To contact Gika Rector, call 713.213.7643 or send e-mail.

Upcoming Events

Upcoming Events

Calendar pages flipping

What’s Wrong With Being Right?

Not much, of course. Or maybe a lot. Hard to be absolutely certain, which is the point. What’s wrong with being right is that we can’t always know—in the big scheme of things—what’s really right. And if we’re too concerned with being right, we lose sight of just living our lives.

If I’m right, then usually it means that someone else is wrong. It might just be my job to show them that they’re wrong. Would that make me self-righteous? Would that be wrong?

And if I’m wrong, maybe I should feel guilty. And if I don’t want you to know that I’m wrong or have been wrong, then I’ll need to do some cover‑up. Not outright lies, just cover up my flaws. That surely wouldn’t be wrong. It’s just making things nicer for both of us. Right? Right.

Or maybe not. Maybe that approach keeps me from being my very best self, and keeps a barrier between us. You might want to hurt me or judge me if you knew I was wrong. And I might have to hurt you to defend myself.

What if we all reserved the right to be wrong? What if we acknowledged that we don’t always get it right? What if we could focus on doing good work, living life to the fullest, doing our best, without fear of being wrong? Wouldn’t that be a relief?

Maybe even when we were wrong, we’d be closer to getting it right.

What do you think? Am I right about this?

One for the Money, Two for the Show

Two birds high in tree

One for the money, two for the show, three to get ready, and four to go‑o‑o‑o. It’s a counting game that reminds me of my dad. Not sure why it comes to mind now, except it somehow seems to fit some of our ideas about showing our work as artists.

  • One for the money. Who wouldn’t like to get some money from showing their work?
  • Two for the show. The Show? Who’s it for? What’s it for?
  • Three to get ready. Oh, my—the getting ready. So much easier said than done. What does it take to get ready to show your work?
  • And four to go-o-o-o. Go where? What’s next? Somehow, when my dad said the last bit, there was a sense of adventure. Something exciting was going to happen. Anticipation, curiosity, eagerness.

Members of my meetup group, The Well-fed Artist, have suggested a show, so in our second meeting on September 9, we’ll talk about showing our work. What is and isn’t important about doing that? Is the work complete without being shown? What’s the right setting for showing your work, or your work at this time?

You’re welcome to participate in the conversation! The Well-fed Artist meetups are free and open to the public, but we encourage you to join the Meetup group and RSVP for events. (Membership is free and entitles you to participate in the discussion forums, share messages with the community, and sign up for announcements about other Meetup groups in your areas of interest.)

Joining the Meetup group isn’t a requirement for attending our meetings. If you’d like to take part in a meeting but would prefer not to join the group, please call me or send e‑mail to let me know you’re coming.

And as always, I’d love to hear from you in the comments below about this post or anything that’s on your mind.

Illumination in the Midst of Famine

Food in the midst of famine. Where does it come from? Who gets to have it? Who might be willing to share?

And where’s the famine? Here we are in the land of plenty. Seems like there’s more talk of obesity than famine. And yet, there’s also a pervasive sense of limited resources; certainly there are hungry people in our community, and plenty of doubt about the economy and the job situation.

Even Cowgirls Get the Blues

I recently started a Meetup Group called The Well-fed Artist, and the theme for our first meeting is “Food in the Midst of Famine.” How’s that for putting it out there? In all my life up to this point, I’ve never known so many artists. None of them are literally starving—at least to my knowledge—but a lot of them are hungry. Hungry for success, for acknowledgement, for a way to do what they do and get paid for doing it, for money to pay the rent, for time and space and resources to make their art, for a sense of security, and for encouragement and inspiration.

