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Hand Forged Vessels
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Tuesday, December 30, 2003 |
It dawned on me that I haven't been getting the bloglet subscription to this journal. So no one else has been getting it either. I went to bloglet.com and believe I fixed it.
So if you're getting this by email now, you've missed a lot of recent posts. You can see them all at http://radio.weblogs.com/0120691/
3:13:34 PM 
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Freewriting today....
What's my most positive vision for 2004?
I'm living my Dream Studio life here and now! Every morning I wake eager to make art. I'm making my bowls full out, with passion and intensity and joy. I'm drawing cartoons like crazy, with zesty ideas, many smiles, and a lot of fun. I'm painting and making collages with great interest and a sense of wonder and delight.
My life is simple and focused on making art. I feel whole and complete. No distractions, rush, or worry.
Everything falls into place around making art. Photography is a pleasure. Computer work is fun. I do only what I want to do with a full heart.
My finances are simple and fine. The Universe provides. All I need is here or on its way to me. I send my art out into the world, and the Universe gives me all I need. I'm happy and rich.
Later comments:
I notice that as I type this, I start to argue with myself a bit. "Don't you know, Cathy, that you're supposed to focus on just one thing? Who do you think you are, to get away with making bowls AND drawing cartoons AND making paintings and collages?
And is it fair for you to not have deadlines, rush, or worries when most other people do have them?
Smile. Well, for daring to do three or four kinds of art - this is my year to become more eccentric. Let's go outside the box. And for fairness - I wish this for everyone - whoosh - no deadlines (unless you like them) or rush (unless you like it) or worry (unless you like that too.) I wish for everyone - your own positive vision and your own ways of being eccentric. It will make a richer world.
3:11:47 PM
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Here's an odd bit of dialogue from the INFJ mailing list at Yahoo:
"What, specifically, is the Nicene Creed?"
Someone answered,
"Oh, for heaven's sake, do you not believe in Google?"
Soon we'll have a Google Creed. "I believe in the power of relevant incoming links...."
9:08:33 AM
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This is really a dream fragment from the night before last. Remembering it still this morning makes it seem significant. In the dream, I realize that I could drink water between meals instead of eating snacks. This seems like a brilliant idea, healthy and satisfying at the same time.
Interpretation: Yesterday I interpreted it literally. "My body is asking for more water and less food." This morning I realize that it could also be metaphoric. In dreams, water is often a symbol for the flow of feelings. So maybe this dream fragment is telling me that I'm snacking to escape my feelings. Why not just feel them?
This isn't a new idea of course. But the dream makes it feel more personal. "Cathy, this is an idea for you personally, and for now." It will be interesting to see what happens if I remember this as I drink a glass of water - imagining that I'm actually drinking feelings.
9:05:29 AM
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Sunday, December 28, 2003 |
Dream: I'm in some kind of class or workshop. We meet outdoors, sitting at long conference tables.
A lot of my energy and thought goes into remembering exactly how that 9 dot exercise goes. I remember the first step of the solution, but not the entire problem. How many straight lines are you supposed to use? How do they go after that first one that goes outside the box?
At some point I think "I don't have to figure this out before I wake up. I have the book, The Art of Possibility, and the solution is in that." (So either I had already wakened in the night, or this was a semi-lucid dream.)
Finally though I do remember how it goes. I work it in my mind, not out on paper.
Interpretation:
Waking and washing my face this morning, the thoughts that came were things like "Why have I been reading all these books for guidance? What makes me think that these authors know more than I do about how to live my life? Why don't I just make my bowls and see what happens?"
Also, I thought "if I knew for sure that I'd succeed at whatever I set out to do, then what would I do now?" This struck me as a good free writing exercise for this morning. Let the pen go and see what it tells me.
It's as if "other people's ideas" can be a kind of 9-dot box for me. Maybe my full aliveness is outside this box. The dream seems to be telling me, too, that knowing the first step out of the box is enough. I keep thinking I have to know it all, have it all planned, have the full solution before I can wake up (and live.) Not so.
It's funny that I'd have this dream the night before celebrating finding and buying the land here - celebrating the power of visualizing. Together, the dream and the anniversary could be telling me to visualize outside the realm of what I now believe is possible. Why not?
10:19:00 AM
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This is another personal holiday for me: the anniversary of our buying this land. On December 28, 1978, it became ours. We were living in the Atlanta area, on almost 2 acres of land, doing our best to do homesteading, "back to the land" things in the suburbs. Actually, we did pretty well with it - two greenhouses, big garden, strawberries lining the driveway, etc.
Here, though, was real woods. Our 22 acres ran from one small stream up a hill and then down to a bigger one. There was a big spring we could use for a water source. The ridge had mountain views in all directions. And the woods felt friendly.
It wasn't the most beautiful forest. Just a few months before, it had been logged. Slash was everywhere. Still, there was something appealing about it. Oddly enough, one of the things I loved about it, and still do, is the smell of it in winter.
We'd been looking for land for several months. Every trip showed us more about what we wanted and didn't want. Finally we wrote out exactly what we wanted and began visualizing. "It's Thanksgiving, 1978, and we've found our land. It's..." and we said exactly what we wanted - south slope, spring, $1,000 or less an acre, etc.
Real estate agents had told us we couldn't find what we wanted for the price we wanted to pay. We ignored them and went on visualizing. Sure enough, we found it before Thanksgiving. Today is the anniversary of the closing.
It's a tribute to the power of visualizing, especially when two or more people do it together. Years later, we had a weekly "energy circle" here with three of us. We'd visualize together, how we wanted the following week to go. This is how I was able to make my first bowls.
