I M Perfect lady

Tag: wisdom

  • My Art Shows my Inner Changes.

    I had put off pricing my quilts, for the task seemed overwhelming. Today I asked a special friend of mine to give me hand, to see if we could find a respectable price that our local market would hold, yet honor the energy and Art of each piece. 

    The pile of twenty was quickly moved into smaller categories of size and composition.  From that point, we appraised its energy, story and fabric content (hand-dyed vs store bought) and found a price. 

    Once the prices were in range, I then went to work on giving each a name and brief description.

    These quilts had been set aside as quilts I could sell, for they didn't seem to have what I called my story line or were part of my healing Art Therapy, or had a bit of me in them. Yet when I began to give them titles and sit and stare at each one, all are part of my journey and in fact they hold energies of joy, feelings of sorrow, weight of tangled confusion, brilliant wisdom, subtle nuances and wistful growth, sisterhood, sister friends, soul sisters, etc…all carry a part of my healing, the past and the future.

    I could also see how my lady started.

    She was small. 

    She lacked movement and energy.

    She was drowned out by the color and design upon which she stood.

    As the years went on, she grew animated with movement, even her sorrow was pronounced…and her self worth blatantly evident in her size.,

    What I didn't expect from this collection of quilts is to see so much of me…and to feel the small almost unrecognizable me and the how the background energy moved into the Lady.

    Below are some from what I call my personal story line, that will show you how I saw myself back in 2005.

    IMG_3319
    She is one of the first ladies to emerge…Her size in comparison to the background really hit me.  How small I saw myself…insignificant almost. 

    IMG_3325
    Actually this one came before the previous one, for she doesn't even have hair… The writing in the quilting says, "Freedom to be free".  At the time it was a dream, a thought…a someday desire.  An unknown feeling. And the freedom seemed to be around me and I was trying to catch it.

    IMG_3281
    What struck me about these dancing ladies is the empty head…first I thought how sad, and then I thought, how delightful, to be empty of beliefs and thoughts, to be wide open. A clean slate…a new me. (this one was one of the first lady quilts to sell)

    In looking below at one of the latest quilts, one I pulled out of the pile going to Marquette, (I wasn't ready to let her go and she seems to be truly apart of my storyline) you can see how the lady and the background are equally as bright and infused with energy.  A balance…I am no longer smaller than my surroundings.

    IMG_8149

    So, no matter which quilt I have done, there you will find me…a snippet of my journey, a bit of inner wisdom and knowing…without words, you see me in the shape, color and design.  Wow, Art really is revealing.

    IMG_8186
    The description I wrote for this quilt, titled, "Comfortable Wisdom"…is, 

      "She rests easy in knowing who she is, where she has been…no regrets.  She  fully accepts the past and is at peace with the present…a lover of reality."  

    You simply can't hide in Art…it sneaks into every aspect of what you create.  

    As odd as it sounds, the more time I spend with my art, the more I understand it and the more in awe I become.  While playing with the fabrics and designs I am blind to the subtle blaring messages that are screaming at me in silence.  Just amazing to not see yourself…it is a slow progression.  I changed as my art changed…or my art shows my inner changes.


  • Let me be Free!

    While many may not feel or experiences brushes from souls passed, I feel the presence of my father’s sister, the one who taught me how to quilt, who set me on a path of playing with fabric that suited my nature.

    She didn’t bend me to do what she felt, but listened and offered to me a pattern that fit my free spirit, one that gave me my first drink of what it feels like to be the architect, the designer and the builder, she opened the door for me to play.

    She herself would do intricate, tiny little pieces that had to match perfectly, her work was detailed and painstakingly put together, I was her complete opposite, yet we matched in doing what we loved to do.

    Her past relationships with men were ones that left her hurting and it seemed she found solace in Art.

    My youngest daughter, out of the blue, says she wants to do a quilt, and it is the same quilt my Aunt had offered to me as a good first quilt.

    Unbeknownst to my daughter, I feel she is being spoken to by her great aunt, for she knows the feelings my daughter is going through and is heading her in a direction where she can find herself, Art.

    During my darkest spots on my journey, I clung to the moments when I had the energy to be lost in fabric, design and colors, and in those moments, I could feel my Aunt speak to me, telling me words of wisdom, that applied to working on a new technique in quilting or walking a new walk in life.

    I was given my Aunt’s sewing machine after she died, and I believe her spirit lingers nearby and encourages me to stretch and reach and be beyond where she was able to be.

    Her influence in my quilting, especially when I had just begun was key to me continuing forward, her undying faith that I could do anything is with me still.

    I felt that I wasn’t alone anymore in teaching my daughter, that I would have leagues of woman who have gone before lending their wisdom and voices with mine.

