Knitterly Notes

 

Have I ever told you I love to knit?  

And so I have…here and here and here. The only thing better than knitting, is to draw or paint what I’m knitting or crocheting. I loved making this little painting of my hands knitting a scarf. Mind you, this lace scarf was begun several years ago…but I have finished it! And I’ll give you a proper reveal soon!

So here’s the photograph I worked from to create the above painting. I thought you might like to see the reference photo and how it gets translated into line and watercolor. I also thought you might like to see some of the projects I’ve been happily working on of late.

 

I knitted this little cupcake hat for my niece’s one year birthday back at the beginning of March, the early days of my U.C. diagnosis. That’s my beautiful sister with her fifth child, Brynley.

Then I finished this pair of socks, which I wore and wore through the chilly days. For some reason, I kept messing up on grafting the toe together. I’ve done the kitchener stitch successfully many times before, but a brain glitch prevented me from getting it right on both of these socks. Of course, I made it work somehow so the socks hold together without being uncomfortable.

So, on THIS sock, finished just recently, I was delighted to work the Kitchener stitch correctly! Yay! Maybe my recent surgery re-worked my brain as well!

And I love the colors in this yarn!!!!!

This is a random photo of the basket of yarns I used for my Resurrection Shawl. 

And this is the beginning of another multi-yarned confection, all in creams and whites! I have quite a vision of this shawl in its finished state…we’ll see how it all turns out.:)

And a photo of me knitting on our front stoop. This was taken prior to being in the hospital, hoping and praying that the medications I was on would put the U.C. into remission. There’s something about this photo I like… 1. I love knitting outdoors, even if it means wearing a coat and knitted hand mitts. 2. Knitting became synonymous with “hope” during my recent illness. Knitting and Hope…I like that.

Well, that’s enough for now…I’ll share more “knitterly notes” with you soon. I’ll be stocking the Shoppe with some new items soon…more on that coming up!

**Thank you so much for visiting me here on Drawn2Life!! I can’t thank you enough for sharing in these creative ventures with me!

***And…if you ever wanted to take up knitting, try my little photo tutorial HERE. I haven’t yet transferred it over from Drawn2Knit. It will happen someday. For now, check there for free patterns and tutorials.

****ANNDDD….if you’d like to try your hand at drawing/sketching OR need a little boost or encouragement to get back into it…check out my Drawing Your Life Mini Lessons. These were offered last year and still receive a lot of traffic.  I hope it’s helpful to you all!

“The Fringes of a Dress…”

Where Dwellest Thou?

O what is it that wanders in the wind?

And what is it that whispers in the wood?

What is the river singing to the sun?

Why this vague pain in every charmed sense,

This yearning, keen suspense?

 

Often I’ve seen a garment floating by,

fringe of it only; golden brown as it lay

On the ripe grasses, fern-green on the ferns,

And in the wood, like bluebells’ misty blue

Whitened with mountain dew.

 

I laid me low among the mountain grass;

I laid me low among the river fern;

I hid me in the wood and tried to hold

The lovely wonder of it as it passed,

And tried to hold it fast.

 

It slipped like sunshine through my eager hands;

See, they are dusted as with pollen dust,

Soft dust of gold, and soft the sense of touch,

Soft as the south wind’s sea-blown evening kiss;

But I have only this…

 

This dust of vanished gold upon my hands,

This breath of wind blowing upon my hair,

Stirring of something near, so near, but far,

Glimm’ring through color’s fleeting preciousness–

The fringes of a dress.

 

O Wearer of that garment, of its hem,

Hardly perceived, can thrill us, what must Thou,

Its Weaver and its Wearer, be to see?

Master, where dwellest Thou? O tell me now,

Where dwellest Thou?

 

The grasses turned their golden heads away,

And shyer and more wistful stood the ferns;

The little flowers looked up with puzzled eyes;

Only the river, who is all my own,

Left me not quite alone…

 

But mixed his music with my human cry,

Till somewhere from the half-withdrawing wood

Sounds of familiar footsteps: Is it Thou?

Master, where dwellest Thou? O speak to me.

And He said, “Come and see.“

 

-Amy Carmichael

from a collection of her poetry titled, Toward Jerusalem.

 

**May you enjoy this poem today and walk through the day’s moments with an awareness that they are but fringes of His dress.  

Dare

I’ve been using the photos I took from a recent trip to the Ciener Botanical Gardens, to create some little drawings/paintings. The crazy thing about tulips is the vast variety of them! Round and bowl-like, spiky and sharp, lots o’ petals, few petals, etc. This one caught my eye with it’s pointed petals and lovely color pattern…standing out amongst the crowd.

