Author: freshcutfeelings

I strive to show up everyday ready to discuss grey areas with anyone, but I know I am an all or nothing individual. I want cold turkey inductions and painstakingly intentional paths forward. I want to plot a linear route even when there is a fourteen foot bank left by the plow with an absolute promise of a snow-up-to-your-crotch kind of climb. I want the passion, the adventure and the heartache of a direct approach. There will still be nuance, I swear.

I used to think that my inclination towards direct routes were shortcuts and they meant I was lazy. I held shame about it for years, but didn’t really change much about my approach. Now I wonder what’s lazy about clawing yourself out of an inevitable snow hole that’s half as deep as your body just because walking a quarter block extra/around felt like the absurd option. Truly it may be stubbornness more than anything else. I wouldn’t consider scaling the bank if others were along with me (humans: no/dogs: yes). I have a lot more connections to make before I know what I’m actually trying to sort out here. It’s got something to do with being in a training class with mostly strangers for weeks on end while we learn a job I’ve already done (but that time without the training!). Unfortunately I’ve got a lot of time left in this situation to figure it all out. At least when things settle down I’ll get a window seat. Small pleasures.

The original July playlist feels unresolved so I put together another. The summer vibe expands.

Our paper making saga continues! I’m learning more with each sheet and it’s beginning to feel intuitive.

And truly, the garden is giving back in so many ways …

I’m trying to figure out how I could make an actual career out of garden things. What’s really viable in a place with a 3 month growing season? If you need me, I’ll just be over here dreamin.

The house and yard are great and it is a privilege to be on this super stolen land. It’s just … I’m ten months in and it still doesn’t feel like a home – just visiting at best. I’ve painted. I’ve built in shelves. I’ve arranged and rearranged. I’ve dug up literally everything that was possible to dig up and replaced it with a garden perfectly curated to my needs and tastes.

It is the nicest place I’ve ever lived, while growing or grown, there’s no denying that. But when I had thought of myself in my first or forever home, it shared aspects of my childhood houses. Over 100 years old, seasonal shifting (with specific creaks for each one) and constant drafts swiftly made up for by the dry heat of the wood stove. The character, the artistry, the depth and history. I loved joining the fabric of that. Your house as your biggest and life long art project. You opened the door to a meadow with flowering bushes so expansive they felt like they could swallow you whole (the country version of the wardrobe). I get overwhelmed when I consider what I’ve given up to get here. And … where am I.

I’ve been thinking a lot about where I want to be or have wanted to be and the path I’ve taken to get/not get there. It seemed clear for so long. Rural life, greenhouse(s), chickens, three goats named after the Beastie Boys. Early mornings and relaxed sunsets after full days. Children. Community. It’s hard not to question working full time for a giant corporation to afford a (next to) downtown mortgage for just two humans (and an excellent dog).

The path to that dream life held heaps of hurdles, more than I can count or recount. I easily admit to having to have a reactionary or defensive response for many years rather than being able to be deliberate with selected directions. I know that I could be happy almost anywhere I’d land (and that is a skill), but now that I finally have the agency to make real choices and to authentically choose those choices … I feel at a bit of a loss. I guess it makes sense for me to question everything now that I could really do anything. And that my first questions are directed at the job that’s opened up such financial security/possibilities/shackles.

Guess I’ll make some art about it. It’s never the wrong time to celebrate what remains.

I forgot my Sunday post! Well!

I took the weekend off work to attend a willow weaving workshop. I am filled with many regrets but also now have some neat willow stuff so … I guess we might call it even.

The peonies bloomed! Shouldn’t this have fixed everything?

I bought a dozen plants, shouldn’t that have fixed everything?

Also I made some paper…

July Playlist … the vibe is gettin weird in here.

The days blur together now but I swear I took clear notes!

Walks in the woods

Time at each beach

“If we were in love, I’d ask if you wouldn’t mind stopping the car up here … ”

And landscapes that always delivered

June is a flash of light. All the waiting for nice weather and a garden in full swing has given way to just that, in the blink of an eye, so swiftly that it feels like I’ve missed my morning alarm. I’m grateful but completely thrown.

I must make some big decisions soon about the materials I want to use for my gallery submission after that residency. Mild paralysis mixed with full on dread.

I’ve been fern hunting in Odell while catching the sunrise over that ridge as often as I can convince my lazy morning body to move, with the bug bites that come with experiencing those glories. There are a couple deadfalls where my tiny tent would fit perfectly and there is just enough sunlight peeking through the 200 year old hemlocks for a raised bed of greens to thrive. A flat of chickpea tins and a can opener could really make a home of it all.

The health issues dropped on me in February have resolved. It is time for some big steps forward and a guttural full body response to anything trying to drag me back.

It’s all Odell. After a new experience I like to pretend it never happened for a bit until I’m ready to reflect. Settling back into life. Seeing what comes up.

Art Residency: Day 1

A late start on my end due to having to plant sweet peas and scarlet runner beans, a lovely residency participant picked me up for the drive to Fundy. I had warned her about my tendency to over pack. I did not disappoint.

If you told me my excellent oTENTic roommate was related to Lily Tomlin, I wouldn’t blink.

She had a cabin across the beach that was nearly visible from the residency accommodations. It was handy for recharging all sorts of batteries and making meals. I did not use my camp stove at all. One adventure at a time, I guess.

The first day remains a bit of a blur, getting situated/feeling out of place.

The curator from Conversations was the first presenter and she got everyone to read excerpts from their private applications off a power-point to the entire group and then hear feedback on possible directions for their work. The critique on mine was content-less and it made me feel like that was because I haven’t produced anything worthy of commentary. Greetings Devastation.

We did a nice walk through the woods in the pouring rain, talked about inaturalist and then settled in for the night. During the day I took a lot of notes which I am now avoiding. This post could really be point form. Feeling really Exit Stage Left here.

June Playlist

After publicly proclaiming I was done with making jewelry, my garden produced these miniature daffodils (you know, from when I panicked a week before the first autumn 2018 snowfall and planted 200 bulbs). They obviously need to be preserved for posterity.

I assume my next post will start “After publicly proclaiming I would be able to turn these into earrings …” Still unsure of how I’ll make it work. Dreamers gotta dream. Next show is June 1st. Just keep working.

I’ve been focusing on gardening and preparing for my week long art residency in Fundy National Park. As someone who dates outdoorsy people and rarely travels alone, I have limited equipment/supplies. Doing many googles.

Sugar snap peas, nasturtiums, borage, sweet peas, mustard, beets, onions, spinach, bachelor’s buttons, sage, poppies, swiss chard, carrots and arugula were directly sown. Room was left for beans! Zinnia! Purslane! Sun flowers?

While a few new daffodil types are opening every few days, not a single one of the wide array of tulips has begun peek out. It has been Cold! Gray! Non stop rain featuring snow/frost! Just generally awful. Today is paternal grandmother’s date of birth and it’s been ten years since she passed. This is the first time I haven’t had a full bouquet from my garden to bring to her grave to mark the date. While I certainly am feeling lousy about it, it would feel worse to overcompensate with store bought. Hopefully in a few days I’ll be able to correct this unpalatable error the weather created and leave something to warm my beautiful grandfather’s heart on his morning visits.