Category: Grandmothers

Do you remember standing in a line in the school gym, with an index card over one eye, trying to read the chart with the big E on top?

I do! And I did pretty well on the test. What I had no way of knowing was that I wasn’t actually seeing the letters. I was memorizing what the kids in front of me said! And it helped that I could hear really, really well.

My 4th or 5th grade teacher ratted me out. And I discovered that, with a pair of sturdy (read that ugly) glasses, I could see individual leaves on trees! And I could still hear really, really well!

What I didn’t know back then was how much our brains have to do with what we think of as seeing and hearing. Also, feeling… as in touch and movement and emotion.

Now, as the old story goes, I know more!

It was pretty strange for me, at first, to begin to hear the paintings whispering in my sleep, but I’ve gotten really comfortable with that by now. (Which, as you’ve probably guessed, is just as well since the walls are covered with a whole choir of whispering images!)

Another thing just shifted for me, though. I realized that all those voices – each in their own way – are actually my voice, filtered through various experiences and wounds and dreams. And I wouldn’t blame you if you might be thinking that I sound a wee bit like I’m headed for the place known as round the bend.

Instead, I’m headed for more fully me! And, as I move my fingers to make these words appear in the land of WordPress, I keep glancing up at a sign hanging above the door to the hall, across the room from my chair.

And our stories – yours, mine, all of ours – do matter. They are some of the filters through which we experience the world. Through which we form questions and create things.

I had a really big experience of that today! The first pdf layout of my new book appeared in my email! And, even though I chose all the words and created all the art, it was still a surprise in its externalized form! A whole, if you will, instead of a bunch of individual pieces. (And, yes… there’s more work to do!)

My dear friend, and first reader, Natalie, put language on what I was feeling!

It feels like holding a newborn infant!

And, it does!!! A whole, separate, unique individual with multitudes of ancestors and traditions, complete with a whole batch of needs… and, frankly, what feels a lot like expectations!

Final choices on fonts, and re-sizing some art, and rounding up reviews and all the things that we book-parents do…

And, no… it’s not To Kill a Mockingbird. (Though it might grow up to be!)

What it is, in this moment, is the very most I have to offer to all the Metamodern Littles growing up in our world, now… and to the adults who love them.

Complete with some invitations to listen deep and imagine!

My dearest hope is that it will help us all travel the mountains and valleys of this world, and to make space for more and more of us to feel at home and to hear our own voices in the midst of the din!

ps… the painting at the top is a glimpse of the cover art for the book-baby!

pps… this glimpse of a painting is shorthand for the absolute best thing I know. I’m ready to share… and we have to start with ourselves!!! Just ask the calendar elves to hook you up!

There’s a room in our house known as The Dressing Room. The builder, in 1962, would have told you it’s a bedroom. And it is, in the sense of a place for welcome guests to sleep. Mostly, though, it’s my closet. And, no… I’m not taking a picture. (Yet!)

It’s also a metaphor. A power-full one in this moment! You see, I’m sorting. Intentionally!

And, yes… Daphne is modeling part of the change. Let’s talk denim vests. Or, in my world, purses! You see, most days I need at least one hand for walking. Sometimes, two. And that makes purses complicated. Also, my shoulders are not fans of the backpack option. So, for a while now, it’s been denim vests.

They have lots of pockets. And they’re happy to hold my omnipresent Good Trouble buttons! And blue or black denim goes with all the internalized rules I’m only beginning to be conscious of.

Here are a few…

• Don’t call attention to yourself. It isn’t safe.
• Don’t wear too many colors at once. You’ll look crazy.
• Everything should match your shoes.
• Blending in is more important than being comfortable.
• And, my personal fav, Preachers don’t…

You, clever soul, have already realized that I’ve been editing the rules for a while. And, in the context of this moment, I am making very conscious, intentional choices about nearly everything.

So, I went hunting for a statement denim vest/purse for this moment. (Tye dyed jacket from Etsy. And about an hour to cut the sleeves off and fray the edges.)

