art as life

An End to Winter: Back to the Studio

| ellenanneeddy
Daylily Dance

Winter is this huge interference of snow and ice on a perfectly nice season. Mostly it’s a waiting time. I hate waiting. Not a skill I have.

I’ve spent the last two months recovering from two knee surgeries to repair a previous surgery. If it sounds like it sucked rocks, you’re right. Everyone was kind, and I purposely spared everyone details and day-to-days of my recovery. I’m mostly through it. It’s all over but the rehab and the shouting.

It’s like everyone else who goes through this. It’s a sparse time separated from your life. I crocheted edged handkerchiefs as a new thing I wanted to learn. It got as bad as that. But it fills time and doesn’t hurt, so that made it worth the candle

So when Don said I was going to the studio, I was worried. About the big step at the back door. About how long I could sit with my knee dangling. And always, did my creativity dry up during this sparse enforced winter of healing.

Silly me. Got the step in one bounce. Worked for about three hours and started a triptic I’ve been dreaming about for some while.

Here’s my bits about the new tryptic. I want to revisit Daylily Dance with more butterflies and caterpillars. Here’s the backgrounds I chose.

Background choices
Tryptic panels

Here’s some flower bits.

Is my creativity on board? I don’t think I need to worry about that. More quilts in my head than I can count.

I still have some rehab I would like to avoid but can’t. But at bottom line, I’m back where I belong.

I hope all your winters are short and productive. I hope spring finds us all whole in ourselves and with each other in kindness. I hope spring brings us the new flowers of creativity to change the world with the things we make with our hands.

Art-Life. Life-Art

| ellenanneeddy

Leafing
Leafing

It’s been a while since I’ve blogged anything. There are times when you live your art. There are times when your art is an effort to live your life. I think most artists swing between those two points. With all the changes coming down, I’m hung somewhere between packing and planning. The art there is the art of putting it all into a box.

 

 

 

don and iFor those who’ve missed the punchline. I’m getting married, November 21st, to Don Bowers, a dear friend from college who somehow, miraculously has become my love. And I’m moving to Galesburg, IL.

wedding inviteAt that point, I need to pack up and move my home and studio and plan a wedding. At 62.

I’d given up. I’d given up so often I could have written a book on giving up. Surprise.

Will I still teach? Yes if I’m asked. So ask. Will I still do my art? How do any of us stop doing are art? Art is not a process. It’s a by-product of an artist’s life. As we live we express ourselves in many ways. Art is just part of the expression.

What is today’s task? Emptying the dead and quite scary freezer to make room for the new one. There’s art for you. Bring out your dead. Find what’s still living. Hand the rest to Mo.

herculeTangentially, we’re having a mouse problem. The mice are a problem. Mo, the munificent and very messed up 14 year old cat is doing his best to show me that he is a magnificent mouser. I just wish he would stop putting them in the kitchen and in my bed. I always wanted breakfast in bed, but please. Not while it’s still warm.

I’ve had the privilege of sharing so much of my life with you all. It seems strange not to. So I’ll be writing a bit about this as I move, make room for the changes, start to merge with someone in a strange space.  We are all artists, by genome, by birthright. And sometimes our lives are simply the art of trying to make sense of our lives.

If you’d like more information about the wedding, please check our web site on The Knot.  If we had a failure of mail or brain pressure and you need to be with us on that day, let us know and we’ll put out more fudge for you. (Yes. I made ten batches). And if you have a moment, say a prayer for us. It’s a lot of changes.