Thumbelina & Hope

I remember a powerful scene in the movie Shawshank Redemption. Andy has just gotten out of the hole after spending a month there for playing music over the intercom system - music that awakened something in the inmates they had forgotten or never knew existed. One of the inmates comments about how difficult and lonely it is in the hole. Andy responds: 
 
Andy: I had Mr. Mozart to keep me company...[points and taps his head.] It was in here. [gestures over his heart] And in here. That's the beauty of music. They can't get that from you. Haven't you ever felt that way about music?

Red: Well... I played a mean harmonica as a younger man. Lost interest in it, though. Didn't make too much sense in here.

Andy: No, here's where it makes the most sense. You need it so you don't forget.

Red: Forget?

Andy: That there are places in the world that aren't made out of stone. That there's... there's somethin' inside that they can't get to; that they can't touch. It's yours.

Red: What are you talkin' about?

Andy: Hope.

Red: Hope? Let me tell you something, my friend. Hope is a dangerous thing. Hope can drive a man insane. It's got no use on the inside. You'd better get used to that idea.

Andy: Like Brooks did?

Although I've never been in prison (so far) I understand exactly what Red is saying. But several weeks ago I was sharing with friends and realized that hope no longer felt dangerous to me. It felt like something precious of mine, like a bird that I needed to care for and protect no matter what happened in the "real" world. I was reminded of Thumbelina, a favorite fairy tale from childhood. In the story, a woman who had no children dreamed about having a little girl but the dream never came true. She went to a witch who gave her a magic grain of barley, which the woman planted. The grain turned into a lovely flower and inside it was a little girl no bigger than a thumb. Thumbelina is snatched by a frog, a beetle, and a spider, and eventually ends up with a field mouse whose plan is to marry Thumbelina to a rich mole. She's already been through alot, and now this! It looks like she'll be married to an old furry half-blind mole and stuck in dark underground tunnels for the rest of her life. During a visit to the mole the field mouse and Thumbelina come across a swallow that looks dead. The mole nudges the bird and says, "That'll teach her! She should have come underground instead of darting about the sky all summer!" That sounds a little like something Red might say. The mole's words horrify Thumbelina who secretly nurses the swallow back to health. The bird carries Thumbelina off to freedom and of course, she meets her prince.

Life is full of big and little deaths and disappointments and it's easy to give in to cynicism and give up on hope. This fairy tale reminds me to take care of my hopes and dreams because they are a part of me. I don't know when, if or how some of my hopes will be realized but I don't need to. I just need to follow my heart like Thumbelina did as her heart went out to the wounded swallow. I made a shrine on the theme of Thumbelina as a way of working with the symbols and ideas of the story that was and still is so meaningful to me.

Spider Woman

It's funny the journeys that a project can take you on. This started with the prompt "Something Old" announced on the blog Mixed Media Monday. My first thought was to find images of beauty in older women, something one doesn't see much of in the media. Somewhere in the the assortment of pictures (google image search) was an image that related to the First Nation myth of Spider Woman. Now that idea had some real energy and it took off from there. I used silver thread to string a spider web on the door of the box, which I'd just purchased at Found in Portland for $8.00. It didn't have any glass - perfect! It wasn't easy at first - broke the trim at one point - but then it started to flow and I got a taste of the joy of weaving and a new respect for spiders. I used a bead loom to create a mini-weaving and some embroidery thread to create balls of yarn. A trip to a leather store yielded a piece of rabbit skin and some deerskin. The little pot was made with air-drying clay. This was such a joy to make.  

