Hello, Garden. I've Been Waiting For You.

My garden is waking up again. Each trip outside brings intense moments of joy as I discover more plants inching their way up through the soil and bits of autumn debris, first revealing green tips and then, a few days later, the flowers with their beautiful colours. Goodbye grey and brown! The crocuses in the backyard were the first to emerge. Now they have started to bloom in the front too. There are dwarf irises and scilla too. Interesting that the tiniest flowers are the most courageous ones, daring to appear when the snow has barely melted.

I often say that 'I need my garden and my garden needs me'. This year, it could not be more true. I found this winter to be tough. Ever since the U.S. election, I've been feeling a lot of anxiety about the world. That made it hard to think that painting flowers was important when there were so many scary things going on. I got stuck for a little while. But I think I've come to terms with the fact that small things are important. Like paying attention to nature. Celebrating it. Respecting and nurturing it. Creating art. Painting flowers. Being true to myself. All of these things are valid and positive ways to contribute to the world.

I don't make a big income with my art but I have also tried the last few months to contribute, when I can, to organizations who are trying to make a difference in the world. I believe that tiny gestures do count and they are a way of being engaged in positive change.

Those of you who follow me on Instagram will know that the past few weeks have been particularly stressful as my dog Meeko needed to have unexpected abdominal surgery four weeks ago, just days after his seventh birthday. What seemed like minor digestive issues initially were actually much more serious. He has been diagnosed with a chronic intestinal condition. There were some very emotional days the week of his surgery but I am happy to report that he is doing really well. With medication and a strict diet, our vet is confident that his condition can be controlled. He got his stitches out a week ago and we can now go on our walks together again. He is happy and acting like himself (once again monitoring the neighbourhood squirrels and cats). I am so glad to have my buddy by my side again.

Oh! And another bit of good news. My tea cards were featured in the May 2017 issue of Romantic Homes magazine. It's a really lovely magazine and the May issue is available on newsstands now.

Today I picked the first garden bouquet of this year. It contains dwarf irises, crocuses and a scilla sprig. It was a way to celebrate Easter and the return of my garden. An emissary of more positive days ahead. A sweet handful of hope.

New Beginnings

It's a new year. A new year signifies a chance to do things differently. It represents hope. A new beginning. But I haven't painted in eight weeks. I have found myself to be in the middle of a creative block. It was partly triggered by the political uncertainty in the world since the US election and my desolation at how it felt like forces of intolerance and hatred were winning. I also was wracked with doubts about my art business and frustrated by the ongoing challenge of finding the right audience for my paintings.

It hasn't been a complete creative block as I gave myself permission to divert my attention from painting to other creative things--things that required wider focus and less concentration. I repainted the walls of our upstairs hallway. I installed new picture rails to display my art and others. I framed art, mine and pieces I had purchased from friends. I built a simple wood bed frame with Chloé for her room. I reorganized shelves and drawer contents. I've been reading. I walk with Meeko every day. I thought of all of the good people I know. I've spent time with family and friends.

If I was to look at the whole of 2016 in a personal way, it was the year of the neck and back. I had to slow down for several weeks in the early summer after being diagnosed with arthritis in my neck. Physiotherapy has helped so much. I've learned to stand and sit up straighter. This past week, there was a new challenge. I began suffering from dizzy spells. They were scary at first but they have been diagnosed as muscular in origin--my trapezius muscle probably irritated after a vigorous hike over the holidays. My physiotherapist thinks that the dizziness should be resolved in a few days. What a relief. I can't wait for them to be gone. My neck and back keep sending me signals. Don't take things for granted. Look after yourself. Stand up straight.

So I am determined to paint again. To feel hope about the state of the world. To help when I can. To stay aware but not to the point of paralysis. To take moments to appreciate the beauty of nature. To create. To concentrate on those I do reach with my art and to worry less about those I don't. To surround myself with caring people with good hearts. To listen to my aging body but to work with it and remind it that 'hey buddy, we still have plenty we need to do together'. To concentrate on art and love and hope.

