Category Archives: Life as an Artist

Weird Times, Winter Times

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I’m getting the very strong vibe that this is happening for a lot of folks. A lot of blogs I read are dropping out to either move on completely or take a rest. Projects don’t seem to be flowing. And I’m there too. I’ve been reading a lot and going to bed early. Healing. How very winter of me.

Last night I finished a book that I enjoyed so very much. In the Land of Winter by Richard Grant. Boy, was this a fantastic read. Written in 1997 it deals with a single witch mother who loses her child to bigotry and how she finds her way up and out. Very inspiring, full of witchy yummy details. I can’t believe it took me so long to find it. I’ve been reading Silver Ravenwolf’s mysteries to see what is in them. I get where she’s going and while I can certainly find some things I consider an error, for me, I can see how these are really good teaching tools too. So, reading, burrowing, watching CSI: Miami reruns because I’m in love with David Caruso aka Horatio Caine. He makes me remember how much I love a blue eyed red head.

“You, my friend, went from selling cars to making license plates.”

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Because of this hibernation trend, lately I’ve not been working on much. Well at least not with textiles. I have several unfinished projects in that area, especially the black wool embroidered vest and the Wheel of the Year project. I did get all excited recently when a friend showed me the charm bracelet she made. It was so very fae. Made with silver beads mixed in with pearls and other stones and glass in a pale misty green with irridescence it just made my crow go oooooooh. And I suddenly knew what some of my next projects are going to be.

I’ve been keeping my eye out for outlets for my pagany artistry since leaving that witchy group recently. The one where I made many pouches and other goods for them to sell for their fundraiser. What can replace that spiritual giving? While I’m sure that at some point another similar opportunity will arise, for the moment I’m focusing on what I can make to bring more financial prosperity into my own life. And how to create that for myself in other ways too.

I’ve been collecting beads for years. For a long time, pre-sobriety, I made a lot of beaded necklaces and did pretty well selling them around Yule. And I have kept on acquiring beads and trinkets as my crow nature just can’t help collecting sparkley things. Lost an earring? Keep the mate for a later cuz I loves it. I have a whole bag of this stuff. This past week I started making what are called bead dangles. These are homemade dangles or charms that one can use in place of a charm on a chain bracelet or necklace. And their only limit is your bead availability and your imagination. Tomorrow I plan on showing you a slew of the dangles I’ve made so far. For now, here is a little image from the internet of a simple bead dangle that links to the instructions on how they are made.

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How to Make a Bead Dangle

I’ve got three bead dangle projects rolling around in my brain. One is a dark fae bracelet. Similiar to my friend’s but using dark beads; black, purples, blues with silver wire and accents. Those are the bead dangles I have been working on. I have been saving lots of things with a very autumnal theme to them. Golds, leaves, acorns, stags and such. Those will most likely turn into a necklace because I have so many to play with. And of course a summery fae one. But that will take awhile as I don’t have the supplies and not many dollars for the variety of color that I might need. Yet. The Seattle International Gem and Jewelry Show is coming to town on March 8-9.

Lava beads

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When I saw these in the bead store I was very excited. When I was 13 my family visited Hawaii where among other wonders, we visited Mauna Loa and stood at the very brim of her melting pot. Three days after our visit the observation platform was engulfed with flaming lava when she erupted again. I can’t begin to tell you how thrilling that experience was, to stand and look into the heart of The Mama. To see the epitome of creation and destruction and recreation. Life, death, and rebirth. My blood and adrenalin sang with the power of it. The smell of it.

So, when I found beads made from hardened lava I couldn’t wait to make them into a necklace and earring set. I think of these beads as Earth and Fire in one. Mix them with leather and bone and horn and silver and I think I have myself a nice powerful protection bit of hardware going on.

Lava bead necklace and earrings

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I had to drill the lava beads out to accomodate the leather string, which is more fragile than I like. I might at some time, convert the leather to metal chain. But for now, the leather seems right.

Sacred Illness? Or Sacred Salvation?

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A sacred illness is one that educates us and alters us from the inside out, provides experiences and therefore knowledge that we could not possibly achieve in any other way, and aligns us with a life path that is, ultimately, of benefit to ourselves and those around us.
— Deena Metzger

I saw this quote on gratefulness.org today. And it resonated with me. It said in so few words what I have tried to communicate for over 10 years.

