The Big Picture

Musings of a Creative Mind

A Creative Strike

I awoke with a start at 5:30 am. These words kept prodding at my brain, wanting to get out. I have had moments like this before, where I see and hear words scrolling through the ticker tape of my mind late at night and I always think I will capture it in the morning. The words are so good, of course, I will remember them. But I never do, so I decided that it was time to listen to this voice in my head. It clearly had a message for me so I grabbed my iPad and began to write.

Who am I?
Just a blend
Of swirling particles of dust
Forming space into something
Acting the part
Finding my way
Through the cosmos
Into the vast universe
Riding the wave of life.
Where do we go from here?
Into the void of ever after
What does it mean to exist?
It’s all dust
Who am I?
It doesn’t matter
I am anything
And everything
I exist in spite of myself
My thoughts are pointless
They guide me nowhere
And everywhere
Just flow with the swirls
Step boldly, assuredly
It’s all unknown
And so much more than our thoughts can bear
It is bliss to live this life
Bridget O’Flaherty

I Clearly Needed to Hear the Words

This has been a profound experience for me. I have never had such a visceral connection to writing. Writing has always been enjoyable for me, but it went beyond that. I literally wrote each word as it appeared in my consciousness. This was not an exercise in writing, I did not analyze the phrases and then edit it as I was writing. This was channeled and it flowed out of me word by word. When I got to the end, there were just no more words. I had no idea what I had written, I read it and cried.

I’ve been thinking a lot about this experience and what it means for me. I have never had such a guided inspiration before. I’m not sure where it came from. Was this Aaron reaching out to communicate with me and let me know that I am ok, that he’s ok? Was this just a manifested thought process that has been in my deep REM state locked away until this very moment when I was between sleep and awake? Or was it just a poem? Words capturing my thoughts.

Where is my Creativity Hiding?

It’s not that I think the poem is brilliant writing. I’m sure there are other writings that are similar and better. I know it’s completely normal for me to have existential musings at this stage in my grief and this is where it really came from. It’s emotional and authentic.

What’s interesting to me is the process. It’s been a struggle to get back into my art. I have spent the last two years building an art business that would take me through this. I knew I was going to be faced with the loss of my parents and my partner. My art was supposed to give me space to create and grieve. But it is not happening.

Now one may argue that I am impatient, that it’s less than 3 months since he passed, don’t rush the process. And I get that. I’m not rushing the process, I am sitting with it – every day. I know I am grieving. I’ve had days where I am just sad all day long, cry easily and I am so full of fear for what has been and what is coming. There have also been days with quiet solitude and days where I don’t have a thought at all about any of this. And I’ve had days with laughter and joy. I am listening to those fears. Paying attention to where those thoughts are leading me, and really, it’s not to my sewing studio.

Working Through the Self Doubt

This has lead to more fear and self-doubt. I thought I had it figured out. My art was supposed to serve me and get me through these tough times. I have been frustrated that this was not happening and I was feeling like I had it wrong, maybe I am not an artist. Maybe I am a fraud who just desperately made up a business to try and fulfill a process I thought I could control. I know this is not necessarily true, but these are my thoughts sometimes.

To get through the last couple of months while I have not felt like creating in my studio, I decided to focus elsewhere, in hopes that I would find my creativity. I did the easy, structured and necessary thing of my taxes. It’s been a hard slog, I really had no desire to do it as you can imagine. But I thought if I just kept at it and put it behind me, it would make space for a creative moment.

My Creativity Owes me Nothing

But what I have come to realize is that my art doesn’t serve me, I serve it. There is no structured process for grief. There is no formula to getting through it, even for the artist. My creativity owes me nothing and I cannot put it in a box to take out when I feel up to it. It comes when it is ready, and in the form that it wants to be. My challenge is to be open to the task. I have to be ready and willing to succumb to its demands and let it flow out of me in whatever form it needs to be.

I don’t get to choose when and how it approaches me. So, for now, it is writing. I’ll take up that task, write what needs to come out of me. Share what needs to be shared and step through this, one creative moment at a time… or not, as the case may be.

Taking Big Leaps

I knew my partner’s death was inevitable.

I, like everyone else, had no real knowledge of a timeline for that eventuality. But I was pretty confident we were not going to grow old together. This fact was often part of conversations that he and I had over the years. He knew that his time on this planet as a human was going to be shorter than any of us want.

I can’t say he was ever ok with that. He wanted to live, he had projects to finish and love to give. He wanted to see his kids grow and see his grandchildren. Anyone who knew him, knew how much he got a kick out of babies. It makes me sad to think he won’t get to experience that with us.

On the other hand, who am I to say he is not experiencing it?

I have no way of knowing what lies beyond our carbon-based selves. I like to think he’s out there in some way. It sure would be nice to have a clear sign though. It is damned hard to get a straight answer out of him these days.