"Spider Woman appears in stories throughout the Americas, even throughout the world. She is found among the Fates that weave destiny. The name Penelope in the Odyssey means "with a web on her face - the one who sees with "webbed vision. In Pueblo mythology Thought Woman, Sun Father, and Corn Mother are the most important deities. These primal deities are interdependent. Thought Woman, the Spider Woman, is the creatrix, who imagines things, and as she thinks them, they become. This is the creative impulse she passes on, originating from the primal center of the Web, an eternally generative thread continually expanding." (From: http://www.rainwalker.com/)

Spider Woman possessed supernatural power at the time of creation, when Dine (Navajo) emerged from the third world into this fourth world...It was Spider Woman who taught Dine ancestors of long ago the art of weaving upon a loom. She told them, "My husband, Spider Man, constructed the weaving loom making the cross poles of sky and Earth cords to support the structure; the warp sticks of sun rays, lengthwise to cross the woof; the healds of rock crystal...Through many generations, the Dine have always been accomplished weavers

SPIDER WOMAN SAVES THE DAY

One day, a peaceful cave-dwelling Dine youth was hunting in Dead Man's Canyon...Suddenly, he saw an enemy tribesman who chased him deeper into the canyon. As the peaceful Dine ran, he looked quickly from side to side, searching for a place to hide or to escape. Directly in front of him stood the giant obelisk-like Spider Rock [where Spider Woman lives]. What could he do? He knew it was too difficult for him to climb. He was near exhaustion. Suddenly, before his eyes he saw a silken cord hanging down from the top of the rock tower. The youth grapsed the magic cord, which seemed strong enough, and quickly tied it around his wist. With its help he climbed the tall tower, escaping from his enemy who then gave up the chase. When the youth reached the top, he stretched out to rest. There he discovered a most pleasant place with eagle's eggs to eat and the night's dew to drink.

Imagine his surprise when he learned that his rescuer was Spider Woman! She told him how she had seen him and his predicamnet. She showed him how she made her strong web-cord and anchored one end of it to a point of rock. She showed him how she she let down the rest of her web-cord to help him climb the rugged Spider Rock. Later, when the peaceful youth felt assured his enemy was gone, he thanked Spider Woman warmly and safely descended to the canyon floor by using her magic cord. He ran home as fast as he could run, reporting to his tribe how his life was saved by Spider Woman. (From http://www.firstpeople.us/)

A Little Serendipity

A rock pile ceases to be a rock pile the moment a single man contemplates it, bearing within him the image of a cathedral.     ~Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, Flight to Arras, 1942

Serendipity is one of my favorite things. Jung called it synchronicity, which sounds very serious. To me it's a wink from the universe.

I keep hearing about the importance of exercise for the thinking brain, the emotions, and all the body parts. It's always a struggle, partly because I'm tired and partly because I've got all these achy bits (my hunch is I'd be less sore if I exercised more). But I needed exercise for my body and to air my brain this afternoon; it was time for a walk. I decided to take a slightly different route than usual and set off at a, for me, brisk pace. It started to sprinkle but it was a gentle, spring rain that made me feel invigorated. On my way back home I encountered a lady with a polka dot umbrella who commented on the beautiful green of the Pacific Northwest. She ended up sharing her umbrella with me while we walked and chatted. I learned that she's a retired teacher from California. I learned that she has a beautiful grandaughter who sang to a squirrel with a hurt leg. I learned that she came from Ireland and was descended from a long line of teachers - her great grandmother was what they call a "hedge teacher"* We visited for several blocks and then, about a block from my house we took different roads. I walked no more than 10 steps and caught sight of something green laying on the ground. Yup, that's it in the picture - a shamrock. I have no idea how that shamrock got there but I do know it made me smile.

*Hedge teachers preserved Irish culture by secretly teaching the language, history, and tradition of the Irish at a time when it was forbidden by the English penal laws of 1702 to 1719: "no person of the popish religion shall publicly or in private houses teach school, or instruct youth in learning within this realm..." Ah, the spirited Irish soul!

Not Boring Anyway

I like nonsense, it wakes up the brain cells. Fantasy is a necessary ingredient in living, it's a way of looking at life through the wrong end of a telescope. Which is what I do, and that enables you to laugh at life's realities. ~Theodore Geisel


I've always wanted to work with tile and the installation of a sink in my studio (aka garage) was the perfect opportunity to play with some of the amazing colors and shapes of tile available. It started with a trek to Pratt and Larsons seconds store where I found some polka dot tiles in bright colors along with some 4X4s. The tiles that edge the sink are from a garage sale.

