My Muckle Wheel

Yesterday a made an unusual and very special purchase that I couldn't really afford, but I felt like I couldn't afford to pass it up either, because I very much doubt that I'd ever have another opportunity like this again.

I feel in my very bones and believe it was the right, once in a lifetime decision that I had to take advantage of, because owning a spinning wheel is something I've wanted for so many years, since I was first exposed to one as a teenager in a spinning workshop, so many years ago.

Always knowing that the price I'd have to pay, it would undoubtedly be realistically way beyond my financial reach, until yesterday! I was able to pay ninety dollars for this spinning wheel, in perfect working order, and probably a turn of the century antique the Great Walking Wheel!

My neighbour in the next village just a few miles down the country road, owned it, but never used this spinning wheel. She had it in her gift shop that she's selling, along with all her inventory. She'd only used it to display the mittens she'd made, attached to the wheel with clothes pegs.

I could never have ever imagined I'd ever be able to find this magnificent wheel right in my own neighbourhood! I'm so very happy and grateful and can hardly wait to get some wool to spin!

"Great wheels are driven spindle wheels and are also called wool wheels, high wheels, walking wheels, or muckle wheels (a Scottish term)."

I feel a great affinity with the spinning wheel and especially with this Great Walking Wheel. It's a metaphor for life really, as it relates and reminds me very much of the three ages of the Moirai, reflecting the lunar phases and the three stages of every human life. They spin, measure and cut in the  Wheel of Fortune Tarot Card.

I have been learning about weaving on a Leclerc table loom that a good friend very generously gave me, and weaving traditionally always began with spinning, and so it's very fitting that I now have my very own spinning wheel to spin the natural wool I choose to use for weaving.

On both my mother and father's side of the family, my grandmothers did very fine handcrafted work, crocheting, lace work, knitting and quilting, which I learned from my mother. I never learned about spinning or weaving other than being briefly exposed to it as a youth. I'm certain my great grandmothers would spin out of necessity and knew how to weave. It gives me a deep sense of connection with them carrying on this fine traditional work.

Photo - knittyspin.com

The Great Walking Wheel has been described as being truly enchanting, and I'd have to say I'm enchanted, completely. The photo above is one I found on the great site knittyspin.com and it's the same wheel I have, just a much better photo than the one I took of my wheel. As you can see it's a very simple design in form and function. This is the great beauty of the Great Walking Wheel in my opinion.

It's amazing how common textile hand work has been featured in so many mythological stories, and folk lore, especially involving the spinning wheel, which is the oldest form of textile.

Ursula Johnson - Winner The Sobeys Art Awards - 2017

Ursula Johnson, Moose Fence 2017, Lumber, fencing, ungulate gate programed lighting. Installation view at the Art Museum at the University of Toronto

 This is a happy day!

Sobey Art Awards Ursula Johnson -Awije-jk

Tarana Burke - Me Too

Tarana Burke

Not the easiest post to write and think about, but I'm compelled to do so, considering all the ongoing media attention and outpouring of "Me Too" posts on social media in light of film producer Harvey Weinstein, and the allegations of abuse and sexual harassment made against him by women in the film industry.

I also posted "Me Too", having had experiences of being sexually harassed, and subject to abusive relationships at different points throughout my life.

I don't believe many women were at all surprised all of this came to light. It's what women have been experiencing from time immemorial, systemic, cultural and insidious abuse and sexual harassment, threats and rape. As I thought about this today, I made the historical connection of past cultures, when there once was the fundamental belief in the Goddess, when a woman's body was considered sacred, because her womb was the vessel that held the miracle of life itself. I'm so often acutely and painfully aware this spiritual theology of the sacred feminine, is not held in high regard today. It has been replaced and defined in masculine terms, within religious, cultural and societal institutions. The consequences being, everyone continues to experience the fall out from this abuse of destructive power and control in one way or another.

Such an epidemic within society and throughout the world has reached a pivotal crisis by way of a perpetuated shaming silence, keeping women and men imprisoned in shame, through guilt and all to often, blaming the victim.

