A whisper is all I have

Today's post is whispered. To speak at all is a little too much, but I can just whisper.

Spring. It takes me like this sometimes. I go running into the sun, arms out, clothes off, singing and laughing... too much. Too sudden. My heart has been sheltered in her winter cloak of darkness and huddled safety for so long. This sharp exposure is a shock. My feet burn with each retreating footstep.

I tried to speak to you days ago. I sat for a long time. I typed a little. Every word boomed. Too loud. I wept. I stopped. I yearned for bed, to hide alone with a book for some hours. But it was teatime for my girl so we cuddled and swayed to Jeff Buckley until our Ent had made our food, then we read books and hung out until it was time for robot pajamas and milk and bed.

And the next day Ent worked in the morning. I could hibernate in the afternoon. But no. He had been up much of the night and needed, more than me, to be in his bed. Okay, I said. It's tough being a mum sometimes. Ickle Pickle and I were as gentle with each other as we know how, but she is so small. She needs laughter and bouncing and games and that electronic toy guitar I bought her in a truly selfless moment. She needs me to be out; open; full. I was emptying fast...

And then...Family Day. You may know this as Sunday. And I was posted back to bed, to forget 'together time', housework, planned outings; to rest, write, recoup my soul.

I scribbled in my journal for a while, until even that felt like work, then I read all of my bookclub book. More of that soon, but not now. I read for hour upon hour. I haven't read for that long for over a year and I had forgotten how it is to inhabit a written world without one ear open for a m'aidez. It was after 1:00 when I got up again, full of gratitude for my Ent and my life.

That would have been enough. I could have gone on strong from there. But the day after that was my birthday, so another day of revitalising non-work was spent with my little family. I was given splendid things, the best of which being an impressive holder for my harmonica (with room for a future second harmonica) commissioned by my Ent and made from Devon leather by our inspiring friend Tom Hirons. 

We spent the day by the soul-quenching sea on a forever beach just for us. Tourists crammed far away where they could see their cars and our half mile tramp/slide over immense sand dunes was richly rewarded. I danced in the sea, watched Ickle Pickle play with shells in a mob cap and lounged about in a thoroughly enjoyable manner. The sun, that tempter, blazed down, but I held true and moved slow.

So today I am a little sunburned, but I have an ocean memory to carry me when the impulse to run ahead of myself seizes me. Steps, is the way. Maybe skipping steps. And when it is really, really summer; then I can run across the green as far as the moor will take me, keeping step with myself all the while.

I have done this before; this rush and retreat. I guess I will do it again. But I am learning how to be still when I need to. I am learning that some days it is best to whisper.

Do you know this? Do you have whispering days too?

Happiness Week :o).

As advertised, Happiness Week is now upon us (yay!) as Action for Happiness launch their nationwide (British) campaign to increase cheer and contentment. For those of you who live elsewhere, all of their ideas and research can be applied anywhere, so please still check out their website.

Each time I blog this week I shall endeavour to bring happiness to you all. 

Thinking about how I might do that, I have come to realise that I am always, in part, doing just that already. This is a way for me to have a voice in the wider world and it's important to me that my input is positive. Sometimes I discuss what's not working or what I'm struggling with (see Love in the Snow and The story of an imperfect artwork), but my hope is that in sharing the trickier parts of my journey, I can support and encourage you when you come to a stonier path. Even if you're not a writer, artist, mother or animist, we're all capable of drawing analogies and learning from each other. Why reinvent the wheel every time?

For happiness in sound form, here's a beautiful link from Thomas Hine of A Basket of Leaves, a truly fantastic blog in every sense.

Just now, as I was eating my lunch, I found a story that brought me happiness in the way I was just talking about. And the strangest thing is that I found it in the Daily Mail's online paper! Now, I don't read the Daily Mail because I get angry. If you're British, you'll get the gist of my politics from that. If you're from elsewhere (please send sun), you'll know of an equivalent in your country which is generally avoided by open-minded, inclusive folk. Either way, do watch this.

So here I have discovered a story of love, courage and wisdom where I expect to find the opposite of all those things. Read it for yourself here. 

With little time to spare before my working day is over, I have finished my current artwork:

Gazanias

Brush Pen Mosaic on Canvas

5" x 7"

Thank you to those who left helpful comments on  The Spice of Life. The existence of gazanias is a source of happiness for me, as is this mosaic, even though too much light came through the canvas on the scanner. Still working on my technological prowess...

I'll leave you with a story which genuinely made me cry with laughter. Thanks to Terri Windling because I found it on her multi-faceted blog. If you click one link today, make it this one.

