Step Eighteen: Swimming in the Ocean...

Dear Fi,

Since this is an illustration for Patti’s new book I won’t be able to tell you much about what is going on for this little fish here. If this little fish gets to the book, you might read the story for yourself, and if it doesn’t get to the book I can tell you which essay it supposed to illustrate. Deal?

Right now I can tell you that I am surprised that I decided to work on this call for artwork. It is one of those stories about how everything gets in to your way to make sure that you won’t have a chance to meet the deadline ha, ha.

Strange and good things are happening in my life lately... I feel like I am hanging somewhere in between two different dimensions again and cannot decide to which one I belong more. It is a really weird feeling. This feeling is telling me that I know what will happen but at the same time it is telling me that everything can happen so I really don’t know anything. This is why I behave ridicules lately.

I think that it has became apparent to me that I am able to trust myself, and that I began to hear my inner voice more clearly, and strongly. So I am following my intuition with more confidence. It doesn’t mean that everything goes smooth on this side of the ocean now (he, he). What it means is, that the shift allowed me to enjoy my journey. To get to this point took me so many years and I feel like it is just the beginning. It also means that I feel so blessed and that I learn to be grateful for everything (even though the last part doesn't come that easy).

It also means that for another 34 weeks you are hooked up to me and my various theories on “what is going on in my life” on this blog Dear Fi. You might not believe me but every time I write my post I imagine your face and think how disappointed you must have been by reading my words ha, ha!!! Seriously.

I don’t write about art, or about the process of creating my artwork, I don’t teach anything, I don’t even attach any interesting links. All I am doing is writing about myself... how busy I am, how tired I am, what I feel, what I think, and about all this inner crap happening in my life. I should have warned you better what you should expect from me but now it’s kind of TOO LATE.

And I cannot even promise you that it will change because I know that this part of me (who is writing these posts) was there since the beginning and it will be there to the end ha, ha.

So please, bear with me Dear Fi ;)

:*

Sylvia

P.S.
Now I wish to have something hysterically funny to say to end this post graciously... hm... hopefully in another lifetime ha, ha.

Step Nine: Finding a home for my soul...

Dear Fi,

Every day is a journey, and the journey itself is home.
Matsuo Basho

It’s 10:12 PM, and I just sat down to write this post. It took me until now to finish my project and unfortunately:
1. I have ugly photos because it is dark and gloomy ;)
2. The scan doesn’t look better because the buttons are too thick so the paper wasn’t flat.
I might came back tomorrow morning and replace these pictures. Would that be considered cheating? Ha, ha.

I planned something totally different for today. It was supposed to be a Magician’s Head on plywood, but it is a long story and I don’t have the time to go there today. While I was procrastinating my work on the Magician’s Head I checked on Lis’ blog and as soon as I read the title of her weekly reflection I knew that the head had no chance today. So “off with his head” I said and I went on a journey called “Finding Home”.

***

I was sharing my thoughts on immigration with a Wise Woman last year. During our conversation I discovered that I’m tired of repeating my story again and again. For the first time I realized that I have a “story”, and I’m not saying it in a positive way. I’m talking about my attachment to a particular story. The story goes like this: immigration is a difficult process, I couldn’t speak, nobody understood me, poor me blablablablabla bla bla blabla, but I was brave and look at me now balblablablabla... bla!

I decided to immediately end with this story, detach myself from it once and for good. So, I shared my golden thought with the Wise Woman and she was happy for me. But then she said, “It looks like you don’t feel at home”. I thought that she misunderstood me. I said that I don’t miss my country all that badly, and that I created a family here and...” It turned out that it was me who did not understand. The Wise Woman said, “I wasn’t talking about your home/place, I was saying that your soul doesn’t feel at home”.

***

Yes, she got me. It hit me very hard, even though I always knew that home is not a place, or not only a place, or that to say “I am at home” you don’t even need to have a home...

But there is a difference between knowing and feeling and between thinking that you know and truly knowing.

A huge difference.

So, I still search for my home, Dear Fi.

:*

Sylvia

{update}

Cheating or not I replaced the pictures. Now, since the sun is out I can even add this ;)

Step Four: Dreams and memories...

Dear Fi,

Right now I’m listening to Eddie Vedder’s Into The Wild. I have about 20 minutes before I have to  pick up my daughter from preschool, then I will have about an hour before I have to pick up my son from kindergarten. After lunch I will try to figure out how to manage my, lately neglected, studies. I also need to figure out what to cook for dinner. My husband will be back home earlier today because Amelie has dance class and Bruno has piano lessons on Tuesdays and I cannot be in two places at the same time (not yet ha, ha). After the dance class I won’t come back home, as I usually do, but I will spend about 2 hours in line with other parents from my community, trying to sign up my daughter for the next year of preschool. The registration ends at 8 PM, it takes “only” two hours because it is for the children who are already attending the program. Ah! isn’t this exciting?

