Random Saturday Thoughts

view from Cassie's perspective, featuring funky '70s tile kitchen floor

and straight ahead: future dining room gallery wall

February can be a tough month for me. The blahs hit me every year, luckily with each one my toolkit for dealing with them becomes bigger and deeper.

I'd love to create a documentary or something in the style of a silent film.

Someday soon I will get on a plane because I want to go places.

The dog is making a "nest" with the blankets on my bed right now to find a perfect sleep position.

The house is a mess. It's serving me less and less that way.

There are plenty of things I'd rather do than clean.

But the dirtier the house, the smaller that list of things get.

I'd like to practice painting faces and figures. Maybe one a week?

When I was a kid I used to draw all the time, copying other photos or images. I could do that again now just to practice.

I might be more resilient than I think I am.

We're looking at purchasing an art hanging system to create a gallery wall in our dining room. It would house revolving exhibits, and maybe a play space for temporary vignettes. I can't wait.

I'd like to learn how to use the manual options on my point & shoot. Maybe when I clean I'll find my camera's user manual. That would help.

I'm considering writing a series of memoir-like pieces in the form of vignettes, snapshots or poems. I think it would be fun.

I love reading children's books about writing and art. They're usually much less intimidating than those written for adults.

One of the favourite corners of my home is my library nook, the one with the big round cushion with pompoms that I can sit on when I browse my favourite books. I could do a blog series on corners of my home - but only once I've cleaned it.

I think I've just about exhausted the thoughts I wanted to share here. It's time to start a load of laundry. Or write a vignette.

Art-making Mantra #2: Can't Be Too Precious

I spent some time at the art table yesterday and have a few new pieces in the works:

work in progress #1 (10x10 on canvas)

working title: raining hearts

It's an ongoing challenge for me to leave a piece unfinished at the end of a painting session and pick it back up again. Afraid of ruining a good thing, works in progress tend to stay shelved for months before they see the light again. Especially if I like what I have.

work in progress #2 (12x12 on cardboard)

I like the movement in this one, but I'm not sure where to go with it. Irony?

Enter Stephanie's art-making mantra #2: Can't be too precious.

(I credit my abstract painting teacher Beulah McLellan for this one!)

I can't let an unfinished piece become so precious that I won't touch it for fear of losing what I have. I mean, if it's unfinished I have to do something right? It's a matter of trusting the process (art-making mantra #3 perhaps?).

So today I will trust, pick up my two pieces and see what comes.

Wish me luck!

Less Pushing, More Waiting

snow shadows no. 3

“When we know the seasons of things, we can feel their timing, their readiness. There is less pushing, more waiting to see what is necessary.”

~ Wayne Muller, Sabbath, Restoring the Sacred Rhythm of Rest

Last year I rejoiced in creative highs, produced more art than I'd ever produced and let the extrovert in me soar. I felt growing confidence in my artistic abilities, was chest-deep in active pursuit of goals and experiences, and pretty damn proud of myself for achieving them.

It was downright exhilarating.

Wonderful as they were (and they truly were!), these creative pursuits came at a cost of other important life goals of mine that involve nurturing friendships, hearth & home, and my connection to the Spiritual.

So I decided to slow down and soften my grip.

Today, with the exception of one previous commitment, I have no hard set goals in sight. On some days it feels disorienting to my ever project-planning left brain, but one day at a time, I experiment by countering my instinct to continuously strive with intentional pause, choosing to put urgency aside in favour of languid moments of being.

There's a lot less pushing, and lot more waiting to see what is necessary.

Midwinter Play

view from the corner table @ Credible Edibles café

(we kicked off our extra long weekend with a scrumptious dinner at Credible Edibles)

I'm stepping away from the computer for a few days of rest, live music and hopefully some snowshoeing in the woods with my hubby. It's time for a bit of midwinter play.

I'll see you on the flip side.

~~~

What do you do to break up the winter?

Hushed, Solemn

[  insert the picture of snow falling under the light

of a street lamp I would have taken had my batteries

not died the instant I took out my camera  ]

"The cold was our pride, the snow was our beauty. It fell and fell, lacing day and night together in a milky haze, making everything quieter as it fell, so that winter seemed to partake of religion in a way no other season did, hushed, solemn."

~ Patricia Hampl

 We just got back from a walk. The snow is beautiful. Hushed, solemn.