Rites of Passage

 

 

 

I was asked to write a guest blog post for my gracious, beautiful and very talented friend Julia Speer , who has a wonderful site, Sage Soul Sisters.

 

Having reached the age of being a Crone, I decided to write a post about rites of passage, and examine what the term means to me personally. I believe it is about transitional change.  I continue to learn what this means to me, and hopefully I will always welcome change with courage.
 In particular, I strongly identify with traditional First Nation people's outlook, and philosophy regarding rites of passage.

People are always changing. We are either moving forward, or regressing, regardless of  the pace or situation. The one thing that stays the same, is that life is always full of transition, from birth to death.
 My life transitions are particular to me of course, but like most folks, many did not come easily, were beyond my control, and some were of my own choice, and decision.

I don't think it much matters what my experiences were, so much as what my attitude was when they happened, and what I gleaned from these rites of passage. The lessons learned, helped me to become a better human being. I always reflect and paraphrase what I heard Angela Davis say during an interview, when asked about her time in prison; when you go through difficult times she stated, these times either break you, or you get stronger.

My attitude toward rites of passage was, and is everything. I had to find the positive, courage, faith, and trust. When I couldn't find these within myself, I borrowed them from some one else. I had to leave put my false pride aside, reach out to others for help, and put my faith in God.

I certainly understand that much of my behaviour was already hardwired in my personality due to my parental upbringing that determined in part, who I would become as an adult woman.

I have had many rites of passage, and I am still connecting these to myself, as a spiritual being, having a human experience, who has recently transitioned into being a crone, now reaching the age of sixty. When I think about this, it causes me to reflect over the course of my life up until the present, and to take a kind of inventory of these rites of passage.

I have listed the most significant rites of passage in my life.

•  The first transition in my life came at the young age of five, when my brother developed multiple sclerosis.
•  I would be directly effected by two diseases. MS and alcoholism.
• At the age of 13 my father left my family, and my brother had a mental breakdown at the age of 23.
• My mother and I returned to Nova Scotia without my brother, and this point I began to get more seriously involved in substance abuse.
• My brother returned to Nova Scotia. I quit high school, and went to vocational school in order to help me get into art college. I decided I wanted to study art.
• At 17-18 years of age I moved out of my mother's home and lived on my own for a period of time in Halifax.
• At 21 I got accepted into NSCAD ( Nova Scotia College of Art and Design ).
• In 1981 I married the love at my life. Four months later, he was dead from a complications from schizophrenia and brittle diabetes, that tragically took his life in 1981 at the age of 26.
• I married again to an abusive, alcoholic man in 1986.
• I got pregnant twice, and miscarried both times.
• In the late 80s I re-united with my father after having no contact with him for 26 years.
• Joined Al-anon in 1988, found myself in Transition House, and divorced in 1991.
• After meeting an Art Therapist, and she introduced me to The Artist Way. I quit my Youth Care Worker profession to go riding horses at 40  for  a period of approximately two years, and I got sober.
• In my second year of sobriety my mother died. My father and mother came to my first year  anniversary.
• Suffice to say, without going into the messy details, I was out in orbit for the first four years of sobriety, until I started to work the 12 Steps, and then things began to improve. I truly had turned my life, and will over to the power of God as I understood.
• I got involved with Mediterranean dance ( Beledi )  which means folk dance, or commonly known as belly dance.
• My father died eleven years ago, and two months later, MS took my big brother and I was a mess, but I stayed clean and sober.
• At 56 years of age, I went back to University and graduated with my Bachelor of Fine Art from Mount Allison University in 2012.

I hesitated a bit in making this list, as part of my post being so personal, and to some may seem very negative. Yes it's true, much of it was negative, but in retrospect, all of these experiences, and events have helped me to become, and to accept who I am mind, body and spirit. I choose not to let my rites of passage define me in a negative way. I became a resilient, whole person, that learned to take responsibility for my own health and happiness. I've learned to accept the things I can not change, to change the things I can, and to know and discern the difference.
I am grateful for each, and every day of my rites of passage, for my contented, happy, sober life. Especially I am forever grateful to those who helped me along the road.

