Surrender to the mess

All those clean, fresh starts had made me forget what it was like, until now, to be messy and honest and out of control. To be real.

Sarah Dessen

Right, so here we are... after two painting sessions and two layers, these are the hot messes that I've created. Layer one, designed to just break-in the white canvas, created with a mixture of dribble and smoosh techniques (technical terms those!) using only warm colours. Layer two - an exercise where we were encouraged to play with our tools, familiarise ourselves with the way the paint moves and make as many and as varied a collection of marks as we could, scrubbing, twirling, dabbing, dragging, stamping, etching... keeping the flow moving, not stepping back to worry about what it looked like overall, not over-thinking, remaining unattached to the outcome and immersed in the process.... Many of these requests harder for me to do than one might expect. The need to "fix" after I stepped back by just whiting it all out with gesso and starting again was the hardest to resist but, in the morning, when I looked at them again, I was so glad that I hadn't. I'm just going to trust it, surrender to the mess and see how it evolves.

I added layer two to my canvases after a particularly horrible day and one of the most dehumanising visa application experiences ever (and believe me, I've had some - I could write an entire book of ways that these places manage to turn it into a torturous art form). I was feeling frustrated, tightly wound and tearful. I thought that I'd probably wait until the next day to catch up on my lesson but when I got in, I changed into comfies, made a cup of tea, grabbed a handful of nuts, turned on some music and gave it a whirl. I can honestly say I've never enjoyed painting more and liked the results less.

There are small bits of each canvas that I love though. Bits that would not have happened if I hadn't given over to the process. Things I would not have discovered about how I love to move paint around with my fingers and about how I like working with those funny little foam brushes and how it gets easier to do when you play the right music and stick with it through the resistant parts. I still look forward to the point when we're encouraged to blend and harmonise composition a bit more and add more light and dark contrast... I'm very pleased there are about 16 layers still to come and most of this will probably be covered up but oh, what a release it provided and how much better I felt afterwards. All that anxiety and anger was just gone: sublimated into painting joy.

I think there's a profound lesson in here somewhere, and it's about more than just painting.

Sea, tea and St Ives

This is what this little jaunt looked like... I think I could live here.

I'm certainly tempted to go back in future for some of this. Inspired by this. And this. And this. It was incredible. SO much art.

And just a short drive away, one of the most breath-taking theatre venues ever.

And if you happen to be in town, I highly recommend the lemon meringue tart and banana&honey&cinnamon breakfast smoothie here (they'll teach you to surf too). And anything, absolutely anything, on the menu here. Just about every place in town (well certainly those we tried) serves wonderful fresh food and has beautiful views.

You know, there's a lot to be said for the barter system - I enjoyed all this and some really good company in exchange for a bit of coaching, some writing and an already-and-unconditionally-given truckload of moral support. I think my lovely friend got the short end of the deal here. But I'm thankful. It was great. And I'm thinking barter may be the way to go... it doesn't feel like work. It feels like love.

Colour week - it's a rainbow 'round here

The true harvest of my life is intangible - a little star dust caught, 

a portion of the rainbow I have clutched.

Henry David Thoreau

(1817-1862)

When I daydream about my perfect home it broadly includes a white, light-drenched space with a small lush garden and an ocean view. More often than not it's decorated with lots of natural materials in light neutrals, accented with rich but subtle colours. Strange then that I find myself living in a city-centre apartment, without even a tiny balcony let alone a garden, a view of a city skyline, not a lot of natural light, and decorated in quite dark neutrals and bright jewel colours. And I'm happy here. What both have in common I guess is that they are calm and peaceful spaces that reflect the things and the people I love. If I were living in my dream home I would have posted whites today. But what I see around me is a rainbow. And living in a rainbow is not such a bad place to be.