This morning we woke to sunshine and a magical garden covered in hoar frost. I went out in my pajamas to photograph it for you! These photos of ice and light seem to be the perfect representation of where I've been lately and where I am right now. Frozen but allowing the light to get in.

I'm not sure what I am going to paint when I get back into my studio next week but I look forward to being there. And I want you to know that I'm really glad you are here with me.

My garden wakes up and I move forward

How do you spell joyful? How do you spell happy? How do you spell uplifted spirits? I believe they are all spelled G-A-R-D-E-N.

These photos were taken this morning on a little stroll through my back and front gardens. I mention the backyard first because that's usually where my walks begin--out the back door with Meeko by my side. This time of year is bursting with daily changes. I do regular inspections of shoots and buds knowing that more and more blossoms are on their way. The anticipation is delicious. The birds have been so loud (in a good way) the past few days. They are my marker that spring has truly arrived. There was a little song sparrow earlier today singing his little heart out. He perches in the neighbour's tree and I always like to imagine from year to year that it is the same little fellow. 

Spring. So much activity. So much life. So much to look forward to.

I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for the beautiful words of encouragement that you wrote for me after my last post. I had tears in my eyes as I read them--not of sadness, more of amazement and gratitude for the wonderful, eloquent, big-hearted bunch of people who gather here. Thank you as well for the honesty that you spoke of your own art and struggles.  There is enormous strength in knowing that we are not alone in our worries and challenges.

Many of my posts are about ordinary things on ordinary days, but I have to say that when I have spoken up about deeper and more difficult things, the response has always been quite amazing. I find it extraordinary that we are able to make connections and establish friendships in what could be a cold and impersonal forum. I was thinking that the only thing missing at times like that is a big pot of tea or coffee or a bottle of wine in the middle of the table as we share our opinions and experiences.

I've put my setback behind me and have been painting this week and finding joy and satisfaction in it. I hope you are able to find time for creative pleasures this week whatever your medium. A big, big hug to you all.

Don't Give Up

Walking away from something temporarily can sometimes be a good thing.  The crocus painting that I showed you in my last post did not end up in the garbage after all.

This is the point it was at when I was going to give up on it.

I went back to work on it yesterday afternoon and today.  Now am feeling better about it.

It is back to being quite cold here today.  Last week, people were wearing shorts and sandals here. Today I was back in a winter coat with a scarf and gloves. But I don't mind. With cooler, more normal spring weather, the display in my garden will last longer.  The way it was going, summer was going to arrive before spring even had a chance!

Here's a quote I found today that works quite well with my crocus painting challenge.

When the world says "Give up,"
Hope whispers, "Try it one more time."
Source unknown

Welcome Spring!

Welcome Spring! Thank you for arriving in such a lovely way this year. My garden is coming alive and my heart is full of renewed promise and hope. I love this time of year!

A Bird Nest is a Symbol of Hope

This sweet bird nest lives in my house.  I was very lucky to find this original watercolour under the Christmas tree--a gift from my husband.  I love it.  I also love its artist--Jody Edwards.

A lot has gone on this past week.  A week ago, Jody found this very nest and several of her feather images in the Etsy shop and on the blog of a German artist. Through hours of detective work, Jody tracked down three other Etsy artists who had their work copied by the same person.  The copied images are gone now but the past week has been a week of pain, anger, and frustration for Jody. I got involved because Jody is my friend and I feel sick when artists, especially friends, go through this kind of thing.  I ended up being labeled a 'hater' and 'bully' for standing up for Jody and the other artists by saying that the other artist was wrong to do what she did.  While she has apologized that others saw a resemblance in what she was selling (they were identical), she still claims never to have seen Jody's work before. Yesterday, despite two walks with Meeko in the forest, I was in and out of tears. I was feeling disappointed with the world, discouraged with what that means for my daughters in the future and reeling from the names I had been called.  I have taught Emma and Chloé to stand up and speak out when things are wrong. It is a strong message in our household, not to mention their school. I thought, if this is what happens when you do speak up, had I taught them the right thing?