If you are frustrated because other people seem to be able to visualize and you have trouble with it, I can recommend some resources. The book I recommended recently, Ingrid Bacci's Effortless Living, has a chapter on it with specific exercises to help. And of course the classic text is Shakti Gawain's book, Creative Visualization.
The links are to www.amazon.com, which seems to have the best prices these days. Also amazon makes it very convenient to buy the books used. I've had good experiences buying used books for very little money there. I have no stock in amazon, nor any affiliate status or any other reason to recommend them except that I usually buy there myself.
Now the question is: what to visualize next? Thinking about how we found the land, it seems completely foolish not to use this power. It's like having millions of dollars and never bothering to use them for anything. Or is it billions?
10:00:46 AM
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Saturday, December 27, 2003 |
My House in Umbria is a British/Italian film starring Maggie Smith. One thing I like about it is that I'm sure it will be memorable. We watched it last night, but this afternoon the characters are still vivid and alive to me. None of them are without flaw, yet all are lovable. I like this very much.
This is a story about guilt and forgiveness. It's also a story about the power of a beautiful place to heal. I can still see the vinyards and flowers of Italy. I can see the patio where they ate under the wisteria. Very apropos for the Christmas season, ithis is also a story about the healing powers of a child. This film is well worth seeing. 3 stars
2:59:40 PM
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Hope you've noticed how beautiful the new Snow Moon has been the past two or three nights. Isn't that Venus close by? When a new moon first reaches that delicate sickle shape, in a clear starlit sky, it's one of the most poignant and beautiful sights I know. This comes about the third day after the official "new moon."
I chose Snow Moon as the moon to follow the Cold Moon. Sometimes we do get snow here in north Georgia this time of year. We stay ready to be iced in without electricity, with a supply of drinking water, paper dishes, propane and kerosene heaters, etc. Every fall we check the Storm list to be sure we're ready.
Several years ago, after icy pine trees fell on power lines all over the area, we decided to have pines cut that could fall on the buildings or vehicles. A logger came in to do it free in exchange for the wood. He made a tremendous mess and damaged some of the hardwood trees.
Now I'd decide differently. I'd leave the pines. Plenty of hardwood trees have fallen before and after we had the pines cut. Our neighbors did the same thing so now we all see more of each other's houses and lights at night. Sound travels more so there's more noise pollution here. And the winter woods look much browner of course, without the beautiful green of the pines. We still have some pine trees, but many fewer than before.
So if we move someday to a new wooded place, I'll know to leave the pines. This is only one of many things I've learned since buying this land. Someday I'll write more about what I'll do differently next time.
12:10:54 PM
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Here's the first batch of sprouts from the new sprouter from Park Seed Company. This is the sprouter I like best, of all that I've tried. It's good to use two or three to keep the sprouts coming along.
 The sprouts on the left are broccoli. I've read in various sources that broccoli sprouts are about the healthiest sprouts you can eat. Of course you need to use untreated seed. I plan to get my next supply from Johnny's so they'll be organic.
The sprouts on the right are my favorite, quick growing lentil sprouts. I let these get two days past their prime because of going away for Christmas. So I'll just clip them into smaller pieces. I like the crunchiness of lentil sprouts. The broccoli are surprisingly pungent, kind of like cress or radish sprouts.
This is part of a renewed interest in processing food more at home instead of buying something quick and expensive. Recently I cleaned out a kitchen cabinet so I can actually reach the blender and crockpot. Now I can cook beans from scratch again, and make humous and other bean spreads.
These activities will get me away from the computer and studio for a bit, cut living expenses, and provide healthier food (without additives.) This isn't a "starving artist" way of life. Rather, it's a rich, healthy, exhilarating "thrifty artist" way of life. It makes me smile - a good sign.
12:01:26 PM
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 Last night I posted five 8x10" paintings on canvas on eBay. The one pictured here is called Healing Heart. These are end of year bargains with bids starting at $18, Buy It Now for $28. There won't be any more paintings till I finish the slides of the new bowls. Then I can get my painting space back.
It's a good thing that I posted these. Already I'd started to forget details about how to post artwork on eBay. Just now I noticed that I'd forgotten to tell eBay the location of the small gallery photos that are supposed to show in the listing. I think I've fixed it, but it will take a while to tell. (Lesson: check listings!)
Here's a link to a page with all five paintings.
10:15:57 AM
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Friday, December 26, 2003 |
On December 9, my granddaughter's Christmas tree caught fire and the house burned. Later I reported that her insurance company would rebuild the house, rent and furnish a place to live meanwhile, and replace the house contents.
Well, the picture doesn't look quite so rosy now. I mention this because there are things you can do now to prevent problems later, if you need to make a claim on your own property insurance. Right now, while dealing with end of year accounts and tax returns, is a good time to do these insurance preparation chores as well.
The rental situation looks fine. The rental house is as nice (from my perspective) as the one that burned. The furniture and appliances are great. So one thing to check is whether or not your fire insurance offers this benefit. (Have I checked my own? Of course not, but soon....)
I mentioned earlier that it's a good idea to inventory and photograph the contents of your house at least once a year. Then put the negatives and prints, or a CD or videotape, in your safety deposit box.
There can be some important gaps in content coverage. My granddaughter's appraiser says that gifts aren't covered. Family members gave the new couple a lot of major furniture and appliances. Now the insurance company says these won't be covered. What does your insurance policy say?
Check to be sure that your policy covers replacement, not just depreciated value. My daughter's policy covers rebuilding, no matter what the cost. My granddaughter's policy covers depreciated value. With building material prices having gone way up recently, this is going to be a big problem.
What kind of proof is required? My granddaughter's insurance appraiser is saying that nothing will be covered if it cost over $40 unless she can provide a receipt. Where were the receipts? In the burned house, of course. So - where are your receipts?