Anyway, in the back of my mind, I knew I’d be facing life without him and now it is here. I miss him every day. But I had already been missing him for the last year as his body forsake him and he became less and less able to live the life he wanted to.

Stress and how it can sneak it’s way into your life

While working to keep our lives together with the major change in Aaron’s health about 5.5 years ago; the challenges of dialysis, doctors appointments, kids, parents and work, I started stress eating. It wasn’t a huge problem but I felt it and every once in a while I would do a mini-purge with a diet. This, of course, was an attempt to take off some of the 30lbs I had managed to hide in the middle of my body. It never really worked, but I know now that I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to lose it either. As soon as I would start a crisis would come up and I would shovel a plateful of lasagna or Fettuccini Alfredo for comfort. I knew this was totally reasonable given the circumstances and I didn’t beat myself up too much about it.

Over the Holidays, as friends and family brought copious amounts of food, reached out, offering support, dinners, lunches, spa days( I LOVE spa days and Le Nordik Spa). I realized that I needed to make changes in my life.

So Now I am Saying Yes

One of the biggest challenges I’ve had has been letting go of control of the outcome. Even in the final months of Aaron’s life, it became apparent that I couldn’t control his trajectory, I couldn’t save him from his own fate. I had to take a step back, it was the hardest step I have ever taken. But, it was also liberating for both of us. Upon reflection, I have realized that I have had a lot of anxiety over the years stemming from the crisis’ I’ve been part of. Things with my loved one’s health were so out of my control and chaotic, I would try to control everything else around me with precision. This served me well during this time, but I feel now it may hold me back from experiences.

So I am letting go. When someone invites me to something, I am taking the leap and jumping into new things. I am hoping it will help me grow as a person and lead me into this next phase of my life. I think that I just have to accept what is coming to me, having faith that it will lead me in the right direction.

Times of Change

A close friend who works out at a gym in town has been trying to convince me to join for months. I haven’t worked out in a gym since my 20s but in January, I went in and signed up for the whole year. I felt I just needed to commit. I’ve now been working out 2-3 times per week and I am already feeling physically stronger.

I was invited by another one of my close gfs to go over for a sauna and dinner, ok – I love saunas, so yes, I was in. Over dinner my friends mentioned that they were doing a Whole30 Challenge. After some brief discussion, it seemed clear that I needed this as well. I decided to have one last day with my milky sweet black tea and cheese, then started on January 8th.

Shall we Dance?

The next offer came in the form of dance lessons. Again, a close gf told me she was signing up for Salsa lessons. I was so excited for her, then she asked if I wanted to join her. OMG Yes!!! I love to dance, always have. So now we go once a week into Ottawa and dance. It’s been challenging, I am trained in Irish Dancing, which is notably… stiffer. But I am getting the hang of it. It’s such a social dance. I can’t wait to be deft enough to actually go out to a club, maybe after a few more lessons though.

New Habits

It’s been a month of these new habits. I know I have lost weight ( I am waiting until day 30 to actually weigh in). At Christmas, I had to leave the pockets open on my snow pants in order to zip them up and there was no chance of closing the clasp. Now I can zip them up and have a little room behind the clasp after it is closed. (you know you live in Canada when this is how you measure your waist). This feels great!

I know that not everyone who is in grief mode can take these types of changes in their lives. This has been great for my self-esteem and knowing I can actually get ahead of this and have some control of my physical health has been so wonderful. It is helping with clearing my mind and I am sleeping better. Hopefully, in the coming months, it will help me focus better on my business. One day at a time…

Grief and a Cat

The world of grief is a lonely place.

I don’t like to visit it often, but I do know I have to go there at times. It’s a solitary journey and you can’t come with me, nor can I go with you. I’m all for sharing feelings and stories, it’s in my nature to share and speak my mind most of the time, but not the inner most thoughts. In my head I visit the last moments, the regrets, the ‘I wish I had more time’ and I battle with self-doubt, fear, and loathing and you can’t join me.

This is not depression. This is grief and we all have to experience it.

It’s ok to feel this, to sit with it and to experience it. The difference between grief and depression I suppose is that one doesn’t stay there. These are my private moments; the challenge is to find joy as well, which I feel fortunate to experience daily. It’s a process and I am now over a month into it. I feel good most of the time, life and time keep on moving with or without my awareness of it.

What I really want to talk about though, is our cat.

Our cat was found as a tiny kitten on the side of the road, we are in the country and (this is actually a regular occurrence unfortunately we have found many litters of kittens dumped in our area over the years). Anyway, he was just a ball of fluff when we got him and he was terribly skittish. But our kids won him over and he became an indoor/outdoor family pet. He has always been an interesting character.

Kitty Kat (super creative name right?) loved Aaron and the boys, he hated me. He would literally scratch at the door to come in, start into the house and see me across the room, then promptly turn around and go back outside. If I came upstairs, he ran from me, he never wanted to be near me. He didn’t like strangers in the house and would always disappear when they visited unless they were on the toilet… I have no explanation for any of this.