                                            Self-Portrait/ Artist As A Crone



 

"Good Writing Is About Telling The Truth "

                                       Digital Art by "Nick" at artflakes.com

This morning while sitting at the computer, I casually picked up my copy of Anne Lamott's, Bird By Bird. Leafing through the first chapter. I read, the first thing she tells her students is, "Good writing is about telling the truth." This statement sure resonated with me.

Then I came upon this. It made me laugh, but at the same time, I considered it to be a serious message, because I identified with the feelings reflected in this poem by Phillip Lopate. His poem very truthfully conveys that all too familiar script of the unhealthy inner critic, that artist's often confront, and have to overcome.

Anne Lamott states,  " You can be defeated and disoriented by all these feelings, I tell them, or you can see the paranoia, for instance, as wonderful material. You can use it as raw clay that you pull out of the river: surely one of your characters is riddled with it, and so giving that person this particular quality, you get to use it, shape it into something true and funny or frightening."

We who are
your closest friends
feel the time
has come to tell you
that every Thursday
we have been meeting,
as a group,
to devise ways
to keep you
in perpetual uncertainty
frustration
discontent and torture
by neither loving you
as much as you want
nor cutting you adrift.
Your analyst is
in on it,
plus your boyfriend
and your ex-husband;
and we have pledged
to disappoint you
as long as you need us.
In announcing our
association
we realize we have
placed in your hands
a possible antidote
against uncertainty
indeed against ourselves.
But since our Thursday nights
have brought us
to a community
of purpose
rare in itself
with you as
the natural center,
we feel hopeful you
will continue to make unreasonable
demands for affection
if not consequence
of your disastrous personality
then for the good of the collective.
                                                       -  Phillip Lopate

Baskets and Biscuits

It's very cold out, here in Nova Scotia. Makes me very grateful I don't have to drive any where. So I'm hunkered down, with hot coffee, my CBC radio on, the wood stove roaring, biscuits and baskets on my mind. Perfect combination for a late Fall day.
Here are my last two baskets I made yesterday, and my biscuits I just pulled out of the oven.

 

 

Keep warm and have a lovely handmade day!

The Perfection of Life's Messes

I have never exactly struggled with perfectionism, but rather with guilt, and I'm certain the two are directly connected, and for me, it is simply another one of my 'isms, joining the others I seem to have had for longer than I can remember. I'm not complaining. It's who I am, and I've learned to thrive not in spite of, but because of these challenges.

When I was a student I took a course called, Personal Philosophy, at the University of Prince Edward Island. We could pick a topic of our own choosing and interest, that we wanted to explore and construct a paper and present it to the class. I chose the topic of guilt, and I read a book by C. Allison Fitzsimons, Guilt Anger and God - The Patterns of Our Discontents.

This book helped me to understand the where, what, why, when, and how these attitudes and feelings occur, which in turn helped me too overcome the power they had in dictating much of my unhealthy thoughts.

When it comes to writing, I do it because it makes me feel good,  can't seem to help but write and writing makes sense of life's messes. If my writing helps another feel good, well that makes me feel good too.

Having kept journals as far back as 1970, I have had the pleasure and dismay of looking look back on my life's messes, and often have some good laughs at the young girl I was, and in some ways I still am. I have always been an observer of people, and of life. I like to know what makes people, including myself, tick. I have an analytical personality.

One of the reasons I am so attracted to Anne Lamott's writing, is because she seems to understand herself with all her character defects, her messes, and does so with gracious acceptance, humour, and humility, apparent in all of her books. I think of in particular, her book, Bird By Bird  where she gives a clear demonstration and outlook on  her attitude toward life and writing.

" Perfectionism is the voice of the oppressor, the enemy of the people. It will keep you cramped and insane your whole life, and it is the main obstacle between you and a shitty first draft."

 " I think perfectionism is based on the obsessive belief that if you run carefully enough, hitting each stepping-stone just right, you won’t have to die. The truth is that you will die anyway and that a lot of people who aren’t even looking at their feet are going to do a whole lot better than you, and have a lot more fun while they’re doing it."

“Clutter and mess show us that life is being lived...Tidiness makes me think of held breath, of suspended animation... Perfectionism is a mean, frozen form of idealism, while messes are the artist's true friend. What people somehow forgot to mention when we were children was that we need to make messes in order to find out who we are and why we are here.”  - Anne Lamott

I especially love this last quote. It makes me feel wonderfully happy, and makes me want to celebrate life's messes! Lets dance!

