Surrealism is defined by releasing the creative potential of the unconscious mind. The idea is broad, and the results are limitless – after all, that is the point of surrealism. To never be constrained by your own limitations, our own smallness.

I love creating surreal works. It lets you break free of your conscious mind. We could all use a little more of that.

I’ll pull some of the art that I see this week to feature!
Use the hashtag #PromotingPassionChallenge so I can find you!

Here is some food for thought. Enjoy the challenge, and remember to push yourself creatively!

There was a long period of time when I felt like everything I made had to be amazing. Screw that.

I’m so far past that I think I might be going in the opposite direction. I liken it to choosing friends when you’re really young.

At first, you want everyone to be your friend. You have an insatiable desire to be liked. And you quickly learn what behaviors are widely accepted and which are not, so perhaps, you adopt the behaviors that reward you with praise.

And then you realize how exhausting it is to keep up that many friendships, and how unmanageable it is to spread yourself so thin. You start to get anxious over presenting yourself in the best way possible, and you worry that if your friends see you for who you are – imperfect – they won’t like you any more.

And some day, you rebel against that. You clean closet. You get rid of friends that don’t accept you for your weirdness and your flaws.

Well folks, here we are. I cleaned out my closet a while back. Since then, I’ve been sharing my failed images. I’ve been sharing the times when I hate creating, or nothing goes right. I’ve been sharing those moments of sheer panic, frustration, and anxiety. I share everything. Everything art-related, it’s all out there.

I’ve stopped caring if you (the broad You), think I’m a bad artist or a good one, or an artist at all. I don’t care if you hate my art, share my art, wish my art had never been made. I don’t care if you make fun of me, think I’m weird, or any other mundane, idiotic thing someone might think.

Because honestly, it is boring. And it is silly. And it’s not worth our time – mine or yours.

So if you’re here, it’s likely because you’re weird too. Because you accept me for who I am. Because we’re weirdos and we love it, and hey world, we don’t care.

Speaking of that long period of time where I did care what people thought, seeing as it took a while for me to be as empowered in my weirdness as I am now: I used to be ashamed when I made something that wasn’t great.

This new image I made the other day isn’t my best. But I love it. It satisfied a primal need to create. I wanted to make something where before there was nothing. One of the greatest and most interesting things about humans is our desire to play God – to create where once there was nothing. In so many ways. Artists are the obvious example.

So I made this thing. It’s a self-portrait covered in hands. I’ve done that before. I touch on this a lot in my voicemail. And when I finished it, I thought, “Hmph. It looks a lot like other images I’ve made. It’s not special. I shouldn’t share this.”

And then I realized what I just did. I just degraded something I made simply because it isn’t the most fresh and new thing. Simply because I thought YOU might be bored with it.

And when I say YOU, I mean the YOU of the Internet that steps on artists who don’t fit their vision. People who think that art is made for them, personally. People who get bored too easily because that’s the time we live in. And the people who don’t care how fulfilled an artist is by their own work.

That is not you, because you’re still reading this. (Well done, by the way. I ramble).

I loved making this picture.
I love this picture.
I love creating. Everytime. No matter the outcome.

I’m so glad that I’m intentionally making time for myself to create no matter what. No matter the whim or inspiration; no matter the hang-worthiness of it. No matter. No matter.

And that is what I wish you for you. To create without worry. To create because you must. To create because you feel a primal urge to make something out of nothing. To create, no matter what.

No matter.

No matter.

Inspiration & moons,
Brooke

Opportunity?

Success?

The right moment?

It is so easy to wait. I fall into this trap regularly. I think to myself, “This isn’t a good time, surely things will get better.” Or I say, “I’ll wait to do this until I have more _________,” insert whatever word fits for you: money, time, energy, hope, help, tools, gear, etc.

There are many things I’ve put off in my life. Making a documentary. Creating a fine art book. Publishing my novel. Just to name a few.

