the X facta: March 2010

Soul brew spot

The Tea Chest

I have a collection of teapots, and a very few teacups and saucers. A couple were gifts, but mostly they were treasures I unearthed in opshops or garage sales. In our new house they are stored up high on top of our kitchen cabinetry. Unfortunately it means I don't get to use all of them very often. Although I do have a couple stored at bench height, for everday use. But at least my teapot collection remains in view.

You see, teapots hold significant soul power for me. They symbolise a conscious decision to slow down, stop and smell the roses and embrace a more contemplative lifestyle.

In fact, the tea chest pictured above is an altar of sorts. You may recall I posted on altars here and here. Brewing tea in a pot - measuring out the leaves, pre-warming the pot, setting out a cup and saucer - is a small ritual which helps me enter a contemplative frame of mind.

What small rituals do you have that invite you into soulspace?

Seeing Easter right side up

My prose piece, upside down easter, was originally published online here at the X facta last year. In the same week, The New York Times picked up on it as a link.

This year it's been published on paper in an ecumenical resource book released for Easter 2010.

Philip Culbertson, Episcopalian priest, psychotherapist and professor, sought permission to use it in his introductory editorial for New Proclamation's recent release. Hailing from USA, but having spent 10 years or more in New Zealand, Philip has experienced Easter in both the northern and southern hemispheres. So he "got" what I was saying when I wrote:

it's not about eggs
chocolate or otherwise
Upside Down Easter, by Kel © 2009
or cute little chickens
or even spring flowers
Upside Down Easter, by Kel © 2009
in fact
here in the land downunder
it's not even spring!
Upside Down Easter, by Kel © 2009
we here are living in autumn days
where leaves brown, die and drop
to the ground
Upside Down Easter, by Kel © 2009
for us
good friday sits well
within this season of dying
Upside Down Easter, by Kel © 2009
but easter sunday
with bunnies, bonnets, eggs and daffodils
seems so out of place
Upside Down Easter, by Kel © 2009
perhaps that is how it is
for us, this nation
formed by convicts and larrikins

we understand this
harshness, unjustness
and to lay down one's life for mateship
Upside Down Easter, by Kel © 2009
but spring is six months away
how much more faith
we must need
Upside Down Easter, by Kel © 2009
to believe
in resurrection
so fast and unseasonal Upside Down Easter, by Kel © 2009

As a writer, or creative in general, it's always interesting to see what happens when ideas or topics are bounced around. Unfortunately, due to population counts, the blogosphere (along with TV and other media) is mostly north-centric. Christmas snow and Easter bunnies are so irrelevant to the corresponding seasons in the southern hemisphere. That is why I don't relate to, or participate much in, online conversations about traditional Christian themes surrounding these events.

I get sick of hanging upside down off the monkey bars, trying to see things from the north-centric perspective. So I love what Philip says in his introduction. Like my prose, his editorial invites readers from around the globe to consider Easter from a different perspective. One that might actually be truer to the original experience.

What he wrote was all good, but here's a few little excerpts that particularly bounce off the "upside down easter" concept:

To celebrate Eastertide as nature falls dormant in the Autumn is a very different experience from celebrating Easter and Eastertide as nature wakes up in the spring . . .
We must be able to celebrate Easter wherever we find it, and it seems more motivating to do that when our hope is contradicted by the environment, rather than supported by it. And yet it is perhaps the case that the contradiction is more like that first Easter experience.

. . . Life is rarely about unadulterated joy. Life is more often about joy mixed with despair, or disappointment, or sadness; about trying to find an Easter moment in a season of darkness; about the incongruity of celebrating new hope as nature around us is falling asleep.

Philip concedes that for those living in the northern hemisphere, holding together images of Easter and autumn leaves might not be easy. But he goes on to add, Christianity was countercultural then, and should be countercultural now - "fast and unseasonal".

Fellow southern hemisphereans, we have something to celebrate. Our experience has been acknowledged. Our voice has been heard! In fact it may be echoing from pulpits around the globe next weekend.

Any northerners, who have read this far, I invite you to hang upside down off the monkey bars for a change. May you experience, perhaps for the first time, an upside down easter. You might even find that it feels a more appropriate perspective. After all, the Easter story from Palm Sunday to Easter Sunday, is all about tipping people's expectations upside down.

~Kel

Blessing 3:4

for the grieving

dark is the night you find yourself in
groping around in grief
trying to find something
or someone
to hang onto

as you sit in this space of no light
trying to see anything
that makes sense
let your eyes adjust
to the dark

and then may you see
me sitting here
with you
wordlessly numb
but here all the same

may in some small way
it help you feel
less alone
with someone to hang onto
when you're weak from sobbing

let the tears of another
mingle with yours
and as the light dawns
together we will gather
the salt crystals

for seasoning
this bitter serve

~Kel
© 2010

S-T-R-E-T-C-H

Joined a group in the park for a workshop on landscape pastel paintings, tutored by a well-known local artist.

