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Layers

Today was the last session of my collage class.  It has been a gift to be in Laura's class ( lonecrowart.blogspot.com/ ) and the bonus of it all was to create and work with other women who love collage.  Each student in the class has been an inspiration to me.  I really admire the artwork everyone creates.  Laura really pulls us into the creative process and I love that and need that!  The piece I created is from our last two sessions.  I call it "Layers."  Over the years, I've been trying to grow up and out.  I've often been told that the process is much like the peeling off of layers of an oinion.  Layers that cover up who we are, our hurts or the broken places in our lives.  The collage process is the opposite of this.  In collage, we build through layering.  I am finding that the layers help to reveal who I am.  I found a common bond with many of the women in the class.  We all have a yearning to break away from the things that keep us bound to habits we wrest

Living with the pain

While working on a project in an art class, a sharp sting on my finger made me stop in my tracks. I knew instantly that a sliver just broke through the skin on my finger. It was just a tiny piece of wood, barely visible, but boy did it hurt! I tried to remove it, hoping I’d get the entire piece out but no luck. There was a small part of it still under my skin, and I couldn’t do anything about it until I would be home later in the day. Interestingly, I was able to proceed with my project, and I actually forgot about it. Later in the day, I brushed my hand against my jeans, and the pain from the sliver came back. I was quickly reminded that something wasn’t right. That’s how sin is in our lives. It’s so apparent to me when I am not in sync with God. Instantly, the Holy Spirit elbows me and lets me know that I stepped out of line. The conviction, while gentle, is painful. It’s also interesting to see how I can forget about my sin and just go about my business as if nothing is amiss. But t

Welcome 2011 - Connecting the Dots

I am in my third collage class session and am absolutely thrilled. I am learning, learning, learning. One snag though. It seems like the perfectionist in me is keeping me from creating as freely as I'd like to. The part of me that wants to do my work in an exact manner is hanging me up a bit. So I've been trying to pay more attention to what is inside of me, hoping to hear a whisper from the Holy Spirit. After all, the art is in me and so is He. I try to be aware of the messages that will lead me and memories come to mind of when I was a little girl, collecting and gathering this, that, or the other. I never understood why I was drawn to the things I chose. I just knew that when I liked something, be it a rock, an old screw, or a feather, I added it to my collection. I didn't think about it much, I was just happy with my stuff. Over the years, as I've been drawn to the "this and that", I have added it to my collection of stuff. There was no rhyme or reason to

Fabulous Field Trip

It was an exciting day.  Joe and I decided to take a field trip to the Italio-American Accordion shop in Oak Lawn.   When I walked into the shop, I was amazed.   There was a huge variety of accordions and I felt a little priveledged that I could actually mingle in this environment.  We talked to the girl behind the desk and the resident technician.   He checked out my accordion by playing a few chords.  Immediately, he knew that it had a problem.  Using a special tool, he removed some screws, exposed the inside workings of my accordion and stated his diagnosis. “This accordion has been dropped,” he said.  A few months back, my accordion fell off a chair, and since then it never sounded the same. He made his adjustments, put it back together and placed it back in my case.  I was sooooo happy!   He refused to take any money for the repairs, so I was even more grateful. I couldn't wait to try it out.   As soon as I got home, I pulled out my accordion.  Wow! The rich sound I remembere

Chasing Art

Over the years, I have explored my art through various mediums.  Ceramics, oils, pencil, acrylics, watercolor, photography (I'm sure there are more).  I've enjoyed all of them and this weekend I was going to add one more art adventure, collage.  I signed up, not really knowing what I was going to be doing, and I am so happy I did.  It was absolutely wonderful.  More than wonderful...I was completely in the zone for two and one half days.  A classmate in the workshop talked about losing time when creating, and that's exactly what happened.   I was in my own world for two and half days and whatever else was going on out there, just didn't matter.  It's strange how a room filled with artistic energy can create a bond beyond words.  I learned a new art form from my fabulous instructor,  Laura Lein-Svencner and equally rewarding was hearing the encouraging words from my classmates.  I was excited about attending this workshop for many reasons.  The obvious was that I was

Wandering Fingers

I thought I was moving along and making great progress with my lessons.  I almost felt smug.  Suddenly, though, I was staring at a giant.  My giant was a new song with new notes.  This meant that I could no longer keep my fingers on the same five keys I had been using so confidently.  Now, I had to stretch, both physically and mentally.  Physically, my fingers had to reach keys that were unfamiliar to me.  Mentally, I had to admit I wasn't as slick as I thought I was.  I had so much more to learn.  Sometimes I feel like that on a spiritual level.  I am comfortable where I am and think I've got things pretty much under control.  And then God thinks it's time to learn a new song.   That humbles me but also makes me feel the discomfort of the upcoming stretch I'll have to make.  Discomfort may seem like a bad thing, but when it involves God, it usually isn't.  It builds trust.  It makes me see that I am human, and God is way bigger than my circumstances.  He will help

Is There an Accordion Doctor in the House?

My heart sank when I heard the sharp thud. I knew instantly what had happened. My accordion fell, no...crashed, to the floor. Liz asked me to look at something in another room, so we placed my accordion on a chair. Obviously, not a good idea. I rushed to pick it up, hoping my quick response would miraculously undo whatever damage might have occurred. I tried playing it, and instantly we both could tell some things were not right I left Liz's house without my accordion and as I drove home, my mind filled with a little bit of anxiety. Liz assured me that she could fix the problems and so I decided to focus on that promise. I had to trust her, and I had to stop thinking about the damage. Thankfully, she has the skills to do the repair work. I started thinking how I am damaged too, and how I've "fallen" more than once. It happens more than I like to admit, and that's when I seek the Lord to fix me. With each repair, he perfects me so that I become what he designed me