    My aunt loved my daughter, her spirit, her disposition, her spunk, her flair for being herself, and I know that if it is possible to help her now, she will.

    Today is a full circle moment, where I can be the teacher as I take my daughter to choose the fabric of her first quilt, it is my greatest hope that I can instill in her the love of quilting that my Aunt gave to me, or the art of creating.

    And all she did was open the door and let me be free!

  • In the Ditches of Life.

    Promises and commitments seem to only have real power when they are used for self, when they are used for others we become their slave.

    I want my daughter’s decision and commitment to be for her self and not for me, for it to be something she feels obligated to do for her own morals and values, leaving me out of the picture.

    If she were to make choices based on what makes me happy, she has just transferred herself over to me for me to rule.

    Promises and commitments when made for another seem on the surface to be a nice and friendly thing, yet if you look closer, they become silk chains that now keep you dancing for their happiness.

    I do not want my children to live a life that has them chained to my happiness, I want their lives to be driven from the inside out, to do what pleases them and makes them happy.

    Defining their own morals and values, owning their responsibility as individuals, being their own character sets them free to make promises to themselves, commitments they want to live by, that leaves us both free.

    My actions can’t define her and hers can’t define me.

    It is the freedom that is both liberating and scary as hell.

    Letting them go to crash and burn or to grow and become strong and independent.

    Kicking them out of the nest in my head, letting them grow and stretch into their own lives.

    I can no longer catch them when they fall; their falls are much bigger. They have to get back up and travel on.

    I think the threads and ties are for the mother’s benefit, I am thinking that our children are much stronger and more resilient than we believe.

    While there is freedom when the silk apron strings are cut, there is fear that did we teach them all they need to know?

    Are they strong enough to fly?

    Life isn’t lived in a straight line without failures; it looks more like a drunkard path.

    We all will fall, and stumble, make a bad judgment call, fall off the path and go in the ditch to gather a morsel of wisdom, it isn’t the mistakes we make but how we pick ourselves back up.

    We are not born with wisdom we find it in the ditches of life.

  • I am Way beyond Okay!

    I often wondered if my clarity was clear enough, if my love was loving enough, if my wisdom was wise enough, if I had healed enough to be in a relationship where I didn’t contaminate the other with my old dysfunctional love.

    And in the past few days, I have been given the opportunity to see and feel the affects of who I am and where I was and how much I have changed.

    The greatest gift I have to offer my daughter who was abused by this man, is to see her bathed in a sea of Innocence so bright it hurts your eyes.

    We had a visit her and I last night, and she tried very hard to get me to see her in a new light, a dimmer light, a dark, guilty blaming shaming light, I simply could not go there.

    I tried. I listened and I followed the trail she walked, I looked around and there was no shame, blame or guilt that I could see.

    We even tried role reversal where I could be her and she could be me, and still nothing changed within me, instead she even appeared more innocent.

    She asked if I would speak to “the Man” and I said I wasn’t really interested, I only cared to speak to her.

    She wanted me to see how she carried half of the weight of this encounter, I just couldn’t reach that same percentage, damn, she always came up short.

    I tried.

    I tried to see her as clear as possible and I tried to see her through her own eyes, and still I came up short.

    The scales were simply unbalanced.

    He was married, she was not.
    He had children, she did not.
    He has experience with relationships with the opposite sex, she did not.
    He was her boss and her elder, she was not.

    So we then tried to see if they matched equally in what they each brought to this new friendship.

    She brought a past reputation of killing one chicken when she was near 5 years old when she accidentally dropped a water container on a little chick and he died. And she had written a letter of apology to her father stating her truth and how sorry she was.

    She also had stolen a cookie and ate it. A cookie that was for a bake sale, she took and didn’t pay for it. This had her crying uncontrollably on the top bunk she still sleeps on. Those were the two blackest marks on her reputation that we could find.

    She said she wasn’t perfect, that she has other things she has done. I said great, give me what you have so we can balance this scale.

    I asked if she had a husband I didn’t know about.
    Nope, none.

    I asked if she had a few kids off to the side somewhere, and nope that wasn’t true.

    I asked if she had experience with men that I was unaware of, and nope she had none.

    We searched her and I for things to put on the scale to make it more even, so she could carry equal weight, for this to not be so lopsided, and nothing could we drag up besides one dead chick and a stolen cookie.

    It just seemed incredible that one young lady of 20 years old had so little to add.

    I told her I would give her a few points for each.

    And now lets look at what He brought.

    She said we didn’t need to do that.

    We didn’t.

    What is so strikingly stunning is in this case, there literally is a girl with the past of one accidentally killed chick and one ‘stolen’ cookie standing up against a man who cheated on his wife, who single handedly change her from a chicken killing thief to being seen by our little community into a soiled dove.

    A dove whose wings were clipped before she even had a chance to use them.

