Looking Back

I woke up this morning, and was thinking back to some of the things I've written in the last year. I had to shake my head at some of them. Perspective. I'm thinking, in particular of the post I wrote in which I declared the mornings to be mine. I wanted 3 hours, at least, if I remember correctly. That was back in April, and it was right for the time...I managed to keep up that routine for about 5 months, and it was good to establish it. At the time, maybe I even knew it wasn't permanent – but remembering my headspace when I wrote that makes me think of that line in Joni Mitchell's Come In From The Cold. “...I made some value judgements/In a self-important voice” I'm not sure who I was declaring this righteous new routine to, other than myself. Or why I felt the need to be so adamant about it. I was trying to justify it to myself. Sometimes it is hardest to convince ourselves that it is okay to need what we need – particularly in the moment. All the fears and insecurities we (I) have about not being enough, not doing enough. Permission to just do what you need to do, for yourself, for your sanity, for your health...it can be hard not to feel that that has to be justified, or explained, even to yourself. There was a lot of good that came out of it. It created some patterns for me. I got my body back, at least to some extent. When I need to stretch in the morning, I do. There are still days I'm pretty sore, but not the way I was, for months on end. I'm okay to be on the computer in the mornings when I need to – like this morning. I've been pretty terrible about the computer – I'm way behind on my social media stuff, and my website. I have kept up the writing. I have kept up the reading. I'm determined to pick up my fiddle again before the end of the month. These things are all easier because I gave myself that permission – even if I had to stomp my foot and have a tantrum inside myself to do it.

It's funny, sometimes, the paths we take to get to where we are. There are days I look back and think “why on earth did I choose that route? It would have been so much simpler to go the other way.” Not unlike when I was climbing (which I miss terribly.) It's the need to challenge myself, to see if I can figure it out, and regardless of how much more complicated I make it, I generally find I've learned something valuable.

Resolute

 

A random shot of the fire of a smelting furnace - fire is always an appropriate image!

 

Another year has passed. Everything has changed, everything has stayed the same. I've never been one for new year's celebrations, let alone resolutions. Just the other day I was telling the story of being invited to a friend's for New Year's as a kid. I was a bit confused by the vibrancy of their plans. Sure, we recognized it was New Year's in my house, sometimes we'd even stay up until midnight and toast each other with gingerale (or whatever they were drinking that was age appropriate.) A party, fireworks, outdoor raucous ramblings, running around yelling ...it all seemed a bit much. I've always preferred a quieter observance, I guess, for most things. I do understand the impulse to celebrate things – anything and everything can be cause for celebration, and it should be. I've come to understand that sometimes we truly need celebration – particularly wild, ecstatic celebration. It is part of the human condition.

I most certainly understand the impulse to start fresh, to try to improve, to strive to do better … I've always done that, but I tend to do it a lot more regularly – every day, or whenever I'm faced with beginning or ending or failure. To have it as a New Year's thing just never felt right to me, and so, thinking ahead to what I want to try to do in the coming months my choices feel a little disingenuous to me, but a friend has been posting about goals they set last year and goals they are setting for the coming year, and it made me think about things a little differently. The idea of 52 for 52 presented itself to me – 52 undertakings in various areas throughout the year, one each week. The idea appealed as a good way to try to nurture discipline in some of the things I'm trying to work on.

Definitions of the word resolute vary – the various dictionaries don't want to be identical, after all...but they all boil down to the same thing. Merriam-Webster online sums it up nicely as “marked by firm determination.” I like the feel of that, and I've decided that against all my own misgivings, that is what I choose for this year, I choose to be resolute, to be marked by firm determination. Not just in my undertaking of doing certain things on a weekly basis or better, but in my outlook for the year, in my attitude and my actions I will aim to be resolute. And I will celebrate, albeit quietly. I will celebrate anything, and, I hope, everything. Maybe somewhere in there I will find an occasion that demands wild and ecstatic celebration, and if I give in to the impulse my celebrations will be markedly determined.

Where Has the Time Gone?

 

I was so proud of keeping up with my posts on a regular basis...even if it was only once a month. How on earth did I go from August to DECEMBER without realizing I'd missed posting?

