After a cloudy start.....

As you know my week started under cloud and threat of rain.








My wise psychotherapist friend pointed out that the insights that came through these recent events and emotions would inevitably fade. And perhaps that was just as it should be. Return to all that was normal was the order of the day.
And for once, surprisingly, I disagreed with her.

One of the insights that I had was that in the main I liked my life.
All the component parts. Including to my amazement " the skills that pay the bills"!!
Call me contrary.
I can take it.
I would prefer to re-jig the balance a bit.........quite a bit.
And indeed I think I should.
But in the main. Things are dandy.







Especially dandy when I get uninterrupted time in the studio.
Great tunes on the iPod and no cloud on the horizon to dampen my joy or impede my imaginings and playful experimenting.









Making Christmas frippery.















And colourful trinkets.























On Saturday a rather lovely lady bought this yo-yo bouquet to wear in her hair.....minus the vase of course. Tho she was the sort who could have carried the vase off with great style! She ignited my curiosity because she had a calm spirit carried in an exuberant exterior.
Accompanied by her friend we three had a long chat.








A chat that revived the idea of workshops.
Or more accurately, creative gatherings.
Small gatherings. An extension of what I do with my monster making friend and the young chap.
Just to hold a space where a small group can come together and share in,and exchange some, creative energy. Working on their own projects with help if they need it. Pooling resources and ideas.
The impact of the last fortnight leads me to consider all the reasons why this is a good idea and blinkered to all the usual misgivings and doubts that usually surface and prevent progress.

So, any local readers who might be interested please put your hands up.

Lumps and bumps

This post went out earlier in the month but if felt all wrong for it to be hanging in the ether to be seen and read by passersby when none of my family had a clue what was going on. And actually I wanted it to stay that way until I had an answer. 

It was just a cathartic reaction committed in panic so I deleted the post then kept it as a draft copy and ran it like a diary.

It explains a little of what has preoccupied me over the last two weeks and why it  may have appeared that I had fallen off the edge of the planet.

 Let me start by saying that today, the 18th of November, all is well.



5th November 

Something is not right with leftie.

We are talking boobs here.

So I took her along to the docs.

Very much hoping doc would dismiss me as time wasting neurotic old bat.



Disappointed then to find that she agreed with me and is sending me off to the breast clinic.

She was very kind, very reassuring, and gave me the impression that she was not overly worried.



But to the clinic I will go within 2 weeks.

I write this in an attempt to lessen my anxiety.

And as importantly to try and mine this experience for all it contains.

Because it will pass.



Truth to tell I am a little scared.

I feel as though I may have just buckled myself into a roller-coaster ride when I had actually gone to the theme park with candy floss in mind.

On the other hand luck might be with me and after a mammogram I will be ejected from said ride.



Here's hoping.

7th November

I am having to stay my hand from googling myself into full on hysteria.

And I am trying to breathe and to examine what this current situation is telling me about my life as I live it.

I have been in places like this before where darkness threatens or actually descends but in the middle of it, if you look, there is much love and light.

14th November. Day 11 in the waiting game.

I won't lie I am scared witless at times.



I have googled every known cause of breast lump and conclude that my age and post menopausal status shift the balance less in my favour.

Compleltely dismissing the facts that I  have no family history, am generally healthy, not on HRT, breast fed my babies which all count as positive factors.



I have prodded and palpated lefty and convinced myself that things are less lumpy.

And more lumpy.

Lumpy in a different place.

More uncomfortable.

Less uncomfortable.



Why do we torture ourselves at times like these!?



Other times I can be quite sanguine about it.

After all, whatever it is.....it already is….. or isn't…...and no amount of worrying will change that but will only rob me of peace and pleasure.

And there is plenty of peace and pleasure to be had.



What sweet joy and contentment there is to be found in the very simple pleasures of being warm and cosy, eating good wholesome food, reading, making frippery and walking the dogs.



