Sunday evening, I've had a quiet weekend. It has been cold, snow is on the local mountain top. My tender plants are covered with blankets and towels to protect against the frost. Although the day was sunny and bright. Moving quickly I went for a walk, enjoying the bright pink and blue of magnolias and sky. The colors are so bright it hurts to look for long. Blue, the color of my next project. I went to a gem show yesterday and felt a little out of my element. I do not know anything about gems, cuts, rocks or what is precious or not. I just know what I like. Intimidated but not enough to stop me from buying a few things-I just bought things I liked. It doesn't take long to spend money and the bags are SO little! But now I have stones to work with and I am happy.
My flight to another world is over, and it is as if one enters a special world to attend an art retreat. You are spoiled with no worldly cares, food is provided, creativity reigns, and for the most part one is trouble free. Rain drops on my cottage roof lulled me to sleep at night, mist through forest trees was heavy, giant wet snow flakes were a great surprise, my weekend was full of blissful moments. I carried those moments with me into my real world and it was good to remember. Today I remember mossy stairs, leading to covered forest floors damp with wilted flowers beaten by the rain. I remember happy smiles, friendly faces, words of encouragement, kindness and generosity. The beginning of new friendships the anticipation of the future.
I'm still flying high from a great retreat. I loved mixing fabric work with jewelry making and it was fun to have many fabric artists in the class who had the same concerns about metal, hammers and torches that I had. It rained the entire time and even snowed! But being busy indoors with beads, silk thread, crochet hooks, and silver I hardly noticed. It is nice taking a three day class and I really recommend it, one does not feel panic to learn the new technique and there is plenty of time to practice. One great thing about An Artful Journey is that the class rooms are open 24 hours a day. I stayed in my little cottage in the woods, but was only there to sleep. Most of my time was spent in the class room practicing. I was determined to get my project done and I did. Incorporating my precious pink pottery bird, that I found on the beach a few years ago. It was good to give my little bird a home at last.
Waiting, something I'm not good at but am having to do. I'm reminded of it on my walks around the neighborhood and see the signs of spring. Emerson says we need to develop the pace of nature-patience. That is what I'm going to have to practice these next three days as I wait for Thursday to come and with it the start of An Artful Journey. Being surrounded by 80+ creative souls has me psyched. I'm ready to soak up ideas, enthusiasm and happiness. It has been a long grey winter. As I've packed my supplies, gone over my list checked it twice--, I've been filled with gratitude. I feel lucky. I am fortunate to be able to attend something so luxurious in this day and age and I'm going to make the best of it. I hope you all have a good week.
I must admit to not having many of my own ideas these past few months, at least not creative ones. So I've had to borrow from others. Someone I'm inspired by is Lynne Hoppe. You need to check out her blog it is full of wonderful water colors, words of wisdom, and great quotes. Something I saw her do was paint on old book pages, so I decided to try it and I love it. Every night this week when I've come home from work, I've sat down and painted a little lady on an old yellowed page. It is amazing how everything but the process takes over, it becomes rather meditative for me-daily frustrations disappear and all I'm concerned with is the play of the paint on the page. I love the look of water colors but was always afraid to try them thinking one needed to "know" how to paint to use them. I have no idea how to use them, but I'm making a delightful mess of my water color palette, making silly paintings, and getting lost in the process. I think that is what it is all about.
I went for a Sunday walk. It is the first day I've been out in a long time. The second day of spring like weather that has broken the spell of long grey days. I heard birds that sounded like monkeys, I pretended to be on an African safari. Dogs with long pink tongues. My fleece jacket got too hot as I walked in the sun and it felt good to feel sweat roll down my back. My breath got short and I promised to go walking more often. Bees buzzed around blooming plants. Bicycles quietly sneaking up on me and whistling by. The goal of the walk was to get to the yellow tree and oh was it worth the steps! Glorious in its display of blossoms. A bright beacon against a green background it vibrated with color. " IN ALL THINGS OF NATURE THERE IS SOMETHING OF THE MARVELOUS." aristotle
I've really been digging my heels in this winter and not doing much. Having been plagued with depression for many years of my life I'm always on the look out for its return. I don't think that is what is upon me at the moment I just think that the dismal cold days require a lot of energy to function and leave me with little creative energy. It is funny how now I feel as if I'm doing "nothing" if I'm not creating and yet I still get up go to work, shower, do chores around the house, meet with friends more than I ever did during my depressed years. I've enjoyed this "nesting" period but am feeling it coming to a close I'm getting restless for something more. I've been watching "DOWNTON ABBEY" on PBS it is excellent if you like period pieces from the turn of the century, you can watch it here. Also I discovered the dip pen in my journal class and have been using it to scratch entries into my daily journal. Something about the pen and ink changes my handwriting and it leaves a raised impression on the page that I like. I'm going to continue with nesting for the next couple of weeks, until I go to An Artful Journey, I'll use that as my jump start. The photo is a little dark, but is of my desk in the cozy basement where I've spent so much of my time this winter. The Journey is a poem by Mary Oliver one of my favorites, if you've not read it you must!