strange places…

i do not like knowing where i’m going,

wandering in strange woods,

whistling and following bread crumbs.”

- tilda swinton 

i much prefer to meandering, without crumbs.  you never know what you may find.  who you may meet.  what wonders may present themselves.  sometimes, though, the greatest adventure is simply meeting yourself!  finding some aspect long forgotten…or not yet known.  

considering edges

"i want to stand

as close to the edge

as i can

without going over.

out on the edge

you see all kinds of things

you can't see

from the center."

-kurt vonnegut

the skies this morning are sitting on the edge between endless sunshine and thunderous storms. the morning itself is and edge. between darkness and light. chill and warmth. is it no small wonder that i find myself considering edges?

in art, no matter the medium, the edge is as important as the center, the focus, of the piece.  how that edge is contained. or left wild and free. how the edges interact with the environment around it. do the edges set boundaries? redirecting the eye back into the center. or do they invite the viewer to explore new vistas? drawing one beyond the confines of the piece into unknown territories.

when we entertain going beyond the edges, we talk about pushing the envelope. this implies that we are inside the envelope. with everyone else. trapped. constrained. that we are trying to find the edges on the outside. so we can move them. but if we simply move the edges, we are still sitting safely inside them.

i prefer to think of edges as doorways. passages beyond, yes, but also portals of return. allowing us to roam the endless possibilities while still beckoning us home once again. to rediscover ourselves in light of new understandings. new experiences.  to explore the treasures we find elsewhere. the ideas. the techniques. and to integrate them with our own evolving sense of style and interaction with the world through our art.

will you step through that doorway?

namaste'

shoes full of slush

"spring is when you feel

like whistling even with

a shoe full of slush."

-doug larson

the winter blahs have been hanging heavily in the winter mist here in montana, or so it seems to be the case in the manhandled threads studio. the creative juices have been sluggish...resistant to anything but slumber.

now the sun is putting in an appearance for a change and spring is hinting at arriving. my fingers are itching again. finding needle and thread and at least warming up with some random bits of embroidery and hand sewing. it feels good to stretch creatively and feel the return of a creative drive!

namasté

bunnies and bernards

whenever i find myself sitting idle, i long to grab a fragment and needle chant a while.  i don't always act on those longings these days. sometimes i breathe into the idleness and just sit with it. relaxing and simply being. i know, for me, this can be an escape.  from what, i'm not certain. so i remind myself how fulfilling the needle and thread can be. allow it to become the meditation that it can be.  to that end, i found myself stitching away at my little purple bunny this evening.  

after an enriching bit of of time with cloth fragments and thread, i took bodhi for a ride.  my little teacup saint bernard. or so i keep telling him.  only 16 months and already 150.6 pounds of puppy. he takes up every bit of bench seat in my truck that isn't already occupied by my own butt.  he loves to spend time with his daddy.  the feeling is mutual.

namaste'

giving way

"the creative process

is a process of surrender,

not control."

-julia cameron

having these past few weeks off from work, i've been gifted with something very precious. time. time to contemplate. time to invest in myself. my surroundings. my art.  time for things i have had very little time for these past couple years.  while physical limitations have demanded that i find ways of creating things using a different process than i have become accustomed to, they have also encouraged me to think in new ways. as well as to re-discover old ways.

creatively, i find myself falling back onto past processes with cloth. oiling up the treadle machine and piecing blocks. like these hearts above.  traditional piecing. even traditional quilting fabrics, for i have an extensive collection of quilting fabrics that have languished while i have jumped headlong into salvage and repurposed cloth. ignored for no reason other than my desire to control how i express my creativity. to direct its every movement. stifling it along the way without even realizing it.

i have always been about control. control over myself. my process. my plans.  i know that this sense of control is an illusion. but it is an enticing illusion. full of empty promises that delight the self's desire to be at the helm.  i have seen how grasping for this sense of control can kill one's creativity.  throwing up fences and laying down rules. squelching any real sense of manifesting one's art. one's self.  one must find a way to surrender. to the moment. each moment. to allow the creative process to emerge. whether that creative process is enacted through artistic endeavours, one's employment, cooking a meal, or any other daily task of living.

it's all about the surrender. allowing. being.

namaste'

"rabbit underground,

rabbit safe and sound"

