An Interview with Artist Rae Robinson

LF: How did you start painting?

RR: Like any kid, I always loved painting and drawing. If anyone gave me a crayon and a piece of paper I was entertained for hours. Unlike many kids that went to church or other adult activities and their moms would bring Cheerios, fruit snacks, toys and books, my mom never brought anything; her thing was giving me and my siblings a pen and the church program or paper and that was our entertainment, so I guess I was kind of forced to draw, and I have no complaints there! In high school I also worked at a theatre downtown where I helped build and paint the sets. I loved it so much, but I still didn’t really know how to scale down art or do more academic work until college.

My favorite charcoal drawing, this girl intrigued me. She was in one of my classes and had a little sass about her. Her father is from Kenya and she’s from Texas, she always talked about her roots but at the same time she was the average American teenager. I tried to capture both those sides in this drawing. “Hipster meets Tradition”.

LF: What inspires you the most about art?

RR: Art inspires me in every aspect of my life. I can’t even meet a person without assigning them a color. I often won’t remember your name but I’ll never forget the color I gave you. Art inspires me the most in my relationships with people. If there is one thing I’ve learned in painting it's that every painting and drawing has to go through an ugly stage. At the beginning I’m always excited about the possible outcome of the piece, but I soon find that after many hours the painting has turned sour—the nose might be drooped down to the chin, one eye might be on hair line and the hand is 3x too big… in other words, it’s a disaster. That’s when every artist is faced with a decision: either to snap it in half and throw your brushes across the room (which I have done many times) or to sit down blast the music (Weezer or Passion Pit) get a snack (popcorn) and find a new determination to fix every mistake and patiently let it come together. That’s how I see relationships, they always go through ugly stages and not everything is always perfect with my sisters, dad, mom, boyfriend and friends, but art has taught me to take the second option and work through it. Many artists always show their final piece and have a sense of pride in it but the final product has never been my favorite part about it. My favorite part is always the process that piece took me through (typically an emotional frustrating one) and that’s how life is. It's not about the final outcome, but the process of everyday. Art is everything to me. It’s typically the first and last thing I think about when I wake up and go to bed.

One of the emotional drawings. I didn’t know I was sad or down until I stepped back and realized her position. Later I read my scriptures and realized that of course burdens come and it’s ok, we are supposed to have them. We are all connected to expressing our emotions in some way and God is connected to help us through these emotions in His way.

LF: If you had to give someone a piece of advice around finding your passion, what would you offer?

RR: If I could give anyone one piece of advice about finding their passion it would be to “Date Life.” I know it sounds a bit odd to date life, but my experience has taught me that dates with life are actually the most exciting dates I’ve been on. I had a friend that was expressing her frustration with boys and how she was just so fed up with them. I found myself expressing to her that she just needs to date life, see what it has to offer, and pick and choose from there. There is so much we can’t control around us, but when you date life, you have the power to choose what you are going to do on that date. Dating life is similar to regular relationships, you have to try out many different things to figure out what you like. Maybe a pottery class, hiking, culinary class, foreign films, photography, poetry, badminton . . . you can really start with anything and maybe the first go around is something that you love and you stay with, or maybe it's just horrible and that’s ok—you just try something else. The most exciting dates with life are getting into things that push you, take you out of your comfort level and urge you to develop. Developing talents and passion has made the biggest difference in my life. There was a point in my life (and I’m sure for many others) where I wasn’t in a good relationship which obviously led to many bad breakups, it was hard and brutal, and like so many other things in life that I've gone through, it left me a little helpless and lost. Each time I was left a little more lost, but those were the times I also found myself in art. Being lost and sad, I never wanted to be around people (still struggle), but I would find my own company and a paintbrush entertaining. I would just go paint for hours and draw, sometimes sad and depressing things, but I would draw nevertheless.  Developing a talent pushes us to look beyond ourselves so we don’t just focus on our social status, body type, clothes, followers and “friends” on social media.  It gives us the ability to love ourselves because we love something else that pushes us.