~ several years ago now I moved to the Eternal City to live for a few years and whilst there I met a kindred-spirit, someone who showed me the ropes, shared her days with me, and gave me some of my happiest and most enduring memories of the place. I had no idea at the time how profoundly this meeting would impact on my life. She and her husband returned to Canada, I went to France and then came to the UK but we remain friends, joined at the heart across the distance. Joined at the heart I like to believe, like the city where we met, eternally. Even at a distance she enriches my life, loves and supports me unconditionally and gifts me with her thoughtfulness and a warm deep wisdom, always when I need it most.  She has also given me some of the things I treasure most and love to have around my home, including this incredible glass colour wheel, made especially for me. When it catches the light, I think of her and the creativity that runs in her veins and the love that she embodies. And it makes me smile. Thank you E.

~ we've already visited my bookshelves once this week and I return to this one now because it's a rainbow of colour and content. My book collection is vast and eclectic. I love books. I enjoy electronic media but I hope we never ever move away entirely from books made of paper and ink. Books that we hold in our hands, that we keep on shelves, that we revisit like good friends for years and years. Those who love books will get this. Those who don't will not. Let's just leave it at that.

~ last night a friend turned thirty and we celebrated with a party where everyone was required to wear a wacky wig. Fancy dress for heads. It was fun - great fun. This gift bag, hanging on my living room door was waiting to leave for the party... where, like it, there was a swirl of rainbow colour and style. I love to wear a party wig and I think that every opportunity to do so should be taken. Wig-wearing releases the alter-egos of people, usually their bolder, sparklier sides, and I love to observe those at play. Mine was red, very bright red, and curly and big. Very big. I was channelling someone who might have hung out with Dolly Parton in her big hair heyday and it was fab. Perhaps I'll model it for red day of our next colour week.

~ There's something magical about a kaleidoscope, isn't there? I'd like to collect them and so far I have two. More than one is a collection, right? This tiny one, a souvenir from a visit to science museum, offers up a rainbow both inside and out. It always makes me smiley.

~ today's breakfast. Breakfast is my favourite meal of the day to eat out - love it - but I'm not always very good about eating it at home. I know that's not good, so since I've moved I'm trying to make an effort to do so more regularly and one of the ways I find makes it easier for me to stick to this resolution is to make it up on a little tray. This morning I started my day with some red berry tea, cereal with milk and a sparkling blue sky - perfect.

And that rounds up colour week. I've enjoyed having the opportunity to look for the colourful comfort and sparkle in my living space. It's interesting to see one's own world through the lens with this kind of emphasis. It's shown me things and made me think about them as I might not otherwise have done. And it's given me something positive and creative to focus my attention on, which is always a good thing and just what I needed. Like Thoreau, I realise that the true harvest of my life to-date is intangible but that the things that surround me remind me of these, and facilitate the creation of them too - love, friendship, fun, learning, contentment... happiness. A rainbow of beauty and emotion. Thank you to lovely Lisa who initiated and hosted our colour explorations and to everyone who popped by to say hello, and who shared the beauty of colour in their worlds for our enjoyment. It has been a pleasure.

A happy, rainbow-filled weekend to you!

Too soon to dream...

...of picnics?

Probably. But I can't help myself. We've had a few hours of sunshine this week and immediately I begin to think about lying under trees, cloud or star gazing, eating delicious food in the fresh air, in the company of friends - heavenly. Without doubt it's one of the main reasons why I'd like to live in a warmer climate again. 

The gorgeous images above are from a blog called Ruffled and they're actually styled as wedding inspiration - exactly the sort of wedding I'd like to have if I ever married again. Exactly. But it would be just as lovely for a casual summer picnic with friends wouldn't it? It actually reminded me of many a picnic I have had with friends... Oh, I do so love a picnic. Have I mentioned that?

I also love wedding blogs: pretty dresses and shoes, love that's almost tangible, gorgeous parties, creative details... what's not to enjoy? Great inspiration for any occasion and every day, not just weddings. My favourite posts are always the real weddings like these from Green Wedding Shoes.

Marie of Blushing and Sweet has highlighted some lovely places to browse (and that purple petticoat and shoes she's posted nearly made me cry with pleasure - perfect for a wedding or a casual picnic I think!). In addition to those she's recommended, another of my favourites is Snippet and Ink. If you feel like losing yourself in dreamy prettiness for a little while... 

I do.

All wrapped up with a bow...

