bee creative

practice transformation

On Thursday I had some time so I made inks, lake pigments (still in the process of finishing them) and a few rust experiments.  All based on onion skins or the remains.

*

Thinking of onions.  

Layered and complex.  

Raw, they might make you cry.  

Cooked, they are sweet and subtle. 

*

One bottle above is an ink made with onion skin and water. It's the base for the other four, each including a different modifier to shift the color.

One of the lake pigments. 

A bright spot.

I also layered in some of the onion skins with fabric to make rust prints.

The hearts you might find are deliberate, not the product of chance.

 

This month I am reading See No Stranger by Valarie Kaur.

A bit to consider from a podcast conversation between Kaur and Brene Brown: 

“I realized that we’re co-creating culture every second with every breath we take, every word we say, every choice we make and that it’s possible to practice the world that we want in the spaces between us.” Valarie Kaur

One of the things that I am been thinking about is the need to practice making decisions; for both adults and children.  That this is a muscle that we need to exercise in small ways so that when the big decisions come we won't freeze. 

How do we practice? 

Within the process of making and being creative are so many opportunities to make decisions. 

The figure above was originally the back of a project.  I decided that I liked it better and so it become the side that would show. 

I was going to stitch the features of a face in but I've decided to leave it empty, without expression.

 

Two On Being conversations that I have revisited recently:

Jane Hirshfield

Ann Hamilton

I know I have quoted this before but again...

And there’s so many forms for making.... I love reading the dictionary. And the Oxford English Dictionary has I don’t know many pages devoted to “to make,” and “making,” and all of its possibilities. And I think that’s like making — it’s the same as making a list of all the materials that exist in the world that you might transform in some way. It’s like, if you make that list and you take the list of every — all the possibilities of what “making” is, that can just keep you busy forever.  Ann Hamilton

light and bright

Flowers from the farmer's market, greenhouse grown.  I bought them from the farmer that I used to buy ginger from, also greenhouse grown here. He hasn't grown any ginger for the last few years.  I asked him if he was this year and he said, "maybe."

A gift from my mother, solar powered.

The power of stored energy.

something we can do

For January, February, and March the local farmer's market is once a month.

Today was the day!

The weather has been so mild up until this week that there were still things like radishes and lettuce (hoop/green house grown though). I'll use some of the radicchio for a salad with oranges.

In the garden I still have celery growing in my little hoop house. I used some of it on top of my lunch today.

Yes, I almost burnt the cashews.

The recipe I followed (more closely than usual) was one for "Sticky cauliflower with cashews," from The Secret of Cooking by Bee Wilson.  I've been wanting to try it for quite awhile and will definitely make it again.

I mention going to the farmer's market frequently, that I try to choose local as much as possible.  It's important to me for many reasons, but mostly because it is a way I can participate in my local economy. To be clear, this isn't about valuing local over global, but about valuing both.  And this brings me back to my current reading...

I am only about half way through Rebecca Solnit's book A Paradise Built in Hell, but would say that a major take away is about the importance of building community and of knowing your neighbors. Ideally before a disaster hits, but definitely afterwards. 

(For those who have read Parable of the Sower, consider how Lauren keeps building communities.) 

This bit from Solnit's book has me thinking:

The religious language of awakening suggests we are ordinarily sleepers, unaware of each other and of our true circumstances and selves.  Disaster shocks us out of slumber, but only skillful effort keeps us awake." 

Staying awake...staying curious, noticing, being present, participating when we can.

Those things seem like something we can do, something that I think many of us are already doing. 

That gives me hope.

ethereal

Mussels are not recommended for making pigment...at least not on a regular basis and not without safety precautions.  They accumulate toxic metals in their shells.

Just once I wanted to try it.

On Wednesday I gathered a small handful of shells (and a piece of brick) and brought them home to make pigment with.

The brown below is a soil pigment.

The mussel pigment is ethereal...

 

field notes

Last night I almost posted these images and the title "quietly;" along with just a few words like ...look at what's blooming in the garden still and here's another pigment.

I decided to wait though, there was something more that I just wasn't finding the words for. This is some of it..

Yesterday Grace wrote about "field notes." 

It's an idea I've loved for a long time, the idea of gathering observations and documenting what is seen/experienced in the environment.  As a way of documenting, I love that there is an intent of curiosity and of noticing with field notes.

(I am thinking a lot about the aspect of research versus participant though...something to consider later.)

I believe that we take care of the things we notice (loved Nancy's noticing); that we take care of the things we feel a part of.

And that brings me to Christmas...

This year I am really aware of how it is a holiday of care giving.   

Last week while picking one of my brothers up so he could get his car, I gathered a bit of clay from the bank of the road he lives on. 

I will give him a few pigment dots tomorrow, but want to make him something more.

It won't be done as a gift for Christmas this year. 

He won't mind.

P.S.  It is interesting to me how close in color it is to what I collected at the beach.  He lives about 10 miles inland on a lake.

commitments

Today's walk took me by this...

