Sometimes you need to run away to the woods to find yourself🌲

Planting Stars and doing nothing

When I go looking for an answer I turn to art. Art always has the coolness, the texture, the interesting I want from the answers I seek. When J and I asked each other “how do we want to promote our next Class Outside cohort”, the answer was, art. We asked the inaugural Class Outside cohort to share with us about their experience. Our first cohort of Class Outside artists are so brave. They gathered in the woods to connect with themselves, with other artists they have never met, to do nothing. Doing nothing is often the first step on the pathway to art.

Planting Stars

A thought that’s plagued me recently: am I planting seeds, or am I just forming bad habits? Can bad habits be seeds too? Cultivated and watered and cared for to turn into something fruitful or something beautiful. These questions come up for me as I’m reaching for my laptop or phone at quiet hours of the night, desperate to write down any and all ideas coming to mind. Desperate because I’ve spent the whole day avoiding them until they can’t be ignored anymore. They come rushing at me in the night, asking please can we finally be understood? Can we finally be seen? It’s in these “bad habits” that I find my creativity revealing itself to me.

Recently, I had the privilege of attending an artist’s Do Nothing Retreat, hosted by the wonderful artists Jacque and Phoebe of Do You Ever acclaim. As I reflect on my time on retreat there’s a much earlier memory that keeps resurfacing. I’m middle school aged and driving out with family friends in a golf cart to a valley-like field in rural Wisconsin. It was in this caverned out space that we got the most amazing view of the stars I’ve ever experienced in my life. In my memory I can even see streaks of the Milky Way across the wide open horizon. (Is that even possible?) At retreat I am doing the same — taking a deliberate journey to a place where the noise and flashing lights of every day life fade away, leaving room for my artist self that has been there all along just below the surface of the mundanity.

What does it mean to truly Do Nothing? This was a question we discussed frequently as a group, and it’s one I keep coming back to. It’s a phrase that feels rebellious and punk in this optimization-obsessed world. While on retreat all of a sudden, Always Be Optimizing — that unconscious mantra that has driven so many of my decisions, even in leisure — fell away. This is what doing nothing looked like for me: seeing a hammock in the backyard of the house we were staying at, and knowing that I wanted to lay in that hammock and read at least once on the trip. And then doing exactly that. It was being in tune with my body and needs. Choosing excitement and connection over a nap after a red-eye flight, because the energy of the moment was too magical to miss. Knowing that it was safe to cry and laugh and dance in front of my fellow artists and not feel ashamed afterwards. To, in fact, feel empowered; to feel I was somewhere I truly belonged.

Not once during retreat did I feel like I didn’t belong. What a powerful feeling that was. There was no imposter syndrome knocking around inside my head, no voice whispering that I was taking up space that was meant for a “real” artist. Because the truth was, she was already there. The real artist is me; I am the real artist. Instead of being worried that I was wasting my time or worse, wasting the time of others, I found myself wondering how to recreate this feeling in my everyday life. How could I bring this sense of belonging and purpose back to my community at home? How could I remember the power of Doing Nothing when I inevitably had to return to the Real World?

And truly, I am so often inclined to Do Nothing. To sit and enjoy the space around me, take in all the sensory data and detail, and just truly be there. When I’m feeling negative and down about myself, I see it as a bad habit. I characterize myself as a lethargic, melancholy person who just can’t keep up with this fast paced world. But in reality I’m going at my own pace. I’m Doing Nothing so I can Do Something. I’m Doing Nothing now so I can Do Nothing again later. It’s all part of the journey of being my true artist self. These are the steps I take, the process needed in the creation that is me. There’s no good or bad, only process.

I know that the seeds that have been planted through retreat will stay with me and continue to flourish in ways I can’t yet know. Even in imperfection, in moments of frustration or uncertainty, there's potential for creation. Even in mundanity, in the sameness of day after day life, there’s potential for creation. Every word typed, every thought explored, is a seed planted. Away from the light pollution of daily life, I saw with my naked eye constellations within me that I had forgotten existed. But the stars I saw in that field as a kid have always been there, just as my inner artist has always existed. Sometimes, we just need the right stage to let that brilliance shine.

Anna Cullado

is a LA based illustrative artist, empathetic creator, and storyteller.

Thank you to Anna for coming a long on the journey with us, and for sharing her words and art with us a long the way. 🥺 Go follow Anna to stay up to date with all she is creating

Join the waitlist to get first dibs on the 8 spots we have available for this Winter’s Class Outside Cohort. We gather again in January 2025, with a retreat in the winter cabin mountains of Upstate NY in March. Build a trusting creative practise, and become a well resourced artist, with Class Outside. 🌱

Big love,

P+ J