It's a shame to learn these things the hard way. So - I hope that you can get something positive from my family's experiences. And - don't forget those fire extinguishers at every door, and the fire drills. Getting out safely is more important than any of the insurance tips I've just offered.
4:39:14 PM
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Recently in the back of my mind I've been playing with some "what ifs."
What if I went a whole year without reading any books or watching any movies or reading any news?
What if I went a whole year without eating any processed foods?
What if I went a whole year without offering any unsolicited advice or information?
Then of course, there's...
What if I went a whole year without fantasizing about what if....?
3:23:01 PM
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Wednesday, December 24, 2003 |
I'm reading Living on Wilderness Time, by Melissa Walker, for the third time this year. What she means by Wilderness Time is the same thing I mean by "postpatriarchal time." I used to call it "thick time" because it feels rich and thick like dark chocolate, and has the same effect as a "chocolate high." (Yet it's nonfattening.) It's the feeling of having all the time in the world - and at the same time, savoring the present moment. There is no sense of rush.
I used to say that any sense of not having enough time was a sure sign of living in patriarchy. I was right about that. But I stopped telling myself that at some point, and accepted the sense of crowded "thin time" as what I had to experience in order to earn a living.
In thick time, postpatriarchal time, wilderness time - life is a gift, not something to be earned.
9:52:08 AM
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This is really a dream fragment, one that needs little or no interpretation.
Dream: I'm standing in a brightly lit room. It may be a bathroom. I think there's some glitter around, as if it's a glamourous place. I think "What would bring me the most joy to do today?" Then I catch myself starting to argue with myself right away, as if this isn't a valid question for me to ask. I'm amused that I did this, and pleased that I caught it. I decide to go ahead with my question.
Interpretation: I take this at face value. At some deeper level of consciousness, I'm deciding (or have decided) to go for joy. Part of me tries to argue that this is wrong or not good enough, but I decide not to listen to that.
Last night at bedtime I did some journaling in a book I just bought, The Excuse Me, Your Life is Waiting Playbook, by Lynn Grabhorn. I'm not sure yet that I recommend the book, since I've just started it. Last night I wondered if plunging into problems and beliefs was a good idea. It might just get my mind into a negative groove. But it does seem likely that the book stimulated a very positive dream.
I do recommend for sure, another book by Lynn Grabhorn, Excuse Me, Your Life is Waiting. I wrote about it earlier in this journal.
9:03:56 AM
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Tuesday, December 23, 2003 |
We rented this as an Italian film, but the opening credits made it clear that it was a joint venture, Italian and French. Uh-oh. We usually don't like French films. But we kept on watching a while.
The cover description must have said something attractive. And it's nice to see people cruising around on little mopeds or scooters. After a while, though, we began to wish for some kind of plot.
Finally, perhaps twenty minutes into the film, we gave it up. Plotless unpleasantness just doesn't do it for us. I looked on the internet to see if I could find out what it was supposed to be about. Oh. It was about a woman on an impoverished Italian island. Townspeople there think she's mad. Well, that explains why she suddnely started throwing dishes around. Then her family held her down and gave her a shot. That's when we decided to stop.
I noticed at amazon.com that two customer reviews mentioned they liked the film ok except for the ending. So I'm glad we stopped when we did. My recommendation is to skip this film altogether. 1 (at the most) star
8:00:16 PM
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Just want to note that for the first time in many years, I'm not depressed during this holiday period. Nor am I afraid that I'll suddenly get depressed (or, as another way to put it, "do" depression.) The demons of doing have departed. They're the ones that hiss "you failure, you haven't gotten done the things you set as goals."
Maybe they've given up on me!
Ha! Yes, go somewhere else. My quality of life, the state of my being, is more important than what I do or don't do.
9:48:42 AM
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This comedy is really carried along by the attractive charm of the three main actors: Martin Donovan, Mary-Louise Parker, and Rebecca Gayheart. Watching it, I liked the main character, a plumber. As he devised and carried out a scheme to become "visible" to other people - especially to attractive young women - I wanted him to succeed. Then, at some point, his cheating went too far. Sincerity in romance just doesn't make up for an overall lack of integrity.
It's odd that some films can make a violent criminal an attractive character, with whom I enjoy identifying. Other films just don't make this work. The plumber in Pipe Dream isn't a violent criminal, but I still feel a certain distaste for him after watching the film to the end. In Kohlberg's moral development scale, Pipe Dream, like many films about cheating or crime, works at a level 3. (What's good is what's good for the people I care about.) Not good enough.
By the way, I'm not sure I picked out the best link to information on Kohlberg. I studied his theory back in the early '80's. But a google search on "Kohlberg moral development" brings up plenty of sites.
9:27:04 AM
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Monday, December 22, 2003 |
It has always struck me as ironic that in our culture, Winter Solstice comes at a time of holiday rush and stress. Celebrating Winter Solstice is about acknowledging the value of rest, darkness, and quiet. Years ago a friend told me that in Oriental medicine, a period of winter rest is considered essential for healthy bones. If you take this further into metaphor, then the rest of the year's activity won't have a strong structure or framework or support, without this period of rest.
Back in Atlanta, I once taught an evening course at Emory University on human cycles. At the first session, a participant protested. "But I can't have cycles of productivity! My boss won't allow it!"
Ah yes. So the big question is: do I allow it in myself? Or do I push myself to "be at peak" the year 'round?
For a Christmas analogy, consider this. Jesus could have come to earth full grown, like an adult angel. Once we entertain miracles, why draw the line anywhere? So why come as a vulnerable infant?
Could it be that we need a time every year to celebrate "not being able to do much yet?" To celebrate our smallness? Limitations? The awesomeness of the larger Universe, and our tiny part in it?