Well, it has been pretty busy, actually. I was thinking about it a couple of weeks ago and I realized that I've been working like I did when I was in my 30s over the past few months




.

I guess that isn't exactly accurate either. I'm working smarter than I did when I was in my 30s. I'm getting more than 2 hours of sleep most nights. I'm taking better care of myself and my health. When I'm feeling really, really broken or exhausted I stop for a bit. I've said “no” to a few things. So maybe not quite like I did when I was in my 30s, but...long days, 7 days a week most of the time...working hard, working constantly.

There is another difference. More of the work is either “for” me, or what I'm increasingly seeing as the “right” kind of work. That also means there is less money involved – certainly for most of it there isn't a financial paycheque, but it pays in other ways.

August, September, October, even into November there was a chunk of work going into the yard – the building of my little permaculture paradise. The harvesting of what was a pretty meager bunch of stuff this year – for all the planting I did, all the annual seeds, with the crazy weather and the extreme wet, very little thrived. The trees and the perennials did, and that was more important to me this year. But not so much the things I thought I'd be harvesting. There was also the things I did to help a neighbour or two in their gardens, and what they so generously let me harvest from their bounty. Or what they harvested and then gifted excess to us. All of that needed to be processed or packed away so that it didn't go to waste, and as little as there may have been it ate up a lot of time. The more of your own food you create the closer to a full time job it becomes, but hey, eating is of pretty prime importance on my list.

Circumstances and events also have me providing more care for some local animals, chief cook and chambermaid as it were. This is something I'm happy to do, no matter the time it takes. The time spent is invaluable, important and has its own set of rewards. It won't be forever, and I have the time to give, so it is what I choose to do. No obligations, no expectations, it is just the right thing to do. And there is no questioning the appreciation I receive in return – I'm making a difference, however small.

I had thought this was going to be a quiet time, so I decided to take a course as well, during this period. Well, it turns out it wasn't a quiet time, but I'd already committed to the course, so...

Then there was the fact that I lucked into a really great part-time job, which also does provide a paycheque, and makes a difference in my day-to-day. I get to work with some great people and it offers me a lot to learn. It gets me introduced to a bit of the local community. Not to mention it is in an absolutely delicious environment...cheese has always been one of my favourite food groups!

I've even had a little bit of wig building work – again, grateful for that for both the income it provides and for keeping my skills intact. Plus knotting is still something I very much enjoy.

 

Through all of this, I've been putting in a lot of work on Elfworks. I've been trying to get some things photographed, supposedly for getting more things up on the website, which hasn't happened, but I'm not giving up just yet. I was accepted into the Museum of Dufferin's annual Holiday Treasures show again this year, and I was determined to have at least a few new designs beyond a few new pewter pieces for it. I did, in fact, manage to design and execute some new product, and a few new designs. I've been trying to keep up with photographing things in process, both for publication here and for more detailed articles that I put up on my Patreon Page https://www.patreon.com/elfworksstudios . 

 

So, I have been writing, I've just missed writing here – I put up at least 2 things per month on the Patreon page, though I strive for more. I have a number of half-researched articles I'm working on for that being kicked into shape, if more slowly than I'd like. And while I did miss a few weeks, I've also been trying to keep up my social media posts on Facebook and Instagram as best I can. 

 

So all in all, I guess it isn't all that surprising that this blog got away from me, though I certainly didn't mean to let it happen. I'm picking up the torch again, and will strive to keep up. I'm not sure things have quieted down all that much, but I seem to have a slightly better handle on some of them. A few things are finished up and some have just become a little more manageable. I'm working on an exciting new project for Elfworks, that I can't talk about just yet, and I'm very pleased with how well it is coming along. I have plans for a number of other projects once it is finished, and we are continuing to work on the forge space. The winter months will likely also see some more space renovations get underway, opening up lots of new opportunities and possibilities for making.

 

I look forward to telling you more about the ups and downs here, and whats going on. I'll make every effort to get back to regular postings and keep those who are interested in following along in the loop. If I don't get back here before then, I wish everyone the happiest of Holiday seasons, whatever you celebrate (even if all you celebrate is having some time off.)