Of course it's essential that we stand up and speak out against abuse. Everyone and especially men must take a very proactive and significant role in speaking out against this behaviour.

Today I'd heard Quentin Tarantino make a statement he was aware of  Weinstein's behaviour. He said he was heartbroken and regrets he'd been complicit by never speaking out. We can only hope that in the future those like Tarantino will no longer choose to keep silent.

Women need men to be speaking out against predatory, monstrous and deplorable  behaviours, and those responsible need to held accountable legally and socially. Women also need to be believed, supported and men need to proactively promote change. We're all in this together, and we need to help one another make a better world for the following generations.

Power and control must be replaced with compassion, justice and peace in order to preserve, protect, reclaim and honour the very soul of culture.

Sick Boy - Jeremie Saunders, Taylor MacGillivary, Brian Stever

Jeremie Saunders, Taylor MacGillivary, Brian Stever

I first heard about these three beautiful, wise, insightful and hilarious Haligonian young men a number of months ago. Then two days ago they were featured again on CBC Radio on The Current.

Sickboy is their podcast that features interviews and discussions about illness, death, life and lots of laughter. I could say they're inspirational examples, and all the other trope like adjectives that describe those of us dealing with terminal illness, and mortality. But I'll simply say they're great guys who talk openly, honestly and humorously about life and the really difficult parts of it, that most of us rather avoid.

 It's the kind of refreshingly, deep communication that everyone should have, about illness, grief and death in between the laughter.

Sam Smith - Pray

Laying in my bed every morning before my feet hit the floor, I spend a few minutes of quiet and focus to read from two small contemplative and meditative books that are my daily readings.

Once downstairs my usual routine is to get the coffee, going have a bite to eat and then write in my journal. This morning for some reason I missed the readings and the writing, which for me is kind of like a stream of consciousness and really also like prayer for me.

My radio is always on, because I'm such a radio head and a dyed in the wool CBC addict. When this song was being played, it stopped me dead in my tracks, the song Pray I'd never heard, by an artist I'd never heard of, Sam Smith. I guess I'm either living in a vacuum or don't listen to commercial radio. Regardless I'm now a big fan.

The lyrics touched me. I think many people feel what he describes in his lyrics, about not knowing what to say about the state of the world, or knowing how to express the inner struggles with feeling alone or being in a state of despair for whatever reason.

Reflecting on a time, 37 years ago I felt this way. I was in a quite room with a priest who was trying to spiritually walk with me and the darkest time in my life, when my late husband was on life support in Toronto's St. Michael's hospital.

I told the priest I found it impossible to pray. I wasn't able to find any words, and my heart felt like it had turned to stone. He gently touched my face, the same way my late husband would, who was a very spiritual, tenderhearted and loving man. The priest said to me, the desire to pray is a prayer in itself. In the years to come I read the same thing that the Trappist monk, Thomas Merton wrote in his book The New Seeds of Contemplation. 

There are still times I don't have the words to pray, but I'm comfortable with that because I've learned that the Creator only expects from us the honest desire in our hearts to pray, whether we have the words or not when our hearts feel like they've turned to stone. And I've read that prayer isn’t come as you are; it’s just be who you are.

 “Prayer and love are really learned in the hour when prayer becomes impossible and your heart turns to stone.”
                           - New Seeds of Contemplation -Thomas Merton

I'm young and I'm foolish, I've made bad decisions
I block out the news, turn my back on religion
Don't have no degree, I'm somewhat naive
I've made it this far on my own
But lately, that shit ain't been gettin' me higher
I lift up my head and the world is on fire
There's dread in my heart and fear in my bones
And I just don't know what to say


Maybe I'll pray, pray
Maybe I'll pray
I have never believed in You, no
But I'm gonna pray


You won't find me in church (no) reading the Bible (no)
I am still here and I'm still Your disciple
I'm down on my knees, I'm beggin' You, please
I'm broken, alone, and afraid
I'm not a saint, I'm more of a sinner
I don't wanna lose, but I fear for the winners
When I tried to explain, the words ran away
That's why I am stood here today


And I'm gonna pray (Lord), pray (Lord), maybe I'll pray
Pray for a glimmer of hope
Maybe I'll pray (Lord), pray (Lord), maybe I'll pray
I've never believed in You, no, but I'm gonna...


