IMPERFECT Lady

Expectations of the Artist.

When I arrived at my latest Quilt Meeting, I brought my most recent work of art and across the table from where I was sitting, on a shelf, was my book.  (We meet in the Library in town.)

Looking at my earliest Ladies compared to my last, there is a striking difference; a body has emerged.

I love my first ladies, even if they were mostly clothes.

The discussion was interesting, when a women spoke of a theater production she had attended, of a war.  On stage there was one side of actual people and the other side was just clothing.  The clothing was empty and when struck by the real people would sway, move and become animated.

This brought the discussion to how much more we expect when there is more form, if you will, to art.

When I was creating with ribbon and yarn for arms and legs, I was much freer and a lot less critical.

I didn't expect much from the yarn.  And, in the beginning, I actually let the yarn flow as it would, when I laid it down.  I wasn't even trying to mimic the actual effect of a leg.

And, the viewer filled in what was missing.  

We were co-creators.

 

Now, when I have a full body, I am expecting much more real looking ladies.

The first ladies were whimsical, and could be art without reality.

As my lady started to become more active or have more adventures, I began to add more and more to her form, besides the clothing.

 

And, I also believed or made a rule up, that my ladies had to keep going in one direction - fuller.

More real.

More life like.

And, I have enjoyed having faceless ladies and even felt a slight panic, once I made a neck, that soon, I would have to try and make faces.

I didn't feel like I had the option of going back to the yarn arms, it felt like I was cheating somehow, or backsliding.

I am pretty sure art has no rules.

I am eager to now play with my ladies and let them be.  

Somedays, it does feel too heavy to create lifelike features; it is so much easier to be whimsical and free spirited!

I think the rules of life were getting in front of my Art.

Making me believe that there are certain criteria the longer I am an artist.

Instead, I forgot to remember, that as the artist, I have the license to free expression.

The spirit of my lady is to be empowered, free and full of free expression and now so too will my art be.

I feel like a narrow passage has now been open to flow going in all directions.

 

Free will in my art will be a game changer.  

I am no longer bound by made up rules that my mind thought of.

My art is now freer from my mind.

 I must remember to question my mind, always.

Especially in Art.

Art - "the expression or application of human creative skill and imagination, typically in a visual form."

My Lady, is the expression of empowerment, self-expression, free, joy, adventure, a life evolving and I now have access to all her many facets!  

Moksha - Being released from the  cycle of rebirth!

Art moves as it wants - without the expectations of the artist.

 

Hours of Art

An Art Show was planned before the flooding rain came.  And now...we wondered do we carry on.

Are there rules, or is there a period between disaster and when we gather for joy?

The show is scheduled for Sunday Afternoon, exactly a week after the rain.

How are we supposed to respond in the days after, in our lives, with our plans?

I know that there are families facing really hard times, and pain and suffering surrounds them.

In the darker times of my life, I liked being able to leave my pain behind and look at art.

Art gave my soul energy.

This show is outside, what I like to call a "Pop-up Art Show". 

It is just a few of us, a casual affair.

Outside along the bike path.

While at first it seemed improper to display bright joy inspiring items, it now seems to me that it is a must.

Artists are bringers of the Light.

We counter the darker times.

We share emotions of joy.

We inspire hope and a brighter future.

I am drawn to art that makes me smile and touches something inside of me.

The emotions that art brings out, seem to be the opposite of what devastation feels like.

Artist are needed the most when life's disasters strike.

So, the Pop Up Show will go on.

We will display joy and whimsy.

We will make your heart smile and move hope inside.

The greatest things I needed when I was in my darkest spot, was to see someone else who had suffered and was now thriving in life.

Pop up art shows are a way of celebrating that life does go on.

Humanity has the incredible ability to suffer greatly and still find the strength to be in joy.

What I know about suffering, it changes you.

It can open up places you never knew you had.

In those deep places of pain, one day you will feel equal amounts of love, joy and peace.

May those who feel drawn to attend come and enjoy a few hours of Art.

 

 

 

 

Women are Rising!

What I love about writing on this blog are the answers and understanding I get, that I didn't have previously. 

Yesterday, I believed that we had to change MSU, and found out the bigger and most important change will happen with the Sister Survivors.

