I Named this Piece, Light Photo by Author
Afraid that our inner light will be extinguished or our inner darkness exposed, we hide our true identities from each other. In the process, we become separated from our own souls. We end up living divided lives, so far removed from the truth we hold within that we cannot know the integrity that comes from being what you are.

Parker J. Palmer

Change is difficult for all of us, sometimes we get years to do it and often we are thrust so suddenly that we tend to recoil in fear and surprise. (Tweet This) We can break open.

This piece of mine is about change, about letting the days of our lives slather us in the shades we are ready to see. In the words from one of my most favourite poets, 'that's how the light gets in'.

I thought about Leonard Cohen as I played with this piece. It lived in fragments and chaos for some time, it was truly ugly and unfinished. And also how I knew that I had to just let go and keep going. One moment at a time.

I Named this Piece, Light

I named this piece, Light.

The dark, the bright, the footsteps that cross our path, the pungent and the sweet. All there across my heart.

Then the white reflecting light showed up.

The light that joins pieces of our lives previously separated by loss and disappointment, it sneaks in with messages that we needed to hear. It shows up with an unexpected phone call, a song lyric, or buried deep within the pages of a book. It hits you in the face while you're running, or when you see the smiling face of a stranger.

The light is always there in the cracks. (Tweet This)

It's up to each of us to let it in.

Stay well, stay kind.

I have just discovered these two wonderful, supportive artists whose books and exercises I have drawn from in my playing time.

Please note that I am an affiliate. I will receive a small commission if you purchase (at no extra cost to you) if you also come on this learning journey.

Sunday, January 10, 2021

Create - the only thing you need to know: Word for the Year

Resting on a colander

These two birds were found with the rest of their family many years ago at a garage sale. They, as well as their siblings were feathered in downy red at that time. But over the years these two have changed.

They have aged, been moved around, dangled from the edges, and fallen...off the tree which we prop in a corner of our living room during the season.

They have grown weary over the years and needed an update. They inspired my word for the year, Create.

The rest of the bird family has been packed away for another year, these two however, remain staring at me. And in this project, you will see them enter this new year in a new form.

Trying to improve

Anyone who knows me is aware how I like to re-imagine things. On empty pages, and with torn bits of the past, pieced together to make something new. Fitting for a new year, don't you think?

If you decide to continue to follow along here, you will see a shift towards creation in my words. Over the past year (perhaps enforced by distancing), I have realized that creating is much more fun than consuming.

And in this attempt to Create, I ask you too to give yourself permission to do what needs doing this new year.

You may choose to de-clutter (because space is a good thing), to re-read a favourite book (because you've grown in the meantime), to investigate a new skill (because, why not?).

We all Create in different ways. (Tweet This)

A piece here, a piece there. Note the glue medium stuck to fingers.

Smart Husband suggested they could dry this way!

I will aim this year to Create as much as I can, out of words - a poem or a story, on canvas - with paper and markings from anywhere, ribbons, wool, textile donations anyone? Using things that others might call pieces of trash.

Many of course will call this madness, but I name it Create. (Tweet This)

And now, here sit two new birdies. In this new year.