Happy New Year, Bonne Année, Buon Anno and Blwyddyn Newydd Dda

The End...

... of collage journal No. 2. I thought I'd spent 10 minutes on the last pages, at least, it felt like 10 minutes, but the clock said one hour plus. This is the definition of "timelessness."

Olympic tales

Miss Cleo is getting ready for the Winter Olympics. She has never seen snow before (wot's this, Ma?). The Weather Spirit obliged by sending snow down on McKinney, Texas.

The mittens sold out very quickly, but Hudson's Bay restocked and finally got mine yesterday. Made in Canada, all proceeds going to our athletes. Along with the T-shirt (Inuit graphics), this pair is going to some very special people.

The week inbetween

My second collage journal, inspired by the Teesha Moore method, is a sort of meditation in that it focuses me and shuts out all other "noises".

It also gives me the opportunity to indulge my sense of colour without having to go to my easel and paint on canvas. Space is at a premium right now, and I'll be decluttering soon to usher in the new year. Decluttering is an ongoing thing ... because nature abhors a vacuum.

Boxing Day in Toronto.
Wet. Misty.

I may go to Canadian Tire for the sales (DVD players under $20, and I want one -- I may be the only person I know who doesn't have a DVD player). But we'll see. First I have to go and feed, water and play with Coco and Calypso.

[This clay heart is available in my blogshop. Three more are available on eBay.]

A Christmas Story

Christmas Eve.
I call a friend in Falls Church, Virginia, to get Angela's phone number in England. She's not home.
So I calculate the 16-hour difference between here and Australia, and I catch T. as she's going out the door. I get A's phone number. Now I have to calculate the 5 hours' difference between here and England. When the time is right over there I call Angela.

She's so surprised. I think about you often, she says, and now here you are, and on Christmas Eve! We reconnect, but we also agree that we really haven't disconnected at all. We have this network of friends on three continents. We talk of others we know and knew, we catch up. I learn that Maura owns a place in Deauville, although she moved back to her native Ireland. Deauville!!!!! Nice. And it's so easy now to shoot over to France and back.

Angela asks me if I'm still in touch with David. No, we lost touch but I would love to find him again. Does she know? She doesn't. The Internet has yielded nothing, and I don't expect it to, given his high profile.

After the Christmas Eve festivities, on my way to bed, tired and sleepy, I suddenly wake up and go to my bookshelf. Yes! I've kept my old address books from Washington, Dublin, etc. There's David's address and phone number. What are the chances he's still there? I remember the house and the garden, quite lovely, so perhaps they stayed there. Perhaps. I'll try the phone number and see what happens.

But not right now. I have to go and feed a couple of cats next door. And play with them. And talk to them.
Many happinesses to you all!

HAPPY HOLIDAYS!

My other life and Christmas miracles

Yesterday I mentioned Washington, D.C., in my post about Schubert. Today a letter arrives from one of my Washington, D.C., friends. We are all dispersed now, Angela in England, gets a call from Trish in Australia, they talk about me, and here we are in a grand reunion that feels as if we've been having tea every afternoon for the last 30 years. Angela tells me she is something of a Luddite, has never had the Internet and can't follow my progress online. So she typed me a letter! Yes!!! She also enclosed a newspaper clipping.

David Walker was a great friend of mine. When my husband was killed, I called him from a public phone at Heathrow Airport telling him the news. He had met my husband (they were both economists) and after a shocked silence, he told me to hold tight and he would write and tell me what to do (he did). That was David: he would find a way to fix it. At the time, although it would change nothing for me, he was like a raft in the middle of a deadly choppy sea that I clung to. David, well, I should address him by his title I guess -- Sir David, it's a little shock to discover that someone you know has been knighted -- was one of those people who come into your life and pull you up to new heights. When I sat for the Oxford University  matriculation exams at his recommendation, he was appointed to handle it (I took the exams in Washington; I passed the exams but went to Trinity College Dublin instead; it was my destiny). At the time, he had been seconded from the Bank of England to the IMF. I had such good times with him and his family. Long story short, I lost touch with him when I came back to North America, and yet, here he is. I will have to find his email and say: Surprise!

