A promising beginning to the day Garden ready with lots of space to get creative Inside studio with lots of materials Outline of day Everyone got stuck in straight awayTwo very productive tables and a very well behaved assistant! The sun and the inks came out Chinese paper, blowing tools and various techniques were shown Time to playAnd we did
Some people really enjoyed themselves!
After a lively chatty lunch, a wonderful collection of collages had grown. We had explored inks, ghesso, stencils, layering and much more
Our beautiful gallery framing the view
Ten new friendships and nine new masterpieces!
And despite the prepared outdoor space, happily it was all created, out of the breeze in a tiny Art Workshop!
Karen H
Debbie
Rose
Tabitha
Helen
Cindy
Jo
Karen K
Mo
A wonderful gallery of creative energy, fantastic joyous mark making and new skills being gathered, good banter, and a lot of laughter. This should be available on prescription!
When I started this blog ten years ago, it began as a way of saying to the world that although my teaching career had changed direction , I was not giving in to my health issues. I wanted to share the new path my small person and I were forging ahead in a new life, free from domestic coercion, and the teaching profession, and juggling single motherhood, chronic pain and arthritis with an Art business .
At the last count, my surgeries have reached around twenty. Various bones have been fused, taken out, mosaicked, replaced, injected, and pysio’d upon. Yes, it has been a rocky road, but we forged ahead each time on new crutches. And for most of the time, she and I managed just fine, even travelling to far flung destinations with two snorkels and a wheelchair. With a little energy and a lot of determination, there was nothing we couldn’t do.
We find a reserve of strength to keep going when that’s the only choice.
Right now, I find myself the right side of a knee replacement , six weeks on and gathering my thoughts for any future recoveries but also wanting to share what I’ve learnt.
For six weeks I have felt very unwell. All the medical professionals kept telling me it was post op fatigue. But I knew it was more than that. My mind was groggy. My me was gone. When my partner got sick too, I felt very vulnerable. Eventually, I persuaded the g.p. to do another blood test, and it turned out that I had been anemic since my surgery; (so much so that at the time they were going to do a transfusion, as the blood count was so low. Even after a few days of taking iron tablets, my thoughts and sense of well being returned. The fear of losing my energy for good subsided. I can’t tell you what a relief this was.
Self care is not the same as self indulgence
Clear niggling jobs that will worry you in recovery-if you can. I knocked my pan in doing a life laudry pre op, cleared a shed of clutter. But personally, I am glad I did now, because I can’t help with heavy domestic stuff and now my daughter has her own storage space which she can deal with herself !
(Not her actual room-I’m not that brave!)
Plan for yourself as if you were having a guest to stay
Carve out a pleasant space to recuperate.
Clear away clutter and unresolved projects . They’ll annoy you as you stare at them day after day! Set up a few things you might like to do.
I put up a clothes rail of my floatiest clothes so there was no rummaging in drawers to do. You don’t want anything tight on your swollen, sore body and it will be tricky to bend. I lived in stretchy pyjama bottoms and t-shirts for the first couple of weeks and loose cotton things if anybody took me anywhere! The floor might feel a long way away at first, so know where your shoes are. Place all your essentials and toiletries above waist height!!
If your loo is upstairs, you might be spending more time in an upstairs room so:
Set up a kettle and tea things like your own bed and breakfast. Gather enough cups and spoons, fill jars with tea and coffee and remember to take up milk at night . (It should last if covered overnight. This is a godsend in the morning, especially if your cohabitants aren’t awake early with post op pain too!
You may get cold easily, or hotter than normal ! Make up the bed in layers of sheets and blankets that can be jiggled about.
Have a bedside drawer or box of useful things near you- pens/ medicines / glasses/ phone/ snacks/phone numbers etc.
Now is not the time to be virtuous
Plug charger in as close to bed/ chair as possible
Have things to do that keep you distracted- drawing/ writing/ online games or a craft. Initially I found I just couldn’t get comfortable anywhere but my bed with an ice pack on my knee. And like Frida Kahlo I surrounded myself with paint and sketchbooks whilst propped up by pillows, and accompanied by various languid cats.
Frida Kahlo bed-bound and painting 1950’s
There is a lot of advice about batch cooking before surgery. To be honest, the nicest thing about not cooking for a week or two is eating things you wouldn’t normally cook. Splurge on nice ready meals as part of your therapy!
