they live there

"I have drawn my children and painted them endlessly and I cannot distinguish them from my soul. 

They live there."

Mirka Mora

Wicked but Virtuous: My Life

Paintings: Mirka Mora

it's not where you take things from - it's where you take them to

via

I pinned this on to one of my pinterest boards via every day dreamer yesterday - and given the number of times it's been repinned, it must be ringing true for many...

I came across this wonderful free beanie pattern on Ravelry a while back (if you want to give it a go - it doesn't hurt to add a few extra rows...). 

What I particularly love about this pattern, apart from being a quick knit and keeping heads warm, is this note that the creator of the pattern added at the end:

"feel free to distribute it, copy it, profit from it, learn from it, discard it, and/or share it. Pah! on copyrights that keep loved ones warm!"

 There is so much value in influence and the ideas shared by others (enhanced so much these days by the generosity of the blogosphere) - it is in everything we smell, hear, touch, read, feel, make, taste, share... - and we bring them all back to the place we stand and offer a different take on them.
A unique take because don't we all stand within a different space - even if it is just ever-so-slightly?

Celebrating thievery. What do you think?

play time

del kathryn barton

"The pursuit of truth and beauty is a sphere of activity in which we are permitted to remain children all our lives." Einstein

It's play time, rest time, re-arrange the furntiture time, a few vain attempts to work out tech-issues-with-blogger time (my posts aren't getting updated in readers/email - hmph!), a touch of drink-and-be-merry time and even a bit of sleep time in these parts!

What kind of time are you spending in these last few moments of 2011?

Silence

via

Silence

There’s a viciousness in silence

It can lead the mind to overact

Plump it up with

Toxic imaginings

Embroider it with after shocks

Starve it of its’ fluids

Ungentle it with a cold rip

Don’t offer your quiet

When they have asked you for sound

Or text or image or touch

Lull that thunderous blow

It will only take a moment

To move the sharpness of it

Into a soft humid still

Be generous

All of those who surround you

Are calling for it.

lies behind the text

'....she wraps parts of her photos with floral ornamentation and others with cited calligraphy taken from Biblical texts. They are almost abstract and enigmatic, arousing the viewer's curiosity to discover what are the photographed objects, what meanings lies behind the texts..'

ronit bigal

image and word via

blackout poetry

I was visiting artistic odyssey a few weeks back and came across a post on blackout poetry featuring the work of Tyler Knott.

It encouraged me to search for more ....

And when I did - i discovered Austin Kleon

I have to say...... there's something about blackout poetry. 

I love it!

It ignites curiosity - maybe a bit of intrigue - bit of cloak 'n dagger - revelation of code....

You know those movies where you get access to an underworld. 

Where you're driven through dark empty roads lined with very tall ominous trees. Usually you're in a limousine driven by someone who is very still, very silent and very faceless. 

There's music - it's unsettling.

And then you're driven up a very long driveway and at the end there's nearly always a mansion. All lit up and powerful against the dark. They're beautiful those mansions - just like the Siren's song.

But usually you're not really getting all this because you are - of course - blindfolded.

You're taken (by the faceless silent) through those towering doors - you're blindfold is removed.

And there it is - (you can fill this space with you're own imagery....)

For me, it's the thought:

"So! That's what's been going on behind these doors..... so that's what's Really been happening"

Blackout feels the same. 

Like you've been let in on a secret.

"So that's what's Really been going on behind those words! And all this time I though it was saying something entirely different"

via

And what a wonderful way to write horoscopes!

I think this process of creating poetry would be great for kids. Mine can't read yet - but just getting them to circle words then colour in the rest of the page..... well - it would be so interesting to see what they reveal.

heart-space

“They sang the words in unison, yet somehow created a web of sounds with their voices. It was like hearing a piece of fabric woven with all the colors of a rainbow. I did not know that such beauty could be formed by the human mouth. I had never heard harmony before.” 
― Anita Diamant, The Red Tent

Images: here, here, here and here

why i adore the night

This week I have been so fortunate to have the opportunity to contribute to Hila's 'why i adore the night' project. Hila's blog le projet d'amour is a regular source of inspiration to me - her discussion and aesthetic is rich and beautiful.
If you get the opportunity please visit "why i adore the night' and experience how others have expressed their experience and relationship with Night!
Read more here about Hila's inspiration and idea to explore the subject - beginning from her reading of Jeanette Winterson's article of the same name in The Guardian in 2009.

image source: via

your weight in their hands...

