Tag Archives: sewing

AIMING HIGH – BREAKING OUT OF MYSELF ART

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It’s that tapping hour in my afternoon. I had a very good sleep last night. Having gone to bed at 9:30, I was awake by 5 am. and out of bed before 6. Having sleep and quiet time to myself in the morning makes a huge difference to my well-being and equanimity. The rains and clouds have gone. The sun has emerged with its warmth. I am sipping Orange Pekoe tea, my comfort drink. It’s difficult to change my likes and dislikes. It’s not that I dislike Moringa tea. I like Orange Pekoe more. I will ease into the Moringa tea ceremony slowly. Tomorrow I will give it another go.

My throat is still scratchy. The cough was maddening last night. I decided to use my Nasonex spray for a few days. It’s helping some. The Weather Network confirms that pollen count is high. It seems I’m a fairly accurate weather and pollen barometer. I should learn to doubt less and trust myself more on so many fronts.

The beat and art goes on. I haven’t had much time to do any sewing on my Mrs. Bernina other than cleaning and lubricating her. Once in awhile I run some random stitches just to feel how smooth she purrs. It calms and gives me a bit of a high at the same time. I’m weird, know. I like the sound of the scissors cutting the thread when I push the icon button. It’s my first luxury item. I’m just learning to drive in the self-love lane.

It feels and is a busy summer but I’m going to join Daisy Yellow’s Index-Card-A-Day Challenge, June 1- July 31, 2018 as well as keeping up with 365 Somethings 2018. These challenges are so helpful in the creative process AND so much fun. It’s not a do or die thing. It’s at my own pace. When I push myself, surprising and exciting things happen. I’m aiming to explore different mediums and themes. I like to see if I can break out of habits of being myself.  I want to explode into a different un-me of expressing. I could learn to be a little daring like Van Gogh and Frida Kahlo.

A Cowardly but Respectful Lion

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Yesterday I talked about being brave. But I am still like Dorothy’s cowardly lion in the Wizard of Oz. I’m not quite up to snuff, not up to confrontations. Never have and maybe never will. There’s something not quite kosher with the word, ‘confront’. It does not sit well with me. It implies hostility. It’s not the way I want to interact or behave. The word itself already brings with it anger and other mean spirited feelings. It is the word I am eliminating from my vocabulary right now.

Call me cowardly if you will but I cannot behave contrary to the way I was raised. That is my rock and a hard place. I do not want to absorb all the negativity it generates into my being. It is really not good for my well being. With a little creativity, luck and serendipity, I’ve turned into an alchemist. All my angst, from whichever source and direction they came from are very good fodder. They’ve fuel my painting, sewing, crocheting, knitting and my tap, tap, tapping here. All the frustrations, disappointments, saddness and anger are good compost. They give rise to ideas and visions and hope for a better (my)self. Being a queen of self-help, I always aim for a better version of me. Sometimes I succeed. Lately I’ve been failing. I’m picking myself up, brushing off self pity and getting ready to rise above the dust.

Having tapped out these words, my heart feels lighter if not braver. I will not tiptoe around my own sacred garden/yard/the world. But neither will I stomp around in anger and malice. I will treat my boundary and hers as well with due respect as always. If my beans or other climbing vines climb over the fence, well they are trespressing in the technical term. It matters not that they are not invasive or harming nothing. She has a right to nip the trespasser in the bud. I’ve already informed the weed company she uses that we do not want any spray on our property. That is fair, respecting my property.

The day is almost gone. I’ve spent the afternoon and my excess angst cleaning out my car. All the rubber mats and carpets are taken out, washed and dusted. The insides are vacuumed and wiped down. What took me so long? Why have I been so neglectful? It’s the first time I’ve cleaned the inside since I bought the car in 2009. Sometimes you start one thing, it can lead to another. Life can be wonderful this way. I’m stuck between that rock and a hard place. I’m chipping my way out, throwing out the dirt and pebbles. Now there’s room for Sheba.

What better way to rid the dust after a hard day’s work than a swim. None that I could think of. Though I had only a short time, I made my way to the pool. Twenty minutes was exactly what the doctor had ordered. It was cheered considerably by a thoughtful young man who was the life guard. He still looked wet behind the ears but was wise as Solomon in human relationships. I left with a softer heart than when I came. Thank you ___ . He told me his name but of course, I’ve forgotten already.

