Making ME.

You so know that a woman who made art about depression (see one post here, and search the blog for other examples), was inevitably going to make work about ME.  So, stuck in the rental, I used what remained of my stash to create this piece. 

I wanted to express the impact that ME has had on my life.  I was frequently described as 'vibrant', 'full of life', and my work reflected that.  Strong colours, oranges, reds, bright blues.  And then I got ME, and work, and vibrancy, stopped dead.  Months in bed, then months in a chair, with little movement, and resting every hour...and when I say resting, I mean ten minutes of every hour spent in silence, with my eyes closed.  Gradually, things improved, and I started to do some handwork, but I don't expect to ever return to the levels of productivity I used to have.  In a way, that's what this quilt is about.

It is made from the most subdued colours I could find in the very limited (one ziplock bagful) of scrap I had remaining. I was, incidentally, astonished to find that I had the colour range I needed for this particular piece, not really my colours at all.   Much of the cloth, like the piece with the postal marks, has been used with the wrong side up, to keep it as neutral as possible.  The dark stitching reflects two things; the amount of crying I do (emotional lability, not to be confused with depression, is a feature of ME), and the idea of the bars on a jail cell.  I don't get out much any more, and the loveliest of houses can feel like a prison if you don't feel able to leave it.  There is a hint of hope in this piece, though, and it is implied by the border fabric.  It is all the same fabric, but the bottom piece and the central bar are right sides out; the rest are wrong side up.  If you look closely, you will see that there is metallic patterning across the surface of the fabric, a gold colour.  For me, that represents hope.  I have indubitably improved in the seven or so years I've had this illness, and whilst it's unlikely to ever leave me, at least I can do a fraction of the amount of work I used to, and hug my family, and do some basic housework.  It's not much, but it makes a life.

More stitch needs to be added; you can see the beginnings of it here:

And, in a move much unlike me, I will probably add a narrow binding.  Yes, I still hate binding, but it seems appropriate here.  Dammit.  I think there's likely to be a series of these little pieces, and/or a small handmade book or two, if only to increase awareness of the illness and its consequences for sufferers.  ME is willfully misunderstood as a mental illness; it is all too physical, and research is beginning to work out what the problems really are. If you are interested, it's worth looking at the ME Association's website; click here for a description of what ME is.

And now I'll get off my soapbox, and on with that stitch.

Writing...

is something I have felt I ought to be able to do, but somehow couldn't.  I trained as a linguist; if anyone could write, you would think that I would be able to. I thought that I was condemned to translating other peoples' work, other peoples' ideas...that I had none of my own.  Recently, though, I've been writing a lot, mainly haiku, but some poems, and the tentative beginnings of a novel.  Very tentative.

I've been quite disturbed by the way in which the recent suicide of the truly gifted Robin Williams has been reported, so I wanted to share this.  Those of you who have followed the blog for a while, know that I suffer from chronic depression, and that some of my work is around that.  This is by way of an attempt to explain to people who just don't 'get it' for one reason or another, just what depression is like.

To Those Who Don't Believe In Depression.
I know you don’t believe that we’re in pain. Mostly because you cannot see we’re broken, The things that we keep hidden because we feelAshamed, inadequate, insufficient, lostIn a darkness you don’t seem to see,Mostly because you don’t know how to look.Or perhaps, you’ve never thought that it was possibleTo seem to be one thing, yet feel another,Both at the same time. And yet, it is.We can’t explain it to you; hell, we can’t explain it to ourselves.But it is as real as you are, to us, and though our bodiesAre not broken, we are in pain.How can we explain it? Did you, when you were young,Lose a cat, a dog, or even, perhaps, a person? RememberHow it hurt? Remember being told that the cared for oneHad gone away to heaven? And thinking that you didn’tUnderstand? Such pain, such confusion…but gradually, youFelt less and less, remembered less and less, and returnedTo your usually happy state… and life went on.Imagine that pain, intensified, confusion combined with the feelingThat it is all your fault, the way you feel, that this thing should be happening.Imagine it going on and on, for years and years, without improving; ratherIt just gets worse. And it is never forgotten, not for a nanosecond. 
Perhaps, if you can imagine that, you can beginTo understand, to accept, above all, not to judge.That is all we ask for, we who suffer. It doesn't seem like much.