I knew it would be out of my comfort zone. I prefer to create symbolic, expressive, gestural work, not realistic landscapes or portraits.

We were each given two sheets of paper, told to split each in half and finish 4 paintings of the same scene in 2 hours! Phew. Into the deep end.

Talk about fish out of water . . . turns out the other 12 people in the class were experienced landscape artists.

While most people chose to paint pathways, garden beds or chairs, I focused on the waterview. But the focus on creating technically correct realist art was not fun for me. My shoulders got tense and I longed for the tutor to play some music so we could sway, sing or something to ease the tension!

While my friend and I made the most of playing artists in the park, standing at our easels in the sunshine, making a mess, I wouldn't rush to do it again.

To each his own. My bet is the experienced landscape artists there would not enjoy creating my kind of art either.
Exploring the inner landscape and putting it out there on paper takes a different kind of courage.

All up the plein-air painting in the park was a good s-t-r-e-t-c-h-i-n-g activity.

If we don't stretch ourselves we get a bit stiff, inflexible and stuck in a rut.

What have you done lately to stretch outside your usual comfort zone?

Loghenge christening

So we were finally home for a celestial event - and christened Loghenge during the Autumn equinox. A few friends came over for dinner. Between main course and dessert we walked outside and stood in the Loghenge. Prior to the sunset, I led the group in a thanksgiving circle and a shedding ritual as follows:

The autumn equinox is an opportunity to sit back and take stock of what we have gathered. To consider what we have "harvested" through the work we do, and give thanks.

Today we will consider

·what we have gathered to ourselves

·what we wish to give thanks for and keep

·and what no longer has a place in our life and can be discarded.

Autumn is traditionally seen as a harvest time.
Things are ripe for picking and we can enjoy the fruit of our labour.
As we consider what the field of our life has provided over the past year, let us offer gratitude while we face each direction:

North- give thanks for home, finances, and physical health

East – give thanks for knowledge gained and wisdom earned

South – give thanks for accomplishments in career and hobbies

West – give thanks for relationships, friends and family

(as we faced west the sun was setting)

As the sun sets, we turn to the centre,

for it is only when we are centred that we can receive spiritual insights and messages of significance.

(we lit a fire in the centre of the circle)

Autumn is also a time of shedding. A time to consider what we have gathered to ourselves or allowed into our life that we no longer need. Take a few moments to sit with these thoughts.

What do I need to shed?

Which belongings, behaviours, or attitudes, no longer serve me or contribute to my best life now.

Perhaps something needs to be released and let go for this season only, not forever?

Or perhaps there is something you know needs to be shed for good.

Let whichever thoughts arise and once recognised, give them a name.

Take a strip of paper and a crayon and write down what you need to shed.

(we stood around the fire with our strips of paper, scrunched them up into balls and threw them into the fire)

We release these things which no longer serve us.

As the smoke rises to the heavens, may we also feel a lift in our spirit.

And as we leave this place – unencumbered by stuff we no longer need - may we have a lightness of step with which to re-enter the world.

This week's art

Bubble Bobbing Seahorse
stone, copper wire & glass bead sculpture

How to create an altar

.
Following on from my original post here on
Altars @ home,
I'm guest posting over at
The Nomastery

and a first for X facta Kel

to have an article of hers tweeted

not bad for someone who isn't even on twitter ;-)

crystal cross and chartres candle
original photos by Kel

The freebie hunters

Driving home from work on Friday afternoon, after a horrendous workweek, nursing a migraine and looking forward to collapsing at home with an icepack and a dark room . . . I get a phone call from Mr X.

Some interstate relatives of his 'wondered' if they could stay with us for the weekend. And by the way, they're only 20 minutes away! They knew they would be in this area ages ago, but didn't bother to contact us till the last minute. I call that rude. Actually, I called it a bit more than that at the time.

I was already on the ferry and not about to turn back to town for the extra groceries we'd need. I hadn't done the usual Friday shop due to the migraine. So, I pulled into the driveway knowing I had about 10 mins before they would arrive.

A car pulled up right behind me, some islanders who decided right now was the time to drop in and have a look at our house. C'mon people, Friday afternoon in a house where both people work . . . obviously the retired neighbours have forgotten what that's like . . . so I did what any self-respecting person nursing a migraine and expecting unexpected weekend guests in 10 minutes would do. Threw a hissy fit. I told Mr X I could not deal with the neighbours, I was going to have a shower and would be ready for when his relatives arrived.

Somehow, through the headpain, and with very little food in the house, I managed to make up the guest room, and feed them dinner . . . then breakfast, lunch and dinner the next day. The pantry staples kept in case of emergency were cracked open. It was an emergency! Plans we had for the following day were hastily rearranged - and a personal driving tour of the Lakes area was hosted instead.

