Bone to Stone

I've been among the missing for months and months. Sorry. I was in a funk and had to work it through before I could take myself seriously again. Thankfully, the Universe has seen fit to get me involved with a new group of women artists which has stimulated my creativity in other ways than my normal, tried and true methods. For that I am deeply grateful. Today's post is one of the projects prompted by this group. It promises to be a very challenging and interesting year. Follow, if you wish.

Peace, Barb

Dem Bones, ©2014

instantiate • impermanence to permanence • transitory to lasting • flesh to stone

subject to origination, subject to cessation • gratitude to Buddha

singular state of everlasting • transitory state of not enduring

circular return • only state of permanence is state of impermanence 

BLD

It has been months since I've posted and as a result I am sure I have lost any followers I might have had until now. Discipline in regular postings is not my gift, I'm afraid. Having said that, I give you my activity of the past month. The actual assemblage took a bit over a week of morning to nighttime work. The fabric, all silks, gave me fits. It was the hardest set I've ever put together. I'm not complaining, just stating the truth. It kind of surprised me since the last 4 weren't that challenging, or perhaps memory is failing me…a distinct possibility!

The imagery was created from an iPad drawing and a photograph. The final image was finished in Photoshop and the wonderful folks at Spoonflower.com printed it on silk for me.

To the left is a closeup of the deacon's stole and below is the priest's stole.
You can see it in action on my husband below in the shot of him preaching on Easter morning.

Here he is modeling the chasuble. And finally, the lectern hanging.

That's it for now, folks. I will be posting from time to time, as the Spirit moves. For now I am returning to the studio and painting.

Peace,
Barbarb

After much adventure, a machine breaking and needing replacement, and a good bit of sweat, the blue set made its debut today. I am taking a break now for the holidays. 

Peace, Barb

I've been spending a bit of time in the studio trying to let myself be less 'tight' in my work. I have a tendency to get into detail, all-consuming, uptight detail. I've found that a tacky shellac burn can help me break away from that along with further work with layers.

Sacred Geometry Dance, 2013

The jury is out on this process so far.

I love the process, not completely sure I'm ready to jump whole hog into this technique yet with my larger pieces.

Message from the Future, 2013

Fear is the only thing we have to fear.

Apparently my struggle is learning to let go of fear.

Peace, BLD

(These are iPhone photos, therefore not high quality - again with the letting go of tightness)

Yes, it's been months. I'm not too good at this blog thing, am I? Oh well, it is what it is and I am what I am.

I promised photos for those of you interested in my last large sewing project and here they are. I've been working on vestments for my husband's church. The all season green set is the first in line and was used today for the first time.

The image was created on the iPad, finalized in Photoshop, and printed on silk by Spoonflower.com. (a site I highly recommend to my creative sewing friends)

I found the background green on an English site, the quality is amazing. The rest of the fabrics are dupoini silks and they just about glow.

My next challenge is an Advent set, by Advent. Okay, less than 4 weeks away. I'm not sure I can pull this one off, but I will give it my best try. I'm waiting for a fabric sample in the mail before I commit to design and am hoping to get that far by the end of this coming week.

There has been less studio time due to this project and also due to a short trip to Tennessee for our daughter's Halloween party. (Yes, there was a good bit of sewing involved there also!)

I close here and will continue this as the sets come through.

Peace,

BLD

(I took this from the wrong side of the altar and didn't think about it being backwards until I got home and processed it. Oops)

Weeee!

staircase goddess perch

sunset window crossbar realm 

weeeee! winged nike

BLD

August 25, 2013

Sometimes I despair...

When I was a young child, perhaps 4 years of age, I purposely killed an ant just to do it. To this day, almost 60 years later, I carry guilt over that senseless act.

Sometimes I despair for humanity and the earth.

