Art Adventures - a new way to Retreat.

After 12 years running creative retreats at healingartjourneys.com, then a sabbatical pause, the new  retreats have arrived as naturally as spring following winter.

The Retreats will now be Art Adventures for groups of  up to 4.

3 Retreats will be for solo adventurers.

Why the change?

An Art Adventure Retreat is a sure way to break down limiting ideas and transform old patterns to find exciting new ways to develop your creative potential.

The object of a retreat is usually to take time out to re-connect with our non busy self.  To get clarity about what matters most to us. To allow ourselves space and time to play with life changing ideas .

A guided Art Adventure Retreat offers a wake up, shake up call to start being creative in a brand new way.

Are you sick of being stuck in a rut? Tired of making the same kind of art, bored taking the same kind of photos, disheartened  by writing in the same 'style.'

During an Art Adventure Retreat you will discover new creative skills, experience a new sense of self, and have fun in the process!.

'What you risk reveals what you value.'

Jeanette Winterson.

What actually happens at an Art Adventure Retreat ?

Art Adventures Retreats in Andalucia Spain include guidance, encouragement, exploring nature, creating ceremony, resourcing ancient wisdom, video making, paper arts, walking, picnics, swimming in a salt water pool, star gazing, visiting a high mountain village market, storytelling, sacred and folk music, wonderful organic food, and much more.
  

You will be waking up your 6^th sense. 

Stepping closer to that person you’d love to be. Crossing thresholds. 

Deepening your spiritual connection.

Learning to trust your intuitive voice. Having fun. Sleeping well.  Possibly finding new tribe members.

Stay in a beautiful wooden yurt  or a charming casita ( cottage) in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada mountains near Granada .

Adventures Retreats are led by Meg Robinson, artist writer explorer stage 4 cancer thriver.

  

Meg has a team of highly skilled professional helpers who will be involved in some of the retreats - musicians - storytellers - masseurs- chefs. 

Art Adventure Retreats 2020 in April May June September October November. 

Dates and prices on request.

Group  Retreats - max 4 people.

1. Art Adventure Retreat for stuck in the mud painters, 
tired of their genre photographers, and writers yearning for new inspiration.

Surprise and delight yourself by doing everything familiar differently.
Rediscover the joy and awe of seeing.

  2. A more studio based adventure exploring fun art techniques using acrylics,                      encaustic, gelatin based printmaking, drawing with found objects, playing           with alcohol  inks and much more.  

All levels welcome.

    3. Appreciating Spain's Golden Age: an Interfaith Retreat including making simple sacred art, Sephardic and Sufi music , story telling, a celebration of interfaith .
 Learning from each other’s beliefs traditions and customs.  For anybody loving the metaphysical.  A real, delightful spiritual recharge. 

Individual Retreats.

1.Unblocking what's keeping you small, allowing ideas for a fulfilling creative life to manifest.  Delicious organic food.  Befriend your most creative self and tame your inner critic thought art play, music and time in nature.

Not mainstream art therapy, but highly therapeutic

2.Outdoor art. Healing an old wound through art in nature, ceremony, creating simple riverside installations, tree drawing, picnics, music, storytelling. 
An individual ‘Shamanic’ retreat. No previous art experience required.

3. Creating Art as a Spiritual Practice, a path of devotion. 

                       Email Meg for more details at megrobinson@yahoo.com 

More info on the retreats page of www.megrobinsonart.com

A Shtetl Love Song

Possibly more than any other book ever, Jewish  Grigoty Kanovich's story of his family in Jonova Lithuania - starting ten years before the outbreak of WW11 - is speaking to me so vividly, it's almost like being a fly on the wall in somebody's house. 

Some of these people could actually be my relations. 

Jonova, pronounced Yonova, is just 20 kms down the road from the farm where I’m staying for a week!

Jonova house revisited in 219.

Shtlel Love Song is a book of 521 pages.  I'm now on page 449. The Russians have taken over the town. It's 1940. I can hardly bear to read what happens next. But I do.

I came here to make a pilgrimage to honour my never  met Jewish ancestors.

Then, when that felt complete, day by day as I learned of the countries relatively recent horrific history, I began to realise it was not just the Jews who’d suffered terribly.

The stories I've heard were from priests, nuns, Jews living here and in Moscow and Palestine.  Hotel receptionists, cafe owners, a Russian pharmacist,  a Lithuanian photographer turned organic farmer. All paint a picture of a country that has been reinventing itself over the last  24 years. 

Yes.  I became a researcher.  An investigator of  what lies behind what we see. As you have have guessed, I love to hear other  people's stories.

