6 Word Wonders!

Mother has sent me an article- I got it in the mail Saturday, which actually didn't make it out of the mail box until Sunday- about describing your life in 6 words.  And that has inspired me to play a game, in which I've been back-burner thinking about it ever since.  In the article it had the burbs of various people- celebrities and regular folks- and I thought it was very curious what they defined their lives by: appearance, what they did or didn't do, how they felt at the moment, accomplishments, goals, emotions....etc.  Good, good brain candy.

This morning, at not-quite-3am (I have been keeping Martha-Stewart hours, but my brain functions at its absolute best in the very early morning.  Then we cruise control through the rest of the day...and today I have to teach teachers, so I must go get that ready in a moment....) anyway, this morning I woke up trying to decide if I wanted to get up and work or try for some more sleep.  I played with the 6 word idea thinking I would doze off- but then I created a 6 word epitaph for myself that I just *had* to share on facebook.  (Why? because facebook gives me the illusion that people listen to me, and sometimes I make them smile).  So my six word epitaph for today was:   Sorry, can't die now, still busy.   (I was going to say 'to busy' but then couldn't remember if it should be 'to' or 'too' and didn't want to flaunt bad writing on my status.  Casey- help me out here- I can never, ever remember which 2 to use when.... and you are the queen of English).

While the epitaph is true (and why, along with excellent genes, I will live to 100+), it is not how I define my whole life, just this minute.  I think what I am going to do is to keep this idea in mind and compose these little lives as I go along- kind of a fun mind-game to keep me entertained.

My favorite epitaph from a book was 6 words:  "loved to much, tried to hard"  which was actually the epitaph for a dog, and I can't remember the books name except it was set in Nova Scotia, delt with the history of an immigrant seafaring family  in the 1900's, and was slightly grim- and I cried buckets when the dog died.  Does it to me every time.

So, some of my 6 word possibilities:

'Still haven't paid off student loans'

'Imagination is her source of creation'

'Curious mind, keeping her eyes peeled'  (the family will know that 'keep your eyes peeled' is something we were always taught to do)

'Quiet on the outside, laughing within'

'Loved old stuff, hated to dust'  (except I like to dust- just haven't the time for it)

'Ate everything except chittlins and jello'   (truth) 

This is so much fun to play with!  I'm going to use it with my teachers this morning...and students...and I want to hear everyone elses 6 words...how fun that would be to collect.  And then, find an image for the statement...I feel an art project idea coming on...serious, sad, funny, wise, wishful, despondent...so many possibilities

'But first, I have to work'

'work is play, I'm so lucky'

.

Worlds

"Every Spirit builds itself a house; and beyond its house, a world; and beyond its world a heaven.  Know then that the world exists for you: build, therefore, your own world."-  Ralph Waldo Emmerson.

I found this quote on facebook this morning, posted by an old friend Susan Sims, who I have not seen in forever but who keeps close on facebook.  (I love facebook by the way- it is the perfect social device for us introverts who like to read- and occasionally type).  Anyway, Susan is a lovely spiritual woman who used to sing with Barbara and Jim back at COS long ago.  This quote caught me unawares- it is new to me- and is feeding my hope/thoughts for this morning.

You see, yesterday was one big disaster~ the husband and I rarely fuss, but when we do we do it up righteously (and that is ok and healthy- if we didn't fuss, there would be things-beyond-fixing).  It was mainly one of my major meltdowns over a combination of work/time/space/money/freedom and our rather dismal budget  (don't even ask how much is left out of my paycheck each month- if we don't *eat* or buy gas...). Money winds me up like nothing else, and I was hitting the budget wall of 'I work all the time, we don't live extravagantly at all, I pay my bills, don't have any credit cards, we have some serious needs (house repairs, lawnmower, boots-) *and* I am at the top of my career as a professional with multiple degrees that have me in so much dept that....well....let's just say that someday I will be one of the over-educated homeless people selling art on streetcorners....and *still* a 'normal' life is out of reach.'   argh.  Mainly frustrated that no matter how hard I try, however good or slack a job I do, my paycheck remains at the mercy of the state. I was really, really, REALLY wound up.... and just melted down into an inferno of redheaded emotion.  Things calmed down and became more copacetic (a 4 hour nap helped) and then we had auction time, in which I worked on student contacts for NCVPS on my phone (I have finally learned how to use texting correctly), drew about 6 pages in the sketchbook, and read 1 1/2 chapters of homework.  Which was slightly annoying because it is a graduate school text that cost over $100, is paperback and about the size of two thick magazines stacked on top of each other, and is full of huge illustrations, ender pages with only a few sentences on them, and lack of....well, lets just say a book published in 2010 for graduate level students in technology should not have to explain that "email is an electronic means of delivering information between one or more people".  Seriously?  (uhoh...I am detecting some rage simmering up to the surface again).