Personally, I thought Robin Williams was immortal, a touchstone, a miracle.  Through his work, perhaps he truly is.  His death is a reminder that all of us have demons.  Some of us deny them, some ignore them.  Some grapple with them and lose.  Some gain temporary respite... but they don't often go away entirely.  We don't know each others' demons... but we should try to remember that they are there.

Negative Thinking...

affects us all, whether we admit it or not, whether we're depressed or not (though depression does make it rather worse...).  One of my favourites is that I'm lazy, that I don't work hard enough.  And then, as I did today, I go to tidy the studio and realise that it's not strictly speaking true... I just get diverted a lot.  There is, however, a lot of work around...  I picked up these five pieces that had been kicking around the studio (out of a Rather Substantial Pile), waiting for something... In this case, I think they had been waiting for me to get back into hand sewing.

Clockwise from top left is a piece of silk, with yarns and other pieces of silk needlefelted onto it.  Then there is a piece of Evolon which has been printed using one of my hand cut lino blocks, then transfer dyed, then stitched.  Below that, there is a piece of transfer dyed lutradur, fused onto crinkled paper (I think that one is probably upside down in this image).  Fourth, is a piece of shibori painted nylon beneath a piece of transfer dyed lutradur, with a lot of stitch, and finally, a transfer dyed monoprint. All of these pieces need more stitch, except the fourth one, which needs embellishment, I think with tiny lutradur flowers, and maybe some three dimensional leaves... we'll see.

I like all of these pieces, but have a sneaky preference for the first one...though I'm fond of the monoprint, too.  Guess that's my Easter weekend sorted out....what with warping up the peg loom, and starting the rug, and possibly buying a couple of plants (well, it's traditional, right?).  If you celebrate it, have a very Happy Easter.  And don't worry; a girl (or boy) really can't have too much chocolate!

I Love It...

...when things come together.  A creativity prompt from Myfanwy Hart's 'Be Creative' project on Facebook and Wordpress, a piece of fabric I didn't know what to do with and a software package.
Myfanwy's prompt was to draw a self portrait with your non dominant hand.  Not being terribly good with other peoples' suggestions, I thought I'd take it a stage further, and draw with my sewing machine (look, mom, no hands!...or should that be, both hands?).  I took a piece of Evolon I'd  transfer dyed in layers, which has heavy diagonals, which I felt interrupted the piece.  I cut a section off, and started stitching.

I've never drawn a face with a sewing machine, before, just out of my head, no .  I showed Robin the reverse, and his first comment was, your face, on a bit of fabric...so it can't be all that bad...he did say he wasn't sure if anyone else would see a likeness, however.  You can always rely on your relatives to tell it like it is...

As with everything, i see all the flaws... but it's okay, I guess... looks better with colour.  And so, I played a little with it in PSP, to see what was possible...

Now, this has potential.  Years ago, when I started working with Bertha the large scale printer, I wondered about working digitally into images of my own work, but never actually did anything with the idea.  I think this piece suggests that it's definitely working.

I had been working with photographs of myself, exploring depression and what it means, what it might look like if you could see it.  I wasn't happy with the results of that, and stopped, because the images felt static, somehow, like these images;

The one on the top is early depression, the stage where you are sad, but not yet immobilised; the lower image is late depression, when you are frozen in place, and pain is almost unbearable.  I think perhaps that some combination of images, photographs and stitch, might be the way forward.

Back to the sewing machine...

Working With Pain.

I have a lot to do today.  I need to make up packs of textile and transfer paints for the local gallery, and to sell on my upcoming website.  And I need to put together a set of samples for the new class I'm offering at the gallery, on working with fabric paint.

