Maria Wulf Full Moon Fiber Art

The Very Last Batch Of Ode to the Moon And Sun, Eclipse Potholders

This really is the last batch of my Ode to the Moon and Sun Eclipse Potholders.  As you can see the suns and moons that I had left, are all a bit obscured.  But then I suppose, being partially hidden works well with the idea of the eclipse.

I had a few people asking for an Eclipse Potholder, so yesterday I pulled the rest of the fabric together and came up with nine more of them.

Some of these are already sold, but I will finish them up and put the rest up for sale in my Etsy Shop on Friday.

Zip, Zinnia and The Egg

There was one egg in the coop this morning.  I put it on the table and when I came back for it, I watched as Zip knocked it onto the ground.

I called Zinnia over to clean it up.  She was glad to.   I don’t know what Zip was just trying to play or if he wanted the egg.

My “New” Flock Of Sheep

Asher, Merricat, Kim, Lori, Robin, Issachar, Constance

My new flock of sheep.  That’s how I’ve been thinking of them.  Seven sheep, Kim is the oldest at 11, but they are otherwise a young group of ewes and wethers.

It does feel like something new.

As if I have gone from one phase to another.  It’s not that my learning about sheep is over.  I don’t think,  as long as I have sheep, it ever will be. It’s more like I’ve  graduated after living and learning for 12 years with Suzy and Socks.

They were my teachers along with all my other sheep who have been born, lived and died at the farm.  But it is Suzy and Socks passing that marks the end of one period of my life with sheep and begins another.

I’m still getting used to the idea that there are no sheep missing from the flock.  I think it will take a bit more time to see my seven as whole.  But every morning when I put a little less hay in the feeders I get a step closer.

In a way, that I will be taking this years wool to a new fiber mill seems like another sign of the shift.

Do What You Love

Rosemary’s Potholder collection

I had to look for at each of the Potholders that Rosemary has hanging over her desk to remember them. For most it was  a piece or two of fabric that brought my creating them back to me.

How sweet to see them hanging all together.  But Rosemary’s words felt even better…

As you can see, “She wrote, “your artwork is near my desk for inspiration. I bought a sewing machine and am learning about quilting because of you.”

That what I am doing has inspired Rosemary to create, affirms my belief in the power and good of doing what fulfills us.  And how it isn’t just for ourselves, but it creates a ripple that can affect the people around us.

Finches At The Feeder In The Snow Storm

I put the bird feeder by  the living room window so Jon could take pictures of the birds.  But I may be enjoying it as much or more than he is.

During the snow storm on Saturday, we sat a the window and watched the House Finches and Goldfinches crowd the feeder eating the seeds.  They pecked at each other, or shared a perch, they pushed each other away, took food from each others beaks and came back for more.

This is 30 seconds of finches at the feeder during a snowstorm.  Not sure I can call it a meditation.

Meeting The Moon

Zinnia in the full moon

“The moon is calling me,” I said to Jon.  But he was fast asleep.

I kept waking up, and each time I did, the pale blue light that filled the windows tugged at me.   Each time I looked out the window the long shadows of the maples shifted like a sundial.

Finally, I slipped out of bed and pulled on yesterdays clothes. Downstairs, I put on my winter coat, wool hat and gloves.   Zinnia and Fate followed me out the door and into the night.

Moon light like sunlight.

Through the gate and into the barnyard.  Lulu came out first to see what was happening.  Then Fanny and Asher followed.  They watched as we passed the apple tree.

I dug my heels into the snow, breaking the crust to keep from slipping as I went down the hill.

I could count the stars and barely make out Orion’s belt.

In the back pasture the snow was so hard we walked on top of it leaving no footprints.   A field of hard, shiny white.

The dogs sniffed at the snow, and I walked, showered in moonlight.

I don’t know why it seemed wrong to be sleeping, to be inside when the moon was so bright.  It felt like snubbing a gift, not appreciating what the moon was offering.

So I took the gift of light in the night the only way I knew how. By being in it.

And when I got too cold to stay out any longer, the moon laid a carpet of sparkles in the snow to usher me home.

The Hens Spend The Day On The Driveway

The chickens came out of the coop early yesterday evening.   They walked the few shoveled paths looking for earth to scratch at, for insects to eat.

I don’t know how successful they were, but they were out again early this morning.  They spent the day in the driveway.  Mikeplowed it last night and the sun had melted the rest of the snow this morning.

