Retreating Years

December was an interesting month! Along with the normal busyness of the season, the influenza bug grabbed me by the teeth and wouldn't let go. I lost precious time which I'd allotted to finishing up Christmas gifts and instead of making things, I lolled in bed. My recovery was slow, but I did put my weak days into profitable use by listening to an audio book and reading snippets from other valuable sources. I can't wait to share what I've gained from that enforced time of quietness! It was tremendous!! I wonder if my heightened biological sensitivity also helped sensitize me spiritually? It's an interesting idea...

The book I listened to was Jan Karon's A New Song. I have a printed copy - and I think I'd even read it once. But to listen to it as I laid on the sofa, unable to do anything else, was just amazing. When I read, I buzz through the pages pretty fast and I pass over descriptive language too quickly. I don't take time to drink in the nuance of ideas. Listening to the story read to me was a a rich experience in hearing dialogue, mentally imaging situations and altogether just drinking in the story itself! I was pleased with the breadth of Jan Karon's insights and quotations and her ability to juxtapose. She skillfully entwines ordinary people with extraordinary kindness and generosity. She melds together humor and pathos. And there is always an underlying current of victory even when she brings out the sorrows of life. I find her quotations to be very inspiring and fitting.

Another book that deeply affected me is a small volume I happened to pick up at The Book Mouse in Ottawa when I went to a drama workshop held by my friend, Donna. The book, Meditations on Nature, Meditations on Silence is by Roderick MacIver and Ann O'Shaughnessy. Rod MacIver's artwork is beautiful and fitting as the images blend with the quotations. I found the quotes of various writers and artists to be invigorating and inspiring as they reflect on the need and value of quietness in the creative process. The book is published by Heron Dance, a nonprofit organization with a big idea. I am hoping that I can get permission from Rod MacIver to post a few of his watercolors and I'll continue to reflect on the quotes from his books. I signed up for a weekly meditation that they'll send via email. The subscription process is available on the website linked above.

The picture that I posted today is one that I made in early December when I was beginning to watch my various videos of "The Christmas Carol". The video version done with George C. Scott has a funeral cortege that looks a lot like this as it rumbles past him while he walks home on a gloomy Christmas Eve. I was thinking when I made this picture how quickly the years pass by and what a spiral life seems to be.

The concept of life being a spiral came through one of my favorite podcats, Cast-On by Brenda Dayne. It's a knitting podcast, but Brenda does such a splendid job with her podcast that she infuses it with much more than knitting. I find her challenging and energizing. On her latest podcast (72), she talks about life being a spiral. I've heard of people saying that life is a circle. Or that life is a straight line. The spiral idea was a new concept to me, and I've been thinking about it ever since. In podcast 72, Brenda has a segment with Kim Werker, former editor of the Interweave's Crochet and founder of CrochetMe. In this podcast, Brenda interviews Kim who talks about her own creative process. It was fascinating! Kim talks about being "a starter". She is an idea person who comes up with thousands of ideas and loves to interact with other creative people. She gets bored once an idea is off the ground and is ready to move onto the next creative venture. I could really relate to what she said. Her insights encouraged me as I saw myself shadowed in her own form of creativity.

SOOOO - all this blather is about this: I feel like the Lord dropped into my heart at the first of the year the slogan "Refine in 2009". This "refining" process can take many different forms as I begin to refine my home by purging it of stuff that I no longer use. Or it could take the process of "refining" as I continue to seek excellence and quality in the steps that I take and the things that I make. Or it could take the process of "refining" as I allow the Lord to remove from me those things which inhibit His life in me: jealousy, fear, etc. etc.

I am going to continue pressing into these things in 2009 and I'm going to write about them on this blog. It will be my own personal way to press more deeply into the creative processes that I want and need to explore.

WOO HOO I Found It!

Remember back several weeks ago (Sept. 4) when I was jabbering on about Carl Larsson and how much I liked his artwork and how inspiring his wife was to me? But I was at a loss because I couldn't find the book that talked about Karin and her clothing style?? Well, I finally found the book! It was lurking in the back of my closet (don't ask).

