You get the idea that Autumn is getting ushered out quite abruptly, but only after a lovely, long wait. I feel a grand satisfaction on all we have accomplished this Fall. I won't bore you with the details of checklists and chores, but just know this batch of bread has me feeling whole, complete, loved, determined, focused, and even a little playful! Golden High Flow Acrylics dropped into wet layer of Fluid Matte Medium. Now the tough part - DON'T TOUCH! Just let it do its thing. I can see this being great for painting lichen covered rocks into a landscape. Then again the whimsical side of me wants to know if you can find the unintentional seahorse? Now, let's take those same items and tilt and allow to mix and marble. Oooh! Watching a doodle evolve.Needless to say, as the temperatures drop I get a little freer in my creating. I have all winter to try things out and feel the expanse of the whole season in front of me. I realize snow will fly, then need shoveled. Dinners will need cooked leaving more dishes. In other words time will always pass quicker than I want, but for right now I am playing, screwing up, fixing, learning, and sharing along the way. Well, bread is done. See you for the next loaf!
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Welcome to Loaf x Loaf where I'm sharing my creative, mountain winter while the dough rises. This is batch # 2 of the changing season.
These are the cold, low fronts that have me scurrying indoors, peeking out windows to see how low the snow comes down the mountain. Shovels are back on the porch at-the-ready for the turning season. Won't be long now! Autumn reminds me to turn inward as well, to tend the hearth fires, to celebrate harvest’s bounty, and to be thankful for all I have in my little life. I tend to get very domestic this time of year. The household deep cleaning happens now as I usher out the last of summer's pollen and dust. Fall is the perfect time to retreat, to hibernate-for me anyway. Super excited to announce a new way of sharing of my creative adventure! I've never been good at keeping a set schedule, but I do make bread during the winter on a regularly consistent basis. So, I've decided to commit the 2 hours it takes to rise to share what I can. First batch of two baked today. So the first share is the recipe!
Right here, right now. Be present. Focus. Don’t beat yourself up because you haven’t (written a blog in almost a year), feel blessed that you’ve arrived here at this exact moment! Think of your creative time as vacation time. Picture yourself in a remote cabin in the woods on a frosty winter night curled up by the fireplace. Or on a beach of a tiny deserted island predawn happily digging for clams. Or sporting the first scarf of the season, boots kicking at leaves as you stroll to a covered bridge. That brief moment when you notice you are blessed. A quick snapshot of that quintessential moment in your mind’s eye. Before more wood needs split. Before you notice high tide is coming in almost too late. Before your friend hands you a rake. Somewhere before reality seeps in, there is a quiet peace that is filled with a silent strength. There, within that moment, you create. I can envision those other scenarios vividly, yet this is where I go mentally while I’m creating. Under a pine tree in the twilight. A campfire close by to light my journal taking. It’s warm enough to be wearing a tank top and there are no bugs. What does your moment look like? When I write in my journal, my internal cheerleader (and sometimes my internal critic) speaks through my writing. The second person "you", and yes, even sometimes the third person "she" is still just me answering one simple question. . .
"What does your heart most need to hear?" I took an intentional week long sabbatical from creating. The weather was gorgeous and forecasting more snow than we got (happily!), so Rick and I were buzzing around the property prepping for winter. Okay, mostly Rick was! But, here are some of the bigger items I got checked off my list.
Heading back to this painting while the tunes have me feeling like I can conquer another layer or two!
With Every Loaded Brush
That spirited intake of breath with paint brush hovering, the never-knowing if you can. Opening eyes--all three Brush dancing, skipping, twirling the trusting while you are. The step back to ponder with valiant smile and the charming wonder that you did. The sun has burned away the vibrancy of Summer. Several inches of snow have already come and gone.. The leaves were shocked into a bit of an early color show. I've taken in quite a few quiet evenings lately and wanted to share my latest Fall journeys. Views from my porch . . .
From my kitchen . . .As the days wane and evenings get down right brisk, I get very domestic. I tend to do my deep cleaning in the Fall. We are about to shut the door and plastic the windows to keep old man winter at bay. I just feel much more at peace if everything is clean once we hole up. From my heart . . .
