The field of wishes...

So I was all geared up to get back in the studio, but somehow I have not done a thing in a month! A whole month and I have not even stepped foot in the room - how does this happen? Well so easily it seems. I go through periods of strong forward steps, where the images I feel come out so clearly on the paper and I am at work and at my best, but then there is this other side that comes over me like a black, energy sucking cloud and I can't do anymore than cope with a day. These are the times that I most certainly need my creative gang that started at the beginning of last year. We meet every other Thursday to talk about our work over the last 2 weeks and then set ourselves goals for the next session. It is a simple format and for this reason I think it is successful. The group is diverse enough for interest, but similar enough for connection and they are the most understanding of people who can take you to task in a gentle way over cake and coffee. They will point out that actually yes, you really do need to just get off your butt and do something, ANYTHING and the magic will begin to happen again. We talked about rituals a little this week and I realized how important they were for me to step over the threshold of my studio and to make me feel more serious in what i was doing. I realized that my rituals were to put on my paint stained apron, set my computer to a radio show I like to listen to and to light this incredibly expensive candle that I bought by accident, but that does actually smell delicious. These are acts that make me commit to the room, not the washing up, the phone, the hoovering, but to the room and the space where I am so happy that it feels like nonsense that I need any coaxing to get in there. So that is what happened, I did my rituals, I tidied the space because it was most necessary and hoping above hope that I can fake the cloud away in order to just keep on taking more small steps to finding my way.

Inspired by a field of whole rounds of dandelions i rushed home to get my camera only to find a few gusts of wind had taken many wishes already into the sky, but it had planted the seeds enough for me to work on my next picture. Here is the beginnings of my work in progress.

Just a Little Visit

A little poem I wrote last year after visiting mum. Since last year Mum fell ill and was in hospital for 7 months. Rather miraculously she came out of hospital and is currently staying in a care home in Eastbourne. She is very well cared for and my sister visits as much as she can. During my visit this year I was better prepared and pleasantly surprised that Mum could recognize me at times before the mist descended back over her and we lost her to periods of silence. My daughter worked wonders too, singing songs to her Nanny that Nanny would remember - Baa, baa Black sheep and twinkle, twinkle would bring smiles, claps and connection. As sad as the situation is for everyone I class this as a good visit. Mum is very thin, very tired and very lost right now. The home staff are worried about her health as are we all, but to hear my Mum suddenly perk up and say "I know that laugh" from across the room and to look right into my eyes and say in the Mum voice I know "Hello You!" will forever stay with me. I do not know how this journey is going to go right now - I don't think we ever do - nothing is as tidy as the films and tv shows pretend, but at the moment we just take the days as they come.


A lady
takes a seat
near me
what a
chatty thing.
I wonder what
she wants
from me?
Just to talk
it seems.
My, my
a lot of questions
the young ones
have these days.
Such urgency
and nervousness,
emotional
so strange.
What’s that dear?
I must not
have heard,
pictures
little ones.
What dear
little people,
her people
I presume.
How sweet
she is to visit,
a lady
stuck
at home.
Funny
she keeps
saying,
saying
that word
Mum.

C.Storie 2015