Blogroll

Potato Soup Time

| Mairead

2410a

(The stained recipe page)

I’m making soup. I love making soup. I love how it tastes, how it smells and I even like looking at it. It’s potato soup (it’s always potato soup) well, there’s also thyme in it but the main ingredient is potato. I’ve been making it for about fifteen years. Well, no, I mean, I’ve been repeating the soup making procedure for the past fifteen years, not, it’s taking fifteen years to make some soup. But… also, I mean it’s taken fifteen years to make this soup.

2410c

(One of my second-hand French tea towels –  beautiful shadows! Into the soup too!)

When my little boy was in primary school sometimes I would make the potato soup early, just before driving down to collect him. When he got into the car he would know that I had made it. How? He’d smell it on my clothes!! Now I know this might not please everyone but I loved it. You see, he loved the soup and he was happy when I smelled of soup because he’d soon be having soup! And I loved that I could do something so simple and have that impact.

2410d

(Snow from 2010 – into the soup too! It started snowing in my sister’s town in Canada today – oops)

So that and everything else I’ve experienced in those fifteen years goes into the soup I’m making today. Even though I use the same (stained) recipe book (I can never keep a recipe in my head…) and stick to the same basic recipe, the soup is filled with much more than the list of ingredients. It’s filled with the stories, the lessons, the happy days, the sad days, the angry days, the embarrassing days that I’ve experienced, because all those things are part of me now and they’re here as I make the soup. They’re in my arms as I dice the onions. They’re in my hand, full of thyme –  bigger and nicer because now I grow it. There in my choice of real butter, for a time it was olive oil, before that it was coconut oil. They’re in my back as I wonder about the weight of the saucepan, because a few years ago I longed to feel what my grandmother must have felt using a giant saucepan on a solid fuel cooker to make soup for her six children.

2410e

(Love, love, love stitches, especially if they’re HUGE – into the soup too!)

The soup we’re going to have today for dinner owes its magnificence to the complete picture of the person who makes it, warts and all. Mairead.

Fearlessness in Baby Steps

| Mairead

2310f

(French window)

Ok….. so, I’m supposed to be practicing (from the dictionary: the actual application or use of an idea, belief, or method as opposed to theories about such application or use) my fearlessness this week. I was figuring that might include some standing up on a soapbox or knocking on people’s doors or listening to a lot of criticism. It turned out to be a lot simpler than that. (Thankfully.)

2310a

(French gate)

But before fearlessness there came little drops of sunshine. I have no idea who reads my words, unless they tell me. So I don’t know if the person who sent me this beautiful Ted talk about creativity read my last post. Or the person who met me for coffee…. Or the two people who gave me massages… Or the person who listened without asking me anything… Or the person who sent me a text to tell me she was doing lots more creative things since talking to me… Or the person who told me she was thinking of me… Or the person who sent me a link to hens (yes hens)… Maybe their kindness was a coincidence, but this week I got a heap of kindness. And the best bit? No one encouraged me. No one told me it was easy. No one told me to just do it. No one told me not to do it. No one pointed out that I didn’t know how to follow my dream… The silence was beautiful, thank you 🙂

2310g

(French garage doors)

And in the silence there was the first fearlessness – listening to myself. You might be surprised to learn that the one who thinks I should be doing things better… is me. Funny that. (Well, no not that funny, really.) Yep, there’s no group of protestors with banners outside my door calling TRY HARDER IN THERE! The protest is inside. This might be a good time to silence the protest inside my head.

2310e

(French church door)

And in that (at least partial) silence there was the second fearlessness. Anytime I’ve encouraged others to practice fearlessness (or any other new behaviour) I’ve known it needs to be done in baby steps. And it needs to include gentleness as you would towards a baby taking their first steps. Loudly shouting at the baby to GET UP OFF THAT FLOOR AND WALK, NOW! rarely brings success. This was a good time to practice the baby-step theory.

