New Year's Changes

I just got back from the last trip I have to make to the Doctor in 2008. I am amazingly well considering the alternatives. Blood pressure is great. Eyes are just showing signs of allergy not serious sight problems. Inflammation is easy to deal with. Attitude is good. Full cancer work up in a few weeks and then done for six months. It is becoming so much less important to life.

Susan and Georgine's deaths have taught that no one has a lot of time to waste. Bruce Elkin reminded me that little tasks done consistently turn into great big accomplishments.
So I am starting the new year with a clean house, a clean bill of health and clean sheets. This works well for my fetish, which includes a soft, red flannel nightie, cocoa, clean sheets and good company. The company is very good this year and looks smashing in his red long johns! I have tried and tried but he won't wear the nightie or even the red flannel night shirt sewed for him.
We have discovered a cocoa nog chai latte just by splooshing things together!

I had to turn invitations down this New Year's Eve. Haven't had to do this for a few years. I am booked up socially for the next few months and this is now more like pre-cancer life. Can't take energy for granted, however, and will preserve far more time than before. New words for the coming year are savour and enjoy!

Lovely Hilary is staying in the studio. She is smart, talented, funny and considered.

Michelle Sirous Silver is working in the studio right now for the next little while. She is a rug hooker and needs a place to work for a little while. I'd love to have a larger studio and have all kinds of amazing people around but space is a bit tight right now with incoming projects. We will have to just lend her the studo when we can. She would certainly be a lovely person to have around.
Work is now coming together for the spring and summer. Sketches and plans are getting made. Themes are being explored and opportunities are showing up in large ways. Collaborations are forming and the possibilities look very bright and enticing.

I can't wait for the New Year to start! Happy New Year everybody!

Booge Woogie Christmas

The best Christmas! Most of my children and their spouses arrived safe and sound. There was a hole where Dane was supposed to be but we were all glad he was safe an warm in house in Winnipeg.

So dinner guests included a female Indiana Jones, a rebel city planner, our own real bar tender, an actress, an avalanche rescue specialist, paramedic, an oncologist, two artists and a dog named Rat.

Food was served all day.The piano was armed by the onclogist who plays a mean boogie woogie and the city planner who has a wicked baritone. I did a mean version of my hog hollar and the actress did a perfect Morrocan mountain call. Rat got terrible gas and cleared the place twice until she was banished to the van.

The snow is now hip deep and almost impossible to walk in. More like heavy whip cream.
Tim and Chris, of course, have decided to go sailing in the morning. What? I'll throw a bucket of ice water at them if they like.

There no drama at dinner. Unbelievable for this mob.

Everything is now cleaned up and I'll use the next few days for stitching. Have been saving antique French linen for the occassion. Time to load up with movies and books.

P.S. My neice gave me a flower labeled in English and Latin. It is a wild flower from near I grew up. Called wild shooting star. G. G. Adams would be thrilled.

Sheet Ice

The streets are either ice ruts or sheet ice. I ventured out after Christmas cleaning and navigated in he bright, snowy sunlight with my faulty eyes and balance. I couldn't find my pickled herring anywhere. All I can say is that it wouldn't be the holiday without baba ganoush, spicy olives and turkish delight.

More baking tonight. Will make Irish gingerbread and proper shortbread and real sugar plums.
A version of rumballs will be attempted.

Best news is that they have now managed to repair the Winnipeg house and Dane will be back in it for Christmas Eve! Wish he was home but am happy that he will be safe and warm.

Unitarians

The best part about being Unitarian is that I get to celebrate everything if I choose. Tonight I choose Hanukkah.

Tonight I am going to a second night Hanukkah party with a whole range of people from Jews to Anglicans. I love latkes, apple sauce and sour cream. I love candles and Mogan David (if you don't count the night we stole and drank a huge bottle from Darryl Nagler's parents when I was 15. I still gag at the thought!)

We once missed a Hanukkah party when Brendan was 9. He made us light candles after he made a makeshift menorah. "Tradition is tradition!" he explained.

I am not quite sure about Unitarian traditions other than lighting the chalice, peace marches and arguments.

Figgy Pudding

No escaping. I am it! Most of my children will be here for the holiday. Therefore I will get into the spirit of a creative holiday.

