catherinemeyersartist

Creative Mothers/ Family of Origin/ Family of Choice

2013-05-11T20:02:00.003-03:00

My mother was a piano player, and a singer. One of my most vivid memories as a little girl, was of her playing the piano, while I, in an ethereal state of mind, imagining I was a wonderful ballerina, as I swirled, twirled myself, and with arms flailing, moving all around the living room. She didn't blink an eye, but simply applied her talent and serious attention to supporting this budding ballerina..
Much later in life, when we would talk about this, and laugh, she admitted to me, she would sometimes have to leave to room laughing. I never had a clue. We were often involved in these ballet performances together, whether it was in our living or in a theatre hall, which she would take me to at Christmas to see Swan Lake or the Nutcracker. She knew how much I loved dance,and she appreciated any kind of creative and cultural activity, be it musical, theatre or art.

Once I'd disappeared into the basement, where I constructed and painted an odd looking wooden giraffe. She was thrilled regardless of odd. For years into my adult hood she'd always proudly display my strange abstract art, and self portraits. My mother always supported my creativity, and desire to study art, making sure I had early art lessons with painting supplies. She was a very creative person. Her own creative endeavors always inspired, and encouraged my own pursuit of artistic goals. She never once discouraged me with statements like, " You'll never get a job being an artist " or " Why would you want to become an artist, you'll never make any money at that. ", and all the other kind of negative and soul crushing messages children hear, especially if they want to become some kind of an artist.

Having grown up during the great depression, my mother was unable to attend University and pursue her dream of studying music, at Mount Allison University in Sackville, New Brunswick. She was able to get music lessons and played for years in Church, at various venues around, and was able to even make a little money at it.

When we would come back to the Maritimes from Ontario, we'd head over to Westcock to the little Anglican Church, nestled in the woods, where our Milner family Bible is, and she'd commence to playing that old pump organ. It is a beautiful memory.
She was very talented with her hands, always finding time to make hats, socks, rugs etc. She had the great patience to teach me knitting and crocheting, which is not and easy thing to do, with a rambunctious child. Fortunately, I was a fast learner with dexterous fingers. I always found it fascinating that my mum was ambidextrous using her left and right brain.

When we lived in Toronto I remember a very special day. It was raining and she decided we'd spend the day together and we went to a puppet store. I was crazy about puppets. I thought I'd died and went to heaven and she really was the best mum in the world to me. She bought me a marionette of a Flamenco dancer. Oh she was beautiful!

This Mother's Day, like most folks, I am thinking about my mother, and though she has left this mortal coil, unbelievably, almost twenty years now, I think of her often and miss her always, especially this time of year.

My mum, Sarah Helen (Milner) Meyers was not a feminist, as she grew up in a time when the word didn't exist. She was an amazingly strong and good woman, in that she brought my brother and I up mostly single handed, working hard as a receptionist, from the time I was a toddler, and made her way through life in spite of the many very difficult obstacles she had to over come, and deal with. She helped and allowed me to find my own way, instilled, and imparted her strong faith, and good values, that I aspire to live up to through her example.
I am forever grateful to her. She was not perfect, but she was perfect for me. I love and miss her so much and I carry her close in the heart of my heart everyday, and I hear her gentle voice guiding me often.

On Saturday, November 18th, 1995 my mother died. I had come home early from a meeting with a treat for her and found her barely breathing and not conscious.
The same day my mother was dying in hospital, my father was also admitted after having alcoholic induced psychosis. He wasn't aware my mother was dying a floor below him. We had been separated for 26 years and recently had been reunited, after I hunted him down.

At this time, throughout that year, I had been keeping my first life changing morning pages journal, a companion book to Julie Cameron's book, The Artist's Way . My daily writing in this journal allowed me to process the great grief of losing my mother, and closest life friend.
I also had a year into my own recovery from alcoholism. When the first year after my mother's death rolled around, I didn't know what to do, nor know how to process my deep grief. I was at a complete loss, and very close to a breakdown. It then suddenly dawned on me to go back, and read what I had written on that November day.
It was a healing balm, like God was speaking through my own written words to comfort. It gave me such a strength and peace of mind to cope with so much.

That day, I'd also found the one and only recording I done of my mother playing the piano in our living room, which she did everyday, even when she lost her eyesight to macula degeneration late in life. She then through memory, and a good ear, taught herself to play again without her sheet music. Hearing her play that music once again, was very consoling and helped me to grieve, to begin the long healing process.

I would love to tell you things got better from here on in, but they didn't. I went on to have an emotional breakdown, that no one but me, and those morning pages, knew about, and I hid it all very well, or so I thought, especially from myself. How wrong I was. What followed but a shit load of hard emotional work, through the help and support of three different 12 Step programs, where I found many mothers, fathers, brothers and sisters; my family of choice, through the fellowship of a God given program ,for over the past 18 years.

Westcock/Brittish Settlement Kids - near Sackville, New Brunswick

Today I had a lovely visit from a dear, sweet, and long time friend who I don't get to see very often, as she lives far away. She has become like a sister to me.
We had a heart to heart talk at the kitchen table, over a hot cup of tea, about our mothers, our own lives and broken hearts.
I told her how truly very grateful I am, having had such a loving, beautiful, kind, trusting, forgiving and compassionate mother. I know there are many of us that do not. We can not choose our relatives. However the family we are born into, does not have to dictate to us, who we are. We have a choice, whether to be nurture a bitter root that will grow, invade and choke out our lives, or we can put ourselves, and our souls, into having a kind and giving heart, that will help to heal our wounds and even the wounds of others. We can also have families of choice, that can give us what we need.

After my friend left this afternoon, I thought to myself, I am going to email her, tell her how much I love her, and what she means to me. Then the door bell rang, it was her! She had returned, baring gifts and I was able to tell her face to face! We both hugged, shared a few tears and talked again. I gave her some books to read, that I thought would help her.
I have learned if you feel love, show love, and act on it.
As we exchanged our goodbyes, we both acknowledged we were feeling better.

Whomever you mother/father/sister or family is, tell them you love them, show them what they mean to you, you'll all feel better for it.

I am happy to share this picture of my Amaryllis that bloomed in a very timely fashion during this Mother's Day weekend. I like to think it did so just for my mother.

Happy Mother's Day Sarah Helen,

and to all of our mothers.