Whew.  Need to step back and refocus, because I didn't want this to turn into another bonfire.  (which came from the word 'bonefire' by the way- which was the practice of burning the bones of meat-animals in order to dispose of excess bones and, as a side result, generate a deep black soot that is the pigment for the best black inks and paints.  Ivory black is the top of that line- because not just any old bone, but ivory itself was burnt. But I digress.)

Now, back to spirits and houses and worlds and heavens~ wisdom and red glass insulators in the kitchen window.  The insulators came from the auction last night, we collect them in a casual way- clear, aqua, pale green, blue.  I had never seen red ones, but here they were- crafted into candlesticks, which is a good thing/ bad thing.  Good because it trashed their value as collectibles so I acquired them (and something else, which will be another post) for $5.00, bad because I would of preferred them unstuck.  But they are beautiful in the window-  and the justification for raging about the budget then spending $5.00 for pleasure is that....well, I have no real justification for it.  They are beautiful, they feed my spirit, and.... this is what happens.  When I spend money that is out-of-the-budget, it is usually on the curious, the beautiful or something for art...and I do it rarely.  The only other thing we bought last night was some metal for scrap- it's tinker season- so that will turn a bit of a profit.  We spent 15.00 total, and Charles is working the smalls now, so all will be well.

And again, my brain has wandered off my original idea of writing and into the details of the moment.  And rationalization.  Anyway, during our fuss, the manz kept saying that 'all will be well' and I was very uncharacteristically negative, which eventually he got fed up with.  (sometimes realistic is negative, but is there a value in that? not so much).  What this quote this morning reminded me of is that our spirit does create our own reality, our own world- and our heaven or hell.  If my spirit is spinning a world of negativity, anger, and frustration- then I am more likely to keep acting/responding that way, which impacts everything around me, which  ripples out until I have created a bit of hell for everyone in my path.  But if my spirit can be teased into positive thought and action, if I can visualize the light in the window, perhaps I will have the wisdom to realize that things are what I make it- and I *can* choose creative grace.  Just as I can create a bit of hell on earth, I have the power to create a bit of my type of heaven~ and that to has a ripple effect.

At school this past week I have spent allot of time with my space- my classroom/office/storage/closet - and while it is normal to clean between semesters, it puzzled people (students, other teachers, our wonderful custodian) why I was doing so much.  I was even asked if I was leaving or changing rooms.  No, what I was doing- and I do it twice a year, every year, but people forget that- was re-enchanting the room.  Turning the negative mojo that built up in December/early January before testing, to the positive.  Creating order, establishing territory, changing just enough things to make it familiar but still new.  This is important- it reconnects me to the space, it helps the kids who are finished with art for the year separate and move on, and it really does re-enchant it.  It is a use of spirit to build a world that is shared with others, a world where hopefully I can create my own blue heaven.

Of actions and words

There are a few things that I try to avoid discussing with most people, and they include: politics and religion. I avoid these because I have my own views, which I happily keep to myself as...well...they are different from most of those who voice-their-views constantly.  Which is their right and privilege, but it is also my right and privilege not to listen.  And to think that in a way, it is bad manners in certain circumstances.  For being so liberal and casual, I'm all about manners.  

But today I am going to beak my rule and explain why I put the 'Stop Sopa' sign up on the blog.  Thing is, when asked to identify myself politically, I always respond with anarchist.  Not as in the running around wildly burning and looting punk-rock anarchist that is portrayed by the media, but as in the viewpoint that anarchy is the result of ultimate freedom though practicing personal responsibility.  This includes taking care of myself as an individual, and helping others because I *choose* to, am not made to.  This also includes the freedom to make my own choices, accept the consequences of those choices good or ill without expecting anyone else to solve my problems.  Unless they volunteer to.  This political system would never work in reality, because there are always people who are not responsible, who whine when stupid actions end in stupid results, who blame everything and everyone without taking any positive action to correct the situation.  

Now, in context with the stop Sopa movement, I *do* speak up when I feel that my actions are important and will make people think.  SOPA is something that on the surface may sound like a good thing- stop online piracy act- but at the moment it is to broad.  Like trying to water a flowerpot with a river- to much of something necessary is as bad as to little.  As an artist and educator, I am aware of copy write issues and how they impact mass media, money and creators rights to make money off their works.  However, I also believe in the freedom to share all information- creative and otherwise- in the lovely collective conscious of the web.  I want *everyone* to be able to find/use/share without payment or penalty- because otherwise a price is put on knowledge/art/information that will instantly create an elitist grouping- those who can afford it, those who cannot.  The mirror of history shows us how well that idea worked in the middle ages (otherwise known as the 'dark ages') because literacy was limited to only those in the Church, masons, and very few others.  Even the nobility could not read or write for the most part........when you think of it in this matter, it becomes a bit tense.  Seriously, take your average teenager.  If they have to make the choice to shell out money for: a- a look at the CNN website (Time-Warner owns it, and supports SOPA), b- each reference site that they need for a class project (because SOPA would effectively wipe out lots of Wikipedia) or c- download a hot song to their ipod......guess which one most of them will choose?   For the most part- the art, the social, the videos,  the things that they identify with is what money will be spent upon while knowledge falls upon the back burner~    Money really does change everything.

