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!
I’m home! I have a long way to go recuperating from surgery, but I’m home and it is lovely to be here with my family and the comforts of home. There is a lot I could say about the last couple of months. But it is still forming in my mind and heart and feels too raw and dear to put out there in a blog. I have no idea whether I will ever write here about this experience, this lenten journey I’ve been on. In so many amazing ways, I was indeed led to a quiet place. Not one I would have chosen myself. And I do feel I am still on this path.
The beautiful thing about this path is that it has been strewn with flowers! And cards! The above watercolor I made prior to landing in the hospital. My husband, Randy, brought home a bunch of gorgeous flowers for me. I can remember during those hideous days of nearly 24/7 living in a bathroom, that the few moments I had to draw or paint were such a welcome diversion. Once in the hospital, where I stayed for three weeks, the flowers were lavishly sent…tulips, azaleas, dahlias, carnations, roses, mixed bouquets, etc. And the cards…wow, the cards! They are still coming! I love looking at and reading each one. The thoughts and sentiments behind each bouquet and each card overwhelm me, in a good way. The outpouring of concern and care has been staggering. Randy and I are so very grateful.
I only wish that I could’ve made a little painting of each and every bouquet. I do have some pen sketches in my writing journal that I made in the early days at the hospital when they were trying to arrest the Ulcerative Colitis by different medications, none of which my body seemed to respond to. The flowers kept coming in even after surgery and the second surgery. The beautiful azalea is now planted in our front yard, and I look forward to it blooming every year.
One of the things I long to hang onto from all of this, is a slower pace in life. To that end, I will not be blogging as often as I used to. I’m considering combining my three blogs into one, and continuing Letters to An Artist on an “as I can” basis. When you’re given a new lease on life, it is only natural to rethink how you’ve been living and make a few changes. I hope, dear reader, that you will continue to check in with me here on Drawn2Life. There is so much Beauty to share with you. And as always, I hope you’ll join me in looking for and creating a bit of beauty in your own life.
A grand THANK YOU to all of you who have sent healing thoughts, prayed for me, wished me well over the last month. I am truly grateful for each of you.
This is where I’m longing to be lately. Yes, I’d love for the weather to be pretty and warm enough for drawing at the Factory Courtyard, but I’m also longing for quiet spaces, a less frenetic life. With that in mind, I’m going to take a break from all my blogs except for Letters To An Artist. I’m planning for this break to coincide with Lent (which begins tomorrow!:), and resume here on Drawn2Life after Easter. I’m also planning on taking a break from Facebook too.
I hope the next 40 days are filled with drawing and inspiration and deeper creative roots, for you and me.
I love the French “au revoir!” It doesn’t have the same feel of finality as our Good Bye. Au Revoir literally means: til we see each other again!
Chris Federico, the owner of Eclection in downtown Kernersville, has opened the arms of her shop to the faithful few who love to come out and draw. We are really grateful for such a beautiful spot to be indoors for the cold weather, to have so many wonderful things to draw, to sip delicious tea, and even shop the unique, eclectic creations there if we want to!
Even though there are only one or two others who draw with me, I love having this regular spot in my week to get out in the world and draw. This is just one of the many drawings I’ve made this winter while sitting in the lovely “living room”. Each week it is arranged and decorated differently, using some of the unique creations from the shop. One time Chris even set up a still life for us to draw, gathering this and that off the “floor”. Now THAT’s rolling out the red carpet!
I won’t be able to be there this Friday, due to the Art Show happening the night before and needing to either recuperate from that or go in and do some tidying up from the show. But I look forward to next Friday, and the next. If you’re in the area on a Friday morning…come draw with us! Chris would love to have you!
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.
So the point of this rather odd little sketch made completely out of my head, is to ask a question: Who is he?
There’s this man, who stands on the side of Sedge Garden Rd. near the intersection with Kernersville Rd. He’s there every morning when I take Maddie to school. He’s there every afternoon when she needs to be picked up from after school activities. I began to notice him last Spring. And I’ve seen him there ever since.
He is always holding something up to his mouth or ear that looks like an old cell phone. He’s often talking into it. Sometimes, he has a pipe also. My sketch, all wonky and out of scale, seems to show him looming on the sideline. He actually blends into the wintry surroundings with his woodsy coat and hat. I wonder if others notice him at all.
My imagination takes hold of me…is he an undercover agent recording the comings and goings of a particular person? Is he a granddad who watches his grandkids walk to school and back while talking on the phone with a friend? Is he a writer recording the daily events of cars and passersby at a single intersection? Will my white Mazda 5 wind up in a short story or novel someday? Is he, as my husband suggests, simply listening to a CB radio? Does he live in the side-of-the-road trailers and this is his “front porch”? Does he need to come outside in order for his cell phone to have any reception?
