An invitation is an intention isn’t it, one that is shared in a very real way, and counts on others to make it happen? It is a scary thing. Planning and hosting the kids’ birthday parties terrifies me every year. And my first job out of college was planning and hosting alumni events! When it wasn’t “my” event, I guess I didn’t take it personally. In college I too xeroxed things- mine were concert posters I would make out of cut up comic books. I took some art history class about ideas of the “superhuman” and the reader cost maybe $240 dollars- you know the bound collection of photocopies - of comics?! By and far the most expensive “text” I ever purchased in college. And I couldn’t even sell it back after class like a used book! vowed to get my money’s worth out of that thing. So for the next four years I collaged those comics to make posters, for when we hosted bands at my friends’ house. It was really fun- sharing those “invitations” on telephone poles and billboards. Again it wasn’t me inviting people, it was our “show space.” Clearly I am more comfortable asking people to show up when I am issuing the invitation from behind a persona or an entity.
I love that about the posters you used to make. I bet those were fantastic, and yes, that's an interesting form of invitation, too. It makes me think of The Wander Society.... I couldn't help but look at poles as I passed by, just in case.
LOVE THIS! Love the quote you started with, and then there's this:
I’m interested in the subtle ones, the ones where we are reaching out, making connections, standing on a hilltop or amid a thousand trees and putting forth a whisper of an ask, putting a message into a bottle and the bottle into the water.
Maybe you will accept an invitation from me for a guest post when my newsletter "Finding the Sunshine" gets going. I am seeking humor through images/drawings etc. I have no skill that I know of. You've got lots!!!
Thank you so much for reading, Jill, and for singling out that line. I love knowing that had resonance. Your new newsletter sounds great. (I went and read your announcement!) Looking forward to seeing what you have planned!
It is amazing when I come here (or when listening to your podcast) you echo the thoughts in my head. The winding of your words curls around and understanding is met. So eloquently and full of imagery; I’m immediately responding, oh, you too?
I’m one that overthinks invitations. Even the simple ones-post a comment, post your latest creations…in short step into the light rather than lurk at the edges of the circle. But the circle seems so tight; the art, the words so succinct, the friendships and comfortable knowledge already set. And it is nothing the circle has done. But the past rejections, the painful awkwardness, the dropping or not so great responses to my own invitations leads me to hang back. Feeling silly in the desire to be a part but hating the feeling of being unseen even when jumping full in and waving "howdy". Or even worse, doing it wrong and the attention I get is "Oh, you did that? That’s not right, how it’s done, how we do it here. That’s too much. You would know that if you were one of us."
So, despite that feeling, I’m jumping in because I want you to know I continue to look forward to the next unveiling. Thank you, once more, for your words, your art, and your sharing.
Thank you. I really understand this line of thought, Lee, and I appreciate your honesty. I hate that so many of us get stuck in this loop and feeling outside of things. Circles should always be something where we can take a step back to make room, readjust, clasp hands. Circles should be good that way, malleable, ever shifting, but I know often they are not. I am glad today that you jumped in on the invitation here to comment! I hope things are going well-- and that you are writing.
Good morning Amy. I enjoyed your “Invitation” piece. Yes, pale pink would be a welcome invite - the pale pink of a peony. I wrote this down: “Let’s have tea. No potlucks. Bring a quote instead. Bring a quote I don’t already know. Bring a good book recommendation. Bring a joke. Bring a haiku.
Bring your sea glass, your kaleidoscope, your favorite pen.”
Maybe I’ll use it on an invitation one of these days!
Really appreciating the opportunity to think of subtle connections as a kind of invitation, and the question: What would it look like if I said yes? This could be directed to either the inviter or the invitee, either one with equal capacity to accept an invitation to follow curiosity or step toward vulnerability. There were so many parts of this post that felt quotable, keepsakes as it were.
I looked up the symbolism of red spiders, and it seems to fit perfectly: "The red spider is a symbol of creativity, persistence, and resourcefulness. Its vibrant color and intricate web represent the ability to weave a life of beauty and purpose despite challenges. The red spider encourages us to tap into our creative energies and to be persistent in pursuing our goals."
Thank you, Amy, for seeing what many cannot, and for saying what many avoid.
Thank you for reading, Elizabeth, and for commenting. I really appreciate it, and I think we are often on one side or the other of that invitation question. Thanks for looking up the spiders. I find it hard to reframe in my head as good symbols, but that’s a good challenge for me! Hope you have a good week ahead.
This inspired me to firstly, to send a question to a friend, to ask for a date (something I have been wanting to do for a while but never "find the time"/brain power to do, so thank you Amy for encouraging me to send a pink invitation slip that was stuck in my brain.
Yesterday I also wrote my first Substack Letter/Essay, and it felt like your brain was overlapping mine as often happens when I read your texts. It felt extremely vulnerable to send out, to write and to share.
