Metamorphosis
I sow seeds in my shadow And watch what dares to grow. From that inhospitable dry soil, Blooms a harvest plentiful. I pick an apple of deception, Lure perfection into temptation, Knowing death as a transition I escape my own damnation.
Make a collage from the images that call to you. Then write your way into what it’s trying to tell you.
A slow, guided practice at your own kitchen table. You follow what catches your eye, and gentle prompts help you put into words what showed up on the page. No art or writing experience needed.
Self-paced online workshop8 video lessonsPrintable workbookLifetime access14-day refund
Most writing classes start with a blank page. This one starts with scissors. By the time you sit down to write, you already have something to say. It’s on the table in front of you.

A guided meditation to land at the table and leave the to-do list in the other room.
Choose five to seven images that catch your eye. Cut around them, move them around, glue them down. Follow what pulls you.

Step back and look at your collage the way a stranger would. Which image did you place first? Where does your eye keep going?

Simple prompts move you from what you see, to what you notice, to what the piece might be saying. You finish with a draft that is yours.
From my own practice. Each collage came first. Each poem came from sitting with it afterwards. Yours will look nothing like mine, and that’s the point.
I sow seeds in my shadow And watch what dares to grow. From that inhospitable dry soil, Blooms a harvest plentiful. I pick an apple of deception, Lure perfection into temptation, Knowing death as a transition I escape my own damnation.
Standing on a pile of lessons I look up These experiences have made me whole. The masks I’ve had to wear Showed me who I’m not My inner-most essence is still intact. Standing on a pile of memories I remember who I lost, who I was, and who I’ll always be. This pile has broken me down, but has also brought me up high. The flower that grows from it May sting sometimes, But it’s always in bloom.
I rest and trust In the love from God In the wisdom of nature And in the knowing that I’m a part of them too. I’m the lesson and the learner. I’m the observed and the observer Because what I see in the sky Is being seen with my own eye. From the shooting star to the forest sounds. The healing that I look for is already found. All that I need is already mine.
I kept choosing doors and windows. I didn’t notice until Ana asked which image I placed first. I’ve been wanting to leave my job for two years.
It’s easier than it sounds. I hadn’t made anything since high school art class, and I never felt lost.
I cried at my own table, and I’m not a crier. Something came out in the writing that I didn’t know I was carrying.
The first video of the workshop, filmed in Bali, exactly as you’ll see it inside.
From the Greek ἔκφρασις. Say it “EK-fruh-sis.”
It’s one of the oldest ideas in writing. Almost 3,000 years ago, the Greek poet Homer was telling the story of a war. In the middle of it, he stopped to describe one thing: a warrior’s shield.
He described it so closely, with its cities, weddings, farmers and dancers, that people could see it just from his words. Centuries later, an English artist used those words as instructions and actually made it. That’s the shield you see here.
Poets have done this ever since: look closely at a piece of art, then write what they see and feel. In this workshop you do the same. The only difference is that the art you write about is the one you just made.
Before I ever taught it, this was my own practice. I’d make a collage, then write about what I saw in it, and it helped me more than I expected.
The first time I shared it with a group was at my first women’s retreat in Bali. We spread old magazines down a long table, cut and arranged for an afternoon, and then wrote from what we made. It became a lot of people’s favorite workshop of the week.
Since then I’ve taught it in dozens of live workshops. This recorded version lets you do it at home, on your own time.
“A lot of creativity I didn’t realize I had.”
Lynette · Bali retreat
“I was totally scared, wasn’t sure I’d fit in, have no artistic ability.”
Shelina, Toronto · Bali retreat
“Paintings, batik printing, poetry, collages… I was blown out of my mind.”
Falguni · Bali retreat


Pronounced like “beige”
Artist, retreat host & creative guide
I’m a Brazilian artist living in Austin, Texas. I studied law before I gave myself permission to make art. For years I designed art-based experiences for teams in Silicon Valley. Then my husband and I spent two years traveling through more than 30 countries, and Bali changed everything. I held my solo exhibition, Within, in Ubud, and today I host creative retreats for women there.
At those retreats and at my workshops, I kept seeing the same thing. So many women had lost touch with their inner artist. Collage and poetry brought her back faster than anything else I teach, so I recorded it for every woman who can’t fly to Bali right now.
Ana

14-day refund. If it isn’t for you, email ana@anabeij.com within 14 days and I’ll refund you in full.
Yes. You cut out images that catch your eye and move them around until something feels right. Nothing is graded and nothing needs to look a certain way. Most women who come to my workshops say they aren’t artists.
The prompts start with small, concrete questions: what you see, what it might smell or sound like, what you noticed first. You answer one at a time, then gather your answers into a draft. Your first answers are usually the ones to trust.
The moment you join. It’s recorded, so you press play whenever you have some quiet time, and pause whenever you need to.
Old magazines or books you’re willing to cut, scissors, a glue stick, a sturdy sheet of paper or cardboard, and a pen. The workbook has a full checklist and a page on where to find images for free.
For life. Many people come back to it when something in their life shifts. A new collage tells you something new.
Yes. The videos play on a phone, tablet or computer. Printing the workbook is easiest, but you can write in any notebook.
No. It’s a creative practice. When you slow down and look closely, feelings sometimes come up. You can pause, take a break, or keep any part of it just for yourself.
Yes, it works well with a friend at the same table. Each person joins with their own access so you both get the workbook.
Email ana@anabeij.com within 14 days of joining and you’ll get a full refund.
Make something, then listen to what it has to say.
Start the workshop $358 video lessons · Printable workbook · Lifetime access · 14-day refund