To my delightful surprise, I have actually become more productive! I'm using the things I WANT to do to be my reward for doing the things I MUST! Once I have checked off several things of the MUST list, it's like I have cleared enough junk out of the mind that I can sit quietly and create. I call this "Dangling the Carrot".
How do you Dangle the Carrot?I'd love to hear how you get to your creative ventures faster. Comment below and share your shortcut with me. As always, thanks for stopping by and taking the time to read about my little Crafty Mountain existence.
Much love and creativity to you! The power had gone out. The weather was nasty, cold, and rainy. But I thought, "What the heck? I had the kids (Have I really forgotten to share the good news? I am teaching art class once a week at the local one room schoolhouse. Goodness! Even the details add another layer of quaint to my little mountain life!) take part of last week's class to gather what they thought reminded them of Autumn . . . NOW WHAT? . . . Well, I probably should do the same. . . What? It's rainy outside. . . Quit stalling. The power is out; what else are you going to do? Just get out there and try." So, I did! SCORE FOR THE HOME TEAM! Me=1 , Inner Critic=0! Woot!Woot! I must have looked a sight! Mud boots, long underwear, jeans, three top layers, a retro floral scarf, muted orange quilted jacket, my hand-made denim and brown, cross-the-body satchel, . . .No, wait! It gets better . . .my music pumping through bubble gum pink rhinestone ear buds, and a fuzzy, leopardskin, Elmer Fudd hat . . . I am dead serious! . . . My Monet's Water Lily umbrella added a bit of class, but I fear, not nearly enough! :) Didn't care! I've never felt more ME! Shall I recreate this look with a photo to share or are you already on the floor laughing at the picture in your mind? Get back home. Press the weeds, leaves, and flowers in a press (Made by the same guy who was the Best Man in our wedding.) for about a day and a half. I suggest at least a week, but I was pressed for time. No pun intended! :) Check out the wild weedy haul! Lots and lots of layers later, I came up with this to show and try to recreate with the kids over the next two classes. SA - WEET! I am very pleased with the results. All in all, a very fun Fall project! And I happily learned that purple IS a Fall color! In trying to get the kids to tell me, what colors they thought of when they thought of Fall, one student said purple. I quickly dismissed the comment in search of someone to say yellow. After this project, I went back to the kids and wholeheartedly apologized. I think I'm going to learn more from the kids than they do from me! Deeper lesson from this project:
We get so set in our ways and how we see the world around us that we may overlook someone else's truth. Isn't that what art is all about? Pushing the boundaries of our own perceptions. How much purple can you find in your life right now? Writing and Rereading Journal Entries It's two a.m. and I don't feel like working on necklaces at the moment. And with all the beads here right now, there is no way I'm going to switch projects. But I should keep rolling for another 2 hours at least. There have been quite a few nights like this lately. . . hmm. Wonder why?
When all else fails to pique your interest, transcribe those fleeting thoughts and sometimes the stagnant ones too. Write straight from the brain to the page. Don't worry if your verb tenses change or if you start projecting yourself into the second person. Just get it down. I enjoy turning up the tunes and shutting out the rest of the world. Sometimes my fingers never pause, constantly fluttering from one key to the next. Sometimes I read and reread aloud after writing each sentence. . . over-analyzing everything. Other times, I get distracted by the busy hum of life and off I go in a whirlwind of activity. During those moments, days, weeks, I tend to forget the peace that journalling brings. I could equate the pleasure of journalling to taking a hot bubble bath. But come on, how many of us are lucky enough to take hot bubble baths on a daily basis? I have noticed the more frequently I journal, the more creative and industrious I become. Just to dump my cluttered brain out onto the page . . . or in this case, into a blog, helps me find an idea I need to explore further, an old memory of cleaning the chicken coop as a child, a new-to-me painting technique I am yearning to try . . . The list could go on and on. I like to write like no one will ever see it--I may as well blog the same way. I find much joy and freedom in speaking my truth and it will become a reference for me later. When I look back at past journal entries, they have become excellent examples of my convoluted, mishmashed, hodgepodged, non-linear mind. As I reread, I usually skim over most of it, but I can recall the moment of it's writing and the same feeling washes over me once again. I'm a night owl, so my head usually doesn't hit the pillow until 4 or 5 am--around the time I see my Eastern Time Zone friends beginning their day with coffee and Facebook. So I snore (Yes, I admit it!) as the world turns, straight through the sunrise, chirping greeting birds, barking dogs, and sometimes even the brap-brapping of sleds. My morning begins sharply . . . at noon! Within two coffees, I've checked my friends' Facebook statuses, played catch up to several artsy/crafty blogs (These gals have lived the bloggy, artistic life for years now. I'm learning. . .More on this in next post!), and have annoyed my husband several times with my incessant "Oh, that's cute! Look, honey." Time to get out in the fresh air.
