Thinking Like an Olympic Champion

untitled, collage by Leslie Avon Miller, 6 inches by 6 inches

Watching the Olympics I am intrigued by the glimpses we get into the process of each athlete. The way they “psych” themselves up for their events; the way they handle the moments before they launch into their program or start their race; their response to winning and not winning. Obviously, these athletes have benefited from what we know about positive attitudes and optimum performance.

So what am I observing that might be of benefit to my own creative practice? This is what I see:

Celebrate and enjoy that you made it this far!

Strive for your Personal Best.

Peak performance is enhanced by

Knowing yourself
Developing a strong support team – even in an individual sport
Honing your skills and accepting feedback exclusively from very trusted sources
Replacing negative self talk with positive self talk
Being very clear about your life purpose at this point in time
Surrounding yourself with others who use positive talk
Taking responsibility
Eliminating what does not serve your purpose
Letting go of what can’t be controlled – for instance other people and their reactions and comments
Knowing that silver and bronze are beautiful
Having commitment
Working your way back after a set back
Knowing that finishing the race is its own reward
Knowing that if you fall down, you can get back up

Graciousness is appealing no matter the color of the medal. Taking time to applaud and recognize others is part of a positive experience. Being a little sassy, a lot confident, and having fun belong in your practice. Take a victory lap. Celebrate. Smile really big.

Then get back to the work you love. Some things are better than gold.

What are you seeing in the Olympic athletes that you might use in your creative practice?

Ring the Bell for Barry

Untitled as of yet, 6 inch by 6 inch collage by Leslie Avon Miller.




Sometimes I am drawn to different blogs for a variety of reasons. One blog I love is An Explorers View of Life, the blog of Barry Fraser. Barry and I both look at the world from the point of view of an explorer.

Barry writes beautifully and tells a good story. So I’ve been following Barry for a good while now. Then one day Barry and my husband had the very same medical procedure on the very same day, but clear across the North American continent from each other.

My husband Kurt’s results were fine, he just needed some treatment. Barry’s results were, frankly, shocking. Barry was diagnosed with cancer. But Barry is a special guy. Throughout all of his treatment, the ups and downs, and life style changes (would you call it a life style change Barry?) Barry has shared on his blog.

Not only have we read about the progress of his medical treatment and the new things he has explored and learned such as meditation and vegetarianism, we have laughed and cried with Barry and his family. And beyond that, I have learned from Barry how to really, really live in the face of cancer. How to embrace the days. And it’s a gift I shall always cherish. Live today, live it fully. Stay curious. See the humor. Cry. Love.

This is what Barry plans:

High on the wall next to the exit from the Chemo Day Care Centre at Princess Margaret Hospital a bell is waiting for me. As I mentioned in my post a week ago Friday, there is a ritual at PMH that those patients completing their last treatment of chemotherapy, ring the bell as they leave.

And whenever it rings the nurses and volunteers and other chemo patients pause for a moment and applaud.

When I finish my last injection of chemo, on Thursday February 18th at about 2pm Eastern Standard Time, I'm also ringing that damn bell!

As loud and as long as I can!

My cancer may not be cured. I may find myself back there again sometime, but for now, at least, I'm declaring victory. After all, you don't have to win the whole war before celebrating victory in battle.



Today Barry completes his chemotherapy. And on his way out the door of the hospital he is ringing the bell. And in his honor, I am ringing my bell for him. God speed my friend. Thank you Barry, for being you.

Studio Space

Untitled Collage, 6 inches by 6 inches, by Leslie Avon Miller

I think of my studio as a vegetable garden, where things follow their natural course. They grow, they ripen. You have to graft. You have to water.

~Joan Miro

Some more progress has been made in the last two weeks on my studio space. Although the physical progress is small, we continue to work on the logistics of the process – who, when and how being our primary questions.

We unloaded two pick up truck loads of sheeting. That’s 72 sheets of wood; 72 trips up and down the stairs. Can you see my biceps flex? Me neither, but I feel powerful having helped with that task! This material (called OSB) will be used for walls and ceiling. The equipment that will assist with this material installation, called a sheet rock lift, has been delivered and assembled.

I appreciate all the good wishes for a quick finish to the studio, but since we only work on this project weekends and we take some weekends off to do other things, I suspect the earliest the studio will be finished enough to move in will be late summer or early fall.

As the project unfolds, I’ll post a few photos. Today’s image is from a couple of years ago when the building was first constructed. My studio is the top floor, this end. Kurt’s woodworking space is on the top floor of this building at the other end.




I added some links to artist studios on my blog side bar. I love to see how other artists arrange and use their space.

It is my pleasure to share with you another art studio tour. This time we are visiting the studio of Rebecca Crowell. I have included here a video of Rebecca working in her studio. When I first saw this video, I knew we were kindred spirits when Rebecca pulled out her whisk broom and used it to create texture. I love to do that too!

It is also interesting to me that Rebecca’s studio and mine are similar in a couple of ways. They are separate buildings but just a short walk away from the house, and they are nearly the same size. We both live in the country and have views of nature out the windows.






Rebecca tells us I love my studio and want to be there almost every day-- and sometimes even in the middle of the night. I am fortunate to be able to work full time as a painter, so I spend a lot of time there.

It's kind of shockingly messy and disorganized to anyone else's eye--although for me it's fine, it's comfortable. (It is a mystery to me why a messy studio is OK with me when I like my house to be neat.) When I'm working I leave a trail of stuff everywhere, and usually have no interest in picking it up.

I have a lot of work in progress at any one time; piles of panels, stuff scattered on various tables and stacked along the walls. I feel engaged as soon as I walk in, so I guess there is some energy in the disorder.

What works best for you about your current studio space?

