Bead Embroidery Makes Me Happy

Getting back to bead embroidery definitely makes me happy, although this piece really isn't about being happy. It's my Bead Journal Project for April, a month that was all about separation and change, about moving, about finding a new way of being, living alone and being single rather than married. Both the beading and the process of changing my life are still on-going. I don't know what the future will bring with either.

I worked on this piece (no name yet) while teaching two different Improvisational Bead Embroidery workshops during the month. As always, I have the students write poems on the second day of class, poems about self based on words and phrases that come to mind while looking at their beadwork. These are the two poem I wrote based on this piece.

#1

I am scattered
I want to be one of the other
words or phrases
such as I am peaceful
or I am purple
or I am flowing
but the truth is
I AM scattered right now
as I cut through
the crumpled remains
of the soft colors
of my marriage dream
I am scattered
as I pack all my things in a box
drained of energy
traffic noise in my head...
oh flower fabric and aqua beads
may you refill my cup of life
               March30, 2013

#2

I am delicate
emotionally delicate I guess
a little unusual for me
my heart is folded
my wedding rings still on my finger
my life flowing along
as if everything was normal
as if everything was the same
I am circled by beads
beautiful, graceful, pretty beads
are supporting a new phase...
like the butterfly
I will take a new form
yet with the same life blood
and the same heart as before
                  April 14, 2013

I'm doing post-card-sized (5 x 7 inches) pieces again this year, like the first two years. This one seems to be going in the direction of being solidly beaded, which takes a lot of time. I don't know if the others will be encrusted or not.

Me and My Stuff - May's BJP

Too many piles? Too much stuff?


Most of us, after we’ve lived in the same place for a number of years, begin to accumulate a few too many things. Right? Do you know what I mean?

• drawers stuffed... full, all of them totally full
  
• closets stuffed full, piles on the floor, shelves stacked to the bottom of the next shelf
• boxes, OMG, the boxes…
• piles of papers around the computer
• piles of papers on the tables
• too many beads to keep track of them all
• take a class, buy all the stuff… yep it’s all still there
• did I mention shoes?
• did I mention clothes that don’t fit any more?
• books? Oh dear, don’t get me started on those!
• attic? Stuff from the old house; lots of stuff… boxes on boxes on boxes… been there, untouched, for 13 years now
• photos
• paint and paintings
• greeting cards
• beadwork, quilts, artsy stuff I’ve made
• artsy stuff others have made
• family treasures passed down from relatives

The quantity of stuff I own began to depress me when my Mom passed away in March. She had so little by then, the best of her best. It took only a few hours to clear out her room and find homes for her few special things.

I started to think, What if….? What would my poor husband do with all my stuff???? I started to wish it would all go away, giving me a clean slate, empty shelves and drawers, like when you got your first apartment. I read an excellent book about hoarding (Stuff, Compulsive Hoarding and the Meaning of Things, by Randy Frost and Gail Steketee), and got more down about it, although I’m not as bad as many the authors described. And for a while I actually went through some things and lightened my load a little.


OK, so what better topic for my May BJP than Me and My Stuff? No problem gathering stuff… little scraps of this and that I’d saved because I might use it someday, things people have given me over the years, like the white, plastic horse from a box of Cracker Jacks. By the way, the pink line of beads is me. You can see, I'm surrounded by my stuff...


As I began stitching, I assumed the stuff would pile on top of more stuff and it would all look jumbled and chaotic, not pretty, not fun and not happy. To my great surprise, it’s just the opposite.


Many times I write poems off my work (a technique I describe in One Bead at a Time, which you can download for free from my website). I write a list of words and phrases that pop into my mind as I look at my beading and workspace. Then I circle the word or phrase that seems the most compelling to me. Next I write: “I am ____________,” filling in the blank with the circled word/phrase. This is the first line of a poem about me. Using as many of the words/phrases as I wish in my poem, I quickly say whatever comes to my mind. It’s a way of letting our visual journaling, our beadwork speak to us about who we are.