But at the same time, there are many things I have done. I am not someone who sits and counts the seconds on the clock. I ignore the clock entirely, most days. I do what feels right despite the risk. I am, at heart, a perpetual risk-taker.

But even those of us whose brains seemed to be blocked from whatever tells us something is dangerous, it still creeps in.

That is how I know it must for other people, too. I make excuses, though I like to think of myself as someone who doesn’t. We all do.

But what if we didn’t? What if we didn’t need the life raft that excuses let us hold on to and instead we swam, for dear life, to the place where our dreams dwell?

Where would you end up?

Where would you end up if you
let go of your life raft and swam?

I don’t have a new video for you, BUT – we are a month in to White Wall Wednesday which means you have a bunch of videos to look back on. And if you haven’t joined in yet, use the hashtag #WhiteWallWednesday so that I can find your creations!

That brings me to why I’m not releasing a video today, and I’m glad for the opportunity to talk about it. We have a chronic problem of idolizing people who seem successful and swiping bad emotions under the rug. Let’s stop that nonsense.

A few things piled up this past week, physically and emotionally.

“The best way out is always through.”
― Robert Frost

I threw my back out over the weekend and I’m trying to stay horizontal as much as possible to recover. I’m doing much better (thank you for the love!) and getting out each day, but want to take it easy. That means I couldn’t swing doing a photo shoot and a video by myself.

I am also prepping for my annual convention, Promoting Passion. It’s in ONE WEEK! I’ve put this event together almost entirely alone, from finding speakers, sponsors, assistants and models to booking a venue, figuring out A/V, transportation, budgets, hotel accommodations for 165 people, and more. It has been a WHIRLWIND. One day, I’d really like to share my experience doing this. First, because it is a learning experience like none other. And second, because I’m really proud of pulling it together and would love for you to have those same skills, if you don’t already.

Third, I had some pretty life-changing emotional stuff to deal with this week. I can’t/won’t go into detail, but suffice it to say I’m a little emotionally drained right now and didn’t feel like I had enough to give you in a video. (Plus, I have to save it up for Promoting Passion!)

My life for the past month has been like a television show…I’m just not sure if it’s a drama or a comedy. My dining room table, which was covered in a full body cast of my own body, is now strewn with paperwork and goodie bags and all sorts of convention items. My computer is a mass of spreadsheets, my emails are never-ending. But you know what I’m most proud of right now in my life?

“Sometimes your joy is the source of your smile,
but sometimes your smile can be the source of your joy.”
― Thich Nhat Hanh

The joy that I’m finding in the in-between moments, even when I feel overwhelmed or when I have anxiety attacks, even when I don’t think I can handle one more responsibility. The joy is always there. The silver lining. That is my greatest super power.

Please don’t mistake my listing of tasks as unhappiness. I am wildly happy – in myself, in my life – but sometimes we get reminders to slow down. This week has been a reminder in the biggest way possible. Life gave me a massive shift in perspective, and I’m listening.

“We can complain because rose bushes have thorns,
or rejoice because thorns have roses.”
― Alphonse Karr

I’m currently on my sofa reading a great book, letting my emails pile up (just a little bit), contemplating some avocado toast. I don’t get my kicks from working myself to death; I revel in the moments of quiet that I afford. This White Wall Wednesday is a day of rest and inspiration for me.

After all, I have a convention to run next week. And I’ll be darned if I’m going to let an injured back and a touch of anxiety get in the way of me running the most passionate event on the planet.

Let’s do this, world.

With inspiration,
Brooke

P.S. Can I just give thanks for a few things:

…a soft bed and a comfy sofa, Netflix, good books, ripe avocados, cats, a husband who literally will not let me move myself, and the best community of individuals I could ever hope for to cheer me on through difficult times.

I’ll see many of you at Promoting Passion next week. And those I won’t, I’m keeping you in a warm embrace until we meet!