They had a great time, they said, before they headed off for the rest of their grand tour of the east coast. We probably won't hear from them for another 5 years.

The problem with having a house built to host guests is that the word spreads fast among friends and family. Which is fine if they are people who have maintained a connection and communicate with us on a regular basis. But the freebie hunters - the ones that never write, email, ring, anything, until they happen to be in the area, or want a cheap weekend away - they are the ones that are hard to handle. Any time that could be downtime for us, ends up being not. Any money that could be for having a treat like a rare meal out somewhere, gets spent on feeding other people.

It's been said we have the gift of hospitality. Sometimes I wish we didn't. Or rather, sometimes I wish other people wouldn't take advantage of it. Because then it doesn't feel like a gift. For something to be a gift, it has to be offered to you, given to you. Not taken from you.

Blessing 3:3

as you wade through air
thick with accusations
and expectations
beyond normal reach

let yourself continue to breath
it goes like this
in - then - out
slowly simply sssss

and as you breath
recall those times when
against all odds
you delivered better than expected

hold that 'wow' factor
lightly in your hand
as the gift you bring
for the deserving

cast not pearls to pigs
who trample underfoot
a pearl as if it were
a clod of dirt

and remember despite it all
that who you are
is not only what you do
but what you be

be brave
be who
you
are

Blessing 3:2

for a birthday

time ticks on
another minute, hour, day, month
another year has passed

let it be a point
to stand still and recall it all
the good, the bad, the boring

may what you have experienced
be the matter which builds
the best you there is

as you step forward into another year
may you be blessed
and be a blessing

~ Kel

This week's art

rustic bottle, mixed media on board, original art by Kel © 2010

The "Bottle Collection" series is growing every week. But the process takes a fair bit of time, with multiple layers that each require 24 hours to dry (more if hot and humid like it has been). Here is one sans label, then labelled. I think it looks a bit bare without a label. . . . hmm, perhaps I should texture a psuedo label in.

More miniature art

Storm at Sea

textured acrylic on board

18.5cm x 13cm x 1.4cm

Another series I'm working on in the studio, alongside the bottle collection, is a study of horizons. This one is just finished, another small work, following in the footsteps of Field of Vision.

Blessing 3:1

As the new season lays before you
a blank page
awaiting words

take time to breathe
and remember

what it is
you are here
for

Before you get busy
making goals
and plans

take time to breathe
and remember

which moments last season
took your breath
away

May you find, this season
ways to create more
of that

~ Kel

life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the number of moments that take our breath away ~ anonymous

Art from my past

For something different re 'this week's art" here's a peek into my past. This was my first plein air painting. It's the view across to Shelly Beach from the headland at Manly, a suburb of Sydney. I sat on a clifftop, in the backyard of a place our family used to holiday for many years, and tried to capture what I saw.

A woman staying in one of the other units came down to sit and chat while she watched me work. Having just started dabbling in art, I was a nervous novice not ready for an observer. Perhaps, on seeing my naive attempt, she believed she too could be a plein air painter. I hope so.

This rudimentary little painting now holds historical significance for me. Not only is it a reminder of my early adventures in art, but ownership of the holiday units changed hands and we can no longer access them. But I have this painting I created in that place. And no-one can take that away from me.

~ ~ ~
Is there something, someone or someplace in your life that you'd like to capture right now for posterity? Go do it now. Before the opportunity is gone. Todays doodles, paintings and writing will be tomorrow's memories.

Altars @ home

Jan has asked about altars in the home and some of what I shared in a recent course applies. So I'm putting my hand up as someone who like to create little spaces as a visual reminder of the sacred connection in everyday life. Some of my altars might be what you'd expect, but one of them might be something a bit left field. What do you think?

art altar

This altar in my studio includes a little cartoon book called "Play Therapy", an image of a girl wearing red polka dot gumboots, a beeswax candle, and transpersonal artwork by me:
- Soaking in the Light
- Storyteller doll
- In His Hands
- Holy Ground

It clearly shows the strong connection I feel between spirituality, play and creativity.

daily altar

My contemporary book of hours is on the dresser cabinet in my bedroom. As I stand there to put on my watch, it reminds me that each stage of the day offers a different invitation. A way of being in the world, and an opportunity to reflect on and communicate with the Creator.

hospitality altar

When designing and building our home, I created this glass art splashback to symbolise hospitality as the lifeblood of the home, everything has a season, and turning over a new leaf. It's a macro shot of a leaf, enlarged and stuck behind a glass sheet. It reminds me that standing at the stove preparing food for guests, or even for ourselves, is sacred space.

What does the word altar make you think of?
Do you have any altars @ home?