Tribe Conference 2017 reeved the engines when our fearless leader presented as The starving Michelangelo. The painting, Jeff Goins repeated with feeling, “I am so hungry.” Mini Jeff, the charming Aiden, handed Michelangelo a green apple. (Green apples, we later learned, were the staple of the green room.) Michealangelo was no longer starving, demonstrating, “Real artists don’t starve.”
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An energetic concert began to unfold beginning with community in strands of blue and green.
Rachel Bagby took sparkling red thread and taught the 10 syllable Dekaaz, 2,3 and 5 at a time.
I wove: Ex-plore Build to reach Toward Helopause.
Yes, Marsha, Yes with shining silver and yellow yarn encouraged a room packed with introverted artist to embrace the misery of interaction. At each speaker bow, Jeff returned and wove each recent concept into a our evolving masterpiece.
Monster Fear jumped forward. Ishita Gupta stood and conquered the paralysis of our minds.
Jeff gave two conference members shiny gold tickets to his signature class “Tribe Writers”, welcoming new growth.
The awesome Janice Aldridge clobbered with a golden hammer my excuses with Kindle and I was scooped into action. Jeff wove the shiny gold hammer into the center of the project if you need to borrow it.
“Be good to yourself and do one thing. Just do one thing and finish it vibrated through our veins.”
Master creator Sean McCabe splashed us with red and gold, “Create as much as you consume.”
The room free danced to the beat flowing through the shimmering woven concepts.
Crystal Paine with calming blue said, “I get to choose.”
I began to rewrite my calendar with a shiny silver pen now woven next to the hammer.
With new glowing colored threads Jeff queried successful peers and wove their brightly shining threads into the masterwork.
Dan Miller reflected my timeline of classic gurus.
”Write to bank” he stamped in black ink on our foreheads.
Chocolate appeared. Seriously. Serious Chocolate.
Jon Acuff injected our ambitions with concept “timeless”. “Would our work be read in 2024 in Thai?”
A bright and shining carefully woven masterpiece enveloped us with shimmering restful hope.
Is it a road or a map? I was not sure.
Holding my hand up to block the bright rays I grasp,
“Did Jeff weave a Rainbow?
Can I produce work for the ages?