I believe in corporate responsibility and as a member of society at large I have to take responsibility for my part in all wrongs; slavery, greed, theft, genocide, discrimination, pollution, over consumption, etc.  No, I didn't own slaves, nor have I ever approved of such practices, but as a descendant of the human race, I can't claim total innocence either. That goes for every other inhumane act perpetuated on another member of our species or on those animal and insect members of the universe that we share.

I would also apply this to any religious affiliation which I have held or continue to hold in my lifetime. Those of us who believe that our particular flavor of religion, or system of belief, is all right and all perfect are all wrong. The one thing I have learned as I age, is that the more I learn, the less I know.  I know that I cannot explain the universe, I cannot explain why the sky is blue, and I cannot explain why children continue to starve in a world capable of feeding them. I cannot explain a world where profit and greed seem to outweigh the rights of the poor and the hungry.

At these times I have to look to the little things for reassurance that all is well with life. Bees. We seem, in this country, to have declared war upon these tiny workers for the plant world while ignoring the fact that without them our entire food chain will collapse.

When I returned from a long, unplanned time away from home my backyard garden was very overgrown. The broccoli and the bok choi had gone to seed. My husband, much to his credit, had refused to pull the plants since they were covered in thousands of tiny yellow flowers and had twice daily visitors of hundreds of honey bees. Now, we haven't seen honey bees in any numbers for years in our yard and I had grieved for our world at their loss. The sight of hundreds of happy, busy bees swarming our organic blossoms was indeed a sublime joy. It wasn't until the flowering was spent and the bees had moved on that we finally pulled the plants to make room for the next crop.

Such a brief, but blessed visit has renewed my faith in the survival of healthy life -- in spite of our corporate, self-righteous humanity.

BLD

30, 40, 60, 100

Lent, 40 days; School, 100 days

Is there a correlation in that? I may be showing my age, but I don't get this new idea of dressing 5 year olds up like centenarians to recognize the 100th day of school. I kind of took a wee bit of offense at the entire idea of 'cutifying' age. Don't we have enough to put up with?  The whole aging process is kind of ungraceful all by itself, let's not make fun of it by teaching young children to imitate the image. She is 95 years shy of 100.

I am on a rant, I admit it. Sometimes they just pop out and need to be aired. Who knows where they come from. In this case it would appear that it comes from my sensitivity at aging right now. We live in a society that shuts our aged away and dishonors the act of aging by perpetuating youth as long as possible. (Don't believe me? Listen carefully to television advertising.)

So what does this have to do with 40 days of Lent? Good question. Lent for Christ was 40 days of denial, solitude, and wrestling with temptation. Jesus was only 30 years old having such a crisis. Of course, in his day 30 would never equate to 30 today. I don't claim to be a scholar, but I would think that 30 years of life in that world would have given him perhaps our equivalent worldly wisdom of a 50 year old. We may have prolonged lifespans, but I don't think we've done a thing to enhance maturity. As a matter of fact, I think we have paid a price for this by keeping our young people young for too long and have lost respect for the wisdom of our elders. But I digress, and feel my father coming through.

Okay, Christ was 30, I'm in my 60's. what can I learn from imitating his completely unduplicatable time in the desert? I can't imitate his sojourn into the desert, it's not in my life parameters to go out into the wilderness.

Perhaps that's it. I can come as close to realizing what he faced, felt and internalized as my granddaughter did today about being aged by trying to look 100.  It's a very tiny particle of learning that she gleaned from that. I also believe that I shall glean minuscule bits of spirituality by such an imitation. She learned much more about counting to 100 than about the aged. I have learned far more about crankiness and misery from past Lenten experiences than spiritual truths.

Should I not learn more by meditation, prayers and reading, and perhaps a concentrated search for the joy in the universe, than I shall by denial and suffering? Frankly, I believe the Buddhists are right, life is about suffering. Shall I not, instead, search for the happiness in this incarnation and spread the word that Love truly is all you need?

She really did look incredibly adorable as she pranced off to school.  I don't know about you, but I can't prance anymore, it disappeared with age. Here is my small joy for this day in Lent.

