 Writing is not a gift that will just happen. Like any art form, it takes dedication and practice—showing up, even when you don’t feel like it. Especially when you don’t feel like it. It will make you happy, frustrated, proud, and wildly insecure, sometimes all in the same sitting. Writing is, at its core, an act of wrestling with yourself. A tug-of-war between inspiration and doubt, between what you meant to say and what actually lands on the page.
It’s thrilling. It’s maddening. It’s staring at the blinking cursor, convinced you have nothing to say, and then, without warning, having a sentence pour out that you didn’t even know was waiting. It’s chiseling at an idea until it looks like something real, then stepping back and wondering if you even got close. And the editing? Oh, the editing. The brutal, beautiful process of tearing apart what you built so you can build it better. It doesn’t cause the physical pain of childbirth, but there’s definitely labor involved—the kind that makes you question why you ever started in the first place. Because writing requires vulnerability. It’s letting people in, letting them see the raw, messy, unfinished parts of your brain. And when feedback comes, no matter how kind, it pokes at the tender spots of self-doubt. Compliments don’t always sink in the way criticism does, but still, we keep going. I guess, like everything else, I just show up. Here I am now, just typing and thinking. And maybe that’s all writing really is — sitting down, feeling it all, and finding the words anyway.
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 I have been teaching stained glass classes for a few years. One of my most popular classes is constructing the peace sign. While researching some information to prepare for the class, I stumbled upon the origin story of the peace sign. I was wowed! Here is what I learned... The peace sign, with its iconic circular design and distinctive "rocket-like" symbol within, has become one of the most recognizable and enduring symbols of the 20th and 21st centuries. Its history is deeply rooted in the anti-nuclear movement of the 1950s and draws inspiration from an unexpected source: naval communication flags. The Birth of a Symbol The peace sign was created in 1958 by British graphic designer Gerald Holtom for the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament (CND)[1][5]. Holtom, a conscientious objector during World War II and a member of the Direct Action Committee Against Nuclear War (DAC), was tasked with designing a symbol for the first major anti-nuclear march in Britain[2]. Holtom's design brilliantly incorporated elements from the flag semaphore system, a visual method of communication used in naval signaling[5][6]. The symbol combines two semaphore letters:
By superimposing these two shapes and enclosing them in a circle (representing the Earth), Holtom created the now-famous peace symbol[1][6]. The Symbol's Debut The peace sign made its public debut during the Easter weekend of 1958 when protesters marched from London to Aldermaston, the site of the Atomic Weapons Research Establishment[1][2]. Demonstrators carried banners and signs featuring the new symbol, marking the beginning of its journey to becoming a global icon. As the peace sign gained popularity, Holtom's feelings about his creation evolved. In a letter written in 1973 to Hugh Brock, a key figure in the Direct Action Committee, Holtom explained the personal significance of the symbol: "I was in despair. Deep despair. I drew myself: the representative of an individual in despair, with hands palm outstretched outwards and downwards in the manner of Goya's peasant before the firing squad. I formalized the drawing into a line and put a circle round it."[5] However, Holtom later expressed a desire to see the symbol inverted. According to American pacifist Ken Kolsbun, who corresponded with Holtom until his death in 1985: "He came to regret the symbolism of despair, as he felt that peace was something to be celebrated and wanted the arms of the symbol to be raised upwards rather than downwards."[5] Holtom envisioned the inverted symbol as representing the tree of life, a symbol of hope and resurrection in Christian tradition[5]. Global Spread and Adoption The peace sign quickly transcended its original context: 1. By 1960, it had crossed the Atlantic, appearing on American anti-nuclear pamphlets[7]. 2. In the mid-1960s, it became a prominent symbol of the anti-Vietnam War movement[7]. 3. The symbol was adopted by various counterculture and civil rights movements, expanding its meaning beyond nuclear disarmament to encompass broader concepts of peace and harmony[3]. A Symbol Without Copyright Importantly, the peace sign has never been trademarked or copyrighted[5]. This has allowed for its free use and adoption by various causes and movements worldwide, contributing to its enduring popularity and universal recognition. ## Legacy and Continued Relevance Today, the peace sign remains a powerful and widely recognized symbol: - It continues to be used in anti-war and anti-nuclear protests. - The symbol appears on a wide range of products, from clothing to jewelry to home decor[3]. - It has been adopted by environmental and social justice movements. - The peace sign is recognized and used by people of all ages, transcending generational boundaries[3]. Conclusion The peace sign's journey from a specific anti-nuclear symbol to a universal icon of hope and harmony is a testament to the power of simple, effective design. Rooted in the language of naval flags but speaking to our deepest desires for a peaceful world, Gerald Holtom's creation continues to resonate with people around the globe, more than six decades after its inception. As we reflect on the history of this enduring symbol, we're reminded of the ongoing struggles for peace and the continued relevance of Holtom's vision. The peace sign stands as a call to action, a reminder of our shared humanity, and a beacon of hope for a better world. Citations: [1] https://www.rd.com/article/history-of-peace-sign/ [2] https://tremendo.us/ness/the-story-of-the-peace-sign-and-other-iconic-symbols/ [3] https://vocal.media/art/the-interesting-history-of-the-internationally-recognized-peace-sign [4] https://www.thehumanityproject.com/new-blog/tag/peace+sign [5] https://www.nobelpeacecenter.org/en/news/behind-the-peace-symbol [6] https://www.thisiscolossal.com/2017/02/delicate-sketches-of-the-original-peace-symbol-to-be-exhibite... [7] https://theweek.com/captured/737372/origin-story-peace-sign [8] https://thisistrue.com/peace-sign/ [9] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Peace_symbols [10] https://www.artandobject.com/news/origin-peace-sign [11] https://www.cnn.com/style/article/style-origins-peace-symbol/index.html [12] https://www.bethelwoodscenter.org/news/detail/the-peace-symbol-woodstock-a-history The most valuable advice is simple: always be your authentic self. The beauty of life is its flexibility and forgiveness. If something doesn't feel right, pivot. And if pivoting doesn't work, change direction entirely. Don't waste time on a path that no longer serves you. Choose a new one, follow a friend if needed, but always keep being true to yourself. Embrace Your Inner Monkey Ignoring your inner Monkey can lead to missed opportunities and regrets. Unlike the saying "get the Monkey off your back," I see the Monkey as a guide, here to teach valuable lessons. Sometimes, the Monkey appears waving red flags. Have you ever met someone who feels like "the one" but the timing is off? Those are life's red flags, signaling change. The Monkey also has flags of every color. I love it when I see the green flags, which often look like serendipitous encounters, affirming you're on the right path. Stay true to yourself, pay attention to your inner Monkey, and embrace life's flexibility. Your authentic path will lead you to where you truly belong.   Exploring Creativity and Connection: My Art-Filled Workspace in the Arts District. In a world that's constantly evolving, so too are definitions of our workspaces. For me, the concept of a traditional office has transformed into something far more enriching and artistic. During the pandemic, my law office was quickly scooted out of the pristine marble building we were accustom to and set up a desk in my spare room at home. This transition was jarring until I realized the vast improvement in my productivity while working undistracted by office politics. With the realization that a work-life / home-life balance was radically more achievable when working close to home, I gained vast insight into how to live a happier life. I also found the change of scene itself to be as impactful on my productivity as the initial work-from-home order. So, here I am today, working from my art studio. This space is brimming with creativity. Nestled within the vibrant confines of the Franklinton Arts District, 400 West Rich has long been my “home away from home” and now also serves as my “office away from home”. A Hub of Artistic Synergy. 400 West Rich isn't just a building; it's a sanctuary for creatives. I have met most of my friends through this space. Some were other artists renting studio space, others started as students and became friends. This place beckons to people seeking connection through expression. I currently share a studio with four other passionate artists. We enjoy the community created by sharing space. All of us use art as a secondary income and primary way to connect with a community. Having studio mates is awesome. There’s often someone available to open the studio for events, plus sharing both rent and responsibilities means we can all participate. None of us would want to carry the expense of running a small business without the help of the others. This unique setup has transformed the space into a delightful medley of artistic pursuits. Among us are individuals who wield brushes with grace, capture moments through the lens of a camera, and conjure mesmerizing prints that lure the curious. The walls of our studio are more than mere boundaries; they are canvases that ebb and flow with the tides of inspiration. As the summer art market season unfurls, these once-adorned walls shed their artistic treasures, leaving behind a blank slate. Yet, in the wake of these creative markets, the studio transforms anew as art magically reappears, each piece telling a story of its own.  Embracing the Unseen Connections.
For me, this space is a realm where the ceaseless influx of creativity and ideas can be distilled into a personal expression. It's a place where the boundaries of my imagination are stretched and redrawn, guided by the desire to contribute a unique note to the artistic chorus. The studio becomes a playground for learning, a space where curiosity is cultivated and understanding is nurtured. In the midst of it all, I've come to understand that this isn't just a workspace; it's a community of kindred spirits. The shared passion for creation bridges gaps in knowledge and familiarity, forming a bond that transcends the need for recognition. The studio breathes with a life of its own, where ideas meld and interact, fusing together to create something far greater than the sum of its parts. A Canvas of Inspiration. 400 West Rich is more than just a location; it's a canvas of infinite possibilities. It's a place where the lines between work and passion blur, where artistic souls converge to collaborate, learn, and evolve. As I sit amidst the ever-changing displays of creativity, I'm reminded that it's not the familiarity with the neighborhood that keeps me here, but the journey of self-discovery through art. This is my sanctuary, my place of creative metamorphosis, where inputs are woven into the fabric of outputs, and where the artistic spirit finds its truest expression.
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About the OP.Hi, I’m Colleen. I think a lot, and sometimes those thoughts refuse to stay inside my head, so I write them down. Archives
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