I’ve always felt like the phrase, “Dare to Be Different”, meant that I needed to go and change who I am, do things I wouldn’t normally do, etc. But this tulip made me think that the ultimate in “being different” is to simply be who you were made to be. Sometimes we expend so much energy trying to be what we are not! Certainly it’s good to try new things, to go on adventures, to be daring! But our “differentness” is actually found in being who we were made to be…whether that’s round and bowl-like, spiky and sharp, lots o’ petals or few……;)

May your day be one in which you “Dare to be Yourself!”

**Brian Rutenberg’s most recent Studio Visit 29 speaks to this in the later section of the video. Pretty cool stuff…you’ll enjoy! (Click on the highlighted words:)

**AND…if you’re interested, here are some other posts of mine on Brian Rutenberg and his Studio Visits….here, here, and here!

The Unbearable Lightness of Being

 

I woke to a chilly morning with sunlight streaming in our home and dancing around the landscape of our neighborhood. As I began to get things ready for Maddie to have breakfast and go off to school, I thought of this phrase…”the unbearable lightness of being”.  I’ve never seen the movie or read the book, but I did just look up what meaning might be attached to this phrase. And while I’m still uncertain as to its exact meaning, I gather the gist of “lightness” and “weightiness”, which is exactly what’s been going through my head.

This “lightness of being”, this joy upon waking to sunshine, the gladness to be alive and able to move around pain free… it is sometimes so exquisite or heavy that it could be described as “unbearable”.  I had this same feeling in the weeks following the birth of my children…a deep joy that comes out in tears, a feeling that one is too small or fragile to contain the hugeness of Beauty that’s been given. Such is my morning here in Kernersville, NC. Who am I to have been granted LIVING? As the weight of this thought falls on me, I feel a lightness that makes me want to stand up under it and fling paint, knit riotous colors, walk for miles and miles in the sunshine, and drink in the faces of my loved ones!

I’m wishing you a “lightness of being” kind of day! Maybe not “unbearable”, but definitely palpable and real!

Face Like a Flint

 

Thank you, thank you one and all for your unbelievably kind, sweet, and encouraging words in the last post! I am indeed surrounded by so many who are supporting me in my recovery. There is much more I could tell you about the last couple of months. So many amazing ways I have been carried and bound up in a wonderful lenten journey. Perhaps someday I will write it all out. But for now, I’m wanting to turn the corner. To round the bend as it were and set my face like a flint to what is ahead. (Isaiah 50:7)

This proves to be very difficult some days. Every few days I am hit with an emotional state which I can only describe as grieving. Perhaps it’s grieving all that has happened to my body. Maybe grieving the life I used to have before surgery and an ileostomy. I don’t really know it’s source, other than medical people telling me it is due to all the medications and trauma I’ve had. Whatever it is, I endure these days only by simply riding them out. BE-ing where I am.

Nonetheless, I want to move forward. Even if it is only baby steps, I still want to look for and rejoice in the small improvements I’m experiencing along the way. One of the days soon after I got home from the hospital, my husband took me to our Ciener Botanical Gardens. The tulips were in full force!! Their upturned faces to the sun made me think of that verse in Isaiah which speaks to setting our faces like a flint, unashamed, unmoved by circumstances, to face what is ahead, whatever that might be. I took a bunch of photos that day.

And just a few days ago, I felt well enough to stand for a length of time at my drawing table and create this page. There will be more to come. It felt so good to be drawing and painting again. I look forward to being well enough to draw with my friends on Fridays downtown Kernersville. I look forward to being able to drive again and cart my kids to the places they go. I look forward to a lot, and I need patience to wait for them.

Thank you again for your faithful visits here and for comments you make! I read every one of them and they make my heart leap! I hope each of you can find some time to create something. I know it brings healing.

Resurrection Shawl

When I received the diagnosis that I had Ulcerative Colitis, and the medicines that were intended to put it into remission, I had such hope of recovery! I wanted to make something through the recovery period that would be a part of  my healing and then represent God’s faithfulness to me as I wrapped it around me.  The above drawing is what I sketched out as I envisioned this shawl. I was also asking my Father that I might be well enough to wear it on Easter Sunday. I drew this in mid March.

As events played out, I was unable to wear this Easter Sunday. I had my colon removal surgery on Good Friday and was in the hospital on Easter. I couldn’t knit during the three weeks I was there, too many pic lines and iv’s going in and out to make it a comfortable endeavor. But when I got home, I began, very slowly to continue work on what I was calling my Resurrection Shawl.  Here are some pics of different views of it. I have been so pleased with how it turned out. Crocheted flowers appliquéd onto a loosely knitted simple shawl. I used all kinds of things to knit with: lace, ribbon, and all sorts of colors and textures of yarn. A few things changed from the original sketch. It was so fun to see it come to life.

