Tag Archives: past

Perfectly ordinary

22 Friday Jun 2012

Posted by in Think

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May 11 was beautiful here in Tennessee. The weather was sunny and warm, and the day was fairly predictable, in a wonderful sort of way: cookies were baked and dishes were washed; a neighbor’s kids stopped by for a few hours, and we enjoyed dinner and a family game night. The last of the homeschool lessons were finished up, and summer break danced tantalizingly on the next week’s calendar page, along with dance rehearsals and slumber parties and orthodontist appointments.

All day long I hugged a little secret to myself, trying to make the most of May 11 without granting it any special attention. It was a day that cried out to be noticed, but a day I hoped would blend into the others around it, on its way to becoming ordinary. One year ago that day — on May 11, 2011 — a medical error almost took my life. On May 11, 2011, my heart stopped and started again, fast and furious and broken. And with it sped away my sense of security and trust in the safe places, and in rushed a year of hurting and healing, searching and finding, a year of so much pain and so much more beauty.

I didn’t mention May 11 to anyone until it was over. Didn’t point it out or raise a banner that said “I SURVIVED” precisely because I did survive, because all those days in between May 11, 2011, and now are the real story. I didn’t blog or reflect or reminisce with others. Instead I prayed and said thank you, as I do every day, and I went on with the business of making the most of this gift of another day with my loved ones.

I love to share ideas about cooking and crafting, about what I’m reading and thinking, and hopefully I make somebody smile along the way. But May 11 reminded me again of what this blog is really all about: creating today and making it matter — not because it’s pretty and perfect, but because it’s here and its ours. I celebrate May 11 because it was another perfectly ordinary day, and I’m so thankful for every single one of them.

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Build

24 Tuesday Apr 2012

Posted by in Make

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I got the very best birthday present this year: a passel of rusty old metal, courtesy of some dear friends and their 140-year old farm. There are nails and screws, washers and springs, hinges and handles, locks and keys: all lovingly hand-picked, colored by history in shades of deep orange and warm red. Who wants a pristine, shiny package when you can have a gift pulled from the clutches of spiders in the back of the barn? To some, all that rust may just seem like tetanus waiting to happen, but to me it is the sweetest kind of treasure.

Maybe I appreciate it all the more because I’m feeling a little bit vintage myself these days. I’m certainly showing some wear (I like to call it “patina”), but I still work hard and have some pretty good stories to tell. If there is beauty in being authentic, then all my creases and chipped edges make me positively radiant. :)

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It was that theme — the value in building a life with layers of wear and age — that inspired my most recent collage. I used my favorite hinge from my collection of vintage bits (yes, I have a favorite hinge) because its dusky blue reminded me of the sky in an old oil painting. I also picked out a few gears and some rusted nails to bundle in twine, then set to work assembling a multimedia landscape.

The background is a 5″x7″ watercolor illustration board painted to look like a piece of worn metal. This was the perfect opportunity to use Sophisticated Finishes, a liquid copper finish that can be custom-antiqued with a selection of blue and green patina solutions. It is little more than chemistry in action, but it gives me a thrill every time I watch a metallic surface fade and oxidize before my eyes.

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The paper pieces are from a 1952 travel magazine highlighting the charms of the midwestern United States, a great fit considering most of the vintage pieces I used hail from Kansas. I snipped and sanded a little balsa wood house, wallpapered with a page from an old hymnal, and set it against a fence made of sculpture wire. The final addition was a grove of stamped, embossed trees.

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There is such an obsession in our culture today with looking younger than we really are, smoothing out our wrinkles and blemishes until our faces have all the interest of a buffed wax floor. I am not sure how having the forehead of a 16-year-old became so important, but I think a society that values appearance above character has just hammered the perfect, shiny nails into its own coffin.

I value wisdom and experience, and that stuff usually comes with the price of aging. I would rather show and feel those years and know I really learned from them, than stay the unwrinkled, unknowing me I was a decade ago. I suppose that line of thinking also makes me sound increasingly vintage, but I don’t mind, because I’ve figured out how much promise that holds.

Hope Collection

30 Monday Jan 2012

Posted by in Make, Think

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I am a collector by nature. Not of anything obvious or mainstream, like stamps or rare coins, but of the things that inspire me: vintage valentines, old books and photographs, tiny resin flowers, and Japanese glass beads. I have a pair of antique opera glasses that thrill me with their aged mother-of-pearl, enamel, and brass, and the single-word inscription Paris. I have tucked away fall leaves that look as if each one was hand-watercolored, bits of wool and velvet ribbon, a handful of board game pieces smoothed and worn by the fingers of children who could easily have been my grandparents. None of them bear much monetary worth, but measured in sentiment and beauty, they have great value to me.

When I set out to make a birthday gift earlier this month for one of my dearest friends, I thought a lot about the items I have collected and what they mean to me. She is also a lover of history who understands how a connection to the past can give you steadier feet in the present. We have both had our share of challenges recently and discovered that there is great faith and hope to be found in the midst of pain and loss. I set out to build her a collection of items that symbolize hope to me, then give them words — a sort of visual and spiritual scavenger hunt.

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The container itself is a printer’s tray, sometimes also called a specimen tray, depending on whether you lean more toward bibliophile or biologist. I filled it with the kinds of things I think someone might make and collect over a lifetime, a very personalized sort of natural history museum: rocks and feathers, shells and dried flowers, bits of embroidery and handmade paper snowflakes.

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Underneath each smaller box is a Bible verse that links directly to the item above, so that each little compartment hides a secret message of encouragement. My hope is that after reading the verses a few times, just seeing the pieces of the collection will be enough to call to mind the words behind them.

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The most challenging task in the whole project was covering each of the 21 inner boxes, ranging in size from 1-1/2″ squares to 3″x6″ rectangles, with a half dozen layers of tissue paper, cardstock, and sealant. The vintage text and rich green, purple, and mustard are much more visually appealing to me than its original gray craft paper covering. It was detailed, time-consuming work, but it gave me plenty of time to plan the contents and verses. As is often the way with this kind of artwork, I was definitely blessed and encouraged myself by the process of creating it.

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