I told my mom I was going to run away
from home. When I went to the closet
to get my coat, I saw some dresses
that my mom had been sewing for my
birthday. All of a sudden I didn’t want
to run away anymore. I felt so loved.
I found my mom and thanked her for
the dresses. She was mad ‘cuz
they were supposed to be a surprise.
Then I wanted to run away again.
TFL,
~jane swanson
This is another spread done based on the weekly prompt. It is pretty personal and I thought of not posting it but then maybe this will resonate with someone else. The prompt for me brought up re-learning to feel and to love since this is something that affected my husband and I. Then it brought up rage over abuse in general against people who are bullies, whether they be terrorists, sociopaths etc. My husband’s step-father was very abusive to him and it has profoundly affected his life. He excused it for a long time because he felt so defeated, but now he has gained self-respect and knows he didn’t, nor does anyone deserve to be mistreated. I just can’t stand how easily some people justify horrendous actions. So the spread says, “To those who would abuse, oppress, and destroy—We declare War! The page has a drawing that my husband did about the way his step-dad made him feel as a child. Real men don’t abuse children. His dad thought he had to beat him to make him tough and a ‘real man’. There will be hell to pay. I have to believe there is ultimate justice in the world and that people who do these types of things will somehow get what’s coming to them.
Page 1 of 2 – The sticker scanned really dark – it says Sunday.
Page 2 of 2.
I liked this Spark a lot. Listing out your thoughts. I will do this again over and over in my journal.
My mother and I have a wonderful relationship. I gave her one hell of a time during my teenage years, but fortunately we got through those tough years and ended up becoming very close friends. She is my closest ally, my most trusted confidante, one of my most respected and beloved friends. I admire her strength, her sacrifices and her accomplishments.
These photos were recently taken at her house during a spontanteous moment of silliness. It is always great spending time with her, especially when we allow life to slow down enough for us to truly enjoy and fully exist in moments such as this one.
Acrylic paints, oil pastels, stamps
Blue Funk, Singing the Blues, Blue Monday
Lately I’ve been feeling blue. In every sense of the colour. When I sat down to catch up on week seven (ONE prompt) all that came out was blue. Usually I love blue, it reminds me of the ocean, the sky, the colour of my dogs’ collar and practically everything my son chooses for himself. To me, blue is passionate. It can be calming as well as turbulent and I welcome both. These days, however, the color has defined itself to me in a less passionate sense..a blah blue, one representative of sadness, depression and fear. The blue that shades everything when someone you love dies or when you feel you’ve failed. Even though I love the shades on this page, the colors along with the face represent the cold and paralyzing grip of depression and sadness that often settles on us unexpectedly. It’s been a difficult week and deep down I believe that time helps to heal that which we feel is unhealable.
I haven’t been able to do a prompt the same week as it came in for a while, so it was a joy to do this today. I loved the idea of daring yourself to leave the space so I took it further with the righthand page (those intentionally left blank pages always crack me up somehow!).
Just realised you can’t read the journalling too well on here, so this is what was on my mind today:
10. What will come next… G8?
9. There are still people missing
8. Clothes shopping (there is a doodle about that by it)
7. Lambeth course tomorrow
6. MUSIC & POWER for the ZEN MICRO
5. I need a new inhaler
4. VANCOUVER baby
3. Done & Dusted CLASS
2. What a GREAT weekend
1. English Viva Today
I started with the bottom and added a line on top each time.
I’ve had so many ideas for this week’s prompt I had to jot them down throughout the day so I remember to do them! I think I can comfortably get at least four out of it.
I chose to do this one first because I’m really not the most feminine of women and every so often I have to get a ‘touch of pink’ in my life again. And because I like to remind myself of one of the most important things my mum taught me – that no matter what, if you love something enough to work hard at it, anything is possible.
Journaling:My mother darned my first pair of ballet pointes. She made me sit with her, watching the graceful dance of thread and needle over silk, learning to create beauty from a single strand of plain fibre. I learned very early in life that I would never be as beautiful as the screen godesses I idolised.But when I danced, I FELT beautiful. I felt graceful and light and like anything was possible. Hard work would get you through and a smattering of grace, a pretty smile and a genuine, soul-deep love of whatever you were doing helped. As my mother darned my pointes, she told me that she was proud of me. That she thought I was the best ballet dancer she had ever seen. But, she said, just because you didn’t wear ballet shoes, didn’t mean you couldn’t dance. There is dance all around us she said, if you just be still and listen for the music. And I saw it. I watched her thread the needle through the silk, wind, sweep, flex, relax, I watched the rhythm and heard the music and I saw it. The dance of her fingers, hard at work.
Quote: Life is a dance; grace dances on blistered feet (Alice Abram)