Every Now and Every Then

Knowing when you need to focus outwards on the world around you and when to acknowledge it but remain focused on where you are and what you are doing is a horrible tightrope to walk. Those outside your inner realms will often jump up and down and accuse you of being selfish and uncaring. But sometimes, you need to be true not only to yourself, but to all of those who have shown you support and encouraged you to do what you do. Taking everything on and taking everything to heart can't be done. We are very small creatures in a very big world, and an even bigger universe.

But how do you know when you are hiding from what is happening and when you are honouring what needs to be done?  

The first part of this post was written ages ago, but I think it is pertinent to the times.  The continuing and ever changing wave of pandemic pressures and uncertainties.  Things may be "opening up" but everyone is going to have to continue to navigate a "new normal" unless they are willfully ignoring the realities of things - as some always will.  I don't think it is time even for the "new normal" to begin, but I understand everyone's need to believe it is here.

In July of this year I was pretty much a lump.  I had been very active for the first 6 months, working on everything - from garden to digital ventures, creating to cataloguing,  writing to fiddling.  When July hit, it all came crashing down.  My 2nd vaccine took me out for a few days.  Then I twisted something - my ankle I think.  It was rainy, I was tired and sore and I just never got up to speed.  I kept doing things that gave me twinges - sore wrist, sore ankle again, sore legs.  Some of that is probably because with all the other things that stopped in July, I also stopped stretching every morning.  Probably, I just needed a break.  

The one thing I did do plenty of in July was read.  I put aside the pile of non-fiction I'm working through and gave in to a host of old favourites from my fiction shelves.  It gave me a chance to reset a little, and I managed (mostly) to ignore the ticking of the clock of the time I have to get things done! and the voice in the back of my head telling me to get up and get at it.

It helped me to refocus, to get energized for some projects that didn't involve all things growing.  It eased me into revisiting things I realize once or twice a year and then seem to promptly forget or ignore.  Things I often write about here, but having given it a glancing acknowledgement then fail to put into practice.  (Like, maybe if I gave myself a day off every once in a while I would be less likely to need to fall down for a whole month?)

So far, August has been closer to the norm - I'm working on prototyping some new pieces, getting work done outside when weather permits, trying to get back to writing, photographing, cataloguing etc.  I'm trying not to push too hard, trying not to feel rushed.  I'm not back into my pile of non-fiction just yet, but I'm continuing to devour stories, myths and legends.  Every time I reset, I try to do a little better, on some level at least.

The world is filled with uncertainty, fear, impatience, desperation - not that it is anything new, but it is more palpable than usual.  This pandemic has made a lot of people turn all those things that they are feeling into anger, and outrage.  There are a lot of soapboxes that have been getting a lot of use lately.  Many of the things people are choosing to use as a focus for that anger are things that they really should be angry about, things that should outrage us all.  It will be interesting to see how many people remain committed to those causes if they get any sort of normal back.  Yes, that was only very slightly related to where I started, but this is how my brain meanders through what passes for my thinking process.

So, how do you know when you are hiding and when you are honouring what needs to be done?  Well, the answer will be a little different for everyone I expect.  One of the things that I've come to believe is that you have to take some time and some space for starters.  Take a good look at what you are labelling something as "needs to be done."  Needs to be done for whom?  Needs to be done for why?  Take a moment and look at the word needs - decide if it is an accurate description.

  

Every now and then we need to hide, sometimes it is the right thing to do.  Every now and then, we need to take a deep breath and screw our courage to the sticking place, and get out there and do it anyway.  Every now is an opportunity to step back and take stock, take a good look and make a decision.  If you let others decide for you, no matter how well-intentioned, looking back at every then could be a regret on some level.  You can't do everything, none of us can.  What you can do, is make what you do count, for yourself at the very least. 

Working In Increments

I love being a jack-of-many-trades. I don't say all because there are a lot of things I can't do and don't even try to. It does have its downsides though. One of the things about finding so many things absolutely fascinating is you want to do them all. Ideally you want to do them all well. I love learning about things, and I love getting lost in what I'm doing. Unfortunately almost everything I love to do, or would love to do takes time and practice to build the skills. The more time you put in, the better you get. Regularly practicing and building skills is a rewarding and exciting thing to do.

