While preparing for my upcoming membership course, I dipped into one of my most favorite books on drawing. I am so fond of this artist author and his teaching that I'm reprinting a post I published about him in 2010, from my Drawing America work. Enjoy!

Eric Sloane
1905 – 1985

"As far back as the early 1700s, many American artists began their careers as sign painters and I can see why. The pleasure of creating a piece of work necessary to the buyer is a satisfaction beyond that of the artisan who paints merely to decorate. Some of America's finest and most prized examples of folk art are antique trade signs and inn signs. The signs I painted on midwest restaurant windows, even on hotel rest room doors, probably gave me more artistic satisfaction than anything I might have accomplished in art schools. I still letter freehand as easily as I write script and still have profound reverence for classic lettering." --Eric Sloane

Sign painter, muralist, prolific author, illustrator, teacher, painter, meteorologist, Eric Sloane began life as Everard Jean Hinrichs in 1905. After his mother died, young Everard launched a string of runaway attempts until his father finally gave him the family Packard Roadster and twenty dollars. That car and twenty dollars got him as far as Ohio where he "set out on foot as an itinerant boy painter." Not much later, he'd earned enough to buy another car and broadened his prospects.

"Henry Ford had not yet invented the glove compartment, but I shared the seat of a Model T with a traveling office of paper and pencils, a dictionary, and sketching equipment." —Eric Sloane

After a stint in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, with his own sign business, he changed his name.

"When I left Lancaster to wend my way afoot toward the west, I decided to create a new nom de plume and chose the name of my teacher [John Sloan] but added an e to the name of Sloan. I knocked off the first and last two letters of American, which left eric and headed westward as Eric Sloane." —Eric Sloane

Traveling through Taos, New Mexico, not much later, Sloane discovered his true purpose.

"Inspired by the eight-thousand-food view of sky, I had decided to make meteorology and sky painting a life's work and, after all, the best way for me to learn a subject has always been to write a book about it." —Eric Sloane

In this process, Sloane composed one of the great American books on drawing --

Lighthearted, with humor, Sloane starts with descriptions of cloud formations, then helps the reader see and understand  our view, and the dimensions of sky before laying out fun drawing instruction.

It's a personal favorite but only one of a stack of books that Sloane wrote and illustrated on skies and meteorology. These include Skies and the Artist, Look at the Sky and Tell Me The Weather, The Weather Book, For Spacious Skies, Eric Sloane's Book of Storms.

Like John Ruskin, Eric Sloane was most interested in helping people see and understand what they were looking at. His books on drawing, skies and weather help us understand. The rest of his books help us understand the history of America through the mind and hand of an artist and craftsman.

"My research finds that the difference between the early American and the man of today is a matter of awareness. The first pioneers were awake to the dangers and simple differences of the new world's Indians, sudden storms, diseases, wild animals, severe winters, droughts and all the hardships of the great adventure. They were conscious of each moment, magnificently aware of life.

"We today are lethargic, for so many things are done for us. And so we are robbed of the joy and satisfaction of awareness. We switch on lights with no idea of the source, turn a faucet with no idea of where the water comes from. Our clothing might come from New Jersey or Taiwan and even the source of our food is of no particular concern. Few of us know why we are existing and the country with its politics has become too big and complicated for individual awareness. My life's work by writing and painting has been to reawaken the original American consciousness, that quality which created the United States and abounded in earlier days." --Eric Sloane

Visit ericsloane.com

I've been working with watercolor for a long, long time. All I ever want to do is to get better at it.

My first lesson in watercolor was around the age of five. I've been practicing ever since. Because that's what watercolor is, a practice.

I grew up in a house with some variety of watercolor hung on almost every wall. These included a calligraphed page of vellum  from a very large bible, a reproduction of the Chi-Rho from the Book of Kells, a George Biddle watercolor of a rural Cuban scene, a large, pre-Raphaelite Madonna and Child bordered with oranges, blossoms and leaves, a hunt scene in the dining room. There was a tri-fold, Chinese screen painted with birds, bamboo and flowers on black with gold leaf sides that stood in the corner of our living room. By our front door hung a series of early botanical watercolor prints. My mother would design our garden plantings with watercolor and pencil on tracing paper. I think that she must have chosen most of my first books for their watercolor illustrations and, in fact, I was named for the title character in a children’s book illustrated in watercolor and pencil by the author, Marguerite De Angeli, about a French Canadian girl who learns to draw and paint in watercolor on the Gaspé Coast.