He loved walks with Aaron

He would however, walk with us in the woods, he loves to go on walks. Since Aaron was home most of the time, they would spend a lot of time together. They always had mornings outside together and would sit on the porch often. When Aaron went into the hospital the cat behaved as he always had. He doesn’t like winter much and was in much of the time, though out of site if I was there. After Aaron died the cat wasn’t around a lot since there were so many strangers in and out of the house which didn’t surprise us. He seemed fine until we moved Aaron’s clothes out of the house and moved the furniture.

As part of my process in all of this, I needed to move the furniture. There were the practical reasons, like his dialysis machine and supply storage were no longer there. But it was really more an emotional response. Aaron spent 24hrs a day in the house in the last few months of his life. If I kept the furniture the same, I would see the void, I would expect him to be sitting in his chair. It was a little less painful to walk into the house with the changes.

Getting rid of the clothes was really a more practical thought process. The boys took many of the t-shirts as keepsakes and I kept a couple as well. We donated everything else, we knew he wasn’t coming back, they were taking up space and someone else could use them. The clothes do not make the man.

What I didn’t anticipate was the impact all of this would have on our cat… he left.

For over a week he would not come home. At first, we thought maybe he had been grabbed by a Fisher. They are well known to take cats and definitely live in the area, I was doubtful about this explanation. His skittishness has served him well in surviving our wooded area for the last 7 years and we saw no signs of any struggles in the snow around the yard. His footprints led to the woodshed, we found him deep under the floor of it. Then we thought maybe he was sick and was going away to die. We saw no sign of him for several days.

One evening when Jasper went for a walk, the cat showed himself. He didn’t quite get close enough for Jasper to reach him, then he walked away. The next day he came a little closer to the house when Jasper was outside again. And the day after that, I saw footprints leading to the first step of the house. The following night he came in with Jasper in the wee hours of the morning, ate for about half an hour straight and stayed in for 24 hours.

Since his return he has turned into a love cat. He climbs on the couch next to me and nuzzles his way onto my lap, insisting I pet him for at least 10 minutes straight before he will fall asleep curled into me. He now loves me so much. It’s remarkable.

Maybe he went on a walkabout in his grief and returned a new man.

Or maybe he’s just a cat…I have so many questions.

I started thinking about the bigger questions in life. How are we connected, who are we in this life and why are we connected to the people we meet? Are we really just energy manifested with infinite possibilities beyond the carbon-based form? Is it possible that the swirling essence of Aaron is manifested now in this cat? Or do we just cease to exist once our light goes out? More importantly, what meaning does our existence have if thats’s the case? Does the 27.5 years of my life with Aaron have any significance beyond our own lives? What’s the point? Or more simply, is it possible the cat had a medical event that changed his personality or did he just adapt to the new dynamics?

I don’t mean to ask if Aaron will be remembered. Those that knew him will of course but I know that after I am gone and our kids are gone, not much of our lives will remain, that is how it works. We are all just a blip in this vast universe. Our self- importance only serves us. I don’t mean this in a glib or sad way, it just is. I have a deep satisfaction in the life I had with Aaron, I loved being with him and he will continue to travel with me on my journey. Clearly I have no way of answering any of these questions, but I like pondering it all. It does give me pause about my own grief as well, if that cat could turn things into a great new life in the aftermath, so can I.

I’ll just keep stepping through this one day at a time. I’ve been creating a little, writing, and starting back to work a little bit at a time. It’s feeling good.

Work in Progress. Hand-dyed with botanicals. Libs Elliott pattern “Rebel Quilt”

2019 Whatcha Got for Me?

Trigger Warning: This is some of my truth about grief

What will 2019 hold for me?

2018 was challenging for sure. Some could say I would have every right to be in a state of depression, anger or shock after losing so much last year. It would be easy to fall into that. It might make sense to other people, who project their own assumptions on me, to see me as struggling, “of course she’s struggling, she just lost her life partner, her dad died this year and her mom – just a year ago. No wonder she’s a mess”. I don’t know anyone who will admit to feeling or thinking that about me, but I know if I were looking at me, I might be inclined think that.

But what if I don’t struggle? What if I could process this as just another step in my life and there is still so much living to do? What purpose would despair ultimately serve? I have this strong belief that the universe gives you back whatever you put out to it. So I choose to keep moving, to grow with every experience and find the beauty in the aftermath.

Grief: The Lonely Bitch

Here’s the thing though, grief is a lonely and solitary process. You can’t possibly know what I have actually been through these last few years, I barely know. I couldn’t possibly know what someone else who has experienced a loss, has gone through. It is all so personal and no two losses are the same. I have sad moments, they are usually in the evening and overnight while I dream and I am terrified of being stuck in those moments. Then they pass and time does its thing. The pause button will not work, not even for grief.