What makes you happy? Would you share it with us? Tell us about it in the comments, or email me direct with a link and I'll include it (credited to you, of course) during the week.

The Spice of Life

 Gazanias - 'Treasure Flowers' in progress

Brush pen mosaic on canvas

5" x 7"

Something different again. I'm still calling this a mosaic, although the tessellating technique has been very different with this piece.


I'm so pleased I've discovered Gazanias. They totally deserve the name 'treasure flowers'. All the colours and combinations I've used are true to life, and there are more I haven't used. I've stylised the form, but the variety is accurate, too. Some have pointed petals, some rounded; petals can have four or five colours in them or just one and that bizarre blue and purple example in the bottom left corner is another fantastic variation.


There's still work to do. I'm undecided about leaving white space on this one. I'm tempted to keep layering blooms behind until I've filled the canvas. What do you think? The leaves are a fascinating silver which I don't feel would work well here.


100 Stories for Queensland, including my short story, Cake, will be released worldwide on May 3rd. I was very pleased to discover that my name is on the front cover. Click this and look down the left. There I am!

Like the Gazanias, this anthology promises to be a richly diverse collection of uplifting stories from all over the globe.

And I'm pleased to announce that, in my spare time (mums, try not to wee when you laugh), I have become a Bookworm Babe. My fab friend Maria has set up a 'little' (so we thought until we had to close membership and establish a waiting list!) book club. We're in our third month, but we've only just been named and made official through the library. We're a very eclectic bunch with rather conflicting tastes in reading matter, but that's just what I want from a book club - motivation to read what I would normally pass over.

This month we're reading The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society (catchy!) by  Mary Ann Shaffer and I'd love it if you wanted to read along with us and let me know what you think. You've got until May 2nd to finish it.

[Edit: It turns out The Bookworm Babes are at the back of a 50-book club queue for The Guernsey business, so this month we are actually reading Cassandra's Disk by Angela Green and the word on the street is to not be put off by the cover!]

And finally, if you've ever felt you've made a fool of yourself or looked ridiculous in some way, this will reassure you you are not alone.

Vive la difference!

Illusory Reality and Breasts

Ocean Sunset

Brush Pen Mosaic

So, I've completed the second mosaic in my planned collection of twenty.  I need to do one a week to have them all ready for exhibition in September - and that's without creating cards/postcards or promoting it at all. Keep breathing, Lunar, it's all possible.

Having much enjoyed the process of creating this and sustained a 'this is working' feeling throughout, when it was actually finished, I felt disappointed. I'd worked from a photo of an actual sunset and stayed true to the colours there, but they seemed so unlikely on the canvas.

Fortunately, overnight some helpful hinky punk  (that's a Devonian pixie) had either improved the mosaic or gentled my eyes. I suspect the latter. Stepping into my bedroom to see if it was time to give a 'big banana smile' to my girl, I saw it from a greater distance; took it in as a whole, and my first thought was, yes - that is JUST how a sunset can look.

And, maybe more importantly, I liked it. Maybe it won't look 'real' to you, or you wouldn't choose to have it in your home, but I like it and that's my criterion for claiming an artwork as a success. For now at least.

And finally, you may know I'm training to be a Breastfeeding Peer Supporter with Barnardo's. At the last class, we were asked to mention it in conversation and see what reactions people have. The theory is that every time breastfeeding is mentioned, it is normalised a little, making it easier for women to do /speak about in public.

So would you please let me know how you feel about breastfeeding itself, seeing others do it, talking about it, etc? Thank you very much.

Edit: I would love to hear from men, women who haven't had a child or haven't breastfed and people who are less than easy about other folk breastfeeding in public as well as breastfeeding enthusiasts. If that doesn't cover you, I'd like to hear what you think too! Thanks. And anonymous comments are fine by me.

The Elastic Limits of Spring

Spring has sprung with an energy which startled me at first, until I recalled how startled I am every year as I thaw and stumble into the sunlight.

My daughter's newest word is 'daffodil'. Well, okay, 'dadill', but hearing her call it out as we buggy past each stand of daffs is a heart-burster nonetheless.

Dadills from our woods

And we are joining the chorus of openings and beginnings and letting daring tendrils feel their way into the world.

My entish husband, Thomas Hine, is working on a new art commission for an intriguing book collecting historical and contemporary postcards depicting The Cornish Litany, and he has just been asked to write a guest essay for a folklore blog. 