Not Quite Busy As a Beaver

I have been slowly and labouriously working at my wood pile and doing a detailed embroidered project for a friend the past month or so, and haven't been painting. This is about to change shortly, as I have a new series to work on, over the Winter months.

I have continued to work on my baskets over the Summer, and have been trying to get some inventory built up for the Christmas Down Shore Market. I've posted a few new creations.

 

 

Some one else has been busy with woodin' too, my resident beaver!

 

 

 

 

Theaster Gates

Here's an artist with a social conscience were action is his work. Theaster Gates I learned about yesterday on Q. He's my kind of human, my kind of artist.

 

Fabulous Fashionistas - “Having an identity beyond old lady.”

My mother was born in 1912. I was born in 1953. She was 41 years old when I was born, an older mother. Thing was, I never considered her "old". She was ageless to me, because she was comfortable in her own skin. She saw herself and others as people first and foremost, never their age, skin colour, denomination or religious belief, etc.
Sarah Helen, my mum, loved  and cherished life, had wicked sense of humour, a strong sense of wrong and right, believed in God, and was full of courage and strength of character. She taught me many important lessons.

When I saw this video I immediately thought of my mother, because these beautiful women, also have a wonderful attitude toward who they are, love life, and defy any sense of ageism. Oh if only the world could truly take a lesson from these women that see past age, skin colour, creed and gender. They truly define what it means to be a woman fully alive until we finally leave this mortal coil.
 

A Moveable Feast - Running From Crazy

I finished A Moveable Feast, by Ernest Hemingway this week, and happily returned it to the library. It wasn't anything like I thought it would be. I expected it to be full of scenes, situations, and conversations among writers, and artists in Paris, during the 1930s. It was rather dull, and full of descriptions of drunken episodes, and I really don't remember a whole lot else about it except his friendships with Gertrude Stein, and Scott Fitzgerald. As well, the description of how he lived so poorly in Paris with his wife.
 Perhaps my expectations were just a little unrealistic.
That said , I don't doubt Ernest Hemingway's creative ability to write, after all he did recieve a Noble Prize for Literature, and the Pulizer Prize for Fiction. He was indeed a very creative man, and I think especially, when he was sober and well.

 Being a recovering alcoholic myself, I found as was reading his book, I was becoming preoccupied with how many times Hemingway talked about drinking, and what he was drinking, in each chapter, and page. I was beginning to think I was counting the times booze was mentioned, like the way a family member of the alcoholic is always preoccupied with how much the alcoholic is drinking. This is due to my own past obsession with booze, and other people's drinking, which I often take note of. It's why I became a member of Al-Anon in 1988, I was addicted to the alcoholics in my life.

 Truthfully, I didn't find the writing in A Moveable Feast engaging. It impressed me as being disjointed, perhaps because it was a sketchy memoir, that was put together three years after his death.

 I'm certain his writing was affected by his alcoholism, his bi-polar mental illness, and his experience in the war, which I'm certain left him with post traumatic stress.

Hemingway interests me more as a person, than as a writer, not in spite of his troubles, but because of them.
I will attempt to read another one of his books in the future, but in the meanwhile, I'll finish off my books by Eudora Welty and Walker Evans and James Agee, Now Let Us Praise Famous Men.

Today I listened to an interview with Ernest Hemingway's granddaughter, Mariel Hemingway ,which was very interesting and very hopeful. A testament to how we can change our lives. I am very happy that she has been able to turn things around, and breaking that cycle of illness and addiction by speaking out.
 I hope I the chance to see her film, Running From Crazy.

Poverty - I Want To Get Something Off My Chest...

There is something I want to get off my chest. It relates to my last post , in that it has to do with poverty, and the feelings of dis-empowerment that can rise, due to one's lack of income. I hope that I might be able to help others in a similar situation.

While writing this post, I found this amazing animated film, about the history of poverty, and it helped put things into perspective for me. The site whypoverty.net has many similar such films about this important issue, that affects us, in one way or another, artist or not.

No statistical discourse, relaying data on how poverty affects artists is of little interest to me. As an artist, I am well acquainted, and have learned to cope, and adapt with both the effects, and affects of poverty. I really consider myself to be very fortunate, and am very grateful for all of my blessings in life.