Sebastiao Salgado

2013-05-03T11:29:00.002-03:00

Yesterday while listening to Q, with Jian Ghomeshi, I heard an interview with wonderful, compassionate human being, and photographer I never heard of, or knew about. His name is Sebastiao Salgado. When I went searching for his work online, I was even more amazed by his photography, and his social conscience as an artist, preserving, and promoting the care of the good earth, documenting pristine environments throughout the world, and working toward the protection of the cultures, found in these remote, and isolated areas.

Sebastiao Salgado has his Masters Degree in economics. He later turned his interest and passions toward documentry photography and photo journalism. Along with his very accomplished wife Leila Wanick Salgado, an artist/teacher/musician/architect and urban planner started their own company Amazonas Images. The company is primarily involved in promoting Sebastiao Salgado's photography.

I am not terribly surprized that he was an economist that became an artist. Presently the word economics has been misconstrued to mean something entirely different than it's true meaning. When most of us hear the word economy or economics we immediately think in terms of monetary concerns. I recall what environmentalist/scientist David Suzuki said about the root word of economy, relating it to the home, eco, referring to our habitat, climate, biology and of their careful usage and protection.

Sebastiao Salgato without a doubt, has a very deep understanding of the real menaing of economics. His most recent project entitled, Genesis is at the UK Natural History Museum from April to September 2013. It is described as being an hommage to the earth.

I am so glad I have learned about Amazonas Images and the Salgados! They are an amazingly talented, admirable, compassionate team, and beautiful couple.

Mary Pratt - The Love of the Simple Things

2013-04-28T19:51:00.001-03:00

While slothfully lying in bed as I often do Sunday mornings, my ears were glued to the radio listening to a CBC inteview with Canadian artist, Mary Pratt. I don't know when it was I first became familiar with her work, but I know when I first heard her speak, I felt so much affection for her, because she has one of those infectious personalities that makes you feel like you know this person, as a friend. Every time I'd hear her I'd feel more this way, and this morning it was no different. Her wit, humble nature, and talent is so wonderful to me, which causes me to long for the chance to meet her one day.

What struck me most about what she said, was her attitude toward loving and appreciating the simple things around us in our everyday lives. It made me think once again about simplicity, which has been on my mind a lot lately.

This is one of Mary Pratt's realistic renderings. Just amazing how beautifully and skillfully she captures the light and colour.

A close and long time friend of mine just sent me one of Anne Lamott's recent books entitled, Help. Thanks .Wow. The Three Essential Prayers. Anne Lamott is one of my very favourite non-fiction authors, because she makes the simple deeply meaningful, with a real honest attitude and she has great sense of humour and humanity, as does Mary Pratt, who depicts her subject matter, as being what the stuff of every day life is made up of.

As I age, I increasingly realize as time passes, how important it is to keep it simple, to find love, pleasure, and gratitude in the present moment. Finding happiness and contentment wherever you find yourself, and to grow, flourish and even thrive where you are planted.

Our lives in this world can be, and have become complicated in so many ways. We are either regreting the past or projecting into the future. We say I'd be happy if, or I'll be happy when, always looking outside of ourselves in search of that elusive happy state of mind.
Striving to capture and hold that present moment in time, or having a mindfulness with appreciation, relishing every bit of happiness with what we have, and being grateful to be able to do this, is what brings me happiness.

My day wasn't completely slothful. I had a simply enjoyable afternoon of making more rope baskets sitting on the front porch is the sunshine. Here's what I been making this week and into the weekend.

End of My Rope and All Tyed Up in Knots

2013-04-22T16:23:00.000-03:00

I've not been painting for some time, a few months now, and admittedly I've been in a slumpydydump-dump-dump. I just made that word up. Being sick with a rotten cold hasn't helped after this long drug out Winter. However I've managed to continue my blogging and journaling long hand. Yesterday and today I have finally felt like actually tackling a few projects, like cleaning up the garden and the yard and making some pots and containers from rope I collected while I was doing sculpture at school over the past three years.

It was great to get outside in the sunshine, listening to all the birds an bugs flying around.

I put the rope in the tub to wash so I can use the next couple of batches I have. Hopefully is will soften it up some too. It can be rough on the hands.

This is what I have made since yesterday. The tops are knots. A Turks Head knot actually, I used for the lids of the containers. Knot tying for me is very addictive. Of course I'm try addicted. Anything I try I'm pretty much addicted.

The most fascinating and wonderful book I have read about the science and trust me it is a science and ancient one at that, is entitled The History and Science of Knots.
Here is the online write up I found that gives the description fo the books contents. It is edited JC Turner and P.van deGriend.

This book brings together twenty essays on diverse topics in the history and science of knots. It is divided into five parts, which deal respectively with knots in prehistory and antiquity, non-European traditions, working knots, the developing science of knots, and decorative and other aspects of knots.

Its authors include archaeologists who write on knots found in digs of ancient sites (one describes the knots used by the recently discovered Ice Man); practical knotters who have studied the history and uses of knots at sea, for fishing and for various life support activities; a historian of lace; a computer scientist writing on computer classification of doilies; and mathematicians who describe the history of knot theories from the eighteenth century to the present day.

In view of the explosion of mathematical theories of knots in the past decade, with consequential new and important scientific applications, this book is timely in setting down a brief, fragmentary history of mankind's oldest and most useful technical and decorative device — the knot.

Contents:

Prehistory and Antiquity:
- Pleistocene Knotting
- Why Knot? — Some Speculations on the First Knots
- On Knots and Swamps — Knots in European Prehistory
- Ancient Egyptian Rope and Knots
Non-European Traditions:
- The Peruvian Quipu
- The Art of Chinese Knots Works: A Short History
- Inuit Knots
Working Knots:
- Knots at Sea
- A History of Life Support Knots
Towards a Science of Knots?:
- Studies on the Behaviour of Knots
- A History of Topological Knot Theory of Knots
- Trambles
- Crochet Work — History and Computer Applications
Decorative Knots and Other Aspects:
- The History of Macramé
- A History of Lace
- Heraldic Knots
- On the True Love Knot
- and other papers

Readership: Mathematicians, archeologists, social historians and general readers.

The Ashley Book of Knots is amazing and beautifully illustrated.

Even apes have been known to tye knots. It's true. I know millions would never believe me but I know you do!