My canvases were always a little creative when I was younger…my little brother Seth was such a trooper. 

LF: Name one thing that you’re hoping to accomplish in the next year.

RR: In the next year I would love to assign more of a style to my work. I feel like that is a never ending search for any artist or person with a passion. Right now I’m in this experimental phase where I just try some of everything, it's fun and I’m enjoying the phase, but eventually I would love to have a style and a medium that I can really master. 

One of my first portraits. I was faced with those two decisions while painting it, but I'm glad I stuck with the second decision to keep working. 

LF: What advice would you have given yourself three years ago?

RR: Three years ago I would have given myself the advice to be patient and enjoy the stage where you just really kinda suck (ha!). Too often I always wanted to be better immediately, instead of enjoying crappy piece after crappy piece. I would also tell myself to not be so dramatic or think the world was over with one bad thing. Wake up early. You only need one or two GOOD friends, not a million. Family and God are the most important things. Finally, be yourself and let yourself change.

Oooh, such delicious words, artwork and advice. Find Rae on Instagram at @raebaebaerob—it's always a beautiful adventure. 

All of the Things I'm Not by Aymie Haslam

I’m not a very good storyteller. I can also assure you that my laugh is dreadfully annoying, I am a frequent attendee of “The Pity Party” (always my own, of course) and I can over think things to the point of exhaustion. But…we’ll get to all that shortly.

Taylor asked me, “What are the top three things you’d want people to know about you?”

Uh…everything…and nothing? I couldn’t mention one thing without qualifying it. When I finally thought of a few things I couldn’t get the words to come together. What do you, the reader, want to know about me?! Nothing really. I am of almost no significance to you other than the fact that I am someone writing for a blog you frequent. I’m just some nobody Canadian, living a rather uneventful life. I will say that, for the sake of this post, you NEED to know that I love myself, but it wasn’t always that way.

Growing up is tough on everyone. If you’re not dealing with a bully, you’re dealing with making friends or struggling with how much time you get on the computer …or all three. There is always something dissatisfying, disheartening, or flat out unfair. As a child, I remember being so insecure, so uncomfortable in my own skin; I was consumed by an almost paralyzing anxiety. I was constantly haunted by feelings of inadequacy, drowning in the possibility that I may never be good enough.

If my laugh didn’t sound right, or I told a story that ended up having no real point or conclusion I would get sucked into a cyclone of self-hate. Eventually these toxic assessments of my self began to manifest in physical retribution. The scars on my body now remind me to always be there for myself, because some times no one else can.

I have since over come most of those struggles. I still have bad days. Nights when I can’t sleep because I am thinking of all the things I’m not. I also have better days that show me how capable I am. I have a strong belief in choosing who you want to be. In letting go of your own past and creating a brighter future for yourself despite the influence of others. My family is a constant strength for me. My faith holds me together when nothing else will. When things really get tough I just go and get my eyebrows done because oddly enough a new set of brows makes me feel like a Nubian Queen. I make sure to take time for myself. I feel truly alive when I am alone in a crowded place. I once spent an evening alone in a Roman piazza just eating and people watching. That may have been the best part of my trip.

Sometimes I give up too soon. I worry too much. I will always find a way to fall off something. I am littered with flaws. However, I don’t take myself too seriously, anymore. I give amazing hugs and I’m very determined and ambitious. We must learn to laugh at ourselves and enjoy our own company. If you find that you are not, I would encourage you to live the law of acceptance of yourself. It is not an excuse to live in mediocrity, but allows you healthy space to work on self-improvement. It makes life just a little easier to live. Also, if you have another moment to spare, run over to Tyler Ford’s post Too Much. It touched my heart and I hope it speaks to you too.

Thank you for reading.

Aymie is so real, so earnest, and so inspirational. Also the Nubian Queen comment makes me fall in love with her even more. Find her on Instagram at @aymielu and you'll fall in love with her too (if you haven't already).