2310h

(French hiding door)

So, my itsy, bitsy, baby step happened quietly, gently at a small table in a pretty little coffee shop. I sat with an old friend (she’s not old, she’s… ah, you know what I mean) who definitely didn’t read my post and I haltingly (at first) began to tell her about my hopes and dreams for getting other people to connect to their creativity and to their peace… and no one died… and she understood… and then we talked about something else.

Brene Browne

(And my favourite sister sent me this photo-quote… It’s Brené Brown who is also running a creativity course… with Oprah! Creativity is very in…..)

I’m grand, how are you? Mairead.

I’m bursting to share this thing…..

| Mairead

2010a

(Lavender)

AAAAAh I was taking to someone over the weekend and they asked me what I was up to and I mentioned my Kickstart you Creativity course was starting in November. And as I mumbled and stuttered through some kind of an explanation I realised I couldn’t talk about it. I can’t talk about this thing I’m bursting to share…. It. Is. So. Frustrating. And of course my fallback for a solution to my inability to talk is to beat myself up. Today, I’m going to do something different for a few minutes, here….

2010b

(Love in the Mist)

Because I know most of you don’t live anywhere near the town on the east coast of Ireland and the west edge of Europe where I am going to run my course it makes it easier for me to tell you. I’ll write to you about my tiny little dream that I’m too afraid to speak about out loud… and I can hide behind my writing. This post is just for me (note to self: is it time to admit that this whole blog is just for you?) I don’t know what I’m going to write. Maybe by the end I’ll have a moment of acceptance or a moment of clarity or just a big meltdown. I do know I will stop at the bottom, post it and tomorrow I will write about something else.

2010c

(Mushrooms… bursting through the soil)

But today it’s about this: I’m bursting to share a thing that brings me peace and calm! But it’s too, too, too precious for me to bring it out into the light. It might get attacked by marauding bands of baddies….. Ok that sounds crazy. I know. I know it sounds crazy, but… Remember when you were little and you got this great present from your favourite uncle/aunt/mother’s best friend/rich shopkeeper? It was so great! And you wanted to show your friends, didn’t you? And you ran out to the green/road/school and you said in your little girl/boy voice “Look at this great thing Uncle John gave me!” And that moment when you stopped speaking was the happiest you were for the rest of the day because kids can be cruel and they didn’t share your enthusiasm or even your interest in your great thing or your wonderful Uncle John.

2010d

(Beauty underneath)

So you learned a clear lesson – keep the best stuff to yourself. Keep the stuff that means the most to you to yourself, hidden from the light in a safe place. Even if it means you can’t use it. Like the tiny china tea set that I got one year out of the blue from a friend of my Dad’s. It was fun sharing it with my dolls but it would have been so much more fun sharing it with my brother and my friends… but I couldn’t trust my best stuff, the things closest to my heart, with them so we all lost out. When I couldn’t share my china tea set no one got to experience how great it was – not even me. I was afraid it was going to break or my heart was going to break because they wouldn’t think it was as amazing as I did!

Aaaaaah and here I am again!

2010e

(Fence in Altamont)

When this thing began it was a tiny dream and a minuscule little thought. I wanted to uncover a process that would allow me to share what I found – peace, calm, and the fun of creation – with others. It grew when I was in France, when I went out to the garden each day and I felt myself connecting to peace as I began the process. And it worked. I started to think I could really do this. I could definitely share this process and maybe it could help other people connect to peace.

2010g

(Moss growing quietly on a rock)

Then I began to have doubts… Would it actually work? Is there a path through creativity to peace and calm in a human’s life? A sometimes difficult, challenging, even awful life? If there is would my little process find it for others? Who would want this, maybe I’m the only one who wants to connect to peace and calm? Now that I think of it, maybe getting basic physical needs met is more important. Needs like food, warmth, health, money….

