Squam Art Workshops :: On Roles
During high school and college, my Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays were always spent at the same place: Honeybaked Ham. If you're not familiar with HH, it is (or at least was back in the day) the go-to spot for holiday hams. Our local store always had lines wrapping around the block in November and December, so my friends and I had a reliable source for extra cash during breaks from school. I worked at HH for many years, and during that time I had every possible job available in the store. I eventually reached the coveted spot of bookkeeper, but only after climbing up the ranks from my first position as "ham pusher", which involved bundling up and working in the refrigerator pushing hams up to the front of the shelves that opened up to the retail counter. I worked the deli counter, arranged party trays, re-stocked sauces, wrapped hams, and took phone orders. If HH had merit badges, I'd have walked away with a sash full of them.
I am beginning to feel the same way about Squam Art Workshops (SAW). I have been at all three events and at each have played a variety of different roles. I have been a student and a guest speaker, sold my wares at vendor night and taught. I've volunteered, moderated a panel discussion, made signs, written up name tags, hauled boxes, and assisted with check-in. I am committed to SAW, I believe in SAW, and once I make up my mind to give my energy to something, I go all out, which explains why, after all three events, I've returned home wanting to do nothing more than sleep for a week.
Over the past week or so since I've been back home, I have been thinking a lot about my role at SAW, and feel fortunate to have so many different experiences to look to for guidance on what I really want to do there. On the one hand, it is part of my nature to try to take on as much as I can, and this September's event was no exception. And I don't regret going for it the way I did, even though at the end of it I was running on fumes. Because although I was physically and mentally drained, I was emotionally full, my only unfulfilled desire being a wish for more time – for stillness, for meeting new people, for walks in the woods.
I am now taking an inventory of everything I've done at SAW and challenging myself to take on less at next year's events. Not because I don't want to give SAW my all, but because I recognize that 99% of my energy is sent outward when I am there, and I would like to bring that down a notch. I went to this September's events with a number of different intentions and goals, and I am happy to say most of them were fulfilled. I am proud of this, but also see that it is time for me to start playing with the idea of fewer goals and an intention of greater balance. I don't yet know what that will look like, but when I think about my role at SAW next year, this is what is on my mind.
It is hard in a situation like SAW not to want to do it all, take in as much as possible and feel like there is a herculean standard that must be lived up to in order to make the experience worthwhile. The experience of SAW has been built up like nothing I've ever seen thanks to all the gushing blog posts – which SAW deserves, absolutely – and I think it can be hard to go into it without certain expectations. I think it is also easy to see what one wants to see when there, and entirely possible for pre-conceived notions to shape the way the weekend unfolds for each of us (more on this tomorrow).
All that said, my goal now is to let go of trying to do it all and make choices. I need to choose what to let go of, what to say no to, and what to invite into my SAW experiences. It is not possible to sculpt what I want into a perfectly finished idea that I can carry in my suitcase; whatever plans I make or intentions I set will be thrown off kilter by one thing or another. That is the nature of anything in life – I plan, things change, I adapt. And then, before I know it, whatever imaginings I've held in my heart for months will play themselves out (or not) and then it will be over, and I'll be back home again to dream a new dream, and start planning for the next gathering.
>>>>>WEDNESDAY GIVE AWAY: Free Stationery Set! Enter a comment and the winner will be announced tomorrow.
Yesterday's winner is the divine Leah! Drop me a line Leah so I can send you your LOOT!
Squam Art Workshops :: On Creating
[The first creation: Clay and small stones attached to a large boulder.]
In between the two days I taught at Squam Art Workshops, I took a class called "Sticks and Stones" with the talented and foxy (did I say that out loud?) Christopher Frost. The class description said:
"Using sticks, leaves, rocks, mud, etc. we will learn construction techniques, the importance of site location, aspects of composition and documentation of ephemeral (made to disappear or transform) environmental artworks."
I am a huge fan of the work of Andy Goldsworthy and had never tried anything like this before, so basically, he had me at "sticks". We worked on two small projects in the morning – one of which is shown above – and in the afternoon we devoted ourselves to one larger project. On a walk through the woods before lunch, I spotted this:
…a lichen covered tree broken in half over a boulder. The instant I saw it I had a vision, where I imagined something spilling out from within the tree. When I came back from lunch, I went to work:
I decided to continue with the theme I started in my very first exercise, working with clay and smaller rocks.
I worked with the grooves and slants of the rock so that the flow of the smaller pieces followed the same path. In other words, however something like water would have flowed out from the tree and over the rock was the pattern I tried to create with the clay and stones.
I had worked for about an hour before it hit me – I can use different sized stones! And I ended up pulling out some pieces I had already laid down in order to incorporate larger and smaller stones. This gave the entire piece more fluidity.
And I just kept going, getting lost in the process…
Spilling, spilling, spilling, and then:
TaDa!
