a time for play

Never has there been a more balmy, silken-aired summer morning.

I find myself often thinking about the blip in time that we humans occupy.  A geologist on TV a few weeks back compared a narrow striation on a giant rock to what he said might be called the human era.  It is all so fleeting.  I forget which movie Woody Allen portrayed a boy stricken with the fear that the world would some day end. His mother wailed at him, "What is that your beezness??"

But on a morning like this, with Mozart on the radio and the birds twittering in the trees, the bees buzzing in the comfrey, a breeze rustling through the leaves, on a morning like this with a pretty little project in front of me taking form, I can forget about the world and live in these precious moments in time.

You may have noticed (ha,ha) that I find it hard to make regular entries to my blog.  I want so much to have something worth your time to look at.  How much the airways are filled with noise, the jabber of selling and filler so that we don't have to think, just react.  But it is a response I would elicit from you, something of personal pertinence that awakens in you.

On the weekend I was fortunate enough to attend an expressive arts class with delightful Elise Muller .   In it I struggled with the symbols I would use on the Mandala; always somewhat disconnected from myself in a group.  Elise advised me to use the Labyrinth she had just taught us how to make as a way to make the voyage inward.  Even in a group of chatting students, I was able to hear myself, which astounded me.

Still, I came home and fell immediately back into the old pattern I call bouncing into walls, really feeling no sense of direction, at a loss as to how to unfold myself.  This has been ongoing in my life.  Both my partner Wally and my new friend Joanna have been encouraging me to play, but as time goes on and I contribute less to this household financially, I revert to my old attitudes of production and find myself further and further from achieving my artistic vision.

Finally, I sat myself down and drew a labyrinth in the solitude of my studio tracing the path with a pen.  With my questions in mind, I wrote a stream of words that allowed me to find the touchstones I needed.

And doesn't the Labyrinth look like the drawing of a brain?

I'm so delighted with this technique, that now I must use it again when I find myself in a quandary.  It amazes me (oh a Pun!) that so many tools are available, if only we would pick them up.

So, from this exercise I allowed myself to play.  Play means you don't know where you're going and perhaps that is the lack of control that has impeded me from taking the leap.  Ironically, I used to be good at this, as we all were once.   I am constantly reminded of Picasso's famous quote:

"It takes one a long time to become young."

So I "drew" this, outlined in machine embroidery, then filled in with hand stitching.

Let's see where this will take me as I continue to explore/play.  Wish me luck as I allow myself the grace of play.In the meantime, an overdue welcome to Medieval Muse and Suzi Smith, my new "followers".  I am always honoured that any of you care to "follow".  I will try not to take it all so seriously.

Please don't forget that any comment you leave from now until the 20th of this month will enter you in the celebratory draw for the Queen of Hearts that you can see in my previous post. Good Luck!

Blessings