This is the poem I wrote about Me and My Stuff

I am parts of old projects
unfinished business
tufts of the past
holding me back somehow.
My work is trying to tell me something.
Unbidden, in its joyful, little-girl colors,
it seems to be a key
to starting something new.
What about the white plastic horse?
What memory am I saving in my stuff?
Lots of stuff, pretty stuff, piles of stuff
laden with memories
I am afraid of forgetting.

Ah-ha! Writing this poem and looking at my piece, gives me a giant ah-ha!!!! The stuff is about fear, fear of forgetting. For me, ALL my stuff is about fear of forgetting! Isn’t that interesting? I love knowing this. Because now I realize it doesn’t work. The memories are either there, or they’re gone, or they’re fading. The stuff may jog my memory for a while, but there are no guarantees.


For example, the woven “flower” in the center of my piece was given to me by somebody, maybe a student, maybe in a class, maybe mailed to me… I don’t recall who or what were the circumstances anymore. I do recall who gave me the horse, but the when and why of it are lost memory.

So why not let go of the stuff, knowing that some memories will remain for a long time, others will fade? It’s life. It’s aging. It’s OK.

Bead Embroidery and Treasure Box!

Do you recognize the scene on the scrimshaw piece above? If you're anywhere near my age (67), you may have read The Owl and the Pussycat as a child. It's a charming poem/story written in 1871 by Edward Lear:

The Owl and the Pussy-cat went to sea
In a beautiful pea green boat,
They took some honey, and plenty of money,
Wrapped up in a five pound note.
The Owl looked up to the stars above,
And sang to a small guitar,
'O lovely Pussy! O Pussy my love,
What a beautiful Pussy you are,
You are,
You are!
What a beautiful Pussy you are!'

Pussy said to the Owl,
'You elegant fowl!
How charmingly sweet you sing!
O let us be married! too long we have tarried:
But what shall we do for a ring?
'They sailed away, for a year and a day,
To the land where the Bong-tree grows
And there in a wood a Piggy-wig stood
With a ring at the end of his nose,
His nose,
His nose,
With a ring at the end of his nose.

'Dear pig, are you willing
to sell for one shilling
Your ring?' Said the Piggy, 'I will.'
So they took it away, and were married next day
By the Turkey who lives on the hill.
They dined on mince, and slices of quince,
Which they ate with a runcible spoon;
And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand,
They danced by the light of the moon,
The moon,
The moon,
They danced by the light of the moon.

I've no memory of how or when I acquired this remarkable scrimshaw charm, but it seemed the perfect talisman to symbolize my marriage to Robert. We met April 11, 1997 at a photography workshop at the Coupeville Arts Center. What started as mutual interests and my appreciation for his wacky sense of humor, quickly developed into romance. By that Christmas, we had decided to make a life together and a few years later we married. In our mid and late 50s, it was the first marriage for both of us!

Although I've made several things for him in our years together, it took me until now to do a serious piece of bead embroidery for him. He loves boxes, tins, containers of any sort. So, one day when I found a small, wooden box in the craft department of JoAnn's Fabrics, I got the idea to create a bead embroidery and mount it on the lid of the box. You can see the work in progress and read about some of the symbolic elements here. Below is how it looks finished. (Click image if you'd like to see it enlarged!)


As the work progressed, I began to think it needed a higher quality box. Plus I wondered about the wisdom of putting the beading on top of the box where it would soon be buried in dust. One day it occurred to me that I could look on Etsy and maybe find a wood-worker who might offer something more suitable.

Voila!!! There are several fabulous wooden box makers selling on Etsy, but the one whose work seemed most right is Maurice Sewelson. You can check his treasure boxes here. This is the one that called my name most loudly. So, I wrote to Maurice to ask if he might be willing to custom-make a box that would have a tray sized to fit my beadwork. He agreed!!!! I sent him a picture of my beading and he sent pictures of wood he thought might look good with it. We chose bloodwood for the exterior and mahogany for the interior. Below is the finished box and a detail pictue of Maurice's beautiful carving and inlay work on the front.



Below are pictures of the box with my bead embroidery in the tray. The tray may be lifted out to reveal the full contents of the box. By the way, I didn't glue my beadwork to the tray... (Is anyone surprised?) I stitched the beading to a piece of black Ultrasuede. Then I used acid-free, double-stick tape around the edges to attach the Ultrasuede to the inside of the tray.



