Small Things

 

I’m going to start out by saying: I don’t know what to write about today. Nothing I say will eliminate the evil and greed. I admit, I don’t understand why some people use their power to hurt others, especially when they have more than they need to live their own lives. 

I see it. And I just shake my head in disbelief.  

I do my best to be kind and good and understanding. I don’t feel I’m here to compete with others. I feel I’m here to help. Understand. Love. And create. 

Creating helps. 

Whether it’s making new ceramic reliefs, dabbling in watercolors, writing or crocheting creating something with my hands and heart helps me. It keeps me moving forward in spite of a world that wants to hold me back. 

So, I create a blue bird and an orchid in clay. 

A watercolor on clay. 

A freeform crochet piece that may be a drawstring bag? I don’t know. I’m just using up leftover yarn. 

It really doesn’t matter what you or I create today. What matters is putting creative energy out there to balance the destructive energy. To surround the fear with color and light and softness and love. 

Yes, we have to create in spite of all that’s going on around us. To create is to dream of a better day, to see through a different lens and to love the beauty in the world around us.

Thank you 2025 Word of the Year: Thrive

 

I’ve had a hell of a few years from 2022 to 2025. Here’s a recap:

2022 - 4th of July flood in my house, damage took a year to repair. 

2023 - My husband got laid off. We lost income and health insurance. It took 6 months for me to get Social Security and Medicare. 

2024 - The year of Misdiagnosed Illness that ended in major surgery to repair. 

2025 - Recovery from surgery both physical and emotional. Didn’t know about PTSD

But I’m here. I survived. And that’s why I picked Thrive as last years word of the year. 

Because I wanted and needed and hoped, now I’d be able to Thrive, not just survive.   

And I did. 

It wasn’t easy or fun. There was still pain and physical limits. And after I worked my way through all that, I got hit upside the head with trauma. Now, I’d had surgery before: 2 C sections, 1 broken wrist, 1 skin cancer removal. But none of them hit me like this surgery did. Every little twinge sent me into the fear zone. 

And I understand it now, thanks to support from others who’ve been through it. And books about it. And, most importantly, thank you, my  Substack friends who have been down this rough road ahead of me and were here to shine a light for me to see by.  

Art as therapy. Throwing is out. 

After the surgery, I couldn’t do my art the same way anymore. I used to love throwing clay on the wheel. But it uses my abdominals and it was very uncomfortable. I had to let it go and move on. Honestly, now I know, it was time anyway.

I was gifted a wheel and kiln from a wonderfully supportive couple decades ago. They loved my copper work, saw my clay work and gave me a huge gift. I was a failure at throwing in high school. (Cue embarrassing clay incident: clay sailing off wheel and hitting the wall behind me. WTF) Yeah. I went back to ‘school’ and learned to throw. I even sold it at shows and galleries. 

But I’m not a production potter. What I truly love is sculpture and faces and masks. And over the months, my surgery recovery led me back to where I’d began. I didn’t realize it at first. I was just ‘goofing’ around and trying to do whatever my body would allow. 

Relief.

It all started with doodling. When I was still unable to do much, I was gifted with a set of sparkle gel pens and a drawing pad. Some days, all I could do was doodle. Maybe swish some watercolor paints around. And crochet. 

But I worked my way back to my studio. I had a little clay left, so I rolled it out and played around. Here’s what found me: drawings and watercolors coming to life in clay. What a weird idea, right? 

I made one, then another and another. 

Then a face appeared. It sat on the shelf, alone. Until one day, I looked up at the sunflowers in my kitchen and got an idea. 

Soon, in addition to the sunflower, a poppy, gingko and oak leave reliefs appeared. 

I’m not sure how or where I’m going to be able to show them. But I’m hoping  somewhere, somehow, someone will help make it happen. 

That these new pieces, along with me, will thrive. 

Sanity Stockings

 

Stitching my way to peace.

It’s been almost a year since my major surgery. A surgery I didn’t know was coming, saved my life. I’m grateful. Before I got the surgery I was bounced from one Urgent Care to another with no diagnosis. I was even told by one doctor, “You remind of my mother. There’s nothing wrong with you.” 

Yeah. After 9 months, a CT scan proved something was really wrong. I thank the surgeon and nurses who really helped me both physically and emotionally. (If you want the whole story, read my first Substack/blog “Easily Dismissed”.)

Crocheting comfort.

Recovery from major surgery is not easy for anyone. I’m not a very patient, patient. I had to have something to do. So I started crocheting hats and scarves. I’d made more than enough for family and friends, then I thought I’d donate some to a local shelter for women and children. When I dropped them off, they asked if I was part of a group because they’d really love some Christmas stockings. About 40. 

I said, I’d see what I could do.

Stocking up or down. 

I’ve never made a crochet Christmas stocking. So I searched the internet and found several patterns. I tried one that is crocheted from top down which means the heel and toe are done last. It was single crochet which is easy but boring. And I hated doing the heel and toe at the end.