What is most troublesome to me, is how more often than not, the lack of income immediately puts a person into a position of dis-empowerment, and can be a downward spiral, especially when compounded by other problems such as illness.
It is however, up to me how I respond to my situation, to the attitude of others, who will often ignore, demean, insult, and put your concerns at the bottom of the list.
 I am grateful to be able to express myself in an articulate manner, improve, even resolve my problems, or circumstances that frustrate, and burden me. But, it can still be a challenge to advocate for myself.

We live in a time when it is almost impossible to speak to someone directly over the phone, playing a constant game of phone tag, including a plethora of unanswered messages. It's enough to drive a person over the edge. It's a covert and sometimes overt message, that you are not important, and you just don't matter, especially if you are poor. Many folks just give up trying to advocate for themselves, or don't have the wherewith all to do so.

There is a history of blaming the poor for their circumstance. I suggest it is a carry over from the Protestant Work Ethic, that perceived poverty to be a moral issue. The poor were seen as morally defective and lazy, being quickly dispersed into work houses.

According to the Protestant Work Ethic, if we work hard enough in spite of our low remuneration, we will be rewarded. Unfortunately, are we are not often rewarded, but mostly taken advantage of, and those who work less, in high paying positions, are often rewarded, praised and held in high regard within our North American society. My dear grand dad would always say, "The rich get richer, and the poor get poorer". I believe he was right. And B.F. Skinner was wrong, we are not always rewarded and punished accordingly for our behaviour.

If you are ever in the position of being hungry, worrying about not having enough food to eat, one's attitude is adjusted to one of empathy, understanding, and hopefully compassion, toward another less fortunate.

The best antidote to worry, is action, not procrastination, I have learned .
Best definition of procrastination I ever heard was this one. "Procrastination is like masturbation, the only one you screw, is yourself."

If you know someone who is having difficulty advocating for themselves, that needs help, give them a hand-up, share with them what helped, what you did, what enabled you to regain your sense of self-empowerment.

If you find constant obstacles blocking your way to advocating for yourself, don't give up, persevere. Persistence, along with trust, and prayer, really does go a long way to help you cope with those overwhelming crazy makers.

I did this today, contacting the head office of a company with my complaint. I could have chosen to do nothing but procrastinate, complain, worry, and continue to feel frustration, resulting I'm sure, in the rise of my blood pressure.

I feel better now. Thanks for letting me rant.

Does Art School Doom Graduates to a Life of Unemployment? Are TED Talks Lying?

                                                                                                            

  In my adolescence, I decided art school was the best choice for me, not because I thought it would help me find employment, to obtain my financial security. But because I knew academia was not where I felt or believed I fit, as my experience within the public school for me was an abysmal boredom, failure and most unpleasant  to say the least, although in spite of all this, my thirst for knowledge always remained, thanks to my family and peers.

Art was what I felt I was good at doing.
Later in my young adult years at art school, it became painfully apparent to me I was not headed for financial independence. I did however develop a resilience, a resourcefulness to find work, in whatever field I could, and managed to get by to make ends meet.

Gradually through hard learned lessons I began to value my work both aesthetically and monetarily, in spite of the challenges faced in an society and economy that certainly wasn't a creative one, with real integrity, but simply serving the top one percent, corporate, mostly self-serving class. Thomas Frank speaks about this in his article, Ted Talks Are Lying To You .

 Most working artists are not wealthy.The average artist's income is well below the poverty level, from what I can tell, and we more often than not, fly by the seat of our pants to pay the bills, support ourselves, and families.

It was told to me during my art education, this quote by George Bernard Shaw. "He who can does; he who cannot teaches". I love teaching and love creating art. I've never believed this adage. Teaching and creating art can be done consecutively, if not simultaneously. Many artists/teachers that I know and respect, do it very well, and are passionate, disciplined and committed to both.

In  Daniel Grant's item from the Wall Street Journal , I read today..."Artists can have good careers, earning a middle-class income," says Anthony Carnevale, director of Georgetown University's Center on Education and the Workforce. "And, just as important and maybe more, artists tend to be happy with their choices and lives."