Robert now has a fine treasure box in which to keep some of his family heirlooms (his mother's watch and other items he's saved over the years). He says it's the nicest gift he's ever received!

Bead Journal Project ~ May ~ Open the Door

Ahhh, back to improvisational bead embroidery for me!!!! Here is my finished May BJP page...


Here is the poem I wrote from the piece after it was finished.

Open the Door

I am old and rusty.
Yet still I am a key.
Yet still I hold power
to open the door.

I am old and rusty.
Yet still fierce tiger waits.
Yet still I find courage
to open my heart.

I am old and rusty and empty.
Yet still red blood courses.
Yet still I have strength
to open the door.

I am old and rusty and afraid.
Yet still I want to know.
Yet still the river flows
and tiger takes me there.

Are you wondering about the tiger? It's machine sewn. Fabulous, isn't it?! Karen L. Cohen, BJP participant, gifted it to me after I asked her how she stitched the elephant for her April BJP (here). My old sewing machine doesn't do this type of thing, but apparently one can buy programs for newer machines that create images for you. Here is the program Karen used to stitch both her elephant and my tiger.

Karen offered me a choice of animals and colors. Since Tiger is one of my totem animals, I was immediately drawn to it. Saturated colors were calling me, strong and true... red, yellow, blue! Karen picked the background fabric and determined which of my suggested colors to use for the different parts. I'm so pleased with red as the main color!!! Red, the color of blood and love and energy and protection! Thank you, Karen!

The beading fell together easily on this piece. But the meaning of it wasn't clear until the last 15 minutes of working on it. I seemed to be inside looking at Tiger through a window or a door. I felt a strong urge to get through the door, to open it. At the last minute, I realized I needed a key.

Odd thing... I've been suggesting to several BJPers and to my brother, Thom, (who was just here for a week) that they/he add a key to their work. HA! Duh... It was I who needed a key all along!
Right after finishing this piece, I began my June BJP. Below you can see the fabrics I selected. Do you think maybe this could be the river??? Did Tiger take me to the river? We shall see.

Bead Journal Project ~ April Finished!

April, the month of new beginnings, is my favorite month of the year. More than the new year in January, it offers a place where I can turn around, take baby steps or giant leaps in a new direction, full of elation and hope! Nothing symbolizes this more than the force of a waterfall and the vitality of skunk cabbage, the first blooming plant of spring! So here you have it, my April BJP (click on picture to enlarge and see details)...


And here's the poem I wrote to go with it.

April

A small creek,
dry in summer and fall,
becomes a miracle
of burbling water
tumbling down
over moss-covered rocks
in April,
the month
foretelling birth,
fresh season
of budding vitality.
Here skunk cabbage
hoists its unfolding,
primordial leaves
and gaudy yellow spathes
through chilly,
muddy waters
of a temporary pond
made wide
by the rushing flow
of snow melt
and abundant rain.
Each day
on our daily walk,
we pause here,
grateful to receive
a nurturing breath
of new beginnings.

Solidly beaded (mostly with size 15s) and textural, this piece took quite a few hours. (Please don't ask... I don't keep track.) The proof is that I'm only just starting to work on May, when I should be stitching June's piece. Oh well, it happens and I shall do my best to catch up before the end of June.

You might want to take a look at April's piece in progress and the photo of the actual waterfall and skunk cabbages that inspired it here (starts about a third of the way down).

I don't know that I'll ever work from a photo again. While I like my piece, especially what it represents, I actually prefer the similar-theme April BJP piece done by Lise Pederson (below)...


I love the spontenaity and joy evident in Lise's work, which is not as strong in mine.... It's OK, I learned something doing my April piece from a photo... been there, done that, don't have to do it again!

If you have an interest in reading more about skunk cabbage, I found a wonderful essay (and drawings) about the Eastern Skunk Cabbage here ... it's quite similar to our western variety!

Bead Journal Project ~ March ~ Zero Circle

My piece for March was definitely influenced by an incredible fiber book made by Marty S (who is also a member of the BJP). Her arched pages (see here and here) sang a beautiful song to me... a little like a window, a little like a doorway, a little like a house, the stability and the reaching of the basic triangle shape... You get the idea.