In all my life up to this point, I don’t remember ever hearing such a consistent litany about the perils of our current economic situation. So why, at this point, should we talk about the well-fed artist? Shouldn’t we move on to more practical things, like jobs and politics and tightening our belts? Maybe; maybe not. In the midst of all the gloom and doom, it’s artists who tell it like it is, and also get really creative about new possibilities. It’s artists who help us see the world and ourselves in new light. It’s artists who help us tap into the stuff we know, but don’t know that we know. It’s artists who express the feelings we’re not quite ready to admit to. It’s artists who show us the best and the worst in us and in our world. It’s artists who remind us that “man can not live by bread alone.” Artists are necessary to our well being, and they should be well-fed. That’s why I think we should talk about the well-fed artist.

So, what does it mean to be a well-fed artist? As a starting point, I’d say that the well-fed artist has food on the table, clothing and shelter, and time and space and resources for making art. Easily said, not always so easily created. Thus, the meetup group. We’ll tell it like it is and like it could be. We’ll share ideas and information, food and nourishment. We’ll look at the complications and obstacles to being well-fed. Could it be that Tom Robbins was right when he said, “Difficulties illuminate existence, but they must be fresh and of high quality.”?*

Let the illumination begin.

*Even Cowgirls Get the Blues

The Well-fed Artist: To Show or Not To Show, That Is the Question

Announcing the second meeting of The Well-fed Artist, a Meetup group intended to subvert the idea that artists have to starve, to suffer for their art. Artists can and do live rich, full lives. How? What does it take? How can they provide nourishment for themselves and one another?

Hosted by coach and fiber artist Gika Rector, this Meetup group explores what it takes individually and as a community to be well-fed.

Date and time

Two birds high in treeThursday, September 9, 2010
7–9 pm

Description

Each meeting of The Well-fed Artist will be loosely structured around a theme, and will also include time for individual reflection and conversation.

The theme for our second meeting will be To Show or Not To Show, That Is the Question. Members of The Well-fed Artist have suggested a show, so we’ll talk about showing our work. What is and isn’t important about doing that? Is the work complete without being shown? What’s the right setting for showing your work, or your work at this time?

Participants are invited to bring something to share—a snack, an idea, or a show-and-tell.

Fee

The Well-fed Artist meetups are FREE and open to the public, but we encourage you to join the group and RSVP for events at the Meetup page. Group membership is free and entitles you to participate in the discussion forums, share messages with the community, and sign up for announcements about other Meetup groups in your areas of interest.

How to register

RSVP by visiting the Meetup page or by sending us e‑mail.

Location

Frame Craft Lampros Gallery
26106 Oakridge Drive [MAP]
The Woodlands, TX 77380

Moderator

A fiber artist for more than 20 years, Gika Rector combines creativity, an education in psychology, and her role as a personal coach to facilitate transformation in individuals and organizations more

Creative Play: A Felting Mini‑Workshop

Have fun making your own felt goods in this workshop.

Date and time

Felt around a ballTuesday, September 7, 2010
6–9 pm

Description

Learn a fun and contemporary approach to an ancient fiber medium. Wrap a ball with luscious and colorful merino wool and cover it with pantyhose. Add soap and water—and bounce. The wool becomes a felted sphere. The sphere can then become a bag or purse or vessel, perhaps even a hat.

With vibrant and interesting textures to play with, felting is a rich creative experience for the senses. Bring an old towel, a plastic bag, and your curiosity. All other materials are included in the registration fee. No experience necessary.

Fee

$45 ($40 Jung Center members)

How to register

Registration is closed for this event.

You may register online for this course.

Or if you prefer, you may call The Jung Center at 713‑524‑8253 to register for this event. You can also download a registration form to fill out and fax (713‑524‑8096) or mail to the Jung Center.

Location

The Jung Center of Houston
5200 Montrose Boulevard [MAP]
Houston, Texas
713-524-8253

Instructor

A fiber artist for more than 20 years, Gika Rector combines creativity, an education in psychology, and her role as a personal coach to facilitate transformation in individuals and organizations more

A Simple Thank-you Will Do Quite Nicely

Menil Magnolias
Menil Magnolias
by Gika Rector

I paid for someone’s dinner the other night, and she thanked me kindly. I made a trip to help someone with a daunting chore. She thanked me for coming, even before we got started on the work. Nicely done, and what a difference it made. Being acknowledged for doing something helpful or nice adds to the quality of the exchange. Makes it a little more worthwhile.

