Sketchbook

While celebrating Brave Tuesday during Liv Lane's Build a Blog you Truly Love e-course. I was inspired by Laney McDonald's Brave Art post, where she bit the bullet and shared her sketchbooks with us. My sketchbooks are my zen, it's how I unwind after a long day. It's what I love... so I have decided to share them with you and in doing so I hope to send another unworthy gremlin to to the recycle bin.

Here we go....

I call this one "Wrapping Paper"- because that's what I can imagine it to be:



Often I sketch using the words I need to hear to inspire myself to keep creating, the next three pictures are just that:

This last one is inspired by Angie Lewin.

I love, love, love her work- I love how simple her drawings look, but they're not.

Thanks for visiting!

Michele

For everything there is a season...

It's winter here in Canada. Everything is buried in snow, the temperature is dropping- forcing you indoors, seeking warmth.

Right now, in this moment, I feel that my life has been one long winter. I keep waiting for the snow to melt, for fertile ground and yet, it doesn't seem to come around.

I'm at a crossroads in my life, my children are growing, my time is becoming my own again- and yet, I can't seem to dig myself out and take charge of my own spirit. So much of my life has been about service to others- I can move mountains for anyone who asks- but I can't seem to do it for myself.

My mountain isn't made of granite, it's made of fear and "what if's" and "how can I when's". I'm afraid, afraid of putting it all out there, afraid of failure, afraid to step into my skin and reveal myself.

What is it that I want? I want to unleash my creative self to the world, I want community, I want to find my tribe- to find the ones who speak my language.

I don't say these things out loud in my regular life. I don't sound like this at all. I don't talk about authenticity, finding your truth- but when I blog, that's all that my spirit wants to say.

So I let it flow, let the word's come alive and perhaps when everything I have kept hidden for so long reveals itself to the light- a new season will begin for me. That is a good enough place to start.

A post for my fellow traveller's

I will come out and say it here: I am a compulsive volunteer. Despite having interventions from family and friends, inevitably when the question of "any volunteers" is asked, my hand goes up. My current volunteer passion is managing my daughter Caitlyn's hockey team.

Now, I don't know a thing about hockey. I don't understand the referee calls, what an offside is, and the last time I went skating, I gave myself a concussion. But what I do know is how to run a team, how to organize and how to mobilize 15 girls and their parents. Tough job. No one else wants it.

So why do I give up my weekends, my evenings?

It's the girls. They make it worthwhile.

What can you learn from 12 and 13 year old girls? A lot.

They see the world in a whole different way. They play for the love of the game, for thrill of streaming across the ice and scoring that goal. And if they don't make it, they know there is another shift, another game, another opportunity- and in the meanwhile they keep training, keep shooting, keep practicing.

They know that Wayne Gretzky said "you miss 100% of the shots you never take." They know Sidney Crosby came home from school everyday and shot a hundred pucks, honing his skills. They know Hayley Wickenheiser, Canada's greatest female hockey player received the Order of Canada in addition to winning multiple gold medals for her country.

They know possibility.

They are also still young enough to know the joy comes from what they do and winning is just the icing on the cake. Win or lose, these joyful girls come back to the dressing room, crank up the boom box and their 100 watt smiles- confident in their knowledge that they did their best.

As adults, sometimes we forget this. We are so focused on the results that we forget to enjoy the journey. We forget to be kind to ourselves when learning something new, we forget that practice improves all things. We forget that there is always another chance.

But most of all we forget to smile in our small defeats.

So crank up the music, pour yourself a cup of coffee and begin again. Look back and see how far you've come. High five yourself when you complete a goal and when in doubt, lean on your team- your fellow bloggers, artists and those you trust with your dreams.

Just like you did when you were 12, when all you saw was possibility.

Michele

PS The picture above is of my daughter (centre)- three years ago when she started to play, she couldn't even stand on the ice, let alone skate. Now she's one of the fastest on her team, she works hard. If you look closely on the far right you will see me, on the bench with my girls- cheering them on.

Last night I had the strangest dream...

In my dream, Mike and I were taking a walk along a path at the edge of a cliff. Suddenly he said "I know this place, a guy I used to work with built this- and look there he is!"

We went to meet this old friend and began to talk about his project and how it was made, etc. The guy then said to Mike "why don't you guys climb over the edge- you'll get a much better perspective from the other side."

I, of course, said "no way!"

But Mike, as he's likely to do, convinced me that I would be safe, it would be fun and he wouldn't let anything happen to me. Since one is supposed to trust their husband (even though by experience I know this never goes well), we went over the edge.

Mike, who is fearless had a great time climbing up and down the cliff, but went I went over, the cliff began to crumble under my feet and I couldn't find safe footing anywhere. Mike hauled me up to the railing and left me hanging as he and his friend began to discuss the best way to save me.

As I hung on, terrified, watching them, the scene began to change (as dreams sometimes do). I noticed a crowd of people had begun to form. There were many familiar faces as old friends and new began to gather around the railing. They, however, were not concerned about my current state of distress- instead they were deciding on what restaurant they should eat at. They decided on Wendy's if anyone is interested...

As the scene continued to unfold I became angrier and angrier. I was shocked that I was hanging on with everything I had and everyone around me was oblivious.