With such beginnings, it’s no surprise that I’ve dedicated my life as a painter to the medium of watercolor.

In my early-20s, I had the fortune of studying Art History with Jim Urmston, and watercolor with Ronn Davis at Santa Monica College. One of the great things about Ronn is that he treated me like a pro from the very first day of class. Sure enough, and rather quickly, I started making photorealism portraits of, mostly, musical friends in L.A.; filmy, multi-glazed pieces with loads of pencil work. I started showing almost immediately and received my first professional commissions for these portraits in 1981.

Later, in Sarasota, FL, I turned to architectural portraits of, mostly, historic residences. Those were all made very early in the morning, plopped down on curbs in front of each building.

During my years touring as a performing songwriter, I made small vignettes of scenes in Europe, New England, and Charleston, SC, wherever I would find myself on days off. All of those paintings were made from a field kit of watercolors with a tiny brush on 4" x 6" blocks that I bought at a fabulous art supply shop in Alkmaar, Holland. The scenes of my travels were all made en plein air, as they say.

Then I moved inside and made a series of full sheet bouquets in Charlottesville, VA, The Age of Flowers. In 2006, I built a studio behind my home in Nashville, TN, where I finally let go of what I then felt was the crutch of pencil, of structure beneath my color and launched into a very long series called Landscape into Art, which coincided with my watercolor blogging in those magical early days of blogging. Interestingly, as soon as I let go of relying on pencil in my own watercolor, I became obsessed with encouraging everyone to draw.

When I realized that I was not cut out for the life of incessant touring as an independent musician, I started teaching drawing and watercolor workshops as a way to, eventually, stop touring. That was 25 years ago. In the interim I taught those workshops across the country in every conceivable venue, from museums to back yards.  In 2011, I created the first in-depth, online foundation course in drawing and watercolor. By 2016, I started developing an intensive series of art history practicums that dramatically propelled beginning students onto a level of proficiency that I could never have predicted.

Everyone needs a break now and then. I took my independent sabbatical from teaching in mid-2019. Although I planned to take a year, we all know what happened at the start of 2020. So, my sabbatical was extended unexpectedly and rather dramatically. I've missed teaching because I love teaching, too.

I love introducing this living medium to new explorers, sharing all I've learned over the years, and as I am, apparently, a natural cheerleader, guiding and encouraging students along. I also love providing a solid foundation in watercolor that, alas, too many people miss. In fact, providing a solid foundation is one of the reasons I teach. Without an understanding of the basic elements and principals, people venturing into watercolor become frustrated, easily discouraged and, too often, give up.

I've been reviewing the online course material I've created over the years, and as I consider bringing these courses back, I've realized that I'd like to mix up the curriculum, combining the best of my foundation course with the watercolor history lessons, and offer the recombined content over a longer period of time rather than take my usual fire hose approach.

I'm offering this new learning opportunity to a very small group of students. It's like private lessons, but better. I'll be sending out personal invitations to those of you who've expressed interest but please, contact me if you would like to learn more, and I'll send you a full description of what I'm offering. I'd love to have you join us if it feels like a good fit.

Read about some of my students' experiences here.

I’m grateful that I was introduced to watercolor at such an early age but it doesn't matter what age you are. Watercolor is a medium and a practice that can teach us many things, no matter when we start or how long we've been practicing. I'd love to help you learn to love it, too.

Get in touch to learn more about my online membership course opening in February.

Well, here we are. 2021 is behind us now on this day between Hogmanay and the first new moon of the year.

I hope that you have downtime today to relax if nothing else.  It's a good day for reflection or just hanging out though we're often pressured to decide what we want for the coming year. And oh, those resolutions!

I usually don't send out a note on the first day of the year but nothing is usual anymore so why not?

I heard an interesting differentiation the other day between resolutions and intentions. I found it helpful. You may, too.

"An intention is what you're consciously establishing, creating and setting today in the present moment and it moves the energy forward. An intention is how you are going to move something forward, what you're wanting to create or manifest, what your goals are. So intentions are forward moving.

