There is an incongruence here. Prepare yourself. 

On the one hand, yes I would LOVE for you to grab the 2024 Paris Planner for you and all the people on your list while you’re over at Amazon taking care of Black Friday business. Please yes! Give them the gift of Paris art all year long.

The 2024 Paris Planner is especially nice for the 2024 Olympics in Paris.

Just sayin’. Makes you look extra thoughtful and au courant.

(Also the photos of the interior pages are over at Amazon. Interior pages are very important and were fuelled by author enthusiasm.)

Now for the incongruent portion of today’s blog post… 

On the other hand, I just filled up my shopping cart over on Amazon and thought… PLASTIC CRAP. Do children like anything that isn’t large, plastic and garish?

This is the only problem with having a six year old. The toys!

She chose that outfit herself to meet Santa. That has Mr. Dressup Influence all over it. Speaking of…

I cried at the documentary. I cried OUT LOUD. There was snot. It’s not even sad, just super nostalgic and lovely. Christophe was baffled. But I was all “He’s why we have a TICKLE TRUNK!!!!!”

If you don’t know Mr. Dressup and his children’s TV show that went on forever… but also never long enough… boy oh boy have you missed out. Solid fail on  a successful childhood for you. Sorry.

He was the original crafty character. The original drawer of all the things. The man who had an outfit for every occasion. This guy had it all. The looks. The charm. There was even charisma oozing out of the eyes of the owl on his wall.

That owl opened it’s eyes and spoke, but only once in a blue moon. Still, you were always ready just. in. case.

Mr. Dressup was the best part of childhood. I don’t even remember any of the crap we got for Christmas… (sorry mommmm).

Wait. One year (my mother will not like this either)… one year, my dad who was notoriously not interested in Christmas shopping, bought me a ream of printer paper.

I know this choice might make him sound like a lame hang.

However, it was seriously the best gift. All I ever did was draw. A fresh stack of 500 printer sheets ALL FOR ME. So fresh and new and full of possibility. This was in the olden days, before there were 50 shade of white. Brilliant, indeed.

It was a marvellous artsy Christmas vacation.

My mom bought me a camera and I almost died from bliss. 

It was a foretelling of the future. How could they have known I would turn out to be a drawer and painter and picture taker and writer!?

So I’m trying to foretell the future around here. Trying to get my kid something that is very HER.

We ran into some POSCA paint markers while I was scouting for pressies.

Oh my stars. So opaque! So gloriously opaque! They came home with us because we both wanted to tear them open and start drawing.

At the end of a day filled with 1) Santa 2) Seeing her friends 3) Shopping, I asked her what the best part of the day was and she said without a pause:

“The paints.”

Yeah. The paints.

I suggest you get yourself some art supplies and pick up the 2024 Paris Planner as a kind of artsy kit for an artsy friend.

And because someone always asks at this time of the year, get these paints:

This is the set of Winsor & Newton paints I use to paint all my letters, art, everything.

I’ve added a few hues along the way, and replaced a few, but honestly this kit… purchased over a decade ago is still going strong. I could probably paint another three books. *shameless plug*

Listen. The paint kit is pricey. However, there is nothing worse than a waxy paint that doesn’t actually paint colour. We’ve all been to the Dollar Store, eyeing up some watercolour kit, thinking that will solve it. It doesn’t. It only makes things worse. However, hot tip, all my Paris Letters were painted on cheap watercolour paper from places like the Dollar Store and they turned out okay. Best to splurge on the paint and cheap out on the paper. 

At the beginning of painting, you need a lot of paper for practicing. Don’t want to get too precious about the paper. But the paints? Ahh yeah. The good stuff lasts so long and it is so satisfying that it even makes that cheap paper look good.

What would young Janice want for Christmas this year?

(You know this girl has Paris dreaming on her mind… or the 2024 Olympics… or maybe it’s just me acting as a billboard around town.)

Get yourself a copy… and heck, buy one for your favourite Francophiles. They are available over at Amazon. 

Janice

PS I’m required to mention that there are affiliate links. Buzz kill but know you know. Thanks for clicking.

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I think the best part of my job is when the new books are delivered. I get to see them in all their full glory.