Parcels have been shipped to my family and Tim's family and a few friends. Shortbread and Almond Roca are being cooked and Tim is steaming his Christmas Puddings from Great Granny Waddington's recipe from Haworth, England.

There is still no heat in Winnipeg, gas electricity and water are turned off and a new storm front is blasting all across Canada. Dane and tenants are now safely housed in hotels.

All I can do now is cuddle up to my sweety, drink hot chai with Baileys or mulled wine and look out at the beautiful snow. Ahhhhh!

Mulled Wine Recipe

1 bottle of red wine
1/2 cup apple cider
1T orange peel
3 cinnamon sticks
1t ground cloves
1/4 t ground nutmeg
candied ginger to taste
allspice berries about 10
1 oz. brandy
1/3 cup honey (I like mountain wild flower)

Throw into the crock pot on low and wait for about an hour.

Make the above with no alcohol if you like by not adding the wine and brandy and substituting a carton or a quart of apple cider (non- alcoholic).

Santa

Yes Virginia there is a Santa Claus!
He came in the form of a ferocious insurance adjuster named Brett and his side kick, Mr Hard Ass the lawyer!

They listened to our tale of rack and ruin and leaped into steeley eyed action in less than one hour. The lawyer had decided to greet the sales rep who was sent to intimidate my son and tenants into claiming responsibiity for all the damage the contracters made.

Inspectors swarmed the place, made business licenses appear, etc.

My exhausted son and husband were assured that not only would the work be done properly but damage would be repaired in a timely manner or the best, most expensive journeyman
would be called and charged back to the culprits.

Don't mess with me! I'll pull out my cancer card and show you how many heros come to my rescue.

Now back to my creepy little sock monkeys!

Outhouse

I was toilet trained in an outhouse at 40 below! I am a tough woman.

Circumstances have illustrated the "Butterfly Effect" this week. The "Butterfly Effect" is a theory that something as small as a butterfly flapping it's wings can have an impact on wind currents throughout the world.

This week has been awful. Last Wednesday my husband's first wife died after a terrible and long illness. My step children and the whole family are deeply sad. On Thursday a small washing machine connection pipe dislocated in my house in Winnipeg. The persistent water flooded the basement and drowned the motherboard on the furnace. The furnace turned off in incredibly cold outside temperatures. The furnace repairmen came to fix it. Next morning the heat wasn't on yet and they returned to discover the thermostat fried during the night. The house got so bitterly cold that the tenants fled to warmer houses and my son trundled on waiting for repair people. He left to warm up and returned to a house smelling of gas despite turning of everything. He went into the basement and gas was bubbling up.
The repair people returned and an argument ensued about how the work that had not been done properly. My son told them to protect the motherboard whih was moved when the ceiling pipe burst on everyone. Second motherboard destroyed. Pipes started popping.

To make a long story short. The house is now evacuated. My son is now sick with the flu. He failed hs exams. The tenants are homeless. One of them is now on suicide watch. The insurance are arguing responsibility.

We are all doing amazingly well despite all this crap! Everyone in our litle family is figuring out how to help. Money is being pooled. New homes are being sought. Pop bottles are being collected.

We might not be able to fix the house now until spring. We are also checking to see if the new apartment next door wants it for a parking lot.

My children and I may be whiny but we are resilient and tough. All trouble passes with time and effort. We are very creative people and can think our way out of this. We work hard and don't get stuck in the detals. Things don't alway happen the way you expect them to but change happens whethr you want it or not.

Change is what you make it.

I am going to see if I can put my mendng skills together on some pipes.

Wasps Nests

Brie and I finally connected in the studio yesterday. She is one of my beautiful neices. She is also an artist.

We had the best afternoon digging through old boxes and storage tins. She found my more precious possesions and clearly shares some of my visual passions. We are both texture fiends and are attracted to the darker side of beauty.

How wonderful to share an appreciation for lichen on sidewalks , botanical fossils, gorry bits, old lizard skins, wasps nests and worm eaten wood. We both love bugs and bones. We both get visually lost in texture and surface possibilities.

She said something that chilled my blood. "I need people to touch my work so they will understand it." This must be a genetic thing. All this touching. I always invite people to touch my work and explain that they won't understand it unless they touch it!

