Embrace the slide

My entire “snow safety strategy” boils down to two basic principles (plus “dress warmly enough so you don’t freeze”).

As I’m driving along, repeatedly downshifting to avoid using the brakes, which could lead to sliding on the icy, snowy streets, I realize that 2nd gear is my go-to. In fact, my whole snow safety strategy really is very simple…

Second gear & “walk like a penguin”

I watched a woman picking her way alongside the road this morning and wondered why she was lifting her feet and placing them, one at a time, precisely and distinctly on the sidewalk in front of her. Then I considered that maybe it was her way of avoiding sliding at all. I wanted to yell, “Bad strategy, lady. Be careful! Embrace the slide and walk like a penguin!!” But she was already out of sight by the time I’d processed all that.

Be careful! Embrace the slide and walk like a penguin!!

It might sound counterintuitive, but it’s what penguins (and Minnesotans) do on the ice. It keeps your base of support large to minimize the chance of falling all the way down, whereas, if you lift one foot all the way off the ground and slip on the one that’s supporting you… Boom! Not good!!

That’s all, folks. Downshift to second gear to slow down, minimise the use of your brakes in the snow & walk like a penguin, just shuffle along when it’s slippery. Of course you also avoid the worst slippery spots, if possible. Unless you are a child and determined to enjoy the ice!! 🧊 ⛸️ ❄️

PS Take all my advice with a grain of salt because: real fingers were frozen for the writing of this blog post whilst supervising free ranging chickens in the snow. In my defense, I don’t have gloves that work with my touchscreen.

Is it art? Or is it ugly??

I made this vase for floating blossoms (pictured with dahlia from our garden)

Can it be both…

Art AND ugly at the same time?

“What makes something art?”

Janine, my ceramics classmate

She was flipping through a book about ceramics, filled with pictures of gorgeous vase after gorgeous vase, interspersed with a few that were a bit… less expertly executed.

“A 2 year old could make that!” I said, but quickly corrected to “a 5 year old” because it wasn’t quite THAT basic. Also, because it is ceramics, which requires some attention to physics and chemistry, it was maybe more along the lines of a young teenager quality. BUT it didn’t seem to fit with the other masterworks in the book, so we were wondering. “What makes something art?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. But it made me think. I do know, something.

A bowl I’m working on. I’m having a blast “painting” with different colors of clay. Sadly, some of the experiments with this method have flopped. The different clays don’t always bond well together.

Having recently watched the movie “Being Michelle,” observing her artwork and the role it played in her communication and healing, I do know that she is an artist. Whether or not her work ever hangs in a museum exhibit, is sold for beaucoup bucks, is published widely (beyond the movie) or whatever standard makes one a “good artist”, Michelle is without any doubt an artist.

An artist is someone with a message to share who shares it through some form of visual expression. A craftsman, on the other hand, is someone with skill in an artistic medium, or even in multiple media. Devoid of inspiration, a craftsman creates beautiful objects but doesn’t necessarily communicate with them. However, when inspiration strikes, when a message falls into the hands of a skilled craftsman, that’s when masterworks can be created. That is what is usually described as “good art.”

I’ve begun playing with pouring medium, definitely not at craftsman level with this!

Pondering that leaves me with more new questions:

• What happens when someone makes a work that is skillfully executed but it doesn’t resonate with you?
• Perhaps you disagree with the message being communicated?
• Does that make it “not good art” or “not art”??
• Does each of us define what is or is not “art”??

Pre-glazed paper porcelain tealights

I know that I’ve been around long enough to have a few messages to share (hence the blog, I guess 😀), but some of my thoughts can’t be effectively expressed in words, so… art? I also feel called/inspired to make a lot of the works I create. Pretty sure all that adds up to declare that I am, in fact, an artist…

I think this piece speaks of depression. It was definitely a product of inspiration. I still remember the rush I had when I got to class that day… “I’m going to make a big pumpkin out of black clay,” I declared enthusiastically. Nobody understood, for a long time. Now they do! 😀

I am, in fact, an artist

😆 autocomplete wanted me to end that phrase with “outcast”… maybe that, too, AI. Thanks, robots, I appreciate the vote of confidence.

Trying to find the best clay/glaze combos for these tiles. These were the first tests… skilled craftsmanship takes work, patience and BAH, let’s see if I’ve got any of that!?!

Bellerina

This is Belle, named after the Disney princess. She’s not the only princess, though. We also have Cinderella.

who likes to perch in trees

And then there’s Snow White, who shares coloring with Belle

Belle was born on the day of the ballet (danse classique) exam and recital of one of our family members, so it makes complete sense that she gets called Bellerina, for long.

Pure black from head to toe, here’s a pic of baby Belle with her mama

She was an only child, orphaned on August 2nd. Poor thing!

Standing on her mom’s grave (and many aunts’, uncles’, and her dad’s grave, for that matter)

She used to be at the bottom of the pecking order, being the very youngest of the whole flock. Then, she was so traumatised after the great chicken massacre of 2023 that she was afraid of everyone, including, as I mentioned before, my hubby. She’d occasionally look for treats from me but not get very close.

She was in such a state by the time we got the rabbit that I actually had to chase her outside one of the first days that we had him. She was too frightened to even go out, an activity that is normally greatly appreciated by cooped up chickens.