The World's Friends by Caroline Altom

Do you ever feel like the whole world is just… waiting for you? Like it’s whispering (or in my case YELLING), “Hey, you! You wanna hang out sometime?” And then after you hang out a few times, some feelings develop, maybe your hang-outs turn into dates, and then before you know it, the world is ready to introduce you to its friends. “Hey, I was thinking. I want to introduce you to my friends. They’re pretty cool. At first they might be a little intimidating. Because, well, they might be a little different than you. But I promise, if you give them a chance, you’ll love them.” And little did you know, the world was saying the same thing about you to all his friends.

Let me tell you—I got to meet some of the world’s friends, and I LOVE THEM.

When it came time for college graduation, like most (all) college grads, I had a lot to figure out. For sure a “trip around the world” was at the top of my list, like many other grads who want to travel, take risks, and put off responsibility as long as possible. AS WE SHOULD. Sorry Mom. Luckily for me, the day I walked into my “Senior Research” class, it absolutely did not feel right. Which then meant I had two weeks to figure out an internship for after graduation. Best thing that ever happened. Oh and did I mention that for about a year leading up to graduation, the universe, or the Big Guy Upstairs, was sending me messages that I needed to go to Ireland?

So, why not? Why not at least try for it? I had to do, otherwise that would be some major self-betrayal. And I knew I had nothing to lose by going for it. I either stayed and did an internship in the states, or I got to go to freaking Ireland. I saw no negative consequences there, only opportunity. And next thing I knew, I was packing my bags to move to Ireland and work at The Shelbourne Hotel. Can we say “meant to be?” I hate imagining if I hadn’t tried, because cheese alert, this experience changed my life.

As I sit here trying to write about what it was like moving there, I wish there was a way to transfer the warmth in my heart and smile on my face into words on this page. I felt so alive the minute I stepped onto those streets of Dublin. And it was all so exciting. Apartment! International roommates! Immigration office! Social security card! Irish phone and bank account! Different languages all around me! Using Euros! Hopping on the train, not having any idea where I was going! Getting rained on TONS! But most importantly, I met so many new and different and beautiful people, who taught me so much and brightened my soul forever. I’ll have more to say on them, hang tight.

Working was quite the experience as well. I quickly learned that “half-two” really meant 2:30, and that when people say “You’re very welcome,” it’s not in response to someone giving thanks, but it really is a welcome, you know? I’m sorry, but I had the best position at the entire hotel. Don’t get me wrong, there were loads of absolutely exhausting and strenuous days/nights; that’s the service industry. But I had so many opportunities to chat with hundreds of guests and hear their life stories. Like Jerry, the Architect from New York, who had MS and while he sat in the green lobby chairs cheerfully waiting for his wife to return from her adventures, told me of his experiences building the finance building in NYC. Or Michael, the man who had been in Dublin in the 1970’s and while he was shopping, came out to Grafton Street and found the IRA ready to blow up the building across the street. The stories are endless, and I plan on sharing them one day. Oh I was just constantly elated. I believe humans are happiest when they’re learning, which leads to progression, and man, I was in a constant state of learning for the eight months I lived on that breathtaking Emerald Isle. It’s even greener and more beautiful than you imagine it, by the way.

I think it’s clear I could go on about my day-to-day in Ireland. But a large part of my overall experience was when, after saving the tiny amount of money I worked my butt off for, I visited England, Austria, the Czech Republic, and later quit my job early (whoops) to go travel the rest of Europe for a month. This is when I got to meet more of the world’s friends, and wow they really are great. Hungary, Sweden, Denmark, Netherlands, Germany, Switzerland, Italy. Incredible places, really. Stunning, unique, tasty, aesthetically pleasing, and each offer something completely awe-inspiring.