The book is Carl and Karin Larsson: Creators of the Swedish Style edited by Michael Snodin and Elisabet Stavenow-Hidemark (click here to see the cover). I got the book, years ago and for a song, from a Edward Hamilton Books catalog. There are lots and lots of beautiful pictures of the Larsson home and Carl Larsson's work. However, the part that I was telling you about is on page 178 and talks about Karin's clothes and furniture.

Karin did not confine herself to weaving and embroidery. By 1890 she had designed a remarkable plant stand. She designed a chandelier and beds; in 1906 she designed a rough, heavy rocking-chair and a square table for the new studio, pieces in which the function was obvious and the construction was not concealed. According to a Larsson family legend, the local cabinetmaker, who produced the original pieces of furniture, was so ashamed that he delivered them after dark.... They were clearly home-made, but the style was new and avant-garde....
As regards clothes, discreet Karin Larsson was just as conspicuously modern as in her textiles. ...(S)he wears dresses in a flowing style so distinctive that it has acquired the status of a Karin Larsson model.... ...(I)t is surprising that she dared to go against the accepted fashion.... The cut of clothes around the turn of the century, which accentuated a tiny waist, required corsets. Karin misled the eye by adopting fashionable details of the period, such as stand-up collars and leg-of-mutton sleeves. This created a modest impression, which made the observer forget that decent women should be corseted; the loosely hanging dresses were associated with 'loose' morals.
Karin also created comfortable clothes for the children, suitable for family life in the country. She used simple, robust fabrics and was fond of mixing patterns in a modern way. She did not fall for fashion trends....

The book goes on to talk about how Karin left nothing to waste and patched, mended and re-used everything. The furniture which she and Carl had was innovatively altered or painted which gave their home its distinctive and inspiringly fresh look. She was also not concerned with perfection. The end result seemed to be more important to her than the perfection of method in attaining her vision.

It is encouraging to hear or read about people who are not consumed with the herd instinct of needing to "fit in". I came across a Michael J. Fox quotation one day:

"I am careful not to confuse excellence with perfection. Excellence, I can reach for, perfection is God's business."

I suppose I will forever be on my quest for understanding excellence and quality. Karin Larsson did not superimpose perfection upon her creativity which therefore enabled the things she made to remain fresh, displaying a portrait of her own style, her own life.

Artistic Inspiration

I have an ancient manual typewriter that I've named "Stella". When things get too pushy around me, I reach under the bed and grab Stella's handle. We retire to the kitchen table or, when the sun shines, to the patio. We confer together. And in the slower pace of her clickety smack, sometimes a fresh thought will start to flow. She is faithful and her hard drive will never crash on me, although, her wardrobe is outdated which makes it rather challenging to keep her outfitted with ribbons.

Like the artist in this picture, I am in need of inspiration and I need an infusion from an old friend. Stella's keys are my brushes which, even though they only strike in black, have the ability to embed nuances of color every now and then.

Still...I am longing to reclaim my basement art studio and to lay hold of actual paint, brushes, needle and thread. There is something to be said for the tactile aspect of touching fabric or smooshing paint. Unfortunately, to reclaim my stuio will require an intense cleaning jag and Stella cannot help me with that!

Have you ever felt like you had so many ideas swirling around in your brain that you couldn't snag even one of them long enough to put them into productive use? That is my problem right now. I am going to grab Stella; perhaps she can slow me down so that I can settle onto one idea and be inspired again! Talk to you later!

(Graphics based on tutorial by Robin.)

The Landing

"Hawks are social birds." my Dad used to say. He would add, "You will see a lot of them perched on power poles along the road." Therefore, whenever we're on a drive back to Iowa, I like to count how many hawks I see as we travel along the interstate. And I wave to them. I think what Dad meant by the hawk being social is that they are not so shy of man. It makes me happy to see a hawk who is one of a social bunch. It pleases me to wave at a creature that doesn't shun me.

In actuality, each one is oblivious to a red Vibe on a busy highway. He's occupied, instead, with watching for the faint movement of a grassblade knowing that hustling underneath it would be a tasty morsel for dinner.

Can birds smell?

David Allen Sibley in The Sibley Guide to Bird Life & Behavior, says that in comparison to vision and hearing, the other senses in a bird are secondary. However, in nocturnal birds, vultures and tubenoses, the sense of smell can be significant. These birds are able to locate carrion by detecting the odor of a chemical that is emitted by rotting meat. (Since I procrastinate at this bit of housekeeping, it's therefore a good thing there isn't a Turkey Vulture near my refrigerator.)