 

 

HOW I SPEND MY DAYS

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How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives. – Annie Dillard

I wish I could write such insights as Annie Dillard. But then I’m not a Pulitizer winning authour. She has written many books. I wonder why I haven’t read any of them, especially since so many of them are in the library. I’ve just fixed that, reserving The Writing Life. I thought I should start with just one book. I’m still working on James Mitchener’s The Source. It’s an ambitious read of 1000 pages. I’m only on  page 207. I have a ways to go.

How do you spend your days? I’ve wondered what other people do with their time. I’m always busy it seems. I’m a doddler, poking away at life. Maybe if I speed up a little, I wouldn’t feel so busy. But it’s who and how I am. I need that slow pace to digest and process. So I can’t get up in the morning and hop to it. I have to ease my way with a cuppa tea and a few pages of fiction. Then it’s breakfast. If it is Monday, Wednesday,or Friday I’ll be heading out the door to aerobics. Saturday mornings I used to swim. Then somehow I got tired of always heading out of the door and I stopped. But I kept it up most of the winter.

I’m a homebody so I was glad to read that Annie Dillard is a recluse, albeit a gregarious one. I wish I’m like that but alas, I have no gregariousness in me. It should be no surprise that I don’t do a lot of frollicking with my days. I’m a rather quiet, somber person. I live within rather than without. That is, I contemplate alot. I like to read and muse. I wonder about the universe, why people do what they do. I wonder about the speed of the changes we are experiencing. How long life as we know will last? I wonder what gives meaning to the things we do. What does it matter anyways? I could have more time if I could just cut down all this musing.

You see, I am no fun. I do have fun though. I have numerous, maybe too many hobbies. I like to read and write. That gobbles up tons of minutes and hours in a day if I let it. Even painting my little index cards takes up at least half an hour. More if I’m ambitious. I’ve picked up sewing again. I went out and bought a fancy dancy new machine. It’s no small endeavour. It took time to learn all the ins and outs. Then there’s the organizing – fabric, patterns, projects. I’ve taken a fancy to free motion sewing, creating a picture with stitching. I haven’t thought about quilting yet. I have all the notions – collected through the years. At least I don’t have to go out and shop for material. I have a fabric shop right in my own basement.

I’m tapping here in my space. I’ve just turned the oven on for the roast. There’s a lot to do every day. Roasts to put in the oven, bread to make, lunches and dishes to do. The guy does supper and getting groceries. I start my own bedding plants for the garden. Been doing that for years now. Sometimes I enjoy. Sometimes it’s work. Well, isn’t everything? It’s worth it. It’s nourishing my body and soul. Even the cleaning and washing. It’s taking care of this business of living. What meaning or satisfaction would I get not doing any of this? Sure, I complain sometimes and wish that everything was taken care of for me. That sounds like being in a nursing home, doesn’t it?

It’s time to shut up and do something else now. There’s the dog to walk yet.

 

 

 

MEMORIES ARE MADE OF THESE

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I feel like I’m always mired in my stuff. Once upon a time I had an excuse of working and shiftwork at that. That excuse is wearing thin now that I am retired. AND I have more stuff. Not that I am a shopaholic. Quite the contrary, but I did purchased a new sewing machine just before Christmas. It is quite big with an embroidery module and accessories. I haven’t bought fabric either. I don’t need to since I’ve been stashing them away over the years from – sales, projects, closing out sales, etc. I have the equivalent of 3 big totes. Overwhelming – yes!

Now I am in the process of organizing and making space. It’s difficult to see what I have or don’t have. Everything crammed together. No space to walk, never mind spread the stuff out. This morning I bit the dust (literally) and finished tackling my sewing stuff. At least now there’s room to move – and to create. I can see why sorting and clearing is such a difficult task. Memories are evoked from handling some of the items. Cleaning and sorting the contents of my sewing basket, I remembered my mom gave it to me when I bought my Kenmore. She stocked it with scissors and a few more items.

She taught me how to sew and knit. She must have been a good teacher because usually I’m not good at learning from verbal instructions. I have to read the directions. I have been sewing since high school. I designed and made my graduation gown. I never thought much of it then. It looks pretty good to me now. It gives me pleasure seeing it. I wonder if my mother still has it. I made my sister’s high school grad dress, too. I took special care finishing all the raw seams. I remembered she was recovering from a concussion that spring. She was struck by a car at a pedestrian crosswalk.