"Resolutions are about resolving   Resolutions are about resolving something that previously occurred or previously happened. So a resolution can be about energy from the past or something that's complete, something that you don't want to experience again. You're resolving not to do that. You're resolving that that's complete so that you can have something new going forward. These are different energies.

"Intentions are about directiing the energy forward. Resolutions are about something that's already taken place, that you want to change or shift, but it's typically an energy you've already experienced and you're basically recreating it, reworking it and resolving to move it forward.

"So i think it can be quite powerful to look at both of these energetic experiences to define if you're wanting to resolve something or intending to create something." --Molly McCord

If you're not ready with resolutions and intentions, that's okay, although I'll bet you really do have an idea of what you'd like to resolve.

You might be ready with new intentions for tomorrow's New Moon in Capricorn at 1:35 pm EST.  New moons are the best time to set new intentions and this one couldn't have better timing for the year ahead. You may also want to take a little time tomorrow to add the moon phases to your calendar for the upcoming year. At least the new and full moons.

I am happy to say that I know exactly what I am choosing to resolve and exactly what I am intending. I hope that you have at least your main points. If not, and if you want to discover those in time for tomorrow's new moon, grab a notebook and a pen and start writing. Now.

If you've been following me over the years, you'll know that I mark as many new beginnings as I can through the first quarter of the year. So, if you're not ready, or if you need a restart or a little push forward, stay tuned.

Meanwhile, let's resolve to let things go as much as we can. It's truly exhausting to carry stuff (thinigs, relationships, behaviours, ways of thinking) that no longer serve us.

My dear friend, Carole (thank you!) just sent me my absolute favorite rendition of Auld Lang Syne and I want to share it with you. Dougie Maclean singing Robert Burn's poem (based on an old Scottish folk song).

Enjoy!

Auld Lang Syne

Robert Burns

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And days of auld lang syne!

For auld lang syne, my dear,
     For auld lang syne.
     We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,
     For days of auld lang syne.

We twa hae run about the braes,
And pou'd the gowans fine;
But we've wander'd mony a weary fit,
Since days of auld lang syne.

We twa hae paidl'd in the burn,
Frae morning sun till dine;
But seas between us braid hae roar'd
Since days of auld lang syne.

For auld lang syne, my dear,
     For auld lang syne.
     We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,
     For days of auld lang syne.

And surely ye'll be your pint stowp!
And surely I'll be mine!
And we'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.

And there's a hand, my trusty fere!
And gie's a hand o' thine!
And we'll tak a right gude-willie waught,
For auld lang syne.

For auld lang syne, my dear,
     For auld lang syne.
     We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,
     For days of auld lang syne.

Spectacles and Bee Still Life, 1971
Charcoal on paper, 30 x 22 1/4 inches
Lawrence Markey Gallery

“Painting and drawing is something you can enjoy without it having to be art or worrying about it being art. . . . Everybody should have that privilege and that great way of knowing things.” — Wayne Thiebaud

When I originally wrote this blog post in 2010, there was an exhibit of Wayne Thiebaud drawings from 1964-1974 in San Antonio, Texas, at the Lawrence Markey Gallery. I wrote the post for the Drawing America blog that accompanied the national initiative I founded to promote drawing over a dozen years ago. That initiative went the way of all things as have most of the links in those articles.

Now, Wayne Thiebaud has left us, too. But at 101, (NYT) and on Christmas Day (Sacramento Bee). I loved Thiebaud's landscapes and his drawings. What I loved most about Wayne Thiebaud was his dedication to teaching drawing and painting, and his down to earth daily discipline.

Read Philip Kennicott's appreciation (my favorite art and architecture critic).

You can view many of Wayne Thiebaud's drawings plus other delights at the Smithsonian Archives of American Art.

"Art is one of the dirtiest words in our language; it's mucked up with all kinds of meanings. There's the art of plumbing; there's the art of almost anything that you can say." — Wayne Thiebaud

As a teenager, Thibaud landed his first job as an animator for Disney. During World War II, he joined the U.S. Army Air Corps working as a cartoonist for service publications while stationed at Mather Field outside of Sacramento. In fact, Thiebaud's Uncle Jess was a cartoonist.

Renowned for his teaching, Thiebaud emphasizes underlying drawing as the foundation of painting. He believes in the importance of drawing from life because photographic images differ too greatly from what the human eye actually sees.