I asked her where she would most like to live in the world. She wants to live in an old stone cottage in France where she lived a few years ago. I, on the other hand, want to live in an old stone cottage I found an hour from Paris. Looks like we wll need to explore this further.

I have always understood that we share an esthetic sense. I now understand how much we share in terms of processing and understanding of the world. I also shared much of that understanding with my Great Grandmother.

Brie is a wonderful painter. She is also a wonderful neice.

We walked up to Sweet Cheribum and had a late lunch. We chose the same thing to eat. Later we walked by a shoe store and lusted after the same pair of boots.

Fifty Below

I have crawled under the comfy and called it quits for today. I might stay here forever.

The worst week in a very long time.

My eye is infested. Or infected. My other eye isn't working. I know I don't seem to be dealing with stress very well and need to think about how to do it better or at least drink! I don't drink very often except for champagne if I get my hands on it.

Today was spent dealing with the furnace installation in Winnipeg. They came after three days of no heat. The pipes are now bursting. The weather is now below -fifty with the wind chill factor. The new furnace was installed by heroes today. They had to put in a new vent to the outside and ended up breaking drill bit after drill bit with the cold.

I am here in Vancouver and the weather here has dropped well below zero. We have snow and ice on the ground. New rodents decided to move into the roof with the cold temperature. They hold body heat and until it warms up they are welcome.

My insurance guy said Winnipeg isn't covered for this damage. Oh yeah!!! I just called an adjuster friend and she'll get this through.

The people in Winnipeg are amazing through this. They have showed hospitality to my tenants and my son. They are going to hold a "Social" which is a fundraiser to help people out. The musicians are getting together to help out. The whole wroks of them can take over my house for the next few days andhave the time of their life as far as I am concerned.

My step kids are now moving stuff out of their mom's home. Her cremation is on Wednesday.
They are amazing and doing so well. They are like my husband. Matter of fact and logical.

The Irish Newfoundlander part of me is shocked at the way English people do death. We always carry on, have a big party, fight, drink and do something outrageous. My Uncle was arrested at my Gran's funeral riding a horse backwards completely naked down the main street of her town. When Grampa died his mistress showed up and confessed to the shocked audience and Grandma had her thrown to the street. These people are far more Methodist than we are.

Wakes are the best parties we ever have!

Tomorrow is a new day nd I am going o the studio to meet Brie. She is one of my lovely neices. I will feed her and fuss over her and she will hopefully haul of some of my stuff. We will get to share techniques and play with new stuff. She is painter with textile sensibilities. She is just enterng her Master's program and is living in a brand new loft in Chinatown.

Sometimes tomorrows are better than todays!

Susan is Gone

Susan Smith-Hurley-Dufton was my husband's first wife and the mother to my incredible step sons. She passed away and I heard about it this morning.

Her children loved her very much. She gave birth to incredible children. She was formidable and incredibly hard working. She was also very intelligent. Her children share those traits.

She loved Christmas. Christmas was what she mastered at. No one could bake a better fruitcake or make better homemade mincemeat than Sue. She loved twenty foot trees and enormous piles of presents. She knew how to mix every drink going. She was incredibly tough, brass and bold. She could carry a tune.

She never got to see the birth of her first grandchild. Didn't get old enough to retire at 54.

I am much flimsier emotionally and physically. I didn't always fight hard and even passed into a place where I welcomed death. She fought tooth and nail with such amazing will. She fought to her last breath. Somehow I survived this hideous illness and she didn't. I was so much sicker than her in the beginning. Sick for longer. Less chance to survive. Something changed that. No reason really.

I promise to cherish her children. I love them deeply. Doesn't matter than she and I never became friends. I will let her grandchildren know her best qualities. They won't get to know them Hopefully they will get to know my best and worst.

Each day we get to live is a surprise. So are each lesson and gift others give us without meaning to!

Wet Bottoms

Sock Monkey from lennytaylor.freeyellow.com

Yesterday was one of those days that was eventful from morning to bed.

My son called and had a pipe burst in the house in Winnipeg. My furnace also shut off. It is a lovely big old Arts and Crafts house in an old neighbourhood in one of the coldest cities in Canada. It was really cold yesterday and pipes burst and furnaces blew out all over Winnipeg.