And although Angela has no Internet, I will never fall out of touch with her again. As for Trish, she is the glue between us, all the way from Australia. I have never fallen out of touch with her.

With Open Heart, Part 2

So -- I followed the instructions carefully, made the flour/water paste and papier-mache'd the birds I fashioned out of clay. I did not like the paste, not a bit. No. The effect was not to my liking. So I put them away with the thought that I might figure out how to make them more pleasing, sometime in the future, whenever, it doesn't matter.

Instead I made these hearts and used paint and modge podge. I'll save the flour for baking, thank you!

Serenade

My friend Carol and I went to see Victoria the other day. While we both enjoyed the movie, it had an added dimension for me. Running through the story was Schubert's Serenade. It's the music that's playing as you read this. It turns out that it PrinceAlbert was a Schubert fan. It brought back vivid memories for me, of the time I was auditing a class at Johns Hopkins School of Advanced International Studies, or SAIS, in Washington, D.C., where I lived for a number of years.

There was a room in the basement that had a piano, and every so often I would go there and play. I was short on music sheets and very soon playing from memory wasn't enough (or frustrating because I had forgotten a lot of what I'd learned in my years of piano, begun at the tender age of 5 years old, frustrating not to remember two-thirds of Chopin's Polonaise or Listz's Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2 .....)

So one day I lifted the piano bench and went through the music books in there. I found several pieces that looked interesting, and they became favorites. One of them was Schubert's Serenade. I fell in love with it and would play it over and over. If memory serves, the other pieces were Georgia on my Mind and None but the Lonely Heart by one of the Tchaikovskys.

Memory is a potent thing. Music can take me back to a time where every note comes alive and I remember it all so well. Sometimes it fills me with joy, and sometimes it squeezes my heart so much that I can't listen to it. Not until the memory has softened.

I've kept my music all these years because you never know when you'll come across a piano, do you!

With open heart

I've posted my little hearts here on my blog more than once. They are in the upcoming issue of Somerset Life (January 1), and I also got to write the story about these little hearts and how they came about. This article is for Joy, and Sylvie, and Mai, and Robyn, my good friends and brave breast cancer survivors, and for all those who carry emotional burdens in their hearts for whom I wish lightness and letting-go-ness and healing.

Love, Colette

Congratulations to Christen

Christen Olivarez is the new Director of Publications of Stampington and Company, the post left vacant by Jenny Doh, who has launched her "brilliant [new] career" with Crescendoh.com

I've worked with Christen, and have also had the pleasure of meeting her in person. She's wonderful to work with and I'm very happy for her!

Congratulations Christen!

So it begins

Christmas week. My life continues as normal because I have little to do having been better organized this year. This evening I go to meet two felines that I'll be cat-sitting while their caregiver spends Christmas in Montreal. One of them is named Coco, my childhood moniker. I hope it doesn't get confusing.....

Yesterday while at the library I rescued a book from the discarded pile for 50 cents. I liked the size and the look of it inside. I took the dust jacket off when I got home and was rewarded with this lovely cover! Rescuing books has its rewards.

In the meantime

Phase one in bird-making is teaching me patience (again!). The clay is supposed to be dry in 24 hours so I made these last night. When dry, they will be covered in papier mâché, which will smooth out some of the odd bumps (I hope), then wire feet will be added, they'll be painted....and, one day, they will be finished!

Chirp!

Olympic Torch

Yesterday evening, I watched -- along with thousands of other people lining Yonge St. -- the Olympic torch bearer jog along surrounded by trucks, music, police on bicycles and as well as in squad cars, to the cheers and roars of the crowd. It was a fantastic experience, one I would not have missed for the world. There was a very special feeling in the air, of huge support for our athletes as well as national pride. It was quite emotional, and once again I gave thanks for being able to live in such a great country. We may be small, we may be quiet, but in the main we have it really really good!

Reminder

Be open to new experiences, trust your gut wisdom, expect good fortune, see the bright side of challenging events, and master the art of maximizing serendipitous opportunities. -- Richard Wiseman

Vignette

The inner girl-child still plays with dolls. Although I don't recall playing with dolls as a child; I don't even recall having a doll. I do recall picture books, then reading books. And a live tortoise, a little one.

