Tag Archives: Venice Beach

An Artist Date: January 2019

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My Life is an Artist Date. That’s a hashtag I use on Instagram and other Social Media Dates (#MyLifeisanArtistDate.). The Artist Date is one of the tools that Julie Cameron invites us to use to experience the world with open eyes and to breathe in something that sounds like fun. A solo expedition to spark your imagination.  Over years of practicing the artist date, it has become a way of life. What can I notice in this moment? My Artist Dates are a 30 second moment or an hour, a day or a long weekend. Reading Julia Cameron’s book, The Artist Way, opened me to the importance of spending time cultivating my creativity and my spirit. It was in a circle of women, in 1997, that I began to discover the importance of taking time for myself. In our circle, we shared our personal experiences in the backdrop of The Artist’s Way and Vein of Gold. Brilliant books written by Julie Cameron. We shared food and conversation and inspired each other with creativity projects.


My latest pet sit in Venice Beach, California, last week, was filled with four days of rest, reading, writing, movie watching on Netflix, beach walks and reconnection with myself. Mimi, a 5 lb. Maltese tea-cup, was my companion on morning walks of listening to the sounds on the beach. Seagulls with their huoh-huoh-huoh, choking call. The man with his guitar singing Bob Dylan songs, “How many roads must a man walk down, before you can call him a man? . . . The answer, my friend, is blowin’ in the wind. The answer is blowin’ in the wind.” Passing the new Starbucks on the boardwalk there is a throng of people protesting corporate America taking over the independent locally grown coffee shops. Venice beach is like a blast from the past. It feels like the 60’s and 70’s. Make love, not war. Free spirits. Strong voices. Alternate lifestyles. Art. Dream. Be You!

In addition to the sand, sea and seagulls, I notice the people I pass on my walk

*A woman with hoop earrings, a long skirt and shawl, holding a toddler, sitting on the sidewalk with her sign saying they are hungry, and could anyone spare a $1 for food.

*A man dressed in bright green scrubs, with a marijuana leaf print, inviting you into the Medical Marijuana Clinic.

*I hear a brief conversation from a man jogging by, plugged into earbuds, “If we move the bed to the west side of the room, we will have room for the new dresser. I’ll be home in 30 minutes”

*A woman exclaims, “Oh, she’s so cute.” Mimi thinks that is her name, she hears it so much on our walk. This 5 lb, white, fluffy doggie IS cute!

*A toddler in a stroller, points and calls out, “Dog, dog, dog.”

*I notice a sign from one of the artists, “No photos allowed without purchase.” A reminder that the artist is protecting her livelihood and setting a boundary. This is how she supports herself.


Craving lunch on one of my afternoon walks, I opt for the small food stall with a hand-made sign advertising tacos. After I order the pollo taco, the man disappears behind the sign into a tiny kitchen. I wait with my mouth watering from the smells of garlic, onion, cumin and chili powder. He hands me two, steaming hot tacos on a paper plate.

In the evenings, I inhale inspiration from film on Netflix. Every night a different theme: Feminism in the 70’s: Women fighting for equal rights and equal pay. Dancing to Taylor Swift’s concert: Reputation. Thinking about how she went to court this year to testify against a man who had sexually assaulted her. #metoo. On Netflix, she is a woman with a commanding stage presence. One night, I watched films about the AIDS epidemic and the leadership that emerged from individuals who stood up to the government and drug companies. Finally, on the last night, foreign films with subtitles: films from Nigeria and Mexico, feeling other cultures and languages.

On my last morning, I reflected on the weather of the four days. Days One and Two were a mixture of stillness and aliveness. Calm ocean. Restaurants, boardwalk and beach filled with people who were still on vacation after The New Year. Day Three: The clouds rolled in with an increase of wind and a prediction of rain. I walked an almost deserted boardwalk with shop owners bringing in chairs and merchandise and boarding up windows.  On the final morning, the air was crisp and clean. The sun was shining brightly. The ocean roared with waves. Shop owners opening up for business and clearing the debris from palm tree leaves and trash. People returning to jog, ride bikes, do yoga on the beach and enjoy nature.

