Prompt 299. Swimming to Shore
Nearing the end & reflecting on the beginning
Dear friend,
Hello from the last days of my painting residency! My watercolors for “The Alchemy of Blood,” my joint art show with my mom Anne Francey, are due in 72 hours, and I’m so tired but so gratified. I’m feeling that delicious delirium of when you’ve been working so hard on a creative project with single-minded focus, and you reach the point where it’s no longer a question of whether or not you can actually do it—because you’re doing it.
As I’m nearing the end, I’ve been reflecting on the beginning. I started painting just over two years ago, and back then, I never could’ve imagined what was in store for those hospital fever dreams unfurling through watercolor. Because I didn’t think of myself as a painter, I had no expectations for it to be good—I only wanted to immerse myself in a creative practice that would allow me to alchemize the fear lurking under the surface of everything. This practice was a life raft in that ocean of uncertainty (rendered quite literally in this first study for my roseate spoonbill painting), and it continues to be life-giving and buoying. I hope to keep painting forever.
With this journey in mind, I’m doing a little something different this week. I’m sharing a video I made for paid subscribers—now available to everyone—from the bone marrow transplant unit. In it I gave a behind-the-scenes tour of my makeshift painting studio in my hospital room; I’ve also included the simple prompt I gave at the end. I hope it helps you reimagine what’s possible, even in the most inhospitable conditions.
Keep swimming,
Suleika
Some Items of Note—
Mark your calendar! We’ve scheduled our next meeting of the Hatch, our virtual creative hour for paid subscribers, on Sunday, June 30 from 1-2 pm ET. Hope you can join us!
Besides painting, my other tool for getting through is noticing small joys—the things that lift me up, even momentarily. And each Friday in our Isolation Journals chat, we do this as a group—we call it our chorus of collective gratitude. To be buoyed by the joys of others and to add yours too, click here.
Prompt 299. Studio Visit: Hospital Edition with Suleika Jaouad
To access a written transcript, click here.
Your prompt for the week:
What is saving you?
If you’re new here—hi, I’m Suleika!
I’m the author of the memoir Between Two Kingdoms and the founder of the Isolation Journals, where we turn life’s interruptions into creative grist. Each Sunday, I send out this newsletter with an essay and journaling prompt from a guest contributor.
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Our Isolation Journal No. 1 and Surrender Tote
We designed a custom Isolation Journal with all our favorite features and a tote embroidered with my forever mantra to carry it around in—both pictured here out for a stroll on a glorious spring day. We have only a handful of totes remaining, so if you’ve had your eye on one, click the button below!
What’s saving me? The ocean — always. It’s there, tide going in and out, waves curling one after another. It’s quiet and settled one moment, and a raging torrent the next, just like the moods of life. I feel akin to it, safe in its watery embrace and completely at home in its blue depths. I like the ethereal feeling of floating in it when I scuba dive, and the dance with it when I surf. I made a little pact to myself in January that at least once a week I will swim in it, so far so good, as we come into winter it’s getting cold though and swimming in just my togs has me shivering. But I love it, it makes me feel alive and completely connected with the world around me. I did my swim this morning in the grey drizzle and I felt at peace (and a wee bit cold), but content nonetheless. I grew up next to it and have never lived in a town without the sea. I’m grateful for the ocean’s enduring presence 🌊
Good Sunday morning, Suleika, it was very interesting to watch you share your hospital creative space with us again! I am sitting in my sunroom, this the coolest part of the day (I now live in North Carolina) so the sliding glass door is open, allowing nature to join me and my cup of coffee. I believe it's these moments that save me and inspire me. The day is still soft around the edges, the sky full of clouds, the birds singing, the greenery of the swampy woods behind us is so vibrant and multi-dimensional that it practically speaks to me in hushed, leafy tones, so full of life. I also swim several times a week and I find the water freeing and cleansing. I have some physical issues of my own, and I can do things in the water that I can't do on land. It feels so good and nourishing. My sister commented that she noticed I smile the most when I am doing my water exercises. Doing my art (at this time it is fabric art) saves me as well, providing a creative outlet for my otherwise fairly mundane days (I still work part-time and then there are the usual day in, day out tasks to be done). And my two daughters and granddaughter keep me anchored to this earthly plain, offering me plenty of opportunities to give advice, love and support. These things have truly saved me from my darkest, saddest self. Good luck with your art show! I am waiting for the coffee table book to be published!