And today's was even worse, since it was this ASK: want to be in my DIY Postcard Swap this spring?
Lastly, not to overflow your comment section: love the pencil coloring a lot! I wish I could come draw with you, even though I rarely draw from life.
Take care.
PS: I also really, really want to write a blog post and/or newsletter as the kind of random list you have at the end here. I so love the randomosity of that, and I how much list writing resonates with me. :-)
Good for you sending that question. I’m so happy to hear that! And congratulations on moving your mailing list to substack. You have a large starting following, which is great. I think you’ll find that your space can be very much a blog - and not all the things you don’t think you like about newsletters. I don’t think you have anything to worry about — your audience loves to hear from you, and you’ll draw new readers here, too. You’ve got this!
The problem with jumping ship to Substack is that I LOVE my blog so much, you know all the 20 years of backlinks, photos, tags, categories, different views, and all the content I can refer back to... I would miss it, but reading you for quite a while now, I think maybe I should just... switch? Or keep both. Can't decide. LOL.
I would explore Substack -- see what you think about the editing interface. The layout controls are much different than you have on your personal site. But if that's not an issue.... moving might make sense. If you feel like you'll be doing the same thing both places, that duplication might not make sense. If you were already sending a regular newsletter to highlight what you put on your blog, you can still do it that way, of course, just using Substack for the newsletter. No need to rush. But it should be a win.... not a problem.
I am not a good invitation sender or accepter…something worth thinking about and reflecting on…
The idea of you switching to a pocket size sketchbook definitely made me stop and imagine your drawings on that scale! I used to carry tiny sketchbooks when my kids were young. It was very much a type of daily illustrated journaling at that point, and it kept my art going when it was very hard to fit in. It is also nice to revisit memories of that time by flipping through the pages.
Thanks for commenting, Erin! I hope things went well this week (or this weekend) — it is graduation, right? I agree with you about scale. I can’t imaging fitting anything full-sized. Lol. I love the memory of the small sketchbooks when your kids were young.
nice works and art
Thank you so much!
An invitation is an intention isn’t it, one that is shared in a very real way, and counts on others to make it happen? It is a scary thing. Planning and hosting the kids’ birthday parties terrifies me every year. And my first job out of college was planning and hosting alumni events! When it wasn’t “my” event, I guess I didn’t take it personally. In college I too xeroxed things- mine were concert posters I would make out of cut up comic books. I took some art history class about ideas of the “superhuman” and the reader cost maybe $240 dollars- you know the bound collection of photocopies - of comics?! By and far the most expensive “text” I ever purchased in college. And I couldn’t even sell it back after class like a used book! vowed to get my money’s worth out of that thing. So for the next four years I collaged those comics to make posters, for when we hosted bands at my friends’ house. It was really fun- sharing those “invitations” on telephone poles and billboards. Again it wasn’t me inviting people, it was our “show space.” Clearly I am more comfortable asking people to show up when I am issuing the invitation from behind a persona or an entity.
I love that about the posters you used to make. I bet those were fantastic, and yes, that's an interesting form of invitation, too. It makes me think of The Wander Society.... I couldn't help but look at poles as I passed by, just in case.
LOVE THIS! Love the quote you started with, and then there's this:
I’m interested in the subtle ones, the ones where we are reaching out, making connections, standing on a hilltop or amid a thousand trees and putting forth a whisper of an ask, putting a message into a bottle and the bottle into the water.
Maybe you will accept an invitation from me for a guest post when my newsletter "Finding the Sunshine" gets going. I am seeking humor through images/drawings etc. I have no skill that I know of. You've got lots!!!
Thank you so much for reading, Jill, and for singling out that line. I love knowing that had resonance. Your new newsletter sounds great. (I went and read your announcement!) Looking forward to seeing what you have planned!
It is amazing when I come here (or when listening to your podcast) you echo the thoughts in my head. The winding of your words curls around and understanding is met. So eloquently and full of imagery; I’m immediately responding, oh, you too?
I’m one that overthinks invitations. Even the simple ones-post a comment, post your latest creations…in short step into the light rather than lurk at the edges of the circle. But the circle seems so tight; the art, the words so succinct, the friendships and comfortable knowledge already set. And it is nothing the circle has done. But the past rejections, the painful awkwardness, the dropping or not so great responses to my own invitations leads me to hang back. Feeling silly in the desire to be a part but hating the feeling of being unseen even when jumping full in and waving "howdy". Or even worse, doing it wrong and the attention I get is "Oh, you did that? That’s not right, how it’s done, how we do it here. That’s too much. You would know that if you were one of us."
So, despite that feeling, I’m jumping in because I want you to know I continue to look forward to the next unveiling. Thank you, once more, for your words, your art, and your sharing.