Keep on top of pain and pre-order all the usual meds. Time goes wonky afterwards so be your own advocate beforehand.
Carve out a small space outside to get some sunshine
Do not worry that you haven’t achieved anything much. You got another day under your belt. Another day closer to mobile. This is definitely a time for binge watching anything your other half dislikes!
I am here to remind you and (myself if I do ever get more surgery) that the sorest days do pass, that those times when it feels like you’re stuck in a mind-numbing groundhog day never to see the outside world again will change, that this too will make you stronger
There will come a day when knees will bend, or shoulders will rotate, or hips stop clicking; but until then you’re still gorgeous.
Your new knees will soon hold you up at a Rock choir gig!
And even the brain fog which seems never ending and makes each day feel very small; will lift, given time. Keep listening to your own sense of your body.
Iron tablets, chocolate and good friends will always keep you going.
We all feel, when we are out of the loop, even for a week or two; that the world moves on without us, that the gap is closed and we have faded out of the picture. I promise this isn’t true. You are loved, even if you aren’t feeling so keen on you.
Thank goodness for that!!
This was me at my daughter’s age! Maybe a younger me, but I would like to think that she is still in there somewhere, leaping in a different way, but like you; never giving up thinking she can fly.
Have a wonderful week and if you are healing, switch off the world and believe in your wings.
I have a friend who is the same age as me, and she is training for a marathon. Last weekend she won her age group category in a long distance race, regaling its arduous last miles, as myself and my choir buddies listened in awe.
As I recalled my own school sprinting triumphs and then looked down at my trusty walking sticks; I joked that many of us were living vicariously through our fit friend. There were lots of genuine nods of agreement.
I can’t walk without support, and even then I am in pain most of the time. Another round of Surgery is scheduled this year but it is a fact that arthritis will always be my companion.
For me it is essential to rest every day, and I probably rattle with the medication I take to keep my pain manageable and my immune system functioning .
However, I’m also weirdly ok with my lot most of the time. This might not have been the life I planned; but it is my own unique life. And how we perceive what we find on our plate is a choice, as is what to try to change, if we can.
Sometimes life simply stops us in our tracks and our control is gone. The limitations we thought we had were minor compared to a looming new life obstacle.
I have another friend who has been extremely poorly and in hospital for over a year. At times it has felt to him a hopeless situation which would never improve. The strength to sustain good mental health when you and your body are failing to function is terrible and terrifying. It is my belief that his unwillingness to let the bstrds win, and his fight for Scottish independence and his passion has kept his spirit alive and hopefully will prove to the powers that be that he is worth caring for in his own home.
A positive attitude isn’t always easy. Especially when you don’t hold all the cards. But what I do know is that comparing ourselves to someone else is a dangerous habit . In my own work , as soon as I feel the pressure of having to keep up with the Art world or paint in a certain way or be marketable, I lose my focus. It isn’t enjoyable. I make bad art. The flow simply goes.
When I am still, when I am listening to my inner voice and my own thoughts and heart I make my Art. I am in my own world and it doesn’t matter who sees it. When I try and be someone else, I take wrong turnings.
This voice is essential listening. Our intuition gets us through the darkest times and tells us to be kind to our authentic selves. This might not always be easy. The world invades our consciousness every time we pick up a mobile. There are so many options and reasons to feel like a failure. Why bother? Sometimes the more we learn, the less we feel we know.
I’ve done enough running to last a lifetime
Trust in my instincts has got me through the worst of times in my life, having a stubborn kernel of inner strength which kind of knew which way to go, even if it didn’t make sense. Thirteen years ago I walked away from a 13 room house with my tiny child and a carrier bag. It wasn’t safe for us.
Without family I had no choice but to keep the faith in my own ability as a mum to get on with it. I couldn’t waste energy envying those big houses and big lives because despite having had all that myself; those material things and the good health of the young is never assured. I put my superwoman pants on. I fed my Art after she was in bed.
Nobody knows what anyone else’s life is really like behind their door. We imagine that being a faster, healthier, richer, better- at painting water colours, -thinner, more recognised -online version of ourselves will make us fuller and more complete.
