Would I lie to you....

From red to blue.
Tho something that I notice is that the 'grumpy red' of my previous post had a stillness to it that the 'blue calm' does not.
So it would appear - I lie!



But, I was feeling calm and very happy when I did this in the early morning, 30 minute , pre work, arty slots.



There may be an element of crowing in this post.....please forgive it.
It is just me being cheer leader to myself lest I forget what I can achieve in a week alongside using " the skills that pay the bills".
Oh, I should add, when I also forgo cooking, cleaning, TV watching ( no pain there in football season), and laying in bed till the very last minute.


These journal pages were a response to a comment about the "blue calm" being reminiscent of willow patterned china. And also a vehicle for me to use the hexagonal lid to a cheese-spread pot that was languishing, squeaky clean, on the draining board.


Et voila! Willow patterned patchwork to hold the patchwork of my thoughts.


The week began with the love notes postcard project. Never having participated in any form of art swap I was a little.....anxious.
So I stuck with what I know and collaged a card.


The words were prompted by ' begin each day.....'
I can only hope that the recipient will have as much pleasure in getting it as I did in making it. Another occasion when my inner 5 year old let rip.


I had to take this photo.
My dog and I communicate telepathically and he clearly was saying 'ere this is me best side, go on, take me photo'
He might also have said ' tummy in...*!!*s out' but a plane went over and I lost the signal for a bit.
Deranged!? Moi?
Of course.


The dusty muppet again. Woken from his nap by me hanging the two dresses that I have been hemming on the wall to photograph.
His patience knows no bounds.

Melancholy baby.

I have made discoveries.
Two to be exact.
It transpires that I am a melancholy bird.
I knew that.
Mostly I resist it, because from melancholy to morose is hardly a leap, it is just an itty bitty step. One that I take all too often, all too easily.
F.Y.I an easy typo to make leads you to Morse.......the inspector.....who was morose.
I made that particular typo in a forum this week where the link between depression and art making was discussed.

Munch. May not have been a happy chappy, guessing this was on a good day.

Now, I have me ups and I have me downs.
 I have known heartache as have we all.
And there is an artistic fuel to be found in the sadnesses we experience to be sure.
But, just how far do you take it?
Keep it real.
Don't be fake.
Advice worth heeding. Clearly advice many have taken.
And I commend all those who are out of any closet or prison that they were once in but I said in one of my very first posts that I believe what the world needs is more light not more darkness. Sharing the darkness can be very healthy, can be very good I can't deny that but I don't want to do it.

Van Gogh, he had his ups and downs.

 There is something febrile in his painting.

 Standing before one, I cried. I will love him forever simply because he could do that.

So in a way this is a preemptive apology for all those times that my work is tinged by sadness, or darkness.
Bless you Frances for the reassurance that you find my blog humorous....although you didn't sound too sure that you were supposed to!
I am greatly relieved that you do.

My second discovery was more the confirmation that less is often more.
And then I completely threw that lesson out of the window and made myself an enchanted necklace inspired by the weeks activities on the days of enchantment course.



Also course led was the creation of an enchanted space the focus of which was this lovely piece of art by Holly Sierra on Etsy



And looking further at symbols....my personal ones; I rediscovered the ironing board. Symbolically.



Long story, probably boring story, short ; it reminds me to keep personal boundaries and to not let my energy seep away where I do not wish seepage to occur.



Just to contradict my sunshiny little self I am going to admit that I got angry this week and.....and.......I did a whole episode of grumpy.
But the thing I learned from doing some journal pages about the who and the why and the where and unfair of it all is that I like to make pretty. Even with the ugly.



Not too sure if that is healthy. I have a psychoanalyst friend who could probably get much mileage out of that. But, I have my fingers in my ears...la,la,la,la,la.



This pinky splodged affair is me letting my inner 5 year old out to play with paints. Intuitive drawing was the remit. Face splittingly smiley fun was the result.
I hope your face splits with a smile, that grumpy stays underground with the other dwarves and and that your inner 5 year old gets out to play with whatever floats your boat. Xxxxx

A week in images

It started with hedge trimming or what is more commonly known as a haircut; much overdue.
That was last Friday.