Weavers Down,where I walk most often, has been my sanctuary for a long time now.

I always take a long while just gazing and absorbing the views. But now there is a piquancy to those sights.

I am aware of the exquisite blending of life's events and made breathless by the sheer beauty and delight in being here in this imperfect messy life.

I want to hold those images and the feeling of space and tranquility and to hold tightly the feeling that things are just exactly as they should be.

Despite suggestions to the contrary there is order in the universe.



This will be my security blanket when I go for my appointment on the 18th.

I've done it before. Many times. Retreated in my mind to my 'happy place', shielding my heart from fear.

18th November



My appointment is for 2.03!!



The military precision of the timing is intimidating.



As was the letter I received from the hospital….." you are welcome to bring someone with you but the waiting room gets very busy"

Encouraging?

I am not encouraged.



In this state of mind where I am calm but in a surreal bubble I am apt to find solace in housework!!!

And there is an inordinate amount that I can occupy myself with this morning.



Or on the other hand I could go to my favourite craft superstore and lose myself in all the possibilities that are on offer there…..hmmm.

Choices!?



No doubt at 2.03 I shall have my heart in my mouth and butterflies the size of eagles in my stomach.

And now….



I leave you to guess whether the housework or Hobbycraft won out.





The waiting room was indeed busy.

Busy and efficient.

And lot of waiting went on in that waiting room.



Having had both lefty and righty brusquely manhandled 3 times today and squished beyond the point where I thought it was possible to squish I was elated to find that all is well.



I left, clutching my information about evening primrose oil and instructions to cut back on chocolate, caffeine and wine!!!!!, feeling, what must be akin to, survivors guilt.

I felt sad leaving the lady to my right, with whom I had shared two torturous hours, still waiting to see the Dr and planning to get the bus to Asda once she had done so.

I felt sad for the lady to my left who  having had a biopsy  had a further 7 days to wait for any conclusive answer. She looked miserable. Understandably so.

I felt so lucky as  I wished them well, turned my back and walked off into the sunset…..well the car park actually to text and phone and say that



ALL IS WELL.

Pistachio shells as mulch.

It grieves me to throw things away.
To the point where it is almost pathological.
I need to find a creative use for the unloved, worn out and discarded items that come my way.
As yet, using pistachio shells to mulch my pots is as creative as I can be with them.
Thoroughly washed because I am guessing that winter jasmine is not a great lover of salt.
But anyone with creative suggestions..........I would love to hear from you.

As you can see I need to eat a few more which is no hardship.
Nothing like a glass of vino el collapso with pistachios after a hard day at the orifice.
Today was not a hard day.
Today was a playful day.
Colour, fabric, buttons.
Autumnal shades.
Frippery making to my hearts content.

I believe.....

A long time ago my brother gave me a tape recording of ' I believe' by Sounds of Blackness.
It is the most uplifting song I know.

 'nothing is impossible if you believe'.

I am quite sure that when he gave it to me he didn't know how many times I would listen to it through the course of my life and how rousing, affirming and motivational I would find it.

My brother loved to dance and when I listen to this track I usually shake my booty and he is there with me.
 Across time and space and that ridiculous divide between life and death we dance.

I believe.
Specifically I believe in my dream.

That negative inner voice, responsible for so much misery, is being drowned out with the song.
 And I am dancing my way through doubt.
It might not be pretty but it feels good.

tree trinkets

I had a wonderful day in the shop yesterday and sold a lot of work.
So........I believe.

Is honesty the best policy......only time will tell.

It's been a while.

I haven't known quite what to say.

Truth to tell I have not been my brightest bestest self.
And I don't want to add my woes.....pathetic, self indulgences that they largely are......to the wider world.

I had a planned three week break from 'the skills that pay the bills' which was mostly spent in the studio being creative.

the sartorial elegance of the self-employed

But, the nature of those bills is that they keep on coming and inevitably......as I always intended in fact........I had to return to work.