Then I found a stocking pattern that went from the toe and heel up. It used a ribbing stitch I’d never done and gave me a new challenge. Plus I got the tricky bit done first and the rest was the fun ribbed stitch.

Recovering peace and connection. 

Months went by and I had happily stitched my way through most of my yarn stash making ribbed stockings. I picked up some great buys when a local yarn store closed but I started getting a little bored with red and white and teal green.  

I’d made quite a few stockings by this point, but I doubted I could make them all on my own. And I’d recovered enough to venture beyond my home turf. That’s when I found a new event at my local library: a fiber meet up! 

It was a lovely mixed group of fiber enthusiasts: a quilter, a weaver and, yes, knitters and crocheters! There was even a big bin of free/donated yarn! Colors like hot pink, blue, yellow and mixed. Oh my. 

Here’s a quote from Martha Beck that inspired me: “Like crazy quilting, “sanity quilting” involves stitching together a life out of things you love in order to stay peaceful, calm, inspired, and sane. “

Then I needed to stay calm

And recover my strength and spirit

Now I’m inspired and peaceful

And staying sane

One stocking at a time.

Bloom

Things are flowering in my studio. I don’t know why. I didn’t make sketches or take pictures or plan or conceptualize designs. 

I got out my clay. Rolled out a slab and set it aside.The next day, I rolled out some more clay and started cutting it up. Leaves appeared. Petals popped up. Why? 

Ok, I do love flowers. I don’t buy big bouquets. Instead, I splurge on one small bunch of flowers every week at Trader Joe’s. Whatever is in season: Sunflowers, Dahlias, Chrysanthemums, Gerbera Daisies. And I get an orchid plant to put behind my sink and baby it until it goes, then I get another one. 

Clay Blooms. 

It never occurred to me to make flowers in clay, but they’re here and they’re growing. I have to wonder again, why? Is there something going on around me I’m not aware of? Some plant or flower fairy waving her magic wand?

I did three in a row and stopped. I thought that was it and that’s fine. 

A clay circle. 

I went into the studio another day,  got out my clay and cut it into a circle. Soon the circle had a nose. Then eyes. And lips. Ok, so I made a face. Not in the way I’ve ever made faces or sculpted clay. But there it was on my board, so I propped it up on top of a yogurt container, covered it and left my studio. 

So, I made this round face. It was an experiment. I’d never made a face or sculpture like that before, so maybe it was just a new challenge. I had no idea beyond just making a more abstract, round face. 

Flowers again. 

The next morning, I was admiring the 4 sunflowers I’d bought at TJ’s that week. Later that day, the face became a Sunflower. Then a ladybug came to rest on the clay. 

Again, no planning, no drawing, no decision. It just happened. 

It was fun. 

Then another flower face or face flower appeared. And more ladybugs. 

My mind shouted: what are you doing? And why? 

I truly don’t know. And maybe I’m not meant to know. 

Maybe there is no why. There’s only what.

Maybe somewhere inside me there was a need. 

After all the doctors and drugs and surgery and pain.

Maybe it’s time for me to trust my body. 

And like a flower: Bloom.  

Relief

 

While the world swirls with ugly threats and bad news for their side, I am looking for beauty and calm and growth. I think we all need to look outside all of this crazy and try to find something that brings relief and helps us center. 

For me, that’s working with my hands, mind and imagination. I’ve worked in a lot of art media over the years: art quilting, beading, embroidery; oil, acrylic and pastel painting; throwing clay and sculpture in copper and clay. I’ve enjoyed the process of learning and creating in each media. But there’s something I’ve never tried: relief work. 

A new clay experiment. 

I’ve done repousse in copper but working on a clay relief is totally different. With copper sheets, you push out from the back of the copper to create the raised design.

With clay relief, you add clay to the surface of a slab of clay to make a design or image. During my surgery recovery, I got into painting again. I painted some landscapes and flowers. I like painting, but something in me wanted more. 

So I started rolling and cutting and shaping and soon one of my paintings turned into a clay relief landscape and another a flower. 

It was so much fun, I did a few more.

Now what?

I wish I could tell you I have a plan. I don’t. Like all of the art I’ve created and shown over the last 20 years, it was just something I had to do. Something came about because I needed to work with color and texture and shape. 

Some of the pieces tell a story, like this one, about a woman from Japan. (

(First picture-box closed, Second picture-box open, short story about Meiko on inside of door)

        

Some were masks make of window screening or clay.

. 

Some were just paintings.

 

Some were just cups, bowls and vases.

 

Art, like life, changes. 

What I do know is after the major abdominal surgery, I won’t be throwing cups or bowls anymore. But I still love clay and how it feels and how it forms and how it looks. And I can use underglazes to paint again which feels like a return to my creative watercolor ‘home’ but in a new way. 

Instead of putting myself down for not sticking to one art media, I want to let myself experiment. Embrace the fact that as my life changes and so does my art. 

And you know, to accept that, well it’s kind of a relief.