I have three students for tenants including my son. The house was in danger and we had to wait hours for a furnace guy. The tenants and Dane, all musicians, had to load up their musical gear and move it from room to room. Dane bundled up, tenants found others to stay with and the furnace guy showed to tell him that the water had completely damaged the mother board on the furnace. He charged $100 for the visit and left Dane numbers to call to check on the price of a new high efficiency furnace. The prices are a complete shock!

The van has to be removed from the road because it failed Air Care! My trusty old, haul all my art and let me sleep in it vehicle!

I spent last month purchasing new machines because I felt like I could squeak them by financially. Hah!
The converters look really extravagant now! So does the new camera!

So I know what I am getting for Christmas, New Years and the next few birthdays! A brand new efficient bouncing baby furnace!

Good news is that I found my favourite customer's phone number tucked in a pile of receipts from the CRAWL. He wanted to buy more of my art and has some microscopic pictures of cells to cheer me up. Maybe I can talk him out of his violet fedora.

The machines are all fired up now because everyone is getting something hand made or home cooked for gifts this year. The little girls all want sock monkeys and I have been resisting the pull to make sock monkeys with deformity, derangement and drool! Resistance is futile!

Grinchy

I am not a Christmas person. It seems to be a holiday wrought with hidden landmines.
I am appalled by the tacky excess assaulting me at every turn. How delicate and overly sensitive people are this time of year.

I used to work as a street social worker and an anti poverty organizer. The excess at Christmas drowned nearly everyone in sight. Organization lacking volunteers most of the year had them lined up forty deep for the holiday.

Couldn't the excess energy spent on making tinsel and turkey be better used lobbying government and building houses for all year? It is really nasty weather in February. It rains almost solid and is awful in October. People still sleep in my park in November.

Every year at least one excluded and left out person I knew decided that Christmas would be a symbolic time to off themselves. Almost everyone I knew was completely exhausted distressed and financially ruined in January.

This year it would be fun to find a compacter and gather up every christmas delight, crush it into a little solid block and offer it as housing materials for the homeless here. We could build whole cities with the stuff left over in this neighbourhood.

I used to cook celebrations for 20-30 people. Few of them were related to me. Last year I gave my loved ones to others as a gift. My partner went to be with his 95 year old father. That was his father's last Christmas living on his own. My son's went to girlfriends families and my stepsons went to be with their extremely ill mother. My step son Chris and Vashti stopped by Christmas Eve and delivered baking and practical goodies. Gayla, my Jewish friend, came by and fed me cicken soup to nurse me through a high fever and bad cough. I barely got off the couch.

Brendan and Megan want to do Christmas with me this year. Dane wants to come home. I want to go hide on a beach and drink myself silly. But I wont. I will probably make turkey and shortbread. Tim will be jolly and generous. Chris and Vashti will bake amazing goodies and Stephen will mysteriously and unexpectedly drop by.

The front o the house will have lights nad a wreath. The back of the house will have a beacon that says, "bah humbug", a feeder for the rats and little Santas all hung by their boots.
You can tell a lot about a person by the back of their house.

Chickens

Tim was home sick for two days. Poor thing just lay on the couch and moan. The moaning usually started when I entered any room he was in. Now I am feeling sick. Not terrible but just enough to let me know what well feels like.

This was probably a good thing because it forced me to settle and do a little research nd dig out the rest of the laundry. I also cooked buckets of soup. Soup always makes Tim stop whining.
Clean sheets help too.

He decided that he wanted to leave Vancouver and raise chickens again. He wanted to move to Alaska and do this. His life, he says, is getting meaningless. I know he is sick. Two days ago he loved his job. He was thrilled at our family and loved his new involvement in sculpture and design. Nothing can be more unpredictable than a plus fifty man with a runny nose and back pain. Sheeeessshhh!

I spent the day feeling decidely unartistic. More or less unhip and sloggy. Kinda older and used up. I really just spent the day fighting for couch, bed covers or the remote.

Vivian called and we further designed the underwater costume. I can even teach her how to do things by telephone. She is truly amazing.

Once I taught a "hot textiles" class and one of my enthusiatic students threw a smoldering sample into a bin of other fabric. We ended up smoking out the school, the administration staff and half killed the other students. Lesson learned " Always seperate your fabrics and leave them in front of you near your personal bucket of water."

I need a hot toddy but breast cancer people aren't really supposed to drink so I'll just make some tea. Tea with a shot!

