Half Retreat - Women & Art

What I learned this past weekend . . .

Art is meant to share
Creativity is contagious
Laughter purges the soul
Heart talks are healing
Tears are cleansing
Sleep is overrated
Meals are not about nutrition, they are about fellowship
The smell of mod podge, paint and staz-on are perfume
and especially . . . 
the love of a friend is a precious gift!

The birth of "Half Retreat" was a spinoff of my friend Sandi's very special dream: "Secret Lake Retreat." After 4 amazing days with 5 women armed with stacks of paper, two sewing machines, a bucket of paintbrushes, an assortment of paint, dyes, sprays and GESSO - we decided that once a year was not enough. And so the birth of "Half Retreat" was born--a little respite halfway through the year!  And it was just what we all needed;  there is nothing to compare to being in the bosom of your friends who have a way of knowing just what you need.  So for three nights and four days we laughed, we created, we played, we talked, we cried and we just were . . . I am safe with these women.  No judgment. No criticism. No accountability.  Just unconditional love and acceptance.  I've decide that God gave us girlfriends so we would have someone who could understand our needs and our hurts and our loves and have compassion for us because we've all been there.  Can I just say that I love these women?  I do.

(And a huge thank you to Roben-Marie for her amazing photo collage . . . she really captured the essence of our experience!)

A Dream Deferred . . .

I came upon the poem by Langston Hughes today. I don't think I have heard it since high school but this evening, I realize what he meant when he describes unfulfilled goals,

"Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?"

We may think our dreams die and just wither away but they don't. They linger out there . . . calling, taunting. Almost within our reach but never quite close enough to take hold of. But I will not be sorrowful over things I never had, I will be grateful that at least I had a dream.