This is ironic too, since our culture urges us to celebrate our achievements of the year, and to rush into planning those for next year. Perhaps we're even being urged to "not stop now - there are ten more days of the year - ten potential sales days, ten more production days."
Recently I read a quote from Gandhi. "I have so much to do today, I'll need to meditate twice as long." If we have a lot we want to do in the coming year - then this Winter Solstice period is the time for rest and quiet. Strength builds inside us, invisible in the dark.
9:07:54 AM
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Sunday, December 21, 2003 |
You know how you wake suddenly in the night when a nightmare just gets too awful? This happened to me last night, but instead of being terrible it was just funny. What jolted me awake? The last scene in the dream was of a web page. Apparently I'd been watching a computer screen in the dream. (Not surprising.) Suddenly the web page appeared onscreen. It had lines of text centered on the page, in italic - hard to read. The pastel background had a fancy pattern. Even harder to read!
Apparently the sight of this poorly designed web page was so terrible that it jolted me awake! What a nightmare. Bad web pages....they'll really get you.
9:19:06 PM
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Today's another personal holiday for me - the anniversary of the Medicine Wheel here on our land, first made on December 21, 1990.
A dowser had told us that the spot on the ridge where I'd been having my campfires was a power point. She said it was a water dome where several streams of water came together under the surface. Certainly this had been a place of transformation for me. And the idea for my second openwork iron bowl came "from the fire" one night as I sat watching the flames.
I'd always felt this was a power point, but hadn't protected it in any way. Visitors sometimes parked their cars there. No one but me (and the dowser) seemed to feel it as a special place.
In 1990 I felt this keenly. I'd just been to a conference in Atlanta called "The Sacred Image." This was the first time I'd heard the word "postpatriarchy" spoken aloud. I bought LaChapelle's book there at the Charis Books & More display. During the conference, I began to grieve for the way I'd allowed my own most sacred spot to be treated.
That led to the creation of the Medicine Wheel there. It's a simple circle of stones, perhaps fifteen feet across, with the four directions marked with cairns. The fire ring is still in the center.
In 1992, I offered a series of women's circles at the equinoxes, solstices, and pagan holidays between. The Medicine Wheel was full. Energy was high indeed.
After that, I focused my energy on my bowlmaking. But I held my own private ceremonies at the new moon, waxing moon, and full moons. I'd call in the energies of the four directions. I'd make my prayers for my life and work. Perhaps most important, I'd sit silently by the fire with my Bouvier companion dog, Colette.
As each iron bowl was completed, I took it to the Medicine Wheel for a private ceremony. I'd hold the bowl at each of the four directions in turn, beginning in the East. I'd pledge to release all hold on the bowl, to release it to its place in the wider world. And I'd ask for its name. By the time I'd completed the circle this way, I'd have either confirmed the name I'd given it, or received a new one. And I was ready to send it out into the world.
Without the Medicine Wheel, could I have sustained my work as a bowlmaker? No, I don't think so. I'm grateful for this sacred place. The trees surrounding it, the stars above, the earth below, give me what I can't describe in words. What I can't write - I can make into bowls.
There's an old saying. "Without festival, the arts have no meaning." The Medicine Wheel has been my place of ceremony. The Medicine Wheel offers festival.
6:05:56 PM
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Saturday, December 20, 2003 |
This film, The Photographer, is well worth seeing, especially if you're interested in a creative life. At the beginning, our hero the photographer has had an amazing rise to stardom in the New York art world. Then - he can't seem to shoot anything but junk. The rest of the film is about - well, about what happens then.
I won't spoil it for you by telling what happens then. Even if I did, words couldn't possibly do what the film does. The photography in the film is superb throughout.
The only reason I'm giving it 3 stars instead of 4, is that there were times when a scene became a little tedious. My partner didn't like the second half as much as the first. And there's a slightly supernatural air to the film that some will like better than I did. Still - I recommend it highly. It's different, and about as far from "junk food" film as one can get, while still being entertaining.
9:37:24 PM
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In last night's dream, I'm living in the enclosed front porch of a house belonging to a man and his son. Maybe there's a wife there too but if so, she doesn't appear. I like the sunlight in this little room, but I feel cramped. Also, I have no privacy because everyone coming in and out of the house passes through my room.
I decide to ask for the spare bedroom in the back of the house, even though it's darker with one small window. But even as I ask, I realize that it's reserved for the man's son. So I start to wonder about moving to my own place. A place of my own looks very appealing.
Interpretation:
Yesterday I was doubting my impulse to reread feminist classics and explore a postpatriarchal way of living. "I've done all that, it's all in the past. Why bother? I've moved on."
But the dream seems to tell me I haven't moved on to my own place - just to an uneasy perch on the edge of a patriarchal way of living. The man in the dream is someone I think of as a nice man - helpful, generous, kind - and at the same time, condescending toward all women. He's the Good Man.
Now I realize why I had such a conflict headache Thursday. The little girl in me still holds onto her dream of Good Daddy - the great Protector and Provider. Yet I don't really want men to be bound by this traditional role. Can I release them from it in my own heartfelt wish? Forgive my father for his lacks in this? (He wasn't perfect, surprise surprise.)
Poet Muriel Rukeyser wrote these famous lines: "What would happen in one woman told the truth about her life? The world would split open." Maybe the world would split open, too, if one man told the truth about his life. Maybe the world would split open if women released men from the Good Daddy dream - the Cinderella dream - saying "no need to protect me, provide for me. Not to worry. Go for your full aliveness as I do and as do the children."