Only. We’ve only truly got right now. And the cards we hold in our hand.
The freedom to choose each tiny step is worth more than a thousand possessions. Our vitality isn’t limited to our mobility level and no matter how long it takes, we can get to our own finish line. One step at a time.
From that carrier bag grew a future, which evolved and changed, gathering friendships, possessions, home decor, oodles of creativity, various animals and a partner. (as well as r.a !)
Focusing on the positive and having a bit of crazy mix of patience and spontaneity has gets us all through life. Below is a little write up of our local Art group in the paper.
Recognition is important and wonderful. Celebrating success and sharing Artwork with the world. However, personal success isn’t simply who knows about you when you’re gone, or whether you’ve gone viral: success is how we see who we are right now, recognition of our own hard climbed mountain,s and the steps we have taken towards truly and bravely being free.
Picture by Julie
We are now properly home, seeing the rewards of our labours and filling it with good people. If you had told me how many steps Id have had to take to get here; would I have even begun?!!!
My health hasn’t been so great this year. Something I try to ignore, but am forced to admit defeat to occasionally. My strategy appears to be run as fast as I can, doing all I can in case tomorrow won’t let me. And on those days, when the world carries on running, and I’m on the blocks still; I can still see that none of this existed a year ago.
Walking alone was never going to work for me. I like to create environments that spark joy. To inspire others we must let go of who we think we should be and set our own pace. Letting go of what isn’t working for us and our bodies any more. I am inspired by every single one of my friends and the creativity that blooms in the Art and craft groups. One of the reasons they are so magical, is that each participant holds each other up to the light without blocking it. Everyone gets to shine.
Be proud of how you move along. Slow and steady wins the race. But the view is what we came for xxx
A friend told me she was feeling guilty. She wasn’t her usual upbeat self. Her mojo was gone. She picked up her phone, and put it back down again. Where were her words?
Not just me then!
Do you ever feel like you’re battling on with the traffic on life’s motorway, overtaking disasters, avoiding cliffs, racing to each destination, without allowing yourself to take a break on a b road? Or even admit how some of the drivers around you make your journey even harder; whizzing past the obvious signs to get off the highway because everybody is just going too fast, missing all the interesting places on the way?
Winter has always taken me by surprise . There I am pottering about in a new term , enjoying a ‘warm- fuzzy- apple- in- the- satchel- glow’ of a September morning, another birthday and enjoying the fruits of several trips to the garden centre… when, wham! – its nearly Christmas and I can’t get my hips to co-operate.
Six months has gone past in the blink of an eye . Life has gone on around us, but there were also big changes to contend with this year, and unexpected loss. Life events and consequences threw us off track but we had to keep driving.
Months have passed since my last post. on here. During that time, I lost my brother very suddenly , and supported my family with mental health and changes. Time has moved so fast but also seemed to come to a halt at times. Sometimes real life felt it would be just around the corner…
Memory Garden for David
When those you love struggle. And keep struggling, it’s your struggle too.
When our bodies let us down, and winter starts to bite, creative and emotional fuel can become scarce. It can feel as if we hold the world together with our minds, feeding those under our rooves with not just hot food but patience and constant prayers.
It can be so easy to become isolated. For me, a real life social network beats aimlessly scrolling anytime ! Looking back over the last months; from time spent with family, lots and lots of singing, including the Edinburgh festival with Rock choir, concerts with choir 86, a new cosy craft club at the house and our ever expanding Art group in Highweek (also still exhibiting online every week with our Coldingham Art friends on the Seasparkle gallery, ) we have been fortunate to spend time with fantastic people. Thankyou! You are the best therapy !
My new years resolution is to stop apologising . Which translates as giving myself the credit I would naturally give others. Like you I am my harshest critic . If I struggle with a task I can usually do with ease, and haven’t accomplished for a while, I send myself spiralling into self destruction. And guilt.
In January’s enforced wintering, when my choices to be outside in the cold are limited, I vow to find permission to deviate. To carve out a warm and calm space to paint and heal, to find my words and let my thoughts trundle on once more.
Reflecting on how much has changed in our studio and Art classes, how our home and garden has continued to evolve with painted furniture, craft groups and interior and outside projects, it feels exciting to sit back and plan for future projects.
