A while ago I did a show with Bumbershoot Children's Theatre called Munsch Ado About Nothing. A lively show that combined several Robert Munsch stories into one. It was a lot of work, but also, thanks mainly to a fantastic cast a whole lotta fun.
Here's a few of my favourite pictures taken of the show by another good friend of mine, photographer Simone Wittenberg.
So.Munsch.Fun.
Funny thing about trying to remain present, you suddenly cue in to all this beauty around you. All the this that you missed before because you were busy worrying about the shoulds and shouldn'ts of the past and the future. The core of electric current is suddenly and decidedly powered on when you are in the present. It's kind of like trying to see with your eyes closed - you are forced to use your other senses. You notice things you didn't before. You realize that they were always there. And you are grateful.
Last night I went to the most amazing show. Theatre Rusticle is touring this show. I had the utmost privilege of seeing not only the show, but also seeing and reconnecting with the very lovely Lucy who plays the venerable ship, as it were, in April 14, 1912. And as it happens, Lucy and I go way back. Her sister was one of my best friends the last few years of high school. Seeing Lucy perform was an emotional and deeply gratifying thing. Being present in the moment last night, I saw such beauty, such grace, such primal power - instinct and memory and power. Last night I saw dreams realized. Last night I saw poetry danced. And it reminded me that I miss painting because, much like Rusticle dances poetry, I paint sounds. That's what I do. That's what I have forgotten.
And if I hadn't been present I never would have picked up on that. I would have been too busy worrying about shoulds and shouldn'ts. I would have ignored the persistent itch to hold a brush and find the movement in the music and translate it into colour and texture, shape and form. And I would have missed the chance to remember what I want.
Brooches! Just for you Simone. I'm working on more but here's a humble first offering.
Vintage plaid wool and button flower brooches. Set of three.
Cute!
[hat not included...or made by me...but it's GREEN! so yay!]:: take on old lady-ish sweater
:: remake into cute and warm winter hat
:: embellish with sweater flowers and vintage glass buttons
:: enjoy!
Yesterday I had a lovely visit with the Susanne, winner of the purse! We had such a great, if too quick, visit and a fab cup of coffee.
:: The sun was streaming through her front window. ::
:: Her children delighted and entertained. ::
And although she got a new purse, I'm pretty sure I was the lucky one.
The last few days I've been thinking a lot about this old blog. Writing everyday has made me aware of a few things: one, that I miss it, and two, that I have so little time now to actually write in it. Which would account for the lame-o posts the last week or so, not counting the lovely Erika's interview yesterday. I got my questions from my interviewer, the equally lovely, unequivocally insightful and super dedicated Deb over at Jane Poet. Wow! she dug deep and braved the entirety of my archives. That is some serious dedication to her task. She sought to know the subject and know it well. Her questions were like a walk down memory lane. She had me rereading posts I'd long forgotten. She had me laughing at myself all over again.
And, she had me thinking about why I do this thing and more importantly, why I haven't given it up. I guess - and this is hard for me to admit - that I do actually like writing. I just have trouble believing I should be writing. I don't count myself smart enough, witty enough, or nearly talented enough to be doing this. And yet I do love the words. In the end it's very much about the words.
So I guess what I'm saying is that I am recommitting to writing here. And not just whiney posts about how I never write anything. I miss this place.
And I miss the process of finding my voice.
Hey, guess what? See you tomorrow.
Today I was able to see a project - a BIG project - come full circle. From inspiration to creation, from purpose and process to completion. And for a prolific starter like me this is no small milestone. The quilt that I have been working on for my late friend's wee daughter is done. I took it to the M.O.M.s group that Susan and I both attended, both served on leadership team, both loved, laughed and cried and in general did life together. With the help of these dear ladies the binding was joined to the back of the quilt and it was finally, at long last (insert heavy sigh of relief here) DONE.
I am ever mindful of the gift I've been given: these eyes that see in fabric and paint, these hands that are still willing to learn new skills, this brain that is capable of sorting out the how of this project. I spent long hours thinking about how to approach this one, the weight of it ever on my shoulders and in my heart. I simply didn't want to make a mess of this. And I thought of Susan every step of the way. Of her humour and her heart. Of her willingness to lend a hand. Of the pain - very real and often severe pain - that she bore without a single word never mind a complaint. Of her love for Carley, the miracle she never thought she'd have because of her illness. All this I thought of and never once touched this project without uttering a simple prayer God, you know who this is for and what it means. Guide me and guard it.
A huge thank you to everyone who helped take apart Susan's clothing and who sewed along with me today, who cheered me on every step of the way. Thank you for having faith in me even when I doubted I couldn't bring this home. And most of all thank you to Carley and Spencer who trusted me with Susan's most favorite outfits (those Ikeda overalls!!). I hope it was worth the wait.
I'm still struggling to find the balance around here between all the parts of me. The me that homeschools E. The me that need to maintain some semblance of order around the house. The me that need to be attentive to the needs of not just the wee people and wee pup but also the grown up in the house too. The me who's creative synapses are firing in a million different directions right now. The me who is actually producing some amazing stuff.
The problem I'm still having though is that when that me who creates and invents takes over it's a little bit like the Bugs Bunny cartoon where he drinks the potion and becomes Jekyll and Hyde. I feel a little beastly right now. I'm knee deep in a project that needs to be completed by Tuesday and it's going well. I'm so pleased with it. Resentment is mounting though. I mean, when I'm on a roll, I don't even like to stop to eat or go to the bathroom. People, I resent bodily functions when I'm in this state. I mean, how ridiculous is that? It's like I'm temporarily inserted into a manic state, and let me tell you, it's not really all that fun for me or my family. Yesterday I showered (novel idea) and I was in such a rush that I forgot to put on deodorant. And that's not the worst part. The worst part is that I realized I hadn't put any on and I chose to ignore the fact based on the fact that stopping what I was doing and trekking back upstairs would be too much a waste of precious time. I'm starting to understand why some artist are such social misfits (read: total nutters).
The rest of my life is falling apart too. The kids and the dog and the adults in my life have been sadly neglected. The house? Oh the house. It's a disaster. The laundry has sneaked off and multiplied itself under my very nose. The clutter has crept back in. There are (and I kid you not) fabric scraps tracked through the whole house. I keep finding them absolutely everywhere.
I think I need to stop reading blogs like Soulemama and Angry Chicken. These women! I love their blogs (and their work) truly, I do. Problem is they seemingly do it all. Their blogs are full of lovely photos depicting happy children doing crafts (!) and project updates and beautiful studios with stacks of neatly folded fabric on display and recipes for actual food they serve their family and (AND!!) they write books. Beautiful books all while nurturing their families, sewing things for their shops, photographing every lovely moment. Don't they ever have meltdowns? Don't they ever serve grilled cheese with carrot sticks and apple slices for dinner again? Don't they ever look around and want to scream at the piles of project and the long list of other demands? Don't they ever scream and have to apologize after? Is the sun always shining in their world? Maybe it's all just carefully edited. Maybe they are just as nutters as me from time to time. But clearly, peaking into their worlds is not helping me cope with mine.
Here's what I need. I need to find some real mama craft blogs where after a day of harried sewing/cooking/cleaning/fight-breaking-upping they sit slightly slumped and glassy eyed on a couch full of unfolded laundry and drink a glass of wine before shuffling into bed, which for the record, is unmade.
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