'ing'-ing

 · indulging in dainties

 · informing the chicks not to mess with my table arrangements

 · mowing the lawn

 · dreaming of the ocean

· listening to the honeybees

· enjoying the lushness of my dyeing garden

· spotting bumblebees under the lee of flowers

 · smelling roses after rain

· finding topsyturvydoms in raindrops

· dwelling on this prayer:

Gratitude to the Great Sky who holds billions of stars -


and goes yet beyond that -
 

beyond all powers, and thoughts and yet is within us -


Grandfather Space.


The Mind is his Wife.

Gary Snyder

(After a Mohawk prayer)

Starwalking: Shamanic Practices for Traveling into the Night Sky

the art of achieving stillness

'I feel that art has something to do with achievement of stillness in the midst of chaos. A stillness which characterizes prayer, too, and the eye of the storm. I think that art has something to do with an arrest of attention in the midst of distraction.' 

- Saul Bellow
 

I've been contemplating this quote lately. It summons up with so few, well-chosen words, something, that is very hard to describe.: The art of making art. - Or is he - more exactly - describing what happens before you actually make the art? Is this stillness, the prayer and the attention, what it takes  - requires - to lead you to that magical place, where you can meet the muse and be granted inspiration?

I also find, that it describes what happens, when you study Nature, and everything that is living around us. When you pay attention to how twilight enhances the blues, when you notice how the light shines through a leaf, and when you become aware of how leaves divides and arranges the light into beams - then it can happen! The stillness and the attention combines - the prayer evolves as if by itself. Maybe not in words, but in the feeling of deep gratitude and healing. Obviously, this is the way to inspiration for many a poet and artist. I'm not an artist, though, but still I sense the muse whispering in my ear, showering me in inspiration. This is the embrace of Mother Nature, for which I am both humble and joyous.

some thoughts about being creative

Over the years, I've found that creating, being creative, is almost as essential to me as eating. Crafting, or even making some sort of art - the state of being in contact with the Source of Ideas. The process of letting the everyday thoughts drift a little away from you, getting into a state of just being present, sensing and feeling. Or letting your intuition meet with nature. I don't know how to explain it, but we've all been in that state at some point, I'm sure.
The process of crafting is where I try to build a bridge between this Source of Ideas and this world. Where I strive to make this thing - a water colour painting or a knitted scarf, it doesn't matter - but what matters is to make the 'idea' become real and palpable - to make the idea come alive.

The thing is, I often find it hard to find the time to make these 'creations' happen. A full time job, a half time study, three kids and a husband - not to mention sheep, cats, chickens, a dog and a big (overgrown) garden. Oh, and a very old house very much in need of maintenance and renovation. (Phew, how did all those things enter my life..). I'm not complaining, just trying to summon up, and I'm sure a lot of people have a much longer list than I do. So, how to make room for being creative, crafting, making stuff, wandering the paths of inspiration and joyful ideas. Well, thats just the thing, isn't it; there's no answer to that. No easy way of fixing it (unless one wants to get rid of all of the above mentioned people, animals and stuff - and I sure don't) - so I guess the solution (for me) is to make it flow just a little bit more into the everyday. Making room for it somehow - and being grateful when I succeed.

With this in mind, I've gifted myself a Hahnemühle sketch book. Perhaps a creative 'diary' can be a sort of channel for making the crafting time flow just a tad more in my direction.

Here is a couple of clutches I did manage to finish today. Even though it's a fairly simple project, it did take some time, but I'm happy with the result.

I used a pattern from the book Bend-The-Rules Sewing by Amy Karol. The fabric is natural dyed, reused linen, and the buttons I made from a branch of laburnum. The embroidery on the backsides are inspired by the buttons; laburnum seed pods - and leaves. A simple free hand, primitive sort of embroidery using this embroidery yarn.

Looks like the other clutch, but this one has a natural dyed lining, and I'm so in love with the greys achieved with natural dyes. They are somehow so much more 'alive' than greys from chemical dyes.

kick-start-ing

It's been quite some time since I wrote a post here. Right in the middle of Poppytalks colour week something happened. One of my kids went safe and sound to bed the night of the pink, and woke up in the early morning - very sick. We had some hard months back then, lots of anxiety, frustration, being in hospital with one child while trying to take care of the others. Finally getting an diagnosis, coping with that, and facing a long period with heavy medication. Dealing with the fact that in order to make your child well again, you have to poison her. We're still waiting for her total recovery, but she's ... well, if not actually better or well, she's being damn strong and absolutely wonderful.