Behold the 2024 Paris Planner, now available on Amazon.

Today is the perfect day to buy your 2024 Planner. When all the people buy on the same day, it tickles the algorithm in favour of the author more than when you buy whenever you want… but buying it later is good, too. Obvs.

So no pressure, but now would be great if you plan on planning anything in 2024.

Plus, it’s nice to look ahead because 2023 is turning out to be a bit of a stink-fest, globally speaking.

Here’s how it came together: An idea, a notion, a few clicks here and there, walks oh so many walks, journal writing, pondering, painting, meditating, clicking, finding, scouring really… all of it finally became THE THING to hold in the hand. And this thing is a BEAUTY.

Of course it includes a bunch of new Paris paintings, and a few oldies but goodies…

I added some whimsical fonts and font styles because we could ALL be adding some whimsy to our lives these days.

You know you’ll have a nicer January when this bouncy cheerful title greets you at the beginning of the month:

Not to mention the hues. Oh my goodness I had fun adding browns and greens and blues… and pinks and yellows. Cheerful is the plan, people. Cheerful is what we need.

I like… big… squares and I cannot lie:

And ample space for daily bouts of brilliance:

I tossed in a few colouring pages because we could use some anxiety reducing activities. The back of the colouring pages has lined paper so you can:

1. Colour the scene
2. Write a letter on the back and detach
3. Send it off to someone who needs fun mail

How artistique!

Have some literary inspiration with Shakespeare and Company bookstore…

I’m so flipping thrilled with this 2024 planner. I know it seems a bit early, but when I spotted a 2024 planner display at my local paper shop I SEETHED with jealousy, then got busy making my own.

Creativity tip: Jealousy is a useful guidance tool. It really shows you want you want in a gnarly-talons-out-flaring-nostrils kind of way.

(You know this girl has Paris dreaming on her mind… or the 2024 Olympics… or maybe it’s just me acting as a billboard around town.)

Get yourself a copy… and heck, buy one for your favourite Francophiles. They are available over at Amazon. 

PS The planner also includes a page on wrapping up your 2023 End of Year Progress and pondering 2024 Goals for the Year so you can start playing with your planner right away. FUN!

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Sometimes I get sad that I’ll never have the time to read all the books that I want to read. Equally, I get sad at the thought of not rereading the books I love. So when I discovered that it has been 20 years since Eat, Pray, Love came out, I thought it was time for a reread. The new books in my TBR stack can wait.

Twenty years since I walked into a bookstore in Santa Monica, picked it up, read the first chapter, then the next, then next, and finally bought it.

I read it when my friend Ned died, using it to push against (and hide behind) harsh realities of life and death.

I finished it while my niece was learning to walk. Now she’s in university.

I read it again in French when I spotted the translation in a bookstore in Paris.

I referred to it when writing Paris Letters.

And on the day my book launched, I was attending her speaking event where I was able to give her my book.

I also got her to autograph the French version of Eat, Pray, Love. FUN!

So I am having another go at Eat, Pray, Love… to kind of begin the next 20 years of creative living.

Santa Monica… Paris… Canada… where next?

You might groan. Ugh… Eat, Pray, Love… talk about OVER SATURATION. Even she admits that the success of it went a bit far. But it afforded her future time where she could write what she wanted to write without having to worry about cash. That’s nice. That’s the goal.

That’s so much of the creative life. You make something and sell it in order to buy yourself future time to make something else to sell to do it all again. And you try to do it fast in order to keep rolling in the creativity before the money runs out. It’s an interesting dance.

I’ve been hanging out in Etsy doing just that for over a decade… from big paintings to Paris Letters to painted storefronts. Here is #23 of 100.

(UPDATE: This sold but there are others available on Etsy. Watch the Making-Of videos on Instagram. This bistro is like a carnival with those striped umbrellas)

I can tell you one thing: Reading books begets writing books. I can’t imagine reading a book without taking notes. It’s even hard to believe that people just… read books… like, without a journal and pen nearby.

If you’re the type to read and want to write, check out my writing courses. They’ll help. They’re on sale because I just like the price. Not too much. Not too little. Just enough to get some skin in the game so the students actually do the course.

A student recently sent me a book she wrote after taking the courses.

