Living Graciously

Elena Ray calls her daily work grace, because it keeps her “centered for the purpose she serves.”

Her work is a grace to others as well ~ certainly to me. Her exploration of sacred symbolism is created with an elegant hand, and her intelligence is ample. She may be somewhat apostate when she makes a statement such as:

The finger pointing at the moon is not the moon, though the elegant hand and the intelligence that animates it may actually be as important as the moon; and in fact, may be the moon.

Om Bird ~ by Elena Ray (used with permission)

I, too, hover between longing for the divine and reveling in my own divinity. We have often been reminded that the map is not the territory ( I like to say, don’t try to eat the recipe book). But since we are apparently divine beings wrapped in a physical package, it seems to me that the mundane and the divine are in a constant state of flux.

In fact, I have come to believe that all things serve a sacred purpose: to wake us up to our own divinity.

My work is a beneficence in my life, a grace that never fails to enlighten, challenge, and even entertain me (if that is not too profane).

In a profound way, art is a gift that I give myself. I go to my studio. I pick up tools and allow my mind to become engaged with a subject. I make the choice to keep working when I could do something else ~ watch TV, play bridge, paint my toenails. I am fascinated with how my life ~ through intuitive glimpses,  realizations,  discoveries ~ manifests itself into works that can be seen and touched by others, as well as my self.

I am a creator, and my creations teach me what it means to conceive, conceptualize, and birth something into being. Not worlds, perhaps, but with great enough intentions, who knows what I, or you, could manifest. At the very least, my intention is to continue being grateful for my life, and the art that enables me to take expeditions beneath the surface of that life.

That, for me, is living graciously.

You prepare the feast

A banquet of images

My full heart sings OM

Some of Elena Ray’s galleries:

Pixiport

Absolute Arts

Art.com

Imagekind

Absolutesnap (I love this: is it absolute snaps or absolutes nap?)

Cracked Paper Quilts 2: Stitching the Paper Sandwich

My second video about making Cracked Paper Quilts is now ready to view.

This time, the paper top that was created in the first video becomes the top layer of my quilt sandwich. Then I begin to sew the dickens out of it.

You can also view it by going to Cracked Paper Quilts 2: Stitching the Paper Sandwich on Vimeo.

Tammy Vitale

Tammy Vitale, a dear and supportive blogosphere friend, is featured on MMCA Marketplace.

I happened upon Tammy’s blog, Women, Art, Life: Weaving It All Together, and soon became a regular reader for a number of reasons. I love her work: it has wonderful energy and is very unique. Her ceramic torsos are gorgeous, as are her tiles and jewelery. And they all work together: a piece of jewelry (when it’s not being worn) might hang on the torso and a tile may continue a theme from a torso.

Ceramic Torso by Tammy Vitale

Then there are her drawings, which come straight from her soul, and which are a celebration of life as she so deeply experiences it. I also fell in love with her poetry, which she shares now and then.

We began making comments on each other’s blogs, and emailing back and forth. I suspect that Tammy is a great support to many others, as well. As she says in the interview:

I believe that it’s important to share what you have discovered with anyone interested enough to ask.  They will take the information and make it their own.  This is not stealing.  It is building upon what has come before.  All artists do it.

I also believe that there is an energy that artists channel – we are creators in that it comes through us – like children.  And like children, the energy is not ours to keep.  We get it here.  We nurture it.  We put it out there so whomever is looking for it can find it and take it to its true home.

Tammy has inspiring advice for the emerging artist:

Believe in yourself first.  Everything else comes from that.  Then be willing to be passionately committed to your art.  Treat it like you would your dearest love…that kind of devotion.

Well, I believe in Tammy. Her passion, generosity, and devotion shine through everything she does.

Ceramic Tile by Tammy Vitale

Incubation and the Art Process

I have an insightful friend/artist, who asked me a very pertinent question about the poetry I write. Let me tell you that when discussing things with her, you had better be prepared for razor sharp penetration to the heart of an issue. It is one of the things I love about her. I had mentioned that I wasn’t writing much anymore, because I was so focused on quilt making. Here was her question/statement:

“Surely the contemplative nature of its incubation could be a productive part of your art process?”

That question left me speechless as it echoed in my skull chamber. I was tempted to smack myself on the forehead, but I have learned to accept that sometimes we are oblivious to the most obvious things about ourselves. It takes the probing of another~a loving, sentient being~to help us achieve certain realizations. Thank you Margi!

I put Margi’s insights together with Tammy Vitale’s November 21st offering, over at Women, Art, Life, of  a poem that touched others, as well as myself.  It is titled Dream. Ellie, responded by sharing  a poem of her own. She also said she once played piano! Leah liked the poem and when I went to her site, I was very taken with her work! It has the quality of visual poetry! Then I found this page by Tinkerings. The water lily is a favorite image of mine, and this hand is beautifully rendered.