Over the last few years, chaos kept coming at me and I had no time to process the last blow before the next one came. But in that chaos I was forced to keep moving, to keep being there for my family. Living with someone who is critically ill and in chronic pain is no joy ride. Watching your loved one deteriorate and desperately want to be better and be here to find the beauty of life in spite of his failing body is it’s own special kind of torture.

Losing a parent to Alzheimer’s is a totally different kind of torture, they leave one small piece at a time, leaving you with hope for recovery when you see glimpses of their old selves and you wonder if you got it wrong, if you made the wrong choices for their care. But then they are gone again.

How am I Doing?

I get asked daily how I am doing with everything. It’s such a huge question. I’m never sure exactly how to answer it. Everything? Really? How do I even begin to unpack that? Often this question is sent by text, or when I meet someone in the grocery store.

It’s not that I don’t appreciate the acknowledgement, and I can see that they just want to show me they care. But I am in the middle of trying to get my veggies, I am not really up for a heart to heart in the aisle and my grief is really just below the surface, so if you could please just smile and nod, I might actually get through shopping without crying. Instead of asking ‘how are you?’ maybe you could just invite me to dinner so we can have a real conversation. Maybe I’m a little tired or maybe I’ve now realized that I want deeper relationships with people. I would much rather have more open and frank conversations. Just not in the grocery store.

I’m not going to lie, there are moments for me that make me feel overwhelmed, confused and lost. There are so many questions, so many times I wish for a do-over, to see if I could alter the outcome. I know in my heart though, that all three of my recent losses were not preventable, that their suffering is now ended and their deaths were inevitable.

How Do I See the Light?

The thing is, the last five years of my life have challenged and prepared me in ways I didn’t see coming. They have taken an emotional toll on me but also pushed me to be strong. To weather the storm and see the beauty in spite of the suffering. I am determined to accept this grief as it comes, with all the mess of sadness, despair, relief, opportunity and liberation that comes with it.

I am processing my losses, but really, my privilege would be showing if I looked at these moments as the worst possible thing that could have happened. They are significant, no doubt and I am grieving, but my amazing life carries on.

I live in an awesome community with a strong group of women who have been in my life since my kids were born, they check in daily. I live in a home that I built with my partner. It has electricity, water, heat and I have food in the fridge. I own 2 cars, I have a studio I get to do my art in. I’m sitting here writing a blog post about my year, in the comfort of my peaceful home, nestled in the woods on an iMac. I know there are people with much less in their lives, more trauma and more pain. I know I have a privileged life and I am grateful for it.

My kids are awesome people. They are here for me too. They miss him of course, but they are also looking at the person their father was and they want what he had. He was so giving and loving, they want to use that as a compass for their own lives. He lived his best life, they want to do that too. I couldn’t ask for more.

The other thing I keep in mind is that I had an extremely successful year in my art business. I had a piece receive a significant award in an international quilt show. I had several successful art shows and was selected as an instructor for The CQA/ACC National Conference in June 2019. Also, I moved into a new studio space that is so inspiring, with a multitude of ideas for the coming year.

What’s Next?

The truth is, I have no idea what is next right now. I am taking time to live in this moment. To connect with my family, my art, my writing, I’ll see where it all goes.

Over the last few years, I have fit my dreams into the corners of other people’s schedules and care needs. I have been a primary caregiver for a very long time, starting with my kids in 1996. Five years ago it became a full-time job for the 3 closest people to me; my partner, my mother and my father, along with having a full-time job to keep our lifestyle financially intact. In the blink of an eye, they are all gone. Not only is their suffering over in an instant, but in many ways so is mine. My kids are now grown, the world is now my oyster.

I need time to sit with this new reality and I plan to do great things. To live my best life, I have the privilege to explore that for a while. I am now at liberty to live my life in any way I want. It’s amazing and terrifying all at once.

Thank you to my parents and my partner for bringing me to this moment in my life.

A Tribute to my Mother

Finally Released From Alzheimer’s

A Tribute to Kathleen O’Flaherty

March 12, 1942-Nov 30, 2017

This is not one of my normal posts and has little to do directly with my art. But it is the story of my mother, a tribute to show how her influence has been significant on who I am today.

My mother passed away last week. She was diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer’s at the age of 67. Her 8-year battle was a slow decline at first, the last three years were more significant. She was able to stay at home, cared for by our father. This is the tribute I wrote for her, I know you may not know her, but maybe you can relate anyway. It’s been therapeutic for me to write this all out.