The best part about the day was being outside and listening to the wind. We even got some light rain in the afternoon, and I loved the way the drops changed the look of the piece. It was also a special treat to be in the woods creating, lost in my own world, but being able to look up from time to time to see the other students in their own world as well, creating their own stories with branches, mica flakes, pine cones, acorns, rocks, and leaves. That part of the campground became our own outdoor gallery by the time the class was over.
>>>>TUESDAY GIVE AWAY: An Ordinary Sparkling Moments Postcard Set! Enter a comment and the winner will be announced tomorrow.
Yesterday's winner is the lovely Violetkey. Please email me Violet (christine@swirlygirl.com) so I can send you your PRIZE!
Squam Art Workshops :: On Teaching
[Day One of Squam Art Workshops :: Polaroid taken by the lovely Susannah Conway.]
OK, if I could have figured out how to do html editing on my title, it would have looked like this:
Squam Art Workshops :: On Teaching Learning
because my experience teaching two classes with my lady love Marisa Haedike (that's right, world, I don't care who knows – I'm madly in love with Marisa!) felt more like an exchange rather than a one-way transaction. The experience was like a cozy house, where every room had something comfortable, warm, and inspiring to offer, and when I walked out and shut the door behind me as I boarded the plane back home I felt rejuvenated rather than drained, filled with gratitude, in awe of all the beauties who trusted Marisa and I to help bring their ideas to life.
The Living Room: As a teacher, I felt totally provided for, where Marisa and I were given absolute freedom to structure the class how we wanted, and then given a extraordinary space within which to make it real. On Thursday, Marisa and I walked into a room with twinkly lights and a sparkling fire, and on Saturday we took over a wide open space with sunlight streaming through the windows. If you've been reading all the other blog posts here and there about Squam, then you already know – the lake, the trees, the sunlight…it was magic.
The Kitchen: This is where Marisa and I spent a lot of time experimenting and playing in order to come up with a structure and plan for the class, play being the operative word. I could write volumes about all the reasons I adore Marisa, but the story I found myself telling over and over again as Squam drew closer was of the beautiful way Marisa and I balanced each other. If Marisa was the cat sitting still in a stream of sunlight by a window, I was the bouncy puppy running around in circles. On one of our field trips to buy supplies for our students, we went to a huge antique mart that is a warehouse filled with dozens of displays managed by different vendors. We walked into the mart together, and as Marisa enjoyed browsing the books at one display, I proceeded to do a lap around the entire building, scoping out where the best books were. When I went to find Marisa to give her my full report, she was exactly where I had left her, taking her time with a stack of books on a couch.
Marisa, without ever saying the words out loud, always reminded me to take a deep breath, stay in the moment, and trust the process. She was the calm force in our partnership – reliable, strong, peaceful.
The Studios: Marisa and I taught two classes, and I am still in awe of all the beautiful, heartfelt creations made over the course of those two days. The way I see it, Marisa and I provided a very basic foundation, and every person who took our class built their own unique structure from that. Everyone in both classes added their own special flair to their books, and I would love to invite them all to be guest speakers at any future Book in a Day classes. On that note, it must be said that we even took a binding technique Jenny Doh shared with us in our Thursday class and incorporated it into our Saturday demonstration. I hope that we taught our students something new and inspired them to go a little farther along their creative path, because they certainly did the same for me.
It is my hope that I am able to teach again at Squam Art Workshops, but if the gods don't have it in store for me that will be OK, as this experience was absolutely enough.
“Teaching is the greatest act of optimism” ~Colleen Wilcox
>>>MONDAY GIVE AWAY: A copy of Ordinary Sparkling Moments!
Enter for the drawing by leaving a comment. All comments for today's entry will be entered; winner will be announced tomorrow!
Five Things
1. Head over to Goddess Leonie's site for a FREE How to be a Goddess poster!
2. I love Minzer's Birdhaus Frames.
3. Did someone say aprons? Hello Sommer Designs!
4. Big Picture Scrapbooking is filled with goodness.
5. Kathy Davis is having a Scatter Joy Give Away – how can you resist that?
6. Coming next week: A Squam-A-Day Week! A new post and GIVE AWAY everyday about my experiences at Squam Art Workshops last week.
Unlearning
It is now Day Three of my re-entry back into my "normal" life Post-Squam, and I am still getting things back in order, unpacking, doing laundry, downloading photos, etc. The week has felt easy and slow, with naps and movies on the couch, a feat that doesn't come easily to me no matter how tired I am. My tendency is always to push farther, to say to myself, "I'll just do this one more thing and then I'll take a break," only to find a handful of other "one more things" waiting in the wings for my attention. Like those annoying drivers who cut in line when lanes merge, these little tasks usually push themselves forward and win out, causing the time I thought I'd have on the couch with my magazine or crossword puzzle to evaporate without my realizing it.
