The literal first thought I had when I woke up this morning was, "The cost of doing business like they do."
What. Why would that be my first morning thought on a Sunday?
I can't remember my dreams last night, so not sure if it's tied to one I was having before waking up. It was a strong, clear message though, so here's what I'm going to do with it.
I'm going to free-write and see what wants to emerge, and then I'm going to send it to you...probably an hour or two from right now now. Oooh, I got nervous as I typed that. Okay, let me fill my coffee and see what this piece of writing wants to be. Brb.
K, I'm back.
The past 5-6 weeks I've been pretty consistently making art. I would even say, I have a tiny art practice right now.
quick charcoal of my over-loaded coat rack
I was struggling to make art at the start of summer, let alone with any consistency or sense of "this is what I'm working on." Then my bff's birthday came around mid-summer and I thought, "I want to make her something."
That led to several agonizing days of trying to figure out what to make since I didn't have materials I was regularly working with or ideas or themes I was exploring.
I was working on nothing, exploring no ideas nor sketching at all.
Last semester the art department received an email from Penny's husband, sharing that he wanted to donate her art supplies to students and/or the department.
A few days later I was in Penny's studio among her epic collection of art supplies. She was once an art student where I am currently an art student. She was also a non-traditional, older student — returning in her 50's (me in my mid-40's).
Penny was prolific, with a delicate and focused eye. Her paintings, ceramics and fabricated dollhouses are so fucking amazing.
I cried as I thumbed through her drawings and sorted through her materials, in large part because she didn't learn until later in her life that she even had talent. Her parents didn't share that her teachers had encouraged them to have her pursue art until she was a grown lady with a family.
emerging ideas
At the time of her husband's email, I didn't have many supplies at home which was a main obstacle to exploring outside of class WHAT MY ART EVEN IS, I say with emphasis because my god it's been a whole thing to conceptualize what I'm doing let alone know how to do it and with what.
A week before my visit to Penny's studio, I received the last bit of money from my mom's estate, $318 which I planned to spend on an easel.
In addition to wanting more materials to experiment with, I wanted foundational supplies from which to support experimenting with ease: To be able to wake up, walk into my office and make art without barriers.
Among Penny's materials, I found a shiny red plein air easel. I had been planning on a wooden studio easel, but this was cute and without a doubt the easel my mom would have bought if she were into buying easels.
I was reluctant to ask about it because I was gratefully bringing so many of Penny's supplies home — pencils, watercolors, a wooden box with 3 perfect drawers for small objects, a box of 118 pastels she'd never had a chance to open.
He insisted.
a shiny red easel
My friend's birthday has come and gone, and I've yet to give her a a piece of my art because I keep catching waves of ideas and themes, and yet to land on the piece for her.
I started tinkering with Penny's Holbein watercolors, which I'd had on my list but couldn't justify since I don't know how to watercolor yet. I know I know, but they're so nice and expensive, I've thought that should use the cheap stuff while I learn.
Turns out, the good stuff makes watercoloring way more enjoyable.
In early Spring I had an assignment where I gathered data about what is giving people both hope and despair (I conceptualized it before the horrors had gotten as quantifiably horrific as they have are right now.) I channeled everyone's responses into a piece that was received well in class. I used charcoal and oil pastel — a glimmer of WHAT MY ART EVEN IS. I'll share it publicly in due time.
Penny's watercolors led to a dozen or so obsessive triangle pieces which led to a current dry pastel triangle obsession.
I'm using Penny's box of 118 pastels and can't get enough. They behave similarly to charcoal, which I love.
I'm moved by the idea that Penny is alive and well in my studio.
I'm also hoping to land the birthday gift plane soon.
our pastels
If you've read this far, I love you, and maybe you want to know how all this pertains to my earlier thought, "The cost of doing business like they do."
Here's how I see it.