In the photo world, there seems to always be a debate about technique vs. concept. Some people feel passionately about technique and are very technically minded. Some people focus on the concept and say to heck with the technique. I fall into the latter category, if any, but that doesn’t mean that I dismiss technique altogether. In fact, for a while there I was so far on the side of dismissing technique that I had to pull myself back, and one big thing did that for me:

Portfolio reviews and competitions. I review a lot of portfolios, and I noticed two things.

1. A lot of people have great technique but not-so-great ideas, and…
2. A lot of other people have great ideas and not-so-great technique.

It really does take both. If your technique is flawed, the concept won’t really matter. The viewer just won’t get past the technique.

I’ve always been a believer in editing a picture until it looks and feels right; that doesn’t mean I’ve always followed through with that. I’ve certainly posted pictures online that could have been better, but impatience got the better of me. I’ve shot pictures in poor light or of bad quality simply because it was easier or faster.

But over time, I’ve come to appreciate pairing good technique with good ideas. The combination is the only thing that will propel my career. So, today I’m focusing on technique!

In this video, I…

• Pull back the Photoshop layers to glimpse at the original images before editing.
• Take a look at what my SOOC (straight out of camera) pictures were like, what decisions went into the edit, and how they ended up the way they did.
• See how I made stuffing come out of my back, created a long, swirly dress out of a bed sheet, and changed a nearly white dress to deep red.

And more, of course.

I hope you enjoy this glimpse inside. And tell me…

What technique from the video did you like best?

What is your favorite technique in your craft?

These images are available as limited edition, fine art prints on thick, matte fine art paper. Each print is proofed and signed by me, as well as numbered. Print prices begin at $450 for my small size. A number of galleries carry my work, and if you are interested in owning a piece, get in touch with the gallery nearest you: http://www.brookeshaden.com/prints

If you would like to see how I edit more in depth, check out one of my Creative Live classes for hours upon hours of photo, editing, business, and inspiration education: http://www.brookeshaden.com/classes

How, I asked myself, is it relevant to share what my days are like as an artist when everyone is different? The answer came simply: If I share how I structure my time, it might help someone else to shape their routine as well.

Comment below how you would categorize yourself:

A – Creativity is your hobby
B – Creativity is your dream career
C – Creativity is your career

Meaning, do you practice creativity for fun? Would you like to turn your passion into a career? Or, do you already make a living from something creative?

I started out with photography as my hobby. A few months later, I really wished it could be my career. And then a year after that, it was!

I’ve been working as a full-time artist (meaning that I make my living from my photography and related items) for the past 8 years. I make my living via the following avenues: print sales, image licensing sales, lecturing/teaching, and commissioned images.

Favorite quotes from the video:

“It takes being creative about how you are disciplined
and being disciplined about your creativity.”

“It takes a lot of good days to make a great career.”

Since so many of us in this community are interested in how to maximize our creative time (at the least), or to make our creative time into our full time work, I thought it would be great to share what my day is like as an artist.

For me? 50% admin, 50% creativity. Look at the to-do list I managed to complete on the day I filmed this video:

BROOKE'S TO DO LIST

Film a day in the life video
Update my CV
Write TLS email
Release blog/video/newsletter
Update licensed images list
Write pitch for grant
Yoga
Novel outline
Reading
Photo shoot
Clear emails
Build registration system
Build prop

The only thing I didn’t finish was that last item. And, I finished by 4pm and had the whole evening for cooking and personal time.

What’s that? You hate admin work? You thought creatives only created?

Oh. Ohhhh. Let’s chat.

I believe that the most successful creative people you see, at least for the most part, have a really awesome mind for business. Take my BFF Lindsay Adler. If ever you have wanted to meet an insanely creative person who is equally, if not more, savvy in business – you’ve found your girl. Take note. (No, seriously, take notes.)

I’m not that great at it. Not Lindsay Adler great. But, I don’t strive to be. I am extremely motivated in business as well as creativity. I strive for a solid, happy medium between the two.