Won't You call me?
Can we have a one-on-one, please?
Let's talk about freedom
Everyone prays in the end
Everyone prays in the end
Oh, won't You call me?
Can we have a one-on-one, please?
Let's talk about freedom
Everyone prays in the end
Everyone prays in the end


Oh, I'm gonna pray, I'm gonna pray, I'm gonna pray
Pray for a glimmer of hope
Maybe I'll pray, pray, maybe I'll pray
I've never believed in You, no, but I'm gonna pray

Giles Clement - Aerial Tintype

Giles Clement

I've noticed a whole lot of young people taking a serious interest and real passion about things old, like everything 60s, the tradition of black and white photos and old school photography that involves disciplined processes, like spending solitary hour after hour  in a dark room, developing film.

There's a serious resurgence happening that really excites me. The adage of everything old is new again I believe to be true, but with a twist combining the old art with the new is mind expanding and inspiring that is carrying on a tradition, leaving me feeling creatively hopeful for the future of art and artists.

Today on what some folks call "The Face Book "I saw this. Blows my mind, involving large format view cameras, Tintype and a drone! Very exciting. Great youtube video about Giles Clement's Tintype photographs, with a great up town funk kinda song!

Bonn-e-Lass

Bonn-e-Lass - Egg Tempera - Catherine Meyers 2017

I held off posting this painting for sometime as it was a commission for a friend's daughter to be given to her on her Birthday. The Birthday has come and gone so I'm free to post this egg tempera painting of her late grandfather's Cape Island fishing boat in Apple River Bar.

Before moving to Apple River in 1995 permanently, I really knew very little about this place of rich history of sea faring vessels, majestic beauty and kind folk. A young man who I dated many years ago, when I was just 17 brought me to Apple River and he'd lived in Apple River when he was young as he was from the area. Sadly, he tragically died young.

I never imagined then that I would be living in the exact spot he'd once taken me. What I did know was what a special feeling I had, I'd say looking back it was a spiritual feeling I got about Apple River, all those years ago, that I never forgot, and I'm so grateful to that beautiful young man who brought me here 47 years ago.

In 1994 I ended up going into a real estate office where I knew a good friend who worked there.  Passing by I'd seen a photo in the window of a house in Apple River, and those feelings came rushing back, of the memories when I'd been there so long ago, remembering how what a special place it was.

I wasn't looking for a house and the price was far from affordable for me. I was simply looking for a small Summer spot to get away from my work and paint.

It wasn't any time my friend said to me, "Cathy I know your and artist, and I have just the place for you." She proceeded to show me the photo of the house, located in Apple River that I saw in the window of her real estate office. I told my friend I could never afford the price. She stated if I offered the woman who owned it, a much lower price, she thought she'd take it, and so I did. And the rest, as they say, is history. I've never regretted it for a minute and I love my community, and the way of life is second to none.

My mother once told me our family had relatives in the area that were Rectors, as my great grandmother was a Rector from West Brook, Nova Scotia. The first Rector had settled in the Parrsboro area of Nova Scotia. But I knew of none of these relatives. 

This painting is of the late Clifton Rector's Cape Island boat. I know Clifton was a relative of mine, but I'm not sure exactly how, a cousin several times removed I expect. I never knew Clifton but I heard many good things about him.

There were a total of 14 vessels built in Apple River in the past. It was a bustling and thriving place once, with a post office, a school and a couple of hotels, not to mention a logging mill that employed many men, along with fishing and sailing vessels that enabled folks to sustain themselves.

The vessels and logs would come right down Apple River. This is a picture of the old mill that once stood out back of my place.  

 Once moving here I did find out some of the connections I had in the area, and  it left me with the distinct feeling that I knew this is exactly where I was meant to be. I'm blessed and grateful to know that.