken to the page)

I haven’t felt like writing in ages.

It’s not that I don’t want to.

It’s just that I feel empty, like there’s no words to come out, or maybe they’ve all been used up. At least for awhile.

My brain is exhausted I think.

Wrung out.

Perhaps I need to soak it in some creative juices for a bit. Saturate it in beautiful, inspiring things until my own creative juices start to flow again.

I don’t know.

Those of you who know me will know that I started mountain biking about six months ago and very quickly became obsessed with it. I lie awake the night before I go out for a ride and imagine myself riding the trails. It keeps me awake. I am so excited and so taken with the prospect of riding the single track that my brain will not let me rest. I’m visualising the turns and how I might tackle the obstacles that I know are waiting for me, and that have perhaps bucked me off in the past. I can’t help it.

I attended my first skills camp in September 2010

Late last year I worked with a life coach to sort through some things from my past that were blocking my creativity and productivity. The more we talked each week, the more I found myself comparing my approach to life to the mountain biking that was gradually taking over my thoughts life.

I talked about how I tackled obstacles in life in much the same way I approached them on the bike. I discovered that I handle difficult parts of my life in much the same way that I tackle steep uphill sections of my rides. I constantly compared the most creative and joyful parts of my life the the wonderful flowing downhill parts of my favourite tracks that left me feeling elated and almost high. The focus and absorption that blocks out all else when I am riding is exactly the same as the all encompassing concentration I feel when I am taken in by a passage that I’m writing or a portrait that I am drawing and everything else fades away to the point of losing track of time.

You will do what you believe
It is my very firm belief that 90% of mountain biking skill is all about the head game. I can tell you this because I’m only six months into the adventure, and I am a very nervous nelly. I baulk at an awful lot of obstacles that my boys just hoon right over. I am a LOT better than I used to be, but it’s an ongoing process of talking myself into things. Building confidence. Talking to myself in positive terms. And as soon as I’ve done something once…I’m fine…I can do it again no problem at all. Once I believe that I can do something…I CAN do that thing. In this crazy game called life, what you believe about yourself and about your world is critical. What you believe governs what you do, but we rarely take the time to really think about what we believe until we hit an obstacle. I’m finding it makes life a lot easier if I take time to think positively and understand what I believe and what I am capable of doing before I get to the obstacles.

Relax dammit!!
As important as it is to relax going downhill on a bike so that it can move underneath you and bounce over rocks and gullies without giving you a sore butt, it’s even more important to relax going up hill. I inevitably waste an awful lot of energy tensing up my body, concentrating and pre-empting what might happen around the next corner. It’s a natural reaction to the circumstances. You’re working hard, and it feels “right” to be tense and intense about the climb. But it’s counter-productive! You’re sinking all of your energy into that white-knuckle grip you have on the handlebars! When I remember to relax I can actually go faster for longer. The action is sustainable if my body is relaxed. The same thing happens in life. If I allow myself to become stressed and wound up about things in life, I inevitably crash and burn and snap at my guys and get sick much more often! If I can relax and go with the flow, life is definitely more enjoyable and I can keep up the mad pace much more easily.

Keep your wheels rolling
The only way to get over any obstacle on a bike is to keep moving, and to keep moving at a decent pace. Momentum is your friend, and a moving bike is a stable bike. If you are moving you are more likely to roll straight over that rock or through the gully without being bucked straight over the handlebars. The slower you go, the more likely you are to fall off. Keeping your wheels rolling is even more important going up hill. You stop pedaling and you fall off, and if you slow your pace it is twice as hard to get back up to speed. It’s the same in life. There is no standing still. You are either moving forward, growing and changing and developing as you move through life, or you’re going backwards. Deteriorating.

Hook all of these together and you’re in for the kind of ride that sustains you and brings a huge grin to your face. It’s the kind of ride that lets you sail right past the crappy stuff and keep moving. It’s the kind of ride that provides the endorphin release that makes an unchangeably bad situation suddenly bearable. Its the kind of ride that gives you space in your own head to just be. It’s the kind of ride that allows you to truly enjoy the rush, even if you did fall off and skin your knees. I almost always have bruises up and down my legs and arms from stacking my bike, but I always go back for more. And I always lie awake at night wondering how I could do it better the next time. The payoff is worth the pain in the same way that living a fully engaged life is worth the lumps and bumps that I encounter along the way.

It tickles my strange sense of humour that I have a movie like this to play in my brain that presents an exciting picture of what my approach to life is like and gives me concrete strategies and encouragement when I come up against obstacles.