Isn't this part of trusting the Universe? Not to depend on any one person for support, but rather, to be open to any way at all that the Universe sends love and support? This kind of trust enables us to open like a flower in full bloom. An inner sun shines on us.
I remember how a sudden full knowing came upon me, back in 1983, that all the love I'd ever wanted had always been there for me - and always would be. I just hadn't been open to it, hadn't felt it, because I concentrated on wanting it from certain people and not others, and in certain ways and not others. Daddy was one of those certain people, and certain ways of protection and providing were locked in my mind.
We didn't have a washer and dryer back then. I was driving to the laundromat ten miles away. It's always struck me as cosmic humor that this life changing experience happened to me while doing such a prosaic chore. Maybe washing clothes is a metaphor like everything else in life.
Back to my little room at the front of a man and boy's house. Yes, it's time to move. Time to think for myself again. And time to release all men from my little girl dream of Good Daddy. Goodbye, Good Daddy.
9:55:09 AM
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Friday, December 19, 2003 |
Recently I ordered a fruit and vegetable juicer from amazon.com. It's the Braun MP80, highly recommended in the amazon customer reviews. I had read about it at an oddball health site by Dr. Mercola.
Today I tried the juicer for the second time, making myself a glass of vegetable-apple juice for lunch. I added the pulp to my lentil soup. Wow, does it have thickening power! I can see that it would be possible to make some dynamite thick vegetable pasta sauces based on the juicer pulp. The pulp would make good spreads too. Oh, and the juice does taste fine.
The first time I tried the juicer, I ate the pulp raw after I drank the juice. This tasted fine too. I guess you get more enzymes eating the pulp raw.
This is a new direction for me. I've gone through many "health nut phases" but never into juicing. It's fun to surprise myself.
1:45:48 PM
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A friend and subscriber here sent me a copy of the free zen journal. Perhaps she was responding to my recent attention to becoming effortless. Here's a quote from the December zen journal:
"There is no place for overexertion of effort in Buddhism...."
When I went to the website, I saw that one can also subscribe to a daily zen saying. Although I'm not a zen buddhist, I did subscribe. A daily zen saying might taste very good for breakfast.
9:18:36 AM
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Thursday, December 18, 2003 |
Long ago I added to my list of Unifying Principles this one:
"Don't indulge in compulsive feminine virtues."
By "compulsive feminine virtues" I meant, of course, things like "being nurturing," "listening well," "cleaning up other people's messes," "encouraging others," etc. Nowadays the examples might read like a list of characteristics of the classic enabler, the compulsive helper and codependent. It's the compulsiveness, especially for women, that makes these virtues self destructive.
Today I realized that there must be equivalent "compulsive masculine virtues." These are things that a male is socialized to do, not only to feel virtuous, but to feel like a real man. Perhaps they include "protecting others," "supporting one's family at the level to which they aspire," and other virtues that I can hardly imagine.
Of course I'm not saying that any of the masculine and feminine virtues aren't good things. The problem lies in the fact that they can interfere with being true to oneself - to the Deep Self. They become compulsive masks that begin as protection and then eat away at the flesh of the wearer. (Now there's a plot for a horror story.)
Here's one of my best loved quotations, this one from John Middleton Murray, translated into womanloving language:
"For the good woman to realize
that it is better to be whole
than to be good
is to enter on a strait and narrow path
compared to which
her previous rectitude was
flowery license."
3:49:16 PM
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Dream: Someone has driven through my studio.
I go in my blacksmithing studio. I'm shocked to see tire tracks right through it! They go through to the back door and then stop, as if someone expected to be able to drive right through the whole building.
I'm horrified. I feel so invaded. I must have left the front doors open, and someone drove right in.
I go out the back door to see where they might have been trying to go. (I may be skipping a part where a couple, or maybe even three people, want to see my studio and I show them, apologizing for the tire tracks.)
I go out the back door. Sure enough, right behind the studio to the east, is some kind of active business - an auto repair place, maybe. I go around my studio to find someone there. I want to ask them if they know who drove through my studio.
Their building is a metal building with an open front. It's sopping wet - deep puddles on the floor, rain streaming in through too many leaks to count. I'm amazed at how awful it is. I remember that a neighbor put this building up - what a bad job. My roof
is metal but it's much better than this.
Interpretation:
When I wrote that I found a business to the east of my studio, what popped to mind is "east is the direction of ideas, of thought." The dream tells me that my "east" has been taken up with some man's business, and that's why my studio, my artwork, has been invaded. In other words, I've been entertaining patriarchal ideas. It's true, I haven't guarded against this or evaluated ideas this way for years. So I've probably "learned" all kinds of patriarchal ideas. This includes the things I "must do" and how I must do them, to make art and to earn a living as an artist.
What popped next to mind was Alice Walker's "In Search of Our Mother's Gardens" and how it put the ground under my feet back in 1983. My impulse is to go straight to the library and find that book! I'll do that next.
What about the rain streaming into the empty building behind me? "Patriarchal ideas don't hold water?" Flooded with emotion? In the dream I feel some pity for the owner of this building because it's useless. Perhaps the dream is telling me not to worry about tossing out patriarchal ideas, since they're useless anyway.
(Note: The dream isn't suggesting anything bad about men, or that I reject men - it's the patriarchal ideas. Patriarchy is a system based on "power over" - certainly in a completely different direction from the kind of effortless living I want. Women usually entertain and live by patriarchal ideas as much as men.)
9:58:49 AM
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Tuesday, December 16, 2003 |
Right now I have more time than money, so I spent a few hours last week gathering the best thrift shop clothes for the three greatgrandchildren who lost all theirs in the house fire. We have two really grand thrift shops here, both run by a church-sponsored organization called Sharing & Caring. Twenty years ago I helped to get it started. Now in my granddaughter's special time of need, how I appreciate it. I found just about all the clothes all three children need - really pretty and clean and nearly new. Took some boxes of clothes down Friday, then sent the last box UPS yesterday. It felt good to do something to help.