Thank you. I really understand this line of thought, Lee, and I appreciate your honesty. I hate that so many of us get stuck in this loop and feeling outside of things. Circles should always be something where we can take a step back to make room, readjust, clasp hands. Circles should be good that way, malleable, ever shifting, but I know often they are not. I am glad today that you jumped in on the invitation here to comment! I hope things are going well-- and that you are writing.
Good morning Amy. I enjoyed your “Invitation” piece. Yes, pale pink would be a welcome invite - the pale pink of a peony. I wrote this down: “Let’s have tea. No potlucks. Bring a quote instead. Bring a quote I don’t already know. Bring a good book recommendation. Bring a joke. Bring a haiku.
Bring your sea glass, your kaleidoscope, your favorite pen.”
Maybe I’ll use it on an invitation one of these days!
So happy to see you, Carol. Thank you for your comment and for appreciating that line. I love that! I hope things are well with you.
I’ve been volunteering on Sunday mornings at our pet shelter. Please say hello to the drawing group for me and I hope to sign up for a Sunday in June!
Oh, I love that, Carol. I imagine time at the shelter is so rewarding for you AND the pets. We hope to see you sometime soon to catch up.
Really appreciating the opportunity to think of subtle connections as a kind of invitation, and the question: What would it look like if I said yes? This could be directed to either the inviter or the invitee, either one with equal capacity to accept an invitation to follow curiosity or step toward vulnerability. There were so many parts of this post that felt quotable, keepsakes as it were.
I looked up the symbolism of red spiders, and it seems to fit perfectly: "The red spider is a symbol of creativity, persistence, and resourcefulness. Its vibrant color and intricate web represent the ability to weave a life of beauty and purpose despite challenges. The red spider encourages us to tap into our creative energies and to be persistent in pursuing our goals."
Thank you, Amy, for seeing what many cannot, and for saying what many avoid.
Thank you for reading, Elizabeth, and for commenting. I really appreciate it, and I think we are often on one side or the other of that invitation question. Thanks for looking up the spiders. I find it hard to reframe in my head as good symbols, but that’s a good challenge for me! Hope you have a good week ahead.
I am also going to nudge you to check out the body doubling post at some point, Elizabeth.
I have to think about all the things I wish to say in response to this amazing essay. You hit so many nails on the head for me. But for now, this:
"Life is short.
Send your invitations.
Do the thing.
Put it out there.
Ask the question."
^^^^To quote a very wise person I'm just getting to know. And wow, am I grateful for that.
And this:
"Don’t be that way.
Be bold.
Say yes."
Yes.
Thank you, Nan!
This inspired me to firstly, to send a question to a friend, to ask for a date (something I have been wanting to do for a while but never "find the time"/brain power to do, so thank you Amy for encouraging me to send a pink invitation slip that was stuck in my brain.
Yesterday I also wrote my first Substack Letter/Essay, and it felt like your brain was overlapping mine as often happens when I read your texts. It felt extremely vulnerable to send out, to write and to share.
And today's was even worse, since it was this ASK: want to be in my DIY Postcard Swap this spring?
Lastly, not to overflow your comment section: love the pencil coloring a lot! I wish I could come draw with you, even though I rarely draw from life.
Take care.
PS: I also really, really want to write a blog post and/or newsletter as the kind of random list you have at the end here. I so love the randomosity of that, and I how much list writing resonates with me. :-)
Good for you sending that question. I’m so happy to hear that! And congratulations on moving your mailing list to substack. You have a large starting following, which is great. I think you’ll find that your space can be very much a blog - and not all the things you don’t think you like about newsletters. I don’t think you have anything to worry about — your audience loves to hear from you, and you’ll draw new readers here, too. You’ve got this!
(PS - I don’t draw from life either.)
The problem with jumping ship to Substack is that I LOVE my blog so much, you know all the 20 years of backlinks, photos, tags, categories, different views, and all the content I can refer back to... I would miss it, but reading you for quite a while now, I think maybe I should just... switch? Or keep both. Can't decide. LOL.
I would explore Substack -- see what you think about the editing interface. The layout controls are much different than you have on your personal site. But if that's not an issue.... moving might make sense. If you feel like you'll be doing the same thing both places, that duplication might not make sense. If you were already sending a regular newsletter to highlight what you put on your blog, you can still do it that way, of course, just using Substack for the newsletter. No need to rush. But it should be a win.... not a problem.
I am not a good invitation sender or accepter…something worth thinking about and reflecting on…
The idea of you switching to a pocket size sketchbook definitely made me stop and imagine your drawings on that scale! I used to carry tiny sketchbooks when my kids were young. It was very much a type of daily illustrated journaling at that point, and it kept my art going when it was very hard to fit in. It is also nice to revisit memories of that time by flipping through the pages.
Thanks for commenting, Erin! I hope things went well this week (or this weekend) — it is graduation, right? I agree with you about scale. I can’t imaging fitting anything full-sized. Lol. I love the memory of the small sketchbooks when your kids were young.