Today is also the day I hit a wall of pain.  It happens, every so often.  Usually, what happens is that I knock my head against that wall until I weep copiously and then go to sleep.  The definition of madness,of course, is doing the same thing time and time again, but expecting a different outcome.  Today, I want and need a different outcome.

So, in the kitchen, waiting for the kettle to boil for my second cup of the day, I asked myself, what does the pain look like?  And in my head, I saw a wasteland of stones, pebbles, rocks.  Surely, I thought, nothing creative could be done there; it's barren.

And then I looked harder.  Each stone is beautiful in its own right.  Could make the beginnings of a piece of work, all by itself.  Combined, they are overwhelming, but beautiful.  Lonely, but beautiful.  Sad, but beautiful.  And surely, they will be the basis of some interesting work.

:
Pain.  You can lie down underneath it, or you can ask it what it has to give you.  You might be surprised.

Continuing To Struggle...

... as my Granny would have said, there's nothing else for it.  I'm continuing to work on the piece I showed you yesterday, though I'm fast coming to the conclusion that depression and hand stitch do not mix well; three times, I've stabbed myself with my own needle, hard enough to draw blood...sigh.  So I think I'll go and do some more monoprinting, instead.

Here's a close up.  The piece is called 'Out Of Kilter'; the circles appear at first glance to be in a structured grid pattern, but they aren't really.  Some are ovals, some are circles.  It looks like I feel... a regular person on the outside, shambolic on the inside...out of kilter.

The next stage is to add some lime green crosses, I think.  No idea why, except that the colour is important.  They won't be regular, either, I shouldn't think.  For the meantime, though, I'm off to paint...

Struggling...

with the demon depression once more.  I've had a period of several months where I've been pretty much a depression free zone, but the last couple of days have been difficult, today especially.  So...when the going gets tough...I turn to paint, in this case, fabric paint.  I'm fascinated by monoprinting, and went out to the Little Green Shed to play with some recently dyed fabric.  The above is one of the results... watch this space for more of them!  Looking forward to stitching this one, I like it a lot.  Hand stitching with variegated stitch, methinks.  A haiku piece, not as small as postcard sized, but not as big as journal sized... you can tell I just can't be bothered getting the tape measure, can't you...

No Comment.

Well, you know, I keep saying I'm coming back to blogging, but then I keep underestimating how severe the depression has been over the past three years or so.  Merely putting on a happy face and continuing to work just hasn't done it, so I haven't been making, and therefore not blogging.  I am, however, hoping that I'm climbing up the other side of a very deep black hole; therefore, I'm not making any promises about blogging.  I'm here today; I might not be here tomorrow.  Regardless, though, I hope you know that I do think about my friends in the world of blogging, and thank you for persevering.

It's been a difficult week (and it's only Tuesday...sigh...).   Recognising it was going to be hard, I bought myself some gerbera, which always cheer me up (what, you didn't think I grew them, did you???).  When I'm coming out of a depression, I begin to realise how muany things I've neglected, and what I need to do to put things right.  The studios look as if bombs have gone off in them, and I've spent a bit of time in the shed today, putting things to rights.  In the kitchen too... I had left a lot of the plastic jugs and buckets I use for dyeing outside for...err... rather a long time... so they needed a good scrubbing.  I don't have plumbing in the studio, so it all got dragged up the path to the house, hosed off outside and finally scrubbed in the kitchen sink.  Mwah.  I'm now ready to dye, and the garden looks a bit better for it, too... no surprises there. Most of the improvement to the garden, though, is thanks to two lovely young chaps who are gradually working their way through much neglected borders, cutting things back, digging things up and generally being helpful.  Including unearthing a LOT of buckets...not sure whether to be grateful or not.

This afternoon, though, I felt that I really had to make something.  So, I looked out some lino blocks that I cut at one of the markets I take the work to, and decided to test print them.  No matter how careful you think you've been in cutting the pattern out, there are always places on the blocks where you haven't quite cut enough away, making odd little marks on the print.  Now I don't mind odd little marks, but I'm planning to make some greetings card type prints, and the General Public tends to have a much tidier mind than me, so I'm being Very Careful.  To my surprise, the leaf print was absolutely fine, no further cutting required.  Here it is printed on an ACEO sized board which I'd sprayed with Brusho.