Books by Wayne Thiebaud

Ben Bamsey writes in ARTWORKS that at 88, "Thiebaud still sketches, enjoys plein air and does a cartoon nearly every day." Read the March 2010 article here.

Watch this KQED video of Wayne Thiebaud. It's mostly about his painting but he points to preliminary drawings next to a painting he's working on in the studio and there's a segment of him drawing a demo in a UC Davis class.

A description of Wayne Thiebaud: A Paintings Retrospective at The Phillips Collection. The Catalogue.

24 Facts About Wayne Thiebaud's Early Life.

Want to do research on Wayne Thiebaud's work? You can view The Wayne Thiebaud Papers by appointment at the Smithsonian Archives of American Art in D.C.

"If we don't have a sense of humor, we lack a sense of perspective." —Wayne Thiebaud

More great quotes from Mr. Thiebaud.

If the sun is shining where you are today, go outside for a walk and take a look at the shadows. You (and everything else) will cast your longest shadow of the year.

Although it's the day with the longest period of darkness, I like to think that this is the best time to let go of the darkness and shadows. Light a candle when the sun has set to mark the winter solstice. From now until June 21st, we'll see a little more sunlight every day. Every year, I find this encouraging.

For many of us, the last few years or so have been troubling in one way or another. Personally, I welcome any opportunity to shake those troubles off. Today holds one of those opportunities. The winter solstice marks the astrological beginning of winter at 10:59 am EST, but holds the promise of spring. It's a big deal day.

Don't just take my word for this, earthlings (in the northern hemisphere) have been celebrating this moment of the year for eons. Most of us are familiar with Stonehenge, the prehistoric site in Wiltshire, England, designed to exactly align with the sunset on the winter solstice (and the sunrise of the summer solstice). But Newgrange, in Ireland's Boyne Valley, pre-dating Stonehenge and the Great Pyramid of Giza, is designed specifically to capture 17 minutes of sunrise on the winter solstice. The temple of Karnak in the Luxor valley aligns with the winter solstice, and some of the Nazca Lines in Peru converge at exactly the place on the horizon where the sun sets on this same day.

I don't know what was going on in these places once they were built and while they were actively used (and neither does anyone else in 2021) but each took such an effort to construct that I can't imagine there wasn't some sort of extraordinary event at each of these locations on what we now date the 21st of December.

That being said, we know for sure that there were plenty of ancient festivities related to the winter solstice. The Roman Saturnalia (which morphed into Christmas), St. Lucia's Day (which was incorporated into pre-Christian Norse festivals), Yule, Dong Zhi in China and other Asian countries, Shab-e Yalda for Iranians, Shalako for the Native American Zuni, Soyal for the Hopi. Alas, we have to imagine how Celtic cultures celebrated.

If those are not enough links to keep you busy, here's Astronomy for a Change's quick snapshot of this day, this year, and timeanddate's straight ahead explanation.

Although my personal celebration is subdued, this is my high holy day. It reminds me that the darkest hour is just before dawn and helps keep me connected to the earth, our seasons, and the star we revolve around.

This is a time to let go of what's been keeping you dim and to set intentions to give energy and attention to what makes you shine brightly. Be still. Make a wreath with found pieces of plants or do something to honor nature. Smile and light a candle to signify your siding with the light. Set an intention for something that comes naturally to you that might help bring more light to your world in the year ahead.

Whatever you do, remember that we have been celebrating this moment on earth for a very long time. Bow to the sun, raise your heart, be grateful to be alive. This life is a gift.

You are not alone. Everyone who has ever celebrated this moment on earth throughout time is with you.

Peace, love and hope to you all.

Are you celebrating the Winter Solstice? If so, let me know your plans in the comments below.

I can point to several influences by the age of five that secured my path to becoming a watercolor painter. Gertrude Elliott Espensheid's illustrations for The Tall Book of Christmas were a very strong shaping factor.  While all of Espensheid's pictures are (really) wonderful, the ones for Granny Glittens set me up for a lifetime of lusting after vibrant colors.

I also just realized that Gertrude Crampton proffered the idea that we can sell the art we like to make, and that there is nothing like having to put food on the table (and in the cat's bowl) to awaken creative invention.

It's my personal tradition to re-read The Tall Book of Christmas every year. This year, I'm sharing part of it here with you. Enjoy!

