Wednesday, January 30, 2013

The Write to Survive

I want to write.
I said it.
I really, really want to write.

I want to write something brilliant.
Something moving.
Something important and inspiring and...

The same advice is given over and over.
Write what you know.

What if people don't want to know what I know?
What if I don't want people to know what I know?
What if I don't even want to know what I know?
What if what I know doesn't matter?
What if I know too much? too little?

I want my words to matter.
I don't want them to be judged.
Good luck with that, right?

This piece of wood represents how I feel lately.
Weathered and worn yet beautiful to the right eye.
So much lost yet so much left.
Fragile yet strong.
Lying silently still, full of untold stories.

I often feel lost.
Perhaps more hidden.
Like the decomposing log in the woods.
Quietly blending in, trying to survive,
yet in spite of all efforts, slowly weathering away.
Waiting to be found, to be seen, to have its beauty and story noticed, captured, appreciated.

Weathered and worn after many a storm.
My eyes bore deeper into the decomposing layers.
The answer emerges gently.
Life. Inside.

Much of my story is that of survival.
I still have so much life inside.
Screw survival.
It's time to live!

Thursday, January 24, 2013

No Time

"I'm late! I'm late! For a very important date!"

Before I head out today
I wanted to share 

I'm trying to get more comfortable at putting myself out there. I am a student of encaustics. Not a perfectionist, not a brilliant artist, just someone who shows up to the medium to see what lessons it will be teaching me that day.

I am hoping to list them in my Etsy Shop soon.

Have a brilliant and lovely day!

Tuesday, January 22, 2013

For A Good Cause

    An idea has been rolling around in my head. Actually, that's been happening a lot lately. Recently I became aware of an organization called One Billion Rising and I want to rise with. 
    There are no events happening near me but I did find a site that was promoting an art show that was accepting entries. A meager $15 to enter a piece of art. Whether the piece is accepted or not, the entrance fee goes to support worthy causes for women. If the piece sells at show, a portion of the money is kept and donated as well.
     A picture came to my mind. I wanted to create it. Not a masterpiece for a museum. Simple storytelling. The Call for Entries stated "Entries should evoke a sense of women's empowerment and overcoming obstacles and/or be a celebration of the way the world can be when violence against women no longer exists."
     I created a piece. Not being exactly happy with it, hubby made suggestions and told me to create another. Once the pieces were created, I went back to the site to find the information. I knew I had to enter with an electronic file, then mail a check. What I overlooked was the fact that if a piece was accepted in to the show, it required hand delivery. Snafu city. The gallery is fifteen hours away! Drat.
     No event near me. No gallery entrance. No luck this go round. Perhaps I'll end up selling it in a local shop and send the proceeds to One Billion Rising or my local Women's Shelter. 
     I give myself an "E" for effort. A step up from an "F" at least! Anyway, here are the encaustic pieces for what they're worth.  

Friday, January 18, 2013

Creativity Kicking In

My last post was a teaser to an idea I conjured up recently. My mind has been bubbling over with ideas lately. A few weeks ago my husband gifted me an iPad for our anniversary (I love you honey!). Something sparked inside my brain on a visit to our library a few days later. There is an adorable coffee shop in the basement that also sells used books. I spotted a book on a shelf that was just the right size and only $2 (what a steal).

I purchased the book and cut the cover off. Gulp! Yes. I destroyed a perfectly good (but old) book. Being a bibliophile, I used to have major issues with the thought of destroying books for any reason. I still have great respect for books and teach my children to respect books. That being said, I also found out how many old books end up in landfills every year. The landfill! 

Decorative paper lines the inside walls.

Taking old books and repurposing into useful items, reclaiming pages, spines etc... for the sake of art, or just plain recycling them makes so much more sense.

I got over my fear of destroying the book as my intentions were to make it useful in a different way. I turned it into a carry case for my iPad! The signatures are still intact and being enjoyed by my family as a coverless book. When we are done using the pages for historical lessons and viewing pleasure (gorgeous pictures), we will use them to create art. All remaining material will be recycled.

Win, win, win!

The sides of the carry case are made from strips of jeans material from an old torn pair of my son's jeans. The inside is lined with decorative paper covered pizza box panels. The carry handles came from a gift bag received years ago.

iPad carry case.

It was a challenge to create but I am absolutely thrilled with how it turned out.

Thursday, January 17, 2013


Torn and broken?
Awaiting reclamation?

Tuesday, January 15, 2013


My head is full
swirling and twirling
mixing and hurling
words then thousand at a time.

Thoughts created
settling in my mind.