350.000 Lithuanians were exiled to Siberia to ‘work for’ the Soviet's. They lived in atrocious conditions.  

So far, I have met and talked to two survivors.  Both are in their late 80’s.

As late as 1985,  anti-communist university students were also sent to Siberia. Most have not returned.

Dream Ask Believe Receive - Discovering Estonia.

Oh how can it be six months since I spoke to y'all ?

Mil disculpas.

A million apologies.

After considerable dreaming researching asking and believing the summer would  be creative and  fabulous, I left Spain for Lithuania and Estonia on July 6th.  I had a half made plan. There were many loose ends. 

But, I was truly ready to receive, and I did, far more than I could ever have imagined.

 Of course there were many, many, many surprises.

Christmas is now just six weeks away. 2020 is nearly here.  

Madre mia ! 

How did four months pass so quickly?

The old and new in Vilnius Lithuania.

Lots of delicious food including burckwheat  quinoa and beetroot.

Lots of fabulous bread.

The most delicious rye bread ever.

These summer months  have been all about up- rooting, re routing and reinventing my inner artist, and other bits of me too it seems. I didn't ask for this, but it happened.

By the end of August I'd decided I was a visual story teller.  No longer an artist who has solo or group exhibitions .  

The viewer is invited to find their own story in whatever they see in my art - in the colors - the figures - the symbols - in the story behind the story

  

This summer's colors were all about copper, burnt sienna, gold, black and a little turquoise. About spray paint. Paper cutting. Lino printing ( not too successful but exciting), and drawing with a white acrylic pen.

So, just as my Jewish ancestors had traveled for generations, I ventured out into the unknown, hoping to find something I couldn't quite name.  

A  house near Kaunas

A village house in Jonova, a one time a thriving Jewish community.

I forget where this was !

The summer started with losing my iPad in Malaga airport.  As a result, I met three (human) angels. One German, one Lithuanian, one Moroccan.

Daily adventures followed, many involved getting lost and making new friends.

  

The sun shone.  It rained frequently. I ate lots of nuts, loved the beetroot soup, and cooked buckwheat porridge like a local.

When I arrived at Malaga airport, I wanted to get right back on the next plane to Tallinn. The urge was huge! But my friend was waiting for me, so I didn't.

Who knows what I'd be writing tonight if I had?  Probably something about the lovely man I wanted to go back to hug. 

Actually there were two lovely men.  How could I forget ?

 Next summer. The whispering voice is loud. Go back next summer.  Just do it it , we'll work out the details. 

The details certainly took their own time and course to unfold this summer.  

Every door that wouldn't open led to something infinitely more interesting than anything I could ever have imagined.

I love sharing my life and art with y'all.  Thank you Ana in the US and everybody else for checking in. I'd love if you'd leave a comment and say where you live.

So, the update.

From May to September, Estonia dominated my thoughts.

My dear friend Ken made my new art website. He did all the techi bits and being an artist photographer/ mountaineer, he added many great ideas. I needed the  new website to apply for artists residencies. 

Then on the 6th of July the Big Baltic Adventure began.  

I flew from Spain  to Lithuania, stayed two weeks,  then flew over Latvia and  landed in Estonia.

Finland was also a possible stopping place as well as the Baltic islands off the Estonian coast. 

So many ideas were floating inside my head because plan A - a months residency at Nida  Art Colony in Lithuania -  didn't happen.  89 artists applied for the 19 places.

I said a silent sorry to Greta and the Planet for not traveling by train and bus. I could have, all the  way from Spain.  But my right leg developed sciatica, so buses were definitely not going to be possible.

Lots of street art in Kaunas.

Kindness, and beauty colored every single day. 

Naturally there were also a few heart stopping moments too, but they got less as the weeks unfolded.

With the iPad lost, having to reply on my new smart phone was like learning a new language. Embarrassing at times.  Easy when you understand with a little help from a new friend..

In Vilnius, I stayed in a beautiful art and book filled historic house where 4 generations of artists had lived.

The surviving family members were granddaughter Bea (40 something), a super talented graphic designer.  Delightfully stylish, Bea , with her beloved dog, seemed to be always rushing somewhere. 

Eva, her mother, was my age.  Eva did not rush.  A  serious quiet intellectual, I soon discovered  she  was a hugely gifted photographer and painter. 

Mother and daughter are now are guardians of this house, the surviving witnesses of a family who loved each other.

In Eva, I sensed a haunting wordless sadness that somehow, in different circumstances, I have also known. But mine is now archived, albeit chaotically.