The courses came from writing my own books.

The book writing came from reading books like Eat, Pray, Love.

Amazing how that happens. The world really is a carnival.

Janice

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Another blog post. Another blogger waxing poetic about autumn.

That’s how I wanted to start. Go on about cool mornings and chunky sweaters. That’s how all of us bloggers-vloggers-social-media-painted-nails-and-flowy-dress types start our September blog posts.

We are autumn people.

I’m starting to realize that autumn is all about calming down already. Summer and all that beach sand. Too much pressure to make the most of it.

Here at the homestead I have been meandering in the garden. The dill is pretty in the pink morning light so I leave it. The bees are still involved with the dahlias so I leave them, too. The zinnias just never stop so I let them continue.

I’ve left my garden alone much of the season. Yanking out only the most embarrassing of the weeds.

It’s working out.

The key is to have a high fence to keep the neighbours from wondering. Speaking of, one of my neighbours passed away recently. HOLY TALK OF THE TOWN. This person who was always on the periphery of my mind, and literally on the periphery of my property, suddenly became the forefront of our days. I learned so much about this person in one week: her kids, her grandkids, heartburn, painting, video games, clothing, pillow propping, tracing paper, throw rugs, black book, will, choir practice, knees… a collage of a random bits discovered in passing.

It was a beautiful life.

She would laugh at all the random bits I picked up between the last day and funeral day. The things people drop.

While life was happening, so was the 100 Painted Storefronts of Paris Project. All are in the Etsy Shop if you are in the market for paintings to adorn your walls:

I also added a custom listing if you’re looking for something specific, or if you show up to Etsy to buy one of these and it is already gone. No worries. Nothing to fret over. If I did it once, I can do it again. Probably better. Just pull out that chunky sweater and act as if you are the living embodiment of fall itself.

Watch the Making-Of videos on Instagram. Fun!

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September changes things. We don’t think we are susceptible to the change, that we won’t fall for it this time, but resistance is futile.

Suddenly it’s cinnamon. 

Didn’t think twice about this cozy spice a few months ago. Now it’s everything.

I’ve been plugging away at the 100 Paris Storefronts project. It’s slower going than I thought it would.

I wish I could draw faster.

I wish I could paint faster.

I wish I could make videos faster.

I feel like a fail when I see just how long it takes me to draw, what is in essence, an elaborate series of rectangles and plants.

Speaking of plants, I’ve been loitering around a corner of my garden. I call it My Failure Garden. It’s a new space where I jammed in a bunch of perennials I was given from a friend. I’m not sure what to do with this corner so I just stare at it and beat myself up over the hodgepodge-ness and weeds.

I navel gaze in front of this space and feel all the feels.

At first I felt bad about it.

I know. Shocking.

But as I walk away from My Failure Garden, I feel lighter. Sometimes we need to give ourselves space for emotions. I happen to have a physical space. Turns out.

Conversely, my little acre of Instagram is brimming with fun little videos showing the painting of Paris storefronts for my 100 Day Challenge… not really 100 days. It’s more like 100 THINGS challenge.

Life. A mixed bag.

Here are the latest Paris storefronts, all available on Etsy if you’re so inclined to have a piece of original art lovingly gazing at you from your wall. (I didn’t link the images to the Etsy shop because it’s annoying for if you want to share them on Pinterest. I can’t keep track of the social needs of my people.)

#16 Boris Boulangerie

48 Rue Caulaincourt, 75018 Paris

#17 Angelina Café

226 Rue de Rivoli, 75001 Paris

#18 Yellow Tucan Café

20 Rue des Tournelles, 75004 Paris

A few others are kicking around the Etsy shop as well. You go there. I’ll go back to drawing. Deal? Deal.

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The novelty of summer has worn off.

We are all back from vacation, have stopped analyzing our tan lines, stopped making big plans and haven’t seemed to make it much further than our front porch.

We’re fine with it.

August exists as a way to prepare us for the end of summer.

It’s still warm yet mornings have a new chill in the air and we find ourselves scrounging around the back of our closets for a sweater. “I know I left it here somewhere back in May.”

We are ready.