I remember three years ago, when I was signing up my son for the first time. The registration started at 5PM, however the rumor was that the year before people started to line up at 9 AM. My husband didn’t go to work that day. I decided to be there early because I had no other choice of preschool. I was at the community centre at 8AM and already number three. People who came at noon were told to sign up to a waiting list. I was sitting from 8 AM until 5 PM in a small room with the other determined parents who were lucky enough to be able to take time off from work, or to find somebody to stay with their kids while they spent their whole day waiting.

Fi, I have no idea why I’m writing about all of this to you... ha, ha! Probably because it is that time of the year when, if you have a child, you need to make plans and decisions for the coming September. And I just cannot imagine my September right now! I don’t know how other parents deal with their work and the schools. My husband works, I will start my practicum this September, and as of now I have no one to help me with dropping off and picking up my children to and from Grade 1 and preschool. And of course the school is in a different community, and starts at different hours, and I have no clue where my practicum will be... I know... sounds so boring, but this is the part of my life I’m dealing with right now...



Also, I do not have much to say about today’s artwork. I actually worked on it yesterday because there was no way to do it today. It is an illustration for one of the chapters of Patti Digh’s new book. Actually, I hope it will be, there are a lot of other people engaged in this project and I have no idea if they will choose my artwork or not. I don’t know how much I can say about this project either. The only thing I can tell you for sure is the fact that the title of this post has nothing to do with the title of the chapter I illustrated. However, the artwork is my interpretation of Patti’s title. I just tried to convince myself that if the opportunity for publishing my artwork presented itself right now it will be better to jump in instead of chickening out ;) So I hope that the last sentence of this paragraph covers at least the “dreams” ;)

My Dear, I don’t have much time to spend on explaining the “memories” part. However, I would like to share what is going on on my side of the world. I didn’t tell you this yet but memories of my grandmother started popping out since the beginning of our collaboration. At first I thought that it was because I started to use the needle again, and my grandma was a master of embroidery. I honestly don’t remember the very fact of being taught, but I have many memories of me and her in our old kitchen sitting together and working on our own projects. Doing creative things was so natural at that time. Actually... it was an every day task. While creating this piece for today's post I could see us so vividly in that old kitchen... Me, maybe six years old, doing my tiny Czech glass beads and her with an amazing patience and grace creating another breathtaking tablecloth...

You’ve asked me once about the colours. I said that I feel like I’ve always had a sense of colour. However, today I realized that ever since I can remember I was surrounded by the beauty of colours and patterns my deaf grandmother was creating every day. And in these silent moments of creating I feel like I connect with her, like we are both working to express ourselves again.

:*

Sylvia

Step Two: Something fresh...

Dear Fi,

I didn’t have any problems with starting my project today. Against my predictions I was quite relaxed and excited. I would say that the first post must have empowered me he, he. But no - my Dear - it is not why I did two pieces! The second piece is the effect of the crisis I had in the middle of the process.

The crisis? Instead of making a few sketches of different ideas floating in my head I started a spontaneous drawing. It shouldn’t surprise me, that soon I found myself in a trap of horror vacui, and you must know Dear Fi, that it was a very unpleasant discovery, and only the beginning of my troubles.

Even before I started this piece I knew that I wanted to use strong colours (as in my inspiration). However, after adding the second part to increase the empty space my mood switched to a totally different set of colours and I couldn’t decide what to do. I took a break. I went to dance class with my daughter, ate dinner and put my children to bed. Then I looked at my project and chose to stretch my comfort zone again. I decided to mix different moods/colours together and see what happens.

It is too bad that you cannot actually see the “true” colours, they changed slightly in the scanning process, especially the gold. Also, it is hard to see the details, but at least this is not a problem - just click on the picture and it will zoom in.

My Dear Fi, I have nothing more to say. Maybe except... that I wish I could write something more interesting and more coherent today, but I spent too much time on uploading these images properly to a blogger (I’m not sure if this is me, or the blogger is not the most user friendly). It’s late, and I’m tired, but at least I feel great. I feel great because it’s Tuesday and I did my part ;)

You know... I think that posting once a week is a good way to strengthen my self-efficacy ha, ha ;)

:*

Sylvia