I began by folding the top (dark green) batik fabric in half and cutting out the arch shape. Then I layered it over a lighter fabric and started fingering through my stash in search of whatever wanted to be in the window. Right away, an unglazed, ceramic face said, "Me, me!" There was no hesitation about the other things or the colors of beads. It all fell into place very quickly and effortlessly. Nice when that happens!


While stitching, I didn't really give a lot of thought to what it means, except when I was sewing the beaded bezel for the stone at the top of the face. This stone came from the headwaters of the Ganges River in India. My friend, Liz, did a treck there and brought it back for me. When I hold it in my hands, I have a sense of timelessness, the source of life and spiritual contentment... a warm pulse seems to eminate from it. Had to include it.


Working on this piece was one of the most peaceful and meditative experiences I've ever had stitching beads on fabric. After finishing it, I was trying to think what to name it and turned to some of my poetry books for inspiration. As soon as I read Zero Circle by Rumi (written in the 13th Century; translated by Coleman Barks), I knew the name of my piece is Zero Circle. Here's a few lines from the poem:

Zero Circle by Rumi

Be helpless, dumbfounded,
Unable to say yes or no.
Then a stretcher will come from grace
to gather us up.
...

So let us rather not be sure of anything,
Beside ourselves, and only that, so
Miraculous beings come running to help.
Crazed, lying in a zero circle, mute,
We shall be saying finally,
With tremendous eloquence, Lead us.
When we have totally surrendered to that beauty,
We shall be a mighty kindness.

I think this piece is about me reaching and seeking to surrender and become open to a saving grace. It frightens me a little to write this, to say it publically. Yet, on the other hand, it is my truth at this moment.

* * * *
4 April ~ Update

If you are interested in reading the whole of Rumi's poem, you will find it here. I have it in a wonderful book that was gifted to me several years ago: ten poems to change your life, by Roger Housden.

About the winged rabbit... It was a pin, a gift from a friend a long time ago. But I rarely wear pins and the wings caught on my purse strap so I didn't wear it. One day I put it in with my treasure stash and there it was when I needed it for this piece. It wouldn't have worked to pin it to my piece as it would flop forward and stick up too high. So I clipped the pin part off and sewed it to my piece. Originally it had a purple rhine stone glued to the bunny's belly. Didn't like the purple with my piece, so I easily removed that to expose the top of the rivet which held the whole thing together. Didn't like that either, so I drilled a hole through the rivet top and sewed a flat-bottomed, rose-colored crystal through the rivet.

Bead Journal Project... If At First You Don't Succeed....

What to do with my 12 months - 12 pieces, each 4" x 6" and finished with the picot edge stich all around??? That was the question tormenting me for many months. If I had a dime for every idea that passed through my mind, I'd be a rich woman!

About 3 months ago, at a retreat with some beady friends, I finally decided to make my BJP pieces into soul cards, like tarot cards, with hard backs. I painted papers for the backs, rubber stamped each with the date and name of the piece, covered book board (heavy, dense cardboard) with the papers and glued my beadwork to the boards. Nice... or so I thought. Here are paired-pictures of each month's beading and painted/stamped back. All are click to enlarge.













However... after getting them all finished, and showing them to a few friends, I just didn't feel good about them. Handling them rumpled the picot edges. And, I didn't like stacking them one on top of the other, crushing the textural elements on many of them.

So, in the spirit of "if at first you don't succeed..." I'm on to a new plan and the backs are going bye-bye. You'll see... next post!

Bead embroidery ~ March bead journal project finished

This one was difficult.

I started working on it in March, became cloaked by the darkness of it, and then abandoned it to work on the sweet, gentle new beginnings of April (here). Finally, March called me back... I finished it today.

My initial intent was to make a portrait of my husband. As my beading evolved, it morphed into a look at the part of him that is best described by the title of my piece: His Parents Were Alcoholics.


Today, as I photographed the finished work, a poem began to form in my head. Here it is.

His Parents Were Alcoholics

Always I’m aware of Wall,
built higher during hard times,
separating his dark, prickly fears
and deep, festering wounds
from his lighter, easy-going side.

Holes in Wall,
where pressure builds
and he can’t get them plugged,
let the grace of light in
and the sharp sting of dark out.