So, how do I fill the time between beverages?
Misconceptions I had of what it meant to be an artist.
What do you know? It's 5:05 a.m. Time for bed! Though snow is still flying here in the Rockies, it IS the Vernal Equinox! That means the days are now longer than the nights. My cold is nearly gone. I just couldn't behave, so I relapsed a bit with lingering sniffles. But SO worth it celebrating my 38th B-day from porch to porch and then a St. Patty's Day party at Chico Hot Springs with the girls! A complete dozen of us. Unheard of & EPIC! So now, the hangovers are done and the cold has mostly subsided. The days are getting longer. We gained an hour of daylight. All of these things make me extremely happy and feeling adventuresome in art. So, tonight I grabbed a canvas and explored making a new textured background for who-knows-what! Not sure where this is heading, but I'm liking the process. I really like all the Spring colors. . . maybe a close-up of a Spring flower. Maybe a Daffodil, Crocus, or Snow Drop. I like that idea. What else is waking up this time of year? Bear. . . ooh, maybe? I think I'll tackle the flowers first.
It's been three days since I left my house. I'm on my second box of tissues. My husband has so lovingly taken over the kitchen. My thoughts scatter. I feel like a lead-heavy, floating cloud. My reality is just out of reach. I might as well put the earbuds in. With music lilting, I'm enraptured in this green limbo. I realize my verb tenses don't match; just blame it on the Nyquil. I'm taking advantage of this emerald dreamscape to try to figure out my next precious steps. I've come to realize I'm in the anything-but-gray area between art and craft. I've strung gemstone and glass beads making jewelry. I've manipulated clay into pendants and figurines. I've rearranged words into short stories and poetry. I've stitched fabric into clothing and curtains. I've just begun to splash paint onto canvas. To me, none of these things are too impressive; they just make me smile. And so it seems, these fun little projects make others smile as well. There is where my joy resides. So, I will continue along this artsy-fartsy adventure I've begun. I will keep sharing my craft-filled winters with the summer tourists who wonder, "What do you do all winter?" I will continue taking on commissioned work that makes me think, "Why didn't I think of that I will keep documenting this crazy, artistic path through YouTube time-lapse videos. I will keep blogging out my wild ideas. And hopefully along the way, I will keep sharing my smile with you! In attempting to share my 2nd time-lapse video, some copyright issues came into play. So, I'm in the process of editing the second version . . . with a song picked from the YouTube's list. Plenty to choose from, just searched for "mountain" for 3 min duration and picked one out . . . Shady Mountain River by Pale Hollow. I think the song actually worked out better anyway. There is my silver lining!
