Thanksgiving a week later...

                                   

 

There is something consoling at times about a long drive, maybe it's the motion, the road disappearing and reappearing in front of you, the sky stretching out above and beside you. I don't know. Thanksgiving took me to a town I had not visited for over twenty years. My head was filled with the colours of fall and memories that seemed like they were only yesterday. Thanksgiving for me this year, and I guess most years is just an excuse to be together with family, whatever assortment can get together. But I am grateful for this throughout the year. 

Because of the warm daytime temperatures, I hadn't even noticed that fall had arrived. The summer had somehow washed away and was replaced by rust, yellow and red - shocking vibrant red! And the next day closer to home, a trip to the escarpment meant more colour! I still haven't painted in months, though I have been drawing. No visual record to share, but it is loosening up some desire to do more. In the meantime, I am soaking in the warmth before all the leaves have been torn from the trees.

It's been a long time

sunflower table

We are in the midst of what I consider the most creative times of year for nature. The earth and the air are filled with plants and animals (including birds) all craving sun and water, growing and reproducing. So, what's happening creatively for me. Well, I have helped a friend create a nest lately and some artwork to "line" it with. And just the other day I started two paintings - not sure if they will reach completion, or get buried under gesso. They were frustration paintings - you know where you are waiting for something else to happen and instead of pacing, you paint. That's how I am feeling these days, waiting for something to happen and no amount of fretting and forcing is going to produce anything genuine. So, I look for distractions - luckily there are lots this time of year.

the pear came back, and the chicken and the sheep...

Sheep at the Royal

The process of showing paintings in a public setting is still pretty new to me. Throughout the years, until recently, there were half-hearted attempts - a juried show here and there, the odd group show, but no concerted effort to "show and sell". But now, it seems to have become part of the creative process. 

The return process is even stranger if you don't really have much feedback on your work, which could include objective comments by others, or sales. What direction do you head in next; do you follow your heart and just do whatever you want, or also seek some constructive criticism through additional sources to inform your work. 

Working in a vacuum has never been effective for me. Creativity can be a solitary process, or it can be collaborative, or stimulated by the world and others around you - or all of these. Joining a collective was one of my first ways to be in the company of others going through a similar development process (everyone at different stages of course). Having a strong and expressive support network of friends with a wide range of interests also triggers some provocative thought and conversations at times - may even present new directions.

"in keeping with the season"

Gifts from Ruth

In an attempt to try and beat this rotten cold, a nap was in order. Before I fell asleep, I'd been thinking of this time of year back through the decades and some of the things my family and friends did to celebrate in those weeks leading up to Christmas day. Some things were consistent, traditions, I guess you would call them, and other things were new, but sometimes became tradition - or not. It reminded me of an NFB film called "Keepers of the Fire", about Aboriginal women, who are the keepers of the cultural heart and soul of their community - their music, language, arts, food, and of course, traditions.

At the Heart of the Hammer cafe our little "community centre", the key keeper of our communal heart and soul, Rebecca, has asked those who have a creative inclination, to make something for our sparkly Christmas tree.

I hadn't given it any thought about what to make for our festive tree until now. A traditonal craft we made as a family when I was a kid were dough decorations. I found a similar recipe and directions online (@planetgreen.com) and pasted it below. You can use cookie cutters or just use your imagination and form whatever you want with the dough, just as you would with plasticine. This and making those fabulous milk carton candles were good fun for all of us and we could be proud of our creations on display throughout the Christmas season.

Dough Christmas tree ornaments

circles and cycles

Helga at the beach

Circle hands, circle hips - bellydancing is all about sensuous circles and serpentine movements. The dance is beautiful and fluid. Circles are at the heart of life, symbols of the infinite cycle of birth, life and death - we all know this stuff.  Like mice, we run our lives in circles - we don't always stick to the baseboards, but we have our routines which lead us in circles, which lead us home. Circles of friends and family surround us with affection and inspiration (mostly? sometimes?). The cycle of the year - seasons, the days, weeks and months. Everything is generally a round ticket, (until we don't come back). What if for a week, we resisted the circle? What would happen to your brain? Would it loosen things up, increase creativity, or would you just go crazy? And I am not sure how to do this? Linear thought - goes from A to B to C and where does it go from there - does it come back to A? Intersecting lines, parallel lines all stretching into infinity, but wait isn't the symbol for infinity a figure 8 on its side? Are we all stuck in a giant bubble?

All Souls' Day

Annie with a hat

As humans, we come from multiple ancestral origins contributing to the genetic cocktail that helps shape our characteristics, likes, dislikes, interests, etc. In our recent history, my family knows of a particularly strong Scottish influence named Sarah. Sarah was my great-grandmother and when her husband abandoned the family in the early 1900's, she raised five boys on her own, financially supporting her brood by doing domestic work - cleaning houses, doing laundry and mending. From what my grandfather said about his mother, Sarah was frugal, stubborn and determined. Well I guess she had to be. Poor woman, like many other families at the time, after all that work raising those sons, two of them died overseas in the First World War.

Today being "All Souls' Day",  I am thinking of Sarah and others who have gone before me and feeling lucky I know a bit about these people. I try to forgive myself when I am not the person (yet) that I want to be. The biggest thing to remember is unlike my paintings which can be completed, I will ALWAYS be a work in progress, or just "a piece of work" some days.

ignoring squirrels

* "Annie in the grass" 3' x 4'

My dog will often start barking the moment she steps out of the door. And if the barking continues she has to come in. Yet there are times she is quiet for ages - at one with nature, live and let live, as the squirrels go strolling by. She just doesn't seem to make the connection. In nine years she always looks surprised when I call her back into the house for barking. Is this stupid or stubborn? Anyway, she's a dog. And I on the other hand do stupid things too. I am not about to post a litany of stuff here, just to say the stupidest things I have done throughout my life are when I have not listened to my "gut". And there may be a whole bunch of sane rationale and distractions at the time, but if deep down it makes me squirm, even a little, then it's stupid. Now actually knowing this and paying attention ALL the time is tricky; life seems to be a never-ending conveyor belt of choices.