I did so cheerfully.
Because the best way to do anything is cheerfully.
I did so with appropriate gratitude; I work with lovely people and get paid very well.
But I went back with my heart and mind elsewhere and by day three I was utterly depleted.

By day four I was ready to face square on the idea that I need to do something else.

preferably something like this

This thinking is just a negative loop on repeat.
But every time I talk myself out of wanting the change I am either fooling myself or compromising massively.......not healthy.

The trouble is that I always reduce this thinking to
'what right do I have, in my western world of comfort, to expect bells and whistles on top when half the world is in poverty and hunger or suffering the onslaughts of megalomaniacs with guns and murderous ideologies.
How does my making little bits of frippery and beauty make a difference.
How can it count.'

saving junk cutlery from landfill does probably count for something…..small something

But, while walking the dogs......my best time for inspiration to strike..... I thought this
'doing what you do for a living with half a heart is probably more selfish and callow than doing something which makes you feel fulfilled and for which you are ideally suited'!?

I could shout down that particularly pervasive, new agey ( or is it old agey now?) manifest-what-you-want idea in a heartbeat.
And I did.

Later seeking clarity and inspiration from a different source I reread some journal entries from my time in the Gower this summer.
Then, I was pursuing idleness as part of an on-line course and contemplating what in life needed squeezing 'till all the juice is released"!









I wrote:

Art/making
Is like breath. It is where I both lose and find myself. Time passes and has no meaning. Art/making involves the whole of me, the real me, it hurts me, it heals me and reveals me. I love it.
I live it.
I want it.
I will not be deprived of it by anything or anyone anytime or anywhere.

Simplicity and solitude.
I have loved the quiet, the space indoors and out and the absence of 'stuff'. This week has been a week of few material possessions and even fewer material acquisitions- particularly paid for acquisitions....thinking shells, seagull skulls and artful driftwood.









There has been a beautiful balance between creativity, time to ponder and just be........and the necessary chores.
Food.......buying, prepping and clearing up after.....being the main chore which becomes a creative pleasure when it is done at leisure and with focus.
Also chasing dog hair around with a vacuum cleaner and chasing dogs around on a beach, so much more satisfying when done as required and not as items to be ticked off a long tyrannical 'to do' list in a time deprived schedule.

my hermit's cave

So, I am going to share the dream that I excavated, rounded off and understood back then.
Because my dream will not lay down and die.
And believe me I have done my level best to murder it.
Murder by denial and neglect.
By sharing it I with you I make myself more accountable.
Here goes.
I want to live like the introvert hermit type person that I am.......most of the time
and engage socially from a place of energetic loving rather than as the wrung out dish rag who usually shows up!
I want a better rhythm to my days where the everyday chores can be imbued with love and care........more often
where all aspects of living can be approached as part of a meditative practice........as much as possible.
I want to work from home, in my studio, making , designing, teaching.......most of the time.
I want to engage with people from a place of soul, heart to heart........always.

And I want to spend time with my dogs.....mainly this one. I know favouritism is bad but he favourited me first.
He has given me his heart.....troubled hurt little heart that it is.
All he wants is to be by my side
and a squeaky toy.
Not much to ask after the crappiest of crappy starts.




As dreams go it isn't that big when written down in black and white.
But it often seems unreachable.

To conclude....cos, don't know about you but I can feel a yawn coming on.

I would like to thank each and everyone of you who supports me in my dream.
To all those who contribute words of encouragement and constructive criticism/ helpful advice......big thanks.
To all of you who have bought my work and taken me closer to where I want to be......a huge thank you.
To all of you who read my blog .....big thanks because even in your silence your presence helps the dream gain momentum and when you do comment it creates a tidal surge of encouragement.

textile trinkets

How the *!!* I am going to make this dream come true is uncertain.
Planning not my strong suit.
For now the aim is just to keep on keeping on.
Make lots.
Share lots.
And take time to gaze at the moon.