These are all good memories. They make me nostalgic, yearning for those bygone days. I didn’t know then how sweet everything was, even the tough times. I feel a tad sad with some regrets. It comes with being human. Who doesn’t have regrets, wanting things that aren’t and can’t be in retrospect? It’s really not a bad thing. It can inspire me towards reaching outward, upward and all around me to make dreams come true. Now for a spot of tea. Sheba and I have made a run to the dog park. We stopped at Sarcan and dropped off some old phones, bottles and cans. We made $8.00. We made space. We are proud.

PURPOSE, PROJECTS AND FOLLOW THROUGH

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The day/life is much easier with purpose. It gives you structure and a starting point. It’s the catalyst that pushes me through the starting gate and onward to the finish line. I’m in a better frame of mind. It’s reassuring that I am not always pooling in my puddles. It only seems so. Once more the sun is shining on me, literally. I have to take off my sweater. It’s that warm.

The words feel more fluid in the warmth. They are flowing with ease from my fingertips. I am at ease in this moment with Sheba sleeping beside me. The sun feels so warm, the tea so good. I close my eyes, inhaling, exhaling..living. I give thanks of gratitude to the wisdom of people like Viktor Frankl, Caroline Myss and Professor Guy McPherson. McPherson, a biology professor believes that climate change from our heavy footprint is destroying our planet beyond repair. Even so, we should not despair. He advises:

 “I encourage people to pursue excellence, to pursue love, to pursue what they love to do. I don’t think these are crazy ideas, actually – and I also encourage people to remain calm because nothing is under control, certainly not under our control anyway.”

Those words resonate with me. I am in pursuit of those goals the best I can. They are my torch on gloomy days, beckoning onward or to sit and rest awhile. I need heroes and cheerleaders to coach me along the way. It’s one thing to get started and another to follow through to the end. I’ve had a bit of practice. It’s easier every day. I get up, dress up and show up the best I can. Some best are better than others. That’s how it is.

What are my pursuits in concrete language? The biggy right now is mastering my new Bernina computerized sewing machine. It would have been wise to do some checking. Too bad I didn’t read this blog before. No matter. I have no buyer’s regret. I have a vision of using it as another medium for my artwork. I was inspired by images of free motion embroidery. They popped into my head one day. I can do that, I said to myself. I trust my instincts and ‘feelings’. So off to the Sewing Machine Store I went.

I’m not off and running yet but it is out of the box. After hours of watching tutorils on YouTube, I’ve bobbined and manually threaded the needle. Haven’t mastered the automatic threader yet. I can turn it on, off, navigate some of computer screen and use the straight and zigzag stitches. Not exactly flying or embroidering but still pretty awesome. I think I’ll go and hem my pants now. Be back tomorrow with more progress – I hope.

 

ADDICTED TO BETTER

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Here’s another afternoon staring at me. My mind is a little alot scattered. It is admirable that I am so keen on learning. Putting too much on my plate can negate all that. It sends my head into a continuous spin. I’m not focused. I have no direction and don’t I know it! Right now I’m dying for a cup of tea. It’s my addiction calling. It would help if I could cut back a bit. Too many cups adds to my aggitation. If I’m too intent on cutting back, it calls me louder. I might as well go make myself a cup.

I’m back with my tea. It would be good if I could just sit but I have things whirling around and around in my head – ‘my goals and projects’. Once upon a time I could just sit and read for pleasure. Now, I’m a bit driven to do everything better. I don’t want any prize ribbons but I am addicted with ‘improvement’. I’m considering a blog on how to do anything better – not seriously.  I am a lost cause on giving as well as receiving directions.

I suppose I could blame everything to this crazy weather we’re experiencing. I feel guilty complaining about blue skies and warm temperature. But it does not feel like December or that Christmas is just around the corner. It is a little disconcerting. Weird weather patterns are here to stay. I better adjust. I want to whine less, do better and more. Can’t help but be my striving self.

What specifically am I striving for? I’m thinking of expanding my artistic endeavours to include quilting and embroidery. Blame it on the quilt show I went to in October. Seeing all the fabulous quilts displayed made me want to do it, too. I believe in listening to the  voices of creation. I have no extra time to sit and ponder. It is time to sew, to explore, experiment and go wild, crazy creatively addicted.