How are you? How the time (another 2 weeks) has passed.
With summer just around the corner, I thought I’d bring out the brightest colours in the pencil box.
I notice, on my walks, that on overcast days, the grass and the garden beds take on a luminous glow. It’s as if the muted light of a grey sky allows for the gardens to deepen their hues. On these greyer days, the colours seem to call out to my visual field (or maybe my eye goes looking for them instinctively). They take on a new saturation that feels unusual and familiar at the same time (were the colours always this glowing?). Maybe this is one of the consolations of the grey day — the recession of light allows for colours to reveal a new kind of splendour.
Hello friends, I hope you are doing well. I seem to be heading towards a bi-weekly blogging habit. It’s less than I’d like, but I am rolling with it for now.
We (our household) are in the middle of a major life transition. Let’s say it’s one that involves getting rid of/packing up all of our stuff, getting in a car and making a new life in a new place. A move! A big one. A big move that follows on 12 years of accumulated life and memories and things (so. many. things.). This work has taken a bit of the wind out of my blogging sails. If my future posts tend toward moving-related themes, that is why.
Art has been helping me to reflect on the process of moving. I drew this picture in pencils late winter this year. I remember wanting to depict the process of creating something in my mind — to show how shapes and colours move around and turn into an idea. This state of play and possibility is one of my favourite creative experiences; it’s a source of motivation and energy that I don’t find anywhere else (not even in writing).
Returning to the drawing more recently, I noticed some curious details. In the background, there are ‘raw materials’ grounding the image in grey while the colourful forms hover over them, searching (in my mind) for a medium to land on. This speaks true to my experience: when it comes to making, I can’t stably predict what medium I’ll be compelled to try. My interests migrate around a lot, and my different projects can appear disjointed and disconnected. But, this picture helps me to realize that there is one creative impulse and energy that undergirds all of that wandering. I am coming to terms with having been a wanderer for a very long time.
But. There is also the image of the house, the dwelling place. I have been thinking a lot about the creative work of un/re making one’s home, and that helps me find joy in the big task ahead of me. It’s hard to say goodbye to 12 years of things and the memories attached to them, but when I have trouble deciding on what to keep, I ask myself, “What kind of life do I wish to live?” or “What is the most loving version of life that I can envision — for myself and others?” If the object contributes to that vision in some way, then it’s a keeper. Visioning / imagining in a loving way has been central to my process.
Even though many of my craft supplies have had to be down-sized (majorly), my biggest consolation is knowing that creativity abides. Ideas yet-to-be-realized abide. Inspiration abides, as does the quiet little voice inside. There is a freedom in knowing that, whatever needs to be shed for now, there will always be good walks, good friends, and the colours of the world. This sense of what abides allows me to stay in touch with a feeling of abundance through the lean years and scarce periods of the past, and now, the goodbye.
While rifling through heaps of paper, looking for a long-lost set of notes (which I never did find in the end), I rediscovered my Artagain pad of Strathmore drawing paper in coal black. I had been looking for it for months and was excited to find it.
I had to try my new pencils on the pad right away, and had in mind to create another little garden — the kind I never seem to tire of drawing these days — but something glowing, alive, and luminous. I gathered the pencils that ‘glowed’ the most, assembled some of my favourite greens, and took to the drawing board. My favourite way to work entails no pre-penciling, but letting the stalks and blooms grow onto the page as they come, one after another, with a sense of commingling colour in fun ways. This sometimes results in forms that look more like fried eggs than flowers (bottom right), but that is ok. Just looking at this garden fills me with a sense of tenderness.
I hope you enjoy this night-time scene and its small, moon-lit world.
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.