Do you have a way of visualising the way you do life? I’d love to hear about it.

I had the amazing good fortune of meeting a young lady by the name of Penny and her brother Alex yesterday lunchtime. I think Penny was about three or four years old. Alex was five.

It was the quintessential perfect Spring day in Canberra. Clear blue skies. Temperature in the low 20s. No wind to speak of. It was the kind of day that brings out the pretty flowery dresses for the first time in the season. It was a gorgeous day.

I decided to sit outside, soak up some vitamin D and engage in some people-watching while I ate my lunch and had barely settled onto the bench before two sweet little faces popped out from behind the nearby bushes.

Penny: There’s a monster!!!

Me: Ooh where?

Penny: Right behind you!

Me: Oh no! How big is it? Is it scary?

Penny: (holds her hand up to indicate how big) this big! It has teeth and goes grrrrrr!

Me: Does it have boogly eyes?

Penny: Oh yes! Big ones!

Me: What colour is it?

Penny: Purple with white and pink stripes!

Alex: Here it comes! Look out!

Penny and Me: AAAAH!

Around the end of my seat came the cutest little monster I have ever seen…it had curly blonde pigtails and a precocious grin.

Monster: GRRRRR!

Penny: We have to poke it with a stick! (at this point Penny is brandishing a twig she had liberated from a nearby bush)

Alex: YES!

The monster turned out to be Penny and Alex’s little sister…I guess she must have been about 2ish. It was a good thing she had a squidgey little belly, because she did indeed get poked. The more she roared, the more they poked her, and the more they all giggled. It was wonderful. Like music.

This scene went on for a good 10-15 minutes before their mum came to get them, and told them to stop bothering the lady.

I think that meeting Penny the monster-slayer was possibly the high point of my week.

Playing monsters and letting my imagination run wild fed my inner artist this week, and for that I am grateful.

I’m sitting here procrastinating about writing an assignment that is supposed to talk about solving the Synoptic Problem, all the while fretting about the support agreement that I am supposed to be writing when I get back to work next week (I’ve never written one of those before). I’m procrastinating because I’d much rather be writing my own material…writing my own books and drawing my own pictures.

A Twitter conversation a couple of days ago sparked some memories of the books I used to love to read when I was a kid, and that still inspire me today to write and to draw. I thought I’d share (and procrastinate some more)

I have always loved to read; and I have always sought inspiration and refuge in equal parts between the pages of books.

From the moment I was able to borrow library books from the school library I maintained a bag-load of glossy tomes to keep me entertained. I remember during one phase I borrowed masses and masses of craft books that were packed full of cheesy 70s paper mâché and macrame projects, and I think I drove my mother insane with requests to make things.

Other times I devoured novels and found myself hiding in the leaves of the magic faraway tree or exploring foreign lands with characters I met nestled within the black and white lines of text. I’d lie in bed at night and wish that the people I met in those books were real and that my dolls would come to life. (Am I the only one to have done that?)

Some books left more of a lasting impression than others.

Some books I borrowed over and over and my name appeared on the borrowing card more than anyone else’s for the years I was at that school. All of the books that I borrowed repeatedly had similar characteristics,  and I borrowed them for the same reason. They inspired me. They made me dream and imagine a future of action. The funny thing is that these books continue to inspire me thirty years later.

The first set of books are picture books written and illustrated by Bill Peet (Walt Disney’s best writer and storyboard man). Beautiful rhyming stories accompanied by vivid colored pencil illustrations. Whimsical stories. I still borrowed these books right up until I was in grade 6. I would read them and dream of writing my own books and drawing the pictures to go with them.

The other book that I borrowed over and over was an equally whimsical piece of work with page after page of gorgeous watercolour paintings. A book that had me searching under logs and within canopies of leaves for little people for many years.

I bought myself a copy of this book a couple of years back, and I still look at it from time to time. Such remarkable attention to detail and beautiful artwork! Such imagination!

Ever since I was a child I have dreamed of becoming a writer and artist. These books fed that dream.

Sometimes when I get busy writing technical specifications and business cases I forget to feed the dreams of my inner artist and they begin to wither, and I get tired and jaded.

I am learning that it’s important to keep dreaming. To nurture the creative connection to our Creator. To allow that connection to be expressed.

The books I want to write and the art I want to create these days bear little resemblance to my childhood dreams, but the desire to write and to create is as strong as ever…….now, if I could just knock off this assignment and stop worrying about work that I don’t need to do until next week…….

What inspires you? Do you think it’s important to be inspired in life? Even as an adult?