I get equally excited about a career move or endeavor as I do a photo shoot. And that is, in part, what I attribute any success I’ve had to.

Be it my 24 hour email policy, the contracts I’ve hand-written, the outreach I’ve done for opportunities, or my willingness to fail – I always put myself out there and give my business 100%.

Again, I’m still not the best at it. But I have managed to build a business for 8 solid years that has supported my lifestyle. I’m really proud of that.

Come with me behind the scenes in this video. It’s an in-depth look at my life with the curtain pulled back. What it’s like to go from hour to hour in the life of a working artist.

And please, tell me your top tips for maintaining creativity in your everyday life. I am always looking to improve!

And remember to share:

A – Creativity is your hobby
B – Creativity is your dream career
C – Creativity is your career

Scroll to the bottom of this post to enter a chance to win a
PORTFOLIO REVIEW and a 45 MINUTE MENTORING SESSION!

I’m writing this from a plane traveling from Philadelphia to Phoenix. I’m on my way home after a week in Pennsylvania visiting family and shooting for my new series.

I rented a house that was built in 1723. Falling apart, filled with character, it is a photographer’s dream. Especially in America, where old (truly old) is hard to come by. I had rented this particular house for a couple of workshops years before so I knew it was golden. I called a few days before arriving, agreed on a price, and got to work.

Then I wrestled with what worthwhile meant. How can I experiment if I expect myself to produce?

Expectation is the death of creativity.

This I know. This I have suffered before. And yet, some part of myself could not be quieted. The first day I created physical art with my hands. I prepared for the second day of shooting where I’d have models I didn’t know and limited time to get the finished products. I took test shots. I assessed the light like a good photographer would. I found the space that looked nicest.

And everything felt wrong. I left after a 12-hour day of experimenting feeling like I had taken two steps back. I wasn’t ready. I knew in my bones I wasn’t ready. It felt wrong.

I’ve felt that gut feeling before. One was when I moved to LA and the moment I did, I knew I didn’t want to make films. I felt it again when I was asked to shoot commercially. I knew I shouldn’t. And of course, there have been countless times that were smaller, more insignificant, like this past week, where I felt I was doing the wrong thing.

Everything about the shoot felt wrong – the location, the images. It wasn’t coming from my heart. It was coming from a sort of desperation to be different, to surprise myself, but for what?

And, more than that – I couldn’t! I had been trying so hard to do something different, but at the end of the day, everything I shot looked like it always does. My vision is so singular. That has allowed me a career that grew quickly and successfully, but that limits me when I try to break from it.

I’m being long-winded to make a relatively simple point, but I’m being long-winded because there are so many details that go into an artist’s decisions. Here is the heart of what I want to tell you.

We are artists. Even if you’re reading this and you don’t think so, don’t count yourself out so quickly. It doesn’t matter if you make things with a camera or your hands, music or baking, spreadsheets or daydreams. What matters is that you have the potential to create, and that is enough.

We are artists. And artists, often, are sensitive about their art. We have a hard-enough time as it is being accepted, being understood. We put pressure on ourselves to create. But, we don’t just put pressure on ourselves to create. We put pressure on ourselves to create something brilliant.

When we don’t deliver, we let ourselves down.

And, if you are of the Interneting or networking folk, you let others down.

And, suddenly, we are not just artists, but we are normal people playing as artists. We are frauds. We let ourselves fall down a hole so deep we may never recover.

I say that you are an artist because when you were a child you created without thought or self-consciousness. You created whatever you wanted without a frame of reference for what is good and what is bad. You created because your hands willed it, because your imagination begged you to do it. And then you learned what good art is and what bad art is. You learned what makes money and what doesn’t, what is practical and what is weird. You learned too much and created too little.

Forgive me if my words don’t apply to you. But chances are, they do.

Expectation is the death of creativity.

