Feast for the Soul

Last Sunday Tony roused me out of bed and into the van for a trip up Vancouver Island to a beautiful spot where we spent three hours meandering though what can only be described as a sheer delight to the senses. I'd been feeling a bit uninspired recently, okay... a LOT uninspired and, as always seems the case, he unfailingly picked the best medicine for me. Known to the locals as "Wacky Woods" the name belittles the true essence of the place. The owner of the property, several years ago, began creating his own outdoor sancuary, expressing himself in utterly unique ways both visually and verbally. A sign greets you at the beginning of the path:In the spirit of friendship let there be laughter and sharing of pleasures

The magic unfolds as you walk deeper into the woods and discover untold delights and sculptures that are thought provoking, evoke deep emotion, or simply make you smile.

Old cedars hold books with messages for the mind and the soul...


Faces from another time watch how we allow things to unfold this time around...
And on that cold Sunday afternoon the warm rays of bright sunshine floodlit certain pieces to absolute perfection.
This man and nature had worked together to create a symbiotic relationship with each other. Some of the book openings had grown over and been reclaimed by the cedar. Some of the trees had fallen or blown over and the roots became part of the landscape. Exactly as it was always meant to be.

The most amazing thing was there was no sign to show it was there, no entrance fee, no gate that closed at a certain time, nowhere to leave a comment. Just the beauty of man and nature together... at their best. We didn't want to leave this place, and I think a part of both of us remains there, safe in the knowing that man can get it right, sometimes.

What a difference a day makes

A nasty chest infection kept me home for several few weeks this winter. One of the side benefits of having to stay in bed was that I got to watch the sunset over the bay each evening out of my window.

Here are photographs taken three nights in a row at the same time each night. It reminded me of the importance as an artist and a writer to notice the subtle changes that nature and life are showing us every single moment of every single day. To take note of the differences, and to remember that although it may be the same view, same day... the overall picture is always changing.

Art Play Journals

I journal daily. I also have my art journal which is a visual/written record of my art journey. I have my work journal which contains everything work related, but I wanted to start another kind of journal – where I could… just… well… play!

I started with a spiral bound sketchbook page, some pictures from a magazine which I glued down as background and then scratched to create a distressed look, then painted over with watercolours. I decided to rub gold shoe polish randomly over the page…

Next I transferred paint from the first page to a second one using scrunched up tissue paper, then painted the suggestion of a flower with nail polish (mental note: do more with nail polish!)…

Below is the painted page on which I tested the effect of painting with mushed up tissue paper before doing the whole page above. I then glued on a picture from a magazine which will later on be painted over and then who knows what else…

I realized by the third page that the paper I was working on was way too thin so I found a nice big bound sketchbook that would accept light washes and glued the painted pages into it, cutting off the excess strips, which promptly became the basis of a woven piece. I adhered torn air mail writing paper, then laid an overwash with watered-down gold acrylic (rules? what rules?)…

Here's the back of the above page from another angle, lots of potential for another time…

Meanwhile I painted yet another page with the excess paint from the woven piece above. I smooshed some circles in watercolour crayons, painted over some more, this time blending the crayoned circles, crayoned some more, painted and blended yet again, then used interference paints to go over all of the circles…

Each time I had excess paint or medium I mushed it onto another sheet of paper, even the paper towel I used to rub one medium onto one page got torn up and collaged onto another. In short, I had a blast!

So now I have the foundation of five pages to continue playing on and I am completely taken with using an Art Play Journal to explore, experiment and above all… play.

Haiti

In my work I often meet people whose beliefs or the situation they find themselves in, are in direct conflict with my own beliefs. My job is to "get my ego the heck out of here" and work intuitively to receive guidance and information that will help them make the right choices for themselves.

On a personal level however, I have strong opinions and a very strong belief system which I tend to keep to myself unless asked, or provoked. It was the latter that caused me to write this post.

There is a relatively new age way of thinking which appears to have grown in popularity over the last decade; in that we each of us chose our own lives prior to birth.

My intuitive hackles have always risen quite unspiritually whenever I have been confronted with this particular concept, especially as it is generally pronounced in a very condescending way, directed at another party who is in the midst of some major challenges.

First and foremost I'd really like to know: Who said?
Who said that this is the way things are?

If we are completely and totally honest we will admit that absolutely nothing that is the basis of any belief system or religion on this earth can be 100% proven. That is not to say that it may not be true. And that is not to say that we don't have the right to believe it. But we have no irrefutable proof. To callously proclaim this kind of dogma to someone who was traumatically sexually abused as a child for example, is at the very least utterly irresponsible and at the most, downright cruel.

This week I heard this same dogma applied to the victims of the earthquake in Haiti. I cannot begin to express my horror at the inhumanity of anyone who can calmly sit back at this time and pronounce "oh well, they chose to come into that life."