2010i

(Hydrangea)

But the doubts (even if they are valid) are just a smokescreen… they are hiding my fear and my sadness. And I can’t blame the children who taught me the lesson. I can’t blame their parents. I have no one left to blame but myself… and that isn’t working too good…. so I’m going back to my precious things. The precious things, the china tea set or my course are so connected that I may be able to free one with the help of the other.

2010h

(Butterfly and Lavender)

I don’t need encouragement, I have lots of encouragement, I have to step out on this ledge on my own….

I don’t need anyone to tell me you big eejit just do it! I am telling myself that all the time…. and it isn’t working.

I don’t need anyone to tell me it’s easy…

I don’t need anyone to point out that I have been encouraging others to follow their dream and I can’t even do it myself… I know.

I don’t need encouragement not to do it…… I am bursting out of my skin to do this… and I am scared shirtless.

And that reminds me, I read a quote this morning: Fearlessly accept the reality; then fearlessly set about transforming what needs to change. — Elena Brower.

So while I’m revving up my fearlessness, maybe you could share your precious thing? Mairead.

Old woman, Old man, Woods – Story

| Mairead

1710d

(Patterns… cabbage)

I was watching an art video on YouTube today and it reminded me (long story) that sometimes what other people hear in their heads isn’t what we thought we said. Many years ago I attended a course where one of the things we learned was how to listen to what was being said underneath the words that were being spoken. Anyway, I’m not sure I can explain it a few sentences (or maybe in many) and I’m not sure you want to read it so here’s a compromise, a short story….

1710a

(Patterns… Giants Causeway)

So… once upon a time there was an old woman. She lived in the woods, in a little stone cottage. She had been hurt in love when she was very young and went to live alone in the forest to make sure she didn’t get hurt again. She lived very simply and mostly she was content. Just sometimes she would have loved to have some company. Especially in the evening by the fire as she thought about her day or her week or her life in general.

1710b

(Patterns… garden seat)

Also at this once upon a time, time there was an old man who lived in the same forest, but a good distance away. He was a carpenter and loved being a carpenter and when he got older he saw no reason to stop being a carpenter so he continued to make things from wood in his workshop, in the shed. He had been happily married for years but three years ago his wife died. He missed her and talked to her most days as he worked.

1710c

(Patterns…  Altamont Gardens near Bunclody)

One day the old woman was going for a walk in the woods, she had a lot on her mind, took a wrong turn and ended up outside the old man’s workshop. It was a moment before she realised there was someone in the shed and the old man didn’t see her at all. So she remained silent and watched as he worked. And she thought, He must have been hurt too, poor man, he looks so sad. As if he heard her the old man suddenly looked up and said, Hello there, lovely day, isn’t it? Before she could reply, the old woman thought, Poor fellow, he’s trying to put a brave face on it, I’ll try to cheer him up.

1710f

(Patterns… Christmas snow and clothes pegs in Leeds)

Anyway, they got into conversation (as you do in these situations) and chatted away for about twenty minutes until (as happens in these situations) one or other of them made a move to carry on with their day. As the old woman walked back to her cottage, she thought, That poor man, it’s so sad. And back at the workshop the old man was telling his dead wife all about the lovely cheerful woman he had just met.

1710e

(Patterns… cobblestones in Hungary)

Sometimes I think we hear only what we know must be true, Mairead.

 

Heavy Rain brings Cheerful Scones

| Mairead

1610a

(22 raindrops (or thereabouts) in a row… )

It was a very dark morning full of heavy rain when I woke up. So I lay there listening to the sound of water hitting the window, the roof and the cat. It was surprisingly pleasant (well not the cat bit but he stopped being unpleasant when I let him in.) My memory might be faulty but I think we haven’t had very many heavy rain storms this year. I was enjoyed this one.

1610b

(This flowering shrub has been cheering me all through the summer, looks like it’s happy continuing into the autumn)

It got me thinking about all the things I connect with heavy rain (I mean the nice things I connect with heavy rain.) Being in bed, nice and warm. Staying home, warm and dry. Darkness in the daytime reminding me of the tunnel of trees. Scones and butter. Raindrop sounds. Comfortable shoes. Scones. It was the scones that finally got me out of bed but I completely forgot about them.

