Category: Ginger’s Musings

Social media teaches us to be passive. To feel like we’re doing something by reading, liking, commenting, and making comments. It’s very easy to get into the mindset that the best way to learn something is to do a search or ask a question on a group. (And don’t get me wrong…asking those who have more experience is a fantastic way to find answers.) But it’s all to common for someone to pick up their phone to ask a question rather than pick up the clay and try it yourself. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve read a question on a Facebook group where I got up, went to my studio, tried it, and came back to post an answer. We learn by doing. Even if we’re just “farting around” without the intention of making anything specific, we’re still learning. What happens when I do this, or that? There doesn’t have to be a goal. You don’t even have to make a finished piece. But through experimentation, you learn how the materials work, how the clay behaves, and how to move your hands. That’s invaluable experience that will help you make the next thing that you DO want to make! When you try stuff, you learn what works AND you learn what doesn’t work. Try it! What are some of the outlandish that you have tried? What did you learn? What have you learned NOT to do? Tell us about it!

I just got back from a few days away. I had a lot of conversations with strangers and one thing struck me about mindset. Just as there are optimists and pessimists, I realized there are also mindsets about possibility. Some of us default to thinking about what limits us. And others of us default to thinking about what’s possible. Some of us look for a set of rules or constraints to work within, looking for the edges and side rails of life, letting them determine where we go. Like a highway at night, the lines keep us safe and get us where we are heading. Lines are good, especially when the stakes are high (such as having a car full of precious people driving at 70mph down a busy highway). But not everything requires this rigid mindset. Sometimes the goal is to wander and explore. In that case, the rules and guidelines will keep you small. Nobody ever found the peace of a secret hideaway in the woods by staying on the paved roads of life. (Speaking metaphorically here!) I think it’s important that we don’t become too invested in what we CAN’T do. Those limitations are a hollow comfort that gives us an excuse to stay small, safe, and expected. Of course, there is a time and place for everything. But generally, in my observation, at least in our art, most of us err on the side of comfort and safety. We are far too concerned about the limits.

​​When I picked up my grocery order from Walmart last week, the worker handed me a small shopping bag, branded with the Walmart logo, and wished me a good day. Samples are always fun and everyone loves a bargain, so I happily thanked him and drove home with a bit of anticipation about the treats I was going to find. The reality was less than satisfying. There was a small snack pack of breakfast cereal. A packet of two Oreo cookies. A single gummy vitamin in a plastic packet. And several cards (not even coupons), each wrapped in plastic, advertising several brands of novelty flavored liquor. I sorted the contents into recyclable piles, finally disgusted that the bag, itself, was entirely plastic and consequently half-filled my kitchen trash bin. I was left feeling disappointed and a bit used. They had essentially given me a pile of trash that I now had to take my time to discard. There was no value here. Perhaps the worst side effect of social media is the endless stream of content that bombards us. Inundates us. Content is the equivalent of the sample bag from Walmart. It takes up our time, grabs our attention, and its sole purpose is to wave in front of our faces saying, “Look at me! Here I am! See my brand!” Content is inherently manipulative. It exists to persuade. To leave an impression. To convince. Either to convince an audience or to feed the algorithm so that your channel doesn’t

A parable from priest and therapist Anthony de Mello on the stories we tell ourselves: “A man found an eagle’s egg and put it in a nest of a barnyard hen. The eaglet hatched with the brood of chickens and grew up with them. All his life the eagle did what the barnyard chicks did, thinking he was a barnyard chicken. He scratched the earth for worms and insects. He clucked and cackled. And he would thrash his wings and fly a few feet into the air. Years passed and the eagle grew very old. One day he saw a magnificent bird above him in the cloudless sky. It glided in graceful majesty among the powerful wind currents, with scarcely a beat of its strong golden wings. The old eagle looked up in awe. “Who’s that?” he asked. “That’s the eagle, the king of the birds,” said his neighbor. “He belongs to the sky. We belong to the earth—we’re chickens.” So the eagle lived and died a chicken, for that’s what he thought he was.” Source: Song of the Bird​ I’ve heard different versions of this same parable over the years. It’s always a story where the main character doesn’t realize his true potential (or is afraid to embrace it) and he dies without ever knowing what he could have been. Different from the Ugly Duckling story, which is about transformation, this story is about never questioning the reality that you believe about yourself. About who you are. Way too

In my newsletter this week, I wrote: “Are you holding back until you’re “good enough”? Do you avoid taking risks because you’re not a “real artist”? Where does that come from? You do not need anyone’s permission to be fabulous! You don’t need a license to create.” I thought I’d expand a bit on that. It’s very easy for us to be quite concerned with what “they” think is appropriate. It goes back to the idea that Og and Zog our caveman ancestors needed to be part of the tribe and that violating group norms meant being cast out of the tribe, which was certain death in that setting. We are hard-wired to be very concerned with what the group will allow us to do. Tribes value and reward members who are reliable and can do certain things well. Knowing how to make bear stew is a good skill. It’s valued. But the wise guy who decided to add mushrooms to the pot got everyone sick and people in the tribe died. So people learn very quickly that getting creative is RISKY. But even in primitive tribes, there are people with specialized knowledge. Nobody doubts that the medicine man knows which mushrooms to use. That’s because it’s assumed that he’s an expert who has been trained. And are you aware that even now, our culture “believes” that “real artists” are properly trained and know what they’re doing and so they have what I suppose you could call a “license to

What is the difference between your voice and your style? To an extent, they’re the same thing. Your voice helps you find a style that you’re comfortable with. But I think there are some differences. Your voice comes from within you and it’s as individual as you are. It’s your inner weird. It’s the part of you that at 5 years old you knew what you liked. Voice doesn’t so much change over time as it deepens and becomes richer. More substantial and defined. Because your voice evolves, revealing itself, it’s quite difficult to encapsulate and describe. It’s like describing who you are…how could you ever put that into words? Style, on the other hand, comes from others. It’s the cultural grouping of ideas, images, looks. It can come out as a trend, or perhaps something even more timeless. Styles are certainly multifaceted, but they can be explained and described. You will only have one voice in your life (it’s you). But you will find yourself drawn to many styles. I might say that your voice determines which styles you want to wear. Maybe it’s more like clothing. A voice is your personality. Your individual you-ness. It’s as much a part of you as your handwriting or the way you walk. But style is like clothes. You put them on and take them off. You wear what you’re in the mood for. Then you do something else. Have you ever been listening to music and realized that you recognized another