Resolutions

December feels like it has come and gone. There has been a lot of dark, a lot of rain, a lot of focused studio and family time, and very little social media and photo taking. Looking forward to getting on my bike again. Exploring some roads with friends, blue skies, and new beginnings. I know many of us are thinking about the coming year. Considering intentions and setting goals. Thinking about what worked last year and what did not. If you are resolutions type person good for you. If you are not. Good for you. Either way, a new year is coming and things are going to change because that’s the nature of living. I hope whatever that looks like for you that you learn something and settle into the flow of your life.

December

Every year I am surprised by how drawn inward I get - how desperate I am for space - how I crave fresh air and a blue sky and our brilliant sun that freely gives out its warm embrace. I feel disoriented.. there is not enough time or more importantly energy, to do my regular life - yet I am home more. Often confusing my days it becomes emotionally overwhelming.. The dark, cold, and damp of December makes me ache for something I can’t quite put my finger on.. it eludes me and stays just beyond my reach.. trying to grasp at it is exhausting. I just want to sleep. I crave quiet and stillness and the return of the light.. I know it is coming. The final days of the turning season of Fall are upon us and winter awaits..

.

Find time.

Make it if you have to.

Dress in layers.

Go for a walk.

Move your body.

Breathe in fresh air.

Close your eyes.

Feel the wind.

Hear the sounds.

Exhale.

Discomfort

It definitely wasn’t the weekend I had planned. Packing up on Thursday I wondered what are we thinking? A 100% chance of rain - cold rain. Tent camping. And are we even going to get to ride our bikes? Arriving late. It would probably already be raining.. setting up in the rain.. ugh.

But, we’re adventure seekers and we went. It didn’t rain until after we got in our tents for the night. We were fine. Waking to cold and wet rain meant no riding the trails we were there for.. the kids traveling with us were soaking wet.. there was no where to sit.. on the way to the bath house I asked Jason to take me home. He was encouraging.. suggested we hold on a little longer..

Our friend Don naturally had an alternative.. did the teen boys have dry clothes to put on when we were done because we were going to be REALLY wet and cold.. and, we had to get their flooded tent squared away first and foremost.. begrudgingly I put on my riding gear to go ride the most peanut-buttery path I’ve ever ridden for 10 miles of gear grinding and sloshing around in wet sand and mud.

Settling into it I had a great time. Food after in a warm restaurant and then a big roaring fire and s’mores with great friends - laughing at ourselves - made it all worth it.

Being comfortable being uncomfortable is an ongoing lesson of adventure seeking. I am glad I didn’t go home - even though I 100% would have. We made memories we will never forget - memories we will laugh about until the end of our days. I am reminded that comfort is fleeting - my attitude towards it is everything. Having friends who talk you into ridiculous things is imperative. Now, to clean my bike.. and do a whole lot of laundry.

Perspective

Like most people I get in slumps where I feel like I’m pouring all my effort into simply surviving. I’ve got my head down with the wheel to the grindstone.. just getting through each day.. Then we take a trip to the mountains and ride bikes and sleep under the stars with crickets and dropping acorns and falling leaves in yellows and reds.. with time around a fire.. and views like this.. I am reminded it’s all about perspective.

Rest

I am admittedly not great at rest in the traditional sense of the word. Self care for me doesn’t look like trips to the spa - though I don’t mind them.. or lounging around all day - though I do think that has merit and should be done regularly.

One could argue that I don’t like to be quiet with my mind.. we have spent a lot of time sorting out what’s true and not true.. we are not always on the same page but my mind and heart work together pretty well.. We’ve spent a lot of years in love with stillness and have found the places and ways that work - that keep us united. We have kept at it for a very very long time.

Rest comes to me in creativity. It comes in quiet places of wonder.. it comes in unplugging from the busy patterns of living into spaces where chores and shoulds do not exist.. or they barely exist.. I find rest in the song of a feathered friend, the chirp of the katydids, fresh clean air, and the sound of my own heart.. or my lovers sleeping breath..