But when I look back on that trip, and my whole experience in Ireland, I don’t first think of the things I saw. Not to ever discount the beauty of those places. But those places will always be... places. Dare I say, they’re “re-place-able?” Not in a sense that one is better than the other, or one is forgettable, etc. I’m simply implying that you can leave one place and go to another, always. And majority of the time it will be overly exciting to visit each new place. But for me, it’s the people that make the experience. The people and their cultures are irreplaceable. I will never, ever, forget dancing at a birthday party in the family garage with Shandor, the 70-something year old Hungarian that spoke no English (or I spoke no Hungarian, really). But you don’t need to speak the same language to swing dance do you? Nor will I forget the delicate, pretty old lady who I talked with the whole train ride into Switzerland, who I swear was the most “colorblind,” open minded, loving person I’ve ever met. And of course my Oma for the week in Holland, who is Dutch but lived and married in Israel, and experienced and saw so much in her lifetime, she would do the world so much good by making an “inspirational quote of the day” book.

And what would I have done in Ireland, without my people there? Who welcomed and embraced me with their complete love, and taught me so much about their own culture, their own beliefs, families, political views, goals, dreams, and who are all so different from me and from one another, but who very clearly love sharing our humanity.

There’s no doubt about it, meeting some of the world’s friends was intimidating. And they are different than me in a lot of ways. But hey, since when was “difference” a bad thing? I thought different was just…different? I believe the intimidation comes from the unknown. We often fear what we don’t know or understand. But as you give those unknowns a chance, they become more known, more understood, more loved.

In the end, we are different. But mostly in the superficial fluff that doesn’t matter as much. You see, they’re just trying to figure out how to live their life, the same way I’m trying to figure out how to live mine.

This woman is just as driven, dazzling and energetic as she sounds and we can't get enough of her wild spirit. Follow her on Instagram at @gingerattack.

Bath Power

I never would have anticipated writing a post about baths on Love Force, but I do anticipate writing a lot of posts about self-care, a category which I think baths absolutely fall under. Because when the going gets tough, I get into the tub.

As I mentioned on our Instagram, it feels like it's been a challenging few weeks. Some personal heartaches have hit our family, but it seems like worldwide, we've got some serious sorrow on our hands. Our thoughts and prayers go out to those that are struggling, suffering and wondering when it's going to get better. You are not alone.

In the words of our motto, Love Force is about truth, about being alive, and about what those two things mean for us (both individually and collectively) when they're intertwined together. A truth about being alive: sometimes life feels insurmountable. Another truth: self care (intentional actions you take to care for your physical, mental and emotional health) is a very real thing, and is vital to moving through and healing from pain. Self care can take all sorts of forms—anything from meditation to hugging your dog to doing a puzzle to going for a walk to having a good laugh or a good cry. Taking care of ourselves and others is a key component in contributing to a more peaceful world (and no, it's not selfish).

Which leads me to bath time.

The other night I got home from work, not having slept much the night before, and went straight to the bathtub. My husband walked in to a dark and quiet apartment and must have seen candlelight flickering off of our bathroom walls through the door crack as he slowly pushed it open. I had propped my iPad up on the counter and was watching David Attenborough's Life series (available on le Netflíx) because nature shows are one of my go-to 'happy places'.

"You doing okay?" he asked. I shifted my eyes up at him. "It's a bathtub cinema kind of night," I replied, my chin not leaving its Jabba the Hutt position on my chest. Bathtub cinema. He gets it.

Turns out hydrotherapy (ultimately using water to promote health and well-being in a myriad of forms) has been around for centuries, and with good reason. Records of its use have been found in Egyptian, Persian, Greek, Chinese and Japanese civilizations, for all sorts of medicinal uses ranging from detoxification to improving circulation.

I swear by baths, and was totally tickled to see that the Scientific American covered a study done by researchers at Yale called The Substitutability of Physical and Social Warmth in Daily Life, which can be translated to mean: "Hot Baths May Cure Loneliness". From the study:

More recently, Williams and Bargh (2008) showed that incidental warmth experiences (such as when holding a cup of hot coffee or taking a warm bath) produce “warm” psychological experiences of trust and behavioral effects on generosity, without the person’s awareness.

