Thursday, December 13, 2012
On December 2nd I attended a gathering at my daughter's school called the Spiral of Light, a celebration in preparation for the winter ahead of us. We all sat in a darkened room and an older student, dressed as an angel, entered with a candle. She walked into the center of a spiral that was created on the floor with evergreen garlands, and lit a candle in the center. Then, she escorted each child, one by one, who carried a candle and walked into the spiral, lit their candle from the center candle and then walked out of the spiral, putting down the candle on the outer rim..until the entire outer rim of the spiral was lit, creating a room full of light, beauty and wonder.
As I watched my daughter slowly enter the spiral I reflected on how she has her own path to walk, in the dark, without me. As I saw her face lit with the candlight I realized she also has her own light to guide her way. I remember being told by a good friend of mine that when our children are born, it is like they are attached to us with a rubber band. At first they are close to us, dependant on us for survival. Then sometimes they will want to stretch apart from us and we will feel more distance from them. However, even as they stretch away and back again, we will always remain connected.
When I make belly bowls for pregnant women, I use the spiral because it reminds me of the center, the umbilical cord, that attachment we have to our children and the symolism of our lives as a journey from the center out into the world. Not only will our children want and need to stretch away from us at times in their lives, we also need to give them the opportunity to grasp onto the nourishment and offerings that the world outside of our connection has to offer them. This honors our children, allowing them to use their inner light, to strenghten their center and their core. Even though I was a tad bit weepy at seeing my "little girl" walking her own path, I also felt solace in that there were other lights in the room, lights that could supply warmth and illuminations and life experiences that I alone could not provide for her. When she came back to me, smiling and whispered "Mommy that was fun! I want to do it again" I knew that collectively, all of our lights together would get us through this winter.
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
...from Drawing as a Sacred Activity by Heather C. Williams
"When emotions are oceanic, we desperately try to figure things out with intellect. Yet its limited, linear approach just can't always do the job. You feel like you are sinking in this sea of overwhelm. You need to focus your attention with the right brain. Your heart, like your emotions, is oceanic, and it can help you swim to shore. Drawing your heart out onto a piece of paper can help you gain the edge you need to pull yourself out of emotional overwhelm."
I read this excerpt from this book and immediately came up with an image of a heart inside a boat, rowing to shore..then, as often happens with me, I heard the tune of a familiar song...but I wanted to change the lyrics to...
Row Row Row your heart,
Gently down the stream
Safely, safely to the shore
Even when you must scream..
Monday, November 5, 2012
To help the night fairies tend their plants and play in the dark, Michaelmas Daisy sprinkles fairy dust into the yellow middles of his flowers. The gleaming blossoms become lanterns lighting up the tiny fariy paths around the garden and allowing the fairies to see what they are doing.
As winter approaches, the nights are coming sooner, the air is brisk, and it is a time to keep warm with our inner light, guiding us through the season. I feel the need, I feel the renewed spark, to come back to more art every day... I feel great change is before me. I see the magic wand, a star, pointing to somewhere, pointing to something..that perhaps the fairies will light up for me this month....
Friday, April 13, 2012
When I first began this blog by doing the everyday challenge I benefitted greatly. I have found that one of the most important things to do regarding having an art practice is simply to show up.
Years ago I had the chance to do a residency at The Vermont Studio Center. Visiting artists came, and one of them talked about a meditation he did before working in the studio. I am paraphrasing here, and perhaps not remembering everything accurately, but the gist of it was as follows: You come to the studio with your mind and you begin to work. During the process of calming your
mind,and noticing what is going on in there, you ask for the distractions to leave the room. Eventually you leave the room.
I think the visiting artist was quoting Rothko or some other artist's practice. I have done meditation for a long time, but what stayed with me was the image of the artist leaving the room and the doing of art remaining. I think perhaps too, this could also be a testament to letting go of the ego, and how an artist's ego can get in the way of doing art. I myself have been a perfectionist and have felt like if I can't get the quality time I need in then it was not worth doing it. This would paralyze me and in the end was very self-defeating. It is more beneficial to come into a practice, let go of expectations and see what comes up. It is important to remember that you are not going to make amazing works of art every time you come to the studio. But just by showing up, you are giving yourself a gift.
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
I noticed how much time I spend in the kitchen during some spring cleaning over the weekend. When I had a moment last night, I decided to plop myself down on a stool and draw whatever caught my eye. As soon as I saw my jar of spoons, ladels, spatulas, etc. I thought it was like a bouquet..and it kept me interested while drawing..unfortunately I had to stop before I was done, but another thought I had yesterday morning was how I would like to get back to a daily practice, similar to meditation, with my drawings..and how even just a 5 minute sketch, if done daily, could help my mind relax and help me connect. Maybe I'll draw my kitchen bouquet again sometime..it definitely speaks to me!
Thursday, April 5, 2012
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Grabbed my daughter's crayon pencils last night and drew this. Often I hear songs in my head. Last night I kept hearing "Uh Oh, it's Magic.." by the Cars. Sometimes the material I draw with gives me a message too. When done, there I was, staring at the text on the crayon.."True to Life". So there you go everyone. My interpretation of this drawing is...(drumroll please...) Magic is part of life. Yes.