Wednesday, October 4, 2023

Hello from 9 Years + 1 Month in the Future


This morning … October 4, 2023 … I was remembering something that a friend said to me on our most recent weekly conversation. This soul-sister is an extraordinarily talented artist. She told me that when it is time for her to start a new project, she knows that somewhere there is a timeline where the project is finished. So her first step is to connect with her future self and that “somewhere” and then follow the steps backward from there.

Matt and I have been on the road together, doing our flavor of RV-life, since April 28th of this year. But that information barely scratches the surface of how my life has changed (and then changed again) since my last post here on September 4, 2014 … 9 years and 1 month ago.

I did end up going back to visit Mabel’s and Taos with my friend, Frances, back in October 2014. Without any clue that the opportunity was coming, I was compelled to apply for the position of General Manager at Mabel’s when it became available. In April 2015, I moved to Taos and began a life-altering 8-year-long journey serving as steward for this incredible place.

Oh my goodness, there were losses. Dan and I divorced in 2016, months before our daughter graduated from Ohio University. Our house on Heatherglen was sold. Jakk’s Magic Beans Workshop, LLC was dissolved. My mother died of lung cancer in 2017. Phoebe, our greyhound, Garrett and Tansy, our cats, all crossed the rainbow bridge.

But there were so many gifts and blessings to follow. In 2018, I met Matt (my Mateo) … only because he practically showed up at my door at Mabel’s. I was living on-site in the caretaker’s cottage at that time with my two dogs, Ruby and Enzo, and two cats, Mabel and Tony. (Sadly, they’ve since crossed the rainbow bridge as well.) Matt and I had both divorced after 20+ years of marriage, so were moving into our new relationship with awkward edges that somehow helped us to fit together beautifully. Now here we are on this adventure of a lifetime!

This morning, when I was journaling, I decided to apply my artist friend’s technique and try to tap into the timeline where future me is creatively thriving at, in and with what’s next. Well, I should’ve fastened my seatbelt and put on helmet first, because, wow, what a ride. I was nudged to do a Google search for “Magic Beans Workshop.” That is when this blog popped up in the search results. I had forgotten about it over the years. I will be going through the posts in detail to refresh myself, but so far it feels like finding buried treasure. I don’t think I would’ve been ready to revisit these memories before now. 

I have new website (http://www.thisjuliekeefe.com) where I post daily travel logs. There is real estate there for a new blog and more. But it feels right to post this update here (after tracking down my log-in credentials) in case anyone who once followed this blog way back when is glad to receive this update. I am here. All is well. Please feel free to contact me … I’d love to hear from you!

I’m in awe that future me pointed present me back in time so that I could realize that I am the future me for the me I was back then. Maybe I need my Magic Beans Workshop back in my life but this time in mobile form. Time will tell. In the meantime, I am so deeply grateful …

Thursday, September 4, 2014

Day 17,865 Gratitude: That Which Looks Like Progress


The two cats plus the dog have been living here together for years. Each is aging and has their unique issues which typically keep them spread out. This morning, they set them aside for a communal nap. Progress? Maybe so.  Maybe not.

Meanwhile, a block up my street, a parade of heavy equipment clears land that was forest a month ago. I didn't know what was happening until all of the trees were cut down. The sight of them stacked made me sick. The deer that roamed here are gone. The building of new homes will soon commence. Progress? Maybe so. Maybe not.

All around me and within me, there are surprising changes. My stomach hurts often these days. What is it that I'm struggling to digest? Most likely the loss of my ability to know for certain what progress is or to know anything for certain at all. For all of this ... and the eventual making peace with such ... I am so deeply grateful.  

Tuesday, July 29, 2014

Day 17,828 Gratitude: Second Chances


I traveled to Taos in June with the sweetest little handmade journal. I had high desert daydreams about all that I would capture in pen, pencil and paint upon its hand-folded Fabriano pages. Despite big plans, best intentions and the embarrassing fact that I was there for a sketchbook journaling workshop, I only drew three times in that wee book. By "in that wee book," I mean "total." Three sketches. The whole trip.

Granted, I wasn't there for the purpose of filling my own journal but rather in a support capacity to the students, their teacher and the workshop as a whole. The days were lengthy, luscious and active. All that caught my eye imprinted itself upon my memory rather than within the pages of my book. Treasured all the same, but now, with time, harder to retrieve.

But I'm going back.

