Thursday, November 19, 2020

Combating Covid - Create a vision board

 

What is a Vision Board?

A vision board is a visualization tool which refers to a board of any sort used to build a collage of words and pictures that represent your goals and dreams.  https://www.jackcanfield.com/blog/how-to-create-an-empowering-vision-book/ 

My dearest friend and I have been working on creating vision boards, as part of our war on quarantine fatigue.  Making a trip to the grocery store to buy magazines, asking neighbors for some, dreaming and pondering about just what we wanted to include... all were amazingly effective in lifting our spirits and giving us some things to get excited about again.   I must admit, I'm not quite optimistic enough to include travel on mine yet, but one certainly could.

Mine includes finding a specific action to help save the planet, craft projects I want to create, remodeling and refining my studio into a welcoming haven, creating a reading and prayer oasis in the corner of my bedroom, plans for renovating the front and back yards next spring, getting healthy, etc.  Those are just mine.... for now....  I can always add layers to it.

We put them on white poster board.  But of course, I couldn't just leave mine plain.  For the background, I sprayed red wine from a spray bottle over leaves to make a soft, subtle purply-gray design.  Because I could.

If you are skirting mild depression because you don't have anything to look forward to during these very strange times, I encourage you to try making your own vision board.  There are lots of articles on the internet to help with ideas.  It's amazing how much better I feel. (And just to explain, the word Peacock on my board is for the next art basket that has been begging to be woven for the last two years...I really need to get it done!)




Friday, November 6, 2020

First Things First - Learning to Zoom

 To survive during Covid19, the first thing that so very many of us needed to learn was how to Zoom. Determining if I need an account, setting up meetings, sending our invitations, what level of security do I really need, how long can I actually function effectively at one time, how much recovery time do I need between meetings, and one of my biggies:  when to say no to 'just' another meeting.

And then of course there is a whole new level of meeting etiquette to master.  It simply doesn't work to try and talk over someone or interrupt.  Please oh please mute yourself if you are in a larger group, or you have some noise, no matter how small, in your background.  It's amazing what these microphones pick up, isn't it??  The buttons are there for a reason to stop your video if you (or your child, cat, dog, husband) will be distracting.

Sharing screens, using breakout rooms, utilizing chat rooms, learning to raise your hand may be easier to use for some. The older we get, the more challenging some of these things are.  Hey, we remember having to use rotary phones and actually write and mail a letter.


It's a whole new world of communicating, but for some of us that truly need to stay at home, it's essential for our sanity.  Without Zoom (or WhatsApp or Facetime) I'd be totally cut off from the world. No, it's not the same as going out for tea with friends, but we do try to Zoom an occasional tea party together, where we dress up a bit, put on some jewelry (maybe even some perfume), and chat.  Craft meetings, organizations, friends, family....yes, I know, some of your are working from home as well.  But I can't really address that latter one - I am retired, after all.   So virtual meetings aren't just for the working folks.  Retired artists need it, too!

Saturday, October 31, 2020

Recipe for Recentering

 Preparation: Gather a move, resettling, and remodeling, a pandemic, political unrest, isolation, financial volatility, limited contact with friends and family.

Mix: A new neighborhood, learning to communicate via  Zoom, wearing masks and social distancing.

Bake (process, evaluate): For seven months.

Result:  A need to reevaluate, recenter, learn how to replenish emotional reserves.

Frosting/garnish: New crafts, mediums, creativity, and ideas.

When someone asks what I've been doing during these unusual times. I simply say: lace.  It's been a wonderful, homey, pleasing and relaxing way to learn and develop as an artist, as well as provide connections with other lace-makers.  While I'm getting back to basket weaving now, and taking on a few other artistic avenues, my lace-making will definitely continue.

My hope is that my posts will inspire you to try something different, find your calming center, or simply entertain.  So for today, right here and right now, I'll share some lace.  I started two Zoom meetings, one for tatting, one for crochet.  Chatting, learning new techniques, challenging each other, inspiring one another....you get the idea.