As we were mulling over memories, talking with family and friends and our Dad, it occurred to us that the easiest way to explain our mother’s life is to tell you about some of the things we learned from her and I expect you may be able to relate to them as well. I could talk about where she was born and raised, and the timeline of her life, but there are details that like you, I just don’t know. So really I’d rather talk to you about her essence and how it impacted us. She has threaded her way through our lives and we all get a piece of the grand quilt of her life in what we take from her.[hr]

The importance of family

My mom would travel home to England to visit family. Every time she got on the plane she would cry for the family she was leaving. When she landed she would cry in anticipation of seeing her sisters Sylvia and Val and family there. When she got back on the plane again to come back to Canada, she would cry for the family she was leaving and cry when she landed, relieved to be with her family here again. She taught us that no matter the distances, family is important and worth the trips when you could do it.[hr]

A zest for life

Our mother was game for just about anything. She was dynamic, engaged and loved to laugh. She loved social interactions, being the centre of attention, dancing, dinners and good food, good company. While she drew the line at skiing and skating, I would never have called her athletic; My brother reminded me of a time when we were kids in Oak Ridges when we went tobogganing. There was a place we called “the hill”. In my memory it was huge! My mom was ready to jump on the wooden toboggan with Damien and good friend Winfred and took off laughing as she careened down the hill. She did the same thing years later when the lived at Bobs Lake with her grandchildren. My Mum had a great laugh. She taught us to have a zest for life, to seize the moments that can bring great joy and to laugh.[hr]

Appreciating beauty in the details

I can remember dinners on Drummond street. The huge harvest table would be laid out with matching plates, ornate serving dishes, embroidered napkins and a feast for friends like Annie, John and Rhonda and whoever stopped by – usually teenage friends of Rachel and Brendan. She loved old things; pewter serving spoons, cracked porcelain serving dishes, mismatched salt and pepper shakers. My Mother loved and appreciated the history of them, the untold stories. She would take us to auctions and flea markets when we were kids. We would also look at open houses just to see the grand old houses from the inside. She gave us an appreciation for the artistry in our history.[hr]

A love of colour

Taking a walk with my mum always gave such an interesting perspective, she loved to walk. She had a love of old architecture and gardens, but mainly flowers. Even once Alzheimer’s had set in for her, Rachel talked about how she never failed to see the beauty in gardens or the shades of green in the landscape. Rachel got the gift of the green thumb from our Mum. It was obvious that she had a love of colour, it was reflected in everything she did. Her clothes, gardens, food and of course her quilts. Her creative artistry was entrenched in our childhood from homemade clothes, hand knitted sweaters, hand embroidered Irish dancing dresses and on to the spectacular quilts, she made in her art career. She taught us how important it is to see the shades, to appreciate the colour in life.[hr]

An appreciation for music, musicals and dancing

Our mother loved music. But it was very specific, as far as she was concerned when it came to rock and modern music it was none of her business unless it was Rod Stewart. She loved choirs, she would light up during hymns in church and cherished singing in the Oak Ridges and St. John’s church choirs. She’d watch ‘Last Night at the Proms’ every year, took us to the Nutcracker, just about every musical to come to Toronto and desperately wanted to be Fred Astaire’s Ginger. The best part about these times was the dress up. I loved seeing her so glamorous. She pulled out her experience as a cosmetician and was elegant and sheikh, always so well put together. She loved to make these events special. Her love of music brought out the joyful personality that was lost in the disease. She taught me to love the performance and the magic of the theatre and song.[hr]

Welcoming anyone to the table

From college borders to exchange students and any friend of her children, there was always room at the table for another guest. She was kind, generous and always welcoming so many of these connections are still in our lives today and richer for it. On Drummond street, so many of us looked forward to playing games like Trivial Pursuit after a meal, hoping she was on our team, she always said she had loads of useless information but her team always one. She showed us that seizing new opportunities, welcoming new people into our lives, enriches them.[hr]

Fierce independence and standing strong with your dreams

From an early age, our mum instilled independence in us. She set us on a course of self-discovery and encouraged us in anything we wanted to try. When she made the bold move to go into business for herself with the quilt stores I was too young to understand how significant that would be in my life. She bravely stepped out of the traditions of working and became an entrepreneur. Then she sprinkled her verve in organizations like the museum board, the BIA, the quilters guild, and touched the lives of so many in the community. Too many to name. She taught me the importance of following passion authentically. Life is too short to pass that up.[hr]

Friends and family, nothing matters more

From the communications we’ve had in the last few days and seeing who is here today; we know our mother was loved. Her friends were lifelong. From the moment she landed in Canada, friends on Scarth Road, Jim and Judy who introduced our parents to each other, Don and Betty, Leslie and Peter, Joan, Pat, the Densmore’s, the Ardelt’s and the Nolan’s, Faye & Mike, John & Ronda, Annie and Mick. Solid friends who were unwavering and their lives intertwined over 50 years. These friends are like aunts and uncles to us, we grew up with their kids now like cousins, we know we will always be connected to these families. She taught us the importance of forging friendships to last a lifetime.[hr]

Kathleen O’Flaherty, our mother had her share of struggles, but her determination to enjoy life, laugh and live her passions always shone through. The lessons that came from knowing her will continue to reveal themselves as we forge our way through our own lives. The last few years were difficult, the disease had stolen most of her essence. She is finally free to come back into our lives, shine her light on us, remind us to enjoy life, seize opportunities and to laugh with the ones we love.

