Today I find myself deep in contemplation of the goddess Athena. Her presence lingered long after I left the art workshop I attended this morning—a sacred space where myth, creativity, and self-reflection met in quiet ceremony.

The workshop was held in the luminous studio of Cheryl Russell, an artist whose work first caught my eye on International Women’s Day. I had stumbled upon her space during an open studios event at Sawyer Yards. Her artwork, brimming with goddess energy and fantastical women of myth, whispered to something ancient in me. I knew I’d be back.

And so I returned.

We began the workshop by choosing a spot around the table. Cheryl invited us to choose some materials she provided over on a side table. She welcomed us into a grounding ritual and invited us to ponder this quote:
“Wisdom whispers in the spaces we stop filling.”
Immediately, I felt the resonance. So much of my life has been shaped by listening for the whispers—the subtle threads that pull at the soul when we finally stop rushing, stop performing, stop proving.

She offered us six guiding words:
Wisdom. Curiosity. Clarity. Intuition. Insight. Surprise.
And then she began to speak of Athena.

As she shared stories of the goddess—of her origins, her strengths, her paradoxes—I found myself doodling and free-writing. These were the words that poured out of me:
Wisdom. Born. Emerged. Powerful. Knowing. Weaver. Holding both logic and intuition with equal grace. Act. Wait. Imagination. Voice. Wonder. Becoming. Power. Instinct. Transform. Sacred. Healing.

I drew a woman with long hair in a dress holding a spear.

It was a quiet invocation. A remembering.

We were given small journals and let loose among tables of textured paper, paint, glue, and possibility. I sifted through the bits and scraps—various colored papers, , bits of textured objects, words torn from forgotten books—and began layering my pages with instinct more than plan. Cheryl taught us about focal points, about contrast and composition and the rule of thirds. But mostly, she invited us into creative play.

I chose these words to anchor each page:

• Page 1: Wisdomkeeper
• Page 2: Authentic
• Page 3: Wild Oracle and Moonlight Glow
• Page 4: Free
• Page 5: Soul

And then—without overthinking it—I added tiny mirror tiles to each page. A small act, but deeply intentional. These mirrors were more than decoration. They were reflections of myself in Athena. Or perhaps reflections of Athena in me.

Through her, I found pieces of myself I hadn’t fully seen. The one who leads with intuition and intellect. The one who waits for the right moment to act, and then moves with clarity. The weaver of both stories and strategies. The woman who listens to wonder.

This mirrored gaze reminded me of something else—a strange little thread from the day before. I had awakened with a vivid sensation of reading a book, the word gaze appearing again and again, always in italics. The repetition felt important, though I wasn’t sure why.

But now I think I understand.

Gaze is presence. It’s recognition. It’s the sacred act of seeing—and being seen.

This art workshop wasn’t just a creative exercise. It was a ritual of reflection. A temple of texture and metaphor. A way of gazing into the myth of Athena, and finding my own myth staring back.

I walked away not just with a handmade journal, but with a deeper knowing:
I, too, am a Wisdomkeeper.
I am both strategy and spirit.
I am becoming.
And the goddess—like the gaze—is within.

Cheryl is having more workshops, once a month on the third Saturday throughout the summer. For more information, see her website:

https://cherylrussell.art/classes