There is something wondrous about a bird. The fact that they can soar in places that we can only think about is, I think, part of the wonder. How delightful it is to spot a fallen feather, claim it as your own and then poke it into your cap! A bird's plumage is so luxurious and gorgeous that it makes it hard to believe that underneath that lofty bit of color is a scrawny creature with a pokey neck.

A friend of mine raises Amazon parrots and for awhile also raised cockatiels. I have a prized cinnamon cockatiel hand-raised and given to me from Tami. I named her Acorn and she and I are buddies. I collect Acorn's fallen feathers and have been known to give them as special gifts or use them in some of my art projects.

I went to a quilting class one time where the quilt artist was doing a series of quilts on the topic of feathers. She was not just quilting ordinary feather shapes, however. This women studied feathers by magnifying them many many times and then made dazzling designs from the hidden-to-the-natural-eye shapes and colors. She showed slides of the colors and textures that were underlying the surface. They were sensational.

Since that time, I have been fascinated by thinking about those hidden things that are so easily passed over in the superficial glance or in the haste of the moment. I find that if I remain enchanted by small treasures, then all of life holds wonderment. But if I lose sight of the intrigue of finding the veiled treasure, then I find myself becoming self-absorbed and depressed. I would much rather spend my time waving at hawks and thinking about their aloof but friendly beauty than being annoyed about my ingrown toenail. I'm thankful that God created such variety to enchant and draw us out of ourselves.

"Is it by your understanding that the hawk soars, Stretching his wings toward the south? Is it at your command that the eagle mounts up And makes his nest on high? On the cliff he dwells and lodges, Upon the rocky crag, an inaccessible place. From there he spies out food; His eyes see it from afar." Job 29:26-29

(Graphic based on tutorial by DaBratz membership group.)

Friends Share!

Last night Tami and I went through letters that we had written to each other 20 years ago. Those were tumultuous years for us both. Twenty years ago those letters encouraged us as we held hands through the mail and we were amazed at how timeless those words were. The lessons we learned and applied in those days are bringing forth fruit even today!

I found a newer "letter" that I had written to Tami, but this one was sent via email. It contains the same intense sharing for which we are noted: April 15, 2003
Tami,
I sat outside this afternoon, in this beautiful weather, scribbling some notes. Even though Diann had been here for 4 days and left yesterday, I still feel the need for "intellectual talk". Therefore, I am going to share with you my journal, in doing so, I will be sharing my heart - and this is what I love to do. I hope it makes some sense to another mind.
...
I'm writing at my make-shift desk: a board stretched across the ample arms of an adirondack chair. On it are my notebook, beverage, highlighter and a couple of books - Friends For The Journey by L'Engle and Shaw; and Only Fifty Years Ago by Gladys Hasty Carroll. A sheaf of papers: enlarged copies of papercuts from Wana Derge's book, are peering at me from beneath the books. These books are not only good reading, but are also useful for holding the papers in place as a breeze eddies around me. The cat is laying stretched out at my feet. And Acorn, the bird, is chirping in her cage. I positioned her cage half in and half out of the sun so she also could enjoy this incredible weather. The stimulus of a Phil Keaggy CD "Still Life" floats through the open office window and my chair comfortably sits on the patio - out of the sun but not out of the freshness, security and peace of this place. What an incredible blessing and experience this is! I'm enjoying the beauty of this house we so love, and the solitude of our backyard. Almost everything that I so enjoy is merely a few paces away - or it's on my desk now! How can God be so good to me!

Today I even made the final IRS loan payment from a loan taken out 3 years ago. On this day of April 15 we sent in the 2002 tax forms and will be getting some money back, and we completed paying off the 1999 tax bill! It is delicious to have such rich contentment at this moment. I don't want to lose it or diminish it.