Instead of asking why that stack of paintings aren’t finished, why not appreciate all that already is ? And how the ripples of inspiration are growing from each original seed.
Every season’s colour, pattern and essence has a corresponding rhythm. A rhythm in us too. Even at half capacity. Even when we think or bodies have let us down, they are simply gathering themselves. Tenacity and drive get us through the shadows. We just need a little reminder sometimes.
My friends
With all my heart I hope you are well . I hope whoever you are wintering with is kind. If you are alone, then even more importantly, be a fabulous companion. I hope you have a few good plans in place for this next year, and that right now you are not in pain, and you are warm. Every year I forget how unwell I feel in the first two months. How the very thought of leaving our home feels scary and at times, insurmountable. How the smallest task some days can be exhausting. How spring feels so so far away, and I am at the mercy of a good weather forecast and a good night’s sleep.
Even warriors get tired. Fairies flail. Seasons affect our disorders. We feel 100% human despite our superhuman efforts. We need recovery, hibernation, tea, pyjamas. Pain killers. Without the support of my friends at events or in classes, or at home, life would be a very different challenge. Be honest with people. You might find that you bring just as much to their table.
Easier said than done .
We hold up the world ! We fire fight and wrestle dragons, we ignore disease and illness. We are last on our own lists.
We are women. ( Or men ) Or parents, sons or daughters or teachers or carers. There isn’t time for illness and we must keep producing things to prove we exist. And keep smiling at the same time.
I resent being the sick version of me. But I am coming to know her. She balances her days differently, but as long as she doesn’t give up, there is merit in her smaller actions, purpose in her consistent creations and patience in her unforgiving bones. She’s pacing herself because soon there will be a sunny day. Somehow the laundry gets done, people eat, presents are found, hugs are given. Not least to those who are slightly more furry in their ways. Constant companions and quite handy for napping with.
Perhaps your engine has been running on empty, but quietly you still move forward; fuelled by the desire to motivate someone struggling, as well as to keep building the big picture that drives you. I know what it feels like to crave calm. And time in the bath without interruption, a day without pain, a night without worry.
Even if you feel unseen, believe that your accomplishments lie in the consistency of your quiet love and kindness, to yourself as much as to those you love.
Every brush stroke is part of the picture.
While we imagine what our lives looks like, in reality, it’s busy doing it’s own thing, swayed by mostly things we can’t control. We aren’t who we imagine people see. We are the habits and patterns we adopt. The things we say, the way we love, the conversations we do or don’t have. Nothing is a given, so we must keep hope alive. embracing not only the new year but who we might become within it. including making scared time for nurturing, pyjama days. We have new shoots to grow, and must be prepared to cut right back on all the outside clatter occasionally , enabling us to flourish even further.
Because it is only when we pause, that we truly see our best accomplishments.
'Some of us are normal Some of us exist Some of us have schedules Some of us have lists '
'Some of us have real jobs Some of us have plans Some of us paint paper Not the side of vans'
Ah but not all purpose finds a nine to five feeding minds with wonder keeps us most alive
Taught a thousand faces Held a thousand hands Squeezed the whole damn rainbow All I make I am
A lie - in feels unholy There's just too much to do Write and paint and teach stuff All we share with you
It could have been the end of hope, those initial diagnoses. A forcing of my hand to halt a career , one that I had worked and studied hard for; I had a structured life . An excellent job, a mortgage in my name, a new life re-built after escaping a tough marriage but leaving a beautiful home) . . I now was alone with a child, responsibility, a career . Everything to be proud of. Everything to lose.
Then I got diagnosed with both types of arthritis .
Early retirement from teaching wasn’t in the plan. Rather than run an Art department, I was being coerced into feeling useless by a council wanting cheaper, fitter staff.
Positivity only gets you so far..
So there we were, a single mum with a 4 page prescription, and a tribunal against an educational society that looked set to trip us up at every turn.
Pain and immobility seemed to be obvious to people only when I was enduring yet another surgery. And of those there were many. Succumbing to an illness set to get progressively worse, it’s constant fatigue and crippling ways should have been inevitable. How could we expect and create a comfortable life now?
Sink or swim?
What would you have shown the little girl holding your hand ?