12 years ago I was diagnosed, by myself and others, as an alcoholic. 18 months after that I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia. Some thought that my alcoholism stemmed from my pain management. Perhaps. I think that the minute I drank with intent and got buzzed at the age of 13 I was on the rough and ready road. But I digress…

My sponsor, also a pagan, and I discuss language and thought and the law of attraction and magic. Part of me halts at this phrase Sacred Illness because it doesn’t deal with, at least not directly, recovery but illness… But adding the word sacred to illness is a huge leap in consciousness for me. Reminds me of adding “in bed” to every fortune cookie fortune. Add Sacred to any word and it changes it completely.

When I got the first of those diagnoses I was devastated. I thought it was the end of my life and my happiness. As if I was happy! *snort* I was miserable. I began going to meetings, I turned my back on my witch path in order to try and be spiritually open minded (I know, I know), I did the footwork. And things were getting better, step by slow step. But I wasn’t ready for the fibromyalgia deal. When it came I wanted to run and hide. And I quit my job because I couldn’t work enough. I thought I was also going to be not only in pain but in poverty. For the rest of my life. The sadness overwhelmed me some days.

And then a person entered my life. A person I would rather not see now. A person who was sober but not sane. But in two ways he changed my life for the better and while the ending was ugly I find that I must still be grateful for all it brought me.

The first thing that happened, and that brings this topic up for me, was that he introduced me to a medieval recreation group, a mix of true living history and folks just in costume. While that group changed me and was the initial inspiration, what really did the trick was hours and hours of doing something I loved, anything having to do with textiles but mostly anything with a needle and thread, with or without fabric.

When I was very young my mother and her mother, Goddess bless them both, taught me the arts they knew. Their arts included cooking, gardening and flowers, crochet, sewing, and embroidery. Their arts also included long walks where they showed me the frozen pipes along the lake, back when my city got really cold in the winter, the fallen leaves in the woods in the autumn, the growing grass and the hidden eggs. I learned to sew on a machine at 8. I have my first embroidery ever thanks to my grandmother who saved it. But somewhere along the line my training didn’t progress and I gave up sewing clothing. Alcoholism and a love of bad boys took away my embroidery. But! My solid familial and traditional foundation of Nature and Nurture came back with sobriety.

When I started playing with that medieval group I thought I sucked at the sewing but I loved the costumes and textiles arts so much by then, in my early sobriety, that I just kept plugging away. Making not so authentic stuff, but it was beautiful. It really was. And they were Sacred Clothes. I sold the old stuff to make room for better and more beautiful things. My concept of beauty morphed several times. I found that no matter how pain wracked my body was I couldn’t not sew and embroider. The passion so burned in me that I kept at it no matter what. And I started knitting Sacred Socks. All my socks are knit in 12 step meetings. Meetings where the heart and the spirit reside. They are endless knots of love to everyone I give them to. In order to keep what I have I must give it away. Sacred Gifts.

Some time had passed before I realized how much I had changed. Not only was I going to meetings every day because I wasn’t working but I felt pretty darned good. I was happy. I loved creating. And I found out that I am an artist. That I have something to give to the world. And no one was more surprised than I. *laugh* That realization, that I am a creatrix, blew my mind. Sacred Artist.

Today, I teach classes on what I do and many of the students say things like “I could never do that.” or “I’ll never be as good as you.” I try to tell them that everything I learned I learned because I did it every day. 40 years worth of learning. That I went to the library and got every book I could get my hands on that showed me how to do the things I was interested in. And I did it every day. Because I wanted to. No matter how shitty it looked. And then I made another one. Most of them are right, they will never get there simply because that is what they believe and they make it true. But the one who keeps making crap? I see them improve and they do it every day. And for me? I had to do it or die. Swear to God. Sacred Crap.

“Anything worth doing is worth doing badly.”

The road I had to walk to get here, the 23 years of active addiction, the unknown years of physical pain, well I wouldn’t recommend it to anyone. But the gifts that they both brought me, the gift of myself, my soul, my passion, my love of all things (yes, all *sigh*), those gifts are priceless. Today I still feel darned good most of the time. I still don’t drink etc… And every day I still stitch. I have no choice. I couldn’t not to do it. Sacred Passion.

And I have my path back. Sacred Goddess, Mother of Us All

Sacred Illness indeed. It altered me from the inside out. It “aligns us with a life path that is, ultimately, of benefit to ourselves and those around us.” How did it align me? It forced me to be quiet. To sit and stitch because I could do nothing else. It gave me time to discover myself.