Floating Things

My beautiful and talented niece, Brie, was supposed to show up for a little holiday tea at the studio yesterday. I forgot to confirm with her and she forgot to phone. We ended up having to postpone until next week.

I sat there with the organic, vegan holiday lunch looking at me when Vivian Bauman arrived bearing a delicious fruitcake and tea.

Vivian has been working as a costumer in both film and theatre for a few years and has skills that make me drool. She is also a "Prairie Girl" and has a wicked but subtle sense of humour.
She came to share some ideas she is exploring for costumes for an underwater scene.

I had the best time as we sat an played with ideas, alternate possibilities, materials and some of the more simple extreme techniques. She had already burnt edges in the most delicate way. Tidy, perfect and precise. She presented little ribbons of samples, all in white, that made it easy to see what else could be done. Possibility after possibility showed up in no time.

She showed me how to make a green screen suit. Green screen suits are used as invisible costumes for animation. The green doesn't show up when filmed with appropriate filters or something. Beautiful face masks, body suits and long gloves. Completely elegant but like some kinksters super hero costume. She always adds a little nasty bit like an extra ear, horn or tail nub or something to keep the crew a little more amused.

There is nothing like communicating with another creative person who shares a language. Each of us has very different skills but can talk textile without skipping a vowel. So I spent a productive afternoon with wonderful company and got to learn to use a thimble properly.

Thank you so much support that people sent me regarding the writer trauma. It was very appreciated!

Last Post

I have removed the last posting from my blog because on reflection and further information from said writer I decided it wasn't fair.

I still feel some of what I felt. Recognizing myself and incidents I experienced with a special person was completely unnerving. He was decent and brave enough to contact me and ask questions about my feelings. Cads do not do that as a matter of habit. They are not usually confused by the reaction of their victims. They are not sensitive and also hurt by the response.

I was also reminded that as an artist I have used images and photographs of him in a very exposing and explicit manner and he didn't always like what I did with his image. He trusted that I would be responsible with inspiration I used that was about him.

Making art and writing really are so very similar when it comes to inspiration and process. It takes hard work and persistence to get it done. We are as vulnerable as our muses when our work is viewed and criticized. We are vulnerable when we offer ourselves up for creative exchange.

Trust and communication are such a huge part of the shared creative process, perhaps even more than with ordinary friendship or work. Dealing with delicate and human motivations as a subject matter requires a mature objectivity. The writer and I agreed to use one another as inspiration a long time ago now. It was an obvious connection because we just work that way. With lots of struggle sometimes. Hopefully with a strong ethic and little inhibition.

Karma is an interesting concept. It works in more than one way. Like all consequence it works on layers and is multi directional. Karma isn't revenge for a "bad" action or a reward for a "good" action. I wonder how Karma works when there is more than one person involved?

Things are never just black and white. Like with colour, we need to define our recipes and palettes. We also need to accept that sometimes accidents and rips happen. One day a disaster the next one of the most inspiring colours ever.

Getting It Done

I seem to spend so much time imagining what I could make rather than making it. Sketches aren't making something and neither is talking about it. Celine and I had tea last night and we talked about motivation and imagination. We also talked about future projects and possibilities. This went well with ginger cookies and shortbread. It has been more than a year since we met. She came to me just before the last Culture Crawl and asked me to be the first show in her new gallery. Numen Gallery. It was the best experience I have had with a gallery. The process of imagining and setting up the "Wonderland " show was so much fun. We worked until very late at night for a couple of days and spent time imagining other work. Scott, Tim Celine and I worked like a smooth machine. We were all very compatible while getting the set-up done. Almost like old friends but immediate. Celine and I just can't seem to talk for a few minutes. A fifteen minute planned meeting will go on for hours. Hours never seem like enough time. Every discussion is productive and something new gets tried or explored. I revealed my experiments with the large fibreglass balls. They sat on the floor like mushrooms or back lit beings and she saw them immediately. Her response to them was perfect. I was so afraid to show them but they are nearly finished now and the small sized samples just doesn't show the quality of them. Sometimes showing new stuff that is important to me at a "dog and pony" show doesn't give me what I want. Hearing about how amazing my work is is great. Hearing that it is awful is also just great but I want trained evaluation and criticism every once in awhile. Celine has the curatorial skills to do that. She can dig into my work and show me what I can't see. Her suggestions for improvement are almost always helpful to my practise. Encouragement from Celine helps get the work done.