Click on the pic below to see the time-lapse of its creation. . . simple & fun. This is where I am (and have been) on my first 16" x 20" painting and it’s almost done. I need to add some fine details in the foreground. I’ve also decided to paint in a hiker on the path too, but I’ve been stuck with the fear of screwing up what I’ve already done. It has been 5 days and I have moved nowhere. I’ve decided to give my fear a soapbox and let it blurt out all it needs to. . . so I can move past it and get back onto the canvas. Let me try to describe how I see my fear. First of all it is very hard to coax my fear out into the light to even get a good look. It likes to hide in the darkest folds of my grey matter. It is rarely seen and is never in focus. The closest thing I can say it embodies is an extremely unkempt, foul odored, greasy, squatty, much much meaner, snarling Cousin It. (From the Munsters, remember?) It moves like an amoeba under my hair follicles and can permeate all that I do. It attacks my cognitive thinking and weakens my muscles so I can easily zone out to the tv and move with sloth-like speed. When I am in the throes of making art, it is like I am inside a centrifuge constantly testing the outer limits of my fledgling abilities. It is a fast and freeing place. Once fear takes hold, the power is cut. I try with all my might to hold on to outer reaches, but the weight of my fear makes me loose my grip and I slowly roll back to my center, that well worn dent on the couch cushion. In essence, my fear freezes me into a place so I can no longer push out the boundaries of my comfort zone. So what is my fear saying and asking right now? Not a damned thing! Just giving it a good, smelly description and how I interact with it has made it settle back down. Time to turn the centrifuge back on. Yippee! I moved from the art journal onto a 16x20 inch canvas. This will be the first time for a daytime scene. Kinda scared, but doing it anyway. The sky is pretty much done & I do like how the clouds turned out. It's paused for the moment because I had no umph after shoveling today. We got at least 10" and I had to keep ahead of the hubby in the skid steer loader, "Skiddy."
Keeping this short and sweet. The bed is calling! Tides come in and go out. Pendulums sway to and fro. The moon waxes and wanes. There is a sacred rhythm, a heartbeat, to everything. Mother Nature’s rhythms can be fun to track, you just have to pay attention. (That’s a big JUST!) Somewhere along the way it becomes a part of your daily life. Ask a fish monger in a coastal town for the time. He’ll know if the tide is in or out, but not that it is exactly 3:49 at the moment. Lately, I have tapped into this natural rhythm by tracking the sun’s arch from my own deck for the last few years. Yesterday the sun spent 10 minutes behind the second knob of Republic-casting it’s last shadow of the season over my deck from 2:12 to 2:22. Today, we were able to bask in the glow of the sun until it went behind the main fin at 2:58. Tomorrow, the sun will last till 3 p.m. How cool that I’m tracking the sun from my exact spot! Most people don’t share my enthusiasm about my tracking the sun. In all actuality, it takes them aback seeing me wild-eyed and babbling about deepening shadows and lengthening days. I must admit it’s not necessarily the watching of the sun’s arch that gets me so stoked. (That’s actually the most quiet, peaceful, still part of my day.) It’s the idea that this ancient solar path is still being witnessed and very unskillfully documented by me. One human, one balcony, one earth, one sun, one solar system, one universe! I feel snail-small and I smile. What from Mother Nature can you observe, track, or witness beginning today? Daily temperatures? How long does a bucket of water take to freeze in the barn? Spring will arrive soon. What dates will you begin to see flowers appear around your exact spot? Which comes first, the daffodil or the tulip? Get connected to something larger than yourself. Get outside and take notice. I am on the cusp of something great, magnificent, and at times a bit overwhelming. I am becoming an artist. I’m finding my voice. I’m writing down my achievements, my flailings, my hopes, and reservations along this wobbly path to help clarify my vision that is just coming into view. I am learning that there is a sacredness in trusting this journey wholly. I am creating as fast as I can. I’m sharing my vulnerabilities in hopes of resonating with others. I am investing in myself. My mind is being expanded. I’m a conduit full of electrical energies that I can tap into. . . My inner critic breaks in, “I am so full of shit. Conduit? Electrical energies? Artist’s Journey? Who says this crap? Am I a hippy now? A gypsy maybe? This journey will be too frightening. Just let myself spiral back down into my comfort zone. That part of me is continually nagging that I do not have my nose to the grindstone, pumping out more of the same stuff I’ve dabbled in for the past 15 years. At least that was my beer money. There is a comfort in the known, the safe. Don’t rock the boat.