Only Beaver, his totem animal,
goes freely back and forth
from one side to the other.
Beaver is keeper of Wall
and fulcrum of delicate balance.

When first I fell in love with him,
a friend said “He’s damaged goods.
Run, run in the opposite direction
and don’t look back.”
She saw the dark.

I see the joyful light
and love every swirl of it.
I see the darkness too
and am trying to understand it,
to caress it tenderly.

He and Beaver are still at work,
mending childhood wounds
inflicted by parents,
altered by alcohol and
oblivious to a boy’s needs.

Robin A.
5-20-08

Bead Embroidery ~ December BJP Finished!

As promised, I'm back again today with another finished Bead Journal Project piece!

December was a challenge for me because I get a little unglued at Christmas time. Thinking about it, the word upside-down comes to mind. I was avoiding working on December's BJP until I read this post by BJP member Acey. It took guts to get by the trepidation of "what people would think" and write about her unpopular attitude toward Christmas. I took courage from her, and decided to attempt to show how it is for me. It's like this...


And here is the poem I wrote while working on it:

I am darkness
looking at Christmas,
pointing dark thoughts
at Christmas,
especially at all the hype,
the production
and the requirements
at this time of year.
I am supposed to be happy,
merry and bright.
But I am not.
I am darkness.

I want to change.
I want to hear
the sweet songs
of Christmas birds.
Where is my big heart
at Christmas?
Follow the birds.
They will help me.

You can see that the tree is surrounded by darkness and is upside-down. Yet, the tree itself (which represents Christmas) is very bright and cheerful. It seems to repel the darkness. I think the many hearts on the tree represent what I'd like the real meaning of Christmas to be. The birds and the golden star must be hope, spirituality and the possibility of change. Notice that the bird songs and star are not confined by the dark beaded edge.

December darkness has been with me for a long time... probably since my 20s. Mom has it too. Hers is Depression Era related. Her mom died when she was 11 during the Depression years. None of her relatives wanted an extra mouth to feed, so she was shifted from family to family, always with resentment toward her. I don't imagine she had much fun at Christmas. Both of us probably suffer from Seasonal Affective Disorder, which doesn't help. Other than Mom's influence on me, SAD and my aversion to marketing hype, I don't really know why I get so down. Maybe the birds, making this journal page and realizing that I really want to change my attitude will help next year. I hope so.

Pam Troug, another BJP Member, also used her December piece to work through some dark thoughts. One fabulous thing about being in the BJP and this blogging community is that we find kindred spirits, whether in the light, the dark or the twilight. I am so grateful for the opportunity to stitch my thoughts and feelings in the company of understanding and supportive souls.

Thank you!

Bob Dylan in my Dream Last Night!

Dream:

I am on the street outside of a cafe, milling around with a group of people who are attending a beading conference. I get tired of waiting, leave the group and enter the cafe, where all the tables are empty.

After taking a seat, I look up and see Bob Dylan entering the cafe. He's young, looking like he does on his Freewheelin' or Blond on Blond album cover. Dual emotional response: 1. Wouldn't it be cool if he sits with me! And, 2. OMG, I wouldn't know what to say to him if he did!

I'm so shy that I put my head down and wait. He comes and sits kitty-corner from me at my table. Slowly I look up at him. Bob Dylan smiles slightly and asks, "What are the important influences in your life?" I freeze with shyness. I don't respond, and the next thing I know I'm back outside with the crowd.

End of that segment of the dream. However, I wake up soon, envisioning Bob and his question. A one-word answer snaps into my mind: teachers! My teachers are the most important influences in my life. All kinds of teachers (not so much the ones from my formal school years)...

Let me name, honor and thank a few of them here:

Andrew Dale ~ My tai chi teacher during the early 1990s, Andy taught me about physical balance and it's correlation to emotional balance. He taught me to walk with my weight back about 1/4th inch (I had been leaning forward slightly). This saved my feet and enabled me to walk normally again!

Shelley Tucker ~ My poetry teacher during the same period as above, Shelly taught me how to by-pass my controlling and frightened brain, and allow words to flow from my heart. I was already doing that with bead embroidery, but this was an entirely new thing to be able to do it with words. I still use her wonderful writing models, and have shared one of the best with you, here. If you want to introduce poetry writing to young children, Shelley's books are super!