But when you are interested in practically everything, how do you fit it all in?

I will spend my lifetime trying to find a decent balance between all the things I like to do, and probably never really succeed. That is okay, I'm having a good time along the way, and every baby step in each of the areas leads somewhere. It is frustrating at times, to say the least. There are plenty of times when one of the worst bits is trying to pick the thing you are going to spend time on. Sometimes the weather will help you make the choice, sometimes time and circumstance will help you out (if it is 3am and you need to pick something to practice and everyone else is sound asleep, something loud is probably not your best choice, as one example.) Energy levels and focus can play a factor too. If I'm really physically spent, going out to the forge might not be my best bet. Carving is probably a better choice.

There are times when you realize that there are things you've pushed down the list for too long. Not that they aren't interesting anymore, just that they have been less immediate. And the balance shifts again.

One good example of this that is glaring at me just now is drawing. Drawing – or at least being able to sketch almost coherently – is actually pretty important in most of the things I do. I'm really pretty bad at it, and I know so many incredible visual artists that it takes a lot of muster for me to put pencil to paper. My partner came up with a great solution. (I may have talked about this before.) He realized that one of the things holding me back was that fine line on that glaringly beautiful white expanse of paper. I got intimidated by the page. After a dinner at one of those roadhouse restaurants where they have kraft paper on the table with a cup full of crayons in which we were discussing design ideas and I was doodling with abandon, he came up with a manilla sketchpad and a box of crayons as a gift for me. It worked like a treat for a while. I spent hours doodling in the pad, and came up with a few not-too-shabby design ideas that were rendered in a fairly coherent manner.

For the last long while though, they've been gathering dust by my corner of the couch, abandoned. I realized the other day that it's been so long since I put anything into my shop sketchbook that I wasn't sure where it was. Probably not a good sign. Not that I haven't been making anything, but I certainly haven't made any notes on it or drawn any of the things I've been making. So while I've gotten better at stretching and practicing my fiddle, and made some strides with getting out to the shop I haven't done a lick of carving or sketching for months on end.

I'm beginning to realize, though, that that is okay. Things have their seasons, and as the wheel turns everything gets its time. I'm not abandoning anything, and sometimes, I find that the space of a rest has let the the information I gained in the previous flurry of activity settle into one more notch of understanding in both my brain and my hands. I can't give everything an hour or two a day – there just aren't enough hours in the day, nor do I have anywhere near that much energy. So everything gets its turn, and each skill gets built (sometimes frustratingly) slowly, but it increases nonetheless. Sometimes its about remembering why you are doing it and most especially, not comparing your progress to the skills of others.

Finding "Calendar Identity"

 In going through the things I've written but not published, I'm finding that there are a number of pieces that are out of context now.  This was one of them...and yet, in reading it and reflecting, I think I've learned a lot.  Once again, I'll italicize the post as it was written (in July of 2018!) and then reflect on what I've learned in the new circumstances of the pandemic world.

I sit here 3 weeks in to my Summer At Home in a mild panic. My personal deadline for a business project is looming, and likely to pass yet again, unfinished again. I have yet to MAKE anything this summer. I have a wig job that I am working on – which is great, but means I am trying to fit everything else in my life into about 3 or 4 hours in a day. And I see my pattern. I am still letting it happen. I see my mistakes, but I am torn.

This transition I've been trying to make, these transitions...in part my difficulty is my identity. I was always an army of one, and I was surprisingly, fairly efficient. I could work stupid amounts and accomplish more in an afternoon than should have been realistic (sometimes). But I am getting older and I don't want to do that anymore. And that is certainly part of it. Realizing limitations.

Another part, though, a part that is harder to recognize and reconcile is finding middle ground for my new identity. Particularly in terms of prioritizing my schedule. It is easy when I have “work” - standard work – a theatre contract or a wig job or a demonstration. There is an outside schedule imposed.

My partner is a successfully self-employed blacksmith – has been for a lifetime – pretty much the bulk of his working lifetime. And that means working 6 or 7 days a week – as much on communications and research and background and paperwork as in the shop – usually more. In many ways we have very similar lives – (I too have always worked an average of 6 or 7 days a week, for example), and we each have kept our own lives – largely. We enjoy each other's company and try to spend some time together – often on work projects or work related ones. And this whole partnership thing has been a big learning curve for me, and boy am I still learning.