August filled us with tomatoes and peaches, given us bloom after bloom, and a tree of apples to pick. We’ve had our fill. We are ready for pants and socks again.

On this last week of August we are on butterfly watch. Last year we had a caterpillar on our dill plant. We had high hopes but he was suddenly gone, likely a bird snack. We have so many birds here. We are near a World Biosphere Reserve, which sounds very grand, bit it’s the same place it has always been except now it includes a big sign stating its status. We have a point of land jutting out in Lake Erie. Unimaginatively called Long Point. Birds from way up north fly down, rest here, fly to the end of the point, rest again, then take a big flight over the lake to the USA. The American Dream bird-style.

So we have a lot of birds interrupting our butterfly experiments.

This year we improved our methods by capturing a caterpillar and trapping it in a container designed for such things. Added milkweed. Waited. Nature takes a long time when you’re watching it. Waiting for water to boil and all that. You want to poke it.

We’ve given up on mowing the grass often as well.

It stays longer for, well, longer. Mowing it right before the neighbours start to talk. A century from now, lawn mowing machines will be in museums and those of us living through the 21st century will be seen as barbaric. Trying to control nature.

Lawns will be a cacophony of wildflowers and our garden goal will be to avoid monocultures (like grass) from taking over. The younger generation will scoff down at us from their high horses. How could you have mown the lawn?! I won’t leave notes for historians to find regarding our butterfly-to-be in captivity.

My routine has altered slightly due to my 100 Painted Storefronts Project.

Get up. Sketch. Sleep. Get up. Paint. Sleep. Get up. Post. Sleep. Repeat.

Discipline is not a bad thing. It is the fastest way to improvement and that is juice to keep the project rolling along. I’m wild about getting better at these storefronts so I can get faster at making them. So many storefronts, so little time! I don’t think I’m alone here in missing vibrant streets filled with open stores.

Find more at the Etsy Shop. And watch the nice Making Of videos at Instagram @janicemacleodauthor.

I spent about two years fretting about making videos. Then about an hour doing it. So it takes about two years and an hour for me.

I’ve also had some requests by people who have great taste in storefronts. There are some beauties out there. If you have requests or just know of fantastic storefronts, let me know in the comments.

Now back to painting and butterfly watch.

Janice

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Eleven glorious days into my self-inflicted 100 Day Project and I already went from wanting to crawl under the couch and hide to full on INSPIRED. (Scroll to the bottom for a colouring page.)

My word for the year is Finishing. Finishing projects. One of my lingering projects was to post my original paintings on Etsy. I have posted a few along the way, but the pile was immense and the enthusiasm for listing them was not.

Most of them sit quietly in binders, murmuring together in my office.

Evidently, I preferred to shroud myself in a thick, suffocating TO DO list called GOTTA-GET-TO-IT than actually getting to it.

Now it’s August. I needed a boost of enthusiasm for the task. I really don’t care to take this task into next year. So I made a 100 Day Project out of it.

What is a 100 Day Project?

A 100 Day Project is something you do every day for 100 days. Sounds simple enough. Its roots are in the creativity and design world, so visual places like Instagram are littered with art that people are sharing as part of their 100 Day Projects. Go ahead and follow me over at Instagram to watch this 100 Day Project unfold.

But a 100 Day Project doesn’t have to be art. It can be anything. Something to add to your life. Something to take away. For 100 days in a row.

The big idea is to pursue more of what you want in your life. To become more of the person you want to be. And in my case, to get the art in my head (and office) out to the world.

So I created some fun packages on my Etsy shop:

Each package includes:

1. An original piece of art (some from my books, some new)
2. A typewritten letter from one of my vintage typewriters
3. Some ephemera… postcards, sketches, etc…

A whole envelope of good times.

It’s fun whipping them up, matching ephemera with paintings, writing about it all.

I’m also getting to master all kinds of uncomfortable skills.

…kind of a dread at imagining what Package 65 will be when already I feel liked I’ve lived a lot of lives by Package 11. Makes me want to take up nail biting.