Christmas – that magic blanket that wraps itself about us, that something so intangible that it is like a fragrance. It may weave a spell of nostalgia. Christmas may be a day of feasting, or of prayer, but always it will be a day of remembrance – a day in which we think of everything we have ever loved.

Augusta E. Rundel

What is Christmas? It is tenderness for the past, courage for the present, hope for the future. It is a fervent wish that every cup may overflow with blessings rich and eternal, and that every path may lead to peace.

Agnes M. Pharo

The joy of brightening other lives, bearing each others' burdens, easing other's loads and supplanting empty hearts and lives with generous gifts becomes for us the magic of Christmas.

W. C. Jones

I wish you shelter from the storm

A cozy fire to keep you warm

But most of all when snowflakes fall

I wish you love

But most of all when snowflakes fall

I wish you love

I wish you love

I wish you love, love, love, love, love

I wish you love

Charles Trenet/Albert A. Beach

So, it's almost here... Christmas. I will be working my last day of the year today, have bid my friends and colleagues farewell as they head to be with their families, distributed my gifts, bought in food supplies, stocked up on movies, and am ready to batten down the hatches. There's an air of hush in the city now and I'm looking forward to a few quiet days.

To you, my blogging lovelies, friends, and family of my heart... for every visit, for every thoughtful word, for every laugh, for every gift of kindness, for sharing, for reaching out, for being there, for being here - thank you.

And however you celebrate it, I wish you and yours a very happy holiday - wrapped with a little sparkle and full to the brim of whatever makes you happiest. Most of all, I wish you love.

I'll see you on the other side...

♥

About everything and nothing at all

I'm swimming around here in a sea of stuff. Not drowning. But alternately treading water and swimming hard. It's keeping me busy.

I had a dream on Sunday night in which I found myself newly alone again (some of these break up dreams are still so vivid and brutally painful) and I was very upset. I decided (in the dream) that I was so sad, I'd take a bath, which always soothes me. I ran the bath and lay back in the water, all the way back. As it closed over my head, everything went quiet, it was peaceful, and I thought that I might just let myself stay there and drown. Yes, I know it's extreme but it seemed a perfectly reasonable reaction, in that way that dream rationale can make the bizarre seem normal and anything feasible. I waited for the water to fill my lungs, I was convinced it was the thing to do. I felt calm. And then I realised that I could breathe underwater. Foiled. So I just lay there for a while, breathing underwater, enjoying the relief of a silent space, and cried. I was crying still when I woke up but the peacefulness was what stayed with me for a while, not the pain. This is progress.

My waking hours are not very peaceful right now. Work is horrid and horribly busy. So not loving it. I don't shy away from hard work but I do shy away from hard people. And I do shy away from hard people controlling my work in a compromising way - to balance their own inadequacies and to compensate for their incompetency. And just because they can. However, my options seem limited. For now. Do I continue to take on the challenge (I'm up to it but it's demoralising and tiring) or do I try to create new options? And, if the latter, where do I find the time to do so? Or do I wait for the Universe to reveal new doors as she usually does, at her own pace? All I know for sure is that change is coming. I feel it in my marrow.

And there's change brewing in other areas of my life too. The signs are there. At the moment it's mostly about a high level of discomfort with where I am rather than a clear idea of where I'm going, and the anxiety and frustration associated with that. For some reason, instead of just waiting patiently for the wheel to turn, as I know it will, or for the answers to float to the surface, I churn and mull and ponder and rail. I'm not good at waiting. Not good at all. And this has been going on for months. I'm struck by the fact that my time is finite and weeks, months, years are passing in a blur. I don't want to waste them. But I don't seem able to still the inner turmoil. Or to strike out in a new direction. Or to identify a new direction to strike out in. So I twirl. On the spot. Dizzy and tired. I said to a friend recently that it feels a bit like I've got myself into the spin cycle of a washing machine. It's not a comfortable place to be. All this thrashing around in a confined space is quite exhausting. I need open waters. Or a metaphorical bath.