Personal symbols were  the subject of this weeks coursework from Jani Franck which started on Sunday.



How cute is this rook bead? Don't you love the call of rooks from their untidy nests high up in the trees. Such a harsh but evocative sound.



Summer visited today and urged me outside to see what was happening in the yard.
Mother nature will not be denied will she. And yet whenever I've tried to replicate this kind of planting she has laughed in my face and refused to play ball.



The dogs were also keen to be out warming in the sun. A tad too much warming for Hairy Herbert Senior who took shelter in the greenery.


Hairy Herbert the younger has been re named ' the dusty muppet'.
Dusty from rolling on the gravelled drive and muppet for lying full stretch and baking like a biscuit. They say, don't they, that it is mad dogs and Englishmen that lie out in the midday sun.

And inspired by the project 100 Acts of Sewing, using the pattern I bought from the Etsy shop of the same name I made a dress.
Summer dress.
 Just in case this weather lasts.

Here's hoping.

My word for the year is:- IMPLEMENT
Sometimes words are like neatly wrapped parcels.
This is one such word for me.




I wrote a list of the things that I have learned in my dog chewed notebook. These are the things I choose to implement.




And this is where they are taking me.
























This last collage is inspired by a photograph I came across on Pinterest of Peter Beard with his young daughter sat on his shoulders........



wearing wellies, fairy wand, tutu and tiara. Very much my style I thought.
I shall of course be implementing a few wardrobe changes!!

Enchanted.

Days 2,3,4 and 5 of the 5 days of enchantment have come and gone. Once again I went off on a tangent. And my only feeling of guilt is that I committed to blog-along-a-Jani for the duration and failed.
But in my defence this is how it goes for me. This is the value of her courses....for me; that they shift my perspective, just a little bit, and set me off renewed and refreshed. I learn what I need to learn.
So's O.K.
All good

baby blanket

It was the barefoot practice that did it.
The moment with my feet on a patio slab where my perspective shifted a la earthquake effect.
I realised that there are practices that I do not practice- ever or very rarely even though I know they bring  huge benefits. It seems I cannot listen and act on that beneficent voice inside by head but need someone else to voice it for me. How incredibly daft.

sardine tins painted using the 30 minute timer practice

One valuable practice: reading. Takes time.
And this week I made time.
Books and bloggy stuff and somewhere in amongst this weeks reading material I came across the idea, not for the first time, of extreme self care.
It is an idea that hangs in the interwebyworld like pollen in the air, as pervasive, equally irritating but more visible.
As a person who is not good at moderate self care this idea does not sit well with me.
I get holes in my socks because I  forget to cut my toe nails.
Squirm. Too much information?? I know.


But I wondered what it would be like to  take care of self as one would take care of a beloved.



As part of my 'information in' practice I listened to a podcast by someone new to me Kristoffer Hughes who follows a druids path. He spoke of living life with an understanding of the death to come. He spoke about a new health mandate in the U.S. to medicate for grief that persists beyond 14 days!! And he urges, far more rationally,to scream, to howl at the loss of a loved one.
There is beauty, there is magic in life and in death... he says.
I believe it.
But the pain of loss is real.
As the sentient beings that we are it is a pain to be experienced not medicated away.
 This I also believe.
In fact I know.



So howl at the  moon, the stars, at anything for as long as you must but, hold someones hand. Yes: let's hold hands.



Sorry, sorry. I wandered off. Kristoffer's message moved beyond the painful bit, and this is the bit I walked away with; he urged us to live life bright. To shine like a diamond because this life matters. What we do matters.The  colour, the joy, the music, the touch that we each uniquely bring, matters.



So coming back around to the beginning, tying it all up with a bow:-
The practice of extreme self care that I practiced today was to joyfully play in my studio with colours that make my heart sing, to connect with the couple who want a funky baby blanket for their 10th grandchild and to arrange another craft date with my monster-making friend and to give a chandelier crystal to a lady who was searching, and not finding, a small light refracting crystal to hang in her window.
Today was, I  feel, a bright shiny day.
Oh yes, and my socks are safe
I wish bright, shiny days to you all and when you need a hand to hold I hope you find one warm and strong. xxx