So, I return to my story about the abandoned mansion and my failed attempt to create art.

Let me correct myself – my SECOND failed attempt at creating art.

I dreamed up this series over a year ago out of necessity. I won’t talk about that necessity now. That is for another time. But I knew I had to make it. And as I started to plan, the gravity of the series become too much to bear. I started to grow heavy under it’s weight. My back bowed.

I created, and I failed.

I created again, and I failed.

I felt I should be something different. I felt I should break away from what I’ve always done.

I was guiding my art with logic, when very little art was ever created out of such a space.

I started to believe that simplicity is a tool for mediocre artists. I believed that grand locations and luscious props would elevate my work to a greater height. And once I climbed that latter and saw those locations and gathered those props, the view wasn’t any good at all.

Artists, let me speak to you directly. This is what I now know, what I have failed two times through six pictures and $3,400. Your instincts never create bad art. Your techniques may falter, your vision may not be clear, but your instinct will guide you to the most authentic art you can create. Authenticity is not the same as realism. Authenticity is not the same as groundbreaking. Let us not confuse innovation for authenticity.

Authenticity is our most basic selves, boiled down to our essence. It cannot manifest in any one visual, in any one concept. It is, simply, the heart of our creations, the feeling of our art. Trust in it. Please, trust in it.

My journey through this series has been disheartening at times. I got on this airplane thinking about my failure, thinking about what I could have done differently. But, I know, in that most authentic place that my art comes from, that this week couldn’t have gone any other way. Some people may think I squandered my money away just to play in a mansion. This could not be farther from the truth. What really happened was an artist decided to experiment, and those experiments showed her what her heart would not say loud enough:

You must travel the long road to learn about the world. You must learn about every thorn that sticks in your foot, every wild wind that chills your bones. You must suffer for your art, because the best things are not easy.

And when you finally begin to create what feels right in your heart, you will experience the joy of that long road. Your art will shine with the depth of it.

We are all on a long road. Some are just beginning, others have been stretching on forever. Our demons come to us in many forms. For some of us it is family, for others it is health, for some it is addiction, heartbreak, jealousy, fear, loneliness, inadequacy. They fill that long road with pain, and through it, we search for our joy. Our art. What we make when no one is looking, what we created when we were children and we had no concept of good or bad. That is the manifestation of ourselves, and it is that self that will pull us from the road when we are too beaten to move ourselves.

This series I am creating is emotional for me. It is a painful one to create for many reasons – some personal, some creative – and it is because of that pain that I am gaining the most incredible insight into my joy.

Even as I write this I am unsure of my worth as an artist. I am unsure of if I will ever create anything worthy of my expectations. And, as I write this, I know that expectation is an illusion we create for ourselves because the world has taught us to do so.

When we were too young we drew a picture and someone told us it was amazing. Or, someone told us it was terrible. Or, someone ignored it and we felt the sting of rejection. And we learned, through positive or negative remarks, what was good and what was bad. And we kept those judgments in our hearts and we put those judgments on ourselves and we struggled to create even though we knew the expectation of the world was on our shoulders.

Or, we didn’t create at all. Because the judgment is too much, and we cannot bear it.

I feel the weight of expectation on me today. I feel it lessening as I write this, because we are all of the same flock. You are my people, and you understand what this is like. You are an artist, after all.

Onward, to the next iteration of my series, and onward, to the next manifestation of my artist soul. May it change forever and gain the courage to create no matter the judgment that accompanies it.

And you know what? I’m excited.

What do you think about expectation & creativity?
How do you deal with the pressure to be creative?

Starting August 1st, I will be offering 10 mentoring spaces per month. This includes a 1-page written portfolio review and a 45-minute mentoring session for a value of $150. I am giving away the first space for the mentoring program today!

To enter, comment below with:

1) Any creative blocks you’ve been facing lately, and…
2) How you think this mentoring session will help you.