Graceful, slim, exquisitely dressed in dark slightly Japanese styled clothes, always with interesting silver jewelry close to her throat, Eva spoke quietly in her hesitant English. I sensed the legacy of the cruel denial of creative freedom the Soviet regime had imposed on her, and her family. I also sensed art has been her salvation.

The horror, terror and fear of deportations to Siberia that Lithuanian artists and intellectuals endured,  has no parallel in my life.

Yet on her kitchen table sat something I've longed for since I was 17.

I've said many times I would give anything to have a photograph of my never known Jewish Lithuanian father.

And there was hers, on the kitchen table. A beautiful intelligent face, framed, with a candle on either side.

There he sat, sharing her every single meal.  

There he'd dined all his life.   
He'd opened these doors.  
Climbed these stairs.  
Celebrated her every birthday  until he died. 
What presents had he bought or made for her?

On some level, I think I kind of pretended he was mine for the week. I borrowed him. I loved him.

In Vilnius I started to walk. I had to to get my food.  During the two months in the Baltic I walked over 350km.  I got super fit!

When the plane landed in Tallinn all I knew about the capital city was the Eurovision song contest had been held there many years ago !  

Google tells me it was 2002. 

I had a rapid learning experience.

At the friendly Holy Spirit Guest house beside the cathedral (an expensive Airbnb in need of a little bit of modernizing),  I met choir singer Carel. Wow.  Did I hit the jackpot.

 Australian/Estonian, she  gave me the countries history, geography, politics, culture, the music scene, and where the nearest food store was, all in a few hours.  She  hardly drew breath, fired by boundless enthusiasm and love for the land of her ancestors.

After lots of research of the Baltic coast and it's many islands, I'd already decided to visit the coastal town of Haapsalu for 10 days.  

A festival of medieval music in the castle coincided perfectly with my dates. The pull to go to this  town was incredibly strong.

Little did I know some heart melting and art inspiring experiences were waiting there to be claimed. Is that the right word? Claimed ?

'Haapsalu.' Good choice said Carel.  'Vormsi island is close by.'   

I could  easily visit it she said.  I did.

Very hard to get a good pic of the boat.

Then I'd be heading for Tartu, where lucky for me, I'd be having a months artists residency in a Paper and Print museum.  

The only thing was I couldn't  find anywhere to stay in or near Taru.  Everywhere was charging high summer prices. I had ten days to find a home.

   

Carel came up with an idea.  Somewhat stressed, I booked the suggested expensive student room at the Uni, only to hear the same day the museum had found me a lovely small apartment for the same price. Bingo. Bodes well I thought.

Tartu was described as a medieval university town.  Anything medieval sparks my interest..

Little did I know I was in for a very big shock on day 1.

Medieval Tartu.

Little did I know I was in for a  wonderful surprise in Haapsalu just a day after meeting Carel.

This was my last day in Tartu, visiting Farenheit 451.

It's a fascinating small Independent  book store close to the museum.

Thank you Miriam Roser Stella Kaisa and Charlotte for your friendship and help.

 Thank you all at the museum  for the wonderful goodbye barbecue.

Thank you Lemmit for this unforgettable experience..

www.megrobinsonart.com

Chicken love and other life lessons.

Ambient sounds she said.  Add ambient sounds to your animations.

So I sat outside my gate this evening and watched the sun set, enjoying  the exquisite ambient sounds all around, especially the happy blackbird in the old walnut tree right above me. I had my first lesson in animation this evening.

Will you email me your little demo I asked my extremely talented teacher?  She paused. I know you she said,  you'll want to put it on Facebook.  Humm!  I'll need to edit it she decided. We laughed.

 Actually I was thinking of sharing it here, but I haven't succeeded.

Pinterest pic.

I've been given homework. Approximately 62 drawings and some recordings of  ambient sounds for next week. That's fine. That's the nature of animation, masses of drawings with small changes. The little film will last 20 seconds ! I've wanted to make animated films all my life.

In the next blog you'll see the outcome.  In the meantime, here's the reason I've been quiet for the last however many weeks - drum roll - introducing my brand new website.

 http://www.megrobinsonart.com

Back to the present moment.  Adventures in Andalucia.. Living with chickens (and foxes).

Yesterday at 11am, tiny 87 year old neighbor Louisa was on the other side of the fence, mostly hidden by the jasmin bush. She witness the whole happening. She doesn't miss a thing. Her memory is better than mine. She loves my chickens. She's chicken savvy. She pokes little bits of cut up lettuce though the fence for them every morning.

