I MAKE PRETTY THINGS...

(Photography by Tracy Hoggard)

"You were made by God's masterful hands - wisely designed, uniquely formed, caringly crafted.

You were made for God's glorious purpose - to know His love, to be His own, to express His heart."

~Roy Lessin~

(Photography by Tracy Hoggard)

My heart swells with joy every time I read this quote to think that I was blessed with one pinch of an attribute of the Creator, to work with my hands designing, crafting, and forming things that are my heart expressions of appreciation and love for Him.

(Photography by Tracy Hoggard)

Having the gift of creativity is sometimes a struggle for me.  While I try to use this gift to best of my often limited ability, its hard not to fall into the comparison game.  I have a friend who is gifted with teaching and a passion for bringing God's Word to life through story telling in her children's ministry.  She travels on missions sharing her heart and it is making such a difference in the world of faith.....and I make pretty things.

(Photography by Tracy Hoggard)

I know people who have started food banks to feed the homeless, those who work with college students training for missions, those write books and speak sharing hope and faith, those who have youth ministries, those who serve in homeless shelters, those who hold clothing drives, food drives, and are Christmas Angels, and the list could go on and on.....and I make pretty things.

(Photography by Tracy Hoggard)

These are all big responsible works that seem so much greater and make so much more impact and reach so many more people than making pretty things.  It is so easy to fall into the great than/less than trap and compare what you do to what someone else does.  I often have to remind myself of Exodus 31:1-5 where creativity is indeed a valid gift, "...given in wisdom, in understanding, in knowledge, in all manner of workmanship to design artistic works..."

(Photography by Tracy Hoggard)

This was really brought home to me this week when I received an email from someone who had purchased a piece of my jewelry.  She expressed such exuberant joy over having something one of kind that was unique to her with its hidden meaningful message in the text on the piece, known only between she and I.  She said this was a hopeful piece to her that she could wear and be reminded of God's love.  

(Photography by Tracy Hoggard)

I had no idea when I was designing, forming, and crafting this simple piece of jewelry that it could be used for His glorious purpose, a reminder to the wearer of His love for her and a blessing of the gift of delight and joy.   Wow!...and I make pretty things...lucky me!

(Photography by Tracy Hoggard)

The next time you are tempted to fall into the greater than/less than comparison trap just remember, YOU ARE one of the prettiest things ever made, wisely designed, uniquely formed, caringly crafted, by His masterful hands.  YOU ARE valuable and what you do matters whether it is big or small, loud or quiet, you are a most precious pretty person.....lucky you!

(Photography by Tracy Hoggard)

Blessings,

Sandy

I MAKE PRETTY THINGS...

(Photography by Tracy Hoggard)

"You were made by God's masterful hands - wisely designed, uniquely formed, caringly crafted.

You were made for God's glorious purpose - to know His love, to be His own, to express His heart."

~Roy Lessin~

(Photography by Tracy Hoggard)

My heart swells with joy every time I read this quote to think that I was blessed with one pinch of an attribute of the Creator, to work with my hands designing, crafting, and forming things that are my heart expressions of appreciation and love for Him.

(Photography by Tracy Hoggard)

Having the gift of creativity is sometimes a struggle for me.  While I try to use this gift to best of my often limited ability, its hard not to fall into the comparison game.  I have a friend who is gifted with teaching and a passion for bringing God's Word to life through story telling in her children's ministry.  She travels on missions sharing her heart and it is making such a difference in the world faith.....and I make pretty things.

(Photography by Tracy Hoggard)

I know people who have started food banks to feed the homeless, those who work with college students training for missions, those write books and speak sharing hope and faith, those who have youth ministries, those who serve in homeless shelters, those who hold clothing drives, food drives, and are Christmas Angels, and the list could go on and on.....and I make pretty things.

(Photography by Tracy Hoggard)

These are all big responsible works that seem so much greater and make so much more impact and reach so many more people than making pretty things.  It is so easy to fall into the great than/less than trap and compare what you do to what someone else does.  I often have to remind myself of Exodus 31:1-5 where creativity is indeed a valid gift, "...given in wisdom, in understanding, in knowledge, in all manner of workmanship to design artistic works..."

(Photography by Tracy Hoggard)

This was really brought home to me this week when I received an email from someone who had purchased a piece of my jewelry.  She expressed such exuberant joy over having something one of kind that was unique to her with its hidden meaningful message in the text on the piece, known only between she and I.  She said this was a hopeful piece to her that she could wear and be reminded of God's love.  