BLD

Clouds In My Eyes

And yet another un-timed entry in loose regards to Lenten days...

Today I sat outside and watched the sky. I pretended to be Halle Berry in Their Eyes Were Watching God as she floated in the river. It's not hard to pretend you are floating when your head is a wee bit light to begin with. The sky was a rolling dance of layers, clouds upon clouds, small bits of blue sparkled through the breaks, followed by black shadows fringed in golden glow. It was incredibly comforting to watch clouds slip overhead, some to the east, some seemingly standing still, like so many layers of silk sliding across each other. The sky was doing the dance of seven veils for me. Birds flew, few in number, the breeze was cool but not cold. Solitude under the sky, a moment to just be. My little bit of joy to sparkle on my coil of Lenten musings.

To quote Thich Naht Hahn, "There is a cloud in my cup of tea."

BLD
Not the shot I preferred, but the one iPad suggests. Never let it be said that I don't work in concert with my equipment.

It's Lent.

In a traditional world I would be addressing the traditional practices of sacrifice and introspection. 

Not this year.  I've had a change of heart in regards to Lent and this year my body is treating me so badly that fasting has been imposed without any vote from me. So, I choose to focus on light and peace, to find small bits of joyous comfort around me daily.

This wonderful photograph, shot by a dear friend in the far north, appeared in my path today.  It spoke to me of her, and the memories I have of her and her family. It spoke to me of comfort, silence, solitude, and peace.

So I took artistic license with it and played a wee bit. The result comforts me on many levels. It reminds me that home is where the heart is, that home is your heart. So, thank you, Ann, for sharing this bit of tranquility in a rocky world.  Tomorrow I shall look for another small sign of joy and comfort - my Lenten discipline.

Pink house,

White snow,

Warm shawl of cold.

BLD

(Photo by Ann, manipulation & words, Barb)

It's been a while since my last post.  I have been immersed in wax in my studio unaware of time passing me by in the outside world. It has been bliss.

This past weekend I was blessed by bliss tripled. I attended the Gladdening Light Symposium in Winter Park, FL with Matthew Fox as featured speaker.  It is hard to put into words the experience of this weekend. It goes beyond a mountain top experience, beyond sitting at a master's feet and hearing words of gold, beyond experiential art, music and dance.  Every session was a pearl unexpected, a joy to live, an inspiration to prod.  The featured artists were far more than I expected, especially River Guerguerian. That is an entire separate post, along with a series of photos also. (the photos are on my facebook page and if you are a friend you can see them now)

Lest I rattle on and on, in purple prose, as I have been accused, let me forward to after the closing of the symposium (spiral dance with 140+ souls and Matthew Fox as leader) to our downtown experience. My fellow artist and friend with whom I was traveling found an exhibit of John Lennon prints that was only in Winter Park for 3 days and was closing that evening. No question that we were going. While there another artist, a new friend with whom I intend to bond deeply in the future, noticed a young couple among the gallery waltzers. She approached and received permission to shoot portraits of them as they 'spectated.'  It is over this weekend that my iphone has turned out to be my gem of a camera. I had no big equipment with me, she did, this other artist. So, she shot big, I shot iphone. The portraits are in process, but to the left you will find one sample to give you a taste of the flavor of the magic this weekend was.  I call this series "All You Need" and look forward to printing them soon. I expect to have five in the final series.

This three day span confirmed for me that magic exists, everywhere. All we have to do is look, listen, and feel with our hearts. Seeing the magic and gentle spirit in this young couple also affirms for me that there is hope for this world, for my grandchildren and their grandchildren.

All we need is love, compassion and awe.

Peace, 
Barb

Thank you, Jim.

Not long ago there was a storm. This storm was called Sandy. Sandy blew into town and with her took all of these two children's toys, and everything else they owned. 

Toys are vital to children. They are their work tools, their learning devices, their companions in the journey of childhood, the comfort that only an imaginary creation can give.