We won the tribunal. And I took early retirement. (From teaching in High school ) The Freedom we crave when we work every day should have been sweeter. But there are rules.. supplementary income rules. Earning enough in the few hours I felt ok wasn’t possible, and certain income affects other income.
But we weren’t banned from sharing Art. I taught community enterprise Art classes everywhere. Children, adults, Art in Mental health groups, Art in hospitals, and kept making and creating in between the school runs and choir practice. Profit always went back into rent and materials.
Fighting and beating the system was just the beginning. The funds , little that they were , made up the shortfall for a new mortgage, a new life by the sea , and a continuation of creating through various community teaching, two regular blogs and personal creative development. Even covid didn’t stop us. Our Seasparkle classes and zoom art groups carried on throughout the two years we barely saw anyone.
Lupus and arthritis are tricky beasts to explain . If you have any kind of autoimmune disease you will understand, how you can look relatively ok but you feel like you are walking around in the wrong body (if you can walk- which I am personally not great at any more!) Some sunny days you can almost believe you feel fine . Until the meds wear off and a massive wave of fatigue kicks in. Other days, the pain can be so bad you can’t move, cancelling plans, rendering you dependent.
In 2016 I began writing this blog, talking to people about the positive effects of creativity, documenting classes, telling stories through poignant images and photographs . The feedback was so very welcome, and writing became a way of life , along with more illustrative work, painting and the felt pieces I was known for making .
I found the bits of day I had energy -first thing, resting when my daughter was at school, working again in the evening . I taught children and adults in community groups all over Scotland, I organised Art exhibitions and craft fairs . I became Dalkeith arts coordinator, starting new groups when we moved house. I painted and wrote every day. Even in my hospital bed, during extended stays which were common.
The huge move to Devon took enormous patience . Living in tiny chalets for a year while the house was settled . Every day I wrote poems in the bath (my happy place) – painted every morning , taught remote classes for the class I had left in Scotland .
It is amazing what you can do in the smallest slices of time, even when your patience is waning
Moving into this, our hopefully forever home – has been an endlessly creative journey. Not only is the Art on paper, but here is art on the walls, art on the stairs, and yes, art on the side of a caravan …
And now we are creating spaces to make and teach even more art. The journey from dreaming of ‘Liz at the Beach Hut’ to being here, in this warmer climate, has taken many many twists and turns.
And always, the best and most inspiring part is meeting and working with you. No artist is an island. Without the mirror of your creative joy, and productivity, we wouldn’t be where we are. Whether you work from home, remotely or sit in an Art class, you inspire me every week to carry on teaching, learning and being lifted by new friends .
With the boundless energy and support of my partner and best friend, the trials of life continue here as we add to each new project.
Our limitations make us value the time and energy we do have. Each morning is a gift. and because it isn’t always available, we must value our achievements fully. When a friend jokingly said ‘some of us have a job’ ( Didn’t I?) the other day, my first instinct was sadness. I felt too shocked to joke back. But I realise we aren’t aware of each other’s lives, schedules, if you don’t tell people you don’t ever stop working – how will they know?
Sometimes what we do isn’t obvious. Not many of us are great at self promotion. Sometimes it’s the same with how much pain we are in. For me, I have pain all the time, to some degree; sometimes it is mumbling, other times it is so sharp and angry it stops me in my tracks, stops my breath, makes me shake, makes me cry. I don’t feel as able as the world rushing around me. Because I know to some degree I’m not. But I am still whole. I’ve learnt to like me the way I am . Sticks and all. And if you are in ‘The Beach Hut’ physically or as an online friend- there are no exclusions.
Being inspired, inspiring others, making, creating, writing, painting, building and shaping a space to share, connections with likeminded people, a safe place to forget pain and stress for a while- that is more than a full time job.
It is everything …..
Unfortunately and sadly, a little like parenthood – the pay is pretty rubbish !
Our journey has been a long one. At times we have had nothing and nobody. But we had the ability to see and celebrate the little things . In turn they became a body of Art . Wherever life plonks you; whatever anyone else believes is best for you- do what you love, and keep doing it.
In the midst of writing a new year post, it seemed harder and harder to think of how to start. a cold, grey January, ill health and fatigue, swamped the early days of the year; darkening the promised brightness of a new beginning. Surely everyone else was leaping into 2024 sparking joy. In the quiet times, melancholy can steal in, awareness of our pain can deepen, the newness unwrapped at Christmas, can feel packed away in the attic with the tree.