And this past Sunday, I felt well enough to go to church and sit with my church family to worship. I wore my Resurrection Shawl as a testimony to my Heavenly Father’s faithfulness to carry me through a rather horrendous ordeal. He is still carrying me…knitting me together one day at a time.

 

**I am beginning the process of combining my three blogs into one. It may take a while, but you will start to see some changes here at Drawn2Life as other Pages are added, and blog posts are slurped in.  I’m very excited to have all my creative loves under one roof! Like the tagline I recently changed at the top: “Drawing, Knitting, Illustration, Crochet…it’s all Life, it’s all Good!”

Shout from the Rooftops!

As different medications were given to me to try and put the Ulcerative Colitis into remission, I did experience some improvement. And when I did, I wanted to shout it to the world! When you’ve been so miserable, ANY appearance of possible improvement is so exciting!!

But it was very short lived. Only a day or two actually, before my symptoms would go back to what they were, or worse. This pattern continued even in the hospital, as high doses of IV steroids were administered and then a round of Remikade. We all really hoped the Remikade would do the trick. But my colon kept on swelling as the Colitis took over my entire colon. My doctor said the pathology of my disease was rare, in that it was so aggressive and fast growing. Many people who suffer from Ulcerative Colitis are able to manage it with medications and live somewhat “normal” lives, some even without it recurring for years and years. Others endure years of trying different medications, in and out of the hospital to put the disease back into remission.

In many ways, I am very grateful that I will not have to endure years of battling this. To have this disease get to the point, very quickly, where it was about to perforate my colon, was in many ways a mercy. My amazing surgeon caught it just before it perforated, saving me from an even worse ordeal. And now, the colitis is gone! Gone! I am so, so very thankful and relieved.

Now Genevieve can shout from the rooftops, “I’m cured! I’m cured!” Now it’s just a matter of healing from the surgery and getting used to my new normal with the ileostomy. These things seem minor in comparison to what I’ve gone through. There is so much to be thankful for!

*I was able to make my daughter’s oatmeal this morning…and I was grateful that I’m alive to do that.

*I was able to go to church yesterday, cry through the songs, hug people’s necks…and I was so thankful to be able to do that.

*I am able to walk a bit stronger and for a little longer each day…I am so grateful I’m seeing improvement.

*I am needing pain medications less and less…so thankful for that!

*So many little things each day…I try to record them, so I can remember on the days that seem like I’m going backwards in improvement. And there are days like that. They are hard. I try to just be where I am and remember that this too shall pass. And when it does…I have something else to be grateful for!

Not Enough Daffodils

Before I landed in the hospital, colitis had progressed to where my everyday life was pretty miserable. I was rapidly losing strength and weight, due to 15-20 visits to the bathroom a day. I couldn’t go anywhere. And I couldn’t find the energy to do even the simplest of things, like make dinner for my family.

Several women in our church, sweet friends of mine, made a meal for my family. It was such a huge blessing to have dinner provided and not have to muster the energy to make it.  I got it in my head one day, that I wanted to do something to thank them for their generosity.

A favorite blog of mine is Attic 24, whose author Lucy, is all about crochet! She had just posted a tutorial to make a wonderful crocheted daffodil. Though she was using the daffodils for a wreath, she also showed the pin option, and I knew this would be a fun gift for my friends who had made food for us.

You have to know, that all along the way, I kept thinking “I’m going to be better soon! I’m going to be better soon!” I had received the diagnosis, Ulcerative Colitis, and all the medications that were supposed to make me better.  I just wasn’t improving. But I held out hope. Making these little daffodil pins were part of that hope. In between runs to the bathroom, crocheting offered a distraction from how I was feeling, and gave me something to focus on. I could lounge in a chair and make something simple. Creativity is a wonderful gift when you’re sick.

When I had to go to the hospital for more potent meds to stop the colitis and to arrest my dehydration and lack of nutrition, the meals kept coming in for my family. It was so amazing. But I was unable to keep track of who all was bringing a meal OR to even make the daffodils. There comes a time when it becomes impossible to properly thank those who are selflessly giving of their time and lives to help.  This is all part of the lavish grace of God…you can’t repay it, you can’t thank Him enough for it, and will never be able to give thanks in equal measure to the outpouring of mercy you have received.

I am a recipient of grace and mercy.  Lavish, generous, overwhelming grace for which there is nothing to do but to cheerfully receive with gratitude!

Sustainable Art

Last weekend, when Maddie was sick, it made me remember a wonderful morning just a couple of days before with two visiting artist friends from Reidsville. After combing the creations in Eclection, Vintage Jane, and Renew, we sat talking away at Amalfi’s about how to be artists in and around our lives as mothers. It’s a subject near and dear to my heart, as I have tried to work this thing out for nearly 16 years now…pursuing art and all that it encompasses from learning to creating, to exhibiting. Motherhood is perhaps one of the most interruptive jobs one could have. No two days are alike. Just when you get them into the school years, so many other things arise, visits to the doctor, dentist, orthodontist, sports. And of course, sick days halt whatever artistic goal or path you had hoped to pursue that day.

