Shake It Up


Finishing school, no matter what stage of the game, forces us to move on, to shake things up, to step out of what’s become familiar and comfortable into the unknown. 

It’s a time when fears are on the surface: 

  • What if I don’t like doing the thing I’ve invested so much time and money into?

  • Who’ll be my new community and what if I don’t make any good friends?

  • What does fully relying on myself look like?

  • Etc., etc.

I’ve been out of formal school of a good chunk of years, 16 almost exactly.
Some of those fears are the same, some have fallen away. But what I’m currently appreciating is that forced shake up and departure that is inevitable with school.

What a gift that can be!
(To experience the arc of unfamiliar to more familiar or uncomfortable to more comfortable.)

I’ve been in the same fantastic studio space for over 10 years. (Part of my studio is in the pictures above.) I’ve settled in. It’s been positive and yet, I’m wondering:

What’s possible in a fresh setting?

For me, time shapeshifts, choices are made more consciously, more obviously.
Stagnant or complacent patterns that have firmed themselves in place with deep grooves have the opportunity to break up.

What are the signs of when much needed flow becomes mindless complacency? 
When is it a good time to shake things up? Make major changes? Small ones? 
Answers are being noted. For the moment, I’m shaking things up in small ways. 


An example, my husband Jonathan recently got the van pictured above for work but also adventure. It’s been an immediate shift in our mental space. It was clear that we were craving getting out more, being in nature, not knowing where the evening or day would take us, always having a place to close our eyes. 

When the weekend came and it was time to go for a drive as planned, both of us were feeling bogged down with various writing tasks/ responsibilities that were on our plate. A catch 22.

Couldn’t go. Shouldn’t go. Have to get things done in the studio. That’s what it felt like, yet at the same time we needed a break, and staying wouldn’t mean we’d have a clear mind to focus. So we decided to pack our computers and notebooks and write in the van, or at a coffeeshop. Which is what happened. Writing in the van while the slider is open up to a view of the ocean, only sound we hear are the crashing waves. (Might I note that it wasn’t hot and sunny, so the van was also great protection from the wind.)

It was a compromise, and a small but significant choice to shake it up a little.
A shift from getting so tied to my studio, my things, or that I need to be solo and absolutely have to have specific tools and equipment to do my work. 

These mindsets have deep grooves and they hold some truths, yet I’m beginning to ask myself:
How can I set myself up to make in a more mobile way out of the van?!
Can I get into the mindset, excitement, curiosity of what would I make out of that ‘studio’?

I look forward to finding out.

What kind of shifts are happening in your world? Leave a comment, I’d love to hear.