-richard adams, watership down

there is a fat little bunny who lives just off the porch in this cozy little nest of dried grasses and snow caps. plump and round and as fluffy as a bunny can be.  he spends most of his days hopping about the yard, eating what grasses and leaves he can find (there is a veritable smorgasbord here). i spend much of my idle time watching him...eyeing me curiously as he munches away. it seems funny that he has the little green gate at his doorway. seemingly blocking any untoward visitors. apparently he does not consider me untoward as he seems genuinely unafraid of my comings and goings.  half-remembered images from some long ago watched monty python film linger in the dark recesses of my memory whenever i approach his doorway.  perhaps i shall simply heed the whispered cinematic advice and "run away"!

meanwhile, a growing of pile of cloth fragments and threads are calling...  i feel some needle chanting is forthcoming. a welcome and long awaited return to creativity.

namaste'

subversive sunrise

"the morning always has a way of creeping up on me and peeking in my bedroom windows. the sunrise is such a pervert."

-jarod  kintz 

stitching did not find my fingers this weekend,  though I did play with cloth fragments for a while. nothing worth photographing. however, this morning's sunrise was awe inspiring! perhaps there is a cloth in this one...

namaste'

stumbling through the dance

"the only way

to make sense

out of change

is to plunge into it,

move with it,

and join the dance."

-alan watts

this year has been an interesting journey down new and unfamiliar paths. changes in work. friendships. companionship.  sometimes i forget to stop trying to make sense of it all and simply allow it all to unfold. usually,  this finds me tipped head first into the quagmire of confusion.  but sooner or later i manage to pull my head out my nether orifice and I stumble forward again.

so i pick up a needle. stub some thread through its eye and begin again. these stars have been quietly whispering for snowflakes to join their gentle dance in the quiet sky above the man standing in the snow.  

here's to the warmth that blankets your spirit when you engage in doing something you love again after a long hiatus...

namaste'

on the road again...

"what's this? blueberries!!

oh, oh my god!

oh, that's better than sex!"

-stewie griffin

there is nothing quite like fresh blueberries in the morning! these little babies found their way into a lovely smoothie, along with a banana, some homemade peanut butter and protein powder. yum!

still fighting what seems to have become an endless parade of colds (or one mega-monster of one) so haven't felt up to needle chanting...or much of anything lately besides sleeping in between shifts. 

i'm headed over to mom and dad's for a week and a half. got the saint, some scraps and some more of these blueberries to munch on along the way. perhaps this will be just what the doctor ordered to eradicate this nasty cold!

namaste'

creative chaos

"don't think.

thinking is the enemy of creativity.

it's self-conscious,

and anything self-conscious is lousy.

you can't try to do things.

you simply must do things."

-ray bradbury

i ought to find something in this drawer that'll work...

it's been snowing these past couple days and night. snowing and bitter cold. well, bitter cold by spring's standards at any rate.

in keeping with the bradbury quote above (which, by the way, hangs prominently in my studio), i've been reaching past the threads and bits of cloth. ignoring thoughts. forgetting thinking. fingers grasping wires and solder and wood. can't help it. that cigar box guitar bug has bitten my butt hard!

almost finished with the first rendition....

namaste'

getting somewhere

the first step toward getting somewhere

is to decide that you are not going

to stay where you are...

spring has made several false starts these past weeks. the icy grip of winter always seems to tighten its grasp and chase the warm winds away just as we begin to enjoy their touch. perhaps a little bunny energy will help spring along...

sometimes all it takes is the gumption to make another start. whether it be fresh and brand new or picking up something from before and starting again, it will always propel you in a new direction!

namaste'

faulty gears

"happiness does

not depend on

what you have

or

who you are

it solely relies on

what you think"

-buddha

ever drive a stick with a slipping gear? you step on the gas and start out roaring down the road, then shift into that faulty gear and the power slips. the car stalls. the engine revs, trying to find the intended gear. you begin to wonder if you are going to end up on the side of the road waiting for a tow that may takes hours on end to arrive. i've been feeling like this a lot lately.

i will be buzzing along. needles chanting. cloth becoming art. then all of a sudden, something slips and i am left on the wayside. cloth languishing. needles silent. i can see the vision of where i was going slowly fading in the distance. left wondering what happened. how did i end up standing here forgetting where i was headed?

as you may have noticed, these past few weeks have been filled with these moments. hence the noted absence of regular posts. i wish i could sit back. eyes closed. serene smile upon my lips. and dive into an exit strategy. share this gem of wisdom on how to emerge victorious from such blindsided derailments. but i haven't found that gem yet.

in the meantime, i hope you will bear with the random silences. perhaps even empathise. and know that i will find that treasure one day and share it with you. but until that time, i will keep slipping back into lower gears and trudging along at whatever creative speed the vehicle of my imagination will allow...

namaste'

this. that. and the other thing.

