Lots of em. One step forward, two steps back. Will I ever learn?
I know I shouldn’t let my emotions run away with me, and yet that is exactly what I keep doing. Which is not so bad when they are good but… Well, you get my point. That centre just keeps getting away from me.
And yet… when I look back at who I was almost nine years ago, I find her hardly recognisable. It seems impossible that I was ever this cocky. I keep asking myself: How did I manage to think that I knew so much (which I did, by the way, and do) when I knew so very little (and keep knowing less as I grow older, it seems to me)?
I feel both more in control and less. A little the wiser, I hope, and a lot of illusions the poorer. Still teetering on the edge of cynicism, although I keep scrambling away from it. Is there bravery in refusing to give in, or is it sheer stubborn stupidity? A bit of both, I suppose.
What I do know is that the world will only change if enough of us refuse to become cynics. If enough of us continue dreaming, fighting, rebelling… being naive and seeking to meld together the wisdom of the past with the knowledge that our species gathers so very eagerly.
And so I continue to seek out the Light.
As the days are darkening and the summer in which I went through another transition stretches into fall, I stride — or perhaps I should say ‘stumble’ — forward, feeling both as confused and as certain as ever (and perhaps more), but holding on just a little more securely to who I am.
An older piece by Umber Dove, who always manages to touch the essence. Whose spirit sparkles even from afar, perceived through the distant aether.
I found this when leafing through her blog, heartache and all, wishing I could wear one of her magical rings on every finger.
Is it possible to fall in love with someone through what she makes and writes? Apparently so, because I have. Just so you know: Kelly, I love you!
Find her on Facebook here.
It has been a crazy busy year – and in busy times, things just have to go. It seems the blog has been one of the things to go in recent years although it keeps murmuring softly at the edge of my vision, calling me in.
So here I am. I don’t have many words right now. It’s the end of the day, the children are tired (as am I), soon I will have to start thinking about feeding the masses (French fries today, I think, not nutritionally responsible but so very easy)… but right now I have found a few minutes to let my fingers trickle some words, and randomly languish on some recent photos…
I am still dyeing, that love is here to stay. This vintage silk skirt has become a favourite: dyed in iron-tinged onion skins before being printed with eucalyptus. Not so recently though, perhaps two years ago already? I still love the photo though. This was rolled in on itself before I discovered rolling on sticks and quite frankly the prints are the better for it. Adorned with silver moons, so appropriately as I have become closer to the Earth’s tides this year.
I have also become obsessed with indigo… and only just realised that this Shibori tied print looks like two people back to back. Will I be able to find the cloth this is on again? I hope so as it is quite fascinating.
This year I found feathers everywhere on my path… as if the universe were willing me to fly.
We have had to let my dad go…
And I have counted my blessings, 1… 2… 3… with these most precious souls entrusted into my care, every day.
Eleven moons into the year (this one above being October Hunter’s Moon), I am looking forward to the stillness of winter and the blessings of home.
With love to you,
‘Druidry is a huge sacrifice – giving up ignorance and opening our eyes to the world, seeing what we can do to make it a better place.’ (from ‘The Awen Alone’ by Joanna van der Hoeven)
I do not know that I would call myself a Druidess as I have always been wary of aligning with any one system of beliefs, but this resonates deeply within me. I have often felt that wanting to know the truth of this world and our place in it, and especially making it a better place for all creatures, involves sacrifice. Sacrifice of ignorance, resulting in a deep sense of loss and outrage at what mankind has done to its home in this universe. And sacrifice of entitlement and sometimes comfort as I take on responsibility for my place on this Earth and come to understand that I must tread lightly to honour and preserve her.
It means grieving for all that is being done in the name of progress, money and fashion. And trying to change these things by reducing, reusing and recycling, and by sharing with my immediate circle of family of friends what can – no what must – be done to ensure that our children and grandchildren can enjoy what has been given into our stewardship. And often that means giving something up, spending more time doing things or taking time to separate plastic, glass, electrical and paper waste and take it to the container, which in our current culture of convenience and perceived lack of time may feel like sacrifice.
It means seeing with different eyes (or is it rather a different spirit?) and being thankful, living with the Earth rather than battling and taking from her, and using what she provides freely instead of wresting it from her with violence. And if that makes me part Druidess, then that is what I shall be. As yesterday’s clouds seem to confirm, if you believe in signs ‘from above’ 😉
Around the time I turned 40, I thought my heart was in serious trouble. I experienced heart palpitations, shortness of breath, dizziness… One night I got so anxious I called the doctor. He asked my if my arms were tingling (‘Yes, they are! That’s why I finally decided to call because I was so afraid…’).
His answer? ‘Well that’s good, because it means you’re not having a heart attack. It does mean that you are hyperventilating, however. And that means you need to take a close look at your life. Because 16-year old girls can start to hyperventilate for no reason, just because. But 40-year old girls… well… if they start hyperventilating, it usually means there is something seriously amiss in their life…’
I never forgot those words and the way that kind, kind doctor said them. Of course my life was in real trouble at the time, and it only got worse for a while. But it was the day I realised how I simply stop breathing when things become to hard, in an effort to hold in that deluge of pain, or sadness, or anxiety, for fear it will swallow me alive.
It was also the day I started to learn that you have to keep breathing. In… out… Deep, endless breaths that not only fill your body with oxygen but allow you to breathe in light, and breathe out darkness.
It was the day I started to take life back into my own hands. And breathe as if my life depended on it.