Suffice it to say that I’ve been, for many years, on a quest to find a sustainable art, though I wouldn’t have been able to articulate it that way. A couple of summers ago, on our trip to Michigan, we met up with old friends there. The wife’s job was to work with companies to make what they do more “sustainable”. As I listened to her describe what this meant, I gathered that her job was to help companies do what they want to do in a more humane and gentle way both for their employees as well as for their clients and to the environment. Over the long haul, these new or improved ways of doing things would allow for resources to not be used up, for employee satisfaction and less burn-out, and clients who feel served over a long period of time.  Something about what she was saying made me think that this was what I had been trying to figure out in my artistic life. At the time, I felt I was actually finding the answer.

When I began to paint and draw in earnest at the age of 32, I did so in and around the busy life of a mom of little ones. I grabbed whatever time I could when my children were napping or asleep at night to paint and draw things that would hopefully be purchased in an art show or gallery. Several years into this, it began to feel very difficult to keep up this pace. I was schlepping paintings hither and yon to broaden the exposure of my artwork, while soccer games, gymnastics, church activities, etc. vied for the same slots as the openings for these shows. It was getting increasingly harder to justify the expense of framing all the works on paper (my preferred medium), to buy the tubes of paint, etc. It was also getting harder to find space in our small house to store these paintings if and when they didn’t sell in the exhibit or gallery. It felt incredibly hard to work as an artist of this kind, trying to keep it up. I got to a point where if I only had 30 minutes to paint, well that just wasn’t enough time to really do anything so I just didn’t do any “art” that day. Several of these days strung together and became a year, then two, where I didn’t do any drawing or painting.

Fast forward to this post here, when I discovered Peter Reynolds book, Ish and Danny Gregory’s book, The Creative License. I began to work (play) in a sketchbook, getting down all the “paintings” in my head, using any and every medium I enjoyed, in any and every method I wanted to. Total freedom. Easy on the pocketbook. Much easier to store. Portable. Do-able in and around a busy, chopped up, life of a mom.

What has been most lovely for me is to find working in a sketchbook to be a sustainable art that I can participate in no matter the circumstances of my life. Though I can still draw and paint for an art show when I want to, I am no longer limited to that. I can draw and paint anytime, anywhere: when my kids are sick, or at the orthodontist, or at a college orientation day, or on trips, or at the hospital, or ANYWHERE!

This may not be important to some artists, finding a sustainable art, but it has been to me. And one must find the artistic expression that is authentic to them!  This is also why I love knitting and crocheting…a portable art form that can be sustained in and around a busy life as wife, mother, and teacher.

**Note: The above sketch was made along with My Balloon Tree post. Again, one of those times where the meaning of it is unclear while making it. I see it now with me standing outside my home, Balloon Tree in the backyard with an endless stream of lovely balloons of creativity flowing from it.

Transformative Drawing

I’m not certain I can articulate this well… But there’s something about drawing one’s life which transforms that life. It’s as if by drawing something about your day, your world, your city or town, your home, your yard…you are viewing it through a different lens or filter. This idea came to me afresh as I’ve drawn and painted on these very gray days we’ve been having.

Gray days make me think of England, and when I think of England, I think of tea. My girls and I had a little tea party, something I love to do when I have the chance.

Gray days also make me think of walks on the moors. Where I get this I’m not sure. Perhaps it’s my reading of Bronte works that shapes this thought. But I look out our windows on these gray winter mornings and it’s enchanting…the dark, misty blue, with inky black trees.

I’m aware that sometimes my thoughts precede my drawings. And other times, the drawings precede the thoughts. But it all works together to transform an otherwise dull gray day to something evocative, romantic, enchanting, or just whimsical. Am I merely living in a fantasy world in my head and in my sketchbooks? I don’t think so. I think this is a necessary element to living fully, to drinking the juice from each and every day we’re given. To take the ordinary, the gray, the not-so-desirable and transform it in some way to extraordinary, vibrant, and delightful has got to be part of our lives.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it here again: My pens are the straws through which I drink the juice of life. Won’t you join me this year in drinking deeply of your life…gray days and all!

**Afterword:  Although this post was written and drawn a few days prior to my previous post, it occurs to me now that drawing has the ability to transform on many levels. It not only transforms your outlook, your view on life; it also can transform you, your thoughts, your questions, your frustrations. This is what my Drawing Your Life Mini Lessons are all about. As I work to get these in paper form, enjoy reading through them again. And I’d love to hear from you as you read them, how are they helpful, what do you glean from them? Thanks!