Back and forth they went, all day long, scratching at the hard gravel ground, and never giving up.

The hens in the driveway

Drawing At The Mansion

Rachel turned her salt shaker into a girl she called Barbara.

“Today we’re going to draw,” I said to the women sitting around the big round wooden table.

“You can draw anything, anytime,” I said, “Just for the enjoyment of it. Draw what’s in front of you.”

Then I read them Pablo Neruda’s poem “Ode To Things”

“…I love
all things,
not just
the grandest,
also
the
infinite
ly
small…”

In my basket I had some “small” things from home.  A red and gray striped stuffed rabbit, a big white scallop shell, a green glass pony, a salt shaker, a steel donkey, a cup with a heart on a stick sticking out of it, a ceramic frog planter, a felted boy holding a balloon, a paper cat.

I pulled them out one by one and when someone made any kind of positive comment about it, I gave it to them to draw.

Except for Nancy, I brought the colorful ceramic frog just for her.  She has a hard time gripping with her hands, so her drawing would be abstract and about color.

Then I handed out paper and asked what each person wanted to draw with.  Some chose pencil, others marker and Claudia used a crayon.

Nancy and her drawing

I told everyone this wasn’t about drawing the way you’ve seen someone else draw, or about making the object look exactly as it is.  I asked them to focus on one part of the object, to interpret it through their eyes, to feel it.

 

Ellen focused on the stripes of the stuffed bunny.  She  captured the organic feel of its floppy ears, arms and legs.

Mary chose the green pony. But she was having a hard time starting.

So we talked about horses a bit (her father had horses) then I suggested she focus on the curve of the horses neck.  She said the green  horse didn’t have a tail which was true.  I drew some dots on the paper for her to connect thinking it might get her interested.

But Mary just told me that I was doing a good job and that I should draw the horse.

She was right.  I was obviously  more into it than she was.  So I suggested she draw the heart that was sticking out of the cup.  When that didn’t inspire I told her it was fine if she didn’t want to draw she didn’t have to.

Drawing isn’t for everyone.

Betty and her donkey drawing

“It looks like Eeyore.”  I said to Betty when I saw her drawing of the donkey.

Everyone agreed. They could see and  the hang-dog donkey.  Betty wasn’t impressed and told me her son could draw anything in front of him, but she could never draw.  I pulled up an image of Picasso’s Don Quixote and showed it to her.

Her eyes sparkled a little, she though it was lovely.  I think she made the same connection that I did.

Claudia and her cat drawing

All I had to do to get Claudia drawing was to tell her to focus on the head of the cat.  She was working from a three dimensional paper “Zip”-cat that Kathy sent Jon in the mail.

“I love to draw,” Claudia said to me.  “I can do this anytime I want.” She said it as if the idea never occurred to her before.  And I don’t think it had.  It’s not generally what we are taught.  That drawing can be enjoyable, stimulating and fulfilling.

Susan and her drawing of the scallop shell.

Susan shows up to my class sometimes, but she never draws.  She doesn’t do any kind of art.  She claims she doesn’t like to, and isn’t good at it.

But today Susan sat down at the table.  And when I pulled out the big white scallop shell she said “ooh”. So I handed it to her and with a little encouragement she drew it.

When she was done she didn’t think it looked like the shell.  But she sat through the class and worked on her drawing and I think she liked being there.

Even if she wasn’t impressed, I was.

Jane’s drawing

Jane needed no encouragement.

She loves to draw and paint, something she only started doing since she came to live at The Mansion. I put the felted boy with the balloon in front of her. I pointed to the swirly design on his shirt.

That’s all it took.

Jane’s drawings all tell a story.  Her marks are purposeful and confident. She works from a place inside of herself.

Her art makes me wonder, which makes me want to keep looking at them.

 

“Thinking of Snow” In Its New Home

 

My Thinking About Snow Quilt at home

Sheila sent me some photos of Thinking About Snow,  in its new home.  She said she had fun turning it around and seeing which way she liked it on the bed best.

I love how sculptural it looks on the bed, the squares and rectangles changing shape as they fit to the form of the bed.  Somehow it makes it seem like there are even more places to go, places to explore in the quilt than when it is hanging flat.

I can see why Sheila wrote me that the quilt was just right for her.

Full Moon Fiber Art