in the moment. this moment.

port townsend view, photo by jonny

port townsend always invites me to feel refreshed and open. love that place.

back from artfiberfest, my heart and head are full of goodness and ideas. a sense of renewel is swirling around me. at the same time though, i am also feeling a bit lonely as my house is so quiet and when i plug in my sewing machine and begin to create, i am not surrounded by friends and laughter.

this is what happens. lots and lots of goodness. then lots and lots of quiet. and i am struggling with that a bit.

and when i struggle with this feeling, this lonely quiet sort of feeling, i try to just stay as present as possible. breathing. in this moment. just being here.

i took three delightful classes with mary stanley, ruth rae, and tracie lyn and marylin huskamp. really, really good stuff. i learned rug hooking (and began to understand how long each project takes and the talent it takes and proceeded to buy two fantastic pieces from mary at vendor night because i love it all so much - photos to come)...i was pushed to think of ways to use all the vintage bits i have been collecting for the last few years and i learned about how visually appealing layering is and how really really fun it is to dye things (more on ruth's class in another post after i finish my soulful doors)...and...AND...i totally painted a bird onto fabric. yep. can't wait to tell you more about that experience after i take some photos...

and i spent time with some wonderful people (list to come...promise...i just want to get all the links together and that takes a bit of time). the group that is the small retreat of artfiberfest just rocks my world. adore them.

tonight i am putting aprons into the shop (natasha reversible aprons and selma task aprons). we have been blessed with some beautiful blue sky around here, which made taking the photos a joy yesterday.

and i know i mentioned updating the shop with scarves this week, but i am sending the scarves i curently have off on an adventure.

so, if you are interested in a selma patchwork scarf (like the one above) and some fall-ish selma patchwork pillows (like the one below), head over to the online shop of artstream studios. i am so delighted to have my first batch of items listed there (a big thanks to susan for her kindness and patience and for helping me to live a dream that was once just a comment on a blog post).

sorry i have been quiet lately...but i so appreciate your emails and comments and how you remind me that i am not alone.
you are not alone either.
thank you for you.

a little about artfest

I must admit that no, I haven't unpacked yet. And, ahem, I am still in my pajamas this Thursday afternoon.

My heart is still full of the joy that was Artfest. The connection and the creating…this is what I will remember. I learned so much this year…especially about myself. I tapped into confidence, which in turn tapped into a sense of self-joy. Is that a phrase? Self-joy? Well, it seems to represent how I was and am feeling.

I was indeed twirling during Artfest just as I had been twirling the previous weekend.

And, just like the last two Artfests, I was too present in the moment to take photos. I guess I just wanted to experience more than document. I think we have to do that sometimes. Step away from the camera (or maybe the need to capture something to blog about it) and be with the people who surround us as we experience something, whether it was something out of the ordinary like Artfest or something a bit more everyday like sitting at a table eating lunch.

But, it is also a joy to document…oh yes it is. And, I have loved reading the posts on others' blogs about their Artfest experience and seeing their photos. People made the most incredible art this year. (Yes, this happens every year, but for some reason show and tell night just seemed full of more vibrancy and more people feeling brave enough to share their creations.)

After my first Artfest, I came back to this space and wrote about all of it in several parts. My head was just spinning with all the wonder that was my experience. Although I would like to tell you about my classes (I will take photos of what I created...I promise I will Jen) and why I love Port Townsend and so many other things, today, I am feeling more drawn to say this:

This year, Artfest was about me meeting me.

I had Annie Lockhart's class the first day and I decided to use a vintage hand mirror in my assemblage piece. Although that piece was hanging in my dorm room for the rest of Artfest, I felt as though I carried that hand mirror around with me and was constantly looking in it seeing my true self.

Through connecting with so many people…through the many conversations and the shared truths with Kelly Rae…through the moment when I heard Michelle's voice for the first time Wednesday and felt my heart widen…through watching the joy on Kelly's mom Carol's face after her first class…through the laughter until tears rolled down my face…through the deep friendship I feel when I spend time with Kim…through the "oh yes I totally get that" moments shared with Candice and Julie…through eyes meeting with understanding as I talked to my new blogging friend Kelly…through the shared meals with Diane…through the hugs with Blue Poppy and the immediate connection I felt with her friend Mindy…through the moments after class with Ali and Dona and Jill and Stephanie…through learning and chatting with Reisha (am I spelling your name right girl? email me and tell me please)…through the sunshine and the windy rain…through the "how are you?" moments with Misty…through the tears...through sitting on the floor in the dorm hallway sharing about classes and life and a common love for Theo's artwork...through the wise words of Susan…through the joy (and wisdom gained) that is time spent with Katie and Judy…through the commiserating over no heat or hot water…through the learning from Annie, Bee, and Nina…through the connecting with familiar faces like Ginny and Joyce and Sharon and Kristen…through so many other moments…through it all…I also connected with me.