(Photography by Tracy Hoggard)

I had no idea when I was designing, forming, and crafting this simple piece of jewelry that it could be used for His glorious purpose, a reminder to the wearer of His love for her and a blessing of the gift of delight and joy.   Wow!...and I make pretty things...lucky me!

(Photography by Tracy Hoggard)

The next time you are tempted to fall into the greater than/less than comparison trap just remember, YOU ARE one of the prettiest things ever made, wisely designed, uniquely formed, caringly crafted, by His masterful hands.  YOU ARE valuable and what you do matters whether it is big or small, loud or quiet, you are a most precious pretty person.....lucky you!

(Photography by Tracy Hoggard)

Blessings,

Sandy

SPATTER...

Spatter:  To scatter or come forth in small drops or splashes; a small amount, a smattering

Winter has encapsulated everything in its icy grip here at the Quill...

Despite the bleak landscape and the little blankets of snow that refuse to melt...

Unexpected barely precept-able drops of joy...

 Are scattering forth and spreading themselves in small splashes...

 In the most Surprising and unexpected places...

 That catch one off guard and directly in the path of receiving a smattering shower.  

Droplets of blessings.  

Warmth to the winter of the soul.  

Sparkling beauty.

Spatter.

 

ANOTHER DAY OF LIVING...

 Eyes fluttering open as the edges of the dream world recede and reality sets in.  With only a few blinks the day already feels heavy or perhaps that was just my heart.  Move into the day I must, and so it is began again, another day of living loss. The grieving process is different for everyone.  I am not sure if it is better to have one great consuming loss or if it is better to be done over snippets of time like it is being experienced as my mother slips further from her former self a little each day.  I have experienced both ways now, each leaving an ache in the soul, a gaping emptiness that is never quite filled again.  A sigh escapes as I arise and move through my morning ritual.

The cool contact of damp wood on bare foot stills me.  Something is different.  A soft refreshing wind brushes feathery light kisses across my skin making it prickle.  My spirit lightens.  I breathe deeply the scent of damp earth and crisp clean air.  The woodlands call to me to come and explore.  I gratefully accept the invitation.

Standing in the beams of the morning sun, hair lifting on fingers of the breeze, I felt the elements waring for my favor.  Warmth and light make me lift my face, close my eyes, and savor the invisible contact of incandescence.  The sound of the wind is like the gentle whisper of "Shhh..." through its puckered lips blown across fingered tree tops, it stills my soul.   I give them equal attention as a small measure of peace slips around me like a light mantle.

I turn my back on the responsibilities of the day and simply walk away.  With each step I felt the restlessness in my spirit being sated.  I idly wandered along a meandering path in the east woods stopping to drink in deep breaths of sight and sound.  That is when I noticed the absence of the constant thrum that vibrates the summer air.  The cicadas had gone silent, no grasshoppers sawing a lazy summer tune, not even a peep from the peepers.  

 

Standing stock still, I watched a tree breathe.  Its lifeblood of sap coursed through its veins, a slight movement right then left gave it the appearance of the rise and fall of human breath as its barrel chested trunk moved in rhythmic motion at the brushing of the passing wind.

Along the ridge, over a rise, through the woods, along a deer path, where there was no path I continued my journey.  I thought of my inherit need to connect with nature in a tangible way.  It makes me feel grounded in a way that nothing else does.  It is my escape just as surly as it was my ancestors.  I take to the woods to seek reprieve from the oppressions of life as they did.  I find strength, renewal, peace, and shelter in this form or prayer, this aimless walking.  My trail too, is covered with tears.

Passage of time ceases to matter.  Destination does not need to be decided.  Thought can be fleeting.  Foot to earth is all that matters.  I stop.  There is a gift on my path...a downy feather, a message from nature to contemplate.  My ancestors believed that all feathers relate to the human spirit and its innate connection to the Divine.  A feather has the ability to lift, insulate, and protect against life's elements.  The symbolic meaning of a feather is to inspire us to soar to new heights.  This simple gift from nature was a symbol of reassurance, appearing in this difficult phase of life, letting me know that I am loved and watched over.  I am under His wings.

Lift of head, lift of heart, lift of lips in bow curved smile, I step homeward.  At the trail head amid a blanket of coppery decaying leaves is one brilliant spot of color.  Riddled with rays of lemon and orange radiating to  ruby red center is a setting sun rooted to the earth.  Its brilliance against the dull backdrop makes me gasp.  