It's not all there is. There are moments, whole days occasionally, of relative contentment. Moments of clarity. My natural optimism surfaces and I know it will all be okay. I'm excited by the prospect of change and the twirling seems like fun. But then the spin cycle kicks in again and that inner certainty explodes into a zillion tiny droplets. More questions than answers.

• What do I need?
• What do I want?
• Am I happy?
• Am I unhappy?
• Is happiness a realistic expectation?
• How far away is it?
• Where's the chocolate?
• How do I get there?
• Am I so busy worrying, seeking, looking beyond... that I'm missing the point?
• Shall I have some tea?
• Enough?
• How do I embrace enoughness* completely?
• Aren't those shoes pretty?!
• How do I establish and maintain integrity (my mission for the year) in every cell of my being?
• Why does everything move so quickly?
• Why does everything move so slowly?

I think my dream was suggesting that if I can find a quiet space in my head, I will find peace, those answers. Some answers, at least. And that maybe letting go and even being underwater isn't as fatal an outcome as I might imagine. That I can already breathe there... Perhaps? But it isn't as easy to convince my waking self.

So, in the meantime, I keep swimming.

*I'm reading an excellent book, recommended by my brother, who gets it. Enough by John Naish.

[Flickr credits here. How did I ever process things without Flickr talents to provide my soul's images, I wonder?]

Turquoise dreaming

The greatest achievement was at first and for a time a dream. The oak sleeps in the acorn, the bird waits in the egg, and in the highest vision of the soul a waking angel stirs. 

Dreams are the seedlings of realities.

James Allen

(1864-1912)

Quotation via the incredibly creative and talented Robyn, who is Art Propelled, and mosaic from these Flickr beauties.

Birthday Beauties

Two of my favourite girls in the world both celebrate a Birthday this week... 

my sister

&

my niece

My sister, D, is one of those rare individuals that is as lovely on the outside as she is on the inside. I love this photograph of her, caught in a moment of stillness and contemplation. Although, in this picture you can't see her two most beautiful features: her eyes, which are an unusual green speckled with blue, and shimmer or cloud over like the sky to reflect her moods; and her heart, which is as big and loving as a heart can ever be, and always has been.

As little girls we shared a room and we used to play and fight and talk late into the night. Even then, we were friends as well as sisters. I recall how - on one of the many occasions when I'd been sent to our room to "take a long hard look at myself" - she risked my mother's wrath and climbed through the flowerbed under our bedroom window to deliver fruit and sweets to me via the little pulley contraption that we'd rigged for just such situations. It wasn't about the fruit or the sweets. My mother's discipline routine didn't include denying me food. It was a show of love and solidarity. Pure and simple. She was about four years old.

Over the years we've lived with each other and near each other and on opposite sides of the world but I know that no matter what the physical distance between us, I can always count on her to be there for me. She's loving, loyal and intuitive, and has all the grace and a gift for nurturing that I lack. 

And she's stylish. Seriously stylish. Her home is beautiful - creatively, stylishly beautiful - and D is the only person I would trust without reservation to choose a head-to-toe outfit for me (including all accessories) for absolutely any occasion. It would fit me perfectly and perfectly express me, and still be right on target for trend and occasion. It's a talent. Sister, friend and style guru. Who could ask for more in one person? I can't properly express how much I love her.

Two of the profound joys she has delivered into my life are one of my nephews, and my baby niece, who turns one on Friday. I can't believe that a year has passed since she was born. I am so thankful that I met her when she was tiny and have been able to spend some time with her during this year but also that we can connect via skype in a way that I couldn't when the boys were as little. It allows me to share live moments in a way that distance would otherwise preclude. Those normal, unremarkable moments that are so special nonetheless. When she happily eats her lunch while her mum and I drink tea and chat, or snuggles down with her favourite bunny for a nap, or giggles at the sound of my voice coming out of a picture on the screen... It's not the same as being near her in person, but it's better than nothing. So much better.

She has inherited her mother's sweet temperament, beautiful eyes and golden hair - in fact it is uncanny how like D she is at that age - and I have no doubt that she will grow into a beauty inside and out too. From me, I like to think she inherited a little bit of the wing gene. You can see above that they are still only tiny buds but one day I hope I'll help her learn to fly with them, in that different and special way that aunts can...