From:
The Tall Book of Christmas. Selected by Dorothy Hall Smith. Pictures by Gertrude Elliott Espenscheid. Harper & Row, Publishers, New York and Evanston.
Gertrude Crampton author "Granny Glittens and Her Amazing Mittens," from Playmate, 1944.

Reproduced without permission for educational purposes only

If you're going to learn to heal yourself, you have to learn to know yourself.

Learning to know yourself means learning to understand your body, your mind and your emotions.

Your body is your temple. It's made up of a variety of beautiful systems that work together energetically and it's fed and powered by food, air, water, light, and energies that we cannot or do not perceive with our five senses or that we do not fully understand at this point in time.

Becoming acquainted with your own body is a life-long pursuit because as we age, our body changes and so does its needs. What your body needs at the age of 17 is different from what it needs at 65.

The environments through which our body moves change, too. And, related, the world in which we live is changing ever more quickly it seems on a daily basis. As a general example, the way your body feels in bed on waking in the morning is different from the way it feels when you're out walking in the sunshine and different from the way that it feels when you go through a grocery store or crowded arena. The world of thirty years ago (let alone, fifty years ago) is radically different from today's world. There are more people, more cars, more chemicals, and more noise and information than we could ever have imagined. Our food is different. Our means of communication has changed.

All of these things generate energy. Some of the most beautiful and least understood sets of systems in our bodies are energetic. Without even scratching the surface of those energetic systems (because they are complex and varied and differently understood and deserve separate and more lengthy investigations), you know when you experience energetic interference in your body.

Food is energy. This is a simple place to start. If you eat a bag of M&M's (unless you are really out of touch with your bodily sensations), you feel differently from when you eat fresh vegetables from the garden. If you eat half a loaf of bread with cheese, you feel differently from when you drink half a glass of grapefruit juice.

People are fields of energy. Here we have another experience of energy. You know that if you come across a person and have a sense of foreboding or a gut reaction that your body is alerting you with a warning no matter how gentile and polite that person may seem in presentation. That's one instance of energetic fields at work.

If we forget about your interaction with another person, you can also gauge your energetic fields by your experience of your environment. For example, imagine your body as you walk through the woods in springtime when nature is coming back to life and the birds are singing and the sun is shimmering through the trees. Now imagine your body in a dark, cluttered room with stale beer, urine and cigarette smells clinging to the walls and fabrics with loud rock or rap music blaring with the bass turned up, pummeling your internal organs. Is one an experience of openness and nurture? Is another an experience of defense and closing down? It's not a trick question. Your body may prefer different environments than mine. I'm just saying that different environments have different effects on our bodies.

What you put into your body and what you put your body into affects your energetic systems.

The same is true of your thoughts. Your thinking affects your self as much as anything. When I was a kid, we used to joke about the signs on busses in Great Britain Mind Your Head was posted above the exit stairs. Now it's used for a SAD lamp brand and mental health campaigns. But it's a good slogan to remember. Watch your thoughts. 

Watching your thoughts is a practice. Certainly not a 24/7 practice but you can get into the habit and I highly recommend it as a means to learning to know yourself.

The best instruction I have ever received on learning to watch my thoughts was a long study of meditation when I lived in Boston through Shambhala Meditations. I have a wild and racing mind. Also during the time that I lived in Boston, I consulted a highly recommended doctor of Chinese medicine for some issue. I can't remember what. After our consultation, he told me, "Look. You have such an active mind that I want you to do this practice." He literally brought me back into his storefront office on Mass Ave and sat me down and said, "Just start counting backwards from 100. Practice this regularly by which he meant several times a day." I'm just telling you that story to demonstrate how wild my own mind is. I've been learning meditation techniques since I was a teenager and the older crowd who'd been into psychedelic drugs were then teaching Trancendental Meditation. It was okay but it didn't really stick with me. Or I did not stick with it.

The thing about my years of studying Shambhala meditation practice is that, more than anything else, it taught me to watch my thoughts without judgement. In a nutshell, for this practice, we sat in a highly specific position, followed our out breath, and every time we because aware of ourselves thinking, the instruction was to label our thinking "Thinking" and go back to our out breath. Many, probably most people beat themselves up to some degree upon realizing that they were thinking. I took to heart and quite seriously the instruction of not judging myself for thinking. I can't say why. I can only say that I did and am glad of it because the practice truly allowed me to become highly aware of my thoughts. Shambhala Training has, sadly, gone the way of all things. There are many forms of meditation and what works for me is not necessarily what will work for you.