But it really wasn't enough... so I added another one... different colour, same block...

Better, huh?  More interesting, anyway.  Probably not the best quality printing you've ever seen, but it's a reasonable composition, and I think I'll play with that idea on a larger, or rather, longer, scale; it would make an interesting printed border.    The flower, though, was not so well cut; look at the extraneous marks...

And as well as the unwanted marks, there are one or two places where the petals themselves haven't worked well.  They need a trim, as well as removing all the odd bits and pieces.  That's a job for this evening, in front of the tv.  I have one of those trays on pillows, which is ideal for cutting lino blocks on my knee.

And then there was the little word... Joy.  Joy, my granny.  No joy at all... lots of wee annoying bits to take out...  but it will, I hope, be worth it...

As you can see, haven't quite got it right, yet... and too much paint, too... (as a believer in Making Things Difficult For Myself I'm working with fabric paint rather than printing ink... this is probably A Mistake, but hey, I've done it now.  Besides, most of the time I'm working on fabric, anyway...).

And, when I noticed the too much paint bit, I thought I'd try a ghost print... and preferred it to the first one...

So...the manner in which I apply the paint needs to be considered...

In the spirit of change in which I'm working, I even tidied up after myself, so I can go in the shed tomorrow and dye.  Note the spelling!  If you would like to make comments on the post or the quality of the printing, please feel free.  I answer when I can, particularly if you ask me questions... which I welcome too.  More tomorrow, I hope.

Whine, Whine, Whine...

...and it's not the whine of a buzz saw (see previous post...).  I've got the flu.  Nope, not man flu, even though I did get it from my husband, who believes in share and share alike...  The real, achy, coughing, sneezing flu.  Bleh.

For once, I'm practicing what I preach.  I'm tucked up in bed, with a cat at my side, feeling marginally better than yesterday, playing silly games on Facebook and sleeping a lot.  When I'm sleeping, I'm dreaming of hats, and weddings, and friends.  This is not a bad way to dream...  I'm leaving the hanging of our exhibition to Jill and Clare, and may not even make it to tomorrow night's opening.  This is not like me.  But I'm of the view that pushing myself to get up and out of bed is just so much wasted energy.  Better to keep it for getting better.  Health, in my book, comes before productivity, and marketing, and all those things... if I'm not well, I'm not well. 

That's not always the case when I'm depressed, though.  Over the years, I've come to realise that getting up and going for a walk, or to make something, will help to lift the depression, rather than make it worse.  Physical illness needs lots of rest.  Depression tells you it needs lots of rest, but if you can persuade it to shut up for five minutes, enough time to get engrossed in making or writing something, then often you feel refreshed and A Whole Lot Better.  It's a balancing act.  If it doesn't work after ten or fifteen minutes, I go for a nap.  There are worse things to do with ones time. 

Be kind to yourself, is what I'm trying to say, here.  Even when it feels as if you're being cruel, initially, like forcing yourself to work.  It may not fix everything...it may not even help anything... but it's always worth a try.

Scrap Bag Blues

...or greens, browns and yellows, not to mention the occasional red.  I'm struggling with depression, and the best thing I've found for that is to take bits and pieces of fabric that might not get used for anything else, and turn them into something meaningful.  The theme was spring... but as I pieced, I found myself thinking more and more of the Highlands.  Maybe it's because a friend from the Strath found me on Facebook, and connected... or maybe it's the colours, all of which I've seen in the hills.  I think these wee blocks are snapshots, Highland snapshots.  Though there's no deep green for the forests, there is the odd strong yellow for the oil seed rape, which doesn't come out up there til May, though here in Norfolk it has been blooming for a couple of weeks already, a very early start.