Sunday, September 1, 2019

In Transition



Sadly sold and left my precious nest on Lopez Island to search for an abode in keeping with the next adventure and stage of my life. Parting is so very difficult, and saying goodbye to so many friends was bittersweet.  My thoughts can still only hover in short bits on the idyllic seven years on the island.  It's still too fresh and painful yet for long reveries.
Living in transition, amidst boxes and piles of furniture, is not very centering, I will say.  I'm trying to use this transition time to reflect on what truly makes up a life.  It's not the "stuff", I realize, as I sorted and tossed while packing up.  And one can live quite handily without all the accoutrements that attach to us as we go along, as is evident as I live out of a suitcase.  It's really the sense of home and belonging, and a place that embraces and encourages the quiet sense of centeredness.  And I look forward to a clear and clean, open and airy new home.  I find that I am not fully breathing right now.
There is nothing wrong with change, it's just sometimes hard.  I haven't lost my friends, I'm just a call, text, or email away. 
Living in the unknown at the moment with nothing certain.  Learning to embrace a future that is unclear.  Ah me, opportunities for growth.




Saturday, July 28, 2018

Squirrel! Bling! Mandala Rocks!

A bit ago I got totally sidelined with painting mandala rocks.  I had never heard of them before.  They are a cross between zentangle, painting, and, well, playing with rocks.  Pictures certainly can say it better than I.  Using ever so simple implements, round on the end, dipped in acrylic paint, you can make amazing color and geometric designs by painting circles. They are so very satisfying, with the only downside of needing to have patience for one layer to dry before applying another.  (The photos are from Pinterest...mine aren't quite this dramatic....yet.)

Image result for mandala rocks   Related image   Image result for mandala rocks

Image result for mandala rocks    Related image  Related image

Saturday, July 21, 2018

My Woodturning Adventure

COURAGE TO TURN

 

Why this attraction to working with wood, and in this case, wood turning? I think it comes from some of my earliest memories of sitting in my dad’s workshop, watching him work. I can picture the shop, up the short, slightly uphill concrete walkway from the house on Wollochet Bay.  It had nuts and bolts and screws in glass jars hanging above the bench, and a fine layer of sawdust was always covering the worktable and more deeply on the floor. He had a small lathe, and as I perched high up on the bench, I was always fascinated to watch the wood chips fly as something unique and round and beautiful emerged, as if by magic, from the starting angular block of wood.  Oh, and the smells of cedar, pine, or whatever type of wood he was working would tickle my nose and settle into my soul.  

 

Before I started on this journey, wood working (turning) conjured up safety, fascination of creativity, the sense of being grounded in age-old tradition, the appeal and pleasant scent of wood, as well as the peace of working with your hands.  With such strong images, I think that I wanted to recreate them somehow.  At least these were my thoughts as I signed up for a week-long class that what would become my Wood Turning Adventure.

 

But from the very first moment in the classroom, seated with my 3 classmates for the class, some rather unexpected feelings reared up.  The first was relief.  The other three students were all women.  I had worried, for several weeks if I’m being honest, that I’d be in a class filled with testosterone laden he-men who would be loud, gruff, and crowd the space with frenetic macho energy. What a delight to discover that we four women had much in common, and none of us had much, if any, experience working with lathes.  Throughout the week we bonded in some lovely, supportive ways. I am still in contact with one of them, as we continue to discover what kindred spirits we are.

 

One of the most surprising emotion for me was, well, fear.  The lathes were unknown beasts that were large, noisy, foreign-looking and sprouting such evil knobs and levers that they appeared poised to attack.  Couple that with their seemingly terrifying turning speeds and it’s no wonder that it felt like I had entered a Hunger Games arena, ill-equipped to do battle.  What in the world had I been thinking?  I can’t do this!!  Ohmy heavens, a whole week of torture awaited me.

 

And the fear didn’t exactly evaporate immediately.  After learning the name of all the parts of the machine, and what they did, the numerous tools and gadgets associated with wood-turning, and the safety lessons essential for my own well-being as well as for those around me (what???  I’m responsible for not killing my classmates, too??), we were introduced to the grinder for sharpening our own tools.  Oh my!  It not only turned at what seemed like horrendously fast speeds as well, then when you finally figured out the correct angle for grinding the particular tool in question (no, they are not all the same), and once you put the tool to the grinder, sparks started flying.  This was definitely not in the same category as sitting comfortably in a chair tatting, where the worst thing that could happen was a knot in your thread that you struggled to remove. 