As I walked on that final morning by myself, I chose a seat on the sand at the water’s edge watching the tide roll in and the waves coming closer and closer to my feet. I remembered the many times I have been on this beach, at this time of year, pondering what is next. In 2010, I spent a day walking on the boardwalk and napping on the beach as I prepared for the final radio show of that holiday season. Show 44: A Summary of 44 days of Grief Transformation. I was asking, God, Spirit, the Universe, what’s next? A few days later, I sent an application to the State of California to register, “Heal My Voice,” as a non-profit organization. This stretch of land has birthed many dreams and ideas. I wonder as I wander on the beach this year, what will I learn and discover in 2019? I pass a man who is offering “shitty advice” for $1. I laugh out loud. I know I don’t need that. I have cultivated inner guidance. The answers are within.

There is one thing, I do know. I am curious and open to what is to come in 2019. With one last deep breath, I feel the ocean and gratitude for this space. I’m alive! #mylifeisanartistdate


If you want to explore writing as a process or you are working on a book or developing a program, the next Writing Incubator begins on April 1 with early bird pricing until February 1. Check it out! You don’t have to do it alone.

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Andrea Hylen believes in the power of our voices to usher in a new world. She is the founder of Heal My Voice, an organization that inspires women to heal a story, reclaim personal power and step into greater leadership and the Writing Incubator, an on-line writing community with writing prompts and writing labs, for women. She is author of Heal My Voice: An Evolutionary Woman’s Journey.

Andrea discovered her unique gifts while parenting three daughters and learning to live life fully after the deaths of her brother, son and husband. She follows her intuition as she collaborates with women and men in organizations and travels around the world speaking, teaching and leading workshops. Her passion is authentically living life and coaching others to do the same. To connect with Andrea and learn about coaching, current projects and on-line writing circles go to: www.andreahylen.com and www.healmyvoice.org.

A Little Dream Comes True

Day 96 of 100 Days of Blogging

When I was growing up, I had the wish that I would have an older brother and sister. My older brother would get me dates and my sister would advise me. When I first had this desire, I was 13 years old, the oldest child with a sister two years younger than me and a brother who was seven years younger.

In that wish, there was an underlying desire to have older siblings who would help me to navigate life. I was so confused about how to fit in and where I belonged and how to dress and how to make new friends in my new school at a time when I felt so awkward.

Today I had an unexpected moment of having an experience of having an older brother. Somehow in this experience, it felt like everything was right with the world.

I asked one of my housemates, Erik, to get my bike down from the ceiling chains in the garage. He decided to ride his bike to the beach, too. The whole time we were riding I felt like I was his little sister. We didn’t plan it. It just happened that the organic interaction between us brought up these feelings.He carried the bikes out to the driveway and then lifted my bike into the air and over the car that was parked in the driveway and onto the sidewalk. He told me to go first as we headed down the street. As we approached Venice Boulevard, a busy street he told me when to cross the street and showed me where to stay on the bike path between cars . He followed me for one block then told me he was going to ride fast to the stop light. When he got there, he waited for me. During the 2 mile ride to the beach, he wove back and forth speeding up and slowing down and turning his head back to check on me.

At the beach there was no direct entrance onto the bike path. Erik rode up a grassy path, over a hill, through a mud ravine to the bike path and I followed him, the way a little sister who wants to keep up and be included would do. With a full water bottle, a heavy bike lock and a blanket in my basket, I couldn’t make the sharp turn onto the path. I wiped out on the sand and fell landing on my thumb. I could feel the pulsing of a sprain. Still shaky I climbed back on the bike and peddled fast to catch up. I took the lead and wove around two tight curves. With an encouraging tone, he said, “That was so great! You made it around the tight curves.” Big brother words of encouragement after the spill.

We rode on the path for awhile and then parted to run errands and do the activities we each wanted to do at the beach.

In that moment, I felt warm and tingly and happy. I had my big brother~little sister moment.

A Little Dream Came True…