Somehow we often believe our happiness and well being lies outside of who we are.

That we need changes to happen in order for our worlds to be better. And, this change is often see "out there".  

They need to....

Fill in the blank.

However, if you instead turn your eyes inward and see if you can indeed be the change you want to see in the world, life becomes real.

You then have to do what you wish others would do.

It will not be as easy as you picture, but way more enthralling to be part of.

When victims become empowered, they change the legacy of abuse on their limb of the family tree.

They end the cycle by showing how to live an empowered life.

This I believe is the most beautiful thing to witness and be part of.

The difference between the woman I was at 46 and who I am today, is not even recognizable.

All the systems that failed me, empowered me to become a stronger me. And, actually defined me.  I had to become a full and acting member of my life.

I wasn't able to just be a bystander wishing, hoping and waiting for others to change.

I changed, and it made all the difference in my life.

I found my own self worth and that is much more worthy, if you will, than if another raised me up.

I learned to use my voice, regardless of how it sounded to others, it was important for me to speak up. To show the world how I felt, what I thought, and what I stood for.

So now I see that 200 plus women who spoke up to Judge Aquilina, are women who are well on their journey to becoming empowered!

What is more exciting than that?

My mind has a default setting that spins around and around trying to get others to do this or that.  Yet, if challenged, the greater solution always lies within.

There is nothing more beautiful to me than seeing someone become empowered to be who they were born to be. To rise up and take ownership of their worlds. 

Dropping the chains and letting go of waiting for things to change, and fearlessly step into their worlds.

I have more character and knowing of who I am, because I challenged myself to be the woman, I wanted my mother to be.

I feel my value and understand my morals, I have earned them through facing my fears and doing what I felt was right for me.

I love the Me Too movement even more, for it is showing the world women becoming empowered. Taking back their power and standing up for themselves.

Our world is changing, each time a woman finds her voice and becomes her authentic self!

Empowered women are rising!

 

A few things I have learned about love...in no order of greatness.

True love requires authenticity, any falseness weakens it.

Love demands doing hard stuff. 

Opening up the conversation about our differences. And, knowing when to leave, for self-love.

Love is simple; when you allow yourself to be you.

When you love yourself enough, you always know what to do.

Love can hold sorrow, when it knows it was the right thing to do.

Love is freedom.

Love is art.

Love is full acceptance of what is.

Love is courage, for without courage, you can't be authentic or real or do hard things.

Love loves joy and pleasure and deep hearted sorrow.

It loves emotions; the voice of love.

I didn't know love until I knew heartbreak.  And, then I knew what love wasn't.

Love is like breath and personal to each of us.

It may be the music of our soul.

Love allows me to be me, imperfectly.

Being your true authentic self is being love in this world.  Happy Valentine's Day!  

 

 

 

 

 

It can be challenging to create a quilt that represents a feeling or emotion and for it also to look inspiring and not depressing, when the emotions are very soul engulfing.

When we first speak up about our abuse, it is completely terrifying and liberating.

The weight of what we have been dragging around, colors our view of life and self. 

To even see a self separated from the abuse is a hard thing to conceptualize.

I starred at the empty beach that held the "before" and then the two women in the water.

I understood the freedom they felt and I know the weight of abuse, but how to depict what Judge Aquilina told the girls?

I first thought of words, that portrayed abuse, and then the idea of rocks came - rocks with words??? 

Or, just a pile of rocks.

 

Is this one pile, just hers - how much do each of us carry when our abuse goes un-noticed or disbelieved?

Does it grow as we grow?

Is our soul eclipsed by the weight of carrying the burden of the untold story?

I believe the weight we carry is the truth that completely opposes reality.

We carry it until we find someone who will allow us to unburden ourselves.

Someone who will allow us to lay down our reality, upon a "perfect" institution, family or church.

They allow our truth to be added, regardless of the cost; Whose reputation is soiled, or whose value is decreased.

The truth is allowed to just enter in.

We can lay it down.

Others will now carry part of our pain.

 

 

 

 

 

Sunday Art for Judge Aquilina.

Today's Sunday Art, I wanted to try and depict the sentiment of Judge Aquilina's step into unchartered waters, opening up space for so many victims to break their silence and embrace their truth.

