Living in the Moment

Photographers probably recognize this truth better than anyone: if you miss the moment, it is gone forever. As I work at the lakeside today, I am reminded how the continuous shift of the sun and clouds, the wind and the waves (whether dramatic or incredibly subtle) visually transform the mood of the landscape from moment to moment. The sounds of passing boat traffic and spontaneous birdsong — and the splashing of the neighbour's children as they swim — all work together to weave a complex symphony, with a melody and rhythm that never repeats from bar to bar. And what about our internal landscapes? Dreams, thoughts, opportunities and inspirations ebb and flow with their own unique undercurrents; if we are not present to recognize, greet and welcome them, I believe they will blithely continue on their way and leave us none the wiser.

Ironically, it takes longer than a moment to reflect on a previous moment, and in the process, we may be missing other moments that would have been equally inspirational. There are also many moments we are called to be active participants rather than passive observers: to create, to intervene, to build relationships and to shake things up… to change the moment.

Life is a balancing act. I believe that our ability to be aware of this duality — to respect the limitless elements that shape each moment, but still believing in our creative vocation as the human element in the equation and adding our own energy to the shaping process — is what allows us to be our most creative and productive selves.

DIY Xmas

This year we decided to mostly stick to homemade gifts, prepared with love: knitting, baking, quilting and jewellery. Along that theme, these marshmallow reindeer kits were a last-minute inspiration; lots of fun, they could be used for table toppers or small gifts.

From our family to yours, happy holidays and all the best for 2016!

Full Immersion

The word "immersion" has been knocking on the door to my consciousness at unexpected moments this week, like a persistent but uninvited guest. Of course, being human, I wonder why... and the search for meaning draws all kinds of elements into the mix.

For me, the word "immersion" conjures up the story of my English-speaking father, when we first moved back to Quebec, choosing to immerse himself in the language and culture of our new home by living with a French-speaking family in Quebec City for three weeks. Looking back now, I'm not sure why that made such an impression on me, but I think his positive experience smoothed the path to my own choice to enter the French immersion program at high school, years later, with the fervent encouragement of both my parents. 

When I think about immersion, the idea of baptism is another image that comes to mind. Full immersion baptism is symbolic of dying to the mistakes of the past in order to live a fulfilling and meaningful life. The words of one of my brother-in-law's songs—Baptism by Fire—have been running through my mind since last week, too; sometimes we find ourselves in circumstances where we must sink or swim, where we are called to pass through a refining fire in order to come out better than before.

We can become immersed in our work, in our thoughts, in our reading... and in the lives of those we love. In these times, we choose to flow with something beyond ourselves. The recent journeying of one family in our circle through the final illness and death of their loved one is a prime example. All else falls away, and eternity can be found in the depth of connection, in the holding of a hand and a story shared.

I think it's important to remember that immersion is not the same as submerging, drowning, or killing off any part of ourselves. It is about letting go of what we don't need (including misconceptions about our own abilities) and finding how to live and breathe and have our being wherever we may find ourselves, of being part of something bigger and better.

Most of us live our lives as air-breathing creatures of the earth; it can be scary to move beyond the elements we think we know and immerse ourselves in the creative realms of water and fire... to become mermaids or dragons or some other form of being that transcends the elements by becoming part of them and dissolving false boundaries.

So what does immersion mean for artists and makers? I think it means the choice to give ourselves over to something beyond our current understanding, to be willing to be "out of our element" at times; an openness to admitting that we don't know it all and to asking for help; a decision to let go of the past and to start fresh when necessary—cleared of preconceived notions and past mistakes. Immersion is about belonging, relationships and being part of something; it means letting the walls down and using the stones to build bridges. 

Living in a Dream World

As a graphic designer, pretty much all the visual work I do is for others. It tends to be done with deliberation and purpose, towards a particular destination and on a fairly strict schedule. It's a journey with a map and a timetable—although it may involve occasional spontaneous side trips—and it tends to involve a whole lot of other people on the tour. Sometimes I'm not sure whether I'm actually even a traveller, or if I am the bus driver. :)

As an artist, the work I do is more often just for myself... but I find it challenging to break out of the corporate design routine and allow myself some relaxed visual playtime, to wander along an unexplored path on my own, for no real purpose and with no fixed destination in mind, just following where inspiration beckons.

(Note to all the professional fine artists out there: I'm definitely NOT saying that design is work and art is play - they each require elements of both... just that for me, the playtime part of my design work always seems to be done with one eye on the clock and one hand on the wheel.)

It occurs to me that dreams offer a great model for play in the creative process: in dreams, we seem to be able to explore the world in a completely different way. We suspend our logic and belief systems and just go where the dream takes us.

I'm pretty tired this morning, and really not all that keen to wake up completely—or to work hard at writing anything sensible or profound—so instead, today I am simply sharing a series of images from a colourful dreamtime journey, a play-time exploration from the seed of a dream-like image, a reflection of departure from the office at the end of the day, at the end of the week, at the end of the winter. 

Untangling the Big Ball of Wool

Have you ever tried to wind a skein of wool into a ball? I have recently discovered that it's not as easy as it looks. The first time I tried it, I ended up with a big, tangled mess. The second time, I used a special wooden wheel to stretch out the skein while I wound it up. It worked much better. I have yet to try the human yarn winder method (which replaces the wooden wheel with a pair of hands from a willing volunteer.)

How is this related to the creative process? Well, for me, the metaphor goes like this: a little of bit of preparation and planning—along with proper tools and more than one pair of hands—can really make the process smoother and less time-consuming... but if we do end up with a tangle, we need to apply patience and determination to tease out the strands, little by little, until we have something we can knit together into almost any kind of product, in an infinite array of patterns and styles. 

Mind you, we could avoid most of the tangling issues right from the start by limiting ourselves to the basic pre-packaged wool found at any big box craft supply store... but if we want to benefit from the unique attributes of artisanal quality resources, we better be prepared to invest the extra time and learn how to wind it all up properly.

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Dancing with the Muse

[And no... I didn't mean "music"... in case you were wondering.]

Last night, I got home late (I went to see "Abraham in Motion" at Place des Arts as part of the Danse Danse series...it was excellent, by the way). I wasn't quite ready to sleep so I pulled out my computer for a few minutes to organize and clean up some quilt designs I had started years ago (for example, the Hollyhocks and Lilies design above.) I pulled a few elements out of the design and began rearranging them into repeating patterns and playing with colour placement. Before I knew it, it was 2:30 in the morning and I had created preliminary versions of four different fabric patterns, some in at least ten different colour ways. I'm not sure how final they are, but I have some new ideas flowing now...

When our creative muse beckons, we sometimes need to drop what we're doing and get out on the dance floor... even if we're not dressed for the ball.

For what it's worth, I think that we're also more likely to get invited to dance if we make space for those kinds of opportunities in our calendars and plan to show up...even if we're just sitting on the sidelines, waiting for someone to ask.

Either way, if we're willing to follow our muse's lead, we're bound to learn a few new steps along the way.