january 23rd

on the other hand, my indoor herb garden is thriving.  inconveniently taking over one corner of the kitchen where there ultimately will be a doorway leading up to the attic (with a pantry under the stairs, can't wait).

yesterday when I was meditating I felt like I could hear the thyme growing.  I think I'm getting pretty good at meditation.  I'm up to 20 minutes each morning.  It's such a clearing away for me.  I can do things like stop being around people who suck my energy and put up blog posts that aren't one hundred percent grammatically correct - both major feats for me.

the meditation is after the french-pressed coffee, of course.

january 20

I managed to make two sock monkeys to donate to the local art center's annual fundraiser.  I hope they get some bids.  The belly button was Russ' idea.

It's dreary in the bluegrass now.  Russ said he is going to light this bonfire when he gets back from Kenya at the end of the month.  I suppose I am grateful that we can even light a bonfire at january's end because we sure could not do that in Chicago.  I guess we really couldn't just light things on fire in the middle of Wrigleyville either, but you know what I mean.  When we lived at Waveland (in Wrigleyville), we were known to be out on the deck firing up the grill with my sister and brother in law well in to November.  I can't wait to grill some pizzas again.  If the spirit moves me I may roast some marshmallows on this fire.  I guess I better put that on the grocery list - if I can find it.  My desk is a mess.  It's as if I never spent an entire day in December getting it all tidy.  I thought about making it tidy and staging it for you but then I thought, why not just keep it real? This is what the left side looks like, complete with a pair of kick-ass black wool pants I scored at a resale shop for next to nothing, partially hemmed by me (I just have to finish hemming the lining and that's easy).  I love deconstructing clothing and I really love the upcycling aspect of it.  I would show you the right side of the desk but there's a pathetic Christmas cactus on it that has not bloomed in two years and I thought that this would be a depressing thing to share, expecially this time of year.  You understand.

I know.  It's a mess.  Here, look at another photo of a sock monkey.  Here you go.  Be happy.

Process over Product

Remember that video game where you click on a square and it opens up more squares around it?  That is essentially what has happened to the state of my practice and Big Fat Art Cloth over the last four months. The trick of the game was to pick a square that would expand as many squares as possible.  Somewhere in the universe this year I picked a good square, and as a result I have been working hard to get things in to place so that I can accept this turn of fate.

Looking back over my blog for the past year, I realize I have spent more time writing about my garden and our effort to live sustainably and less time showing you printed textiles and oil bar with wax drawings. I have certainly spent less time discussing art therapy and theatre-of-mind topics. I've decided that I will make an effort to post more prints and have had requests to post more about the practice of printing, maybe even offering a workshop online that I've honed over the years called Pursuit of Your Image. What do you think?

I've also agreed to write more about my practice as an art therapist. I can not post art by participants due to federal confidentiality laws unless I get a consent, so we'll see, although I already have consent to show you some things from the files. Anything I post is of course done with consent, or is my own reactive artwork, otherwise I wouldn't dare post it for ethical reasons (HIPPA laws aside).

But I must talk about my garden again.  After I was accused of holding out on posting art over Christmas ale, of which I admit to having my share this season, I realized how much the textures, and colors, and just the whole process of growing something effect my artwork. I've never overtly stated that on my blog.  When I did some of my earliest training in art therapy at a womens' day shelter in a part of Chicago that is a little rough around the edges, I realized early on how important the process of making art is in healing.  That is to say, I came to understand that many of the women needed the process of watching something come to fruition more than the product of the art itself.

This is why using clay is a great medium for art therapy.  The clay keeps you coming back.  First you must work it, then you must watch it and tend to it as it dries to a certain consistency, next there is glazing, firing in the kiln, and finally after waiting for the kiln to cool, there is a final product.  There is always anticipation on how the piece may turn out as we are not master potters, and the often cracked or disappointing piece makes us realize that we have to get back to the clay table and try again.  You have to keep trying.  The bowls posted here were created by me, by hand, and while they are not artshow-worthy, they represent hours and hours of sitting at the clay table processing the scary experience of homelessness with the women.  These imperfect bowls represent the women at the shelter - and myself - continuing to click on little squares out there in the universe with the hope of expanding our opportunities and our lives.

what we have

We have broccoli.

Lettuce.

And, although it seems a little random right now, dill.

And my art studio is a complete and total mess, although my recent sock monkey workshop at the University of Louisville was loads of fun.

blue

I've been collecting blue glass for about 20 years now.  Something about the way the light glows out of the blue really speaks to my soul and makes sense.  Plus I've already shared how addicted I am to blue.  I really love the way it glows on grey days.  It shows me that there's still something there to appreciate, some energy and beauty to be had.

Is it just me, or do you see the shadow of an old timey Santa with a walking staff in the bottle?  I concede I may have spent too much time in the holiday section of the craft store yesterday.  I started collecting vintage Santas three years ago.  I figure, you can't hoard them the way you can beads, buttons, and blue glass.  I could be wrong.

More Upcycling

I know I've gone on about my love of the family size Nutella jar.

But I'm currently having an affair with upcycled rich, chocolately Ovaltine containers too.

Follow Your Heart

Four of my gourds and a teeny tiny Eiffel Tower, a gift from my beloved brother-in-law, who got to see Paris before he passed.  A beautiful reminder that you've got one incredible life to live so focus on what inspires you.