Thank you so much for sharing some memories, and being a part of the fabric of our mother’s giant quilt that was her life. I know she loved us all.

De-Stashing the Inherited Fabric – Part 2

I started with the books.

Previously I wrote about my journey with my mother who has Alzheimer’s and inheriting her large fabric stash. I have spent many months working on a solution for de-stashing and have had lots of great ideas from many of you. Thank you for that, I love hearing your stories and suggestions.

As well as a large amount of fabric, my mother had a huge collection of books. Deciding to part with these was easier for me as my mother and I did very different work so I had little attachment to most of them. I donated 3 large bins to my local quilt guild library. The rest I took to a re-use centre in town. Great! That’s one part of the de-stashing dealt with. But really it was a drop in the bucket.

What did I decide to do with it?

Landing on a bit of selling, keeping and giving away helped to move things along, but I needed to start with seeing what I had. So I decided to dedicate a few hours each week to sorting. I take out one bin at a time, some of the fabric is marked or faded and cut strangely – what did she do with some of those pieces?! Then I trim and sort into scrap bags for give aways, pressing the larger pieces. (I love ironing, which I realize is controversial but what can I say? We all have our quirks.)

I was moving along well, but a few weeks ago found myself little stuck again. How can I remember and know what I have? I needed a way to organize it all so I could see it. Off to Pinterest, Facebook, fellow fabric hoarders and Instagram for inspiration and got lots of really great de-stashing and storage ideas.

I decided to roll my fabric on cardboard. I have lots of boxes in my life, so I started cutting them up 3” x 5” for small pieces, 5” x 7” for less than a meter and 5” x 12” for larger yardage. It’s going to take a while and there will be tears still, but I finally feel ready to take this mountain on.

Taking de-stashing to the next level.

For now my plan is to sell some through classified groups on Facebook and de-stashing sales in my studio or online. I will donate some to a few worthy causes. I will make a few quilts to practise my long-arm quilting. These I will likely give to my kids and my mother’s grandchildren, and maybe to a few cousins, too. As I wade my way through the fabrics and memories, I am feeling better about it all. It feels like the right time finally to clear the space and let go.

Anyone want some fabric?

If you missed this first blog you can click here to read all about it.

A great Website in support of Alzheimer’s research is Hilarity for Charity click here to find out ways you can help the cause.

The Best Reason to Own Art

Art and photo ©Lyla Cravero

Why do we buy Art?

When we consider the number of households in Canada and the number of rooms in a home, it adds up to millions of pieces decorating walls. Most of it is reproductions, personal photos or a relative’s. It is fair to say only a marginal percentage is purchased original art, but what compels people to seek out original art? Why do we have it in our homes at all? This is a question that seems to have an obvious answer, doesn’t everyone have art? I wanted to understand what motivates and drives people to place it in their home and look at it daily. Is it a status symbol, family heirloom, décor, something inherited or is there a bigger need filled with owning art?

It’s all about Connections

When I asked the questions; why do you buy art and what is your favourite in your home? Most of the time I heard about connections to the artist: a family member painted it, a friend, a loved one, a mentor. The art itself was somewhat irrelevant. Sometimes this applied to the person who gave it to them, it really wasn’t about the subject. Though one could argue that the subject became interesting because of the emotion around the presenting of the gift.

When prodding further, art subjects almost always trigger a memory or inspiration for people and tell a story they identify with. A connection to the land, the architecture, the sunset, the colours, the texture seemed most common. Pretty well every answer came back to sparking an emotional tie to the piece to a person, thing or place. They evoked special memories, a treasure and keepsake, this lead to feelings of peace, contentment, nostalgia, love, inspiration and improved self-worth.

“Art enables us to find ourselves and lose ourselves at the same time.”
― Thomas Merton, No Man Is an Island

It is good for your Health

There are studies out there that show that participating in art relieves stress. It can have a calming effect and can contribute to the overall well-being of a person and improve recovery times in some health situations. Some work is designed to be a social commentary and is intended to spark conversation. It does not always have a “calming effect”, it is subjective and can have different meaning for people, often different from the artist. That’s the beauty of it. It feeds the soul of the person observing it.

“Art washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life.”
― Pablo Picasso

Owning art gratifies a desire rather than a need like clothing, furniture, technology etc. The desire to connect with a place, a memory, a feeling or person. The initial attraction may come from the impact, the craftsmanship, style, quality, colours, or connection with the artist, but ultimately the driving force behind a person making an art purchase is personal. It’s between the viewer and the art. Some believe that beauty (in the eyes of the beholder) opens the heart and feeds a deep well of contentment.