Revelation: The thing that surprises me the most about my art is how little I surprise myself.

Terrible revelation, I know. I’m in the process of fixing that. In a few weeks I’ll be locking myself in a house to experimentally create the darkest art I can. And, a few days ago, I challenged myself to stop caring so much about what comes out of my photo shoots. I took my Instax Mini camera out and shot with instant film, experimenting, and trying to woo my past adventurous creative soul out to play.

It worked! I had an incredibly fun time creating with no boundaries, no expectations.

I went into the shoot with no plan, just a vague idea of what could be done with my little orange camera. After a couple of frames, I decided I might try some mixed media. Instead of something shot entirely on that little film camera, I would blend the film into my digital process.

The result is an image that blends film with digital, that got me to think outside the box, and, apart from almost being eaten by fire ants, gave me an unforgettable evening in the desert.

Sometimes adventures aren’t the big kind that take you around the world. Sometimes they happen in our homes or backyards, with the simplest tools. Adventure, for me, is a mindset. It is a willingness to try new things, no matter how small they seem.

An adventurous mindset can bring about enormous change – emotionally, in your art, in your life. I take active steps to see myself as an adventurer; to let myself believe that even these small things, like an instant film shoot in the desert, constitutes adventure. Because, at the end of the day, big adventures might not be within our means. But we can take small steps to broaden our horizons.

Not long ago someone asked me if I get nervous to try new things for the sake of keeping up professional appearances. I thought about it for a while, because at one point, my answer would have been yes. But now my attitude has changed entirely.

I want to dispel any myths surrounding professionalism in art. Yes, we should master our craft and know it intimately, but not at the sacrifice of innovation. I choose to change what professional looks like; instead of always trying to producing something perfect, I’d rather produce a hundred mediocre images in the pursuit of greatness.

What types of art would you mix to create mixed media?
Have you done something experimental this week?

I think that we have an innate desire to put our stamp on things, whether that is as a person, as an artist, or something else. In my years of teaching photography, I’ve never once conducted a workshop in which no one asked how to build a recognizable style. I’ve asked myself that question plenty of times.

It is a beautiful thing to look at someone’s work and know, without looking at the name, who made it. Those are my favorite artists. Their essence is in their art. It feels like a natural shine.

As an artist, I have thought about this topic for years. What makes someone stand out as being original? What makes someone’s work recognizable? What makes mine?

Here’s the truest answer. More true than any technique in Photoshop or lens choice.

If you don’t like that answer, you’re not going to find what you’re looking for. If you’re looking for a certain technique to set you apart, stop.

Yes, they help tremendously. Yes, they can make you stand out. Yes, they are the medium that us visual artists exist in.

BUT, and I believe this firmly, there isn’t a successful artist out there who doesn’t have their art in their bones.

If you gave your favorite artist a guitar instead of a camera, it’s very likely that their original music would match their original images.

What we want our art to look like is in us from the beginning. From Day 0.

My art is not just what it looks like or feels like. It is the culmination of who I am – visually, emotionally, experiences and reactions and decisions combined. It is my expression of myself.

That is not to say that finding a style is instant. Why? Because we hardly know ourselves. The more we understand who we are, the more fluidly our style can evolve.

At least that’s what I believe. And I really, really believe it.

There are certain visual ways that my style has evolved. I used to create very monochromatic images, almost always indoors. I shifted from that to incorporating more color in my wardrobe and visiting new locations outdoors. I then started to get into more complicated composites, more detailed sets, more props. I evolved. And I am evolving.

If I had to choose 3 visual cues to my signature style, I would say:

Square Format
Yellow highlights/blue shadows
Painterly

There are more:

Feminine
Dark
Cinematic

It’s hard to define a style with just a few words, and not entirely productive, either. We shouldn’t feel trapped by a style, but able and willing to move in and out of it.