Bull Thistle

Bull Thistle.

I imagine it marvels at the march of ants and the detailed lines of spider silk reflecting the first vestiges of light in the morning dew..

I imagine it laughs at the curious chipmunks who scurry along in search of seeds filling their cheek pockets to line their winter stores.

I imagine with its deep tap root that it stands in rain and wind proudly tempting the goldfinch with its magenta colored flowers who land on it eagerly awaiting the eruption of its feather-like seeds.

I imagine the cold shivers that run through its harsh spines in the eerie quiet stillness of a slithering snake making its way across the spaces of dusty earth and grass..

I imagine it rests in the butterflies who flitter effortlessly on the summer breeze.. who stop to drink the sweet nectar it contains within.

When I see it I imagine it is just waiting to share all that it has seen if I can get close enough..

Know your fears

I like to try to put a positive twist to things that come up in my life - like things that make me question why I try... This perspective flip is not so much of a “fail safe and always working to be bright and positive” but instead another way of looking at something... another perspective.. and then another and another until something brings me some peace or life moves on and that in and of itself is sometimes enough.

It is important to me to be informed and able to see multiple angles of a perspective. I also can’t always get there and that’s okay too. Sometimes the ID is just unclear enough that I have to leave it where it is until I do feel confident that I can settle into a resolution that makes sense to me. Or I know from experience what it is.

It’s messy. Fear is there. This time rejection that is only kind of rejection. But curiosity stays alive. The old gets tough and itchy. My skin sheds.

I learn.

Know your snakes.

Understand your fears.

Only hold them when you have to.

Kind words

You know, I go through periods of loneliness. I think we all probably do. They are never easy. They seem to dredge up all the old stuff so I can work through it.. again.. as if I haven’t already let it go.. plenty of times before.. but letting go is a process, right? It’s not black and white and it certainly isn’t simple..

Sometimes I worry that I am not enough..

Sometimes I worry that I am too much..

I probably overshare..

But, when I take time to look around the people around me show up..

They like me broken.

They like me whole.

They like ME..

There are little things, like celebrating a blue sky with pastries or a with a hug. Or telling me I should have put my photo on my new business cards. Maybe it’s texting funny tiktok videos (I barely use it) late at night even though they know I’m asleep and sharing it anyway because they know it will make me chuckle when I get around to watch it. They re-share or comment on something that touched them here.. or we exchange heartfelt giggles over the most mundane of things.. like hot flashes making my armpits have giant sweat blobs in them when it’s 30 degrees outside. God, I hate that..

Then, there are the big things.. the “how’s it going?” after a busy/difficult day and holding space for the answer with no judgment, just real listening.. or going on a long bike ride at a menopausal ladies speed to get her her longest ride ever and then saying we will do it again in a couple of weeks for your birthday. There is hand holding and beautiful music and the “yes let’s go” when I say I need mountain air.. All of the encouragement to try hard and work harder.. asking where I am when I’m at work and all my friends are on bikes.. celebrating the big wins and asking about the struggles.. it is just being genuinely good people without strings.

I am grateful for y’all.

All of you.

Virtual and local.

Thank you for being a part of my life.

I am blessed beyond measure.

And I am certainly not lonely.

📸 Luca Swaim

Adapt

Pausing to breathe, to take a moment, to take space.. to see the world and think clearly is one of the most important things we can do for ourselves and for those around us. It brings us closer to the moment and it helps us to adapt to what is around us. Adapting doesn’t necessarily mean complacency. Adapting can also mean seeing things for what they are and opening to the change that has to come for thriving to stay at the center. Change is not always easy. Thus, adapting is not always easy. But, here we are living lives riddled with chaos.. disorder.. grief.. so what else are we going to do?

