the creative act of noticing

I've spent the last few months moving to a new city and beginning a new job. It has been a bit overwhelming at times. For someone who always manages to carve time into each day for art-making, this has been quite a shift. Yet I value the perspectives this gives me. How can I remain creative in my every day when each work day is (when taking into account my commute), ten hours? I've decided that I will make a creative practice out of simple observation. Sometimes those observations will become integrated into art and sometimes not. Last night it snowed a few inches, covering everything in that clean, white blanket of snow we all love. On my way down to a church service, I noticed that only one person before me had broken trail on the sidewalk. The lone person had walked the four blocks, weaving and the entire length. I naturally added my footsteps to theirs and, in doing so, made the foot path even more of a noticeable weave. After the service, as I clumped up the hill, I noticed that a dozen or more footprints had been added. And each person, to my amazement, reinforced the integrity of the original path, zigzags in tact. I don't know why no one attempted to straighten the path, but I love the fact that no one did. Eventually, with people coming outdoors to shovel their walks, it will inevitably change. But for a few hours, strangers all silently agreed to enjoy the whimsical nature of the original walker. Maybe that's how it sometimes works. Maybe if the first person is bold enough to explore a new and joyful way of walking, others will follow. I did. And apparently, so did a dozen others.

My second act of noticing came in the form of tea-leaves. My friend and I were sharing a cup of tea and, as I like to use loose leaves, when my cup was empty, the leaves had formed themselves into a shape. It seemed to me to be a woman, sitting reading a book. The image stayed with me and a week or so later, I carved a small print of that same image.

one of a kind lapel pins

I've made these pins from vintage lace, vintage buttons, wool felt, raw and hand dyed wools from Ireland, wool tweed jacket scraps, and tidbits pulled from vintage hats and dresses.

moon through the window

The other night I was sitting on the couch, feeling a bit tired and worn, just having put the polishing touches on the day. And when I looked out of my front window, I noticed the moon was shining directly through a glass ornament I had hung from the window over the Christmas holidays. (The truth is, I have a number of places in the house where I've left up the decorations. It's part laziness and partly that I like the way the ornaments look.) These are two pictures I took, ten minutes from each other. These are small blessings; these windows that bring me the moon.

plum jam

I've made plum jam every year for years, from a plum tree in what is now my mother's back yard. Years ago, it was my back yard. We had transplanted a plum tree from the bush and my Italian neighbour grafted the tree with a branch from his own plum tree. This year, we must've had over a hundred dusty-blue plums... or "plooms", as my wonderful now ninety-year-old neighbour pronounces it. Each year, I skin the plums and make the plum jam and though it tastes delicious, it always looks a bit brownish in colour. This year, I did not peel the plums. Instead I simply cut them in half, added a cup of honey and a bit of agar-agar. I brought the mixture to a boil and then poured it into two large jars. The colour is so amazing.... a brilliant, deep purple-red. It's a bit like the colour of red currents. And it also tastes amazing. I love it on toast with a nice nice of swiss cheese on top.

The Blue Room

I painted up this lovely room that faces the east. However, when the room was complete, though the blue is a very peaceful colour, it just seemed too ordinary. This house has layers and layers of wallpaper in every room. In fact, the wallpaper cannot be stripped, because it literally holds the hundred year old walls in place. I found a solution by painting small strips down the walls every few feet, and stenciling it to look a bit like wallpaper. I also carved the stencil so it's an original.

summer puppets and puppet stages

I enjoyed a week of puppet building with a group of children from C D Howe School. As always, the children provide inspiration to us 'big people'.

Honking Geese and Found Objects

Today was a day of random coincidences. Three days ago, at the playreading of "Night Wings", I lost a few of the shadow puppets. My ideas had come from a very old and worn book of children's poetry and I wasn't sure if I could recreate that same old fashioned flavour. Then this morning, as I was cycling through the park on my bike, I came across one of the puppets in the grass! Moments later I ran into Sarah Furlotte, the woman who designed and painted the shadow play stage. How wonderful. As I was about to lock up my bicycle, a large flock- perhaps eighty or ninety geese, flew across the sky, honking as they flew.