I find this hard to believe the median income for artists would be $42,000!? Certainly not the reality in Canada! Nay, Nay I say!!!
I whole hearted agree that artists are happy with the choices they've made, and their lives, because art makes them happy. Most artists intrinsically understand money does not bring happiness.
That said, if I ever could actually making a sustainable living as a full time artist, not any where near 42 grand mind you; you can bet, this would definitely add to my happiness, greatly lessen my stress, and I could refrain from eating dust sandwiches from time to time!
 

Post Script Quote from George Benard Shaw: "A fool's brain digests philosophy into folly, science into superstition, and art into pedantry. Hence University education."

 

 

"Hope Blooms"

http://youtu.be/Ix2rPMz-Tz0

Now here is a reason to believe!!!

I was SO excited and happy to hear this wonderful news!

The Dragon's Den loves Hope Blooms !

"Can Art Make Us Care More?"

I've always thought the answer to this question would be an obvious, yes.

Being an artist I have looked at numerous works of art over the years. I can specifically remember the many occasions I was greatly moved by a particular work of art, and how I felt overwhelmed with the subject matter, and the artist because they touched me deeply, on a human level. I was compelled to care more.

Art has a way of doing this. I often look for it from other artists, as I identify with that kind of art, with this kind of artist, because hope is imparted to me for change, and inspires me to want to be a better person and artist.

It is certainly an important matter worth consideration.

 Art reflects life. Compassion, is a such integral part of life. If it isn't, well, I am not a person that is fully alive in my opinion.

http://hyperallergic.com/88353/can-art-make-us-care-more/

A postscript to this blogpost The Lives of Others
An amazing movie about hope, compassion, change and art.

" Testaments of Honour "

Last night I was invited out for supper at my artist friend's house and joined a group of lively individuals with good discussion, great food, candle light and a warm wood fire. I felt very grateful and happy.

Being Remembrance day tomorrow, I've been thinking a great deal about war, veterans, soldiers and peace, over the past few weeks leading up to this time.
 After supper we were talking about Alex Colville, and the effect his war experience had on him personally, and on his art work and practice.

I had mentioned to my friend how Alex Colville had donated the gift of his silk screened renderings to the Owens Gallery at Mount Allison University, not long before he'd died, where he had once been an art student and a teacher.

We talked at length, and then she brought out a printed excerpt from the book, " Testaments of Honour ". This book by Blake Heathcote is a compilation of personal histories of Canadian war veterans.
In this print out, was Alex Colville's personal testament, which my friend lent me to read. He had served in the Royal Canadian Engineers Regiment in North Western Europe, as a war artist, during the Second World War.

 I had more of an in depth perception of who Alex Colville was, upon reading about his own insightful thoughts, and experience of the war, how this shaped who he was as a person, and an artist.

Gabrielle-TIFF

After hearing about Gabrielle being the latest Oscar nomination for best foreign-language film, written and directed by Canadian film maker Louise Archambault; her film certainly sparked my curiosity and interest, because of a subject that is close to my heart, examining the so called "handicap".

 Most Canadians don't have a clue about Canadian film. We can't think of many by name, and have misconceptions about what a Canadian film is like, and often can't imagine why on earth we would be even interested.

Searching to find out more about this film, it lead me to a link of a trailer from Maple Flavour Films (2008) giving a great overview, that points out poignantly and succinctly some of the problems surrounding this lack of knowledge and interest in Canadian film.

I have long had the opinion Quebec supports the arts much more so than the rest of Canada. I suppose there are numerous reasons for this, and it is a somewhat painful and shameful reality for artists in the rest of the country I believe. Not the shame of the artists, but of the powers that be including, social, economic and political climate in our Canadian culture.
Quebec's rich and versatile arts culture is reflected in the world taking notice of such artists as Louise Archambault and Robert Charlebois .

In spite of this, I do remain hopeful. I look to places such as Quebec where artists like Louise Archambault are a wonderful example of how artists can be powerful forces for hope, for changes in misconception, in attitude, and in this troubled world.

Alex Colville's Gift

I was unable to attend this special event last Saturday evening at my Alma Mater, Mount Allison University. This was on CBC TV and I wanted to share it. Very exciting and a wonderful gift! Thank you Mr. Colville for your work and for your life!