Here is where I run into trouble with my own business, my own time, my own identity. In my “down” time, the time that is not scheduled by the outside world, when I'm working on making things and my business and making my new life my time is pretty flexible. I have long lists, as we all do, of things I want and or need to get done. The trouble is, in part, that I'm allowing them to be driven by my partner's schedule. Often because it involves cool fun things that I want to do. Like going to Scotland to work on projects. Or going to opening ceremonies for art events that he is involved in. Or doing Iron Smelting or Experimental Archeology projects that may or may not involve travel and/or gatherings at our home studio.

So, I set my schedule by the outside world and by my partner's schedule. Which should not present a problem, but unless I am very conscious of it all the time it gets away from me. I end up fitting everything into the margins, including my business. Hence the lack of progress on my projects. I don't put my business first, (or myself.)

It is hard to take my business out of the margins, because it provides me with no guarantees. It has proven to have far greater expenses than incomes, so far. I work at my jobs in part, to support my business...because I love it. Through my artwork I grow and learn and change and discover. And that is worth the price to me. And maybe it is part of the problem. I wouldn't be the first person to self-sabotage in order to avoid enough success to change the nature of something from joy to drudgery.

I have to learn to change that, though. I have to take this business out of the margins and put it in the content. In the table of contents and the index – or I will never be able to create the life I am striving for.

It should be simple enough, you say. Schedule tasks in hours and stick to the schedule, just as if it were a paying, clock your time job. Easier said than done, but re-identifying the problem it is what I will try. Not 8am-4pm work on business. That won't work. Not for me. But maybe Tuesday 9 -10 write for business. 2- 3 work on grounds. Sunday 11-12 work on photographs. Break it into 1 or 2 hour bites that can be shifted and managed.

The other tool I am using is a time log. A very loose time log – but in order to keep track of what I am really doing, I am making a loose accounting of my day and how the hours are spent. The categories are very broad, but the benefit is that at the end of the day I can see where the time went. Often the day is over and I feel like I accomplished nothing. Yet, I am bone tired. The time log, when I look at it tells me, yes, you actually put in x hours today, and this is how it was broken down. And at the end of a week or a month I can see how much time I actually put in on my business (for example). A little like tracking your expenses in order to make a realistic budget.

So, does this still apply after 15 odd months of being home in a pandemic?  Well, not so much, though I'm not quite sure the take is an entirely unbiased look.  It turns out that after a rest period I have worked on the business steadily.  Given time and space in my brain and a chance to re-energize, I've gotten a lot off of my to-do list.  However, I need to keep in mind the fact that there was virtually no outside schedule to conflict.  There was nothing in my partner's schedule that could distract me.

I haven't made as much new stuff as I think I should have, but I have made pieces.  I have managed to build an e-commerce website, do a lot of product photography, revise and improve my inventory system, build and maintain a Patreon page, write (somewhat) more regular blog posts, do a lot of work on organizing my spaces (and my forge space has been pulled apart entirely re-modelled and re-assembled


!) and making them workable and start "advertising" by creating a much more consistent social media presence.  I've made huge strides in the work I'm doing on the grounds here, spent a lot of time digging and planting and making the space more versatile and abundant.  I've had time both for myself and to spend with my partner (and, of course, the cat.)  I've been given a reminder of what I can do without and given a much more comprehensive picture of what the cost of living and maintaining the business is if I'm just here all the time.  It has given me a clear snapshot of the financial cost as well as the time and energy cost of maintaining multiple careers.

So...what I've learned is that things are possible, and most of the struggle with my "calendar identity" comes from having too many slots to fit into each day.  It is not that I didn't know that this was a big part of the problem, I just thought that there were way more factors playing a much bigger part as well. All this has given me a lot of food for thought, and let me step back and see the forest as well as the trees.   Once again, I am shown that perspective changes everything.

Inspiration vs. Focus

The bulk of this article, clearly, is something I wrote some time ago – as in before the start of the pandemic (reference to “my time at home” being limited.) I've added to it as I've edited it – though I've tried to keep most of the additions after the end of the initial written block (which I've italicized to mark previous vs. new.)