Basically, as I told the kids, it comes to a point where you have to decide what kind of world you want to live in.  If you choose to be responsible and take action on matters- no matter how small the action, no matter if it is only things that matter to you- then you are walking in your right direction.  You are at least trying to have a say in it- but if you don't, well then, you are just a passenger on the bus.

Hellos Crow!

Crow bag- in progress.

Winter is the time for sewing- I'm taking a bit of a break from drawing in my sketchbook to return to embroidery.  I haven't embroidered seriously for quite awhile- and I don't count this as serious- but I have always kept sewing.  A few stitches and charms onto my brown backpack (rescued from the lost and found at the end of last year- brand new, one of the sling types, a brand I could never afford).  Lots of little random felt charms (I will post a photo of those at some point, when I found where I stashed them all)- basically the Turkish eyes, apples, hearts. And some practical stuff- a camera holder with a swallow and heart, an eyeglass case, a cell phone holder.  (All of which I can't find now either- even though I used them for a bit~) 

I have loved embroidery since Mother taught me how (another gift I owe her!  She is where I inherited all the art from!) and have always designed my own work- all of which I have (that wasn't given away or sold).  I even have things sewn on tiny scraps of cloth- I was fussed at because they weren't big enough to do anything with- but I have them still. (and still, they remain not big enough to do anything with- and also now to fragile).  I have made crewel embroidery seasons (Mother has those- the fox, rabbit, unicorn and doves), a bright, funky 'club dino' denim jacket I embroidered for Grendel when he was a baby, the huge female figures with pomegranates that I did in college, a white work on the centers of antique doilies with tiny tiny tiny crystal beads and pearls.  But this type is different- although I have done it before- and it is much more like sketching than painting.

Felt is a wonderful thing (as well as being super-trendy at the moment).  It doesn't fray or shoot off loose threads, you can cut it into anyshape and it will hold its edges, you can steam it and it will tighten magically to secure the threads. (have to be careful though, as it can tighten to much and warp).  I have been using just plain old 20 cents a sheet craft felt, and cotton DMC floss (I have a ton of it- there are always bags of it at the auction), some stray buttons and beads.  Like I said, I started with the small charm things, just kind of playing around.  Then I made the apple charm.  Then a larger heart covered in white buttons that I have no idea what to do with- it is to heavy to sew onto anything, but is lovely.  Then the crow- mostly done this past weekend when I was watching 'Rawhide' with the manz.  (There is a lot to be said for old black and white Westerns that include a young Clint Eastwood- bad hair but handsome man).  Anyway- the crow turned out bright and funny and I wanted to do something with it- so I dug out this olive messangerish bag that I've had.  It's the bag  I bought to replace my black MaggieBag, but it was swiftly replaced by my discovery of the brown backpack.  (Stay with me- I know- it's a lot of bags to keep up with- I have a *ton* of bags....but then I settle on one and that is the one I use constantly).  So- I put the crow on it.  And then the heart/sun (I am obsessed with hearts now.  In December it was cut paper snowflakes.  I am regressing to grade school)- I'm not quite sure if I like the heart/sun, but it is only in progress and headed for more rays and swirls.  There will be tree branches as well- maybe leaves, maybe not.  It's just growing, but it is such fun to work quickly with felt, and bright colors, loose stitches and shiny stuff.  I don't have to think or concentrate, I just sew- and watch Mr. Eastwood save the day.

sorry~

A Tale of Two Boots

Mr. Owens Boots

Let me tell you about Mr. Owens~ or rather, let's look at his boots- they tell the story by themselves.  Mr. Owens~ also known as the manz, the husband and various other things, but always Mr. Owens- is a man of steady tastes.  He likes the practical, sensible and sturdy- the known and familiar, the comforting.  His chair, his wife, netflix, chocolate (no fancy or dark chocolate- plain is the best), icecream (again, plain chocolate please), cookies (what flavor? you guessed it! plain chocolate- although store bought branches out to oreos. Not oreo-oreos, but Walmart oreos, and never a double stuff in sight), cheese (American and square), bread (white), hotdogs (beef), classic rock, his stripy afghan, Turrello, home and his boots.