But this week I am committed to shifting this intensity down a notch. The summer was an exercise in movement and discipline, when I got so much done in three months I felt slightly inhuman. I became one of those people who was "super super busy", which isn't a crime against humanity, but isn't who I want to be on a full-time basis. So this week is my week to set a different intention, and to let the mile long list of ideas and inspirations in my head do something I don't usually let them do: Sit there. And do nothing.
At least for a little while.
I woke up this morning when it was still dark, and when I looked at the clock it said 5:48am. My first thought was, "Great! I'll get a head start on the day!" but then remembered my intention and crawled back into bed. These are the kind of moments I am having this week, where I am consciously pulling away from the mindset I was in until the morning I left for Squam. I am trying to unlearn the habits that ruled my life from June to September, reminding myself over and over again that I don't have to get everything done today, and if some of my ideas remain ideas and nothing more the world won't collapse. My intention is to create a softer flow in my life – to find the gentlest current, slip in quietly, and let it carry me like a leaf beneath the trees of Big Sur.
“You and I can turn and look
at the silent river and wait. We know
the current is there, hidden; and there
are comings and goings from miles away
that hold the stillness exactly before us.
What the river says, that is what I say.”
~William Stafford
{For more musings on this subject, visit my latest post over at In the Wish Studio!}
On Squam Art Workshops
When I looked up the word good on dictionary.com, it listed 41 variations on the definition. Good is a word that can mean so many things within so many different contexts, it can easily be dismissed as generic, trite and vague. But on the first leg of my journey home, which was the drive from Elizabeth's haven on the hill to the Manchester Airport, it was the word that filled my consciousness. This week was good. These people are good. What we shared was good. And as tired as I am…I feel good.
As I rolled this word around my mind for over an hour, I realized I usually see it as a tiny, bouncy word that flits and floats about like a little bird. And while this isn't a bad thing, it was a different experience to see it as a word with weight and depth and substance. It had the consistency of a warm, hearty stew in the middle of winter, and the weight of a hand-knit blanket. It was something I could dig my fingers into, like a mound of red clay; it was a solid foundation that could hold all the moments and memories of the past many days. It was a rich word, a solid word, a word that could hold everything I wanted to bring home with me.
The word is good – like an egg, like milk, like the first leaf that bursts forth from the earth in spring – pure, clean, whole, enough.
Five Things
1. Aliette's Etsy shop is divine.
2. Check out the latest from The Beckoning of Lovely.
3. Sabrina Ward Harrion's beautiful creations are here!
4. My work and the work of many other talented lovelies is up at "A Vision of Squam" at Artstream Studios.
5. And if you're not here right now, come join us next year!
Lighter
[My uniform at Squam last year; my uniform at Squam this year.]
It has been a week, I tell you.
Good. Intense. Prayer-full.
So much of everything.
My husband and I saw "Julie and Julia" last night, and I was weepy throughout the entire movie. I had read and heard that the Julia part was much more fun and interesting than the Julie side of the story, but I found every inch of the movie just lovely. After what might have been my most hectic summer yet, I walked out of the movie realizing I have, in many ways, forgotten to keep the joy in everything I do. Julia Childs loved eating, loved cooking, and followed that love fearlessly; learning more about her journey and the ripple of joy and inspiration she created helped me see how far I've strayed from that…lightness. It was the exact reminder I needed at precisely the right moment.
During this same 24-hour period, I also got inspired by Marisa who has, I believe, started a movement. In the midst of having to tie up all the loose ends for my journey to Squam Art Workshops next week, I could not wait a single moment to do a massive household purge. This created two carloads to Goodwill and a total re-arrangement of my studio. I am now sitting at my desk with a whole new perspective, literally, feeling like I can board that plane to New Hampshire with…less. Less clutter in my home, my studio, my mind, and my heart. For as I've released boxes and bags of material items, the end of the summer has also provided me with a number of opportunities to release unhealthy stories, patterns, habits, and feelings.
As I said, it has been a week.
But the trash has been cleared, perspectives shifted, so much of what I have and know moved around, passed along, or maybe just slightly adjusted. And in 48 hours I'll be on my way to the magic gathering in the forest that is Squam Art Workshops…feeling light.
"Courage is the power to let go of the familiar." ~Raymond Lindquist
Five Things
1. Loving Joanna Rutter's creations.
2. Congratulations to Mari Robeson and her beautiful new online shop!
3. Come on – Be Sweet.
4. Don't miss out on the Mermaid Class Sale.
5. My latest essay at This Ordinary Day is up!
Wanting So Much
"Nothing ever goes away enough or arrives enough,
and I want to cry when I think of my heart,
muscle pounding in muscle, greedy always for joy."
~Eric Anderson, excerpt from the poem A Warning