Take a moment today to close your eyes and listen to the spring air filled with bird song. Try to spot an early early butterfly drifting effortlessly.. look up and take note of the leaves that are beginning to unfurl painting the chartreuse pallet of spring everywhere.. Feel the air and sun on your skin. Breathe deeply. Intentionally. It only takes 30 seconds. And then, invite a friend to do the same.

Highs and lows

Riding bikes. Making art. Existing.. is filled with precious and heartbreaking moments. Sometimes these moments are seared forever as memories that shape who we become.. and the stories we tell.

This moment was rich with both.

Jason and I were sitting on the banks of the Oconee River enjoying a beer five miles into a mountain biking ride that I really needed because I was feeling emotionally low from the strain of moving.. I NEEDED the quiet of an urban assault by the river..

He is almost always accommodating.

He picked this spot to rest and enjoy the beer we brought along. As we sat here I spotted a world teaming with life.. resurrection fern, usnea floating from tree tops down towards the river. Wild azalea blossoms just opening.. a hawk flew overhead, a barred owl called from across the bank.. time stood still.. for the first time in weeks.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw wings flutter a few feet away from our rock. (You know I’m always looking for the birds.) As I turned my head I initially thought I was looking at a very early fledgling, but the longer I watched more birds came in to feast.. and I realized we were watching a large flock of Cedar Waxwings. I am pretty sure they are the most magical birds I have laid eyes on thus far in my life.

We sat there for 15 minutes just watching them eat.. not really saying much and whispering when we did speak..

When they moved on we did as well enjoying the remainder of our ride with a much clearer head.

I love birds.

Big or small

Do you ever think about what a wonder it is that life can be held in a small seed in utter darkness and against all odds erupt from the hard shell that has held it through all the weather conditions and then suddenly one day begin reaching for the light? Each day drawing resources from the world around it to exchange energy with the air and the soil eventually blooming, welcoming pollinators, withstanding new ways of experiencing rain and wind and hail, and then as quickly as it pushed into the new life it’s leaves turn, the flowers fall off, it makes new seeds and then decays.. going back to the earth to the feed the future.. Amazing..just when my ego begins to tempt me into believing I am big a seed goes and makes me feel small.

Recharge

Wild places.

Silent realms.

Hidden pockets of space and time. Moments..

Sunrise.

Sunset.

Bird song.

The pause of everything to catch the breeze on skin..

Deep inhalations..

Longer exhalations..

Places beyond the comfort of human built dens.. fresh air regularly - my prescription for a heart filled life.

Imbolc

Tomorrow is St Brigid’s Day or Imbolc.

It is my favorite of the seasonal holidays.

Falling between the Winter Solstice and the Spring Equinox it is the time of year when the Earth’s rhythms and ours become aware that the sun’s light is returning.  The dark winter is nearing its end.

Naturally, we chase sunlight like it has been lost forever.  Standing in its glow it is warmer and brighter.

There is hope hiding in buds and within seeds waiting for the right conditions to explode into the harsh world of life and death.

Dandelions and Daffodils and Crocus burst through the ground in the colors of the sun as the foundational reminder that life is about to erupt into Spring.

Squirrels gather twigs to make nests.  Birds begin to stake out where they will make their nests this year.

Yet, in all the readying there is the cold stillness of winter that lingers.  Patience and preparation lays the groundwork for the beauty and wonder that will bloom forth in the coming months.  

Life has balance.

Most days we miss it because the blue sky is covered with gray and damp skies, but it’s there if we are paying attention.  

The process up to today

If you have followed my artwork for any length of time you probably already know I come from a long line of women who worked with fiber. Taking a length of fabric and transforming it into something else just runs in my DNA. How I came to the style of collage quilting I do has been a lifelong learning process.

My very first ‘real’ quilt was for our daughter. I wanted her to have a quilt. Sewing is something I have just always done so I went to the fabric shop, bought a book, picked out a pattern, and bought the fabric to make it. I cut everything out and shazam like magic I was hooked.