Happy Birthday my Beauties! I celebrate that you are part of my life and I wish you love, today and every day. You have mine. Always.

♥
k ~x~ ~o~

The Jewellery Quarter

pavement wisdom

jewellery is not always ornament

True, it's also - and for a long time I guess was primarily - used to express intent, allegiance, membership, ownership, status, wealth, as currency or for protection. It can be functional or symbolic or decorative, or all of these at once. 

Jewellery is not always ornament.

But sometimes that's exactly what it is. Can anyone ever have too many pretty beads I wonder?

If ever you're in the UK and at a loose end, this place is well worth a visit. A fascinating glimpse into the heyday of the industrial era. 

And I discovered this weekend that they serve a lovely cup of tea with homemade scones and strawberry jam in the adjacent café too. Added incentive to visit...

Inner light, floating and flight...

[Flick credits]

Resisting the urge...

...to pack a small bag and run away. Far away.

This beauty would suit my needs perfectly. I've always fancied owning a carpetbag.

This impulse to pack up and escape my life is not unusual for me at this time of year. And the urge to flee is strong.

I enjoy living in a place that offers all four seasons and I embrace the diversity of each, but I struggle a bit with winter. Particularly a winter that starts early and lasts long - and a winter that goes on beyond three months is a long winter for me. I am not designed for the cold. It enters my marrow and no matter how many layers I pile on or hot water bottles I invest in, nothing seems to properly dispel it. Probably has something to do with growing up in a warmer climate, where the ratio of warm to cold months is reversed. Or the fact that winters where I live now are relentlessly grey and dark when my heart and soul crave colour and light. Whatever the reason, by the time January is coming to an end, I've had enough. I want winter to be ending too. And of course it's not. Far from it.

This year I'm having an especially hard time and it's not just the weather I want to leave behind. In pursuit of integrity in all areas of my life, I'm recognising that there are certain situations and patterns of behaviour that need to be addressed. And some of them present a challenge. With my flight instinct heightened as it is by other factors (see above list of weather related woes), I entertain the thought that I'd much rather just abandon them and start anew, than tackle them as I usually would. The problem with that theory of course, is that wherever I go, I'd be there. And so would many of my troublesome behaviours. But the urge to flee is strong.

However appealing the idea of packing a small bag and running away to warmer climes and a re-invented me is though, it's not feasible. Or sensible. Or necessary. Winter's not great but it's not like I live in Siberia. And truly, my life is not bad, and my bad habits are not insurmountable. I have ways to cope with the cold and grey. I have many good things to focus on and be grateful for. I have the capacity to change the things that need to change. I don't need to run away. But the urge to flee is strong.

And it hits me every year.

The earth laughs in flowers and this week, so do I

Where flowers bloom so does hope

Lady Bird Johnson

A little while ago I mentioned that I love felt flowers. 

Linda Sue, who makes the most exquisite felt figures and other felted beauties sent me a message saying that she would like to send me some of her feltwork flowers.  We 'met' only recently online so I was incredibly touched by her generosity of spirit and excited at the thought of adding one of her beautiful blooms to my collection. She asked me about my favourite colours and later mentioned that she had made a flower 'specially for me while doing a demo at a craft market.  So I knew that something special was on it's way....

I had no idea.

This week, on election day, I received this parcel in the post...

Blown away does not begin to describe how I felt as I opened this treasure chest. Firstly, the lovely box itself - a gorgeous vintage painted tin - and as I opened it a special card with the loveliest message....

And then... not one, two or even three flowers but an entire bouquet! I was, and am, overwhelmed.  Delighted, thrilled, and overwhelmed. ALL my favourite colours - orange, purple, red and turquiose.... SO beautiful!

The parcel also included some thoughtful quotations and a bar of handmade soap that added another floral dimension - the smell of lavender and rose. I wore one of the two purple beauties to celebrate the US election result and all day there was a hint of lavender - calming and beautifully evocative of summer. Lovely.

Linda Sue, thank you. It's been a good week. A week of hope and flowers.