Mini art quilts

I do love making these. I dyed a batch of muslin in red and blue-green, and I've been happily tearing and stitching. Need a stocking stuffer? Check out my blog shop. Bookmark it and come and visit often. You might just find items you've been looking for, or something new entirely! Thank you!

Monday tenderness

That was the week that was

And it was crammed. Even so, I managed to pace myself. I'm getting better at doing what's best for me, and that is everything in moderation.

Wishing you a safe and peaceful weekend!

Authentically Jenny

She gave me my big chance and changed my artistic life. She introduced me to the wondertful people at Stampington with whom I'm love working. She says that art saves lives, and it certainly does. I know it has saved me many, many times. Jenny Doh will always have my undying affection and loyalty. As editor in chief at Stampington, she has done wonders, not just for Stampington but for all artists who have come into contact with her. When I met her in March, she told me about her background in social work, so I wasn't surprised to see how great she was with her staff and colleagues. A people person, for sure.
Now Jenny is embarking on a new path, combing all her skills in a new venture called CRESCENDoh.com
I am honored and privileged to be a part of it in the future. I hope you will wish her all the success in the world and check in with CRESCENDoh.com in the new year.

I'm sure we will all miss her at Stampington, but she is following her heart and I can only wish her the very best of everything, because she deserves it!

Friday's child

Accept what you can't change, and change what you can. -- Voltaire

You'll see many versions of this sentiment, but I have yet to see it attributed to the author. I did my B.A. thesis on Voltaire, so I know something about him....

I made this heart for someone who has been very good to me. It's simple, but the message is powerful.

So -- the clouds dispersed, the sun came out, and the headache has abated. These headaches are purely barometric. This is why sticking pins into me, hypnosis, and sometimes (only sometimes) medication doesn't work for me.

I made this. The silver star is from a gift from my good friend and fab artist Martha.

This is the only day this week that I have to myself, which is a blessing because I'm beset by barometric headaches these days. And it's no wonder when you go from a sunny morning to a snowy mid-morning. That's the kind of rapid barometric movement that gives me headaches.

But -- I've learned to live with the headaches. Ibuprofen doesn't always work, not even at 800 mg. Life can't stop because of a headache. So on I go. Just try and stop me!

Celebrating books

This photo was taken in the bookstore I work in once a week. I have no idea what I was laughing at, and I have no idea why it's fuzzy. Artistic licence? too much wine? Never mind. Laughter is good. [P.S. This was after hours...drinking on the job is not allowed!]

Unlock the mystery

We were talking about mysteries and that's when I got the idea to make her this gift: a key to unlock the mystery. The best gifts are those that are tailored to the person you're giving the gift to.

The art of keys

Keys open things: hearts, doors, kingdoms, secrets, boxes, mysteries....

Their time has come: I pulled out all the keys I've collected over the years and I'm a little obsessed with dressing them up. They make me happy; they charm me!

The elves and I

Most of my Christmas cards are made and I promised myself I would get them in the mail this weekend. I'm using my little Christmas robin (at least, my version of a robin) for some of my cards, and now they are migrating to tags.

Every year I say I'm not going to get caught in a last-minute rush, and yet I usually do. This year I intend to keep my word.

Canine haiku

I lie belly-up

in the sunshine, happier than

you will ever be

Dog haiku -- author unknown.

My cup runneth over

Two more magazines arrived today: Belle Armoire Jewelry and....surprise! Somerset Studio Gallery.

The Belle Armoire piece was a collaboration between me and Diane Cook, who came to me with her idea to make jewelry folders for her beautiful jewelry. The result is this article: The Art of Presentation, by Christen Olivarez who did us both proud!

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When I saw This, I was puzzled. Moi? In Somerset Studio Gallery? What could be in there?? When I flipped through the pages, there was Santa. I'd forgotten all about him.

Hope

"Hope is the thing with feathers..."

"That perches in the soul, And sings the tune--without the words, And never stops at all"

Words by Emily Dickinson

Hope stamp by Jenny Doh

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This assemblage is available in my shop.