 

And every moment of every day in class, it was all so PHYSICAL.  First there was the usual vertical challenge that someone 5’2” faces, trying to adapt living in a world where the average person’s height is at least 6” higher.  After several attempts and adjustments, the instructor and I finally figured out a platform for me to stand on, coupled with a foam pad, to raise me to the correct height for working the lathe.  (One excellent side effect of this, however, was that standing on the foam helped me and my back to tolerate standing for 9 hours a day - we were a committed class!)  Let me just say right here, if you watch any youtube videos on the subject, they make wood turning look very, very easy. Huh.  Learning to hold the tools with a strong enough grip to keep them from flying away from the wood, from you, from the room, seemingly with enough speed to travel across the campus and just possibly into the next county, was necessarily coupled with intuiting the finesse of resting the handle against your body, as you learned “The Dance” of pull, twist, and lift (or whatever the specific action might require).  Truly, this is a full-body activity.  Dancing lessons probably should have been a required prerequisite. 

 

One very important aspect of this entire experience needs to be emphasized. I am completely convinced that I would not have achieved the results that I did, nor learned nearly as much, without the amazing support of the gifted instructor * we had for our class. He was patient, kind and calm, an excellent teacher, and he instilled confidence in ourselves as well as the process.  Having the right teacher to accompany us, in anything that is new, scary, intimidating, or complicated, is absolutely the key to success. 

 

So, what started as a touchy-feely attempt to reenact my fond memories from childhood actually became a challenging week of facing my fears, accepting the daily demands of each new project and technique we were trying to grasp (pun intended), and conjuring up - COURAGE. And yes, it deserves to be in capital letters.  Each day as we watched the instructor demonstrate what we’d be working on that day, inside my head, not at all mumbling but in a very loud and clear voice, my instinct for survival was pleading with me to just walk away, that I couldn’t do this, I would kill myself. And every day, well, to be honest, sometimes several times a day, I had to take a deep breath, consciously calm myself both inside and out (tense shoulders and fear of dying do not lend themselves to relaxing into The Dance) and do a bit of self-talk to just proceed one step at a time.

 

Then something profound happened.  As I succeeded in perfecting the techniques of beads and coves and so could create a candlestick, I realized that not only had I survived the first two days of wood turning, I had also made something so very solid (unlike lacy needlework pieces) and of which I was actually quite proud.  But even more than that, I hadn’t quit.  And I didn’t die, nor did I maim anyone around me.  I had faced an almost unnerving fear, and not only lived, but thrived.  Having found my courage doesn’t mean that I wasn’t afraid throughout the process. Oh, I very much was.  But I found that I could acknowledge that fear, and then do it anyway.  So unexpectedly, I understood in a very personal, emotional, as well as on a visceral level, what being courageous means for me.

 

Am I rushing out to buy all the tools and a lathe and set up a wood shop?  Nope.  I’m absolutely delighted that I took the class.  But I learned what I needed to know.  I can turn wood, but it’s not something that I need to either perfect or keep working on.  The greatest gift is that I know that I can deal with my fear, assuming I have the proper support and instruction, calm myself as needed, and not only survive, but succeed.  That alone was worth it.  Plus, I can still Dance, just not necessarily in front of a lathe.  One additional and unexpected gift from this experience I just discovered was my heightened confidence in working with other power tools, such as my handheld cutter and sander.  Previously I used it but with a bit of trepidation.  Just recently I started working with it and realized that I held it differently, I almost instinctively knew to brace my arm against my body for support (part of that Dance) and felt comfortable and sure. I respect the power tools, I just don’t fear them anymore. Personal growth and confidence weren’t listed on the class syllabus, but perhaps they should have been.



Hard to tell, but I am Dancing.



My treasures from the week.


*  Tom Jeanes was our instructor at the John C. Campbell Folk School. He has my sincere thanks for calmly and patiently guiding us through our week-long class. He’s an amazing teacher.

Sunday, April 15, 2018

Becoming a Fibulanomist

"Fibulanomist":  the scholarly name for someone who collects buttons.

Well, first of all, how wonderful to find a 'scholarly' name for anything that I do!  Secondly, in the midst of my year (s) of exploration and discovery, so odd to find a little rabbit hole through which I fell and decided to start a button collection.

There is something so satisfying about collecting, storing (doesn't take much space at all), playing with, sorting, and pondering these small, useful and at times antique little gems.  I'm not going hog wild into buying or obtaining just as many as I can.  I'm just enjoying the feel of them sifting through my fingers, appreciating the mother-of-pearl, bone, or wood as well as the lovely colors available. It's also entertaining to ponder just what the history of one little button might be - who wore the garment, who lovingly sewed it on, how it got lost and but was somehow saved, how they came to be preserved (with numerous others) in Grandma's button jar.  What a surprising way of connecting to the past.

And don't forget functional!  What started all of this was finding a photo of some tatted pieces - wait for it - around a button.  Lovely.

Simple pleasures, for sure!