What to do with them?  If the depression continues, I'm likely to add to the pile.  As it is, I'm wondering about making little quiltlets out of them, and hanging them together.  Or I could sash them in deep brown, and make a small quilt. Or stitch them all together and put a couple of borders round them, dark green and brown, probably.  Decisions, decisions.  Thankfully, I don't have to make them all at once.

One Of Those Days...

where nothing goes right. I started stitching an interesting photograph, but couldn't settle to it.  Then, I started something else..that didn't work, either.  Finally, I picked up an innocuous monoprint of a leaf on Lutradur XL...and this is what it ended up as.  Happy?  No.  

I wanted texture... the good news?  I got it.  But it's unbalanced.  The yellow is too yellow, and the stitching outside the central motif isn't strong enough to balance it.  What it really needs, is a fine yellow cord.  Now fortunately, my friend Clare makes great cord... so with a bit of luck, she'll have some bright yellow threads to make some with...  in the meantime, I'll just have to brood.

Sometimes, when I'm depressed, as I seem to be today (it's been a two bar of chocolate sort of a day...I'll leave you to draw your own conclusions...), work is Just The Thing to get me out of it.  Today, though, it hasn't been.  As a rule of thumb, if I get more and more frustrated with what I'm doing, instead of getting sucked into the Zone, then the best thing to do is to go for a walk, or, in this case, go have a cup of coffee with a friend...preferably one who makes cord!

New Beginnings?

I post every year on the first of January; it's the anniversary of my beginning to blog. Usually I wax lyrical about the good things that have happened over the year, and the excitements to follow. This year, though, I don't really know what to say. Last year was possibly the worst we have lived through in 32 years of marriage. I have been ill for most of that time, and pretty much unable to work (and today, a combination of a cold and a grumpy tummy has me beginning the new year with more of the same...). I made things to sell for Christmas...but didn't allow for the demon depression, which bit me with a vengeance at the end of November and hasn't quite let go, yet. Still haven't made the Christmas cards I designed, and as for the decorations... oh well, there's always next year.

Robin is now officially out of work, and actively job hunting across the country, so everything is up in the air (anyone need a good FD?). We hope to be able to stay where we are; we love it dearly, and have made some wonderful friends. I have ideas for new directions, and a development on an existing direction, including learning millinery with my friends Clare and Jill (watch this space, or one very like it, for more detail...). I usually start each new year with a bounce; this year, it's more of a whimper, but I'm holding on in there. If you are in a similar position, know that you are not alone, and it's okay to feel less than positive about the new year. What isn't allowed, though, is to give up. The bad feelings will pass...they always do... opportunities will arise again....they always do... It helps if you can believe in yourself...or at least, in bits of yourself. The new year will doubtless not be perfect; that's fortunate, because neither are we. Just make sure you look after yourself...and I'll do the same, and we'll keep each other company, one day at a time. I feel better already...and it isn't just the cold remedy....

Thank you to everyone who has kept the faith with me and this blog over a truly awful year... I've said it before, but normal service is about to be resumed...like now. I'm planning for this blog to be a record of my rise out of the depths, and into renewed creativity and action. And if I can do it, so can you. I hope you'll keep me company... and I hope I'll help you to move into creativity and action, whether or not you feel you need it!

Up And Out...

I've been struggling with depression again for the past few weeks. One of my friends asked me if I had read my own book, 'Finding Your Creative Focus'. 'I've read it', she said, 'It makes a lot of sense. I just wonder if you remember what you wrote'. Of course, I could... albeit not in graphic detail. But I do know that one of the things I think I said in there, was the need to turn up to work regardless of how you feel. No waiting for inspiration to strike, or the muse to call; you just turn up and do the work.

I did that today. I worked on three small pieces, one of which is shown here. And I remembered; I feel sooo much better the minute I start to work. And the improvement in my mood continues for the rest of the day. I just don't seem to be able to remember that work equals happy. Which is rather a pity. But it only seems to be effective if I decide to work without anyone suggesting it to me. No idea why that is... perhaps it's just the habitual reaction of someone who has been told to 'snap out of it', and knows how impossible that is. Making beautiful things, though...that works. And that's how I got up and out of today's bad feelings; hopefully it will continue on into tomorrow. I've promised myself a day of stitching, though, so even if it doesn't appear to have lasted, it will soon come back again.