I am looking at mushrooms/fungi with the thought, can I make a pigment with this?  Pretty sure this one won't work.

Yesterday's walk led to a holiday market. 

There were temptations and this was mine. 

Local wool... how could I say no to something named "flocks and flowers?"  And the roving? So soft. 

December is so much about shopping in our culture.  I've been thinking about my choice to shop locally or from a small business as much as possible. How this isn't possible or doesn't seem possible to some. It's a commitment that has encouraged me towards being creative at times.

I have also been thinking about the word economy and what it means.  About home economics. 

I am planning on posting everyday this month.  Mostly about what is beautiful and joyful in the season...but also acknowledging that this is a time of year that can become complicated with expectations and choices. 

 

 

r,s,t... I have to go backwards to go forward

Rest and release...I suppose I have been indulging in some.  I've been going through days either so involved in what I am doing that there hasn't been room for anything else or so full of thoughts that I can't find the words I want. 

Story ... Something I've been thinking about. About a month ago Nancy wrote a post about the things we save and why. 

I've been thinking about how story adds value to what we choose to have in our lives. It's not just about sentimentality or usefulness. 

I've realized that I am always layering story into and onto what I make and what I choose to save.  The deeper I can go, the more connections there are, the more story there is.

The more story there is, the happier I am.*

For example:

Transform...from brick to pigment.  I love brick as a pigment because it is a building material.  The brick for the pinkish pigment below came from the waterfront; a fragment of location and the history of where I live.

The black is a charcoal ink.  Made from plants (blackberry, rose, hazelnut, quince) from my garden or my parent's.

The brown is an ink made from coffee beans.  Thinking about how they are seeds.  How they came from very far away from here.

And do you see the human figure, making and thinking so hard there is steam coming out of her ears?  I didn't see this until I covered the bottom paper with another layer while I was playing.

Thinking about how it is our nature, human nature, to create meaning and story. 

*I just finished listening to This is Happiness by Niall Williams.  I've also listened to History of the Rain and loved them both.  They might not be for everyone as there isn't a linear story line that is plot driven. The story is built up through layers of character development and descriptions of location. Williams writing is beautiful. 

 

return and reflect

What do I come back to? 

The garden, reading, the beach, rearranging things in my home, color, yarn, sewing...

I know making paper and baskets will be added to this.

And reflection...as in thinking, the kind where you are considering but not necessarily making a decision or doing research.

I've been thinking about why I make and what I make.  They are kind of heavy questions right now when I consider the state of the world.  How much of a privilege it is to ask that question.

Unless I have a specific project, this is the last year that I will buy any materials for dyeing with the fresh indigo.  I have enough to make several things and it's time to focus on some other things. 

I do still want to grow indigo though. What I will do is add another layer of color to things that I have been dyeing. And then I can make pigment because this is something that I can keep using in a way that is a better use of resources for me.  

Making a lake pigment, not sure if this will work but it looks promising!

There is so much paper in this world...and I love making paper.

  It's a great way to make recycling personal. 

I used the leftover walnut/marigold dye bath for this paper. Also a bit of a hop flower and marigold seeds

My assistants as I reflected on all this:

They are laying on top of my collection of handmade paper and some scraps I've been using for a project. 

They do love a box.

 

R...

Rose hips...so much potential. 

I could make a syrup or a jam.

Or ink.  It wouldn't turn out red. When I've made it in the past it's a soft pink. 

They could also be strung for a decoration. 

Resilient.  Being out in the garden and making things helps.

I've been soaking black beans today. 

It was so tempting to keep the liquid for dye but I didn't.

Release.

I am working on letting go.  This just wasn't something I could find time for today. 

There is also letting go of things.  I am working on that too. 

Recipes...I think we all know that I am not good at them.  Baked apple, yogurt, and granola (oats, sesame seeds, sunflower seeds, pumpkin seeds, honey, molasses, sugar, salt, and butter).

Return...thinking about that.  Things that return. 

 

q....questions

The basic questions: Who? What? Why? When? How? 

The questions I listed out this morning:

What can I make with this?

indigo dyed yarn, I have a plan.

How was that made?

How can this be useful?

Handmade paper scraps. I need to start over with the paper lantern I was covering.

What am I trying to say?

Why am I doing this?

Willow branches brought home from work.

What was I thinking? (Said from a place of being overwhelmed.)

Will this work?

What am I feeling? (I don’t always know.)

Why did that happen?

When will I find the time? (When is not a question I ask much.)

Hops from the garden, the edge of a dye pot and a stack of wood scraps I brought home because they were going in the garbage. I am going to practice wood burning on the wood scraps...someday.

How do we become who we are?

Why do children have so much creativity and adults question theirs so much? What happened?

Why is creativity so important?

Where should I start?

What was this used for?

What would that taste like?

Would it be better if I did this?

So much of making starts with a question... So much of life is about questions.

Jude brought up quality of life this morning. 

That's been on my mind too... What does that look like?  How do we balance the present, which is what we have, with what we need in the future?  It's a big question for me right now.   

Ear worm of the moment: