I hope you’ve had a restful weekend. This week, I thought I’d post a line-drawing from February, using my 0.3 Copic Multiliner. I kind of wore the 0.3 down on this one.
I was missing the grass and flowers and a feeling of flourishing. I think at the time, I was also feeling in the midst of a tangle and transition (without a clear path forward in sight) and moving at about a snail pace (at least, that’s how it felt). Sometimes, I am the snail on top, dangling on a thing and looking for solid ground in all the jumble; at other times, I’m the snail on the bottom, on stable earth and looking for a sense of voyage. Both must reckon with the unknown.
Through the drawing, I realized that life-thickets have their own splendor if we can stop and look around. Maybe what feels like an impasse is a sign that things are taking time, growing in complexity and diversity. Maybe a new way forward is forming. Perhaps something (something) is coming into fruition in a way we can’t yet perceive. In any case, let’s hope these snail pals can make it through the thicket and reunite!
I hope you are enjoying some real grass and green thickets of your own, now that Spring is in swing.
This week sees a new knitting friend to add to last week’s: a toucan who is enjoying some knitting and sunlight in a purple lopapeysa sweater.
I have always loved toucans and their stunning colours — they are the opposite of camouflage, brazenly themselves. At least that’s how I think of it.
And Spring is a good time for artists (I am speaking for myself). The return of the sun makes colours extra vivid, bringing out their worlds of feeling. The surfaces and textures of stitches, fabric, and fiber become more brilliant, too. Working outdoors or with windows ajar, I feel connected to the slow sprouting of life around me. A quiet sweetness of being becomes possible.
Hello, there. Friday seems to have crept up on me. What a busy week it has been. I didn’t want it to slip by without a post, though — so today, a recent picture of a feline fiber friend.
Drawn in my favourite Faber-Castell pencils, this kitty is a keeper and collector. In time for Spring, she comes with a provisioning energy, reminding me that all of the little bits and bobs that I once squirreled away for Winter (the metaphorical and the literal one) are still useful. Those collected and once-dormant winter-stored bits are ready to be brought out and given new life. “Here they are!” the kitty says, as the yarn hovers up and into a blue sky of possibility. Maybe it is high time that I return to my stash.
Have you tapped into keeping or collecting energies lately? Or maybe rediscovered a long-hidden stash of semi-forgotten goodies? The life of the maker is full of hidden treasure.
Whether you’re spinning up a storm, gathering skeins from that big basket of yarn, or are simply allowing some colours and remnants to commingle and dream themselves into something new, this kitty is for you.
Happy Friday. I hope you’ve enjoyed a good week. We are coming out of our nth blizzard here in the Midwest. Just 10 days ago, some of the sights in our neck of the woods included…
frosty rooftops and cars buried in snow
… and an icy new look for our local park’s field house.
This week, in contrast, has seen us enter into a slow thaw. The thaw has its own qualities which I’ve been trying to observe. It’s a transitional time of drippy icicles (caution above!), slick sidewalks, muddied snow, and sock-soaking pavement pools of dark grey meltwater — a time both quiet and swishy, full of subtle movement. The windows come open to let in new light and new air, and in the mornings, prattles of birds (yes, inventing my own plural noun) commingle with the sound of shovel-scrapes. A few afternoons ago, that fearsome three story ice column came crashing down (we heard and felt it from a distance away). The sky is softening and blue-ening (verb?) again. Out of the ice comes a brightness.
Funnily, I think that the bullet journal spread that I drew a few weeks ago for thisweek captures the feeling above — not the usual confetti-throw of florals that I’ve enjoyed drawing all winter, but a slow bloom out of the greys and ice. I hope that you, too, are enjoying a bloom, in whatever form yours is taking.
And while we’re on this theme: As I’ve noted in the Saturday 27th slot above, we’re expecting a Full Moon tomorrow. It’s the first full moon of the lunar calendar — February’s Snow Moon (aptly named) or, in Chinese, the “Budding Moon.” It signals that a new cycle of inception and renewal is quietly brewing, and is on its way. I hope you can catch a glimpse of it! 🌕
Just a sketchbook comic today. I speak for myself when I say that, after a near year of lots of bad (TV) news, hints of good news have come to feel strange and unfamiliar. While the news has started reporting some promising developments, it’s been murky trying to envision a horizon out of the current collective moment. I find myself still processing the last year, gingerly trying to move forward in a sort of tenuous way…
I’m coming to terms with the shakiness. I take comfort in art, friends, fiber, books, blogging, imagination, and… these cats!
Wishing you a good week, and much good news. Until next time.