So mote it be.

Unexpected Changes

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Recently I felt that my life had settled down enough to commit to something for a definite 2 years. And I can still do that. But my heart has shifted to another place suddenly and it just isn’t what is getting me geeking out. Now, I love to geek out. And the 2 year commitment was all about geeking out. I’m just not all that interested in geeking out about medieval stuff any more. I’ve been here before. A few years ago I stopped playing with my living history group because I felt that I was spending my time doing things that didn’t matter in the scheme of things.

That wasn’t exactly true. The fact is that I’ve learned how to do many things that one might need if forced to barter for what I/we need. I can grow food, I can even butcher it if I must. I can sew more than a fine seam, I can also tailor and make my own patterns. I can make healing medicines from herbs I grow. I can live in the wild and hold body and soul together for at least a little while. These are good skills and if it came down to it I’m sure I could find someone who might barter a heavy winter coat and shoes for a nanny goat. So no regrets. I am in a pretty good place no matter what when it comes to food, shelter, and clothing. Better than most that’s for sure. But is it enough to feed me in other ways?

More and more my heart is pulling me in another direction. Friendships have moved on after many productive years, interests have changed. I find that while my volunteer position, the one I committed to for 2 years, does indeed benefit others, I’m not getting fed spiritually as much as I would like. I love teaching. Love it love it love it. I love seeing lights turn on. But ultimately my problem is that the future isn’t the focus. Where do I go from here?

I am getting giddy over making things that are completely out of my head. Things I can give away. Things that will raise money for projects that excite me. Projects like a pagan temple, a place for all to get their spiritual needs met, a place to teach and learn, to commune, to heal, to create.

The weather has turned towards Autumn with much cooler mornings and the heat only coming late in the day. YES! I love this time of year when the promise of Autumn and it’s crisp days and quiet times out of the heat are made so. This means that we are moving towards my favorite holidays, Mabon, Samhain, and Yule. It also means that the annual fundraiser for Gaia’s Temple is coming soon. There will be a spiral dance, feasting, as well as a silent auction. Last year all of my donated craft items were sold for a total of $300. Now that might not seem like much when we are trying to build a temple but I have to say that I finally felt as though what I was doing had deep spiritual meaning. That it truly is for the greater common good.

Last Thursday The Ex and I attended the last Lammas ritual of the season. The evening was gorgeous, the sun out but also the breeze (the cooler evenings are as welcome as the cooler mornings!) . For some silly reason I had been putting off the invitations to join this group of people for an entire year. For some silly reason I was very nervous about going. I knew I would be a stranger, or so I thought at any rate. I was afraid of meeting so many new people in one place for such an intimate thing for me. But my experiences at OLOTEAS where I have not only spent time in ritual with a bunch of strangers and had a blast but also spent time doing a ritual with them skyclad (naked), and spent time nekkid in the clothing optional pool, those experiences have opened me up to new things. Suddenly it felt safe to go to this ritual.

And it was wonderful. The ritual was beautiful, it included the God, as it should in my opinion, which pleased me greatly. I think I thought the group would be too woman centric and not balanced enough for me. While the attendees were all women except for 2 men, the ritual itself was very balanced, lovely, lots of creativity went into the tools and items. The weather was amazing and the sun set behind the trees the minute the circle was opened. Pretty amazing. The feast that everyone contributed to was astonishing in it’s variety and goodness. So many delicious things to eat and smell and enjoy.

And one woman, who I am acquainted with, came up to me and said “The Pouch Lady! Look! I have one of your pouches!” and she produced it there on the spot. This happened almost immediately upon arrival and my sense of belonging settled right into place.

I can’t wait to go to the next one. And the next one. I can’t wait to get started on the items I will donate this year. They will be competing with all the homemade Yule presents I am making as well. Which means I really must make sure not to spread myself too thin with the 2 year volunteer thing. I think that the next event (end of September) and teaching the first week of October will be enough. I will put all of my energy into getting classes set up (not much to do there at all) and then be able to somewhat coast. And finding a deputy who wants to learn how to do what I’ve done and begin to step into my shoes so that they can take over when my time is up. Yes, time to find an Organization Deputy.

I’m full of all kinds of ideas for pagan crafts, my cup runneth over. To steal a quote from a God of another pantheon. What really runneth over is my pocket as it is full of the first acorns of the year.