And then it dawned on me- I had to help myself. I yelled to Mike and his friend to hand me their belts, I made a harness, and brought myself back to safety.

This dream really resonated with me. When I first woke up I was hurt that none of the people in my life were willing to help me. I was angry with Mike because he put me in that position. But then I got it, the purpose of the dream: I had helped myself. I was the key, I was the one to get me out of a rock and a hard place.

Literally!

I was the special ingredient all along.

This dream came to me as a gift to remind myself as I move forward with my living dreams and goals that I may lose my footing and I may be let down, but I alone have the power to transform my life and save myself.

I pass this along to you, so you too will feel empowered, and you too will know you are capable of creating the tools necessary to achieve your own successes. Sometimes this lesson is the hardest one to learn and I wish you well.

Michele

My Word for 2012

Hello- is anyone still there?

It's been so long since I last blogged that I had to google myself... not very dedicated am I?

2011 was a tough year, lots of challenges, lots of change, lots of learning. I was not present in my blogging life because I was trying very hard to be present in my own life.

A shift is taking place in my psyche- I am being reminded again and again about who I want to be and how I want to contribute to the world around me. In order to do this I have to focus on my SELF. Digging deep, becoming all philosophical and stuff, looking within.

I've started! Here's hoping I'll continue (how is that for a show of committment!) Ha!...

So I made myself a reminder in the art above about where I am setting my intentions for 2012.

AND if the art itself doesn't remind me- the repetitive stress injury I gave myself drawing all those circles will certainly stay with me... happy blogging!

Michele

A Little Bit of Inspiration

I have a BA in history and a couple of years of grad school tacked on for good measure. This really means nothing fifteen years later other than my children have an extensive vocabulary and I have some kick-ass research skills. I'm okay, by the way, with never having worked in my field- if anything a University degree instilled in me a life long love of learning, of challenging myself and finding my way around. I was the first kid in my immediate family to go to University, and really, it was the first independent thing I had ever done for myself. Good Stuff.

Back to those research skills. As I try to develop my own artistic style, I have been rooting around for different sources of inspiration. I know I like flowers for instance, but I'm not into still life pictures. To much pressure to get the details right- and really, I want to have fun with this art thing- not live in terror of making mistakes. While I was searching for some different resources on floral patterns, I came across these two books by Susan Meller. Click on the books to take you to Amazon or if you want to view before buying, check out your local library as I did.









The first book, Textile Designs, gives you a great overview of patterns, styles and color combos. Great resource for doodling backgrounds for art journals or a graphic design reference. Meller does a great job of explaining the history of printing textiles, focusing on technique and style. The Second book, Russian Textiles, was my favorite. There were so many examples of beautiful stylized flower designs and lots of red-work. This book has been my constant companion as I recover from my tumble last week.




What have you found lately that inspires you to create- that makes you want to capture something creatively? I would love to hear about it!

Silver Linings?

Early last week, Mike and I decided to take the kids skiing at Snow Valley, a small hill close to home. Our daughter Caitlyn, has been going to Snow Valley for Phys. Ed. class and absolutely loves it. Mike and Ashley both ski, and Jamie, our youngest, has never been. Jamie and I spent most of our day on the bunny hill- decidedly the safest place for two beginners. Mike and the girlies went straight to the bigger hills.

Jamie and I spent most of the day honing our skills, but after a few hours I was ready to call it quits and trade my skis for a book and a latte in the lodge, while Jamie was ready to tackle some bigger hills. I wasn't ready to advance but I let my baby move on. My Mama-heart swelled with pride when I saw him come smiling down on his first big run- with his big sisters close behind.

The kids were so enthusiastic and they, along with my husband, AKA as Mr. Fearless, convinced me to join them on their next turn. I'll admit it, I'm a HUGE chicken...just thinking of a ride on the chairlift makes me anxious. I didn't want to go...AT ALL! I had a sinking feeling and while I did my best to ignore their repeated requests (ie:begging!) they wore me down. As I lined up to wait for the next lift- I made one final attempt to back out while I gripped my husband's arm for dear life...

But Mr. Fearless wouldn't have it, he said "there's no turning back, you're committed now, there's only one way down this mountain..."

Did I mention he used to jump out of airplanes?

So I made it through the chairlift ride, with eyes closed, some deep calming breaths, gripping the safety bar and silencing the voice inside of me that whispered "nothing good will come of this..."

The last time I was that terrified was my first blog post- I'm sure you can all relate!! But once I was on solid ground, I calmed my nerves and prepared myself to tackle that hill- carpe diem and all that.

Turns out Mr. Fearless was wrong- there are two ways down a mountain. Mine was: start off too fast, try to regain control, avoid collision with other skier, lose control, cartwheel downhill with skis on, land in heap. Ouch!!

I am forever grateful to the ski patrol guy who carried me- Rhett Butler style, to and from the Gator that was my ticket off the hill, got my things together and convinced me to go to the hospital as he suspected a fractured pelvis when I couldn't stand on my own.

Several hours spent in the Emergency ward later, x-rays showed no broken bones- thank goodness! But I did manage to pull the ligaments which attach to my pelvis, to which the only cure is bed rest.

Two solid weeks of bed rest, to be exact: is it any wonder I'm blogging again? I guess there's always a silver lining.... :)