Since these are particularly special children to me, I felt called to create two toys for them for Christmas this year. This was not a terribly hard task, I've been sewing for over 40 years and have raised two daughters. Never having been rich, we had many a home-made Christmas, so I have had my share of toy creation. 


When I began to dig for resources up popped a partially finished Raggedy Ann doll, apparently abandoned by myself some time past. So, for the little girl, I decided to finish and personalize her. It is my old-fashioned belief that every little girl needs a Raggedy Ann to share her secrets and troubles. I had one, my sister stole her. I made them for my daughters and then again for my sister as a grown up. I have made them for my grandchildren, one Ann and one Andy.  As my granddaughter wisely observed, Raggedy is much easier to sleep with than Barbie.  I just don't see Barbie or Bratz as being sympathetic or good overnight friends who can share dreams and chase away nightmares. For these jobs, Raggedy is unsurpassed. 

I completed Raggedy with little difficulty, so I made her a quilt to keep her warm in her journey north. Then I turned my attention to the next project.

My heart told me to make a teddy bear. He's a 6 year old boy. What 6 year old child can't use a fuzzy companion to accompany him through the changes he will be facing with home and storm after-effects? 


Okay, so I got a little over-confident. I don't use patterns all of the time, especially when creating animals or puppets. So, I bravely marched into my sewing room and picked up the delicious, mink-like, brown faux fur that had simply jumped into my cart when I was at Joanne's. Then I turned my eyes upward and said, "Okay, Jim Henson, if you are hanging around I could use some inspiration to create a wonderful creature for Tyler."

Be careful what you ask for. 

I tore its face off twice, all the while feeling it was going in the right direction. I spent two days hunched over the sewing machine, fur flying. Yes, it really was flying. When I finished I looked at what had been born and said "huh?" 

I went as far as to send a photo to my toughest critic, my youngest daughter, and ask if this particular creation should be tossed and replaced by a store bought variety. This guy was a strange animal. He really does resemble a muppet.


Her response, which I shall forever treasure was, "Mom, you made an aardvark. Send it."

An aardvark? I didn't even remember looking at a photo of an aardvark, ever. So, I promptly googled aardvark images and, lo and behold, he was an aardvark. So off he went in the mail, appropriately adorned in blue ribbon, with Raggedy to hopefully be received with a loving and imaginative heart. I think my animal creation days may be behind me, not dolls, ever, but animals, maybe. 

If I do venture down that lane again, I will at least, be a bit more explicit when I ask for Master Jim's guidance. For now my sewing machine is resting under the guise of being broken. It quit the day after the aardvark was born. 

Happy New Year - BLD

Blue, blue, blue

Through the atmosphere 

a golden green mosaic

heaven's looking glass

BLD, Nov. 3, 2012

Malachite & Gold

feat•her•ed nes•ters,

lime and but•ter pas de deux

hea•ven kissed the air

BLD

Dance

Dance.

si~lent chor~us roar,

twirl on tether~ed mark,

shoot with stars a~bove,

dance, heart, dance.

– B

Storm of the Heart

storm of the heart;

sweeping the shores bare,

unburying bones

relegated to memory,

raising shards to pierce,

webs of weed to tangle,

never predicted,

usually unexpected,

frequently incapacitating,

always cleansing.

- B

Geo Heart 73012,© BLD

Another in my sacred geometry explorations. I'm beginning a heart series. My gallery website should be up in about 24 hours and I'll begin adding some of these to it. This is going to be a limited edition at 11x14" dimensions.

Peace, B

Sweet Potatoes and Country Roads

Today I want to talk about vegetables and country roads.  


The kale, asparagus, and onion above are destined to be part of our stir-fry this evening. We are on a new life style eating regimen. I hesitate to call it a diet, as diet implies an end. This is a life-style, and like many of the country roads I've been on recently, there is seemingly no end.  