1610c

(Pretty edges on the leaves)

By lunchtime it was still dark and raining and I was starting to feel tired and I don’t mind telling you, a bit grumpy. I was talking to myself in a less than kind or helpful way. Like I thought that would encourage me… I worked on my art journal and even began the process of painting one of my tea towels (it takes a few days.) But yet I continued to feel a bit heavy and very slow and not very accepting of this state.

1610g

(More raindrops)

Then I remembered the scones and I was all excited again. Unfortunately, I was in the middle of eating the last egg in the fridge at the time… Still… it is possible to make scones without eggs, which reminds me of the other nice thing about heavy rain – hens.

Heavy rain produces worms and sometimes scones, Mairead.

Attention! Losing, Seeking and Paying.

| Mairead

1510a

(The tea shop in France…)

I was in a coffee shop yesterday with Denis. It was a new one so I was spending some time looking around at the decor, which I liked. Followed by some time looking around at the clientele, which was fun. Then our hot drinks arrived and we chatted until some more people sat down beside us. And you know how sometimes other people’s conversation is much more interesting than anything you think your husband/partner/friend might be going to say? So you stop listening to them and start listening to the other people?

1510b

( where the sugar cubes were little hearts…)

Of course, I tend to maintain an air of listening to my companion in these situations, just in case the other people realise I am listening to them and lower their voices. I cannot risk the chance of them lowering their voices because I already have to strain to overhear adjacent conversations… While maintaining this air of listening, I also aim my gaze into the distance. This seems to help my hearing but also indicates to my husband that I am indeed not listening to him and he can and in fact should lower his voice.

1510c

( and the cake came in two slices… per person!)

Unfortunately, for some reason though the couple I had my eye/ear on were not very clear in their communication. Well to be precise they did seem to be making sense to each other but not to me. I was tempted to lean in closer but that rarely, in my experience of listening to adjacent conversations, helps. So I didn’t lean in and it was at that moment that my far away gaze fell on another group. I had spotted them earlier. An older couple (actually not that much older than myself…) with a little girl of maybe two years old. Grandparents.

1510d

( and where we tested the egg timer to make sure it really was three minutes)

I had noticed them earlier because manoeuvring themselves, the little girl, the buggy, the seats and the table seemed to take up all of their attention. Now I was noticing them for a different reason. The little girl was looking up into her granddad’s face concentrating completely on his every word or movement or… I don’t really know what was holding her attention but it was complete and it was adorable.

So I went back to paying attention to the one I was with… Mairead.

The Apron of Focus.

| Mairead

1410a

(My ceramic apron)

It’s been a really beautiful day here today in Greystones – sunshine, blue shies and little fluffy clouds. I’m still working on my wall painting, but I sense there’s a strong possibility it won’t in fact take five months to complete. I seem focused in a way that has not been my experience in the past. I think my creativity work is effecting even this little project.

1410c

(Paper aprons)

When I started my art, craft and design course last year one of the tools we had to supply was an apron. Fair enough, I had lots of aprons for cooking so I used one of them. But although I had lots of aprons to use while cooking I didn’t. I mean, I didn’t use them while cooking. Don’t know why. So I was surprised by how much fun it was to wear them for crafting. Yep – fun. I know – weird.

1410b

(Painted crepe paper apron)

Then when we went to France I brought along my favourite apron (you do have a favourite apron, don’t you?) It was natural, crafting was now connected to wearing an apron. Over there putting my apron on seemed to draw me towards the trestle table and work (by work I mean play… with direction!) In the afternoons I kept the apron on for writing the blog post.

1410d

(Apron Strings)

Now I think there was a connection between wearing an apron and getting things done. Wearing an apron became an anchor (a strong response to an external trigger) to focussed creative work. And the anchor is still working. Because… the wall painting (I’ve been wearing an apron again and also painting-clothes – wall painting is extremely splatter-y) is definitely getting done.

