Thank you notes are a must in my upbringing. Social ettiquette demands that if you aren't present to receive a present, you must extend a mention of your gratitude in a simple note or call. I mostly like to draw pictures, but neglected to document them for you this year. My daughter is however, following my lead. Here is a painting she completed, thanking her cousins for a new coloring book and watercolor set. I think it will be appreciated.
How do you express your gratitude?
Stars are what I use to reward myself for sticking to my plan. If I run out of them, I use other stickers, or just draw stars in the place I want to note, but when I mentioned rewarding myself for taking a rest, that was a novel twist to Maeg Yosef. She invited me to elaborate and I am visiting her blog today as a guest writer, on that topic. Please follow me over to her site, Edison Rex, to read my thoughts about planning the work, working the plan and rewarding rest like a superstar.
Sometimes we all need a little time on the coffee porch where we can spy on the world, but not be easily seen. These are the curtains I made to dress up my daughter's emerging room of her own. She's done a few things to personalize it too.
I just last week jumped into a mini blog world of creative mamas, who write a small musing on a given theme and then share once a month. Check it out here: on Edison Rex, crafted by the fabulous and astounding Maeg Yosef, artist mama extraordinaire.
The great thing is that I get challenged to be introspective and then to share my thoughts. The other great thing is to hear what other artist mamas think on the same thought. And the third great thing is that it invites visitors!
I’ve reached a point in my grown-up-ness, which I think might be related to the magical number 40, in which I’ve really accepted who and where I am. I’ve accepted that I’m doing the best I can with what I have, and that that’s enough. I got the warning email last night, from Maeg, that our creative mama post would go live this am, which I thought was a nice courtesy. This morning, I’m realizing that means she’s inviting her new friends into my living room of blog space, and I didn’t clean it last night! It’s just it’s own musty stale self of my thoughts from a few weeks ago.
Well- I’m ok with that- it’s honest and true. I have been busy making things, and will now give you a little taste of my current works in progress.
Known as English Paper Piecing or Mosaic Patchwork, this is a time consuming hand work project that brings me great joy.
Another intricate project, machine paper-pieced trees, ready for their binding, sleeve and label.
The sticky note is the to do list on this one: sleeve and label is all that's left! I love this color study and am eager to do more. It's hard to choose where to direct my time!
Thanks for visiting- enjoy your stay and come again soon. Having company coming is delightful, and means I might even have incentive to get a bit more finished product completed for sharing!
This summer I was finally inspired “enough” and I applied to a big time favorite local juried craft show.
(It’s called TWIST and is awesome!)
I held high hopes that my work would fill a vacant niche, would fly off the shelves like hotcakes and would be "just the thing" each shopper was looking for.
I started making more things. I went beyond my usual bed quilts, wall quilts, small wall quilts, shoulder bags and handmade bias cut shoelaces that match the handmade, flannel, gender-neutral infant booties that would never be worn. I stepped it up and made bibs, “Taggies”, Christmas stockings and wristlet purses. I sold out from under myself, my first four wristlet purses- to a collection of Tai Chi practitioners in Vancouver.
The accepted vendor announcements were to be made on August 15th. I was eager, I was crossing my fingers, I was hoping. I was hoping that I would be recognized for my efforts, that I’d be given a chance to be fairly reimbursed for my vision and my hard work, and for my creativity. I was gently quieted in my production fervor, by being waitlisted for the craft fair.
The next announcements were due out on August 31st. A cruel distance of time and energy from the assembly line I’d designed for myself, but the distractions of summer abounded and I spent some time carpooling children to a far away camp and processing pears.
Finally the end of the month arrived. The school supplies had been purchased, the lawn had been mowed extra short in case I needed to ramp up again. The creeping realization that I’m not terribly happy making lots of the same thing visited again. The joy of selecting combos of beautiful fabrics for new pieces had already been exhausted and was physically filed in the vertical bins under my cutting table. What remained was the dirty work of making zippers zip properly. I was still eager, I was still crossing my fingers, I was still hoping, but what I was crossing and hoping for had changed.
I received the stock email saying “Thanks BUT, blah blah, show size, blah blah, diversity, blah blah, balance…” and I went upstairs and told my husband: “TWIST set me free.”
He replied, “Awww…” in his own quiet way of expressing both sympathy and delight at the same time.
And I said, “Yeah, I’m disappointed, but I’m also relieved.”
Maybe they knew I’m not really a full time craft artist who wants to sell things professionally for a long time, that I’m still a baby artist who has accumulated a lot of really great assorted, seemingly random pieces that I want to unload onto the world and that it wasn’t cohesive enough of a vision to fit on a table in their little space of 60 vendors. They’re pretty smart. I’m guessing they did know all that. I think they also would have liked to give me a space, but it didn’t fit the balance of diversity…
I get it. I didn’t make the cut. It was my first time and I know what it would take for me to try again. I didn’t take the rejection (very) personally and I’ve already moved on.
I got a job working for that circus guru I mentioned in the last post.
"What do you do?" is a question that plagues me. Last week when I answered "cooking and cleaning" as my honest response, I was cheered by the new book group circle and validated by the recognition that my work is still undervalued and mundane.
(I sound like a housewife, I think I'm a housewife!- thank you for the lyrics, Michelle Shocked).
Today, I answered the same question with, "I'm an artist." I was cheered by the local circus guru and validated by the assumption that I would have a website and that my efforts to share my visions with the world are valued and respected.
Instead of struggling for ten more years to re-classify myself, I'm putting my thoughts into words, and my words into action.
I am an artist.
Life is cherries.
Cherries just are.
You can choose to think thoughts of suffering, using statements ironically, by listing your challenges followed by the sarcasm of "Life is a bowl of cherries" with sting and sorrow. OR - you can turn it around to the actual sweet idiom: Life is a bowl of cherries! and just experience gratitude. It's all in the naming of things.
Looking at what is my life, I'm reminded of the character quote:
Watch your thoughts, for they become words.Watch your words, for they become actions.Watch your actions, for they become habits.Watch your habits, for they become character.Watch your character, for it becomes your destiny.
Author Unknown
Now I'm heading to upstairs to eat some cherries and cut up some fabric in my studio, because I am a hungry artist.