No matter the season, no matter the weather, this guy is there. There’s a part of me that wants to stop and ask him kindly someday what he’s up to. To know his story. To discover the character behind the mystery. But then again, part of me doesn’t. The wondering about it all is just too fun!
Do you have mystery people like this in your neighborhood or town? Kernersville seems to have quite a few. I wrote about (and drew) this guy several years ago. I did actually stop and ask him if I could take his photograph, to which he replied, “Five dollah, five dollah!” So I paid him the $5 and got a few good reference pics for the drawings. There’s also a dancing man at the corner of one of our major intersections. He isn’t so much a mystery (since he’s gotten a good bit of press:) but he’s certainly a character we consider to be Kernersville’s own. All these folks make small town living interesting and delightful.
He rises quietly at 4:30 am every Sunday. He sits in the Big Chair with laptop, Bible, and commentaries. All week long he’s been studying for this. And now comes the moment of truth.
It is much like the chef. The chef who has gathered, assembled, prepared all the items for the exquisite meal. Who now stands in the kitchen ready to put it all together. Will it be good? Will it come together on time?
It is much like the cyclist. The cyclist who has put in the miles and miles of road. Who now faces the mountain climb. Has he prepared enough? Will he make it to the top without crashing and burning?
It is much like the artist. The artist who has sketched the preliminary drawings. Who has created the thumbnails of compositions and color combinations. Who now stands at the easel in hopes that it will come together in a pleasing whole, a final work that will delight the recipient with Beauty.
It is the same for a Pastor. A Pastor who longs to feed his flock rich, substantive food. A Pastor who desires his people to remain faithful as they climb the mountain. Who wants them to be able to see their lives from heaven’s viewpoint. A Pastor who earnestly wishes his hearers to be captivated by the Beauty of Christ and to take that Beauty with them out into their daily lives.
The Pastor does this week in and week out. It can be exhausting and frustrating. But it is his calling, his art, his work. I look forward to it every week and today I will not be able to hear it in person. But I shall listen later this week when it gets posted to the website. If you have any interest in hearing good words for your soul, click here to listen to the Pastor, my pastor, my husband. xxxooo
Early this morning I felt the need to draw the chaos that is my desk. A true picture of the shape of my life right now: mounds of papers from school (both mine and my kids), yarn, end-of-year tax gathering, yarn, knitting patterns and projects, yarn, books I’m “reading”, oh and did I mention yarn?
For whatever reason, I just needed to draw it. This is me, my life right now. It wasn’t bugging me too badly at all. There was actually some sense of delight in the flurry of stuff! But what happened immediately upon drawing the chaos, I cannot explain to you.
I began tidying up! Who knew? Who knew that in drawing the mess, a bit of motivation would appear to straighten it up! Could it be that if we are in need of motivation for anything, that all we have to do is simply DRAW IT? And we just might find ourselves doing the very thing we thought, “I have no time for that!”
Crazy, this drawing life. It continues to amaze me.
P.S. In case you’re wondering…I drew this with fine liner pens early in the morning, then added a splash of watercolor this afternoon when I had a few moments. For me, art is not always available in two-hour long chunks. I gotta take it when I can, a few minutes here, a few there! When you draw in the early morning, you have the satisfaction of “well, at least I got one drawing in today” for the rest of the day. But you might find that in the early morning bleariness, you accidentally drew with your sketchbook upside down, as I discovered later today.
In my job as Art Teacher at Redeemer School, I have mounds and mounds of artwork to prepare for our Annual Art Show which will take place February 7th. This includes backing each piece of art with construction paper to act as a mat to set off the art. It also means adding a label to each piece identifying who the artist is and what grade they’re in. I teach the TK, and K-8th grades. With around 150 students who have created 4-5 pieces each, that’s a staggering 600+ pieces to get ready.
I’ve begun the process, and took a few moments to draw the mound. I have a wonderful, old, wooden structure which I think might’ve been used for poster board, that I keep all my students 2-D work in. Each slot is a different class. Then there are trays of clay works and other various pieces the student’s have made since the beginning of the year. I take one class at a time, trying not to think of the whole thing, since it really can overwhelm me. But it is fun to look back through at the amazing work these kids have done! Can’t wait to show you some of it in February, after the show.
I drew this in my trusty Aquabee Sketchbook, using my usual Prismacolor Fineliner Pens. But I pulled out the watercolors that my students use and grabbed a brush I thought would do. It’s amazing how different materials shake things up a bit. In order to get the vibrancy I typically get with my own artist grade watercolors, I had to go over the strokes a couple of times with the student grade paints. If you’re able, do treat yourself to artist grade materials…it will make a difference in not only the outcome of your work, but the enjoyment level while creating it as well!