“They encouraged you to put some of your weight in their hands and soon as you felt how light and lovely it was, they studied your scars and tribulations...” 

― Toni Morrison, Beloved

Image source: here and here

More on Toni Morrison here

You are my morocco...

via

Morocco 

Enclosed in your room my mind

clouded Morocco – Sanded horizons

and deep heat pressed repeat and

tossed us through the night

and ever since those times

of a disguised routine

emerald fluid

I have been mapping my own path there

Where the language is strange

the air heavy with stares

the night low and warm and textured

with the rhythm that colours my blood

Rhythm that echoes ochre between her mountains

And lies as fine as flour on her planes

You are my mystique

You are my mould

You are my morocco

Image via

Shake

Speak

Elsa Mora

Have you met Elsa Mora?

Her work is so layered, intricate, precious

diverse - adventurous

and so full with story!

Some of her paper works strike me with the force of their revelations - the emotion in them can knock me over like an icy breeze - lift me like a warm wind.

When writing about this image she added a few quotes. I liked this one:

The mind moves in the direction of our currently dominant thoughts.
Earl Nightingale

I enjoy reading about her journey from Cuba - her reflections on the evolution of her work.

Are there any courageous artists in your life right now?

Wednesday's words

whimsical adj 1 odd or quaint, fanciful, humorous. 2 capricious
whimsy
whimsy whimsy

A highly used word at the moment......

Via

Via

perhaps because it evokes images of intrigue - other worldliness - mysticism - lace.......

Via

and a touch of darkness.

Lunar para Lisa

Or perhaps it's the feeling in your mouth when spoken - like feathers and whispers and floating

Via

wHhhhimmmsical

I like it. It is soft and misty.
And powerful in it's ability to transport the speaker as fast as light -
straight down that rabbit hole.

Caprice n 1 a a whimsical change of mind or conduct b a tendency to do this. 2 a work of lively fancy in painting and drawing, or music; a capricco. (French)

Leah Tacha

Don't think twice, it's all right!

"I am wearing my red markings - the way you wear your sweet mouth.

Dylan spills - smoke secrets spill...."

Anyone else out there got the love for an old Bob Dylan tune?

My creative space

I'm not great at sewing! Really, really not great...

But I'm lucky - I like a rough edge. A raw, incomplete, irregular, surprising edge.

And I enjoy sewing.

I found some inspiration in Growing Up Sew Liberated (great title don't you think?). 

The project - seen here - that I (sort of) followed, uses numbers instead of letters, straight edges instead of....., colourful fabric cut-outs instead of basic outlines, pegs and branches instead of velcro and double sided tape.

But I'm happy with my adaptation. And sometimes my 3-nearly-4 year old is too.

I don't have a strong interest or inclination toward 3 years olds learning the alphabet. The world for them is pretty big on sensory stimulation and learning as it is.

In growth

In relating to their surroundings and to others

In themselves

In play - most importantly 

In Play

But providing opportunity in learning, as opposed to the possible anxiety of expectation, certainly has weight for me.

At the moment our letters are used as tools for actions. 

Play, Dance, Fun, Make, Cake

Or a friend's name

The letters themselves aren't of much interest as yet - except that it's fun to put them in different spots, and feel their texture, and hide them.

And when that interest evolves and grows into something else, these rough edged - sewn with love - softly textured letters will be waiting..... well, at least the ones that haven't been hidden too well!

What's been happening in your Creative Space?

Bombing for peace is like.....

Via

After the Storm

Olive skin

Death has lightened me toward you now

Your olive bound skin

Is fading

Beneath the grove I have formed for you

Your strong man hands

Are gripping still – this childhood grasp

Softer - now that you have gone

Here  

More often than you could before

Death has lightened me toward you now

And showed her soft face again

Gentled your accent

Quietened your unsettling

Warmed your gaze

She has given her kindness to me

And left the others bruised

Bent backward and wondering

Those infant hands reached for you as they

Lowered you down

Eyes like a bloodline – beating hard

To raise you back up again

They stumbled you know – let you slip

You would have laughed

Knowing

With the sport, and the dance and the strength of the trade

You would never have let that happen

We both sit, he and I, with the gifts

Your fathering gave  

Bright and terrible and tremendous

Rest them in our palms

Fire them up

Switch them off

Nurture them

Tending to that Olive Grove

That lies

With you

For you

Oceans away

Right here

Yes. I have lightened toward you

Now that you are gone