Age forces one to reevaluate one's habits and health and, as such, one's eating traditions. The fact that they are all related evades most people. Who would think that that soda one drinks might leech calcium from one's bones, or that perhaps you can't really process dairy well but never put that weight gain down to that being the cause. It's amazing what you learn when you really begin to examine the web we weave as humans.  


Changing food habits is quite challenging and affects everyone in your immediate world.  It forces others to consider what and what not you can consume when they entertain. It forces you, the devotee, to make difficult choices when faced with temptation. After all, it's only one glass of wine, or one brownie, or just one scoop of ice cream.


The thing is, it is all part of the larger picture that I seem to be going on and on about lately. We are but part of a larger force, humanity. While I am one person, I am part of a family, a community, a state, a nation, and a larger world. If I believe in a higher power, don't I owe it to myself and my world to be the strongest human I can be? When you come down to it, don't each of us owe to the rest of the world, our care, love, support, generosity and best person possible?


Ah, but I ramble. We spent a long afternoon in the car riding through the country. We were looking at properties, not for a specific reason, but to research. The weaving and winding of mountain roads are like the vines of my sweet potatoes as they attempt to overtake my garden with their wandering. Like the ties that bind, the asphalt and dirt by-ways connect the rural to the city, the bumpkin to the sofisticate. The roads connect us, perhaps all roads do lead to Rome. . . hm, or is that Home?


Or could it be that sweet potatoes are taking over my carb deprived mind?


Peace, B

Canaries in the Coal Mine

Newsflash:

There is a world wide helium shortage.

What?

So what. Not earth-shaking.

Why? Apparently helium is a by-product of fuel used in heat during the winter. The past winter wasn't terribly cold, therefore the fuel use was way down. This created a shortage of helium, and, resultantly a triple price increase.

Okay, big deal, a balloon now costs $3 instead of $1.

We bought two.

We held a small birthday party yesterday for one of my daughters.  It was a lovely event, Paris themed. The colors were black and pink, the food was paleo diet approved, and was amazing.  

The sun burst one balloon before anyone arrived. (Note to self: never buy a black helium balloon for outdoors in the summer sun). It was rather ironic though, it said "Happy Birthday...Blah, Blah, Blah!"                                                   

The paleo food is a result of the fact that four of us in the family are on this life style change for health reasons. It is a huge challenge for a group that is used to cooking incredible food with high quality ingredients. My eldest did it with style!  Her kitchen has basically become a science lab with jars of fermenting vegetables and organic produce. This kind of living comes with a price, many hours of kitchen work and dedication to research and preparation.  I admire her focus and research for her family's health and well-being. I am learning lots of new skills for my kitchen. But that is another day, another blog.

On with party and canaries... 

Here we have the lovely cupcakes for dessert. The pink frosted cupcakes are standard chocolate cupcakes filled with a cream cheese filling and chocolate chips. The top ones are paleo approved, zucchini made with coconut flour and topped with a cashew and xylitol frosting. They were truly wonderful, not too sweet and very satisfying. 

All this frivolity revolved around a wonderful afternoon in the pool. The weather was perfect and the rain clouds skirted by us and never exploded.  

The Eiffel Tower stood proudly on the table and provided a place for the French stickers from the cupcakes to reside once their eatable stands had been consumed.  Meanwhile the black balloon hung in the breeze reminding me of the short life of the helium that filled it.

$3.00, up in the air, or $3.00 sacrificed to the altar of irony. It wasn't lost on us at all. The thought of the helium shortage though, another story.

Warm winters, extreme summers, lack of small things we have grown to expect: helium, vegetables, un-chemically treated mattresses, safe drinking water.  It's a chain; a living, breathing, damageable chain.  It's the big picture, made up of all the tiny pictures.  

Families, friends, parties, everyday shopping for resources...stop and listen, please. 

Watch, because the canaries are dying at the corner of our eyes.

Peace, B

*In gratitude to Rachel Carson for her book Silent Spring, published 50 years ago this week. I read it in the mid-60s and it opened my eyes as much then as it could now. I think it's time to revisit the publication.