These experiences put me in mind of another situation, in which I’ve been both acknowledged and rebuffed. The acknowledgements help me move forward; the other stuff makes me wonder if it’s worth it, which in turn means it takes that much more energy to do what I do there.

So here’s what I want to say about this: please thank others for what they do. And if you disagree with what they do, it’s okay to communicate that. Please, just include appreciation for the efforts they make, and do it with respect and courtesy. It’ll make the world a nicer place—at least your corner of the world, for a little while.

And please let me know what kind of experiences you’ve had with expressions of gratitude. What kind of results are you noticing? Oh—and thanks for reading.

Front-Porch Conversations

It was a couple of years ago when my friend and I sat on the porch and talked about “ashes to ashes and dust to dust.” He’s mostly retired, has a garden and a goldfish pond, and is very much engaged in relationships with family and friends. Somehow it was easy to talk about our lives, the brevity of them, and to be at peace with the idea that one day we would each be part of the earth in a different form.

Porch
Porch
by Gika Rector

Since that day on the porch, my oldest child got married, my younger brother died, and two of my favorite people on the planet are slowly dying.

I like the married couple, and I’m trying to be a good mother‑in‑law.

My brother’s life was shorter and tougher than anyone would want, but he seemed to have made peace with much of it, and was spending time doing what he loved to do. He died suddenly, apparently in his sleep.

The part about the people who are slowly dying is hard to sort out. They’ve lived rich, full lives, and are leaving the world a better place because of their presence. Certainly they’ve enriched my life in lots of ways. The slowness of their dying means that we’ve already lost much of who they were and how they interacted with the world. Their brains just don’t work the way they once did. Short term memory is gone, and odd fixations have emerged.

They mostly look the same, but every now and then I’m startled by how old they look, and wonder how strangers might see them. How could a stranger know the intelligence and passion and drive that once lived here? Could a stranger see the curiosity and dedication and learning? Probably not.

One of them is quite confused; the other depressed, perhaps even suicidal. How can this be? Hard to watch, and hard to understand. The one who is confused is trying hard to work it out. Trying hard to get organized, have important meetings, and prepare for a trip. The other is quite unhappy, resentful of the situation, struggling to find a way to make things different.

There are still moments of ease and clarity, warmth and good will. Intellectually, I can see that this is a time of withdrawal, winding down, and letting go. Emotionally, I’m wondering why it has to be so challenging and why I can’t “make it all better.”

My front-porch friend once said that we each choose our own way to die. I’ve puzzled over that concept for a really long time. Is it true? If so, what does it really mean? My best guess is that how we live is a part of how we die. Are we curious and present? Are we responsible? Do we look outside ourselves for someone or something to take the blame or to fix it? Are we response‑able? Do we resist the reality of our living and dying? Does that take us away from our purpose on the planet?

Do we have a purpose? I’ve heard and considered a number of answers to that last question. We’re here to love one another, or to learn to love one another. We’re co-creators. We’re here to be fully human.

I like that last one. We’re here to be fully human. Another meaty morsel from that same friend. And again, something to puzzle over for a long time. To be fully human means so many different things. To live, to breathe, to laugh, to love, to die—maybe slowly or maybe quickly. And perhaps the best way to be fully human is to experience the richness of it, the good, the bad, and the ugly. The fullness and the wonder. As sad as I am to watch dear ones wind down their lives, I’m equally grateful for the richness and grace that their lives have added to mine. I think they know that, and I hope it brings a little richness and grace to their current experience.

And for all of us, my favorite quote, from a stone somewhere in India: lift your heart, open to grace.