This one quilt turned into bag making, art festivals, and most importantly joining the Cotton Path Quilters Guild which meets on one Tuesday a month at the Lyndon House. I was immediately welcomed into the fold by being invited to help hang one of their quilt shows which is a really HUGE process. As I touched the quilts & talked to the quilters I felt like I was standing in the light of something huge and almost forgotten.

Until then, I had never realized just what was possible with fabric.

I bought books, I took workshops, I experimented at home. I listened intently to what the wise women in the guild had to share. I quickly became bored of squares and triangles and began dabbling in paper piecing and foundation piecing more and more.

The one dilema I have had since the beginning is that I do not draw well. As I began to get away from simple shapes and angles the more I wanted to make portraits and landscapes. Not being able to draw well meant I had to work with someone else to get my idea onto paper.

That was so hard.

Jason has always been willing to help. Sometimes it would take weeks to convey what I had in my mind to him well enough to get a rendering I could work with. We would use a projector to then put it on the wall so I could make a template. The whole process was a nightmare, but the result once I sat at the machine was pretty cool. I pretty well dialed in my piecing style to a science that worked. I made a lot of art and have been fortunate that most of it has sold.

Time passed, life got too busy. For about 10 years quilting had to take a backseat. I found ways to be creative beyond my sewing machine. I think the time was well spent. I also knew I would come back around to it.

In 2019 Kalib and Jason opened the world of technology to me through Adobe Photoshop.  I could import an image into it and trace it to determine where the lines would be.  Being able to FINALLY put an idea together for myself was the golden moment of shifting my work to the style of work I have being making the last few years.  It continues to be an ongoing learning and experimenting process.  I’ve been using Procreate on my IPad for the last two wall hanging I have made.  Through embracing technology my drawing skills have improved dramatically.  I also will forever be a student of my art form so I follow other fiber artists I love on social media.  I especially like the people who openly share their creative process which is why I do.

In 2022 as I create I find myself settling into a rhythm.  I kind of know what I like.  I know what I want things to look like.  I also still make an effort to stretch in some new way with every piece I create.  I’m pretty excited about the journey of being a creative person and what I can dream up.  

Owls

When I was a little girl my favorite field trips were always to places that we got to be in the wild and zoos. I was actually on one of the first field trips to go to Sandy Creek Nature Center when it first opened. I was maybe in the second grade? There’s a picture of me at the water fountain that was on the cover of the Athens Banner Herald the next day.

But, I digress, one of my favorite places to go as a kid was to the Memorial Park Zoo. I particularly loved the Skunk and The Great Horned Owl. I liked the Skunk because no one else did. I liked the Great Horned Owl because when it looked at me I felt like it knew me and saw me.

I actually remember this one time in particular I was standing to the side of its enclosure feeling a little sad that something so beautiful lived inside a cage. At the time I didn’t really understand that the animals there could not live in the wild any longer and the Last Unicorn was my absolute favorite movie. Nonetheless, I felt connection in my heart. When it turned its head slowly in my direction I felt like we understood one another - not in an adult over thinking it kind of way, but through the magical lense a child looks at the world. You know what I mean. We’ve all had those moments.

I haven’t really changed all that much. When the Great Horned Owl who lives in our new neighborhood hoots just outside our windows I get all giddy inside like the most distinguished guest in the neighborhood has just payed us a visit. I mean, look at them. They are so stinking cool. Maybe in my next life I will have the pleasure of coming back as an owl..

Nodding Trillium

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Drunk
On the sound
Of the creek
Babbling
Over the rocks
And through the crevasses
Water
Forever finding it’s way.

Entranced
In the song
Of the Louisiana Waterthrush’s
Melodic warble
Filling the space between the newly formed leaves
Closing in the forest canopy.

Dazed
By the yellow powdered
Sex organs
Held by the pink veined
Swirled petals
Of the nodding trilliums
Blanketing the ashed grounds of this wilderness.

Lost
Within the quiet world
Of nothing-ness
And everything-ness
Of the mountain.