And, when you get right down to it, it kinda does go with everything!

It also starts conversations! Conversations which often conclude with me reaching into one of the handy pockets and giving away a spare Good Trouble button. I suspect John Lewis is smiling, too!

And, yes… my magical new vest goes great with Chucks and pearls!!!

I only get one vote. (Well, hopefully. That’s far from a sure thing in Georgia just now!)

I also have choices. And one of them, introverted as I truly am, is to wander around my ‘hood looking like an openminded, engaged Fiercely Compassionate Grandmother, often spattered with paint!

And, I’m planning for an actual guest in a couple weeks, which means that I’m going to need to find the bed that’s in there somewhere, under spare weighted blankets and things to give away. I’ll never be a minimalist, but I am trying on the notion of being an Intentionalist!

Don’t you just love words???

My relationship with a current #wip painting is a lot like this. Less deciding what I want to have appear on the canvas. More seeing what I see and allowing viewers to see, too! Here’s a peek…

Officially, this one is becoming my #CuraArchetype painting. Which feels a whole lot like noticing that…

I AM my medicine basket!!!

Which is a bit like walking through the door in the back of C. S. Lewis’s famous wardrobe! And this, my friend, feels like a really good time for that! (Chronicles of Narnia…. The Silver Chair )

If you decide to head out on a similar path, wave at Puddleglum for me! We really are living his story in this moment!

ps… don’t know Puddleglum yet? Click here for the punchline!

pps… ready to claim yourself as your medicine basket??? Let’s talk! Just click here and the calendar elves will hook you up with 45 minutes, as my gift. You’ll want a cuppa, paper and markers, if they’re handy. (Hell, eyebrow pencils will work!) Oh, and a bit of red thread… real or imaginary!

ppps… there’s a book launch coming up! Stay tuned!!!

I just got an email from “somebody,” with a headline asking, Is preppy your style? and offering me a discount on wallpaper!

Short, predictable, answer – Not so much! – though I come from a long line of people who would probably have been comforted if I’d said yes…

Here’s the thing… I used to be really good at following directions. At meeting perceived expectations. At hanging safely in the middle of the pac. Now I know more!

The photo, above, is indeed the vision from the chair that makes things hurt less. Finished work, yes. Some just home from Scan Camp! And works-in-progress. I literally prop them there so they can whisper the next right things to me. The deep answers to what they want next.

And, they do!

See the one behind the sun and the moon???

She was kind of a pop-up with some unexpected requests. As far as the demo live-streams went, she was supposed to be an adventure in background. Many, many layers, which I love. Different art-sisters doing different things with brushes. (And fingers!) Kind of an unfolding mystery.

Mine, however, seemed to focus in on some older paintings that we witnessed as we began. Paintings by an Intentional Creativity® ancestor named Sue Hoya Sellars. Sue walked into her future very early in my journey with canvas and paint and possibility. I just know I would have loved her!

In this moment, the connection had to do with inner and outer consciousness, and crystals.

(That, dear heart, is a sentence I’ve never needed before!)

The group-art demos didn’t go as far as beings. My canvas insisted! The human-ly one in the center was intentional. The seal – or Selkie, perhaps – on your right, appeared as if by magic. And, well, then we needed another one.

With considerable inner dialogue, I have decided not to obsess over making them match! Related is close enough!

Then, I spent some time communing with the crystals in our home. The ones which insisted on helping with this adventure were amethyst and kyanite. (Tip! You can google something along the lines of amethyst energy and discover all kinds of cool things you might not have learned in biology class!)

This is where we were just before the kyanite began, on Saturday evening.

Here’s the exciting thing… I’m following directions from my consciousness-es! A concept which much of the world has attempted to shame and blame out of way too many of us!

And, for a whole lot of reasons, now seems like a really good time to learn to listen to myself. To ourselves. And to spread the word!