I've always been grateful for my children being well, healthy, safe and sound. I think I've been aware of the fact that being able to feed my children plenty of fresh, healthy organic food every day and clothe them, to live in a democratic country, to live in a part of the world where natural disasters are extremely rare and where education is for everybody and for free - is both a rare and a precious thing. Still, an experience like this, well, it simply gives gratefulness a new meaning altogether.

I found that having a sick child somehow 'draws' energy like nothing else. Hence the long blog break. It also clarified what's important to me. I already knew, but I suppose being reminded of the really important things in life is also something to be grateful for - especially when the story has an happy end. Like I know ours will have.

 Life hasn't been all about sickness and misery, she's been up and about for quite some time now, but we've been enjoying life, each others and the summer holidays. But as life is getting back to normal, I thought I'd better kick start this blog before it's too late.

If I think too much about what to blog about, I'm never getting at it. (I can proof it, you know!) - So without further ado: Last night I made supper and put it in a basket. Put the children and the dog in the car and drove to a nearby lake where we enjoyed the food, played in the water ...

... made a bit of yarn ...

... and made a mental note to self about doing this more often. No complicated picnic baskets, no getting elaborate about stuff or going to fancy places. Simply: food in basket, find a place in nature nearby and enjoy ourselves!

Another thing to do more often is to sit down for a creative moment, inspired by nature and the moment. By myself or with one or more children. When - obviously - one has something else to do. Like laundry, cleaning, tidying, well the never ending usual stuff. One has to distinguish between what's important and what can wait. In this case the latter can definitely wait!

Today my eldest daughter and I had a moment like that, sitting quietly outside, drawing and painting some of the edible flowers from the garden.

Moments like these are so precious - and luckily a kind of moments that we can make happen.

Make this night loveable

I was minding my own business. Feeding the sheep, fetching hay in the shed, carrying it through the garden. The usual stuff. But I had this uncanny feeling of being watched. There was nobody else but me around, the only sounds was my footsteps. But still ...

Instinctively I stopped and gazed up in the sky. Instantly my eyes met with the one watching me. Oh, it was Her, the Moon!

 

Make this night loveable,
Moon, and with eye single
Looking down from up there
Bless me, One especial
And friends everywhere.

With a cloudless brightness
Surround our absences;
Innocent be our sleeps,
Watched by great still spaces,
White hills, glittering deeps.

Parted by circumstance,
Grant each your indulgence
That we may meet in dreams
For talk, for dalliance,
By warm hearths, by cool streams.

Shine lest tonight any,
In the dark suddenly,
Wake alone in a bed
To hear his own fury
Wishing his love were dead.

W. H. Auden, 1953

V, from Five Songs

I like this poem, it's so beautiful in the beginning. At the end it is overtaken with melancholy and unhappy love. But that's what the Moon is about, too.

Good Night!

Meanwhile

Uh, oh, well, I just have to jump in. Being away from the blog for so long makes it difficult for me to pick up where I left. I didn't plan to be away for more than three months. (Three??!!) It just happend. In fact, what happend was The Good Life. Apparently The Good Life also is a busy life. But in a good way.

 My life is so full, and I find as I grow older I also find it more beautiful and multifaceted and rich in many ways (not money-wise, though). It's an intense way of living, and I find that one has to be very careful about spending too much time in cyberspace, since it diminishes the feeling of being earth bound (grounded) and also weekens the ability of being present in a mindful way. Anyway, that's how I feel about it. But I think there's still good things to be found in cyberspace, and I'm still gonna blog. Yet in a sporadic and random manner - as usual, right?

King Winter and his lovely Queen are visiting our part of the world, which is quite unusual at this time of the year.

Everything seems a bit more charming when they're around.

And even though it seems almost against the natural laws,  Mother Nature shows her power and presents flowers for Her Majesty to enjoy. And I enjoy my share as well!

 I love my little »secret garden« in the summer, and even if the roses are now covered with snow, there's still some magical about it ...

We've had another very important visitor recently, which I have to share with you. A visit of great importance and swiftness. My youngest lost his first tooth and then she came - late at night when everybody was asleep - the toothfairy. I think it's common knowledge that the toothfairy loves little white shining teeth, and that she lives in a very great big castle made of childrens teeth. Every night she flies around and picks up the teeth that children has placed under their pillows. And in return for the teeth that she treasures so much, she gives small gifts of equal value. I think that perhaps she has a good eye to my little one, because when he woke up in the morning he found not only a gift - a doll so he could see what the toothfairy looks like - but in the little bag she carried was ... his own tooth! - He had such a hard time letting go of that tooth, and I think she wanted to acknowledge the fact that he found the strength to give it away. And she'll be rewarded too, because there'll be many more tiny white teeth to be found under his pillow in the next years to come.