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Women who journeyed before me

    I thought some of you might be interested to see the original photos I cropped to make the art piece for Monday’s Poetry Party.  The woman on the top was my paternal grandmother Erika who died when I was one year old.  The middle woman I actually don’t know, I found her photo among the others and loved the way she was looking at the camera.  She is connected to my family in some way, but it is still a mystery.  The woman in the bottom photo was my great grandmother, Erika’s mother Ernestine, but she went by Erna.  Erika and

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Courage Unparalleled

This journey of making art for Advent has been an illuminating one for me, as I take time to be with the images of people who are a part of my very lifeblood and discover how their stories are precisely my own story.  Sometimes this commitment of making art means just showing up and allowing whatever unfolds to happen, even if it doesn’t feel as done or revealing as some of the other art I have been making. Such is the case with the piece above, it is only a waystation to something else, but I decided that if I didn’t finish a piece one day,

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Advent Resource

I got a very gracious email from Jan Richardson, whose book Night Visions I highly recommended here a couple of weeks ago as my all-time favorite Advent resource.  She reported that she is now sold out and hopes to have it re-published by next year.  But she also shared with me an Advent blog she has created: The Advent Door — even more of her wonderful art and words for me to savor.  I’m looking forward to making a cup of tea and lingering there for a while.  So head on over for a visit, but before you do, make sure to

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Pilgrimage Staff

One day while walking along the shores of the Hood Canal near my hermitage I found a great big wooden stick. It was sturdy and the right height so I brought it back to sit with it for a while and ask how it wanted me to embellish it.  Often when I lead art programs I talk about art as being both tabernacle and pilgrimage — a sacred container and a sacred journey of discovery.  It holds the power of both.  I have wanted to have a staff and a small box as symbols of these energies of art.  At

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Invitation to Poetry: Waiting, Watching

Our 9th Poetry Party — what fun!  I select an image and suggest a title and invite you to respond with your poems, words, reflections, quotes, song lyrics, etc.  Leave them in the comments or email me and I’ll add them to the body of the post as they come in along with a link back to your blog if you have one (not required to participate!)  I’ll add your contributions all week and then I will draw a name on Friday again from everyone who participates and will send the winner a copy of my newest zine Callings. Feel free to post

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kindness of strangers, embracing the unexpected

I was driving down to the Priory yesterday morning for my Advent Oblate retreat when about 20 miles down I-5 my car started vibrating and I saw smoke pluming from the rear. I was able to get off to the side of the road and slowly drove off the next exit. I thought there was something wrong with the engine, but relieved to see it was just the tire that was flat.  However my cell phone was out of power and I had forgotten my AAA card, so I got out of the car and began to look in back to

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Self-Portrait

The photo in the piece of art above was taken of me at age nineteen, during my junior year in college. I had a boyfriend at the time who was into photography, especially black and white, and I still have several of the photos he took of me.  I think I find them striking because at the time I was struggling with my self-image and yet I remember feeling beautiful while those photos were being taken. For this creation I began with a piece of canvas paper and had painted it with some blue and silver acrylic similarly to yesterday’s stamp

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Awakening

Yesterday morning I awoke at my hermitage and stood in the kitchen to make some breakfast with my back to the window.  I eventually turned around and saw a small rainbow across the waters of the Hood Canal over the Olympics.  Leaving behind my food, I grabbed my camera and hurried down the steps to the beach. One of the readings last Sunday from the Christian lectionary is from the letter St. Paul wrote to the Romans.  This line has been lingering with me the last couple of days: “You know the time; it is the hour now for you to awake

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Divided

This photo is of my grandmother on my mother’s side.  The baby is my uncle and the little girl is my mother. My uncle is the only one left alive from this image. I can see a theme developing in my art already — I used a wooden board as a base, adhered white tissue paper with gel medium (I really like the texture), then cut the image up in pieces — I wanted to experiment with dividing a photo into separate parts.  This technique fits my grandmother well, as she was never a happy person.  In this photo I

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Waiting

Loving Advent Christmas is coming but Advent is here. A time of waiting – Not for gifts to open but for our very selves. Our hearts open slowly. We must wait and wonder. Something new will come out of the darkness. Let yourself sink into the unknowing. Bring a pillow, get comfortable. Waiting in Advent is like planting bulbs for the spring. -Pamela McCauley Pam was one of the participants at our Awakening the Creative Spirit program last month and a longtime reader of this blog and poetry contributor.  I love her poem about the waiting of Advent — “Not for gifts

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