Later That Day

I have been struggling with colour breakdown and analysis all day. I have training as a precision dyer and all skills, even the rusty ones, are needed today. What percentage of blue, grey green, black, rust, orange, violet and yellow make up the varigations in lichen. How much Ivory, and scarlet is required in a yard of cloth that will be melted and further broken down, Transfer dyes, paints or vat dyes? At what point do the applications get done? Burn first? Dye first? Paint before and after for a more distressed effect? What about the emulsions? What percentage of pigment will give the most ashy appearance? What temperature will work before and after? Iron, torch, boil or heat blast? How ill the devore chemicals effect the mixed cloths. Where is my old calculater? I relate to it more than the glowing screen. The glowing screen keeps track of all the information in a much more efficient way but it means changing old habits. The computer doesn't work well near the dye tub! Solved some of the problems with old distressed and burnt cloth. Now for the thread mixes and colouring. All this while still trying to clean up in here. Craving food only food cooked in this kitchen. Still trying to accomplish the large cocoons and pupae. They are sitting in the corner awaiting care. Beautiful turquoise leather is rotting away in a rusty pan bringing out unexpected colours. The rest can now be wrapped around the old stove pipe from Britannia Beach now.

Breath in...Breath out!

Sleepless in East Vancouver

Prairie Lichen Photo Stephen Langton Goulet (my ex-husband and father of my son Dane)

Late at night is a favourite time to do visual research. No one ends up interupting. No phone calls, no drop-ins, no meals to prepare. I have to be quiet so reading, looking and a little hand stitching are about all that can be done. I am alone now more than ever. No full time job after years of working but not retired for a few years yet. No children at home for the next while and a very independent partner. I work from home, my studio and also the van. Loneliness isn't an option. The street here is lively but there is a time between 3:00 and 5:00 am when almost no one is around except a few more interesting and larcenous creatures. I end up being the one on the street that catches them in the act of walking off with bikes, cars and plant pots. Never understood the plant pot thing but everyone loves a garden. Tonight no one is around except a black and white alley cat. Tim is snoring away in the background. I am up looking at photos of lichen on bark and pulling together a sample book for a meeting with a new curator. Tomorrow night I reveal my large resin globes to Celine from Numen Gallery. They are dry now and are ready for the next application when inspiration strikes. Some are also being weather tested. We will make more of them in different sizes. The photos of my pupae nest didn't turn out and I can't find the number for the man who bought them. He wanted to contact me about buying another work so maybe a photo can happen then. Observation. People who buy the globes , pupae and nests cradle them as they carry them away. Like pets or babies only kinda funny lookin'...

New Breath

Rain Forest Path Shannon Falls 2008 Tim Hurley

tree lichen Porteau Cove 2008 Tim Hurley

Lichen Britannia Beach 2008 Tim Hurley

The physical realities of the landscape nearby is astounding. My lungs are still full from the balsalm air taken in this weekend. I spend so much time in this city but it is so beautiful 1/2 an hour out of town. The landscape is so extreme that it almost doesn't seem real. I am still astonished everytime I go and spend time in this amazing forest. My dreams are filled with lichen, mushrooms and mist. The rain on my roof last night was life affirming. Images of frailty and intricacy are everywhere in my thoughts. My direction is clear. There are still balance problems to deal with because these eyes aren't fully aligned yet. It is a bit like operating with the mirrors of a car not quite in the right position. Double vision hits about 10-15 feet away and makes navigating in forest paths a little challenging. My hunter gatherer abilities have been impacted. I need companions to help me with the scouting. But there are willing people who really like getting to play my eyes. It is fun to teach other people to look with my way of seeing. They do pretty well if I show them how. It is interesting to negotiate this challenge. I don't have any problem seeing close up. The microscopic and teeny weeny are draws. Stages of life and decomposition still fascinate. The small is so important because it was nearly lost. Today I am doing practicals like banking, bill paying and groceries. Later I hope to finish drawing out the lichen forms. The construction of them seems so simple. The palette has been decided. I like the one that exist in it's smoky grey greens and contrasts. Obsessing about the layers!