    Her Lilly white reputation is laying on the ground in a dirty mess; she simply did not have the experience to match this man.

    Nothing in her past prepared her for this.

    She unwittingly followed where he led.

    It is an unknown as to what would have happened if the wife didn’t find the text he sent to my daughter, asking her if she could talk.
    How far would he have gone?
    How far would she have followed?

    I am so grateful it was stopped when it was.

    That now, added to the list of chicken killing cookie thief, we have a girl who listened to a married man.

    She listened with compassion, with kindness, with trust, while going against what her inside told her.

    And when it was discovered that they were caught, she literally faced the wife, face-to-face, eye-to-eye, woman-to-girl, and said how sorry she was, how she felt, and owned up to her part.

    What more could a mother ask for?

    She faced in truth and felt the weight of her actions and admitted her part, fully owing that and more.

    Being so forthright, so bold to stand in the truth makes her a very poor ‘other woman’.

    In her innocence, she felt that by meeting them with openness and admitting her part, that perhaps, they would give her the same courtesy, it was denied.

    She didn’t get back once again, what she gave to them.

    Instead the wife threw the first ball to smear her reputation, the first glob of mud landed within the hour of my daughter leaving her home.

    Ugly accusations were posted on her facebook wall.

    No matter how kind, how loving, how remorseful, how sorry, how caring, how trusting she is, they fail to see it, and instead of just the husband soiling her, now the wife has joined his team.

    My little girl wanted me to speak to him…oh honey, I have nothing to say to him.

    Silence is the only kindness I can offer.

    My ears are for her.
    My eyes for her.
    My hand for her.

    All I have to give is for her.

    There is no part of me that is interested in what he has to say, what he wants to show me…nothing.

    I will stand with innocence.
    I will walk with my daughter, head held high while they lob dirt upon us, while they label us, and shout unkind things behind our backs, I will continue to walk forward.

    I have no time to give for the reasons they are doing these unkind things, it matters not.

    The only thing that matters in all of this is her.

    Oh, the easy job I have, to be with her innocence.
    How wonderful it is to sit with her and share this spot.

    It matters not rats ass, what ‘others’ say about her, no one can change my mind, weaken my stance, shake my firm ground, I know who my daughter is.

    She is a chicken killing, cookie stealing girl who listened and followed a married man as he walked her down the trail away from her innocent self.

    She has two choices to pick from, a life with him or one without.

    We can’t make the choices for her, all we can do is sit back and let her decide, which home, his or ours makes her feel her brightest.

    Which man in her life, her father or this man make her feel special and loved?

    Which woman, his wife or I, honor her truth?

    The choice seems simple on my side, but I understand how you can get flipped upside down and backwards in abuse.

    So, I am here to be her clarity as my wise brother suggested I do.

    I will listen as she struggles in finding her balance again.

    She knows what she lost inside, she knows she has work to do to get it back, and she has the perfect environment to do this.

    I no longer question my clarity, my wisdom or my love.

    I am way beyond okay!

  • The Wise Listened

    I only spent one hour in her presence and wanted to follow her home, and in fact we may have been behind her motor home as she left our town, I had the chance but turned off as our road appeared, allowing her to leave me wanting more.

    It wasn’t so much her story but rather the affirmations I felt as I listened to her.  I wanted more.

    Her story and mine shared some similar roads, and I could see how her courage was grown, how she shined in her individuality how comfortable she is in her skin, although I know it wasn’t always so.

    She spoke of her childhood in a tone of ‘this is what it was’ marveling with us and showing us how those steps were gifts that she used to become who she is today. 

    Dr. Maya Angelou.

    From an abused mute child to one who had us all sitting in rapt attention to each word, insight and profound wisdom she uttered.

    Maybe we can’t listen to another until they have something worthwhile to share.

    She has enough wisdom inside, and I feel I just got one little tiny peek.

    A peek of who I will be!

    She makes life seem only worthwhile if it is colorful; with characters and scenes that put fiction to shame.

    It’s like the more you suffer, the better the storyteller you will become and how much more interesting the story will be to tell.

    She didn’t hide the ‘shameful’ parts, rather she allowed them their truths to stand equal to the kinder parts, the happier times and she weaved them all together into one strand of self.

    The audience followed her as she led us on her journey as we sampled a few moments of significance that made her who she is today.

    A colorful woman telling us this isn’t a rehearsal, so get on and live life.

    Thanks Dr. Maya Angelou for taking the journey to come and speak to us today.

    We are just another spot on her journey, and she a spot in ours.

    A connection and energy exchanged.

    I left feeling she was giving us a hand up, as she reminded us of all who came before us, what their cost was, and how we don’t have the right to waste our time being less than who we can be.

     A wise woman sat on that stage and the wise listened.