Fibre Art Connects people to Traditions

When I ask what connects people to textiles, it is almost always about family and lineage. The historical context is important for the traditional crafts like quilting, knitting, weaving, sewing. An aunt, grandmother, mother used to do it and it reminds people of that. There is a thread connecting to the people in their lives, a tactile relationship and an emotional tie to textiles. People are always compelled to touch my fibre art. Bringing nature and landscapes into contemporary fibre art bridges traditional craft and artistic imagery. It can be a very powerful way to engage with a viewer.

When I started quilting, one of my first quilts was a traditional sampler. I then moved on to geometric modern art quilts and now blend the landscape with the traditions of quilting like in the Offset Log Cabin quilt.

This speaks to the traditions not only of quilting but also the craft of log home building. They are never square! I love to work with clients that are interested in creating a keepsake in thread painting. Custom work is one of my favourite and most satisfying projects for so many reasons. Choosing an image from a memory like a family homestead, cottage or vacation to have represented in a commemorative quilt is one of my most common requests.

Connecting with Landscapes for Peace of Mind

I spoke in another post about mindfulness and fibre therapy, this was referring to doing it. I think the same really applies with observing, viewing and owning art. It gives us an opportunity to pause, enjoy, derive pleasure from what we are viewing. It’s worth reflecting on and taking the time to own art that speaks to us tol improve our overall well being.

Alzheimer’s, Loss, and Inherited Fabric: What do you do with it all? – Part 1

Alzheimer’s sucks, that’s the first thing I need to get off of my chest. I miss my mother.

My mother was a huge part of my life. We were best friends (once we got past the stage where I was a 16-year-old jerk who thought she knew better). As a young adult, my mother was one of the most important people in my life. Like so many, I was unsure of what I wanted to do: I had tried university, and college, and working. I had travelled, fell in love and was at a crossroads.

My mother opened a quilt store in the small town where we lived and asked if I wanted to help her until I figured myself out. I had only done one quilt at that point and it was by hand. I hated doing it and it took me 2 years to finish! But I had nothing else going on so – with some indifference – I joined her at the shop.

It opened my eyes to so many things.

It fueled my desire to create, and it introduced me to the world of small business and being an entrepreneur. She opened doors that I didn’t even know existed. She encouraged me to learn, take classes and take risks. Less than one year in, she offered me a class to teach. Seriously, after only a few quilts and a few months she said, “Well why not?” and I didn’t really have an answer. That launched my life as a teacher, lover of fibre and the drive to succeed.

We went through so much together, and always bonded over a cup of tea and quilting. She always had time to dream with me about the next big idea. Then Alzheimer’s creeped in and started to steal moments of our connections from each other. It has been a long illness and watching her deteriorate over the last 10 years has been devastating to say the least.

While she’s still alive – I feel like I’ve already lost her.

I continue to try to stay connected with my mother, supportive and still see her, ignoring the fact that she thought I was stealing from her, or that she didn’t trust me and now doesn’t seem to even know herself, let alone me or anyone else from her life. But that is a hard place to stay. I admire those who can give of themselves selflessly to those suffering with this disease. My weekly visits are usually a short 5 minutes before her agitation sets in and it’s time to go.

And what does this have to do with fabric?

I mentioned she owned a store… and after it closed, so much went into her studio and she created for another 12 years until her disease took that away from her. She kept everything. Now I have all that everything.

The dilemma is not in just what to do with it, but in unpacking all of the emotional context of it. There is well over 500 meters of cotton fabric – mostly in small pieces making up about 1,500 pieces of fabric, notions galore, yarn, upholstery fabric, books – so many books – and lots of other fibre/craft related things. Everything has a memory for me: I see a fabric I know she used and it reminds me of her. I see a box she stored buttons in and I remember it in her sewing room when I was young. It is really like taking apart and dismantling someone’s life. How do I discard and give away things that were vital to her existence. Who will know how important she was, what she did with all of these things to make other people happy? I know that I will, and ultimately these questions are asked for all of us. The only thing that remains of us after this life is the affect we had on others.

However, these supplies are things I will not use in my work or in my daily life. They are taking up space for me mentally as well as physically and I have to move forward in my own life and work.

This is the hardest part.

I can’t even use most of it, it is not my aesthetic nor my interest. So what to do? I have had it in my studio for about 3 years, since she went into long-term care. It’s all in bins just waiting to be figured out.

It’s time for me to tackle it.

I’ve looked at many options, I have pulled all of the cotton fabric out several times. I started by just putting it all on the floor and looking at it. There was so much and it was a little overwhelming. So I put it back in the bins. I have to decide what the end goal is, am I giving it away, selling it, using it?

It’s not an easy task, it’s tied to so many emotions. I will work my way through it though. ( I have been for many months and will share some of my solutions in an upcoming blog post)

I’m sure many of you have been through similar stages and dilemmas in life, I’d love to know that I am not alone with this, tell me your stories, what did you do to de-stash and sort? What worked for you? Do you have any suggestions?