"man is born broken.

he lives by mending."

-eugene o'neill

there are always opportunities for mending. how we choose to mend them is what sets us apart. do we mend to conceal? or mend to embellish? or simply ignore it altogether and see the beauty in the wabi sabi nature of things?

over-winding an old wood spool with softly hand-dyed thread. new shape. i stepped on the scales this morning after thinking my jeans were feeling somewhat snug. i am feeling in a rather round mood today.

nicky is getting old and grey. he soon will follow my elderly ward beyond the veil. i have not really been sad. i do not cry when one moves beyond the veil for i know that "dying" is simply a transition from one state to another. for, as the buddha once taught us, "everything is changeable, everything appears and disappears; there is no blissful peace until one passes beyond the agony of life and death." loved ones will be missed. but there is truly no sorrow in their passing.

i read somewhere: don't cry because it's over. smile because it happened. this shall be my focus for a while.

namaste'

hearing silence

today was a quiet, listening sort of day. it is strange how the quieter we become, the more we are able to hear. after dropping the saint off at doggy day care (to give her some time with other doggy types), i spent the better part of the day just observing and learning from piper. learning about silence. about nurturing oneself. about resting. about seeing what does not appear to be there. it is an exercise i have not partaken of lately. one that i realize i sorely miss and highly recommend!

namaste'

winter wanders in

it would seem our lovely, prolonged autumn has finally given way to winter. temperatures have dropped into the teens and twenties and six inches of snow fluttered down from the skies to blanket the countryside with glistening wonder.

not all of the leaves have had a chance to make peace with their lives and let go of the branches overhead. but they will find their time, perhaps sooner than they had hoped.

it seems they are not the only ones not quite yet ready for winter to wander in. i still have hoses to wrap and stow away and covers to put in place on the the barbecue and the swamp cooler. not to mention a bit of burrowing into the closet to find warm winter coats and woolen shirts.

i shall be looking forward to spending more time by the fireplace, stitching cloth and watching the cat purr and slumber on his pillow next to the embers as the snow continues to assert itself on what appears to be promising a long, frigid winter...

namaste'

it's politickin' time

silent sunday - 10/21/12

"sometimes, when i first wake up,

i feel like i'm walking around in a fog.

that's when i usually go and

unplug the fog machine.

geez, who turned that thing on?"

-jarod kintz

it seems like that fog machine has been on all week. obscuring my days. hazing my thoughts. slowing my creativity. this morning was the only one that actually found the countryside blanketed by fog. the rest of the fog twisted and hovered in my brain. so i have slept. a lot.

between sleeping moments, i would rummage about through my stash. and my wardrobe. looking for dark cloth to salvage for box of darkness. i was surprised to find how lacking my stash of blacks is. i may have to scavenge through other people's wardrobes and duck into a thrift shop or two to round out my palette. perhaps broaden my scope of cloth acceptability to include deep hunter greens, heavy burgundies, rich midnight blues, and dark coffee browns.

meanwhile, i've tossed some scraps aside for a pair of wings. perhaps the fog will lift this week's end and i will find myself stitching...

i enjoyed this today. it reminded me there are many kinds of darknesses.

namaste'

an early snow

this morning greeted us with another flurry of wet snow clinging to branches. melting slowly into a slurry of mud and frigid nastiness. another good day to stay by the fire and play with cloth. but i am too tuckered today and think i am more apt to find myself snuggling into my favorite over-stuffed chair with my feet toasting by the fire while drowsing the day away.

it seems dreary days bring out the sloth in me...

namaste'

wintry break of day

the rising sun attempted to penetrate my frosted windows early this morning. peeking through my slitted lids to gently coax me awake. softly calling me to witness its autumnal splendor. sadly for the sun, my warm and comforting quilts won out. this glimpse was all i was to see as i rolled over and snuggled closer to the sleeping saint.

after a time, when sleep and the laziness of a morning off left me, i bundled myself into some warm clothes and went for a morning walk to allow the splendor of this fall morning to seep into my bones. yesterday's snows had melted, leaving behind puddles dotted with this morning's random rain drops. i left the saint at home, much to her disappointment. but the memory of her twitching with doggy dreams, nestled amongst warm quilts was much more inviting that the thought of her attempting to reclaim that comfortable spot covered in mud and leaves.

today will be a great day to sit by the fire and stitch...

namaste'