The Art of Michael R. Gaudet:Near-Death Experience Fuels Quest for Immortality

2013-04-13T12:39:00.000-03:00

I am very happy to be able to share this post with my readers. It is about a fellow artist and long time friend from my days at the Nova Scotia College of Art and Design.
Michael Gaudet has a poignant, inspiring and I believe an important story to tell, and that people need to know.

I first met Michael in the early eighties and immediately loved his infectious personality, his enthusiasm and love of life. At the time I didn't fully comprehend what he had overcome in his young life. I had struggles of my own.

Many artists struggle with obstacles in our lives. We make decisions around how we will cope with them. We can survive, in spite of the wounds life inflicts, or we can thrive because of them. Michael has thrived and I am proud to call him my friend.

The Art of Michael R. Gaudet: Near-Death Experience Fuels Quest for Immortality:...: Today I was excited to hear that my guest post " Near-Death Experience Fuels Quest for Immortality: An Artist's Story " is pu...

Artisan Studios Nova Scotia | Arts & Crafts | Artists

2013-04-11T13:52:00.001-03:00

Artisan Studios Nova Scotia | Arts & Crafts | Artists

Studio and Garden: Traditional Maple Sugaring

2013-04-09T20:29:00.001-03:00

Studio and Garden: Traditional Maple Sugaring: A sure sign that winter is loosening its grip is when the sap begins to flow in the sugar maples. People start excitedly asking &qu...

Hedwig Gorski - Performance Poet - Nova Scotia Teenager

2013-04-07T17:24:00.000-03:00

Not being an academic, nor having the educational opportunity to really understand or appreciate poetry or literature in high school, I wasn't able to fully comprehend the depth of feeling of empowerment and change one can have from poetry, prose and literature.

What appreciation I did develop as an adult, I can attribute to my life long friend, who lived and breathed books, especially literature, romantic poetry and prose. While I was out dancing and carrying on as a wild teenager, growing up in Nova Scotia, my friend was busy holed up at home, reading.

My childhood friend somehow managed to turn me on to Keats, Shakespeare, Yeats and Dylan Thomas and the like. I am very grateful for this, because it could have been a very different scenario had I not grown up in a family that loved to learn.
My friend and I had both been students in grade nine together, with an English teacher from Hell, and I use the word teacher, very loosely. She announced to her young charges on the first day of class, that she, was supposed to teach grammar, and with a long pause, English literature. This information was followed up immediately by her statement, "I hate literature!" Nothing more, nothing less, no further explaination or reason. She'd made it very clear and I could hardly believe my ears.

However, in spite of, or perhaps because of, I think this may of instilled in me an unconscious refusal of sorts to not hate literature. She was not going to dictate to me what I was or wasn't going to like! I knew literature was more interesting to me at this point, rather than grammar, which she tried to hammer and punish into our pitiful pubescent heads! At one point half way through the year, she had locked all of our books up in the cupboard at the back of the room, with thick chains hanging from the cupbooard door handles, because most of the class had failed our grammer. Oh how inspiring school English class was as a teenager!

As a young girl, having the desire to express myself through writing and loving words, which develop into a thirst for knowledge, and a love of learning, certainly all came together for me, and was highlighted in a wonderful English class with Emeritus Professor Michael Thorpe, when I returned to University at Mount Allison in Sackville New Brunswick, to complete my Bachelor of Fine Art Degree at 56 in 2009.

I had the privilege to be a student of Professor Thorpe's Romantic Poetry class. Right from England he was, and next thing I knew, I was feet first studying and writing papers about Blake, Wilfred Owen, T.S. Elliot, Keats, and the whole romantic poetry soup! I passed the course, but oh, it was a real struggle, and one of the very best of my life long learning experiences! Professor Thorpe is a magnificent teacher who loves poetry, and English literature and I am so grateful and humbled to have been his student.

As a young girl, having the desire to express myself through cursive writing and loving words, which continued to grow into a thirst for knowledge, and a love of learning certainly was highlighted in Professor Michael Thorpe's class.
Simultaneously I enrolled in a Linguistics class. To say Linguistics for me was a challenge, would be an understatement.

When I informed Professor Thorpe I was enrolled in a Linguistics class, he rolled his eyes and empathetically, said me when he was teaching abroad, Linguistics was a prerequisite for students obtaining their English degree. When arriving at his English class, after coming from Linguistics class, his students expressed such a frustration, and he said they had become quite jaded.

I told my Linguistics Professor that it took a certain type of brain to study this stuff, and well, I didn't have that brain! Regardless, it was a great thing to learn about Noam Chomsky, and about the many aspects of Linguistics, but to hell with the cursed linguistic alphabet! I know I'm jaded!

My mother loved to read and was always a word smith of sorts, in that she loved words, spending endless hours doing daily crosswords, emphatically correcting my grammar and telling me to," look it up in the dictionary!" She'd often express her frustration with those especially in the media, that she would frequently make a point to mention, when they had from time to time, mispronounced or misused words. This I would say, left an indelible impression on me, as I find I have inherited her similar frustration.

I am grateful she imparted her love of words and language to me, though when I was a teenager I thought it was a curious quirk my mother had, however it gave me a greater appreciation for the English language, enabling me to communicate effectively, and to read and write more critically, and discerning truth from fiction. I truly have come to believe language, the written word, is a powerful tool for change.

In my last post, I talked about my late friend Barbara England and how her unpublished paper written back in 1976 was an impetus for political change at NSCAD, during the 70s and 80s. I got thinking about our mutual friend, who was also very instrumental in making change happen at that time at NSCAD, and was involved with of our Woman's Group. I recently reconnected with her through the miracle of the Internet. Her name is Hedwig Gorski. She is a woman I could never forget, as she was a stunning beauty to me, and had an inner strength about her that I never comprehended or knew about until now, having reconnected with her, and finding out just what she has accomplished. Hedwig was older than me by about four years, as was Barbara England. Looking back I was very naive and they both had much to teach me. I have since found out she is wonderful Performance Poet, and I have posted a particular video piece she produced, that I really love and it has particular meaning to me coming to and growing up as a teenager in Nova Scotia.

It's a very gratifying, consoling, and healing thing for me to be able to have found out some information that exists online about our beloved friend Barbara, and I am very happy to have found Hedwig and to know she is very much alive, more amazing, beautiful, and stronger than ever. I hope you enjoy Hedwig Gorski's Performance Poetry, Teenager In Nova Scotia.