 1410e

(And a fuzzy picture of my other ceramic apron)

It was only as I searched for pictures for this blog post that I remembered all the ways aprons inspired my crafting in the past year. I’ve been making aprons in one form or another all this time not realising they were also making me 🙂

I like that, Mairead.

Sunday Walking

| Mairead

1310b

(The one picture in Marley Park)

We are continuing our new tradition of a Sunday walk and today we went back to Marley Park. We didn’t bring the camera…. we’re a bit lazy and anyway we both had cameras in our phones. Funny though – they only work if you charge them! Both, yes both ran out of power as we were walking. So there’s only one photo.

1310a

(Painting on paper)

We parked in the car park closest to the motorway, which means for the first ten minutes the noise is distracting but then you start to hear the stream and children playing and the ducks on the lake. It’s a lovely place. We had brought a picnic and some cold brew coffee but when we arrived at the picnic spot there was an organic fair. Inside a big tent there was a cookery demonstration and outside lots of stalls, including a very enthusiastic organic veg man. He had cut up some of his apples for tasting and they were amazing. Denis described them as being “like the ones we used to rob as kids!” I don’t like to mention this law-breaking side of his personality but it does evoke memories of a simpler time. I , of course, did not steal other people’s apples but I think I remember hearing about people who did…..

1310d

(It’s red!)

There was a long queue for the coffee stall and if we’d had a few extra mugs we might have stood a chance of setting up our own stall. I can get quite enthusiastic myself about the cold brew. But we didn’t. When we got home I started on a job I’ve been putting off for about five months. Painting a wall. While I like putting paint on paper or maybe even on canvas, a wall is big. So, it took me until today to start. The other thing about a wall? You can’t finish it in one afternoon. It may take five months…

1310e

(Too red?)

Take your camera when you go for a walk, Mairead!

The Incredible Hulk IS Scary

| Mairead

1010c

(Nice calming water picture… Vouvant)

Soooo there I was driving down to the supermarket. (By the way the Eat the Fridge thing is going great! – go to shop only once a week even if it seems there’s nothing left in the fridge… find creative ways to feed yourself from the nothing!) The lights were green on the t-junction so I proceeded behind the traffic, while wondering if maybe there should be a yellow box (road safety education: “don’t drive onto a yellow box unless the way ahead is clear.”) The traffic in front stopped because the lights ahead of them were red…. and I was in the space between one set of lights and the next.

1010b

(…. ommmmm… Green Venice)

Hasn’t everyone been there? The space where all seems fine, all us cars are having a fine time driving along and then it goes a bit quiet and it turns out you are the only one in the space where the traffic from the side road will need to be and you are in the way. It’s a lonely space.

1010a

(sigh… Green Venice)

So now I was… stuck and mortified. And the cars in front were also stuck or I might have inched forward to hide out-of-the-way. Slowly, very slowly the lights changed for the side road. And you know the bit in the Incredible Hulk, where something bad happens and you just know the Hulk is going to start loosing his clothes and turning green? Well, unfortunately for me something bad must have happened to the man in the car coming from the side road because he drove his car in a very Incredible Hulk way while gesticulating wildly… a lot.. at me.

1010e

(… just little ripples… Vouvant)

You know how, You know it’s gonna be fine and you know he’s not going to get out of his car and you know he’s probably not that much bigger than you and you know he’s definitely not green? And yet… and yet I was afraid. You know how horrible that is? No? It’s horrible.

1010f

(…peaceful… Vouvant)

So I just wanted to say if I do something really silly and it blocks your way for a few moments anytime in the future, could you please not lose your temper? Or if you do could you please not gesticulate wildly in my direction… a lot… like the Incredible Hulk? I’ll be driving any car and look exactly like the person driving any car that slows you down 🙂

Thanks from a slightly disturbed, Mairead.