We gradually introduced him, but still there was fear…

I think the game changer was when I brought them a huge juicy plantain plant from the garden and told them I brought them a meal to share. I saw them gladly gobbling it, together. He was doing what males of some species do to acquaint themselves with others… (I didn’t have my camera with me, or I’d have some pics to share. You’ll have to trust me that it was awfully cute, except the, um, sniffing part, of course, which was just hilarious.)

She was helping him clean his paws within that first week.

It didn’t take long for them to get friendly with each other, to seek out each other’s company, sometimes even when they are outside free ranging.

But now she is leveraging her friendship with the King to make her way up the pecking order

I’ve seen her challenging some of the new chicks, gradually making her way up from the bottom of the pecking order. It’s actually a little amusing, considering she used to be afraid of her own shadow, practically!!

No fear!

To Halloween or not to Halloween?

Do you celebrate Halloween?

A ceramics classmate

There was a stunned silence when I declared, “No, I do not celebrate Halloween.” It hardly seemed the place for a deep theological explanation of light versus darkness and why one chooses to celebrate one but mourn the other. However, I did want to explain a little, so I said that I find gory things ugly and unpleasant.

Ceramic pumpkin I made last year; not gory, beautiful!

My classmate agreed, saying she’s afraid of spiders. Meanwhile, her neighbours installed a gigantic spider on their front door that she has to see every time she goes out.

“Exactly!” I said, “we have enough trauma in our lives. We really don’t need to add to it intentionally.”

This time, the atmosphere was more one of agreement and understanding.

Let’s add beauty to the world. Hold the trauma. Skip the drama (except on the stages where it belongs).

There’s a magnificent fungus. I guess beauty comes, eventually, from death and decay, also.

Val Dieu

Went to the valley of God. Twice. It was beautiful.

But empty. Both times.

So I asked God, “Why is this place so empty? It should be full of people, come to meet with you and praise you!”

The only place with any people is the shop, the brewery, and a very few people wandering into the Basilica, every so often…

Why is this place so empty?

Because people don’t want me. They don’t want to spend time with me. They want what I can provide. They want my blessings, but they don’t have time for me.

Jesus gives us living water

People don’t want God, they only want his blessings

What I heard while pondering this week

We even got a “love letter” from God in the form of a heart shaped nutshell on the ground! 🥰

Be you!

This is what I think of lots of things, including all these lies.

“Don’t be a burden, Maija!” “Stop showing off!” “Don’t make a mess!!” “Don’t rock the boat!”

I believed all those lies far TOO LONG! That is what they are: lies. Now I don’t suggest that one should truly show off (to bring all attention to oneself, for the simple sake of being in the limelight). But the fact is, being real, authentic, and sharing what you have to say might bring some attention, and that’s not the same as showing off for the pure sake of attention.

By being ourselves, by shining our light, we might make people uncomfortable. It’s a risk of living. By failing to be ourselves, by making ourselves small, we risk a lot more. We risk losing ourselves. We risk not sharing with the world those gifts we were sent here to share. Those are far greater risks and I’m tired of taking them.

I know I will make people uncomfortable. I accept that it’s my speciality. I did a thing last week. In art class we were told to make “an idol” literally and not even kidding.

This is what I made. It is a hand (the right hand of God) holding the earth, which is cracked open (and cracking open) to reveal, yes, a fetus. It’s based on Psalm 139

Psalm 139:1–8 (LEB)
O Yahweh, you have searched me, and you know me.
You know my sitting down and my rising up.
You understand my thought from afar.
You search out my wandering and my lying down,
and are acquainted with all my ways.
For there is not a word yet on my tongue,
but behold, O Yahweh, you know it completely.
You barricade me behind and in front,
and set your hand upon me.
Such knowledge is too wonderful for me.
It is set high; I cannot prevail against it.
Where can I go from your Spirit,
or where can I flee from your presence?

Psalm 139:13-16 (LEB) Indeed you created my inward parts;
you wove me in my mother’s womb. I praise you, because I am fearfully
and wonderfully made.
Wonderful are your works,
and my soul knows it well. My frame was not hidden from you,
when I was created secretly,
and intricately woven
in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my embryo,
and in your book they all were written—
days fashioned for me when there was not one of them.

Psalm 139:23-24 Search me, O God, and know my heart;
test me and know my anxious thoughts. And see if there is in me the worship of false gods,
and lead me in the way everlasting.

Psalm 139 select verses

Before

After. Just a couple of minutes later. It’s called a “palette cleaning painting.” Might touch it up a bit. But the palette is clean now.

Invisible?

• Do I exist?
• Does it matter?
• Can anybody see me?
• Does anyone care?
• Do I make a difference?
• Am I invisible?

Apparently these are common questions, so if you ask them, you’re not alone. And if you wonder them, the answer is yes, yes, yes, yes, yes and NO.

The real question to ask is whether there is a more authentic way that you can be showing up for yourself and for others. Because then you would be making the difference you long to make, the difference you were created to make in this world. 🌎

Is there a more authentic way you could be showing up?

My middle name means beautiful

Don’t laugh, it really does

Too sensitive to wear make up, I don’t fit the usual mold of what people think of as “beauty” but I’m starting to come to grips with the reason my middle name fits. Part of my purpose on this earth is to bring beauty. That’s why I love making art so much.

Portion of a recent painting I made. First time painting with flourescent colours. It was FUN!

Beauty, joy, color, life… all on my To Do list

Little Spitfire, who hatched under our warmth and supervision, is growing and doing well 😍