"Let me assure you; I am the last one you would expect to be in a position of authority; abused, rejected, poor, a woman, a member of a dozen differnet minority groups discriminated against in this world, which can be for the corporate greedy and walled bureaucracies a site of stolen might and privilege. I am a minority within a minority within invisible minorities. You would expect me to be an ant. But I am an educated American woman with a voice for the lowly creating an artistic world that floats on top of opposing opinion as well as the status quo cartels that systematically ignore or hate me. No enemies could betray me more than my own embedded insecurities, which are brutal and cruel, an attitude that mirrors an indestructible, aphoristic Slavic heritage. What else is poetry? "

Hedwig Gorski

What Will Your Legacy Be?

2013-04-05T16:54:00.001-03:00

Over the past month, I have been thinking about my late, dear friend, Barbara England. She suffered with bi-polar disease, and eventually lost her battle with mental illness, and died in the 80s. She had me helped greatly with her love, compassion and understanding, at a time when I myself was struggling emotionally, and mentally after the sudden death of my new husband, due to schizophrenia, during my last year at NSCAD between 1979-1980. She was not only a wonderful friend, but truly, one of my greatest mentors as a woman, and as an artist.

Barbara England was a Masters of Fine Arts student, and at the forefront of the feminist movement at NSCAD. We were both involved with the women's group at the school. She'd written and presented a very important, and unfortunately unpublished paper, entitled An Examination of Masculism at NSCAD, that catapulted many of us young women involved in activism, art, and feminist issues during the 70s at the Nova Scotia College of Art and Design. The paper now is archived in the NSCAD library, and I believe was presented to the President of the University, Garry Kennedy from the Woman's Group, at that time.

I wanted to write a post about Barbara England, to express just what she meant to me, and to share with others the legacy she left. I wasn't sure what I was going to write, but I began to contemplate and consider the legacies we all leave, and ask myself what is the legacy I want to leave?

Several attempts to find out any information about Barbara England, left me empty handed, until finally I found pdf file " The Maple Leaf" where she is attributed with writing this unpublished paper.

"Of course, at the time, this denigration of women artists was hardly particular to NSCAD. It is not a proud part of its history, as Garry Kennedy has recently acknowledged when noting that the stinging rebuke sent by telegram from New York for not including any women at the College. While some improvements in the representation of women were made in the 1970s by the time the Lithography Workshop closed in 1976 the number of women participants remained dismal (six out of a total of 79, or 7.6%) and by the late 1970s, only two women were on the regular studio faculty. The real impetus for change came instead from the circulation of an unpublished paper written in 1976 by MFA student Barbara England and entitled " An Examination of Masculism at NSCAD." This text galvinized students to demand changes resulting in a symposium " Women In Art " in July 1978 and the appointment of Dara Birmbaum and Martha Rosler as spring term faculty in 1979. Roseler who supplied a vigorous female critique of both art and its institutions were especially infleuential. The students also successfully lobbied for the hiring of full-time faculty members in the early 1980s and for the increased presence of women in the Visitors Program."
- Jane Wark
Department of Historical and Critical Studies
NSCAD

It saddens me to think about the legacy Barbara England left NSCAD, and very few even know who she is, and what she contributed to the art world. I also found the following information from an interesting compilation about NSCAD, by Bruce Barber entitled, NSCAD-The 80s.

"Among the women ( many of them MFA students) associated with the production of feminist work in the 80s were Barbara England who produced a Date book as her MFA Exhibit in 1976, a diary with dictionary actions/statements. "

I sat on thoughts about Barbara England and legacy until last night. I was sleepless, listening as usual, to international radio programming, as I often do. This programming can be very educational and informative but by times, can also be very disturbing. The alarming reality of what is happening throughout the world invades my consciousness in my semi-wakened state. I will more than likely not remember all of what I have listened to, unless it really stands out in my mind. This is just what happened last night, when I heard about Giles Duley. I knew I had to remember his name in the morning, and proceed to do a search on line to find out about this remarkable man, and talented photographer who is certainly leaving his own legacy.

Thinking about what makes a life worth while, what legacies are left behind when we leave this mortal coil, and how very grateful I am to have had several people that have touched me with the legacy they have left behind. I will never will forget them. That said, people shouldn't mean more to us after they have died. It seems to be human nature, that you don't know what you've got til it's gone, like Joni Mitchell said in her song. It certainly doesn't have to be this way, especially if we choose to love, appreciate who we have, and what we have, in the present moment. What a better world it would be, if we did so.

Artists are more often than not, dead and long gone before people appreciate them unfortunately. It is very important I believe, to pay close attention, and take notice of people and artists when they are alive, because many have important life lessons to convey about who we are as human beings. Giles Duley for me is one such inspiring human being and artist, who is very much alive and living life to the fullest. His very close brush with death has given him a strong will to live, to thrive, and I believe reflects his deep gratitude and appreciation for life. He imparts this in his portrayal of his subject matter, of those that have a story of life to tell. Giles Duley enables this story to be told, portraying those who suffer, and have suffered profoundly, which is seen in his very moving and powerful photographs.

"These photographs remind us of our humanity and of the need for understanding and compassion if we want a peaceful world and a just one. The great English poet John Donne once wrote, 'No man is an island.... any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.'
What he said in words, Duley's compelling photographs tell us in pictures. They are a must for anyone who values the unity, tragedy and potential of the human condition."

Rt Hon. Lord Ashdown

What is the legacy I wish to leave as an artist? I hope to leave this world a more peaceful one, a more just world, through understanding, compassion and love.

Today I also am thinking about about my fellow friend of Bill W., Roger E. who took his "leave of presence" and certainly left his legacy.

Easter Seeds

2013-03-31T23:14:00.001-03:00

More than any other time of the year, there is no other season I love and cherish more than Easter, for so many reasons. Perhaps my Celtic heritage runs deep through my blood, or the remnant part of unconscious memory of my soul, Equinox, Spring, and new growth all contribute to my love of Spring.

I am always anxiously awaiting the chance to garden, and get my feet and hands deep into the soil with the warmth of sunshine.

It makes me think of many fond memories, of times spent with my mother, who played the organ in Church while I was in Sunday school. Every year just before Easter, we went on the hunt for the traditional Easter Bonnet. I loved this activity so much and it's something I really long to do again. Not an easy thing trying to find an Easter Bonnet these days!