The polka dots and 4X4s ran out by the time I got to the backsplash. Off to Pratt and Larsons I went and custom ordered polka dots in delicious colors - so much for trying to save pennies. My hope is that the riot of colors and shapes will make people smile when they play in my studio. 

The next project will be to invite friends to a party to "Jackson Pollock" the cement floor. I did it to the linoleum floor in my bathroom to cover up the paint drips left by someone who didn't use a dropcloth. There's nothing quite like throwing paint around without worrying about making a mess or how it looks.

I thought I better capture the countertop on film because this is the cleanest it's going to ever be!

The Hand

No Animals Were Harmed

1,002 Gifts

It has been a rough ride for over a year now. Many difficult and intense experiences - in my life, in the lives of those around me, and in the world at large - prompted me to create something with my hands that would express my grief and perhaps help me find a way through it. What I came up with is a collage called 1,001 Sorrows, 1,002 Gifts. It's pretty damn intense! but it expresses the way little seedings of new life and possibility sprout in the dark soil of sorrow.

There's a picture of my father and me in the cockpit of the Spruce Goose in the upper left hand corner. It was the last trip we took together before his fall two days later. He was in a coma for almost a year before he passed away in March 2010, two days after my birthday. That trip was such a gift for me, probably the best day we'd shared, just the two of us, since I was a child. Above the picture of the Spruce Goose is my favorite picture of my father and me when I was a child.

There's a watch face that symbolizes time and timing. It is a reminder to me that "this too shall pass" and maybe it says something about the right timing for the seeds to sprout. The bolt of lightning suggests the way grief and trouble can break one open, so the heart is more open to receive and give love. In the bottom left corner is a glass lens (if you click on the pictures it should be easier to see). The lens focuses on a bird flying against the backdrop of a sunset - or is that a sunrise?

Then there's the rainbow behind the curtain and all the little crystal "stars" glued onto the canvas - seeds of light or love or life. It hasn't been easy to track the gifts while things have been so difficult but my vision is getting better. Maybe it gets easier over time. Yes, I think so.

The Art of Creating a Mess   

Make it, like it, do a little, wreck it, fix it. Sometimes this is repeated many times before the piece sings. Serena Barton

Trying to make things “pretty” or “beautiful” can be deadly to the creative process. There’s a gifted child inside all of us that wants to make messes. It’s out of those messes that wonderful things happen. Manure doesn’t smell nice but it makes delicious vegetables. I remember my art professor, David Maclagan, saying that everything beautiful has an element of ugliness in it. That struck me as very strange since art and beauty are so closely allied in my mind. After hearing that comment I paid more attention to works of art and tried to see what he was talking about. I began to see how artists like Rembrandt and DaVinci use dark colors to give depth. Rubens’ lovely ladies are rounded on all corners, dimpled and fleshy. Not exactly "top model" material - but they are alive.

Top model Tyra Banks talks about the unique quirks that make a model stand out. Oftentimes they are qualities that were criticized or mocked when that model was a child. Hmm, that makes me think of those parts of me that I’ve learned to reject and scorn. They may not be pretty but they do make me unique, and alive.

When I took my first encaustic class with Serena Barton I had a chance to learn firsthand how to work with my inner critic, who demands perfection (like that’s gonna happen) and my inner child, who loves to make messes. Encaustic has always intrigued me – there’s something about its layered luminescence that is so beautiful and interesting. Serena was a great teacher who encouraged each of us to play with the materials. The first piece came together easily, like a gift from the muse to get me started. It was subtle, with gentle colors and aged images. If you look closely you can see her eyes looking at the man in the stamp. Her lover perhaps?