To add on to feelings of trust and generosity, baths are credited with improving focus and meditation, boosting brain power, soothing muscles (menstrual cramps included), relieving stress, aiding sleep, healing skin conditions like eczema, reducing infection, alleviating colds and headaches and improving circulation, to name a few. And if those things can help us to be our best, healthiest selves, we're in.

If you're in need of inspiration, do yourself a favor and watch this beautiful National Geographic video of Japanese macaques (or snow monkeys) meditating in hot springs. What I would give to just slip right in with them.

Images via Marta Gil, Taylor Radelia and Salva López.

A Letter to Myself by Jordan Rippy

Dear younger Jordan,

You're shy and quiet. You worry too much about what other people think. As you grow up, you'll still worry, but it won't affect you as much. 

Work on yourself. Become who you've always wanted to be. Don't let the hesitations in your mind stop you. If anything interests you, try it. Take the trips, flirt with the boy, and live by the "Why not?" mentality because truly—what is the worst that could happen? 

You'll turn 25 and your close friend will write a simple statement on your card saying, "Happy Birthday to a friend who is so full of life and love." And that sticks with you because that is who you want to be; that is is how you want to be remembered.

So be confident. Be open and don't second-guess yourself. And always keep in mind what your favorite character Winnie the Pooh says: "You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think." 

xoxo,

Jordan

Follow Jordan (who happens to be my incredible sister) on Instagram at @jodorippy for some of the best quotes, travel logs and San Diego sunset picture you've ever seen.

Life in Death by Regina Moomjean

In short, my Grandfather was my last living Grandparent. Ironically, though he was in my life the longest, it seems he took the longest for me to get to know. His wife of over 50 years, my Gram, was one of the closest and most influential people in my life. We lost her when I was only 13 years old and I am finding that one of the reasons the present loss of my Grandfather has been so layered and complex is because I am going through the emotion of losing her all again, it seems. The warmest and kindest of people, my grandfather was an amazing man. It wasn't that he didn't have time for us, or he was mean or anything awful like that. He was WONDERFUL. Always! But as a child, he was a man of few words. He was often in his back office, spending countless hours working on genealogy, one of his life's true passions. He would always come out to say hello, play for a little while, and then retire back to his room or the den for the rest of the my visit or sleepover with Gram. I didn't think anything of it.

And I would't think anything of it, until I lost her. Her passing was such a difficult time for me for an array of reasons. But most crucially, it was my first real experience with death. Even most of my friends hadn't lost grandparents yet. We were all very lucky. While death was something that I always knew of; I hadn't interacted with it personally, until her untimely death. I remember as a 13 year old being so frightened and genuinely heartbroken at the excruciating loss. I couldn't comprehend that at 13, every single memory I had of her would be the same that I'd have for the rest of my life. I wouldn't gain any new ones. I wouldn't have more. It would be just that. Just what we'd shared in those short 13 years.

Once she was gone, everything seemed to change. Visits to Grandad's felt hollow for me, and more than that, slightly uncomfortable. We would all sit in the front room of his beautiful home in Mission Hills, he'd sit rock in his rocking chair and we'd discuss things we'd been doing. The newest play I was in, my sister's soccer games, mom and work. It was all lovely, but it felt so strange. I would always long to go upstairs, being a person who is so in tune with spaces, and visuals and everything tangible that life has to offer. For me, it felt like Gram was still there if I could just go upstairs and spend time in the places that we would share our time. But I never did, because it would be strange for me to walk upstairs while everyone was sitting together in the front room. And as an early teenager, I didn't feel comfortable enough to explain that desire. More so, I was confused in my own head.

Years went on and we all became so much closer with my incredible Grandfather. My cousin, in particular, lived with him for a few years and truly pioneered a deeper relationship and I think, paved the way for many of us. It was a beautiful thing that she did.

Flashing forward, I am so blessed and thankful for the way everything played out. I would give anything to see my Gram again, and to have had her for so many more of those formative years in my life. But looking back now, I feel there is surely a reason things went the way they did. 