Seven years ago I started my business and grew it with my heart. Gathering people. Hosting workshops. Leading cohorts. Designing retreats. Facilitating strategy sessions. Coaching breakthroughs. Cultivating collaborations. Creating products.
I calibrated constantly to WHAT FELT GOOD.
I took a stance against responding to RFPs. If people wanted me facilitate their thing, we'd have convo and if was a good fit I'd send a contract not a proposal.
I created whatever inspired idea came to me. A book. A journal. A retreat. A gathering. A t-shirt.
I only worked with people with whom I shared deeply held values, from clients to collaborators.
I've surprised and delighted myself. I've learned so much.
Broken down and put myself back together dozens of times. I got lost a few times, but kept finding my way back.
I heard a multi-multi-million dollar entrepreneur say something to the effect of, "Entrepreneurship is the most spiritual and personal growth journey anyone will go on." That is the motherfucking truth.
I've created things people love. I've created plenty of things people didn't resonate with.
I've got ideas all over my walls right now I will get to eventually.
Over the past 7 years, I've connected with my calling on a deep, ancient level. Until the day I die, I will create meaningful and memorable experiences in one way or another.
I've also danced with the devil. She's very dangerous and extremely seductive. I've been hurt by her enough times to stop going back expecting something different.
I don't do business how they do it. I can't exploit my calling or someone else's pain. I can't grow grow GROW above all else.
I want to continue growing as a person first. An artist second. A healer and helper third. Very put-your-mask-on-before-helping-your-neighbor energy.
I can't help if I can't breathe.
I read a post yesterday about how fucked up it is that we're at the mercy of 8 miserable billionaires when there is so much food, house, clothing and money that could be distributed across the planet making everyone whole, safe, fed and well for generations.
I've been holding on my heart how much I love to help, problem solve and be a thought partner for others' exciting ideas — and how much I need this in my life right now. I have my people, I love them (I love you!) — and, I need to expand my vulnerability and asks because my oxygen supply is dangerously low.
How can I help you? How can you help me? How can we help each other?
We cannot do this thing alone. Life.
I'm in the midst of pivoting Mariposa Strategies in a big way right now now. I'll share how and my learnings along the way over time, which this pivot will take. Time.
Right now, I need some help.
Here's how you can help me:
I'm in search of a remote-first Strategy or Culture role where I can help a creative, mission-driven team thrive. Here's my portfolio and resume. gulp In the meantime, I'm open to contract and interim opportunities.
Please keep my name and portfolio in your back pocket. I welcome links to stuff that make you think of me! Email or text anytime.
Here's how I can help right now:
My #1 private coaching service meets you exactly where you're at. Private strategic thought partnership for your life, career or business. It's gotten so popular over the years because we all just need things to be easy. I have room for 2 new people now in the second half of August.
The Culture Club is a glorious community of people who are going through change. The Founders group of 30 range from their 20's to 60's, 9-to-5 jobbers to business owners, no college degree to PhD, with legit authentic hearts. Join the waitlist — new members will be invited to join in 2026, and perhaps for a special gathering this Fall.
If you want to collaborate on an RFP, hit me up.
If you need a recommendation, hit me up. I know many people in many different arenas.
Me capturing "Intergalactic," charcoal on paper 2024. Inspired by a dream I had in 2022 during a dark time, an O'Keefe piece and the Beastie Boys.
There you have it. Doing business differently I'll say.
I hope you have a wonderful Sunday. Matt and I are off to hike. I hope you do something lovely before the day is over.
With love, Annie
A mix of Resources & Fun Things I want to share
Stress and Burnout resource I created for a team last year that I've had to send to so many people recently.
p.s. If you're going to the Blossom & Bones festival next month, I have for sale a 3-night "improved RV camp spot no electric" there at Ghost Ranch by the good bathrooms. :) You could car camp! Doesn't include festival passes — you'd need the 2-day pass since the RV spot includes access the first night. $225 obo (paid $260)