So, I am going to crash the music playing, poetry writing, image making party with a poem (and image) of my own. But first, let me say that I played piano at one time (years of exams and festivals) but gave it up to pursue art and poetry. I simply didn’t feel I could spend the hours needed, any more, to keep my technique up to the level required to do justice to Bach, Mozart, etc.

As for this poem, I don’t know if it’s finished; it was in my head when I woke up yesterday morning, around 5 pm, and hurried to the computer to capture it. I may decide I have to change some words, or entire lines in the future, but I’m going to publish it anyway. The image is part of my Daily Design Papers practice, though I didn’t publish it on the blog.

Our hope would have it

There is something
within us,
something golden and round like a holy
yolk that seeks to break
free.    It’s not

that this structure    of
skin and bone lacks
comfort or
familiarity.  It actually seems
alive.    We pet
and groom it,  teach it
tricks,  entice it
with treats.    But inevitably
the pins that hold it all
in place let loose     the soft shell
crumbles.    What walked
and talked now proves
itself a mere

container.    That precious
orb within is still
intact     at least
our hope would have it
so     despite
its perfect    absolute
inscrutability.    Or,
perhaps,

because of it?

© Carol Wiebe

Perfect yolk

Repurposed Art

Cyndi Lavin asked a question this morning on her blog Layers upon Layers (Now BlissTree):

Do you spend time shooting elements for later use too?

I had to leave a comment, which went like this: Oh my, YES! I can hardly take “ordinary” pictures any more. I’m always thinking of line, texture, shape, colour for future artwork. And like Christy (whose work I really like, by the way), I take pictures of my own work in various stages to also use in future work. It’s like the mirror in the mirror, it keeps going on forever. When you “repurpose” your own work, it’s much like a color that looks completely different beside other colors. And you can take any small piece, and produce a whole design out of it, or make different design papers for collage. Thus, any one piece can instigate a myriad of others. It makes creating a series such a fascinating journey!

Design paper from embroidery on a friend's shirt

And Tammy, over at Women, Art, Life, had more of her incredible quotes: they always get my blood flowing a little faster. Read the angel poem she found, by Judith Roche, and I’m sure you’ll be hungry for more. Right now, I feel like painting angels!

A different light

Spheres

There is geometry in the humming of the strings, there is music in the spacing of the spheres.  ~Pythagoras

I went shopping in Vancouver yesterday, with my husband and sister, and ended up taking many pictures in a shop that carried items like stone tables, statuary, doors, etc. The spheres caught my attention, among other things. My sister has been to this store many times, and used a number of the resulting photos in some of her collage paintings. She also buys pieces, periodically, so they are quite indulgent about shutter snapping on their premises. Besides, for all they know, we are making a record of future items to purchase.

Shopping is not my favorite activity, unless the shop is an art store or book store, but finding shops where you can photograph items for art’s sake puts the activity in a whole different light!

My sister is coming to PLAY!

Kids don’t just go over to each others’ houses anymore; they have a play-date. Well, this Friday, my sister is coming over to begin our marathon art play-date. Being some 2500+ miles apart, this does not happen very often. So, I am VERY EXCITED about it. This is not about getting company: this isn’t the typical family visit, to catch up on family news, nor is it about business, although I’m sure she could give me a few tips. It’s about ART and the fact that we both love doing it and have decided to explore it, for a week, together. Oh joy, oh bliss. And my dear husband, when he found out she was coming, said, “I’ll be your support for the week, then.” Meaning, he will cook and bottle wash. Obviously, I won the husband lottery. It’s the best kind to win!

Every day
I see or hear
something
that more or less
kills me
with delight,
that leaves me
like a needle
in the haystack
of light.
It was what I was born for -
to look, to listen,
to lose myself
inside this soft world -
to instruct myself
over and over
in joy,
and acclamation.

From Mindful, by Mary Olver

Be Open

Someone at work said this to me last week. We were talking about what’s been happening in my life as far as my artwork is concerned, and she said I should be open to whatever could happen. This may sound rather undefined to you, but there were strings within my being that vibrated with, and kept reverberating to her words. How could she know that this is a constant entreaty I make to Life: help me be open. Awake, and open.

You use a glass mirror to see your face: You use works of art to see your soul.   ~George Bernard Shaw

Art, like poetry, can take an idea, a feeling, an issue, and distill it to its essence; present it to viewers in such a way that they get a sense of surpassing their individual limitations, of glimpsing something through the eyes of the Soul.

But many artists have expressed their amazement at the fact that through the process of art making, they get glimpses of their own soul.

Art is, quite literally, a spiritual practice, a way of opening to Life and Love, of putting the ineffable in a physical form. This does not take genius, or even superlative artistic talent. It does take openness, dedication, and a willingness to follow what one has seen, heard, and felt. To let it be expressed. As many heroes in fiction, and “real” life, have demonstrated, succeeding is wonderful, but often just trying is enough. Making the attempt. Daring to do something, make something, say something. And when success is not achieved, being open enough to try again, and keep on trying. Against all odds, as the saying goes.