A few lessons I learned that you might find helpful if you do 100 Day Project:

• I stopped focusing on the whiny little voices in my head. Instead of saying, “I don’t know HOW,” or “I don’t know WHAT,” or “This is LAME,”or “LATER” it says “Get this DONE.” Turns out, it doesn’t so much matter if it’s good. It matters that it’s done.
• I learn what I really like. Turns out, I love love LOVE painting storefronts. I think it’s why I fell so hard for Paris. The whole city is choked full of pretty storefronts and cafés all lined up like treasure chests full of shiny pretty things.
• I accept… finally… the truth. If I haven’t completed some paintings by now, there is something about them I don’t want to finish. They have already fulfilled their destiny as Paris Letters or elements in the books. They aren’t meant for a second call of duty.

Binder grumbles.

You’d think I would know by now what makes me tick.

The Paris Letters… ohhhh they made me tick. That was good times. But making these letter packages makes me tick as well. And painting storefronts is teeth tingling good times.

This is an Italian food shop on my street in Paris. I loved painting all the little jars.

Here’s the sketch if you’d like to try it, too:

Okay. Eleven down, 89 to go. Wish me luck!

To watch the progress and/or buy those featured in this post, head over to the Etsy shop. Only 130 days until Christmas. I’m also making videos of The 100 Day Project over on Instagram. Follow me there for a video version of all these.

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The poppies revealed themselves in April. Self-seeded. Volunteers. I thought… well, HELLO and THANKS.

A few years ago I was at the library book sale, which is so good it is dangerous. Outside was a garden where poppies were sashaying in the breeze. Oh hi! So friendly. So bright.

I picked a seed head and snuck it into my pocket. Was I stealing? Maybe. It felt a little like stealing… not unlike the library book sale. So many books. So little room in my car. So little room in my day!

I came home and scattered them in my garden. The seeds. Not the books. Nothing happened. It really didn’t feel like stealing after nothing happened.

I moved on with my life. This year, those poppies showed up. Great big billowing poppies. Gorgeous and tall and proud. Well, HELLO and THANKS.

There was about a week of this glorious morning salut. Then the rain came and pummelled the whole lot of them to the ground.

We needed the rain. We really did. But did the rain have to pummel my poppies?

So I had to rip them out. Believe me when I tell you I tried to save them. Standing them up, wishing and hoping. Fretting. But you can’t fix a broken stem. (Saved the seed heads… I’m not insane.) In the meantime, a friend had some plants that needed separating, so while the rain was pouring on one side of the house, I was unloading a car full of plants on the other side of the house.

Now I have a free space where the poppies were and BOOM, it’s filled.

This weird phenomena has been happening lately.

A strange spiritual balancing out.

I buy a friend a coffee. I get a coffee from another friend.

I give a book away. I get a book.

I send a letter. I get a letter.

I even separated and gave away some of the plants in my garden. Now I have just as many but different plants from another garden.

And it’s not all with the same person.

This doesn’t mean I’m getting ahead. Not by a long shot.

But it does feel like there is a sort of play happening with something or someone beyond myself. An Even-Steven game. It also feels like waiting. Like I’m being both sustained and held back so that perfect timing can reveal itself later.

I’m aware that I’m being a bit woo-hoo about all this.

I suppose those poppies weren’t really self-seeded. They were seeded by me a few years ago. It’s just that I forgot that I had a hand in the process.

Cut to today. I’m taking some art classes and figuring out the next series of courses I’ll be offering. They are free courses, hence kind of boring.

We need some skin in the game to be motivated.

But these classes are a sort of poppy seed. I’m also spending my days finishing things. My word for 2023 is FINISHING. I have had so many half finished projects in the last few years. Things stopped for one reason or another (lockdowns, illness, surgery, laundry).

I learned that how to finish something is to stop NOT finishing something.

Yes, to finish something you need to STOP not finishing the thing.

It’s a whole other ballgame to just sit with a project once it hits the boring or frustrating bit and continue on until it’s complete.

So I practiced finishing. I finally reupholstered the bench, finished the book, dealt with the pile of papers, painted the frame, hung the photo, finished the puzzle, organized the shelf, even watching a movie all the way to the end.

In all this, I learned just how scattered my brain has become. Is it parenthood? Age? Some sort of long Covid symptom? Long chemo symptom? Endless doom scrolling?

Short attention-span theatre.