A great site for contributing to the research of Alzheimer’s is Hilarity for Charity

or the Canadian Alzheimer’s Association

Fibreshed and How to Bring the 100-mile Diet to Fibre Arts

Earlier this month, I learned a new word: fibreshed.

It happened when I took some time for professional development and attended a live webinar on Natural Dyeing in the Fibre Art industry. It was not a word I was familiar with previously. Now I am fully on board and ready to work for the cause. There was a panel discussion on the state of the industry with experts from around all over North America. This was hosted by Craft Ontario and the experts have been working in the textile and natural dye industry for many years. So, Fibreshed…it’s essentially sourcing your project or product materials and services from within a geographic region with ecological systems at the core.

It’s kind of like considering the 100-mile diet for fibre.

The chain of custody of the sweater is a great example. Wool from sheep, spun a local mill, woven, turned into cloth, clothing is made, used and then recycled or composted all within close proximity of each other forming a cradle to cradle system. The Upper Canada Fibreshed is working towards connecting the sources of the product in this geographic region. Wouldn’t it be great if we could track our origins of all of our needlecrafts?

It is so important to have these discussions, and how the fibre arts world needs to embrace sustainability more. The toxicity of current dye practices and the ecological impact is at the forefront of importance of many textile companies. It really fuelled my passion to pursue this as a core principle in my work.

The ways I integrate eco-art into my work

Every decision I make now in my work is framed around the question ‘can I add a sustainable element to this and what does that look like?’. My goal is to create sustainable fibre art that raises awareness of and evokes an intimate connection to the natural world, using materials from sustainable sources. I want to bring that narrative into all of the work that I do.

I source materials with these criteria in mind:

Organic
Certified
Natural fibre
Locally produced
Does it have recycled content
Location
Processing

I’m not always able to find these answers immediately on websites and sometimes have to contact the distributor directly. Sometime they have the answers, sometimes I never hear back.

Finding notions and supplies is a little more challenging. I have had some luck with an organic cotton thread company from the US Fibreactive Organics. Their pallette is restricted but there are options to dye it yourself. I recently came across a brand of Guttermann Thread that is very exciting and I plan to bring it into my work this year. The Sew-all Thread 100 m rPET is a 100% recycled content polyester thread. I’ll be writing a blog in the coming months on the testing of this thread. I am very hopeful as it has a range of 52 colours and combined with the organics should offer a good selection for the work I do.

Finally, I’ll be tracking sustainable supplies as I find them and will be updating my Supplier List quarterly. Get this straight to your inbox, join my Fibre Tribe and get the Monthly Thread Talks.

Do you have any recommendations for sustainable fibre suppliers?

Let me know! Send me your connections and links to someone who is already doing sustainable supplies.[button link=”www.threadpaintedart.com/contact” bg_color=”#8c9165″]Contact[/button]

What was that judge thinking?

Scoping out how a judge determines the top quilt at a show.

When we speak of inspiration, we don’t often think of attending lectures and professional development. It really it is so great for getting the creative juices flowing for a business. I decided I would do some direct professional development at the latest Canada Quilter’s Association Conference. I took a workshop called “What was that Judge Thinking?” with Joyce Brown and Judy Villett. It’s the first of a series for the Quilt Judge Certification Programme. The program trains judges and jurors in the profession of assessing and critiquing quilts and fibre art within the context of a competition. The instructors have been in the biz for over 30 years and brought with them a wealth of knowledge to impart on an eager group.

After listening, participating and networking, I’m not sure if I will go through the whole program, but it was certainly helpful and food for thought for the future. The whole process of entering, hosting, coordinating and judging a quilt show were covered in the day.

How Hard is it to Judge?

The hardest part of being a judge seems to be taking into account the design elements of a piece as well as the technical details. You really need a solid background in design and and clear understanding of colour theory. Without these basics in understanding design, it doesn’t seem possible to critique a work without bringing in your opinion. The next step is the technical side, pouring over a piece, looking for the workmanship and fine details to set a work apart. Then you have to take both into account, does one outweigh the other in the submission? Of course you then have to look at them in context of the other top works.

Colour Theory Samples by Judy Villett

It really opened my eyes to what a judge faces when 150 quilts show up and they are all the cream of the crop. How do you differentiate without bringing your opinion to the table? Looking at a design objectively without know the artist or their intentions. Really studying it to determine what works, then hearing the artist’s statement. Then they take the top contenders and zeroing in on a winner, it can’t be easy!

The Best part of Workshops

One of the best parts of the day was meeting some like-minded artists. Community is so important and building relationships in the industry makes all the difference to a successful business in my opinion. I look forward to meeting up with the ladies I met again at future workshops.

If you are interested in the program you can see more details here: judges-certification-program

You can see what workshops are coming up in the 2018 Conference for CQA which takes place in Vancouver here.

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