The last of the reservations were made today for my next visit to Taos in late October. I'm pinching myself at the prospect of introducing a dear friend to this heart home of mine. She has no idea that conditions are favorable for having her soul furniture rearranged. Our four full days there will be spacious with no firm plans but to savor. So I am taking the liberty of tucking this journal back into my travel bag, because I believe in second chances. (And, for the record, second chances for second chances, as may be required.)

For all of this, I am so deeply grateful.

Monday, July 28, 2014

Day 17,827 Gratitude: Perennially Forgotten



Every year, these flowers triumphantly emerge against the back of the house in a long-neglected plot that the previous homeowners had surrendered to mint. This particular patch of earth gets warmed by the morning to early afternoon sun and then agitated by the rumbling heat pump condenser once the AC wins. This is a spot where the dog is prone to sniff and pee. It doesn't register to me as a point on our property inclined toward overt beauty. I always forget. I forget that these flowers will make their fleeting but showy reappearance when July feels wearying and other perennials have opted to fade. They serve to remind me that there is no such thing as a lost cause. Miracles can arise at the oddest times and in the strangest places. For this truth and the reminder of it, I am so grateful.

Wednesday, June 25, 2014

Day 17,794 Gratitude: The End is the Beginning


I would like to say that I'm home, but my heart is in two places ... the Ohio River Valley and Taos, New Mexico. Before I wax poetic about my recent journey, I must first give wholehearted thanks to my husband and daughter who not only tolerate but bless this vision quest that I embark upon each June. They've been around this block with me four years in a row and each time they get a new wife and mama upon my return. Not everyone is so flexible with and trusting of the ones they love. I don't take their support for granted.

Going back to Taos each year is the ultimate surrender. Not only do I get to help by holding the space for those who travel to Amy's Illuminated Travel Journal Workshop, but also by bearing witness to their delightful discovery that this trip is about so much more than drawing. I've also learned that I must go into it with the awareness that what needs to be faced, healed, reconciled within myself awaits me. This is big work, beautifully ugly though it may be. It's an annual exam of sorts ... with a no bullshit clause.

I thought I was ready this year. I really did. Joke was so on me. I wasn't ready. I'll never be ready. There's no telling what will come up or how things will go while I'm there. Thankfully, this year, more than ever, things went swimmingly. What's more, what was wholly unexpected, was Amy's and my deep sense of coming home, being welcomed home. We've had the good fortune of making dearest friends at Mabel's. We've put down roots. Our cooties have found their way into nooks and crannies. The history has seeped into our bones. And every single year it becomes exponentially more difficult to leave.

But leave we did (sigh), only to begin again with the counting of days (349 to date). Waiting is so hard, but in this case beyond worth it. Not that far. Not that hard. Right? That's what I'll keep telling myself in the many months ahead. For this, for all of this. What has been. What will be. I am so deeply grateful.

Wednesday, May 7, 2014

Day 17,745 Gratitude: The Short and Sweet


On this unseasonably warm spring day, gratitude looks a lot like ...

A last minute invitation to take a much needed walk with a friend.

The knowing that I will soon be by the sea.

Letting sleeping dogs lie.

How about you?

Thursday, April 17, 2014

Day 17,725 Gratitude: The Power of 100


On the first of December, 2013, I was inspired to create 100 business card sized (3.5 x 2") collages in 100 days. I called it my "The Power of 100 Project" because I knew that, in the process, I would be making art, yes, but also learning about what makes me tick (and tank) as an artist. It's been an interesting adventure and I continue to explore the layers of all that I've discovered along the way.

So here I am now, with a box of 100 collages ... each one with bits and pieces that tell stories within stories. It seems a shame to keep them packed away. I feel like these wee originals need to make their way into the world and in so doing, if they can also do some good, all the better.

Here's the plan, my friends.  Beginning today, these 100 collages will be listed individually in my Etsy shop for $5 each (with shipping and the swanky card-stock easel included).  Of that $5, I will donate $3 to Visionaries + Voices, a local non-profit that provides representation, studio space, supplies and support to more than 140 visual artists with disabilities in the Greater Cincinnati area.

The collages will be available in the shop for 100 days (until July 25), after which I'll cut the check to V+V. I hope to find homes for every single collage and be able to send them a check for $300.

I will post a few collages per day to the shop, so keep an eye out for your favorite(s). The first three are available now. Feel free to spread the word!  For your on-going support, I am so deeply grateful.