Now, I practice a Kundalini Yoga breath meditation at the end of my morning routine of yoga, physical therapy exercises and waking up my chakra system with essential oils and spinal exercises. I'm quite sloppy with my routine but I do it!

Also, one of the best meditation practices for me is drawing. That's why I taught drawing for over twenty years. Drawing forces you to sit still, observe an object or become involved in the drawing process and, when you allow it, completely bypass the thought stream. Most of the time, I try to draw on a daily basis without worrying about the outcome. Just for the sake of moving the pen or pencil across the paper and for the time it takes to do so.

Speaking of moving the pen across paper, I also journal every morning. This practice is such a part of me that I cannot imagine my life without writing every morning. I feed the animals, make a cup of strong (now Bulletproof) coffee, sit down with my Lamy Safari pen, commit the date and day of the week to the top of the page and start in. I'll write a good post on journaling as a means to self-knowledge later but suffice it to say that it works.

As for getting to know your emotional self, it's complicated and definitely relies on regular practice of paying attention to your emotional state as a practice and working to understand what triggers your emotions. That being said, the simplest way I have learned to discover your emotional self is to understand that emotions are a result of thoughts which is why it is critical to pay attention to your thoughts. I learned this from my brilliant coach and teacher, Brooke Castillo who devised her model after the work of Byron Katie, Pema Chödron and others. Essentially, the "model" is Circumstance, Thought, Feeling, Action, and Result. More on that later. But if you can get that your emotions are a result of your thoughts, you are well along in the game of knowing yourself.

Practice. Getting to know yourself is a practice. Learning to heal yourself is a practice that follows on getting to know yourself. It's life long dance and it's worth everything you put into it.

Learning to know yourself and to heal yourself is not about trying to be happy. It's about being as healthy as you can be.

Life is short. Life is a gift. You are in a temporary body in temporary situations for a temporary blink of an eye .

Learn to know yourself, love yourself and experience your life for all it has to offer. There is only one of you and you're a glorious expression of cosmic energy come to earth for a fascinating ride

Because my mind was going a mile a minute when I sat down to meditate this morning, I plopped a vase of mums directly in the line of my meditative gaze. I'm not sure that this helped me step out of the thought stream but they sure were beautiful to look at. Before I stood up to move along with my day, I gathered them between my hands, buried my face in them and inhaled deeply. I love the smell of mums!

It is too, too easy to be sucked into the virtual world of (often) horror and mayhem. Make it a practice to focus on the beautiful objects in your space. After all, you put them there, didn't you? If you haven't filled your space with objects of beauty that the light can find, please, do yourself a favor and do so now.

The objects that the light finds and illuminates will illuminate your mind, whether you love them or not. Practice seeing what the light illuminates. Practice loving that.

This is a short post. I'm looking away now. Looking for the beautiful in my immediate vicinity.

Now, listen. Not every artist is prone to be a magician. I am not going to even try to define what constitutes an artist. But I will say this much.

Magic is all about transformation. Whether we're talking about turning a base metal into gold, climbing through a wardrobe into an alternate reality, or pulling a rabbit out of a hat, magic is about changing the nature of reality.

Artists are always tinkering with reality. Representational painting is about working a two dimensional surface to appear as three dimensions. Music does not actually exist in three dimensions. Composers translate something they "hear" into symbols on a page that are then interpreted by musicians who interpret those musical ideas into vibrations of sound. Novelists and screenwriters make up worlds left and right, crammed with characters in places who have relationships and histories. Architects imagine structures and spaces then pull together materials and build. Voila! Where there was a meadow now stands a building.

All of this is work is transformational. All of this is a form of magic. And all of it demands some level of a shift in consciousness. 

The comics writer, Alan Moore beautifully draws up the idea of the Artist as Magician. Here's an excerpt.
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More than ever, at this very moment, we need artists of all stripes to consider their transformational skills and role in our culture and how they're going to use those skills and play their parts.

Exploring this very consideration is what I'm after with my Creative Wayfinding course. If you are an artist or creative (whatever you call yourself) and this resonates with you, click here and let me hear from you.