Louisa's stoical about the dog bite that happened on Saturday.  Her 60 year old daughter cried when she told me  the story. The bandage on her left leg is pristine white. She's wonderfully cared for.

Yesterday's chicken story, for sure, will now be the latest news around the village.   

Village news, Louisa’s version:  

Madre mia ! Margarita’s hen flew over the fence and perched on her shoulder. Dios mio she didn’t want to get down!  No puedo creerlo ! They gazed into each others eyes. Margarita started talking to her.  It looked like the hen  was listening and  telling her something too ! Madre mia de mi vida, nunca, jamas he visto algo asi ! 

 My version : The characterful speckled hen flew 4 feet onto the wire fence.  She wobbled there (as if on a tightrope), then cautiously walked onto my outstretched arm. She’s done this once before. From there she hopped onto my shoulder and gazed into my eyes. Some strange but friendly noises continued for some time. We communicated mutual awe!  

She didn’t want to fly down. I had to shake her off. 

This is the same hen who nearly got eaten by the fox and the two dogs a few weeks ago, but survived. Her name is Dotti Malaika.

I have never, ever seen anything like this in my whole life said elderly Louisa.  We both laughed a lot.  I had never ever heard her laugh before. 

More about this incredible little hen soon !

Beyond words

I've spent a week writing  my new Artists Statement.  Here's the background.

It's been hard because I've always felt art is beyond words.

I  have themes and colors which change over the years.  The driving energy which comes into each drawing arrives of its own accord.
 I just have to 'clear a space' (remove all distractions) and allow it to flow.

My hope is you'll find something of your own fascinating life story in my drawings and paintings. Something uplifting. Something revealing.  Something healing.

How did it all start?

Many teachers say that what we loved to do as a child colors almost everything in later life. And if we ignore these first passions, well...burnout  depression and serious disappointment can take root.

I started drawing aged three, and have hardly stopped ever since.

In the first small 'autobiographical' wax crayon drawings, I’m a smiling little nurse in a Scottish hospital  ward, surrounded by sick ladies glued to their beds.  Many of these patients  were ladies of the night. Yes, it was the STD ward.  Pre aids and just after penicillin became available, these ladies at least had a  chance to survive. I was taken to visit the ward every Sunday by my 'mother' their doctor. and  their lay preacher.

Adopted by two pioneering women doctors, I was told to be proud of my ‘half’ Jewish heritage. The other half of me is Irish Dutch.

My recent  art has unfolded  in ‘chapters.’

*Nomadic years - paintings from Alaska, New Mexico, Bolivia , Peru, Spain. 1998- 2014

*Expressive arts images - healing cancer 2015 -2017.

*Belalcázar  Monastery – drawings inspired by research into  Spain’s Golden Age -1492, -Sephardic  Jewish ancestors. 2016- 2018.

*Jewish ancestors - drawing and digital images inspired by discovering long lost Lithuanian grandparents. 2018 – .

 

*Sketches and life drawings 1998 – 2019.

My art is serious and I guess I am too, but humour and playfulness always have a way of  slipping into my life. Thank  God !

My new digital drawings are all about playing with line and colour. Using these techniques I’ve come to understand, use, and share extraordinary healing aspects of art.

In drawing, I usually start by mark making.  Then quickly, inevitably, create chaos.  Gradually and mindfully, I find ways to access that energy which doesn’t care about the outcome of the image.

Sacred  world  music helps this happen, especially the voice of Hildegard Von Bingen. 

In 1996, I deleted the words good bad should and ought from my vocabulary.

My life instantly changed for the better. How?

My 6th sense kind of got activated.  My intuition became super strong and synchronicities started appearing everywhere.

In 2006 I started to write a travel memoir -Drawn by a Star - it was  based on my second visit to Patagonia.

'Drawn by a Star' seems to sum up this mysterious energy. It's  a voiceless voices which guides my every move. It's a voice I cannot ever argue with.

Oftentimes the drawing/painting chaos lasts days or weeks or months.

Then suddenly, something amazing happens.  Characters appear -  timeless stories emerge.

People say they see aspects of themselves in my drawings -  parts they don’t usually notice or talk to.

Rafael, The Fauves , Egon Schiele ,Toulouse Lautrec and Scottish  friend the late John Bellamy’s drawings were early inspirations.

I spent 6 years passionately studying art.  First at St Martin’s Art School in London then at Edinburgh  College Art College.

22 years ago equally passionately, I began the process of unlearning.

“There is no discovery without risk and what you risk reveals what you value.”   Jeanette Winterson