This particular thing is a manipulated macro image of part of a cyclamen plant, printed on canvas and then stitched into. I've added a detail shot of some of the stitching, and for once got the images uploaded in the right order. That's another thing I can't remember, the order in which I need to upload files to get them to look right... but that's another story. Meanwhile, I'm wondering if actually reading the book would help with the depression, too. I think that for too long, my focus has been too broad. Many moons ago, business guru Tom Peters suggested that successful businesses needed to 'stick to the knitting'. I've finished the scarf I mentioned in the last post, and will start another one, I think, but I don't see knitting in my future, just as I don't see other forms of art, like altered books, except for fun. I do see these manipulated images, lots of flowers, a few hearts and a lot more fun in my life. I think it's time. Now, where's my copy...

What A Difference...

a day makes... and a few photographs. My lovely friend Haydn took some shots of me in depression mode today, so that I could experiment with a variety of images in addition to the distinctly cheerful photos I have of myself. Let's face it, when you're depressed, you tend not to be photogenic. Although I do have some shots of myself recovering from the first bout of illness I had, which will be interesting to use. I'm fascinated by the possibilities of this approach. The observant among you will have nodding to yourselves in recognition of the influence that Eric Smee has had on what I'm doing, even although I haven't actually met or talked to him yet (though I do intend to remedy that once the weather improves...). If you have no idea what I'm talking about, I wrote about the effect his work had on me here and showed a picture of the image I was discussing here. More of his work can be found here.

This is the beginning of a journey, a journey through and within depression. It will be interesting to see what shows up during the journey, which I suspect will be a long one. But it is wonderful to have several of the themes that have been haunting me for the last few years come together in this way. And maybe that's why I've been marking time this year. In fact, I'm pretty sure that's why I've been marking time this year... but no more. Well, not until the next time I need to assimilate ideas and concepts, anyway....which could be tomorrow. Worth it, if the secret photographer within me comes out to play!

Another Opening...

but, for me, not any old show, but the first show I've taken part in in Cambridge. 'Another Brick In The Wall?' is a show of Outsider Art. It's interesting that at this point in my life, where I really don't feel like an outsider, much, at all, I seem to qualify as one by dint of my mental health (or lack of it...). It is an interesting show, nonetheless, mainly paintings. You can find more information about the exhibit, and the thinking behind it, here.

I submitted two pieces, one of which, a textile, was selected. Those of you who are familiar with my work over a period of years may possibly realise that in fact, this piece, Cracking Up/Pulling Myself Together, is an amalgam of two works. The two pieces, combined, seemed to say much more than they did apart. And so they are, now, one. Synergy is a wonderful thing. Mysterious, but wonderful. The first, Cracking Up, I have spoken about in previous posts. Its inspiration was drawn in part from Hunstanton Cliffs, which I find fascinating. They are made of chalk, and constantly changing, cracking up, reforming... a bit like me. The second, 'Pulling Myself Together', was made much earlier, from silks and cottons which were hand dyed and painted. So many depressed people are told to 'pull themselves together', often by professionals, who ought to know better (but clearly don't). It's difficult to pull yourself together when there are parts of your memory missing; which bits do you pull first, and how would you make a complete picture without the missing bits?

I find myself working more and more with these ideas. What does it mean to be well, to be ill, to change? I've talked on the blog before about scars; seen as negative things, they are, to me at least, signs of positive change, healing and growth. The same goes for erosion; you can see it as a loss, or as a gain. Certainly, it is a sign of change. And change is a good thing. If nothing else, it means we're not dead yet...

More Scars...

this one is entitled 'Defining'. I wondered... am I defined by my scars, or by myself? This piece explores that question. See what you think.

Kate is still here, and will feature on the other blog very shortly...it's great having an arty niece!