I remember reading a wonderful story in The Telegraph newspaper, about some women in Nova Scotia who had "hattitude". I wrote a post about this on Easter Day, April 24th, 2011 .
These beautiful women loved to wear their Easter Bonnets, and see it as an essential tradition at Easter.

Of course, I am always so anxious to get gardening. I love to peruse Vesey's Seeds catalog, that appears in my mail box around February. I sure look forward to some serious gardening, a wonderful meditative, and reflective activity, that contributes to my creative process as an artist.

The seed is a remarkable living thing. I found this song by one of my favourite country artists, Kathy Mattea. The lyrics describe how we are all like the seeds in God's hand, a great analogy for this wonderful season of Easter and Spring.

Speaking of seeds and growing living things, recently I have become very excited about permaculture. I first heard about this a few years back and now I want to learn all I can applying the tenants and principles of permaculture philosophy; Earth Care, People Care, and Fair Share.

There are several sites to be found on line, but the one I am most fond of is permacultureeducation.com a complete and comprehensive, creative resource, that offers courses on line. Personally I learn by doing and being able to apply what I learn is vital. Permaculture for me, is a life style that has the potential to make things right with ourselves, with others, with the earth and with the greatest artist of all, The Great Creator.

“The most remarkable feature of this historical moment on Earth is not that we are on the way to destroying the world - we've actually been on the way for quite a while. It is that we are beginning to wake up, as from a millennia-long sleep, to a whole new relationship to our world, to ourselves and each other.”
~Joanna Macy

Happy Easter friends. May you always care for the earth, care for one another and give your fair share. If you can find a great Easter Bonnet you'll be lookin' good too!

Creativity - Be Patient...Just Because...

2013-03-22T21:59:00.003-03:00

As a little girl I was taught by my mother how to crochet, as was she was taught by her mother and my great, great, grand mothers. I wanted to learn, and fortunately she was able to teach me, patiently. I'm sure it was a pain staking process for her at times trying to convey the intricate workings of a crochet needle, how to hold it, along with the numerous single, double and triple crochet stitches I struggled to make.

When I was a student art teacher, part of my practicum was to teach art of course. I can attest to knowing how patience is a much needed virtue to possess when teaching and learning how to crochet. It will certainly let you know in a hurry how much patience you have or lack. I found this out when on one such ocassion I had the lovely opportunity to teach little girls how to crochet at Sacred Heart Convent, which was then a private girls school, in Halifax, Nova Scotia. The girls and I both learned important lessons about patience together.

I haven't been painting the past few weeks and I have been a little critical of myself for that which I needn't be. Just because I'm not painting right now does not mean I am not being creative.

I often crochet when I stop painting. I find it a meditative activity, and it gives me this generational connection with my mother and grandmothers on both sides of my family, when I think about why I love to crochet. The threads ground me to the cycle of life, and I'm bonded to my family tradition of being creative, in whatever form that takes. Writing, sewing, drawing, painting, singing, dancing, playing an instrument, cooking, baking, gardening or just paying attention to life in a creative and open mindfulness gives a person the opportunity to experience creativity.

This is what I love about being an artist, because it really is an attitude toward life, and not always, simply or even necessarily an aptitude or talent.
So next time you think you aren't creative just because you can't draw, paint, and all the other misconceptions people have about art and creativity, I suggest to you that it is a way of life, an approach to life, accessable to everyone, any where, and at any time, if you pay close attention, be patient with yourself, keep an open mind and an open heart.

I have been working on this crocheted project over the past month. I made this cotton top without a pattern, just because I wanted to, and I can't help being creative, and it's what I wanted to do...just because. Now I have a practical wearable art piece!

There is a vast array of youtube videos online that I'm sure can help to teach you how to crochet, but I suggest you find a patient individual to show you how to crochet you might not learn how to do it, but I guarantee you learn about patience, and you can pass it on to another. I am very fond of looking at the Vogue youtube crochet clips because of the beautiful designed creations and here's one of my favourites of a spectacular sequined shoulder wrap. Oh I love this!

Higher Art Education

2013-03-21T17:52:00.002-03:00

Over the past months since my graduation, I have been seriously ruminating about, what now? I'm not the typical young graduate, is taking off for unknown parts in order to spread my wings, sow my oats and the like. No, I am a soon to be a sixty year old crone, which I am happy to be, however my situation causes me to carefully consider the pros and cons of my next steps and the direction in which I choose to head.

I've been thinking about returning to University my old Alma mater, NSCAD, where I first started my art education, in order to pursue my Masters of Fine Art. I have been asking myself all the questions, and make statements to myself that perhaps many would ask them selves, when considering this kind of rather daunting decision.

Mainly my biggest concern is monetary. I don't expect to be a better artist upon completion of an MFA, as I don't believe this is what makes or breaks what it means to be an artist. The bottom line is that I love going to school and life long learning.
According an article I read in the Huffinington Post the unofficial and unscientific research done on this matter seems to be is quite clear, receiving an MFA degree doesn't assist or enable an artist more exposure in galleries or give more opportunity for employment.

This is an interesting debate and ARTFagcity has lots of opinions regarding important factors to consider what may or may not help me to come to a conclusive decision about obtaining my MFA. After reading lots of posts on this topic online, I am much further ahead in deciding, but I do know I will have to turn to prayer in seeking my answer.

I would very much welcome and appreciate any feedback, comments or opinions surrounding this subject.

International Women's Day - Joyce Wieland

2013-03-08T14:50:00.002-04:00

                                                        Joyce Wieland 1930-1998

"The problem is to go into oneself and find out what one is and to suffer what it is to be oneself. Go to the darkest parts and the brightest parts and find out what you like and want, and to validate that...It's not just a question of art and finding out who you are and to make this wonderful thing happen out of yourself but it's the responsibility to the society and to care about other people...A lot of people think art is to be separate, but art is to embrace others - whether to convey something difficult or talk about light - work comes from spirit, journeys into spirit are what we need now. Spirit has always been in art."
                                                           - Joyce Wieland

I just finished reading reading Artist on Fire by Jane Lind. It is the wonderful autobiography of Joyce Wieland. She referred to herself as being the foremost artist. Others described her as being fearless. She was also I believe to be the most influential Canadian feminist artist.

The quote from Joyce Wieland summarizes for me much of what best describes what it means to be an artist regardless of your gender or feminism. She was a kindred and inspiring spirit to many women.