I spend so much of my time alone that it took this year at Artfest, and the time spent with others, for me to get out of my own head and see myself.

Through the excitement and ups and downs and creating and connecting, I feel strong and grounded in the person I am becoming.

twirling inside

the plate of the car in front of diane, susan, and me at barnes and noble sunday evening.

i spent the weekend twirling inside friendship, community, and words, lucky enough to spend an afternoon with a friend then an evening with two goddesses and a day writing and listening to poetry and another evening of laughter, words, and truths...

i. love. poetry.

i took another workshop with susan wooldridge. when asked why i was there that day, i said that taking her workshop last year helped me to find another layer of my authentic voice.

yes. yes. yes.

some words i wrote on sunday:

i am a baby blue fifth chakra'd studebaker convertible
i am the fourth from the landing brown-carpeted step on garland circle
i am ignored red lips stroking your hair
i am tangerine fringe tickling the top of her silver damasked living room
i am the comma following the disappearing, webspinning secrets
i am the coocooing echo
i am clutter
i am mending

diane begins the workshops she hosts in a small one-room"house" on her property. we sat in a circle and the air seemed to crackle with all that was about to happen in a little workshop filled with words as people shared why they were here and a bit of their hopes. the sacredness of a circle of women. in this case, women i had never met until that day. i am ready to go back to diane's for a workshop as soon as i can. (you should join me.)

susan invites such a sense of safety and openness in her workshops. listening to the words of others is partly what makes the experience feel like such a sacred one. all day monday, their phrases kept running through my mind. such beauty and truth in their words. you can get to know a person you have just met by listening to their response to prompts like: "i am" "my soul says" "i know" "my mother says" "write one line about the prom"

fantastic.

i. love. poetry.

in just a bit, after i finish packing and somehow complete one more load of laundry, i will leave again. this time i am headed to artfest.

another opportunity to twirl inside friendship, joy, beauty, words, color, community.

i am blessed.
so very blessed.

today, i am sending you, yes you reading this, love, peace, and poetry.
and i invite you to go read a poem. go on. then come back here and tell me about it.
i dare you.

blessings,
liz

PS if you have sent me an email recently, sorry i have not replied. i will when i return. thanks for understanding.

a (crafty) (sacred) sunday

action

choices, 27 october 07

I have been wrestling with a decision lately. One that isn't a major life decision, but one that affects my creative journey. I had decided not to do something that I wanted to do. And, when thinking about the reasons why, I had trouble coming up with any really. Thoughts about how I didn't want to "seem." However, at different times during this past weekend, I had thoughts like, "why am I not doing this?"

In the early morning hours, I woke up with this phrase on my mind, "I feel like I am asking for too much."

Asking for too much?

What does that even mean in this context?

When it comes to wanting to get my creations out into the world…getting my creative self out there…sharing my story…is there really asking for too much?

I suppose there could be, but after this phrase popped into my mind, I started grinning. Ahhh, the old fear of not being able to ask for what I want.

I realized: I am afraid.

So I got up and acted.

This afternoon, I was at the post office mailing off some packages from The Little Room. I also had to overnight a document. As Jeff, my (sorry to all the others) favorite postal worker, was stamping the express mail documentation, we were talking about various things. Sidetracked by this, I misunderstood what he meant when he said, "Must be there before noon tomorrow." I replied with, "Why?" And he looked at me with confusion and said, "Why would you get what you want?"

I started laughing, "Oh, right, the express mail package will be there before noon tomorrow."

Yes, yes, that is what I want.

Two connected ideas:

Am I asking for too much?
Why would you get what you want?

Little whispers of truth in the midst of everyday life.
Little reminders that I know what I want.
Little reminders of my dreams, hopes, passions.

And, little reminders of the need for action.

I begin.
I act.
I continue.