I open the page
the cold blank stare
who will care
about the words they find.

The depth of thought
I ought not,
better to leave behind.

Write what you know
is what I'm told
but what I know
isn't always kind.

There is pain and fear
and horrors to hear
most wish to stay blind.

Perhaps write what you learn
little bird as you grow
the seeds that are sown
are much more refined.

Share the joy at the end
of the lessons my friend
then you'll do just fine.

But I know what I know
and perhaps others will grow
if they open their mind
and see life through my eyes.

The one thing I fear
yet pray to hear
"You have been found and you are divine."

I dive into the page
slowly finding my way
fear subsides as I transcribe
the mess from which I hide.

Wednesday, January 9, 2013

Silent Listening

"The word listen contains the same letters as the word silent." 
~Alfred Brendel

I really love that quote. I have been sitting with it for some time. I have been reading (slowly) a book about listening. "Seven Thousand Ways To Listen; Staying Close to What is Sacred" by Mark Nepo.

Slowing down, appreciating all that is around me, practicing silence, learning to really listen. Silent listening certainly allows for a closer connection to life.

I am not a silent person. I am a talker. Whether I was born that way or it is a condition, a reflex, a coping mechanism I developed due to the harshness of life, I cannot be certain. This past year has found me to be much quieter. I have been doing a lot of soul searching, reflecting and personal growth. I have been trying to discover my authentic self in order to save myself. I am learning the importance of listening. Not just listening to all the 'noise' that slams at our ears every day (chatter, the blaring radio, traffic), but genuinely, slowing down and taking notice of the most minuscule of messages listening allows for.

If you slow down and really listen, you can hear the subtleties of life that might normally pass you by. The slight sigh from a loved one that lets you know they are content, or perhaps the sound of a slightly heavier sigh that declares subtly but certainly, "I need a hug". 

You hear the true meaning behind someones words. What used to sound like gossip now sounds like someone who is unhappy with their life, therefore talking about others to take the focus off their own issues.

You hear your own heart. Its happiness and joys, the fears, the sadness. You hear it more clearly allowing for changes to be made.

Mother Nature offers a plethora of sounds to meditate upon and if you sit in silence listening long enough, your soul will answer in response to all that nature provides.

Last night I insisted the entire family pile into the van in snow gear with sleds in the rear. We drove to a local sledding hill. The sun was setting, the snow on the hill packed to a solid, slippery base. Luck had the hill empty upon arrival. The sun was setting. I stood at the top of the hill and silently observed.

The sun was setting. Orange filled the horizon stacked with yellow, followed by a baby blue sky. Dark cirrus clouds completed the top most layer. The colors were brilliant. There was a line of trees in front of the setting sun. Deciduous trees barren of their leaves while they stood sleeping the winter away. They appeared black standing majestically up against the magic sunset.

In front of me were five amazing, lovely, brilliant human beings sailing down the hill over and over. Whoosh went the sleds. Screams and/or silence on the way down exchanged with laughter upon landing safely at the bottom. Chattering their way back up for another round, traded for huffing and puffing the closer they reached the top of the climb. Sitting, shifting, preparing. Down, down, down again.

The sky filled with darkness. There is a light at the top of the hill. As they made their way to the bottom, they appear to disappear as the darkness enveloped them one, two, three, four, five. After some time, a train was heard off in the distance, its whistle piercing the cold, quiet air. The kids stop, turn, listen, wait, watch. Weighing heavily on the cold steel tracks, the earth moves and rumbles and shakes.

Reaching their fill of observation, the family turned once again to climb the hill. Once again they sail to the bottom with only the sound of sled on snow, reaching their destination upon which time the chatter and laughter would begin again.

So much to listen to on that hill.  The sound that stood out the most in that moment of presence, of silent listening, was the sound of my own heart filling with joy, happiness, pride. Love was swooshing from chamber to chamber, whispering "This. This is what life is about."

Friday, January 4, 2013

Old Baggage

I'm trying very hard not to drag my old fears and insecurities into the new year.
I'm not sure where you drop old baggage off.
Perhaps we need an old baggage drop-off place.

an hour and a half later...

What an "ah-ha" moment that was for me!

It's a work in progress, but let's see where it goes, shall we?

Old Baggage Drop-off

Wednesday, January 2, 2013

Hello New Year!

It's going to be a good year.
There. I said it.
The intention is out there.
The seed of belief has been planted.
I will nurture it and water it and watch it grow.
Bloom and grow baby!
Yup. It's going to be an excellent year.
Related Posts with Thumbnails