It was fun finding the nicest clothes for them in the right sizes. And when I drove down, I got to see my new greatgranddaughter, less than a week old. In my unbiased opinion, she's pretty.
Her two big brothers are a lot of fun too, at ages 1 1/2 and 2 1/2. Think about these ages. Golly. Can you imagine having three kids that close together? And then, a few days after having the last baby, losing everything in a fire?
It's hard to find words to express my admiration for my granddaughter. "She's a real trooper" just isn't enough. She takes on one challenge after another and just keeps going.
Some things have turned out well. The insurance company will pay for a rental house for six months while the house is being rebuilt. Insurance will even cover rented furnishings "down to the last fork." The house contents seem to be well covered, so eventually things that can be replaced, will be.
I know that every day she must remember things that can't ever be replaced. That's painful. But they've found a house to rent, not far from her mom's house. Life is going on. It will take a long time to recover from this, but they'll do it. "Grit." OK, that's a word that helps describe my granddaughter. She's got grit.
9:33:52 PM
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Well, I'm pulling your leg here about enough snow in Georgia. But there's plenty online. DiscoverCard sent me a fun holiday card. Yes, you can build a snowman! There's plenty of snow for everyone, and you can build as many variations as you like.
9:13:51 PM
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This is a waking thought that came several days ago. "Turn around and face your life." I find that this thought crosses my mind several times a day. It's like hearing a kind whisper in my ear, trying to help.
I wonder what it means. "Turn around and face your life." I imagine walking along my usual paths. I stop - turn - look back. Then what?
I guess there's only one way to find out.
10:20:16 AM
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Thursday, December 11, 2003 |
Two days ago, my granddaughter's house caught fire. Thanks to the Christmas tree, the ceiling was on fire in seconds. The fire roared through the ceiling and roof to every room. Everyone was saved, including the newborn baby. But the house and its contents are gone.
It's a shock. It's like the 9/11 attack. Suddenly, something you expect to be there, to have, is gone. Everything is fragile, including life itself - when you remember that the toddler was right there in the living room when it caught fire. The adults and children had a hard time getting out of the house.
Shocked and confused and just wanting to tell someone, I told about this to my artist community at Wet Canvas. There's a forum there called the Cafe Guerbois, where any topic is welcome, including personal joys and woes. It helped to have responses there.
Some of the advice was very helpful. One person reminded me to just be available to my granddaughter, her partner, and their children. Another reminded me to let them talk and talk and talk about it. I knew that was important after a traumatic event but had forgotten it. Someone else reminded me that I needed to talk and talk and talk about it too.
Someone else who'd lost everything in a flood ten years ago, said it hurts when people keep saying "but isn't it a blessing that everyone is alive." If you've lost all your books, photos, furniture, and all the other things you own, it's a big loss. She said it feels like a death. I guess it is indeed a death - of a home. She said that of course the person losing the house is aware that it's a blessing that everyone survived. That's taken for granted. To tell them that can feel as if you're saying "so stop complaining about losing your things."
This was very helpful to me. I was shocked and confused. Other people reached out to help me cope with this. I really treasure this Wet Canvas community. If you're an artist, I urge you to take a look. There are forums on many different topic areas. It's a very supportive, encouraging place.
By the way, check your house and workplace. Is there a good sized fire extinguisher by every door? Are they are fully charged? Does everyone know how to use them? Have you had a fire drill recently? Have you inventoried the contents and made sure your insurance covers full replacement? Photographed the contents and put the photos in a different location? Winter in the northern hemisphere is the big time for fires.
9:00:02 AM
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Tuesday, December 09, 2003 |
Usually I pay special attention to an idea that comes to me when I first wake up. It's usually right on target. It's as useful as a good dream interpretation, and often simple and clear.
Today I woke with the idea that the Splenda in the sugar free ice cream I've been eating most evenings, is contributing to my "hearburn" or "gallstones" symptoms. I did a quick check on the internet which confirmed that indeed it can cause the symptoms I've had - chest pains that radiate through to the upper back.
Is there any idea that can't be confirmed online? That's a separate question. So I'm really going with my waking thought.
Why not stay away from all additives and processed foods? Why not, indeed? I even ordered a juicer. Wonders never cease.
12:37:29 PM
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Today starts another personal holiday. December 9-10-11 are the days I celebrate the anniversary of buying my first anvil and forge. This was back in 1979, so it's been 24 years. Nothing can be more exciting than having one's own workshop, no matter how bare and primitive.
Mine was a 12x12 foot open pole shed, with a metal roof and sides that came half way up on three sides, front open completely. It was dirt floored, of course. Before setting the posts, I'd dug and leveled and smoothed the dirt.
I built a workbench along the back side, stored iron along one other wall, and had my anvil and forge along the third wall. We lived in south DeKalb County at the time, on about an acre of land. My forge was in the back yard, a few feet from the house, with a nice view of our woods. It's great to be standing by a hot fire, looking into cool green woods.
Two women friends had helped me build the shed. Where to find a good anvil and forge that I could afford? I found them in that one three-day weekend, from Friday to Sunday, through ads in the Georgia Farmer's Market Bulletin. This is a weekly newspaper sent free to anyone in the state who requests it. Blacksmithing equipment is often listed under "Misc. Supplies." I looked at several anvils, then picked the best. The going rate then was $1 a pound, so I paid $150. The portable forge and hand cranked blower cost another $150. I had a bench vise from Sears, along with a cross peen hammer also from Sears, so I was all set.
