Show Time

November 1, 2013November 1, 2013 | Mairead

03 9a

(This is me crafting last year in Canada)

It’s that time again – Knitting and Stitching Show time! I’m very excited. Tomorrow I will be in a big room with thousands of noisy people milling around and getting in my way. Oh, ok that’s not the bit I’m excited about. I’m excited about the bit with the beautiful art and crafts hanging on the walls. And the experts doing demonstration of things I could potentially do. And the classes where you make nice things with a helpful teacher. And I’m very excited about the all the craft supplies you could want in one place.

08 10b

(And in Greystones)

I’ve been going to this show with my mother-in-law (hello Eilish!) for a few years now and we really enjoy ourselves. When we get home we lay out the results of any classes we’ve done, along with our purchases for Denis to admire. And he does a pretty good job of pretending he’s interested. In my pile there’s usually a few books, the kind that inspire you to try something new. So over the years I have a large collection of inspiring craft books. They are beautiful and when I bought them I was very inspired.

12 11c

(And again)

But there’s a problem… I never actually made anything.

Well that’s not entirely true, I started to make lots of things. But when they weren’t that good, I stopped. It’s better to stop and try something else, right? So I tried the next thing and the next thing but I was always unsatisfied with the outcome. And after a few weeks I stopped setting time aside to make… anything. I ignored the inspiration from the beautiful books and went back to filling my time with should do and have to do stuff.

3110a

(And again…. this past year has been a craft heaven)

This year it’s different! Not the buying the books bit – I’m still buying the books. The difference is I use the books and I set aside time to make the things I am inspired to make. And I let go of getting it right first time… or even second time… or… well, I just keep practicing.

Vincent Van Gogh sold only one painting in his lifetime but he kept painting. Mairead.

Cooking up a movie… kinda

October 31, 2013October 30, 2013 | Mairead

3010a

(Food pictures from Italy are very inspiring so here’s some Italian pizza…)

The daughter is home for the week and we’re doing a little project I should have done many years ago – passing on the recipes. It’s where your mother shares the recipes all the things you loved to eat as a child. But we never did it. Partly because I’m a reluctant cook – don’t like it. And partly because of something I’m only now becoming aware of – I’m a bit of a control freak in the kitchen. As in, I think I know it all, I think I’m the only one who can cook properly. Oops.

3010b

(and Italian dessert…)

Now that might be why I’m a reluctant cook – I got tired of doing it on my own. Of course all that changed last year when I was attending the art course and I started to share the kitchen with the other food-eaters. But the daughter wasn’t here for that momentous happening, so I’m sharing the kitchen all over again with her.

3010e

(and Italian breakfast)

But she likes a bit of drama and she likes to film things so… she’s filming my sharing. You know how easy it looks on the television, some famous chef shows you how she made such and such a dish? Anyone could do it, right? Ha! No. Turns out it’s not that easy. But it is funny. Not at the time but when we look at the rushes (that’s technical for the unedited shooting) it’s hilarious… and not necessarily in a good way.

3010c

(Seen through a shop window in Venice, Italian paint pigments)

Well, maybe it is in a good way. Like today when I opened the parmesan as it was going into the dish and noticed it was turning an unhealthy shade of green. I looked at the daughter and she raised an eyebrow as I thought about blue cheese and nonchalantly picked out the worst of the green before deciding, not ok. But all the laughter seems to be helping the flavour and we are incredible nice to each other on camera. (Hmmm, interesting, that.) Maybe we’ll have a family recipe movie to pass on to future generations.

If either of us are brave enough to share it. Mairead.

Quiet – the book…

October 30, 2013October 30, 2013 | Mairead

2910c

(Solitude)

I’m reading a really interesting book at the moment. It’s called Quiet by Susan Cain. There’s also a TED talk. She writes about extroverts and introverts and thinks the extrovert personality type has an unfair advantage. The extrovert is seen as the ideal type, which can mean those of us who favour the introvert way of being can seem odd. Cain suggests the world needs introverts to be introverts. Although the words introvert and extrovert are not new to me, it is new to hear that it’s perfectly acceptable, in fact necessary (for an introvert) to be an introvert. No one told me.

2910b

(Old weather-beaten wall)

Cain explains that extroverts are energised when they’re with large groups of people – they love parties, they dislike solitude. Wait a minute… they love parties? And they refuel their energy when surrounded by lots of people. I didn’t know that was even a possibility. While introverts prefer solitude and get energised in nature or alone and they like to chat with one person at a time. Turns out the introverts often push themselves to be more extrovert so that they can fit in or get things done….. like give dinner parties or talk to a committee or whatever. But it is a very tiring activity for introverts to behave in an extroverted way and they need to refuel with space and solitude.

2910a

(Old wood)

I used to be very shy as a child and I remember when I went to college at seventeen making a decision, from that day forward I would be outgoing. It was easy, no one knew me from my previous school and I was good at pretending. So I watched outgoing people and copied them. I enjoyed it and since there were only four girls in a class of eighty I got a lot of attention! I was rewarded well for my efforts, but it was very tiring. I often used to wonder why I didn’t like parties, I thought there was something wrong with me.

2910e

(Old hearts)

It’s okay to love solitude. Mairead.

Potato Soup Time

October 25, 2013October 24, 2013 | 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

October 24, 2013October 24, 2013 | 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…..

October 21, 2013October 20, 2013 | 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

October 17, 2013October 17, 2013 | 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

October 16, 2013October 16, 2013 | 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.

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