I can't wrap my head around that way of thinking. From where I'm standing, all this serves to do is make the person devoid of responsibility to feel anything, respond in any way, or heaven forbid, help another human being. Which is ironic based on the fact that this dogma stems from us taking responsibility for what happens to us in our lives. Their life? Their choice? Not ours to interfere with? Now isn't that just handy? This dogma isn't about responsibility. It's a total cop-out!!!

I don't have any answers. I don't remotely profess to know how this whole thing we call life works. I am lucky enough to be able to work intuitively for others when they ask me to and get guidance and information for them that is always supportive and encouraging. What I do know is that I have never, ever received any information that involved guilt and judgment.

I don't believe that I came into this world being meanly tricked by being forced to chose ghastly experiences for myself. That's pretty sick if you really think about it! I do believe that whoever or whatever created me did so with unconditional love. And I often can't help but wonder what part of the word "unconditional" is it that we still have so much trouble believing?

What happened to humanity? What happened to compassion? What happened to simply acknowledging a person's, a nation's pain? What happened to just giving a damn?

An earthquake hit Haiti. Thousands have been killed. Thousands more are without food or water, and little or no aid a week after the fact, despite what the mass media will have us believe.

Light a candle tonight to show that these people matter. Because they do. They didn't chose what happened to them. But something did. An unfathomable tragedy of epic proportions which is still unfolding. And each and every one of us can take responsibility. Can do something.

We can, at the very, very least, care.

Return of the Light

I felt devastated this last week following the events of the UN Climate Change Conference in Copenhagen. I witnessed humanity facing its darkest hour in history, where billions of people begged for their lives or hope for any kind of future, and having their pleas fall on the deaf ears of many of our world's leaders. What heartened me though was that most of us listened, we really listened, and we heard. And I know we will do whatever it takes.

So this year more that ever I felt the need to celebrate the winter solstice. A few days earlier I brought in from the cold the cedar root that the beautiful man I share my life with unearthed from the beach for me as a house-warming gift. In the warmth the root opened up and took on its role as protector of hearth and home. In the late afternoon I hung lights, my little "soul catchers", stars, hearts, and a few of my favorite things.
I filled the room with candles in tapers, floating in a bowl, groupings here and there. As the sky darkened, we shared in the lighting of the candles and put on the tree lights to celebrate the return of the light.
My home is mostly windows and skylights and we were surrounded by light and repeating reflections. Instead of closing the blinds we left them open, letting the light shine for all to see and enjoy.
In ancient times, people celebrated this time of year to honour their belief that winter would pass and that the light would eventually return. For many people, that hope was all they had to get them through the darkest of days.

In these dark times let us all keep lighting candles of hope. Let us commit to doing whatever we can in our own lives and our communities, make our leaders listen to us, so that we can save this Earth and ALL of it's inhabitants, so that eventually the light will return.

Wishing you all a Happy Solstice ~

In Praise of Unfinished Projects

"Why can't you finish one thing before you start another?" was right up there with "Why can't you just pick one thing and do it right?" when I was growing up. I ignored both pieces of advice. Adults, well-meaning friends, teachers, all insisted that this was the only way to actually get anything accomplished. The result of which I'm sure only made me more determined to find my own way.

I have amazing focus when I want. When I find something that interests me I throw myself in the deep end, consumed for weeks, months or even years until I am completely saturated. I just have more than one obsession on the go at any given time – sort of like the books I read… Learning rather than completion matters more to me.

"Once you have understood that it's the work that counts, and not the reward, you'll be happy" a teacher wrote in my journal when I was ten. Considering that I disagreed with exams on principle, I can only imagine how I embraced this sacrilegious concept!

I LOVE Unfinished Projects! There, I've said it. I mean, how else can you get that sense of finishing a whole bunch of stuff in one go? Fifteen years ago I ran a "Sock of the Month Club" and knitted up one sock for every month of the year ahead as class samples. Every year or so I would complete the "other" sock and have a whole new pair! This winter I may just finish the very last one, a heavy mustard sock that will mark the end of an era. I can't remotely relate to the fact that I should have finished this 15 years ago. I'm just ecstatic at how great they are going to look with my new purple sweater… if I get them finished, that is…. And as for the red pair I started two years ago, wait till I wear them with the stunning red Roots boots my friend found for me at the thrift store last winter!

Whenever I have an art show coming up, I simply turn to my crate of Unfinished Projects and within a week I can have several new "finished" pieces without any of the "burning the candle at both ends" syndrome.

My recent West Coast Reflections series grew from a host of unfinished watercolours.

Then there are all those collages that would never have come into being if it were not for the unfinished wannabe's loitering around the studio.

One of my most important pieces of art has grown from an "unfinished project" of several years back, and has launched a whole new series earmarked for a groundbreaking solo show next summer.

So come on, join the revolution, DON'T finish that project – you'll be amazed at what happens if you dare!

Knitting content

The last few days here on Gabriola the rain has been bucketing down - hardly suprising considering we live in a rain forest - but we've been spoilt this year. Since early Spring we've had magnificent weather. So all this rain is taking a little getting used to... again.