It Has Been A While...

since I posted, the demons have been dancing, and keeping me busy. I was asked recently to describe a bout of depression. In the end, I said, imagine your worst ever day, when nothing goes right, you feel lousy, tired and low, you hate your work, you hate everyone and you hate yourself. Then replay it over several weeks, as it gets steadily worse...and then steadily better...until you are wondering what all that was about. I'm one of the (arguably) fortunate people for whom fluoxetine (Prozac) actually works (if you believe the most recent studies, which suggests that antidepressants of this type don't work for many people), but all that means really is that I don't get quite as low as I used to.

I'd like to show you two things that I've received recently from other artists. The first was a PIF on another blog, by wonderful textile artist Karen Hall. I had forgotten about the PIF, and was amazed to receive this fabulous doll from Karen in the post, just after Christmas. As you can see, she is me !!! And I'm flying!!! Isn't she amazing? The second image is of a journal I received as part of an online swap in a group I'm part of, ZNE Artists And Poets. Again, it is a beautiful piece of work, by Heidi Eberle, expertly conceived and made.

So what do they have in common, apart from the fact that they were both made for me? Well... I have taken part in swaps, trades and such before, and doubtless will do again, but what makes both these pieces stand out for me, is that the artists have clearly seen me as a person. They have gone past the outer facade and made something for me that touches me at lots of different levels. That indicates a level of caring, much less craftsmanship, that leaves me both cherished and humbled. Karen, Heidi, thank you.

Inner Landscapes.

Today's painting is a study, a small, A4 sized mixed media on board. It is, I think, the beginning of a series, or the suggestion of a series, called Inner Landscapes, an attempt to show myself my feelings. As you can see, it's complicated in there. Dark and light. Confusing. Not always easy to live with. A blessing and a curse. But it's like they say; what doesn't kill you, makes you strong. All things considered, I'd rather not have the depression, but if I have to have it (and it does seem that way), then I choose to embrace it, to learn what it has to teach me. And that would be the basis of this particular series.

Lying Fallow...

...hibernating, call it what you will, but I seem unable to work on anything...I was going to say, meaningful, but that's not strictly true. For public consumption, might be a better expression. I find myself looking inwards, trying to understand what the purpose of this illness is, how I might come to better terms with it. So I'm working on altered books, endlessly prepping, impatient to get to the creative bits, but knowing that preparation is all... and playing with paper, too. Eventually, I may well show the work, but not right now.

But just to prove that I'm still obsessed by the embellisher, a new piece, made with some delicious silk bought on my shopping spree last week. I knew it would work well, and it has. Just think, I have a whole metre of it...delicious...

Back From Beyond?

Well, no. Not quite. But I'm getting there.

Depression is a constant in my life. When I say that, I don't mean that I'm full of doom, gloom, hellfire and despondency all the time; far from it. Actually, in truth, I spend a lot of time denying to myself and others that I have any kind of a problem. That's not really a useful strategy, but it has worked for most of my life. These days, it doesn't work so well, mainly because the illness is insistent that I admit the limitations it places on me. I'm a very slow learner. One of the things it reminds me is that I'm not Superwoman. Hell, I knew that; I don't wear my underpants outside my trousers, for a start... Sadly, however, that doesn't mean that I don't behave like Superwoman every now and again, take on too much and crash and burn. That's what happened recently, and why I've been so silent. Now, you find me starting to pick up the pieces, and make decisions.

I'm simplifying my life; I'm giving up the running of Alternativequiltlist on yahoo, and becoming an associate, rather than a full member of The Well. Going backwards to go forwards. Allowing myself some space and time to be, rather than to do. I'm not any sadder than I was, but I do hope I come out of this wiser. Why is being kind to oneself so difficult? Or even just remembering what I need, and providing it?

I'm beginning to paint again, after a period when I thought all my work was unbearably awful, textiles, paintings, the works... moving back to process when for a time, I got distracted by outcomes. The paintings are gentle, like this one, Blue Moon, a simple little square painting.