I sense a rich joy soaking down to my very toes. Oh, to be able to express in some form, or in a variety of creative forms, the majesty of God's artistry! His Art lies within and without every life form. We behold it with our eyes, but we also embrace it with our heats, minds and senses. His Artistry seeks a level deep inside each individual. Art is more than a beautiful painting, a gracefully executed dance, a perfectly formed sculpture, or a moving group of well-selected words or images. Art, from the hand of God, is all of those things together and much much more. All these forms swirl simultaneously in some great inner dance within all that lives. It is much like C.S. Lewis writes about when he tries to convey the Trinity.

However, God's skillful Artistry has incapacitated me. I'm unable to express the joy of His presence in such a multi-dimensional way. I sense it, but it turns at a 90 degree angle within me and blocks further flow. I don't allow it's conception to fully play out within my heart. I want to stop it - like stop motion camera work - so that I can capture a moment. It is too much for me to grasp at one sitting, or in one moment. It is because I am slow and heavy. Yet, to stop the unfolding of His Artistic drama so that I can savor it, can also be a means to suspend the power of it. The sorrowful truth is that there is a time to savor the facets of His Workings. There is also a time to allow the drama to unfold it's holistic purpose so that I can gain an understanding of His Mission statement through it.

For example, I am decidedly refusing to leave this habitation of peace. A misguided desire for muchness, or my internal "Attention Deficit" disorder, would move me away from here to look for a "better" place in which to view God's Art. Or it would attempt to drive me to look for a better means to express to Him what He's stirring within me. NO, I am seated here to stay for a duration. I will allow this duration to work its way through me. I will not try to sketch (badly), or sew (fitfully), or knit (disjointedly), and be confused about what it is I'm to do at the moment (creatively). I'm just a-sittin! And I'm just a-stayin'! I am not going to harbor guilt feelings about work that awaits me, or "art" that is not conceived and possibly never will be.

For this is His moment in me. Whatever I try to do myself is flat and lifeless. I am awaiting the waking of His Artistic Life within me. This can only come as I allow Him to freely work deeply deep down in the cold currents and dark seas of my soul and to bring out the Life of His Spirit in me. The awakening and refreshing of His life in these dark fountains release His artistic forms through this stilted and clumsy frame.

True Art takes time. A lot of time. It is tedious. How much more willing I am to look at art second-hand, to jealously view the results of someone else's creativity rather than persevere through the messy tedium of working, reworking, and working yet again through the germ of my own idea. Honing an idea, developing a concept, is like playing with modeling clay. It is never set, and develops best through the warmth of my own hands. It is the exhausting workingness of it all that can be off-setting.

God's process is unfolded through the seasons which come and go, then take their curtain call so that the next season can come center stage. Yet, He upholds the promise of the seasonal cycle and finds that it is good. I cannot have summer for 3 seasons in a row, as much as I would prefer it to be that way. Still, I find anticipation in knowing that summer will again appear after 3 seasons have passed. This artistic wonder births a delight and security. This delight and security incubates a sense of well-being. And that is amazing! We don't have to have it all in this moment.

Society around us would tell us that "ARTISTES" stir things up and reveal things that are not always comfortable, as if artists have morphed into prophetic gods to whom we should give our total attention. And yet, God's Artistry does bring a sense of well-being. I will allow that the beauty of a storm does not always engender a sense of well-being: power and awe, yes, but well-being? Not really. Still, this is also a part of God's Art work. The well-being underlying a storm rests within the heart of the believer who knows in Whom he believes, and his foundation is settled upon the Person and Character of his God, and not upon the appearance at the moment. All that I do needs to be also founded upon the Rock Who is my total Source, and through Whose security and truth my work develops.

God created the world in 6 days. But He worked from a plan and each day built upon the preceeding day. Anything that I do is to spring from a plan. A plan gives framework from which a final result is ensured. If there is no framework, there may not be a final result because the building will collapse before the end can come. A plan can motivate one through the tedium of the precess in order to complete what is begun in the excitement of the idea.

God's Artistry springs from a life that is 100% alive. Is it possible, Father, for me to be 100% alive? I know this is true: that true Artistry springs from a life that is 100% alive. I don' t know how to become that. In fact, I cannot become that on my own. It is only as You work it in me, through the modeling clay process that an idea is birthed. However, as I sit here, at my writing desk in this wonderful moment of time which You have so graciously given me, I await the unfurling of Your life. And I seek the unfolding of Your Words which give Light and Life.
Love,
Vicky