That’s what my world has become. What my brain has become. But that’s not how things get done. Things get done by sustained energy toward one project until it has arrived at its final format. This is what I am relearning. I was good at it before. Then I picked up my phone.

Where was I?

So yeah. Poppies. There is a metaphor in there somewhere. Oh yeah, poppies represent REMEMBERING. I forgot. But that’s my practice lately. Sustained attention toward a thing. Remembering to complete.

It’s all so obvious now. My friend Pete once told me this: “Let the seeds fall where they may. Let God take care of the rest.” I suppose that’s the lesson these days. Scattered seeds. Scattered projects. Scattered mind. If you’re feeling the same, know that there is a BECOMING of something on the horizon. Something is about to bloom.

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Simon writes me a letter. It is in response to the letter I sent him in the mail from my manual typewriter. He writes back on paper, scanning it in and emailing it to me.

It’s his little revolt against the inefficiency. I’m aware. I’m amused.

This is how we play.

In his letter, he compliments me on my prolific tendencies. How I have manage to create so many things and send them out there in the world to live their glorious little lives.

Yet the thought made me want to go lay in bed with a wet washcloth on my forehead.

Because lately I have been floundering. It is unpleasant. Uncomfortable. Irritating.

In the pursuit of creative endeavours, it is easy to glorify productivity and efficiency, leaving little room for accepting the messiness and murkiness of floundering and wasting time. Even by the artist herself! Yet, within the tapestry of the creative process, these seemingly unproductive moments are often irritatingly necessary.

My floundering has been akin to a blank page. Writer’s block. Whatever you want to call it. I am not sure how to snap out of it, or even if I should. Am I just waiting for a wave to come my way?

This has been a long spell.

Now that our minds are mush from scrolling through social media, the world wide web has given us AI so we can be spoon fed thoughts we used to make for ourselves. I asked AI about creativity and floundering in the tone of Janice MacLeod.

AI told me this and I was all, “Aw shucks, thanks robot.”

“Janice MacLeod, a dream-chaser and masterful artist of life’s everyday adventures, invites us to embrace the magic found in wandering aimlessly through the corridors of our imagination. She reminds us that creativity thrives in the uncharted territories of our minds, where time is an elastic concept, and rules are mere suggestions. Like a carefree wanderer, we must grant ourselves permission to flounder, trusting that within the maze of uncertainty lies the spark of inspiration.”

The AI robot sure is wordy. Makes me seem like an overall wearing paint splatter smiley faced lady who skips off to the farmers market and sits in cozy nooks of bookstores in the rain.

Not entirely inaccurate, but the actual me LATELY has been spending months trying and flailing and working full days and coming up with nothing to show for it.

It’s all rather unpleasant.

This is what floundering looked like today:

1. The plan is to make a video for my new course coming out (at some point, based on degree of aforementioned floundering).
2. Record a video to check lighting and sound. Unacceptable.
3. Take shower, do hair, put on full makeup, find very filtery filter even though nothing is wrong with my face… and yet… could be better.
4. Discover the audio could better as well. Scrounge around in basement to look for microphone. Find random cords that might be useful. Bring them upstairs. Also find a ring I lost. It’s tarnished.
5. Spend 20 minutes polishing ring.
6. Can’t find original microphone. Use another microphone I found while looking for first microphone.
7. Record second video to check lighting and sound again. Good.
8. Look out window. Rain is coming.
9. Take dog out for a walk… dog sitting today.
10. Get caught in rain. Now have wet dog.
11. Rather than fix rainy hair and makeup, take off all nice “video” clothes and put on loungewear. The magic is over.
12. Watch garden show.
13. Decide I can’t just make a video off the cuff. When I do that my eyes dart all over the place and I look like a clown. Will need to write a script.
14. Turn on computer to make script.
15. Check stats on blog instead. Decide it’s time to write a blog post, but on what?
16. Write blog post.

Not entirely wasted. I did a blog post.

And this is coming from me. ME!?! Miss Fancy Pants Author and Artist of bladiddi bla bla all the things.

I’m sitting here in my house afraid that this floundering is really aging, fearful that this is the new me. Blaming health issues of the past. Blaming time going by. Did I have a Best Before date? Am I no longer my best?!?!? Is my brain getting soft? What does that even mean?