Joyce followed her inner visions and the legacy she left to those for us to follow was to listen and find our own voice, an act of faith in the face of fear. She created art because she loved it and believed art was "given from a divine source of love".

Art was not about theory for Joyce Wieland but about creating from the inside emotion of who she was, and making the personal political. She was in that category of women who created from their inner voice and vision.

I highly recommend reading this book, to anyone.

"To read this absorbing account of the life and art of Joyce Wieland is to enter again the magic circle that Canada's most original artist created in her life and work period. She remains unique. We are again enriched by her whimsy, her passion her zest for life, her contagious vitality even while we are saddened by the burden of pain she carried and by her tragic and untimely death. "

                                                                                                             - Doris McCarthy

Joyce died on June 27th 1998 of Alzheimers disease at the age of 68. She was greatly loved and admired.

Artists And Mental Illness

2013-03-01T20:42:00.000-04:00

After writing my last post about mental illness I found this article on the site,
New York Foundation For The Arts

"Hope For The Hopeless"

2013-02-28T15:18:00.002-04:00

I just finished my second commissioned painting of another lighthouse. The process of completing this painting was what I described as being, a spiritual experience, because of the state of my mental health over the past few weeks, which have been somewhat challenging, as I was feeling anxiety, stress and some depression. Fortunately for me, these episodes never last long, and things always get better.
I have often thought about mental illness throughout the years, because I was personally affected by it at a young age in my own family. Being a recovering alcoholic I have had my time of mental illness, or me being out in orbit, as I call it.
Lately there have been several items in the media about the treatment of those affected by mental illness and how it is often stigmatized, cloaked in shame and fear.

Many of my loved ones and close friends that experienced mental illness where hospitalized, imprisoned, or tragically succumbed to suicide.
My loving, tenderhearted, creative, and late husband, whom I met in Toronto at the Young Street Mission, an outreach for street youth, was a writer. He lost his battle with schizophrenia at the young age of twenty six in 1980. He had been diagnosed at sixteen years of age. Through out his young life, writing had always been his solace, his refuge and light during the storms of his life, that helped him find his way.
I have always been very grateful for having creativity to be the same for me, whenever I experienced times of depression or grief. It is a powerful healing balm for the spirit.

I am not usually a person likely to post recent bills passed in the government halls of the Canadian parliament, and then write in a blog post expressing what I think about them, in relation to how they affect me or others. I am going to take exception to this because it has been weighing on my heart and I felt compelled to share my thoughts, and experience.
Recently I read an article in the National Post where the retired Senator and past chair of the Mental Health Commission, Michael Kirby addressed this issue, where he expressed that the mental health system is turning prisons into the 21st century asylums for those suffering from mental illness. Michael Kirby himself was personally touched by the death and suicide of his own son, and who suffered with mental illness. Undoubtedly I'm certain this experience caused him to become a dedicated mental health advocate.

Having worked with many youth at high risk in care, with a myriad of mental health and addiction issues, I've seen how many of these youth fall between the cracks, as a result of insufficient support and treatment available to them and their families. So often these youth go on to adult correctional facilities. As a volunteer in provincial prisons, I have met up with some of these same youth, I once worked with, in open and closed custody, years prior to them becoming adult offenders. I attribute their incarceration directly to the lack of support and treatment available to them as youth and children and for their families.

Bill C-54 will directly affect how those with mental illness are perceived and the increased amount of time incarcerated when criminally charged.
The Schizophrenia Society of Canada has spoken out about the proposed changes in this bill and I believe addresses many important factors and concerns.

I am happy to see more people, especially in the public eye, speaking openly and candidly about mental health, as it has been long over due. It gives the much needed hope for those of us affected by mental illness and for a world so in need of hope.
I am reminded of a time many years ago when I went into a local coffee shop. There was an endearing young punk rocker behind the counter waiting on me. He was wearing a button that said, " Hope For The Hopeless". I thought to myself, thank God for that and that will be my mantra!

Why Art Competitions?

2013-02-15T18:25:00.001-04:00

Today I found an interesting article from the Agora Art blog about why entering an art competition can help your career.
I believe some art competitions can be seen, as being counter-intuitive and counter-productive to creativity.

As a person who has been involved in the art education of children and adults, I have been of the same opinion as, Viktor Lowenfeld, the father of art education. He purports is his book, Creative and Mental Growth that forced art competitions, based on outside standards as opposed to natural competitions, do little to encourage or foster the nurturing of creativity in children particularly. The reason relates to an externally imposed standard which exists and arises from those who are judging the art and not based on the individual's standard and achievement.

Having said this, as adults we are in control of what we decide to expose ourselves to within the already highly competitive art world. A balanced and tempered approach to art competition can have positive affects on reputation, on one's artistic career, and may give artists cause to evaluate their own work and goals. I think most artists eventually learn to do this regardless, especially if they have been immersed in an art education and academic environment, such as Fine Art program within a university.
Competition can be positive in the right context, and we all have to decide for ourselves precisely what is relevant to and for us, within whatever context we choose.

Lighthouses

2013-02-08T00:07:00.001-04:00

Recently, I have had two commissioned painting requests, and have just completed the first one. I 've only once painted a lighthouse as subject matter. As an artist living in Nova Scotia,Canada lighthouses are an iconic symbol, frequently seen on postcards, crafty wooden miniature lighthouses, etc., and so for me to choose a lighthouse as subject matter, is not something that would interest me necessarily.

I can remember as a young girl our family would make the long and arduous car trek from Toronto, Ontario to Nova Scotia, every Summer. My father would always track down a lighthouse somewhere, and we could go inside the lighthouses that were never locked. We would climb up the spiral rot iron staircases, in awe and amazement, I'd inspect the monumental and magical glass light, that was rather like a huge prism. This experience was one of my treasured memories of childhood.

The commissioned painting I just finished, I think helped me to recapture this memory, captured, and stimulated my imagination. While painting this rather Gothic like scene, I imagined what it would be like to enter the lighthouse. It was a meditative, reflective and positive experience. It transported me to another place, in my mind subconsciously.

In mid January, I was asked to write about my art work, and so I have been doing this in a separate journal. I thought perhaps I would feel differently about my commissioned work, as opposed to my own personal art work and subject matter but I have found out that I don't, though, in the past I might have. Regardless, now I don't believe there is a difference. I would like to explore this further.