I still have the hammer and vise, but the anvil and forge were sold long ago. When I had my current studio built twenty years ago, I bought a new Pendinghaus anvil and a better used forge with an electric blower, along with a great post vise and cone mandrel. Still - I have good memories of that first anvil and forge and workshop. It was a big step for me to equip a space for new work I only dreamed of doing.
Can I do that again? If I did, it would be to build a glass studio - for fusing and slumping glass to incorporate into my iron and mixed media bowls. I came close back about three years ago, but backed off.
Maybe remembering my courage back then, buying my first anvil and forge, will help me build a glass studio. I have all the equipment I need - just lack the building. What happened to that brash thirty-five-year-old Cathy? Did she get wisely cautious? Or foolishly scared?
Let's assume she got foolishly scared, and make a glass studio.
9:52:38 AM
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Monday, December 08, 2003 |
No more French movies! For us, that is. I was skeptical when I picked out this film to rent, because we usually don't like French movies. But the plot sounded so different from the others....
We did finish watching it. But the ending was baffling. What happened? Why? What's the point? When I have no idea what happened toward the end of a movie, I tend to give it just 1 star. Maybe 0 stars would be more appropriate.
If you sense a certain hostility here - it's frustrating to get absorbed in a movie, care about the characters and story, and then get get dumped out of the story because things happen that seem totally weird and baffling. It feels like having a nice ride with people you like, then finding yourself thrown out of the car. You sit by the side of the road, watching the dust in the car's wake, wondering what happened.
Need I say - I don't recommend this movie at all.
9:33:02 PM
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Sunday, December 07, 2003 |
This Chinese film (with English subtitles) is about a boy and his father, both from the countryside. The boy has played the violin from an early age, winning local competitions easily. His father decides to take him to Beijing to study and make a great career. The story is about their relationship, their relationships with a young woman, the father's sacrifices and ambitions, and most of all, about the relationship between music and love.
It's this theme - the relationship between music and love - that especially attracts me to the film. It's a beautiful film, with vivid, unforgettable characters. And the music soars! I'm sure I'll want to see this many times again. Recommended most highly - 4 stars.
8:16:26 PM
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A kind and concerned reader made a thoughtful comment on the post I made on Giving Up. I had wondered after I posted that message, if I should have clarified that the "overwhelming project" I was giving up was a computer database project for a client, not an art project. (Although giving up an overwhelming art project would also be OK.) Anyway, I don't associate giving up effortful living, with giving up making art. The reverse is true. Effortless art is very appealing!
Friends have often told me I seem to fear things being too easy. In that case, do they mean anything? They don't count towards earning a place in life if they're "too easy." What I'm giving up, I hope, is the effort to earn a place in life. Why not accept life as a gift?
This is not the first time I've said that I intend to accept life as a gift. I've said that, then slipped back into trying hard to earn it. So we'll see what happens here. If I find myself trying hard to accept life as a gift, that's just another way to manipulate myself.
Art that comes from effortful living, from self manipulation or an attempt to manipulate others, lacks something that I believe is essential. There's an energy, a spiritual force, that's missing. So "effortless art" can be much more meaningful - to me at least.
11:00:06 AM
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Last night I dreamed I was in some kind of art group that evolved into a workshop or course. The teacher was a big bear of a man, enigmatic and demanding. At one point we were running through the dark. I was running after him because I wanted to learn more. He told me to be careful not to stir up any powerful institution - instead to stir up the less powerful. I thought of situtations I'd observed, and past mistakes of my own, that seemed to prove his point. Later, our final "paper" in the workshop was to tell "how to act" in words or images.
Commentary: Waking, it seemed to me that this applies to parts of myself. Some parts of myself are "powerful institutions" while others are less powerful. The dream suggests that I place my attention on the parts of myself that are less powerful - and "stir them up." So my first task is to ask myself: what parts of me are least powerful?
Hmm. "The meek shall inherit the earth." Maybe that makes sense after all.
9:28:30 AM
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This is one of the dreams that gave me the message to "give up" and live effortlessly.
In the dream, I'm walking in a vast park, very green and shady, but dimly lit. I seem to be clearing a path as I go. I finally recognize that I'm approaching a crossroads, or rather, a dead end that meets a crossroads, forming a T. The road that crosses the path I'm on, seems to go toward a brightly lit town to the right, and off into more woods on the left. Towards the left, it's very muddy, with soft ruts up to two feet deep. There's even a pool across the road. I decide to turn back and retrace my steps.
As I turn to walk back, a figure comes over the horizon, running. Another follows. I watch with some curiosity as they approach me. As the two runners get very near, the one in front turns and stabs the one following him, with a knife. I stand shocked. The second man falls to the ground, apparently dead. The man who stabbed him looks over at me. I see that he's thinking he'll have to kill me too, because I witnessed this. I start to run but he stabs me right in the middle of my chest. Somehow I manage to stab him back. Apparently I kill him.
I rush over toward the town lights. Magically, I find myself by a phone. Someone is already calling for help, but keeps getting off onto other topics. I keep asking "I need help, I've been stabbed!" Finally I realize that I'm going to be all right. If I'd been stabbed to death I'd be dead by now. I relax and decide I'm OK.
Commentary:
The stabbing in my chest, I associate with the tightness in my chest that I've experienced in past weeks off an on - plus the "stabbing pain" that I've sometimes had in the center or right side of my chest. So this dream catches my attention right away. Is it explaining why I've been having this pain?
The first runner seems to be stabbing the second runner in order to keep first place, to win the race. Aha. I've been feeling that I'm running a race. I've often complained of this feeling. I'm in a race to earn money fast enough to pay bills, pay my expenses. I'm in a race to take "first place" slides fast enough to enter my new bowls in an exhibit. Etc. I've been running some kind of race all my life, from the elementary school races to earn straight A grades, to graduate school, on and on.
