Friday, March 1, 2013

February rains


The rains have fallen as they tend to do here in the month of February, and cold dampness often got into our bones.  I am not sad to see this month end.  There were good things and stresses all wrapped up together.  The clumps of time seeming endless but rushing by at the same time.

Around us the earth is awakening here, slowly but surely.  Ambitious friends already have greens from their garden, the tulip shoots are rising out of our front bed and I've been studying the seed catalog and making ever new plans of what to try and grow.

One of the wonderful parts of the month was learning that my piece sold in the art show I was in.  Through the generosity of this art supporter I made my first art sale.  A surreal moment on this journey that swept me up and really all began with a late night summer tarot read.

The cards on that warm night said that this direction was the right one, that I had to go full force and make manifest.  The warmth of that message, my friend who read them to me, and the fire we had just left carried me through the fall winds, winter freeze and past all my worries and doubts in my ability to make it happen.

This month we will travel to Quebec and visit my family and friends.  So many dear faces and memories will wrap around us.  More and more these days I pull out hand made items to remind us of our dear ones who are far away.  I am lucky to have many crafters in my family.  My mother's afghans, a quilt, a rug, and a cross stitch.  My grandmother's quilt, knit socks, knit dishcloths, embroidered place mats, mittens, scarves and toques.  My aunt's quilt for Ky and needlepoint that was a wedding gift.  My sister's cross stitch, also a wedding gift.  All of these things shelter us, and are pulled over or looked at in the cold rain to keep in the warmth and remind us of our roots.

When you live far from your family you need the reminder of these soft things.  Their energy was put into them and remains as you use them.  I've made many things with the energy of their intended recipient worked in.  As things are made I think of that person wearing them or looking at them.  It was very surreal when my art piece sold because for many weeks I had no idea who had purchased it.  I wondered where it would go and marveled that it was no longer mine and I would never see it again.  Luckily the man was generous and shared his email so I could contact him and when I did I received a wonderful reply.
So the foreign feeling of letting the piece go has subsided into a reassured feeling that he was meant to find this art and keep it for his own.  And that my future mission (should I choose to accept it) is to keep making and fulfilling the needs of others to look and share and perhaps keep an experience.
Desert Path, Embroidery & Quilting on original cotton printed photo, 2012

All this while the February rains pelted or slowly pattered down.