For me, it's been the perfect opportunity to spend more time indoors, snug and warm with candles lit, pots of homemade soup simmering on the stove, baking in the oven, hot chocolate and... my knitting!

I've been a knitter on and off most of my life, oft times neurotic, sometimes sporadic but it is something I've always come back to. It's one of those things I begin to look forward to as Summer comes to a close. My thoughts turn to unfinished projects from the previous year, and new yarns or patterns I have somehow accummulated since. As the Fall colours begin to show, I pull out my knitting basket and plan my projects. By the time the leaves have fallen and my body begins to slow down for the winter months, my fingers start to itch to have something to do in the evenings.

And this year I realised that knitting is a barometer for how I am weathering. I only knit when I am relaxed and my life is in balance. When I finally pick up the bamboo needles and feel the yarn running through my fingers as I begin to knit through another winter, I know that I am, quite simply, content.

So that's what I have been up to...

On the previous post I inserted information about launching a line of SoulSpeak greeting cards as a gift set - so now you know what those lines of cards were all about in my previous studio photos!
Busy working on more sets of SoulSpeak cards~ I'm happy to say I can't work fast enough! How very luck I am to be looking forward to each new day to work some more at what I love ~

SoulSpeak Cards

Gentle, supportive and inspirational insights come to me while working as an Intuitive. I create SoulSpeak greeting cards from recycled, discarded, or handmade scraps of paper to reflect my interpretation of the meaning of the words.

This set of four original designs are printed on cards stick, individually hand enhanced with painting, collage and embossing, so that each card becomes an original in its own right.

The cards are left blank inside for you to add your own personal message... or simply sign the cards and let the words speak for you. SoulSpeak cards are designed to be kept and cherished, framed individually, or as a set of insights to reflect upon or live by.

Once we have held in our hearts

what we know to be our truth

it is impossible to let go

of who we are

In the mirror of lmy mind

I catch a glimpse

of who I choose

to become

We could all see

what's within

if we let go long enough to become it

Who you are

is what you know in your heart

to be true

Details
5" x 7" (approx. 12.5 x 18 cm)
Printed on white heavy weight card stock
Blank inside
Whilte mailing envelope
Packaged in individual cellophane sleeve
Suitable for framing

Payment and Shipping Information

Cdn $ 25.00/per set of four includes shipping and handling to Canada and the U.S. Overseas orders will include an additional shipping charge. Please inquire.

TO ORDER

Email me at byshena@shaw.ca the number of sets you want, your mailing address, and your choice of payment:

Paypal: Use the button on this site or I will invoice you through paypal directly
Cdn Money Order: I will invoice you directly

Please note:
Both the words and images are the original work of Shena Meadowcroft and subject to copyright protection. Thank you for respecting that neither my words or images can be reproduced, saved, altered or used in any way.

On being perfect...

For years I've fought the urge to have everything "perfect" before starting anything, and while I have won most of the battles, most of the time, against that particular monster, occasionally it rears its ugly head just to see if it still has a chance.

And so it's been the last little while. Admittedly after months of packing, unpacking, moving, settling, then moving again, I was getting a little jaded, and with it being a particularly busy summer with shows and sales I hadn't been able to get my house unpacked and a lot of things out of storage. I can only operate in a state of chaos for so long and then I draw the line, and it is usually at that point that the perfection monster sees his chance and grabs it.

I had spent the last month focussing entirely on getting my house and then my studio "in order" and the time invested has certainly paid of. But I was aware that I was running out of things to "organise" and sort. Today when I woke up the plan (again) was to tame the studio once and for all! I went to the loft, moving stuff up the stairs as I went, and spent about an hour sorting and tidying. Suddenly I realised that even though there was still a lot to do I was well past that point where you know it's only a matter of time till it all pulls together. And that what I really wanted to do in this space that I had worked so hard to create was... create!

So I spent a wonderful afternoon up in my new studio working. And what a day it was... The sun was breaking through the rain clouds, glistening on the water the studio overlooks, "Prayer for Peace" was playing softly on the CD player, a mug of yarrow tea waited nearby. In no time I found myself in the wonderful meditative space that seems to find me whenever I take up my brush or needle. I chose to begin by touching up by hand a set of four greeting cards in my line of "SoulSpeak" cards, each one slightly different, no two ever the same. The messages written on them will touch each recipient in different ways.

Was my house perfect? Not by a long shot! Is my studio exactly as I want it yet? Not in many ways. I don't have the right storage yet for everything, there is too much stuff on the floor and, well... still too much "stuff." Yet it felt great being up there in my tiny loft, sun streaming in through the windows, paintbrush in hand, the lines of cards growing without me even noticing, glancing probably way too often out the window, supper cooking in the kitchen below. As the shadows lengthened, I put the tops on the paint pots, planned my work for tomorrow and went for a walk along the beach in the setting sun, returning home to spend an evening with my love.

So the house isn't perfect yet, nor the studio, but you know what? Today was...