Sweet reader,
When the afternoon post-lunch slump strikes, that is my cue. I hop on my bike and head down the hill, taking in the neighborhood sights and sounds. The hum of a distant lawn mower. The patches of snow shrinking on Hurricane Ridge. The smiling man with the shoulder-length white beard, feeding the neighborhood goats.
I pull into the historic Matthews Glass building, a long unoccupied industrial warehouse that’s been renovated into a co-working, arts, and events space called The Hub. I sit down at my desk, where a name plate reads “Izzy Zucker, Resident Artist.”
As I shared in last month’s issue, I am in the constant practice of claiming various identities, “writer” being one of them. Is writing art? Is dancing art? Is the way I tend to my garden or make a meal art? Yes. Unapologetically yes. Who gets to be an artist, and claim the title? Where does the medium end, and life begin?
“We are what we practice. Simple as that.
This is a foundational teaching of embodiment. I am a surfer because I get on my board and paddle out. I am a gardener because I put my hands in the Earth. I am a writer because I write.
It doesn’t matter if I catch the wave, harvest the fruit, or publish the book. It is the act and the devotion that forms these identities—and it something that no one else can give or take from you.” – Baila turns one, part two
Accepting the risk of joining this residency, even with some turbulent inner dialogue, feels like a leap in the right direction. I am taking my own advice, selecting a container a few sizes up from what feels comfortable, and trusting that I will grow into it. I am exploring the boundary lines of my edge, and finding freedom in that it does not come with a map.
I’ve gotten a lot of questions from friends about what this residency means. To be honest, I quite literally had to Google “how do residencies work” when submitting my application. This is a non-traditional residency in that I do not have a break from my other ongoing labor and responsibilities (consulting, domestic, home maintenance, etc.), I do not live in this space, nor do I receive a stipend of any kind. In fact, I pay for the space, and am treating it as an investment in myself and my community, one that I have faith will return in abundant and reciprocal ways.
This residency means I have opportunities to collaborate with some amazing local resident artists (Bayloo, Larry, Will Frick, and Todd Fischer) and bring my words to other mediums such as sticker design, wood engravings, and more. We’ll have a collaborative community art show in a few months focused on the residency theme, designed by nature, and all works will be donated to the community.
Finally, and perhaps most meaningfully, it means I have a space and platform to host community workshops that support others in tapping into their innate creative expression.
“Creativity is the natural order of life. Life is energy: pure creative energy…when we open ourselves to our creativity, we open ourselves to the Creator's creativity within us and our lives. We are, ourselves, creations. And we, in turn, are meant to continue creativity by being creative ourselves.” – Julia Cameron, The Artist’s Way: A Spiritual Path to Higher Creativity
About the Workshops
This summer’s workshop series will fuse modalities for unique and playful experiences designed to support one another’s inherent creativity. These events will blend dance and movement, writing, drawing, and wild-crafting1, tapping into the space between the inner and outer world. The first will be:
Poetry in Motion: Exploring Embodied Rhythm | Sunday, July 14 and 21, 11am–1:30pm
Connect to your unique creative expression through movement and music. We’ll dance through several distinct rhythms, then respond to a writing or drawing prompt to evoke that rhythm’s essence. Designed and guided by yours truly, it’s going to be a blast! Come to either, or both.
Save the Date: Thurs., August 1; Sun., August 25; Sat., September 21
All workshops will take place at The Hub in Port Angeles, Washington. Think you’re not an artist? Think you’re not a dancer? A writer? I invite you to join me and test that assumption, held in safe and loving community space.
Interested in gathering online? Let me know!
The beloved newsletter essays will continue on, of course, as they remain the bedrock of my creative practice. Moving forward, they may change shape and tempo, but they will always remain true to their core, and I hope become more potent with time and practice.
Profit sharing will continue, with Mother Nation as the beneficiary.
I am resident artist. My art resides in a public, physical space. My art is my words, my art is my facilitation, so much of my art is still unborn. My art has a new, enlarged space where it can grow and stretch its roots just that much further, even if only for a few precious moments carved out of a busy week.
May this newsletter give you permission to invest in yourself and your soul’s unique mission, in whatever way is accessible to you. May it encourage you to take even one micro-movement toward, or make one inquiry into that mystery. The size of the investment doesn’t matter at all—the motion is the medicine.
I believe in you, I support you, and I would love to learn about ways we can help each other!
Ways you can support me
Leave a one-off contribution
Attend a workshop in Port Angeles
Share my writing
Press the ♡ or share button each time you receive an essay
Say something nice about my work
May our output remain steady. May we nourish it with deep rest. May we never forget to enjoy the sunshine on our skin as it supercharges our becoming. There is no sign of stopping soon.
With the love of one thousand suns,
Iz
A portion of all paid subscriptions goes to Mother Nation, and the remainder directly funds my continued education.
• Email: izabellazucker@gmail.com
ICYMI: Last month’s writing covered lessons I’ve learned from the past year of committing to this creative practice on Substack. Explore the ecological creative ideation process, imposter syndrome, internalized capitalism, and plenty more.
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The intended use and hyphenation of wild-crafting in this case is to convey that we will be using carefully foraged and grown natural materials, such as seaweeds, flowers, seeds, and more, to make artistic creations. The term “wildcrafting” is traditionally used in the realm of herbal medicine.
Celebrating you! ☀️
Love this Izzy; Congratulations on your residency - that is so powerful!!!