It's large (about 850 sq. ft.) and well lit with daylight fluorescents. There is one long open wall that I can spread my work in progress out across, then I can back way up for the long view. It's a separate space from the house, but close enough (just across the back yard) to be there in no time at all. We live in the country so there is beauty all around, including a sweet little rock garden just outside the studio door.





What one thing would you change about your current studio space?

I'm going to say two things, because one is already in the works--which is better heat. For over 20 years I've relied on a wood stove in the studio that has to be constantly fed in winter, and it takes quite a while to heat up the space to a comfortable warmth. However, the studio was built with coils for hot water in the cement slab floor...we have not had the resources so far to get the whole system going (which includes a wood-fired outside boiler.) BUT that is going to happen in 2010, or I'm moving to Arizona!

The other thing I would like are proper storage racks for older work--right now it's all just stacked and piled in the back of the studio.


The studio is no more or no less sacred than any other place where people work at what they love. But it is certainly more private than many. My studio feels uniquely mine--coming in to the studio does trigger a shift in awareness towards what I think of as my true, inner self. When other people come into the studio, I am happy to have them yet I do feel slightly nervous and over-exposed.

Rebecca's web site has more information about her work, and her blog has even more images of her studio.

Blog Alert! Can You Help?

Untitled, 6 inches by 6 inches collage by Leslie Avon Miller

Something is going on, and I don’t understand it. I first noticed it in my Dashboard. Maggie at Colormusings blog has had her blog hacked. Someone is able to post multiple posts – ads about Windows products, Viagra, online casinos, etc. Horrid!

I saw these strange goings on and contacted Maggie by email. She has tried to no avail to be able to reach blogger for help. She has removed the offensive posts, but there is no way to know when and if the offenders will strike her blog again – or one of our blogs.

Does anyone out there have any advice? How do you get through to blogger? Has this happened to anyone else? Her ULR is still the same, so I don’t think that is the answer to the problem.

I know all of us would like Maggie to be able to put a stop to this and return to her artful posting, and we would all like to keep our blogs safe and sound from unwanted intruders.

Thanks in advance for any help you can give.

Creative Space

Collage, untitled, 6 inches by 6 inches by Leslie Avon Miller

The studio is less important than other things, like the burning desire to paint. If you don't have this disease, you can't catch it from a nice studio. ~Warren Criswell

My studio is under construction, and I’m feeling a bit displaced. To distract myself, beyond working on small collage, I thought I would see what words of wisdom artists have about their creative space.

Today I am paying a virtual visit to the studio of Cheryl Taves. As luck would have it, Cheryl has just moved her studio. Her long term plans include building a “purpose built, private studio” at her home.

In Cheryl’s words “here's a bit about my studio re-birth. Re-locating my home studio has been such an interesting and revealing experience about the close, connected relationships we artists have with our studio space. The new studio is large and open...too large for just myself, so I'm sharing the space with another artist, Maggie Cole. The first thing we did was separate the space with a free standing partition wall that serves double duty by giving us our privacy while providing us with another wall to work on....plus additional storage on the shelving installed in the returns at either end of the wall.

This new studio had everything I needed for a great working space....and interestingly....and somewhat unexpectedly, I resisted packing up and leaving my old studio for some time after securing the new one. When I did start to dismantle the old studio, I realized that most of the work I had done to date had been generated from within this space...and I was firmly attached. It felt precious, sacred and somehow tearing it apart, a betrayal. I took photographs of this tiny, cluttered, unworkable space to remember it by...and wrote endlessly about the arising feelings in my sketch book/journal. I felt unsettled, anxious and quite lost as the moving process began....and yet, strangely excited about the new beginnings to come.





I took my time and planned the placement of everything into the new space, very carefully and thoughtfully. I knew how I liked to work and what wasn't working for me in the old space could be considered and rectified in the new. I bought new things, de-cluttered and arranged, and re-arranged, everything so it was just as I wanted it. But, I wasn't working there....I didn't feel connected to the space, as yet. I'm working again now, after several weeks of settling in and attaching myself to the space. The more time I spend there and the more of myself I bring into the space, the more my connection deepens. And on those quiet days when no one is around...it's absolutely perfect.

Through this process, what I've come to realize about my studio space is that, for me, there needs to be a perfect blend of access vs. privacy. My old studio was so integrated in to my home (situated in the loft above my living room) that there was not enough privacy at times....and yet, it was so close and easy to go to that art making could happen at any time of day or night...going to the studio meant walking upstairs. But being that accessible meant that phone calls, email, laundry and my husband could all pull me out of my working space all to easily. In the new studio, because it is a destination, I go there to work - no phones, no email and on good days very little interruptions. There is more of a mental transition that happens when I go there to work. It's purposeful and filled with intention. I've been more disciplined with my studio time as a result. But, I find that I don't go there as easily as I would go to my home studio. But when I am there, I'm there for many, long, productive hours.



So, for me, the ideal space is attached to my home, easy to get to and far enough away from household activities that I can work without distraction or interruption. It will have wonderful north facing light and lots of storage for painting supports and supplies. There will be access to the outside, as connection to the ground and garden is really important to me. It will have large walls for working on and a movable central island that will provide a flat surface for working as well as more storage. Thankfully, I have lots of time to plan this new space...and now even more information about my needs due to this recent studio change.

Our studios are such an important part of our art making...the energy of that space should align with what feels right and good for each artist...and that is a very personal thing. For me, a studio should always have a sitting area for reading, writing and contemplation. Our studios are not only for working, but a respite from the normalcy of life...allowing us to drop in to the art-making space within ourselves. I think of it like a vessel...a holding space. Upon entering, there should be a sense of transition, an opening and a quiet comfort....welcome back."

Thank you Cheryl, for allowing us to see your new creative space and hear about the process of settling in to a new space. I am looking forward to seeing your next creative endeavors!