Joy is a flighty fairy. She lurks somewhere just out of reach sometimes, taunting us with promise. I know many of you like me, are immune suppressed, or arthritis sufferers and winter is hard on cold bones. Symptoms flare up, pain is worse and fatigue is constant . Christmas and busy-ness , winter activities and classes, pre festive feasts and the twinkling world around us keeps us distracted from the cooling days . In the strange space between Christmas and new year, the longed-for balm of pyjama days and nothing to do is long anticipated. And then when it arrives, it feels sort of odd, sort of empty ; devoid of routine and people , structure and momentum. Small ordinary things take longer. We are lethargic, days roll into one amorphous void and the light in the sky is often week and watery. If we are slowed down, the new year can start with a bit of a whimper rather than the fireworks we were promised.
In winter we tell visitors our garden has looked better, forgetting the vital process in place underneath which ensures another colourful spring. In contemplating our next blooms we forget to look back on the joys we were privileged to experience; the hidden work still to be undertaken every day to nurture ourselves and everyone else under our wing.
Almost everyone feels a sense of inadequacy in some shape or form, but at this time of year, the intensity of self judgement can get much harsher.
Do any of these feelings sound familiar?
*You just KNOW that everyone else is better at the activity in your group than you / has more real friendships with each other than you/ and probably talk about you when you leave…?
*Your home/ clothes/body are not as trendy/cool/ Insta ready as everyone else ?
*You must be unlikable, due to one or more bullies in your life telling you so ?
*You have achieved much to be proud of but it is never enough ?
*You only ever see your bad bits in the mirror ?
*You only remember who said they didn’t love you ?
*The future is the only place you can succeed ?
Sound familiar? Did you think it was just you ?
This morning I got up at five when my daughter decided the new puppy had kept her awake long enough, fed six animals, cleaned my house, made my apparently ‘sublime!’ mash, wrote this and another blog post, and I am still bashing myself on the head because I haven’t painted yet .
It’s definitely not just you
Our minds naturally veer towards our failures rather than our successes. In balance, having a sense of self-doubt can help a person assess their achievements and abilities, but too much self-doubt can adversely impact a person’s self-image.
This can lead to symptoms of distress known as imposter syndrome, which can affect the following aspect of a person’s life.
a sense of being a fraud
fear of being discovered
difficulty internalizing our success
Being kinder to ourselves at this time of year is essential. Old feelings can resurface in the hibernation time; listen to them, let them go. The old adage of faking it ’til you make it is so true. January is the perfect time to take stock of all you achieved the previous year, appreciating your true self as you are in this very moment, and not a version of who you might be one day.
Speaking to, or writing to friends, even writing to yourself in a journal can help get annoying or lovely or frustrating ideas and worries into perspective. While they live in your head they have the nasty habit of growing out of proportion.
Connecting with others and sharing is vital for our mental health. Friends reflect us, shape us and make us aware of other’s lives and feelings. We get perspective. In early January I wrote a few letters to friends, sending out as much positivity as I could muster, pecking at the icy ground for news and thoughts. I love snail mail , the plop of an old fashioned hand written envelope in the mail box is lovely .
‘Thankyou for your letter, I think I have imposter syndrome‘ my friend said. ‘I needed to hear your words. Your letter made me realise I am loved , after not quite believing I deserved to be. (This woman is an awesome granny with a camper van) ‘I suddenly realised that I should start listening to more than just my own head..’
( And this person is one of MY HEROES!!)
We all think our friends have it sussed and they saunter about, feeling confident with their life laundry checked every day . But they are often as vulnerable and in need of support as we are. The tiny things we do for others can have a huge impact , reverberating ad-infinitum if given with grace and love.
Forget the future plans and vision board for a moment, sometimes we need to take time to appreciate where we are now and where we have been . There may be poetry to finish, cupboards to clear, Art to be sold, teenagers to organise, pets to feed , and operations to plan for , but for my family right here ; a year ago; none of our world existed!
For us, looking back, it has been a creative and chaotic journey between last year and now . Since we moved in at Easter our house has taken up most of the time, unearthing and unveiling new secrets, new plants, and stone floors and bringing colour to forgotten corners ..