Here’s where my friend is, after amethyst joined the kyanite with a whole batch of magic prayer dots…

ps… it’s Graduation Day in Intentional Creativity® land! To celebrate, the elves have created a discount at FierceArtWithHeart! Save 15% off anything in the Wearable Art (Clothing) collection! Leggings, tank tops, a dress, even a new T-shirt! Sizes from 2T to 6X!!! Just use the magic code BackToSchool at checkout. And, if you’re ready to stock up, there’s an option to pay over time. (Special offer expires on Aug 12, 2024 @ 11:59pm EDT.)

You, dear soul, have already figured out why this story in this moment! And, depending on the particular folks who raised you right, you may have already met Aunt Gert… also known as St. Gertrude, the patron saint of cats.

Her story was not one I learned from Gramma Elsie, as I traced honeycomb shaped quilt pieces for her, with a pencil and a pattern made from a Cheerios box.

In fact, I’d bet this was not a story Elsie knew, though she loved stories like she loved quilts. You see, Elsie was raised right by a bunch of folks descended from a bunch of folks who got on a wee boat named the Mayflower and came to these shores to get away from the power structures of the people who did know about Aunt Gert and weren’t amused. And there were lots of stories that got buried. Intentionally.

I, however, have the advantage of questions, and buttons to push to help find answers.

Thus I discovered, while swinging from the branches of my on-line family tree a couple of years ago, a new Great Aunt, many, many generations back. Another of the handful of related Saints nobody ever mentioned.

Here’s what I first learned about Aunt Gert… She was born in what is now Belgium, in 626 CE. Like other women in her prominent family, she chose – with her mother’s help – to escape an arranged marriage of the politically correct and financially beneficial sort, and establish a monastery for women dedicated to living their faith and helping people.

Turns out, though, that there was more to the story.

When Gertrude was only 10 years old she was asked “if she would like to marry a duke.” Despite the power and wealth normally included in such deals back then, Gertrude – in a bold move – declined.

After Gertrude’s father passed on, her mother, Itta, worried lest her still teen-aged daughter be kidnapped for marriage so she shaved Gertrude’s head and built an abbey to protect her daughter. Eventually, that abbey – of Nivelles – became a double monastery where nuns and monks served together.

Pause for amazement!

Eventually, Gertrude served the monastery as the Abbess, though she spent her days caring for others and building hospitals and churches and she walked into her future at the age of 33 years. She was canonized soon thereafter.

What I learned just yesterday was that Gertrude was never officially named patron saint of cats, though the people she served considered her so. This was likely because, in the time of the plague known as The Black Death, cats were important in protecting people, especially the poor, from the rats which carried the disease. And Gertrude protected cats.

What I feel, as I read her story in the context of this moment, is that she was a fan of laying down beliefs which were not empowering! And I like to think of her having a presence something like my #Matrica painting, known as Liberating Lily.

This story also suggests that some of my tendencies in the direction of laying down limiting beliefs just might come from a long line of women who found hope in choosing to fill their Medicine Baskets with tools for change. Among the relatives Aunt Gert and I share are Saint Begga, and a couple of Saint Itta’s, all of whom were noble women, likely among the Beguine communities where women were permitted to own their property and make decisions about their finances!!!

And here we are, 13 or 14 hundred years later, in a world where the guys who think they’re entitled to make all the rules, are making fun of childless cat women. I’m all in for keeping that from happening in this world where my grandteens are trying really hard to grow up!

Matilda, whom you may have met lately, is on board!!!

She’s in charge of overcoming obstacles around here. You know… the path from here to the there where you are called! If you’re ready for some help along the way, let’s talk! Just ask the calendar elves to hook you up with 30 minutes. Our gift. You bring your dream, a cuppa, and some Red Thread, if it’s handy. We’ll come up with the next right thing. Really!

ps… I learned some of the newer parts of Aunt Gert’s story at catster.com in an article which was – ironically – updated yesterday!

pps… Aunt Gert and I are proclaiming that every day is cat lady day around here, even though we’re kind of more rescue Newf people. In fact, every day is strong people ready to make things better for all the people day!