I've been in a very reflective state since December and have come to a decision through prayer, journaling and discernment. I'm not quite ready to talk about this presently and well because I want to go to bed after a long day of painting my lighthouse. I see this painting as a symbol of my own discernment and the light has helped me find my way.

“Lighthouses don’t go running all over an island looking for boats to save; they just stand there shining.”

- Anne Lamott

The Open Mind - Artist On Fire

2013-02-03T18:56:00.001-04:00

My apologies to my followers and readers for not having posted as of late.
I really dislike not being regular in more ways than one. Without going into lengthy complaining and explaining, I will say it's good to be back after having internet issues.

So with the Christmas break I took time to do some knitting, crocheting, reading, and have started some commissioned paintings. I also have begun to discern the direction I am headed in my creative life journey.

I just finished reading, The Open Mind - Exploring the 6 Patterns of Natural Intelligence, by Dawna Markova, PH.D. This book was quite interesting, very informative in examining our conscious, subconscious and unconscious mind.

I discovered am mostly a VAK: Visually Smart, Auditorily Centered and Kinesthetically Sensitive. Easiest Way to Learn : See/Hear/Experience. Easiest Way to Express: Show/Say/Do.

I am also described as being a KAV: Kinesthetically Smart, Auditorily Centered, and Visually Sensitive. Easiest Way to Learn: Experience/Hear/See. Easiest Way to Express: Do/Say/Show.These learning patterns are very useful in being aware of how they enable understanding and perception of myself and others.

" Schools actually penalize kinesthetic learners and reward auditory and visual. Research verifies that beginning readers tend to be strongly kinesthetic. "
                                                                          - Marie Carbo &
   Rita Dunn

The other book I am about half way through is Jane Lind's, Joyce Wieland Artist on Fire. It's a riveting read, and have found out that Jane Lind writes about women artists. She is a wonderful writer and also is an artist/sculptor. It is always with great interest and pleasure, when I find out about woman artists. I am enjoying Jane Lind's book immensely, and enthusiastically look forward to reading her blog. I also look forward to continuing Artist On Fire. Joyce Wieland has always been one of my mentors.

" Joyce Wieland gave us dreams. Jane Lind has gathered the "stuff" of these dreams to weave a tapestry rich in the colour, texture, and creative strength of creative passion that was Joyce Wieland. "
                                                                  - Mary Pratt

Story Telling

2013-01-13T20:12:00.000-04:00

During the first week of 2013, I visited with my close artist friend, that I have much in common with, and we were discussing art, over a cup of tea, as we often do. The topic of journaling came up, and she shared that presently, she is reading her many journals, kept over several years.
I too, share with her, a love of regular journaling, that has been a profoundly healing, life changing, tool, that I have used as a way of telling my own story.
Looking back over my journals, I clearly see that, for probably more than thirty years, my life has been bracketed by story, and this fact continues to help me to creatively make sense of my world, through the language of story. My own story and the stories of others shared, may not be the same, however they act like redeeming guideposts to help me find my way, and to discern the right path to follow.

I was uplifted and inspired by two people, writers that I found out about today, who have been greatly influenced by story telling. The first was journalist, Don Lattin who has written, Distilled Spirits, and the second was writer and mythographer Marina Warner who wrote Stranger Magic, and writes about Shīrazād, the fictional wife of the Sultan and narrator of The Arabian Nights.

The Spirituality of Imperfection, Story Telling and The Search For Meaning, by Ernest Kurtz and Katherine Ketchum I read several years back and this book greatly helped me to understand the power and importance of story telling.

Stories have become the primary subject matter for my art work and I am so grateful and happy to have this extended expression for my involvement in story telling. I am very excited to read Marina Warner's and Don Lattin's books.

Mother of Inuit printmaking dies in Cape Dorset

2013-01-08T21:29:00.001-04:00

Mother of Inuit printmaking dies in Cape Dorset

http://www.nfb.ca/film/eskimo-artist-kenojuak/?ntpg_src=links&ntpg_sid=kr_tw_kenojuak_20130109

Resentment Versus Contentment

2013-01-03T00:35:00.000-04:00

Many years ago, I heard it said, by a man in Alcoholics Anonymous, that giving a medallion to an alcoholic, is like giving a cowboy with hemorrhoids a medal, for not getting on his horse.

That said, I have several medallions from A.A. after 19 years of sobriety, one day at a time, this day January 2nd 2013. I am so grateful to be able to say this, because the 12 steps of recovery gave me back my life, and no doubt saved my life. I don't need a medallion nor do I have hemorrhoids. I do however, wish I had a horse!

I also heard yesterday, the singer/songwriter and musician Kenny Rogers say, it had been pointed out to him by a friend, that when ever he spoke of his father, the first thing he would say was, that his father was an alcoholic. After Kenny became a wiser and more insightful person, he finally came to appreciate and love his father later in life, for the person he was, looking beyond his alcoholism.
I would speak the same way of my own father. I did this until I learned to forgive myself for the mistakes I had made in my own life, and came to understand my own alcoholism. It was only when I had done this in recovery, I began to have compassion toward my father, to accept him and love him for the beautiful human being he was. It wasn't easy, as he had been absent from my life for 26 years.

Long before I got into recovery a dear friend, who is a brilliant wordsmith of sorts, and a writer explained the word bitterness to me, or what she called bitter root. She said, if we hold onto our resentments we become bitter, and this bitter root grows and invades every part of our lives. At the time, I did not fully comprehend just what this meant or how pertinent it was and is to my life, to the relationship with myself, others and with the God of my own understanding. I learned in A.A. I can not afford resentment because it will get me drunk so I don't collect resentments any more in my gunny sack.

In recovery I have seen so many of my own personal dreams fulfilled, miracles happen in my life, wonderful friends I have met from all over the world and I am afraid I would have missed it all if I had never gotten into recovery. In 2005 I had the amazing opportunity of attending the International A.A. Convention in Toronto Ontario, where I experienced my own personal miracle.

When I take close look at these past nineteen years, I see what I have accomplished, things that I could never have imagined, had I not got honest with myself, clean and sober. I can't say it was all fun and light. I walked threw many dangers, storms and trials, and experienced the dark night of the soul, but I never had to drink. I learned through recovery to live life, on life's terms, found a strength greater than myself, and a fellowship that was second to none.

I have always followed my passions; working with youth, art, horses and music/dance.