This busy year had followed a very insular time, kept alive purely by faith and patience in making it happen. When your wardrobe is the car and your studio is your lap, things can only get better! A year ago many of the friends we have now were still strangers ! I am so pleased to be part of two amazing choirs – Rock Choir and Choir 86 and of course our wonderful Art groups ❤️
In between the painting, singing, teaching, and co-ordinating this crazy home, there’s a fur family to cuddle. The newest addition is 12 week old, Border Collie, Mabel❤️
The culmination of many many early mornings over the previous year; between drawing and writing, found me twiddling away creating a website. We are delighted to show you our fabulous new shop, where an ever growing range of unique cards and prints are now available to purchase.
Now of course the schedule revolves around nap times!
Last year enabled so many building blocks to be laid, embedding routines where there was change, a sense of permanence after re-rooting . New plants and friendships are budding as Imbolc looms; and words and marks are growing into a cohesive body of work in our new life in Devon. And yes, Even though those things are true, still there are days where it doesn’t feel real.
We all have a little imposter syndrome. I am still waiting to feel like a grown up, berating my body for what it can’t do; instead of applauding what it can. I, like you, will almost certainly feel like I didn’t do much today. Although in fairness I could win a prize for mopping up puppy wee.
What I am continually learning, is that nobody sees your life as you do, any more than you truly know how your face looks. All the greatness I am inspired by in friends, they waive off as normal or nothing, as I see the flash of their superhero capes under their jumpers.
Remember, the stranger in the street you feel judged by, is almost certainly plagued by their own self doubts. If today is grey, remember when it was sunny. It will be again.
Look back kindly, face forward gently.
Especially wonderful, amazing you.
Thank-you for your support and readership this year . May it be a kind and creative one, filled with friendship.
Softly she falls, a girl, tumbling, slow.
Kissed by each glistening web as she goes.
Paper her wings, diamonds her eyes,
Gazing through leafy, blue glimpses of sky.
Snatches of songs sound,
time softly fades.
Windows flung open as years are replayed.
Sharper and brighter than ever they were,
She is the mirror reflected in her.
Clearer her senses, kinder her eyes:
Shaking off each heavy, dusty disguise.
Knowing herself as she knew all along,
Venturing forward, with courage so strong.
All that she searched such an age to unearth,
She’s finding in places, not tied to her birth.
Little by little each piece is restitched,
A tapestry woven from every last wish.
Skin may be loose now,
hair not so bright;
But here still,
the child;
trading dreams in the night.
Little by little, she paints every stroke.
Watching her fears, softly vanish, like smoke.
Every sense woken, she’s watching her hands.
Sculpting her future on firm golden sand.
No longer falling but flying through space.
Walking each step with her back to the race .
LW
Take a rusty old birdcage found at the recycling. See it’s potential.
Sand away surface rust and dirt.
Lay a dust sheet under the birdcage. Use hard-wearing spray paint suitable for metal. Leave to dry between coats until both inside and out are covered.
Now for paper mache birds. You will need modroc plaster bandages, water, scissors, wire, newspaper, card, masking tape and a glue gun. (or you could just buy ready made model birds! )
Scrunching up a body from newspaper, attach a similar ball for the head with masking tape. Form a beak using tape too. Push wire through the body and out the other side to form legs, twisting the feet into however many toes you need.
Multi task building up layers of soaked modroc on your model, whilst simultaneously cuddling guinea pigs.
Some areas of your model might need tiny pieces of modroc.
Leave to dry and then begin layering coloured tissue paper with a mix of 50%water/50% pva brushed both under and over each layer)
Add more layers whilst learning your choir lines!
Paint details and textures with acrylic paint.
Don’t forget the feet!
Add lights and leaves to your birdcage.
Add feathers and more detail.
Leave to dry.
Add loops for hanging.
Glaze with modpodge varnish
Be unique.
If you can get your birds to stay in their cage please do put them there, sometimes though, they might just find their way back out again…
Caught you!
Not you as well. !!
Your birds will work equally well in and on your cage, lit up with your fairy lights.
Experiment with lights and greenery. Keeping any naked flame or hot bulbs away from plastic and paper.