The boots are a measure of loyalty- he has a specific favorite type that is hard to find but once acquired is worn to beyond-the-bone (as in the picture above). It is time for a new pair (you think?) but that is not as easy as it may look- he got a pair for Christmas, but they were waterproof so back they went.  (Waterproof apparently doesn't let your feet breathe).   So, the requirements for the perfect pair of boots are: tan leather, not suede, light colored soles. 8" uppers, with lace holes not side grommets, not waterproof, no steel-toe, nothing fancy, just good plain boots.  Which are amazingly hard to find- and nothing else will do.  So I am still searching~

But in the meantime, his dedication to his likes is quite comforting.  I never have to worry about him straying, or getting the mid-life wanderlust that so many fall prey to- I am like his boots.  Just the right qualities, just the right fit, comfortable- which is amazing seeing as we are opposites in so many ways.  In thinking of his list above, I am opposite in many ways- I like new foods, adventures, change....but we are exactly the same about boots.  When I find the perfect pair (which are my beloved pink Doc Martins) I wear them exclusively until they fall apart... they are *my* boots and I'll have no other.  Of course they are different (what other woman of my age wears pink combat boots with everything?) and make me stand out from the herd- but they are also stable, comfortable, warm.  Just like my beloved Mr. Owens.

Rose Red

Red roses outside kitchen window at Tanglewood,

early summer.

In the tale of Snow White and Rose Red, I am decidedly Rose Red- for the most part.  The basic story is this:  Once upon a time there were two sisters, Snow White and Rose Red, who lived with their Mother in a cottage in the woods.  The sisters loved each other dearly~ Snow White loved the arts of the hearth and the garden.  Rose Red loved the wildwood, learning the names of the plants and the languages of the creatures.  One winter night a large bear came to the door of the cottage- at first frightened, the sisters listened while the bear explained that it was just looking for warmpth and shelter during the long winter.  They gave it entry, and it settled by the fire the whole winter through.  In the Spring, however, the bear stirred and went off to gaurd his treasure, leaving the sisters behind.   The sisters too ventured into the woods, exploring the world as it awakened again.  On their travels they often encountered a dwarf- not the jolly kind of dwarf, but the lean and cranky kind, obsessed with treasures of the earth.  The dwarf was often in difficulty due to his long beard (which was constantly getting stuck in things) and his unwillingness to set down his treasures long enough to get himself unstuck.  But because the sisters were compassionate as well as practical-sensible, they came to his rescue clipping the beard loose with their scissors.  Then one day, when the dwarf was stuck yet again, the bear appeared.  The dwarf went into a frenzy, trying frantically to convince the bear to eat the sisters instead of him.  The bear, of course, recognized the dwarf as the treasure-thief and whapped him upside the head, killing him quite dead.  Spells were broken, the bear transformed into a prince, and married Snow White.  Sometimes Rose Red gets to marry his brother, sometimes she stays in the cottage in the wood, sometimes she just hangs out forever with random bears.

I am Rose Red, not only because I am red, but because I love the wild wood, the creatures and the plants and knowing the names of everything.  I love to create and collect, and could care less if the yarden is a tangle- thus the final name of our cottage: 'Tanglewood'.  While I do have some domestic capability- I clean, and do laundry when the mood takes me, cooking is the domain of the manz, and I'm not the best housekeeper in the world.  I get distracted by thinking, then I go off to make something, explore something, do something.  Likewise, unlike Snow White, I am not a natural hostess~ despite a stint in "White Gloves and Party Manners" I am often rather awkward socially~ I have to be *doing* something rather than conversation.  I never know where to look otherwise, and am just able to barely manage small talk...but if I am occupied with sketching or embroidery (which is sketching with a needle), I can listen and speak easier and with greater depth.  It frees me somehow.  

My best friend, Melissa, is Snow White.  She is master of cooking and sewing, and can converse naturally and freely with anyone.  She knows the garden, the secrets of the bees and is blessed with magical tomatoes. The language of spices and smells, tastes and the subtle differences in honey~ how to construct a garment from bits of leftover fabric and well-loved clothing.  How to spin and twist yarns together into long bright scarves, how to make monsters and magic from scraps.  The arts of the hearth are hers.

We follow our own archetypes (I've been thinking of archetypes allot lately), and find ourselves in the old stories.  Our questions, our mirror selves- I am not cut out for the roles of traditional fairy-tale princesses, or even Red Riding Hood.  (As Rose Red I would befriend the wolf, even if I came to harm).  I am not the character that ends up with the Prince and the Castle (btw: the other night I had a dream that Barbie was married to Bill Gates.  They lived in the Castle entry to Storybook Forrest in Pa.)  I am the character that stays in the wood, that evolves into what Campbell calls the 'magical helper'- the one who aids the hero towards their goal.  A different kind of mystery.