At the forge.  Photo by Travis Sweet.

In typing the words, it occurs to me that the first question that comes to mind is – why is it adversarial? Why can't it be inspiration and focus? Well, sometimes it can. The difficulty comes when it is one pitted against the other – which is so often part of the creative process. You need to have one or the other – usually flip-flopping between the two for some random period of time before they can get together and work in harmony and create that perfect state of creativity and productivity that we all look for.

This just happens to be where I am just now. I have ideas flooding in, and I'm pretty sure they are mostly good ideas – not just for things I want to make, but for shaping my business and my approach to my business as I try to make this a working vehicle. When I woke up this morning I was very excited about many of the aspects of what I am undertaking. I was all fired up. But I was also stiff, and tired and in reality I knew that this one day is the day I have off just now. So I ought to take care of myself, and do some stretching to keep me moving, I ought not try to tackle 25 things but pick one and focus on it as I only had one day available to me here at home, just at the moment.

By the time I had gotten my focus onto the fact that I needed to eat, and then fulfilled that need...all hope was lost. The ability to prioritize the list of things I wanted to tackle had changed to a great need to rest, and to play – there is lots of inspiration but very little focus. So I am letting my mind wander down that track, down the aisle where I understand the need for play in continuing creativity, and this blog entry is my compromise.

Sometimes it is portrayed in film and television, that need for play. You see the office with a bunch of writers or other “idea people” and they look like they are just throwing a ball back and forth while they talk, or some similar such activity. I've seen it working in offices of creatives, sometimes. What looks to outsiders like the staff is being paid to play a game or some other curious activity that makes you wonder what the world is coming to.

Truly, creativity is a bizarre thing. Sometimes it comes from nothingness. From silence and blankness, and appears like the first star of the night sky. Other times it will not come unless you are in the middle of a game of some sort. Sometimes it comes when you are in the midst of a serious scientific or political discussion. It is unpredictable. But when it flees you will try everything to court it, to bring it back.

Perhaps the wisest course is to build in all possible scenarios so that it has every possible opportunity to arrive whenever it desires. Certainly I have found that a mind at play, and a mind allowed rest give that mind the room and the breathing space that creativity finds most inviting. And indulging in such things as play and rest allow room for focus as well, so that we can bring those things into harmony and have them work together, making that glorious moment of being in the zone, being creative and productive and everything flowing smooth and sweet.

Photo by D. Markewitz

Yes, I do think that creativity is something of a living entity, with whims and desires of its own. I choose to anthropomorphize it the same way I do with nature and animals. It is a way to relate to it, to commune with it. Focus is something that is also a living thing, but more sneaky. It doesn't always land where I want it to, but it is something that absorbs me utterly when it truly kicks in. Whether I'm searching out twitchgrass roots in soil or watching metal move beneath my hammer or tying teensy knots into pieces of hair I get utterly lost in what I am involved in, when everything is just right.

In spite of the changed circumstances of the time, and the glorious ability I have to be home quite literally all the time now, this whole topic is no less relevant. There is still very often a lack of communion between creativity and focus – on some levels at least. There are certainly no less demands on my time, though all of them originate here at home, and all of them have a sense of urgency – of time being limited, however much of it there seems to be. My focus often feels like it is split, fractured really, into dozens of pieces, all pulling in different directions. When it gets particularly bad I tend to throw myself into something that will put it into gear (during this part of the year that is often digging and prepping for planting in the yard.) This is both good and bad. Once my focus is engaged in an activity, tearing myself away to try to do anything else can be difficult. I often find myself immersed in thoughts of roots and soil (for example), so much so that I dream of it and wake with the list of the next set of tasks neatly fitting itself together in my head. That can be great, unless you also have other high priority things on the agenda (like say, the components for a sculpture to build, or a proposal to submit, or a website to update or a blog post to write....)

A raised bed surrounded by twitchgrass.  Photo by KPS.

This is all part of the dance of everyday life. I am very aware that is something that we all face in our own circumstances and our own environments. As frustrating as it can all get, it is also what sustains me, what inspires me, what keeps me engaged and involved and in love with my life.