I used to fear my style. I felt stuck in it. But now I recognize that my style is mine because that is what naturally comes out of me. No matter what I pursue, it will be mine.

I hope you enjoy this video detailing how I found my style and a few different tricks in the editing room to achieve a polish to my work.

How do you describe your style?
How do you hope to evolve?

I have been teaching for 8 years now, and I remember my first workshop like it was yesterday.

I used to shoot in this old warehouse. Half of it was still being used for some sort of materials company. I waltzed in one day and asked the owner if I could take pictures in the back of his shop. He said yes, and so a wonderful collaboration was born. I took pictures there countless times, even brought a dance crew there to photograph them…

And then, when I decided to host my first workshop (planning commenced in June 2010) I asked him if I could bring my workshop group there.

HUGE liabilities aside (it being a decrepit warehouse), he said yes, I announced my workshop, and it remains one of the neatest locations I’ve ever used.

I remember carefully planning out every single minute of the day. I remember feeling extremely confident in my curriculum. I remember freaking the heck out over my organization skills, if anyone would show up, and if they would find it valuable. I charged $200 a person and we did everything from inspiration exercises to shooting to editing.

My workshop structure has changed little since that first one. I spent hours upon hours planning it out and it worked.

I’ve been fortunate enough to teach at major conventions, go around the world with these workshops, and prattle about at Creative Live (it was an honor to teach their first fine art class).

You have trusted me, given me so much love, too many hugs to begin counting, friendships made, and experiences that have filled my 20s with so much appreciation. I’ve visited 21 countries on hundreds of trips. It has been out of this world.

Why give it up?

The answer isn’t what you may think.

On one hand, it is. I need to stop traveling so much. I need a break. I need to be home. I’m homesick even when I’m home because I know it’s just a week until my next trip.

But on the other hand, it is something very different that took a lot of growing up to realize.

When you teach your craft, you learn your craft intimately. It was the best decision I could have made to really, truly understand what I’m doing, and why. Nothing else compares, not hours of shooting or editing. It’s repeating that information in a digestible way that allowed me to understand my craft as well as I do. And how well I understand my craft, which I daresay is extremely well, is why I’m leaving teaching behind for now.

I’m in a new period of creative exploration. The baby stages. I don’t know what I’m doing yet. I explore it every single day. I’m not ready to teach it because I’m just getting to know it.

It’s like we’re getting tea for the first time, awkwardly not knowing if we should shake hands or hug, and we’re making small talk.

Some big conversations are coming on soon.

After that, I’ll be ready.

I’ll be ready to teach my new craft. I don’t know if it will be massively different or the same. I anticipate teaching writing workshops as well, something that, in more ways than you’ll understand, fulfills my childhood dreams.

But for now, I wait.

I don’t know if this break from teaching will last 2 months or 2 years. All I can say is that I am grateful beyond belief for your support thus far, for letting me guide you into the deepest realms of creativity, and for standing by me as I pursued this path.

I’ll continue on with my blog posts and videos, of course. But as for in-person education – that will have to wait until I’ve met my creativity, stared it in the face, and learned every wrinkle inside and out.

If you’ve been to a workshop, please comment below and let me know where we met!

(And maybe even your experience!)

If you’ve been to a class of mine, even if it was online, this is what I want you to know about me: I give everything. I am not someone who fears. I am someone who gives because I would rather see people uplifted and empowered rather than held back by knowledge that I could give but do not because I am afraid. I do not say that in vanity, I say it because it is a trait that I hold in high esteem and because I have built my life on that foundation. For my many, many flaws, this is where I hold my head high.

Teaching has taught me the kind of person I want to be. It is not someone who holds secrets close and guarded; it is someone who shares openly, with a heart like a sponge, who listens and aids and feels deeply. Thank you for letting me do this. It is an honor for which I cannot properly express my gratitude.

Want to take a class from me? While I am on hiatus from in-person education, I have classes on Creative Live that are extremely comprehensive and fulfilling: