Collaborative Co-Creation

You know those wonderful sketches of the ladies that have enriched my statements on this and that? On awareness (or rather, medvetenhet since the post is in Swedish), judgement and compassion. Well. They are the result of a spontaneous co-creative collaboration with my dear friend Sus.


I know she’s a lady of many talents, but I had no idea she was such a great artist until she started to play around on Paper by fiftythree, after she saw me do some doodles there. I highly suggest you check her work out in MIX.

And yes. There are several collaborative pieces hiding in the drawer, just waiting for me to get them into a blog post. Because I sure hope she’ll continue to play with me, for several reasons:

  1. It’s great fun to engage in a creative collaborative co-creating with a friend.
  2. When she creates an image to words I’ve written, she visualizes them in a way that sometimes opens my eyes to the word from a different angle.
  3. Her ladies makes me smile!

When did you last engage in a creative collaborative bit of co-creation?

Podcast 25/52 – a punch in the nose

Oops, I forgot. Sundays is my recommend-a-podcast-day here on the blog, and I simply forgot. Luckily, I can make up for it today. And I will make it up by giving you a punch in the nose… sort of. The one doing the punching is life though, and not me.

BoldomaticPost_Life-is-a-contact-sport-Its-aJonathan Fields runs Good Life Project, which is one of my top three podcasts (accompanied by On Being and One You Feed), and I often listen more than once to them. This specific pod first emerged as a blog post and if you don’t have 6 minutes to listen, take the time to read it. It’s well worth it!

So here’s Jonathan with a short riff on how life is a contact sport. If I am so afraid of what the contact might result in perhaps I also shirk away from life itself. I mean, in life, the occasional bruise and blister is certain to occur, and I might be unlucky enough to get a concussion or a broken bone, but I also might not. I don’t know in advance, do I?

Hiding, in a state of non-living, afraid of what might or might not happen if I engage. Desiring a warm welcoming hug. Dreading being punched in the nose.
And when dread and fear outgrows that which I desire and want, inaction is the likely outcome.

Is there anything more sad than a life not lived, on account of fear?