This is the panic behind the loafing.

They say all this idle time is about allowing ideas to germinate and blossom so we can pluck them like wildflowers from the meadows of our thoughts and transform into art. These phases are actually nurturing respites that replenish our creative well. We are to embrace the gentle chaos.

I dunno. Sounds like something AI would say.

I’m not really looking for an answer here. I’m just throwing this out there, that if you are dancing the floundering dance, you’re not alone. Later, when we shake it off, maybe we will look back and know what it was all about.

While we are here, know that we are in it together.

Janice

PS: Mother’s day special, get 20% off everything in the Etsy shop until May 15th. Get your mother something nice and Paris-y:

1. Paris Letters:  I’ll pop the prettiest personalized letters in the mail for your mom. We’ll be besties in no time.
2. Paris Art: Canvas and paper prints to adorn walls and keep the Paris dream alive.
3. Paris Notebooks: Writing journals with spirals and pockets! It’s like the best A-line dress but as a journal.

The post The Dance of Floundering: Nurturing Creativity or Wasting Time appeared first on .

This is not the scientific study you’re expecting. But it is what to expect when you quit eating sugar.

Stage 1: Loopholes

When you stop eating sugar you start looking for ways to eat sugar. You start making “rules” about what is “good” or “bad” to eat… honey to stevia to “only a scoop in my morning shake.” Benefits outweigh the risks, yadda yadda. There is an inner teacher watching your every move and you are justifying them all. Honey is natural. Sugar cane is natural. Where do you draw the line? They are both sugar.

Stage 2: Sadness

Sugary foods are called treats for a reason. Pops of happiness that bring you the dopamine which brings you the good feels. When you can’t get your hits of dopamine through sugar, you start looking elsewhere and dive deeper into side addictions. You watch if the stock went up or down, the sales went up or down, the scale went up or down. (By the way, you might actually lose weight, but I wouldn’t know as I don’t weigh myself as a self-care rule. I don’t wear pants that will hurt my feelings either.)

Stage 3: Adulting

You will shift from the student facing the teacher (but it’s just HONEY) to becoming the teacher yourself. You will, in essence, decide to put on your big girl pants and just accept that sugar isn’t an option for now.

Stage 4: Anger

You will start defending your rights to eat sugar… to yourself. (I’m an adult so quit bossing me around!) You should get to do what you want. FREEDOM!!!!

Stage 5: Eating iCandy

You will start watching cooking shows and pay special attention to the cake decorating segment… while eating carrots and apple slices, and seething… having established the sugar from fruit and vegetables as permissible during the loopholes in Stage 1.

Stage 6: Wait

For 30 days to end. You will wait 100 days for that 30 days to be done.

Stage 7: Wonder

You wonder if it’s working… this self-imposed no sugar situation. Is it doing what it promised? Whatever that means to you. For me, I think a lot about Ukraine… citizens and soldiers who don’t have chocolate treats to actively avoid. Oh my sweet, silly, luxurious little problems… not getting sugar in my tea when so many don’t have sugar or hot water OR CLEAN WATER.

So I suppose, as a Lenten project, the No Sugar is working. It sure feels like I’m wasting away. My spirit is sagging. A priest once said “Lent is not Weight Watchers,” but I find there is rich material to be unearthed in this project. All kinds of room to think, to appreciate, to wait forever. Gosh… you think you don’t have time on your hands. Try giving up sugar. There is PLENTY OF TIME all laid out right in front of you where you get to practice restraint and discipline while you observe the snags in your soul. Good times.

One of the biggies is when I go shopping as part of a tiresome household maintenance task. I don’t want to go to the pharmacy. I don’t want to do the big grocery trip. I DON’T WANNA! So when I am there, I get me some peanut buttercups and cheer myself up in the car.

But no cheerful peanut buttercups for me, and that makes me Stage 2 through 6. Again.

Ugh!

Will I keep at it? This No Sugar thing. Yeah, probably.

Even though I’m in the middle of the sucky part, I can tell it’s a good thing to not be on the rollercoaster ride that comes with sugar hits throughout the day. Right now is not fun, but it is… better. She admits grumpily. 

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