I Made Art. I Didn't Recognize Myself. I Loved It.

I arrived in Portland having never been there, which felt fitting somehow, a city I didn't know, for an experience I couldn't quite picture, to tap into a part of myself I wasn't sure still existed.

When I got to the Airbnb where five of the eight of us would be staying, I walked in to find a home filled with Flora's artwork. Color everywhere, beauty in every corner, the unmistakable feeling of a space that had been tended with care. And next to my bed, a handwritten note and a bouquet of flowers welcoming me to the experience.

I felt my eyes well up before I'd even put my bag down.

I won't give you the minute-by-minute of what followed, partly because some things deserve to stay held by the people who were in the room, and partly because the details aren't really the point. What I will tell you is that it was beautiful and magical in every sense of that overused and entirely accurate word. 

Flora created five days of freedom, beauty, and play. We got to know each other in the way that only immersive time together makes possible; the kind of knowing that doesn't happen over coffee or Zoom or even a very good dinner. It happens when you are side by side with someone, making something, being witnessed, dropping the performance of being fine. It was, as it always is, a reminder that time away with extraordinary women is not a luxury. It is nourishment. It is necessary.

I was the one among us with the least experience with art, painting, with the actual production of a made thing. I knew that going in and I made peace with it early, because I wasn't there for that. I was there to stretch into my own next level of creative expression, to explore what creativity actually means to me outside the forms I've always known, to find out whether there was a practice I could bring home and weave into my real life. Those were my questions. The retreat answered all of them, and then went further than I knew to ask.

We danced, which I love with my whole body and want so much more of in my everyday life. We practiced breathwork that was so powerful I am still thinking about it weeks later. We did morning writing and art practices that eased us gently into ourselves before the day had a chance to pull us outward. We sat in circle together, which is its own kind of art. And we painted.

The painting, though. 

I want to tell you about the painting.

It was never about technique, or skill, or producing something that looked like anything in particular. Flora demonstrated endlessly, colors, tools, mediums, methods, and then she gave us something more valuable than instruction. She gave us permission. To play. To experiment. To make something that didn't work and then paint right over it. To vocalize while we worked, actual sounds, our voices finding expression the same way our hands were, the whole body in it together. It was embodied and liberating and, honestly, so much more fun than I had ever expected.

We layered paint. We collaged. We worked with different tools and textures and the particular way certain colors feel when they land next to each other. I found myself moving to the music of her playlists, brush in hand, giving myself permission, real permission, not the polite kind, to simply follow what felt good. To stop asking whether it was right. To let it be mine.

And when we came to the end of our five days together, I stood in front of what I had made and felt something I can only describe as stunned recognition. I had created art that I loved. Not because it was technically accomplished. Because it was completely me.

But let’s be clear. I have no interest in becoming a trained artist. I have no interest in making the production of art my vocation or my identity. That is not what this was. What this was, what I came home carrying, is the understanding that there are creative practices available to me that will bring me joy, tap into something in my soul that doesn't get enough room, and invite more aliveness and play into my daily life. And they can be easy. They can be accessible. They don't require talent or training or a particular kind of artistic identity.

They just require showing up and saying yes.

Flora and I also talked at length about something I am thinking about, a lot: creativity is fast becoming the most essential human capacity of this moment. The principles that make a person creative; curiosity, permission, play, the willingness to layer something new over something that isn't working, are the same principles that drive the kind of leadership the world is desperately asking for right now. I'll be writing more about this on LinkedIn in the weeks ahead, so keep your eyes open.

Flora herself is one of the most extraordinary women I have ever had the privilege of spending time with. Her talent, her warmth, her absolute conviction that creativity belongs to every human being and not just those who've been told they have it; moved me in ways I am still absorbing. She has a gift not just for making things, but for helping others believe they can too.

It was one of the best experiences of my life.

And it started with a racing heart and a credit card and the decision to trust the yes before the list could talk me out of it.

Say yes, whenever you can.

— Laura