What I've learned in this chapter of my life, losing this person who was such an onion to me; is that my life is at a crossroads. I am finding that the peace and comfort that I am feeling is coming from those stories of the past. And I am so thankful to him for documenting them for us. I've found that I DID get to make new memories with Gram. I am still making memories with both of them. Whether it's the millions of photos they took traveling the world that I've asked to keep. Whether it's the couch I also asked to keep, that was one of my Grandparents first purchases as adults. These are pieces of them that I can cherish and help ease the pain of letting go. They allow me to feel like I don't have to let go. I can have coffee with Grandad on his couch. I can paint with Gram, using her old tablets and brushes.

I asked my mom if we could go to my Grandfather's house the weekend after his passing. It felt strange, being there. Now not only was the void of Gram ever present, but now there was a whole 'nother missing figure. An empty house that once was the scene of every holiday celebration. A place I can truly say I grew and learned about myself. I just wanted to go and be there. In silence. I wasn't even sad. It was more that I was finally saying, it's okay to do all those things you wanted to here. Go explore. Walk around. Take photos. Take hold of the memories and let them be alive and part of you, and not something you feel you have to keep only in your memory. Make them tangible.

For me, it was so cathartic. 

In addition, and I could go on forever…but I won't. I am someone who has always struggled with dealing with loss and sadness in general. I won't even watch 75% of movies, because I can't handle anything sad. I can't watch others suffer, and I can't process sadness. I am an eternal optimist, and what's more, is I am an eternal lover of the light. And so, in all things, my new great loss included; I've chosen to search for all the good that is still left. I've chosen to see myself as part of a long lineage of amazing people, who were artists and dreamers and travelers. I think that they are never truly gone because part of them really is in me. And if I let myself open up enough, they are there all the more.

I was always so scared of letting go. I still have fears, as anyone does, of losing those that I love as life goes on. But I am learning that the best way to deal is the share their stories. Make them still known to the people around you. They don't have to only live in the past. And if my Grandfather instilled anything, SURELY it's that I should always remember my past. It always helps to know where you came from. It gives you strong roots.

I will continue getting to know them better, as I think new thoughts and look at photos of them often.  I will see photos on the day of their wedding; traveling through Europe, spending time at their cabin in Big Bear, and I'll think… "I was there, too." "I wonder what they were thinking?" Unanswered questions can be hard to deal with, but I don't view them as a bad thing. Maybe over time, answers reveal themselves. I think they do. If you let them, and if you truly want to know.

For now, that's all. It's the realization that life is a journey, for all of us. Always. We all take turns going through the hard times, and we'll all take turns being strong for those we love when they have their turn. But I know the answer isn't shutting the hurt out. I know the answer isn't weeping and pain. I think the answer is to be ever searching and establishing all that you are feeling throughout the entire process. Sharing it, giving it a voice. Acting on what your heart is telling you to do. 

There's freedom in that. And for me, in this process, that's been the ticket.

I think I've read this at least fifteen times; is it not the loveliest? Do yourself a favor and follow this eternal lover of the light on Instagram at @ginamoom—your days will be that much brighter.

#MyFavoriteSelf

Do you have a favorite self?

Think of a time or two that was captured on camera when you felt really strong, or really weak, or really sexy, or really badass, or really natural, or really healthy, or really real. Really alive. This week, Love Force is challenging readers to post a favorite picture of themselves—we want to see you as your truest, freest self, most favorite self, whatever that looks like to you.

Post the picture on Instagram with the hashtag #myfavoriteself and tag @loveforceblog. Tell us why that's a favorite "you" and throughout the week, Love Force will be featuring your posts on our Instagram feed, with a winner announced Friday, May 1st. (Winner gets a copy of Amy Poehler's book Yes Please!)

And we want you to spread the word! Our hope is that taking a minute to think about your favorite self will inspire others to do the same. And the world could use a lot more favorite selves. Best of luck!

(Images from Tomboy Style, The Sartorialist, and ShootingFilm.net)