In 1994 I joined A.A. left youth care, after having had the opportunity to return to school, to fulfill a child hood dream, to be close to horses. I enrolled in an Equestrian Coaching Preparation Program. I got sober when I went riding horses, where living on a working horse farm for almost two years. I even got the real estate award for covering so much ground! In other words, I fell off a lot! But more importantly, I always got back on that horse, and I went to a lot of A.A. meetings! I returned to Youth Care after I graduated from my Equestrian Coaching Program and became a Therapeutic Parent Counsellor in my own home.

At fifty, I took up Mediterranean dance, or what is more commonly known as Belly Dance. I had the privilege of teaching a small group of women in my village. What fun that was! It was a remarkable thing to watch how some women transformed their body image changing into confident women.

Finally at the age of fifty six, I returned to University after thirty years, finishing my Bachelor of Fine Art Degree and graduating this past May, a month prior to my fifty ninth birthday, which was the most challenging and rewarding experience of my life.

I have to add a fifth passion, the 12th Step recovery program, and the Fellowship of A.A.
I know I would never have been able to achieve or been able to overcome much of any thing, had I not sobered up and I am so very grateful for every good day and the crappy ones too. I usually learn the most from them. The worst day of contented sobriety is always a better day compared to the supposed best day drunk.

Who Is Rhoda Colville?

2012-12-31T23:51:00.002-04:00

Today, on the news I heard, Rhoda Valentine (nee Wright) Colville, died at the age of 91 years, on December 29th, 2012. She was a talented artist and poet, wife of renowned Canadian painter, Alex Colville, his muse, and subject of many of his paintings.

Looking at Alex's paintings of Rhoda, I always sensed he was very much in love with her. They were a handsome couple indeed.

My years of attending many Art History seminars, and learning about numerous artists, has been a great education. What was and is often, more interesting and compelling to me, is the many women artists, the wives of those male artists, who unfortunately in most instances, there is little to nothing known or even mentioned about these talented women artists, their lives and the art they made. Many women artists seemed to live in the shadow of their husband's careers, due to the cultural mores of the generation and times. Fortunately times have changed however you still have to dig for historical information regarding women artists.

I searched for information on line about Rhoda Colville. I found some basic facts, and mention of her talent as an artist and poet. She attended Mount Allison University, where she met Alex Colville. They were in the same fine art class. She wrote a booklet of poems entitled, Rhymes For Alex, dedicated to her husband.

I found this fine and lovely photo of Rhoda and Alex Colville in Wolfville home, taken by artist, Tim Lowly. They both look very happy and of this I am certain they must have been, after seventy years of marriage. In this soon to be New Year of 2013, it is a rare and beautiful thing to see love like this between two people. Here's to Rhoda and Alex, and creative love. Long may it live.

Shin Dong-hyuk Escape From Camp 14

2012-12-28T23:38:00.002-04:00

Here is an incredible story, based on his best selling book, Escape From Camp 14, told briefly in this TED talk, by Author and Journalist, Blaine Harden about, Shin Dong-hyuk, who escaped from the North Korean Camp 14, one of several camps that exist in North Korea though the Korean government denies there are camps.

Life Death Life Cycle

2012-12-27T19:03:00.000-04:00

Caitlin Doughty is a Los Angeles, CA. mortician and a writer who started The Order of The Good Death in 2011. I heard an interview with her on CBC radio for a second time. The first time I didn't listen as intently as I did on this occasion. Why I paid close attention today was because a close friend's brother-in-law died just a few days prior to Christmas. I came to the realization that I think deeply at Christmas about those that we love and loose to death, under very difficult and painful circumstances, that perhaps we can ever imagine.

Amidst the Christmas festivity, and celebration of the birth of the Christ Child, present to me, is a pervading sense and reminder of death. This may sound morbid, but I have come to realize this is all part and parcel of cycle of life. It is what Jungian analyst, Dr. Clarissa Pinkola refers to, in the story about Skeleton Woman, as being the life-death-life cycle. There is life after death I believe. I am not just talking about Heaven or the after life, but the kind of life we choose to live when we can face our fears surrounding death, confronting and accepting our mortality.

I am someone who has personally experienced a lot of death with the loss of a husband at the young age of 27, loosing my mother in 1995, after one year of sobriety, and then ten years later loosing my father and my older brother within two months of one another. In considering what I have lost and what I have gained, I am amazed and so grateful to be able to celebrate on January 2nd, 2013, nineteen years of contented sobriety.

The death of my loved ones has given me an appreciation for life and a wisdom that I would never have otherwise. I learned many hard lessons from death and continue to do so. What I have gleaned from these lessons, I have to share, pay it forward, in hopes of perhaps helping another, the way others have so generously helped me.

I remember many years ago reading, Love and Will by Rollo May. He makes some profound statements that have long resonated with me, about the relationship between Love and Death. This is clarified for me is his quotation from a letter written by Abraham Maslow, who was recuperating from a heart attack.

" The confrontation with death-and the reprieve from it-makes everything look so precious, so sacred, so beautiful that I feel more strongly than ever the impulse to love it. My river has never looked so beautiful....Death, and its ever present possibility makes love, passionate love, more possible. I wonder if we could love passionately, if ecstasy would be possible at all, if we knew we'd never die.

"Death is always in the shadow of the delight of love."

He speaks as well of the other side of the death and love relationship.

" The obsession with sex serves to cover up contemporary man's fear of death."

At one time death was not so much at arms length as it is today in the twenty first century, much to our own detriment.

When I first came to the realization I am somewhat preoccupied with contemplating thoughts about death, especially around this time of year, at Christmas, I didn't really want to admit this to myself. However today, after closely and intently listening and reading what Caitlin Doughty has to say, I can better embrace my thoughts and feelings about death and mortality. I now understand and know this is healthy and normal considering what my life experience has been.

Caitlin says, "Many of us have thoughts of death, but we don't see them to the end. We get stuck in the loops, reliving the scary part over and over but never the resolution."

Procrastination

2012-12-18T17:59:00.003-04:00

I have a subscription to a great blog called, Artsy Shark written by, + Carolyn Edlund the Executive Director of the Art Business Institute. The blog is a very practical and informative, and strives to enable emerging artists to educate themselves about the business side of being an artist and much more.

Here is a wonderfully helpful article about one my favourite nemesis, procrastination. It was once aptly put but some of my very favourite comedians.
Procrastination is like masturbation. At first it feels good, but in the end you’re only screwing yourself.

Monty Python