I was drawn to a water, or beach scene, and then I wondered.

One lady, embracing her new freedom and into magnificence, or two women?

How do you depict what I felt?

Perhaps the safety of standing up in places that were unfamiliar and unknown.

Empowered women, empower women!

We dare take a step when we see others in the unknown and thriving.

What I hadn't expected after the emotional feelings of her (Judge Aquilina) words was that the tides of emotion would change.

That the hope I had would die.

Hope that her words would fall from my mother. 

The contrast between these two women was too big to reach a place of overlap and my hope fell through.

Hope in that someday.

Or maybe.

And, what if.

The sheer beauty and the hollow landscape bowed me over.

We embrace her kindness and then have to feel the space where others were speechless or worse said things that caused more pain.

I also thought, that the reason her words were so beautiful was that they are rare.

Which is again so sad.

How is it possible that we as humanity haven't learned what to say to victims of abuse?

How can we be so awkward, that kindness bends us down with emotion?

If only, victims were met with the compassion that Judge Aquilina showed, oh the road to healing would be so short.

Instead we are set adrift in the barren landscape of silence. For our truth is not welcome, understood, accepted, acknowledged, wanted...

We can only change the legacy of abuse, the bad legacy of silence, by doing something different.

It is one thing for the victims to be brave and speak their silence, it is a totally other thing for those who are suppose to listen, how they respond.

We were offered a sea of grace, a welcomed soul, a caring ear to hear, and words of wisdom in her response.

Not the sea of grace, where the church hurled our "sins" to be lost forever.  But, a sea of grace that welcomes our truth to be exposed and the abusers to face justice.

Again, an example of justice that leans towards victims.

I will continue to work on this piece of art to show the magnificence in being free empowered by our truth - of how one person can be the change we were waiting for.

 

I wondered about adding words to the beach, the solid ground we sometimes cling to, the comfort in the staying on the safe side of fear.  Or perhaps words cheering on those who dare live their truth out loud.

 

A long way baby!

My Lady and I were in an Art Show this past weekend.  What a great reception we had!

While packing to go, I came across a quilt I had made back in 2009, 8 short long years ago.

She was incredible in her darkness and Art.

I titled her "Me and My Shadow". I believe it was for a local quilt shop challenge.

Either way, the look and feel of this one compared to my latest works is quite remarkable.

The fabric was dyed by me. (which reminds me, I need to play in Dye again.)

I see her face, and remember trying to fit the yarn behind the circle.  Weird how I had that concept, to create that way.

The murky dark colors swirled with light are quite stunning; when you understand that often our art is our subconscious speaking.

At the show on Saturday, I had a number of people comment on Me.  

In that, they can't believe my transformation. Words, like glowing, alive, energized, that I swallowed my Art...etc.

My Ladies, had their fair share of compliments too. How lucky am I that others love how I play with color and design.

I love that we both are transforming, growing and it shows!

 

My daughter posted a quote. "You can't use up creativity. The more you use, the more you have." By Oscar Wilde

This quote is so true, in my experience. I can't know when I will run out of art. But, each time I arrive in the basement to play, ideas abound!

The enthusiasm I felt from the show itself will fuel me for weeks and months.

I have come a long way baby!!

Unwillingness to listen

"The voice for truth speaks to every person on the planet, every single day, and that voice is as loud as our willingness to listen."  Gandhi

 

I love this quote!

Just as beauty is in the eye of the beholder, truth is in the ear that listens for it.

You truly have to want to know the truth.

Most often the truth will upset a false ideal you have.

And, if you are completely in love, committed and faithful to the false, you will not have a listening ear for truth.

Who knew that the truth depends upon a willingness to hear it?

I did.

My words bounce back from unwilling ears.

Most will attack my knowledge or question my estrangement.

Those who hear my truth typically are not affected by it. They have nothing to lose to hear me. Those with the most to lose, hear the least.

If you are willing to listen, the truth will speak.

I used to ask, "what am I not getting?"  I asked for the truth.

It is amazing that inside of you is a wall built against certain truths.

A buffer of sorts built up to protect you from knowing that which is painful or terrifying.

