Playing with flow and fluidity
On trusting your calling enough to dive into the unknown
Hello,
I was just editing an essay that is coming to you later this week about my creation residency at the Musée national des beaux-arts du Québec, when I realized I should probably write a note to you now because I’m hosting the third workshop in my Slow Looking series THIS SATURDAY…
…and I haven’t told you about it yet.
(Oops!)
So, this is me telling you that you are cordially invited to an online retreat about Looking at Water this Saturday (June 27).
For one hour, we’ll gather together to look at water in art, play with flow and fluidity, and turn that same attention toward our own inner currents. You’ll leave ready to see your daily life with fresh eyes.
💦 Paid subscribers get free access to this workshop (with the code here)
💦 If cost is an issue, reach out here for a comped seat
People keep telling me that these gatherings meet a need they didn’t even know they had.
There’s something about consecrating time for engaging with a deeper sort of attention that can really fill up your cup (insert water pun). And there’s this felt sense of togetherness—even in a Zoom room—that makes the experience all the more delicious.
Facilitating these monthly workshops is quickly becoming one of my biggest sources of joy in my work.
But wait, there’s more I haven’t told you about yet!
(Oops.)
When I picked June’s slow looking theme, I decided that I would offer weekly “Attention Invitations” with prompts to inspire your own investigations with playing with new ways of paying attention to water.
So every week this month, I have posted an Attention Invitation (AI) prompt in this newsletter’s chat channel. I’ve also been taking these prompts to the stream in my forest and sharing my findings on Instagram and Facebook (insert streaming pun).
Here are June’s water prompts:
Immersion, Flow, Glimmers, Changing States
As I move further into the post-PhD chapter of my life, I feel a strong pull to experiment with different ways of fostering community around expansive and embodied attention practices. Access to these kinds of spaces can be life-giving (and sometimes life-saving), especially in times such as these.
This is something good I can offer.
So I’m putting things out into the world—both online and in museum spaces—but sometimes it’s hard to know how (or if) they are landing in actual human bodies. This lack of Strategic Plan is further compounded by functional limitations stemming from what I am coming to recognize as PhD-induced injuries (cf publishing an event registration page without telling anyone about it).
Usually this kind of ambiguity would stop me in my tracks, waiting until I have a stronger sense that all this effort is actually moving somewhere. And yet somehow this time, I’m charging forward anyway, hands full of my imperfect offerings.
This is a calling I trust enough to take the leap into the unknown.
If you can think of any areas where this kind of work could be of service to you or a community you are part of, please let me know. I would be so grateful to have ideation / dreaming support.
So, in summary:
Looking at Water this Saturday (or later via recording) — Come!
Weekly Attention Invitation (AI) prompts — Discover!
Ideas of ways I could be of service — Share!
And now, I’m going to break all the rules of emails by adding yet another call to action.
(Oops!)
I have a favor to ask: Could you help me spread the word about this event that is happening very, very soon?
Here are some easy ways to help:
Forward this newsletter (or text the event info) to a friend who could use some slow lookin’
Give my posts about the event on Instagram and/or Facebook some lovin’
Like & restack this post here on Substack
Leave a comment (creative prompt: tell us about your favorite body of water)
Thanks for everything. What a gift to be on this ride with you.
Wishing you flow,