I call it the Frodo Effect. The “I am only ordinary, but I am open to doing what I am called to do, and so may be instrumental in achieving something extraordinary” effect.

Be open.

Quite a Step

It is quite a step to jump from doodles to passion, but I am inspired, for whatever strange reasons, to do so.

I have a great passion for doing art. I am constantly drawn to others who exhibit this passion, who spend every spare moment, or, who “steal” moments from activities that others might consider more necessary, or even sacrosanct, in order to practice art. My thoughts seldom stray far from some aspect of it. Whenever I spend money, it is usually in service of art. I read to educate myself about techniques and processes that would help me better serve my obsession. I dream of it, and wake with the desire to do more of it, always more. I am a devout practitioner, an ardent follower, of a practice that has gripped the hearts and minds of many others “foolish” enough to let their souls be revealed, openly, on paper, clay, stone, metal, cloth.

I cannot present an impressive list of accomplishments, or degrees that any institution has granted me to justify this title of artist. I have simply given it to myself. I make art to enrich my life, to better understand the world and my place in it. If I want to know something, I start making art around it. I listen for direct references or allusions to it: a song, a remark, a news article, a conversation. I notice things that are connected to it: a feather on the pavement, the colors of a fallen leaf, the design of a wrought iron fence, the gestures of tree limbs, reaching with the same yearning I experience, into an immense sky. My dreams provide startling metaphors. My hands fashion symbols, designs. To you, my piece of art may be unremarkable, go unnoticed; your journey and mine may not be compatible at present. Or, you may recognize my work as a signpost along your journey, because you intuit my underlying influences, the connections between us.

When I look at certain pieces of art, there is something that rises within me, that recognizes the beauty and strength of the artist’s vision, that is exhilarated by the possibilities inspired by that vision. I am compelled to keep looking, trying to take it in, hoping to absorb its energy or, perhaps, vibrate at the same level of energy I perceive emanating from it. At such times, I offer praise to that artist for affording me such a moment of grace. This is how I experience holiness/wholeness.

Mary Oliver says, at the end of her poem “Mockingbirds:”

Wherever it was
I was supposed to be
this morning–
whatever it was I said

I would be doing–
I was standing
at the edge of the field–
I was hurrying

through my own soul,
opening its dark doors–
I was leaning out;
I was listening.

That is what I’m doing with the art I create. I’m leaning out. I’m listening. I’m opening every dark door of my soul that I encounter. And I’m willing to share the view.

Small Quilt Craze

All right, so maybe it’s not a craze. I have no idea how many people are actually doing it. The ATC phenomenon seems to have reached epic proportions, and the Inchies have now hit the scene. So far, I’ve had little desire to do either, but one never knows in what form the muse will inspire next; which brings me to the work of Jane Davila, a fiber and mixed media artist, and her partner Elin Waterston. They have a new book out called Art Quilt Workbook, which Amazon describes as follows

“Part quiltmaking workbook, part business guide, Art Quilt Workbook shows how to take quilting in a creative new direction through art–then sell the quilts at craft fairs and other venues.”

“A creative new direction through art” could mean just about anything, but when you behold Jane and Elin’s work, they both manage to do a superb job in a very small format. I decided to attempt some small quilts: around the 8.5 x 11 inch size. That’s the real estate of one sheet of computer paper.

When I was taking University classes, I loved writing papers. It was always a joy for me: the research, the finding or filling out of a thesis, the fine tuning of what I had learned and the challenge to express it in an interesting and compelling way (And yes, I confess, I did suffer some mockery for my exuberance, in general, and this penchant, specifically). However, when I was working on my MLIS (Masters of Library and Information Science–now THERE’S a mouthful) we were, ironically I thought, asked to write a ream of papers that could be no longer than 2 pages ( a mere 600 words)! This proved to be much more difficult than producing , say, 40 pages. I typically excavated a fair amount of material from the library stacks, and enjoyed including ALL of it. (Yes, I do know what “succint” means. Sometimes quantity can be quality.)

That aside was my attempt to explain my trepidation about small quilts, which is, in some ways, hilarious, because my art work is seldom anywhere near a bed quilt size. But this art business is all about extending one’s toes beyond the usual stomping territory. So here goes . . . with hopes for a pirouette or two.

One more thing: I am reading Foolsgold, by Susan G. Wooldridge. Her intro, right off the bat, delivers a zing that makes every cell sing: “Don’t ask yourself what the world needs. Ask yourself what makes you come alive, and then go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.” –Harold Thurman Whitman.

(WIKIPEDIA: For some unexplained reason, the [above] quote is widely and incorrectly attributed on the Internet to Harold Thurman Whitman. The actual author of this quote is Dr. Howard Thurman. Harold Thurman Whitman is purely fictional.)