We then become a prisoner inside of the buffer wall.

Separated from reality.

Reality is seen only when we listen.

I remember feeling that I saw too much. Too much of reality.

When in fact, I heard to much.

Nothing was off limits.

No word was discarded.

All were accepted.

Pedophile.

She knew.

They knew and did nothing.

I don't know who I am.

What I believe.

Where I came from.

My own truths.

The list of things I hadn't heard, all began reciting their lines.

An avalanche of truths flooded me; the truth felt my willingness to hear.

Even while I was trembling with fear.

Breaking the silence, begins with our own ears.

I wonder if the opposite of denial is willingness?

Nope, it is agreement, approval, affirmation, avowal...

Yet, my journey changed completely with my willingness to listen.

And, the one who I had to listen to first, was me.

My life.

My feelings.

My inner soul.

When I listened to me, I became Me.

I heard what I loved, what brought me peace and joy.

I heard what broke my heart.

I heard false words with actions that didn't match.

I heard silence, and no remorse. Excuses and defense.

I listened to me, even when others didn't agree.

Our willingness to hear our own truths, is to live with integrity.

Being unable to live your truth, is to live as an imposter.

I am not sure how much of reality you can see if you are not aware of your own truths.

This unwillingness, is the framework of denial.

Which is why our perceptions of reality are often not the same.

We only see with our willingness to listen.

I keep making waves in the sea of unwillingness to listen!

 

 

 

Celebrate by Refusing!

Today is "International Women's Day" and one of their themes is "Be Bold For Change".

I looked up the word Bold, to see what its expectations are.

"(of a person, action, or idea) showing an ability to take risks; confident and courageous."

Being bold means taking risks and being confident enough to start out.

I don't believe you have to have the whole route planned; but you do have to know what you want to change.

Change can be small.  

And, we each are defined by what is bold for us.

My bold may not be bold enough for someone else OR too bold and too risky for others.

I didn't start out where I am today. 

My first step was shaky and timid; but with great resolution.

I knew what I wanted, and hoped to accomplish.

My inspiration was to do differently than the women who, I believe, failed me.

I was going to be the change I wanted to see in the world.

Which meant, I had to take risks and be bold.

I wasn't confident, but I was courageous...just to take the first steps.

I had to be willing to enter into conversations and confrontations without a known exit.

Nothing was off limits.

All was to be examined and faced, as well as accepted.

I had to be the woman I thought my mother was.

Morals and values with the fierce determination to up hold them, no matter what or who I had to walk away from.

I signed up to be for bold change against violence.

Here are the categories beneath it.

educate youth about positive relationships
challenge those who justify perpetrators and blame victims
donate to groups fighting abuse
speak out against the silence of violence
be vigilant and report violence
campaign for the prevention of violence
abstain from all violence, physical and otherwise
volunteer your help at a local charity
recognize coercive control and redress it

I have been doing most of this.  

The second line, "Challenging those who justify perpetrators" may mean family, friends, colleagues. 

It means taking a risk and speaking out.  It could mean losing a relationship as you challenge someone.

Typically, it will not be standing face to face with perpetrators but, rather questioning those who stand with them.  These perpetrators do not act alone. They always have a defensive core around them.  Who are you standing with?

Being Bold For Change, means being an active risk taker.

I listened to Rob Bell speak of The Third Way

 

What I got from this, is that there is another way, besides turning the other cheek in passivity or retaliating with an eye for an eye.

I see the third way for me, was to step out of abusive relationships. Instead of me being the one to suffer the consequences of their dysfunctional or codependent behaviors, I was the one to take my power back.

He made reference to Roza Parks.  How her refusal to be part of something, was her third way.  I agree.

I have been refusing to be part of the abuse cycle that has gone on for generations in my family of origin. I am the Roza Parks.  I refused, and be damned the consequences.

I did draw a line in the cement.

I am unmovable.

That is what I believe we need, to end the longevity of abuse.  Someone has to stop it.

Refuse to be part of it...willingly or unwillingly.  It has to end with you.

Take the risk and just refuse.

The energy and momentum that happened when I stopped giving my energies to the cycle of abuse, is quite remarkable. 

My inner changes, explorations, self-empowerment, and self-worth rose with each refusal.