I wanted to do another one with more color and life. Something a little more relaxed than my first one, which I created with the controlling nervousness of a beginner. I was hungry for it after watching people around me create with such abandon. I wanted this piece to be abstract and random and uncontrolled. I swished on a rainbow of different colors that attracted me. Didn’t like that green, at all. And there were all kinds of pits, bubbles, and lumpy spots on the board. I kept trying to smooth things out but it wasn’t going to happen. Serena said the bubbles are to be expected. What about the lumps? Everyone else’s seemed to be smoother. Well, I might as well work with it rather than trying to “defeat” it or perfect it. So I started to carve it and poke at it and besides being cathartic, interesting things began to happen. Colors became layered and the green became interesting instead of annoying, I liked the texture that was developing. It was almost like sculpting in wax.

So, the moral of the story? This is what I learned from the experience:

Don’t give up – If that inner voice (aka “The Critic”) isn’t satisfied, that’s okay. That means there’s something more you're wanting. It isn’t quite there yet. Keep at it. If you keep at it and it’s still frustrating it might be time to set it aside for a bit (hour, day, month, year). You can return to it with fresh eyes, new skills, and some more enthusiasm.

Loosen up—Be playful. Give your inner child space to enjoy herself. Give your inner adult a chance to relax.

Let go—Sounds like a sermon but it’s very appropriate to the creative process. That can mean letting go to the spiritual, however you define it. Or it can mean letting go to your inner muse, your inner child, or your unconscious. The most important thing is to let go of one’s agenda (smooth, pretty, perfect, pleasing to someone like a friend or buyer). Each piece has its own way of being, like a child. If you let go then it can become what it wants to be. And that's a good thing.

 Make messes—Go for it. Muck around in colors, textures, materials. Let a mess happen and work (play) with it. Making a mess can be an end in itself, which is good practice, or it can be a seed bed for your project. When you feel some tension inside because it is not measuring up to your expectations, take a deep breath, stand back, and look at it with a curious eye. Watch for the nugget of gold in it: Where is the energy in your piece? Where does your eye gravitate to? Is there an interesting combination of colors or textures? When you find something unexpected that you like, build on it until you're satisfied, until you can feel it "sing".

It is good—Don't forget to stand back and appreciate your creation. You did it! You created something new. You gave yourself an opportunity for creative expression. You practiced a skill. You nourished your inner muse.

The Possible's slow fuse is lit

By the Imagination.  ~Emily Dickinson

Images: Rubens, "Three Graces" and Rembrandt, "A Rabbi"

The Gratitude Challenge

They are ill discoverers that think there is no land, when they can see nothing but sea. ~Francis Bacon

Gratitude is a good place to begin I think. It has power - to transform a dismal day, or moment, or season of life. My father used to say that a glass is half empty or half full. But it's both, Dad. Okay, I know. This isn't about a literal glass, it's about perception and how my attitude can make a huge difference in how I experience something. When I focus on the "glass" as half-empty pretty soon that glass fills up with sadness, or anger, or disappointment. And when I focus on the "glass" as half-full pretty soon I am filled with joy and happiness that helps me savor the gifts of the moment.

This is a trying time to be practicing gratitude. Everywhere I look someone is dealing with a loss of some kind in different areas of life: finances, relationships, death, illness, etc. etc. etc. Me too. Maybe it's more important to practice gratitude at such times. At the very least it will make me feel better and who knows, maybe I'll activate that law of attraction in a more savory direction.

In the interest of stirring up some joy in my life I decided to create a gratitude shrine. It started out as a wire tree with "leaves" that are labeled with different things I'm grateful for: friends, family, pets, adventures, healing, etc. I thought it would be fun to pick a word for the day like "friends" and let it be a theme. At different moments I could think of the friends I'm grateful for, qualities in a friend that I treasure, experiences I've shared with that friend, etc. So then I made a gratitude box and filled it with tokens that I could pick at random.

Now, all I have to do is practice. The choice is yours, Karen, which will it be - a glass full of joy or a glass full of disappointments?