I’m Giving Thanks, Anyway.

 

Normally, I would be writing a piece about thankfulness and gratitude right now. But this year, we all know, there’s a lot of bad stuff happening around us. And I can’t be grateful or thankful for any of it. 

Yet, my deep in my heart, I do feel grateful. Thankful. And hopeful. Go ahead and turn the page or call me crazy, but here it is anyway. 

I am grateful and thankful for:

 

No pain this Thanksgiving. 

Being able to bake sourdough rolls for Tday. 

Making cranberry sauce. 

Walking through my local park with energy to spare. 

Lifting weights again. (Ok they’re only 2lbs, but it’s a start)

Healthy husband, kids, grandkids and doggy. 

Creating in clay, paint, and yarn. (Although not at the same time, but it’s a thought?)

The couple who gave me their kiln and wheel so I could throw and fire clay. 

People who support my creativity with sales and encouraging comments. 

Meeting and sharing the creative journey with other artists and writers. 

Writing here on Blogger and Substack. 

There, I said it. Or rather wrote it anyway.  

Sometimes I just have to do the weird thing. 

Somebody has to, right?

Here’s hoping this day brings you some thankful and grateful things. 

I’d love to hear yours in the comments. 

Enjoy: Experimenting

 

Entering this new year, I felt a little lost. How was I feeling now? Where did I want to go? What did I want to do. These are questions I haven’t looked into in the last few years because all I could focus on in those years was survival.  Maybe you feel the same. 

Taking an online workshop this week, I was able to see it all more clearly. Tara Mohr presented a free workshop called “Restore and Reimagine”. As I listened to the recording, I felt calmer and more centered. Hearing other women talk about how they were feeling in this new year, I felt less alone. 

Restore. Reclaim. 

I love words and I respect their power. Words can challenge and comfort, give insight and inspiration. When I pick my word of the year, I look for one that helps me move forward. I also look for phrases and quotes. I mix and match all this with sketches, small watercolors and pictures and make a collage on my studio bulletin board. And I put some up on my refrigerator. 

Phrases like: ‘take life back’ and ‘fresh start’ popped up. I wasn’t sure what they meant for me or my art, but I put them up anyway. The online workshop helped me see these phrases more clearly. What I really wanted was not to go back to my old life back but to restore and reclaim my life now. 

How do I do that? Reimagine. 

I had so many things fall apart around me. Closures. Shows. Work routines. Home disasters. I worked hard in and around it all. I knew what I had loved to do and make. But now it’s time to take stock. It’s time to ask questions and open up to new ideas. What do I want to create? Where do I want to be? What brings me enjoyment? 

One thing I enjoy is color. When I was 16 years old, I started doing watercolors and now I do clay. I wondered: what would happen if I did both? Is it possible? And how would it work? I let go of the questions and decided to let myself reimagine. 

Rolling clay, smooth and soft

Mixing watery sunset colors

Washing a sky 

Tilting and turning and dripping

Trees appear  

Enjoying the flow

February Love Story #2

As I said last week, I’ve decided to take this month to focus on love. I want to remind myself, again, of everything that makes my heart happy, my soul refreshed and my body healthy. 

Love is more than romantic love, it’s the feeling of connection, creation and dedication. Hopefully, it brings peace and joy. But it can also be challenging and sometimes it takes a brave heart and spirit.   

This week’s love story is about art. 

I wasn’t alway interested in art. Truth be told, once upon a time, I was a bookish nerd.  I loved to read and one of my favorite places to go was the library. All those books! Those wonderful little drawers in the card catalog. Flipping through them to research a paper to me, was fun. 

But what I realize now is those books, those words came alive in my mind. I didn’t just read a story, I saw it. The people. The clothes, food, trees, flowers in their world. Their homes and towns and, yes, attics. 

Some of my very first art pieces were wooden boxes with a clay character, mask and, yes, a story. Then came paintings with landscapes and characters which I now realize are called ‘narrative’ paintings. 

For the love of mud. 

Another favorite childhood pastime: playing in the mud. Now, I get to throw it, roll it, cut it out and paint it. Not everything I throw or roll or paint turns out well. Things explode. Crack. Or get trimmed way too much, like last week’s bowl. 

But I refuse to let failure stop me, so this week, I threw a few more bowls. 

Sculpted some new ‘fairies’.  Rolled out a raven or two. 

Clay and words and colors, oh my. 

Some loves never die. 

I am still a big reader. And along the way, I added writing with a career in advertising. So I guess it’s not surprising that my clay always seems to need words along with symbols like hearts and spirals and leaves. 

Even if it doesn’t always turn out perfect. Or get in a show. Or sell. That book-loving little girl, who liked to get her hands in mud, is still happily doing what she loves. 

Everyday. 

Anyway.