You first have to know what you refuse to do.

It isn't often what you support, but rather what you will no longer stand for. 

And, in my case, my inner self was so weakened by years of denial, I didn't have an ounce more to give to the cause of dysfunction.

And, yet there seemed to be an untapped source of boldness towards not letting the abuse by my father define me.  As well as an unlimited supply of courage to stand by victims and myself.  

Standing up for myself in front of my mother was my greatest achievement...in refusing to agree as she justified her actions.

Again, abusers are someone we know 95% of the time. 

Will you be bold enough to challenge your relationships?

When was the last time you refused to participate by disagreeing?

Being Bold for Change is a way to celebrate International Women's Day.

Refuse!

I looked up the definition of Refuse.

"Indicate or show that one is not willing to do something.  Indicate that one is not willing to accept or grant."

What we fail to appreciate, is that we agree by not refusing!

Refusing, is where new energy flows.

I refuse what does not empower!

That's being badass!

Refusing is an empowering action!

Women rise by refusing to agree with what insults their souls!

Happy International Women's Day - I celebrate by refusing!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Artist and her Art

I had the opportunity to stand with my art in public.  

This time however, it wasn't connected with my story in speaking out about abuse.  It was just my art and me.

The background story wasn't the focus, nor was the revealing therapy exposed. 

Just surface level artistry, or it seemed,  the 5% of me showing.

The pretty part.

And, I was judged in a way that I hadn't been before.

By my art. Period.

No past.

No Me.

Just fabric and design was to be the judge of who I was.

Those who came didn't mean to appraise me this way, but my art this time was the subject, not abuse or art therapy or women empowerment.  

And, I was just the lady who sewed.

My life, it seemed didn't go beyond the sewing machine.

Artist.

"Are you the artist"...."Where is the Artist"...."You are the real deal"

My art and I, were seen so differently.  

I felt weird to be the 'artist'. To be accepted or rejected by what I did, or more, by how they liked or didn't like my art.  Or, even if it passed the test of being art.  

With each individual, I had the opportunity to pass or fail, depending upon their experiences of Art.

When my Art came before Me and my story, I felt that I personally, was not in control of it being art.  They were.

I and my efforts, were secondary to the outcome.

I am not sure if I can articulate this correctly.

But, my art mostly has been shown along with the deeper story and my journey of healing from sexual abuse and my art has been my companion in a very loving way.

It has been with me in the dark times, the times when I didn't know who I was or how my story would end.  

Art showed me, I would be okay, long before I knew.  It expressed the most beautiful parts of me, even in our first attempts to dance together.  The small, frozen shadow of a woman, drew from me - excitement.

(Art created between 2005 - 2008)

My art drew me out.

The me, that was barely visible beneath the life of denial.

Our intimate journey, has been one where I followed my art.  Figuratively and emotionally.

My art was my guide.  

It wasn't art, in its usual sense. It was the vehicle I used to express and find myself.  

I was almost forced to art, by how I wasn't able not to do it.  

It was my peaceful place to reside when my world was upside down.

These early Ladies were my becoming.

The dialogue between Me and Me.

To now place the Art as a flat image seems so surreal, when it has been a soul in fabric.

An earlier piece, with great energy, movement and aliveness.  Is this art?  Who cares, to me it gave me more than I could ever give back.

Me, the artist?

No, me the receiver of inspiration and esteem.

It dared me forward.

With colors, design and challenges.

It has been the backdrop of my journey.

The heartbeat and knowing.

And, yet not the story.

It held the story.

and, me.

Art has been my nonjudgemental friend. Always succinctly meeting me exactly where I was.  I couldn't fool art and be more than I was.  It pulled from my subconscious my value and emotions and self-expression.

Is this true in all artists?

I can't know.

Art for me, hasn't been art, but the leader out of darkness or into it.

It has been the explorer and the explored.

The greatest value that it holds is me.

My wellness is stitched in so many seams.

My thirst for hope, peace, love and joy... shout from the colors and designs.

See Me.

I see Me.

Coming from denial of self, art was the mirror of my soul.

Who are we, my art and I?  

Artist and art?

We are so much more than that and then just that.

My journey in fabric, the artist and her Art.