Ferne Cook ~ My mother, Ferne, taught me many wonderful life skills, including strong work ethics, ethics in general, how to sew, the value of quality craftsmanship, and good grammar.

Robert Demar ~ My husband, Robert, teaches me significant things nearly every day, including the most valuable lesson of all... that it's only money... you can see my progress with this concept here. He opened the door for my recent insight about respecting my body, by taking my legs (the heavy ones I've always hated) out to dinner one night in appreciation for all they've done for me over the years. He has changed my habit of swearing when thwarted or frustrated, by showing me how it creates a negative aura. There's lots more.

Liz Chenoweth ~ How can I pick just a few things to mention about what I've learned from my best friend for 34 years? Among many other things, from Liz, I've learned that under anger there is fear, that love is all there is, that acknowledging love is hugely important, to give time and money, and to honor commitments.

Mary Oliver ~ Although I've never met her, poet Mary Oliver taught me an extremely important lesson... that I do not have to be perfect. The powerful healing medicine of her poetry is beyond compare. On Monday, Feb. 4th, thanks to a gift from Liz, I get to hear Mary Oliver read her poems, live at Benaroya Hall in Seattle!!!! OMG, I'm so looking forward to it!

Bob Dylan ~ I've listened to Dylan's music since the 1960's. The man can write! And through his songs, he taught me to investigate everything, to look beyond the surface of people, and to care.

Lori Talcott ~ Metalsmith and friend, Lori taught me about how flat is boring, especially with wireworking. I used to make fibula pins with loops and spirals that were flat... pounded metal, but flat. Thanks to Lori, I now use my fingers to curve and shape the loops and poke out the spiral three-dimensionally. There's an example at the top of this post and several below.

OK, these are just a few examples of teachers and their important influences in my life. It's still November, the month of thanksgiving, and so I am giving my huge thanks to these and other teachers.

For the past two weeks, I've been making jewelry like crazy for a Holiday Sale this Friday and Saturday. Yesterday, I took pictures of some of the fibula pins I just made... thought you might like to see some of them...

September Bead Journal Project ~ Gifts of Friendship

click picture to enlarge

I started September's BJP piece while in Minnesota and Wisconsin during September. I was still using (and liking) the same box of beads that I had originally selected for June, then also used for July and August. On the last evening before leaving, I threw in a few odds and ends of special little things.

The three fabrics in the piece are upholstery-weight silks. A friend and former student bought them to make pillows. When I saw her pillows, I must have been drooling at the rich beautiful colors, because (without any prompting) she offered me some of her scraps. WOW! What a lovely base for bead embroidery! I preserved the selvage edges, as you can see. Also I fringed one edge and braided the warp threads.

In Wisconsin, I worked on this piece during my 2-day improvisational bead embroidery workshop. At one point I always have my students write poems following this model:

• Look at your beadwork and around your beading work area.


• Jot down all of the words and/or phrases that come to your mind as you look.


• Circle the word or phrase that seems the most compelling.


• On a new sheet of paper, write this line: "I am _________." Put the word or phrase that you circled in the blank space.


• That is the first line of a poem about you. Use the any or all of the other words/phrases in your poem.

Here is the poem I wrote that day based on September's BJP while it was in progress..

GIFTS

I am surrounded by more gifts
than I knew I had
before this moment –
a silver kitty,
grandpa’s buttons,
fabrics coveted, then given
by students and friends,
fairy ribbon on my name tag,
a sterling blessings medallion,
a book of wisdom,
beautiful beads,
including two green frogs.
My eyes are open
to the delight of these gifts,
the collective enormity of them,
and I am so blessed.
Hearts in all sizes and all textures,
love and friendship,
freely given to me
and woven into my art.
I am humbled and thankful.

From then on, as I worked on this piece I found myself being mindful of what beautiful gifts of friendship and love have come my way through beading. So this piece is a tribute to all of my beady friends and students, wonderful women and a few men with whom I share this passion! All of them have given their friendship, support and understanding to me, and I am greatly blessed by it.