 I have glimpsed the intricate beauty of life this day, sadness and sorrow, past and present, life and death, the natural world and the celestial one, all interconnected.  I return with renewed vigor to the chirping of the phone, and so it is begun again, another day of living...

WHAT'S ON THE WORK TABLE AND ON MY MIND...

Over the last couple of days I have been trying to find my creative groove again. Taking care of my mother has begun to take its toll on me. The studio has sat in a state of nauseating cleanliness for weeks now without me even stepping through the door. My body has been tired, my mind numb from the weight of decisions being made, and my heart is battered from the range of emotions that come with watching the sickness and suffering of a loved one. I have been weaving my way in and out of my days trying to absorb each new event or each new piece of news...

One of the conditions my mother is suffering from may be genetic. I am told I may also be carrying the deformed gene. If I am tested it may help to identify if is in fact genetic or a mutation. I don't want to know (maybe someday but not today), it really does not matter, it won't change the changes in my mother. Over the last two weeks we have watched her slip into what can only be described as insanity. I keep wondering if I am getting a glimpse into my own future. I wonder how many layers of my life will be stripped away until there is nothing left of me but an outline of who I used to be...

With these things on my heart and mind, yesterday, I was able to briefly step into the studio pulling out paints and textiles to feel my way back into that creative groove. I lost myself in layers of comforting colors brushing and weaving my worries away. For a small span of time my fears receded, my worries ceased, I was at peace. Somehow my messy life seemed to come to order...

A little bit of normal went a long way to sooth my aching soul. I don't know when I will be able to cross the thresh hold of creativity again, maybe not for days, maybe not for weeks, but I will take comfort in knowing it is there waiting for me as familiar and comforting as my mothers arms have always been. I won't forget how either feels or what each means to me. Life may be a little sideways at the moment...

I may not be able to spend much time here with you, dear friends, visiting, commenting, or even posting but I wanted you to know that you have been on my mind and how much I appreciate your kind thoughts, prayers, and loving support during this difficult time. May God's best blessings be yours.

BITS AND PIECES...

bit/bit/

Noun:

A small piece, part, or quantity of something

  piece/pēs/

Noun:

A portion of an object or of material, produced by cutting, tearing, or breaking the whole.

Life at the Quill is being lived in bits and pieces at the moment.  Portions of normality are being cut away like the cropping of a photo.  Other parts are being torn away by the ravages of disease.  On the whole it is heart breaking but somehow in the forming of my being I was blessed with an indomitable spirit of seeing beauty and blessings beyond my present circumstances.  For this small gift I am eternally grateful.

Snapshots of true life are not always images that are considered mainstream beauty.  They are, however, a part of the bigger picture, a portrait of life art.  Landscaped layers of seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, and years make up a living canvas unique to each person who lived them.  

Each stroke of times brush leaves its indelible mark that is not able to be forgotten or removed.  I find the most beauty in these life story pictures, even the ones that are not fairy-tale happy endings, they make an impression on me. They show me that I am not walking a lone strand through life... 

 

In my own tangle of trials... 

 

We all have them, they just have different titles and sometimes we crisscross paths with others who are walking the same landscape as we are...

We form a common knot of kinship for bearing the same stories...

 

There is great beauty in making a connection with another person.  Born alone, our life strife's chain us down physically, mentally, and emotionally...

 

To the point that stress can weather, age, scar, and fracture...

I choose to look beyond the brittle...

 

And the barren...

 

To that open gate...

 

Where empty little cubbies of happiness are waiting to be filled...

 

With the colors of living breathing beautiful life experiences just beyond the present trail.  Life itself is a beautiful exquisite gift, no matter the shade of circumstance whether grim gray...

 Or sunny yellow...

 

 It is always, no matter what, a growing green fragrant gift...

To be savored and appreciated.  At this moment in time I savor and appreciate the extension of kindness and friendship of community that each of you provide.  You thoughts and prayers are much coveted and they add sunny yellow to my present days.  You are each gifts that enrich the landscape of my life adding touches of color through shared stories, experiences, smiles, and friendship.  Thank you for being a part of my painting!

 

 P.S.  I will be away a bit longer as I continue to manage my mothers care.  I will post when I can and I will fondly think of you when I can't.  Please forgive me if I don't promptly respond to comments, my online time is limited at the moment.  Wishing each of you many blessings!