You can explore his art and writing in the fantastical world contained within A Basket of Leaves and learn everything you might want to know about Westcountry Folklore.

If you were with me for Small Wonders and The story of an imperfect artwork, then you'll be expecting the next piece in my Patterns collection around now - the 'new first' one. As is often the case, the process of completing a prototype germinated many variations on the original theme. So this new piece is more of a scene and less abstract:

Tree in Sunny Field 

Brush Pen Mosaic

I've begun thinking of these as mosaics rather than simply patterns. My new artist brush pens create lovely lines, making each 'piece' feel more solid and distinct. The logistics of placing each piece so future pieces can fit are similar to those of mosaics, although without the advantage of being able to pick them all up again if it doesn't quite work. I'm developing techniques to deal with this all the time, but a lot of it is just being able to visualise where they're going to go - and then remember what I pictured.

This week I started training in quite a new field - as a Breastfeeding Peer Supporter with Barnardo's. I was a bit anxious I'd be expected to be an evangelical lactivist, (LOVING that word) but that's not the case. It's just about information, support, having time for someone at a phase in their life when they may have little time for themselves. Not quite sure where I'll squeeze this time from, but committed to doing it anyway.

To find out about talking with a peer supporter, or becoming one (no cost to you in either case), phone Barnardo's on 0117 978 2441.

And I have also just accepted a commission to write a children's story for our local preschool. I haven't tried writing for children before, but I read several kids' books every day (and several times each!), so I feel like I've been researching for the past year :o).

A few words from me, about dreaming, are kindly included in To Sleep, To Dream, on the blog of Claire de la Luz. Thank you Claire.

Spring blessings on you all. If you haven't sent me anything for Happiness Week yet, now is the time.
And do please share your new ventures too.

The story of an imperfect artwork

The other day I was talking to an artist friend about what we do when a piece just doesn't work as we'd planned. Sometimes the deviation from our vision is a wonderful surprise, but here I'm going to talk about those times when the surprise is less than wonderful.

If you've been following this blog, you'll have seen a couple of progress reports on the first of my new Pattern collection for my upcoming exhibition. You'll know how excited I have been to let go of 'what I should be doing' and allow myself to diddle about with felt tip pens doing entirely abstract patterns on tiny canvasses.

Prototype Stage One

I very much enjoyed creating this pattern, and in that sense it has been a success. But, as warned by some of you, the colours have already faded. You can see the beginnings of it here, particularly in the pinks. At this stage 'Pattern One' (of twenty, gulp!) was retitled 'Prototype'. Obviously a fading piece would not be good enough to exhibit or sell.

Prototype Stage Two

At this stage it may have been prudent to stop work, but I know from experience that the trickinesses experienced at the beginning of a piece are often different to those encountered at the end, so I continued in the spirit of experimentation. 

I relearned some of what I used to know about felt tips: how individual pens need different pressures and angles to get the same result; how the colours can bleed and mix; how the texture of the surface influences the final appearance. And a lot of that I can make use of when I begin the real Pattern One with my lovely Faber Castell Artist Brush Pens which will NOT fade :o).

Prototype Stage Three

By Stage Three you can clearly see the fading. Compare the blues. And the red (below) has disappeared! But also I could see how much I liked the idea; I was buzzing with multiple variation possibilities as I coloured and that alone makes this exercise worth the time and squinting.

Finished Prototype

So, did I create art good enough to exhibit? No.

Was it what I wanted? Not entirely, no.

Has it been a necessary stage in creating fabulous, quality works I can sell? Very possibly.

A final thought: After I'd finished this and lined up all my progress shots, I started wondering about the lovely shapes more obvious in the incomplete canvasses. So, not only has the process taught me a lot about how to create the finished piece I want; I also realise I need to reassess when each piece is finished and that photographing my work is a useful way of getting that perspective.

Do you make prototypes of new forms?

And how is it when you're less than thrilled with your work?

Small Wonders

Some wonders for you today.

The first is me in print. Amen to that! You can now buy Pay Attention: a river of stones from Lulu for £6.99. It contains 320 small stone poems and some prose words by the editors and other stoners. (Really have to get over myself about that word. I'm 32!)

Also, if you want a long list of reasons to be proud of your fellow humans (and, let's face it, that's not always so easy), watch this. 

And an update on my latest art thing (picture? piece? It's not a painting because I'm not using paints):

Pattern One mid-flow

I've got until September to get my exhibition together, which seems a long time, but my art time is limited and I want to create about twenty. Watch this space...

And if you're inspired by any of the above, do send me your contribution to Happiness Week. Thank you.