But, do you know what? This is a new month. Bird nests, especially those filled with tiny, sweet eggs, are symbols of hope and love.  Here is a list of good and wonderful things I can take from the past week:

I am thankful for my friendship with Jody. Who knew that an email I sent her last October on Etsy telling her how much I loved her watercolours would turn into such a special and supportive friendship. We have our painting styles, motherhood and a sense of humour in common.  It turns out that she grew up just minutes away from my sister's house. My sister now owns some of her originals too. I encourage you to have a look at her beautiful paintings, maybe even say hello to her.

I am thankful for my beautiful friend Colette who sent me the most amazing email one morning this week full of words that had nothing to do with me being a bully or hater without knowing how very much I needed to hear them. She is also the sweetheart who delivered that bouquet of Valentine candles to me.

I am thankful for my sweet friend Lucile who took time at midnight in Paris to send me words of encouragement when I told her that I was feeling discouraged this month about my art and Etsy. I am also the proud owner of two of Lucile's original paintings and I will show you them some day.

I am thankful that a stranger named Mary Jo took the time to leave a sweet and kind comment here after I visited her new blog, a welcome place of peace and beauty called Still.

I am thankful for the internet. Though this past week, I started to think of it as the big, bad internet and it definitely has that side, it has been the source of the most wonderful creative inspiration and beautiful friendships. There are a lot of very nice people out there and I am lucky to know so many of them. I am thankful for knowing Geninne, Margie and Arounna...and there are so many others that I can't list you all here as I would be afraid to leave someone out and hurt your feelings. I appreciate each and every one of you.

I am thankful for my daughters. They are kind, sensitive and wise. They are so supportive of my painting efforts--"Mama, go upstairs and paint!". They have a true sense of integrity, not to mention wonderful senses of humour (they are slightly nutty). For everything I teach them, they teach me something back.

I am thankful for my parents because I know that my moral core comes from what they taught me when I was young. I am also happy to say that my Mom is doing really well these days.

I am thankful for Meeko and how he gets me outside even on days when it's icy and horribly frigid, and the unconditional furry love he gives me throughout each day.

I am thankful for my husband and the gift of this painting. And Jody again, for making this beautiful bird nest, this symbol of hope, something that I get to look at each and every day.

One more thing:  I am thankful that January is over! :)

Hope     

Hope is the thing with feathers 

That perches in the soul, 

And sings the tune--without the words, 

And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard; 

And sore must be the storm 

That could abash the little bird 

That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land, 

And on the strangest sea; 

Yet, never, in extremity, 

It asked a crumb of me.

Emily Dickinson

Bird nests and feathers are symbols of hope.

The Rainbow is Growing

Here's a rainbow that stretches from my paintbox to Lake Muskoka where my mom lives.  My daughters Chloé and Emma are working on paintings that might get added tomorrow.

For anyone wondering what all these rainbows mean, I can say this.  My mom is going through something very difficult.  I got the news Tuesday night and then woke up to a beautiful rainbow on Wednesday morning.  As my youngest daughter said to me, 'You saw it as a sign because that's what you do.'  She knows her mom. :)

I posted the photo of the rainbow I saw with a message to my mom and she appreciated it.  Then my friends Lucile and Julie forwarded rainbow photos of their own for me to post for her (see the previous post). My mom appreciated them too. So if there can be a little hope and encouragement provided from here while she really needs it, it seems only right to add a few more rainbows. ♥

A Rainbow of Best Wishes

Here is an absolutely beautiful rainbow sent all the way from Paris to my Mom from my sweet friend Lucile.

Here is a stunning double rainbow sent to my Mom by my fellow artist Julie who lives in England.  This particular photo was taken in Burnsall in the Yorkshire Dales. Julie lives in Wakefield which is not very far from where my Mom's great-great-grandfather lived (in Howden). I think that's kind of cool!

And here's a beautiful quote I found:

Courage is like love; it must have hope for nourishment.
Napoleon Bonaparte

If you have a photo or picture of a rainbow* that you would like me to share with my Mom, I will post it here. You can send it to me at kathleenmaunder at gmail.com ♥


*I would just ask that it be an image that belongs to you.