So right away, on waking, it seems clear that it's the racing, the firstborn's obsession with being first, being best, that it causing the stabbing pains. I could witness this - become conscious of it - and give it up and be OK. My Dream Producer seems to be suggesting this.
Now that I'm writing the dream again, I notice the crossroads more. The pool and mud to the left suggests going deeper into feelings. The brightly lit town (a convenience store maybe?) suggests what? Help from other people? In the dream I get the illusion that someone is helping, but they don't really pay any attention to me. Instead, I realize that I'm OK without the help. I'll think some more about this.
9:09:10 AM
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Saturday, December 06, 2003 |
Various messages have come in recently, leading me to consider what it might mean to "give up" and "stop trying." By "messages coming in" I mean physical sensations, thoughts, events, dreams. A theme has developed: gving up.
I've felt a tightness in my chest sometimes, with occasional bouts of awful pain from chest to back - heartburn maybe, but intense waves for up to an hour at a time. Once I thought "maybe it's lung cancer" and was startled at the next thought: "What a relief. I could give up." This seemed like a clue to follow up.
And I've been thinking a lot about my mother-in-law, technically ex-mother-in-law but still very much Mom to me. She's my last parent still alive. But she's fading fast. All the years I've known her, she was so careful about diet and exercise, did everything right. Yet now she has Alzeimer's and recently had a stroke. How far did "trying hard" and "doing everything right? get her? It's been painful to think about her current situation and state of being. I find it difficult not to judge it as awful, terrible in fact, unjust, bad - yes, just bad bad bad.
At any rate, thinking about this has also made me question "trying hard." Maybe "giving up" would be a good idea? Whatever that might mean?
So recently I did a Google search on the word "effortless." It turned up an interesting array of choices. There's a lot of interest in a $500 "Chi Machine" for "effortless exercise." I admit that if it cost a little less, I'd probably try it.
Even better, though, were reviews of a book called Effortless Living, by Ingrid Bacci. This was exactly what I was looking for. It's about the art of effortlessness. The author talks about the addiction to effortful living. She talks about ways in which our society pressures us to live this way. Most important, she describes how to learn to live effortlessly. I find her words compelling, and the suggested practices things I can do. Just reading her book makes me feel better.
This Effortless Living is what I meant years ago when I thought about "living in a postpatriarchal world." There's no gesture of control. There's no attempt to manipulate or "manage" self or others. Ah...it's a world of deep breaths, appreciation, and feeling.
So yes, it's time to give up. I'm giving up a project that was overwhelming me, wearing me down. I'm giving up fears about income or the lack of it. More than anything, though, I'm giving up trying, trying, trying and doing, doing, doing.
I'm being. That's enough. That's everything.
10:03:14 PM
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Today my first greatgranddaughter was born - to my daughter's daughter. Can't explain exactly why this is exciting, but it is. I guess there's something about a long line of women. I remember the pleasure of having my mother visit, when this same granddaughter was about four years old. There we were, my mother, myself, my daughter, my granddaughter - four generations of women together.
My mother died in 1987, but my daughter's other grandmother is still alive, so we have five generations alive right now. In fact, the new baby is named after her greatgreatgrandmother. So that adds special meaning too.
All that said - I'm sure I'll be just as excited when either of my younger two granddaughters eventually has a baby. New babies are exciting, period. And then there's the delight of rejoicing in the new baby without being the one to get up in the middle of the night for the next few months....
9:42:41 PM
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Thursday, December 04, 2003 |
The most appealing features of this slide projector are that it runs cooler than the Kodak projectors I've used, and that it has an 8" square viewing screen nicely placed. Also, the method for viewing one slide at a time is extremely convenient. This means that for reviewing or showing slides in a small space, without a screen, it should be perfect.
Before ordering this projector, I checked for reviews online. I found a few satisfied users, but quite a few negative reviews. Still, the features were so appealing that I ordered it anyway.
When I set it up, I was a little startled by how much dust flew. Apparently slide projector fans just attract whatever dust is within the nearest mile. Perhaps that's a slight exaggeration?
Also, the 8" screen had a mark somehow molded into it that showed on every slide. Worse, it seemed impossible to align the mirror with the 8" screen so that the projected image was squared up with the screen. I worked at it quite a bit and could get it better, but never really square. This is one of the problems often mentioned online.
I was still in the game, though. Reviewing the slides on the 8" screen still allowed me to see the slide in a very comfortable way. The dust didn't seem to matter. The autofocus kept slipping in an annoying way, but it was convenient to keep one hand on the focus knob so I could keep bringing it back into focus.
It was only after I compared the Braun Novamat to an inexpensive Kodak Carousel 4200 that I borrowed from the library, that I decided to return the Braun. The Kodak kept slides in focus, while the Braun focus kept slipping. I could tell much better with the Kodak, which slides were sharp and which were soft. And I could tell better about exposures, too. Slides that looked fine on the Braun 8" screen looked too dark on the Kodak. Since I'm making my slides primarily to send to galleries and art juries, I need slides that will look wonderful when projected with a Kodak.
It's possible that a Braun Novamat manual focus projector would be better, since it would probably eliminate the problem of the focus continually slipping. Maybe I happened to get a poor quality Braun Novamat, and most are fine. But I think my chances are better with a manual focus Kodak like the one I borrowed from the library.
B&H Photo was great about giving me an RMA number. This is the first item I've returned to them, so I didn't know if they'd try to argue with me about it. The man who answered the phone was very gracious about it. I'll certainly order from them again.
9:38:14 AM
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