The momentum has picked up now that I am on the fringes of whatever I thought possible. My hair whips in the air out here and at times it is hard to catch my breath. From this vantage point, I catch glimpses of the artist I am to become and glimpses of the path I am meant to follow. The path looks more exciting than I am comfortable with, but the artist who is further along seems perfectly content with the frenzy of activity. From where I am now to where she is, I realize it is not a path of comfort and noontime naps. It is a path of opening, exposing, learning, reaching, and ever dancing with my art. If I do not create it, no one else will. It is MINE! My fingers can barely keep up with my thoughts as I type, but I feel I must document this growth, somehow. This bullshit. I am scared I won’t be enough. Who am I to even think I can follow this path? Even my own mother asks, “Do you think people are that interested?” Although it would be fantastic for that extra validation, I have to remind myself that my sharing has nothing to do with others interest or acceptance. It is just me putting it all out there. Do with it what you will. Take what you need from my blogs and I will do the same. I oscillate from moments of scary clarity to blissful visions of my amoeba like shape creeping its way back towards the center of my comfort zone. It would be much easier to stay a blob. But, there is that tug again, pushing myself to create more and to keep sharing this wonderful journey with others. I don’t know if I’m doing it the right way. Hell, I don’t even know if there is a right way to get to this future that I’m envisioning. All I can do is try. I get anxious thinking I don’t have enough courage to complete this quest. All I know is if I really want this, I must fill my days by intentionally living to become that artist I can see just beyond the mist in my mind’s eye. I am on fire. I feel the cosmic current coursing through my fingertips as I type. I am about to burst. I feel so full of hope and wonder. I breath deeply to center myself. Doubt creeps in again. I have no idea what I’m doing. I am just babbling. Who am I? What journey? I am just sitting on my ass at my desk. Tears almost surface, when I think that these voices are right. But, I WANT THIS! Shut up, already. I AM going to do this one clumsy footstep at a time. One more deep breath and the doubt is gone. I can dance with my vision once again. I’m not sure if I’ve written anything that helps clarify my thoughts to others, but this is exactly where I am at in this moment. I am excited and frightened. I am dancing and painting. I keep breathing it all in and exhaling it onto canvas and into clay. I am choosing to share my crazy roller coaster journey of creativity with others. Excuse me if my insanity shows through a bit. Growing up in central, western Ohio (very close to 40*N, 84*W), the horizon line was always far, far away. The only things blocking my view then was a Maple tree, the town's water tower, and a few neighboring houses. I was mostly surrounded by alternating fields of corn and soybeans.
From my perspective now (very close to 45*N, 110*W), the sun travels behind Mount Republic at 1:38 p.m. today. It's not that it gets dark then, that happens shortly after 4 p.m. like everywhere else on the 45*N parallel--halfway between the equator and the North Pole. When you live this close to these majestic mountains, they tend to screw with the line where the earth meets the sky in the most beautiful ways! The mountains act as huge gnomens--you know, the finger on a sun-dial--casting their blue shadows across this place I now call home. I am clumsily dancing with all my new toys and gadgets. The toys being paint brushes, stamps, buttons. . . anything to craft & create with. The new gadgets being high-speed internet, blogging, and taking pictures what seems to be every thirty seconds to freeze my project in case I do something disastrous.
In mid stream of a project, my house is not always a pretty sight. My desk is usually three layers deep and I'm constantly in search for one of my four scissors. "I know there's one here somewhere. I just had it a minute ago." This is usually followed by a few colorful expletives. "Ah, you'll do." And I keep dancing. (Dancing is okay, right? Mom only warned me about running with scissors.) I truly have no clue what I'm doing, but I am allowing myself to play! Playing has actually become the priority over the past two months. With each project, I'm learning so much. A lot of this learning process comes from trial and error or layer after layer. I am also learning to trust myself and this journey I find myself on today. Today, I send my little, crazy thoughts out into the universe. Take what you need from it; leave the rest. And, by all means, go make stuff of your own. I really need a printable permission slip here! Anyway, what matters is I took the leap. As of this moment, I'm blissfully enjoying the free fall in hopes the net will appear. |
AuthorJust me, Cat Porter Archives
March 2016
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