"we lose ourselves in the things we love. we find ourselves there, too." - kristin martz
i love it when a quote comes my way that speaks with a strong but quiet voice. every day i'm sent a little message of encouragement from values.com; sometimes they grab me, sometimes they speak and then are absentmindedly forgotten, but they are always sound, and sage. last week, the one that spoke loudest to me was this:
"let yourself be silently drawn by the strange pull of what you really love. it will not lead you astray". - rumi
angel casting by artist lynn davis; necklace emerged from the studio and startled me with its composition: antique mother of pearl buttons, a chunky baroque pearl, antique piano key ivory, antique text, old rosary mother of pearl, luminescent antique mother of pearl oval beads unearthed in wisconsin years ago
the studio continues to pull, and i am happy with this sensation. what a joy it is to create, to work very happily at what i do. my schedule has been a wild ride these past few weeks, with family and friends visiting, with a trip to alabama; work was put aside for a spell, resumed at a heightened pace, and now i'm off to wisconsin and beloved valley ridge art studio once again to teach two back-to-back workshops, six straight days of standing in the teacher's role. it's been nearly a year since i was last in that position, and i'm a little nervous about jumping back in. i hope i will not disappoint. i already know that my students will amaze me with their capabilities, with their own sense of creativity. bit by bit, i'll feel my way in these days before the workshop begins, i'll sort myself out and step into my instructor shoes. the shoes are red. my heart is still there, on my sleeve. let the lessons begin, for them and for me. in between the hours of sitting at my studio table, summoning ornamental pieces from some deep and ethereal place in my soul, i find quiet pockets of reflection, of deepest gratitude for the gifts and blessings that life has bestowed upon me. things will be quiet here at Ornamental for just a bit, but you know i'll be back as soon as i can.
things that have given me quiet and simple pleasure this week:
listening to william faulkner's Light in August on cd while working in the studio. beautifully and perfectly narrated by actor will patton (who also narrated charles frazier's Thirteen Moons that i listened to in april; thank you, fontana library!), it is an exquisite gift to have these words wash over and through me as i sit and tinker at the studio table. i studied faulkner as a college freshman for an entire semester (well, a quarter back then), and had not until now gone back to his words since then. hello, mr. faulkner. your work leaves me speechless when trying to describe the rhythm and cadence of your writing, the beauty of your incredibly wrought choice of words.
visiting with my beloved friend julie, who is down for a few days from ohio before she leaves to carry walter home with her while i am away. laughter, the sharing of stories, early evenings out on the deck with a little fire, walks out back on the trail through the woods as lightning bugs begin to appear, coffee out on the screened porch in the early mornings: good medicine. and walter unabashedly adores her, as well.
walter, walter, walter.