…but that’s okay because I’m not wasting it. My days are filled, sometimes to overflowing, but that’s okay too because it all belongs. And there is so much joy in my life, it fills my heart and my soul. And that, my friends, is the stuff happiness is made of.
My soul is firmly seated in my body once again, no longer trying to flee reality. Am I sounding like a mystic? Too bad, there’s nothing I can do about that. Be it shamanism, witchcraft, giftedness or new ageism – I am coming alive and feel like i’m more or less consistently in control for the first time in my life, regardless of external circumstances. Which is great, but also the tiniest bit scary because if I screw up, there is no one I can blame.
Apart from all this metaphysical wonderfulness, I have been knitting (a little), dyeing (a lot) and enjoying life with my children, family and friends. (Yes, and working, cleaning, ranging, running after children, doing the administration, dropping into bed exhausted and much more not so fun stuff – but that is part of life, too.)
Too much to share in a single post, of course, so I’ll conclude with a couple of pictures of roses, rose leaves, achillea, hydrangea, buddleia, maple and a sprinkling of iron on tussah silk wrapped around a copper pipe.
Oh, that glow!
So much for good intentions… Well at least you know the good intention was there to start with!
A quick post to show off a pre-loved silk shirt eco-dyed with eucalyptus, cochineal, geranium, alkanet flakes, rose leaves and what is probably a red-leafed Acer japonicum, although I have never seen such a big tree (easily 4 metres tall) here in the Netherlands.
All of it simmered in a dye bath made from Dutch-grown eucalyptus generously contributed by Mary from the Koala eucalyptus nursery in De Pol laced with iron liqueur, which turned a deep grey – almost black. Sadly, I never thought of dyeing some silk thread in that dye pot before it had to be discarded (because it developed an unpleasant odour that caused my family to complain loudly)…
The shirt had a dappled weave pattern, which makes for some lovely highlights in the dyed fabric. I may add some stitching and change the sleeves, which are too long. I’ll first need to figure out how, though.
Out of the pot
First indication of something lovely
I ❤ eucalyptus and it loves me right back!
Rorschach snake face
Tie resist marks showing up beautifully
Oh, the beauty of it,,,
Lots of things seem to be taking shape these days. Including the future. I was shocked to realise how reluctant I had become to plan. How afraid I had grown of imagining what the future might hold in store. I remember times when closing my eyes on the day was a relief and all the morrow held was dread. No more. Oh, definitely not anymore.
It takes an effort to change your mind. Open up. Take a chance. Believe that yes, there is brightness in the future. Lots of it.
A name was coined in those days of dread. One that despite everything kept coming back. Demanding its due. Asking to be seen. Considered. Its truth realised. Its perfect fit accepted.
Two days ago after an engagement with my beautiful Italian hairdresser (who loves the colours I wear and my ‘expressive personality’, so there), I was cycling home and stopped for a while to listen to the birds chattering in the twilight. So lovely. The street lighting switched on and I was just slightly… miffed… at the bright light just behind me, wishing it would go out. Pffft, off it went. Just that one. For a little while I enjoyed the twilight that had returned, laughter bubbling up. When I was ready, I looked back over my shoulder at the lantern in question and said laughingly: ‘Oh, come on!’
Will you believe me if I say it lit up, quite happy to comply? It did.
Magic is a welcome, happy companion in my life these days.
So. There it is. The name by which my creative endeavours will be known:
The White Light Studio.
First used in 2001 (or was it 1999?) when Silence, a collaborative work with my then partner combining photography and poetry, was published. At the time I did not see how good a match it really was. Scoured clean by the years and hopefully a little wiser, it now fits me like a cherished, comfortable old glove.
I’m sure it will only get better.
Healing love sent out into the world
The other side
Oh, there is just not enough time in my days! Yet I believe I have never put my days to better use than I do now…
Rare is the day on which there is not a dye pot simmering on my stove, on which I do not take thread and needle to fabric, on which I do not put pen or brush to paper or find another way to express my soul-expanding joy at having unlocked the gate to my creativity and artistic expression. I had no idea how narrow my life had become until it opened up again.
Boro stitching on denim, using Japanese sashiko thread and a piece of eucalyptus-printed silk
I seem to have stepped into a fractal labyrinth, where every step opens up an infinite number of new paths. Trouble is, I want to follow every one of them and preferably all at the same time – but there is just one of me. Which leads to another lesson: learning to pace myself, something at which I have never been very good. I keep telling myself: You don’t have to do all this now – there is a whole life ahead of you yet, you can do this next year or the year after. After having looked backwards and inwards for so long, I see the future opening up and presenting a joyful array of opportunities once again. I may be growing older (just a little) but inside I seem to have found the fountain of youth.
What can I say? I love feathers.
One thing I have decided for this blog is that I will post more often but spend less time on the individual posts. I tend to brush and polish and check and double-check and I post less often because I know how much time it takes me. So: more posts, less time.
I’ll leave you with these images of an old cotton T-shirt ecoprinted with eucalyptus, which I simmered in an iron bath for a while…
How it came out of the dye pot. The string has since been used to make iron marks on a piece of wool.
Unwrapping the magic…
I love how the string resist shows up in flowing white lines on the heavily iron-marked fabric. This part of the tee was in direct contact with the iron bath, unfiltered by layers of fabric. It makes me think of seaweed floating in water.
One of the things I most love about eco printing is the huge array of colours it produces. While you can influence the outcome, you have no absolute control over the results.
It may be raining cats and dogs outside but in here the sun is still shining…