 The change over from autumn to winter makes it impossible to not to notice the growing darkness. The landscape has shifted from the riotous colors of autumn to dull gold, brown and gray. Here, in central New York, November is one of the darkest months of the year. In addition to the shortening amount of daylight, we have more cloudy days than sunny days, due to moisture from the warm waters of Lake Ontario just north of us. An occasional snow fall temporarily lightens things up, but there is no mistaking that darkness has arrived. The good news is that in just under a month, the cycle will turn again toward the light. However, the light will begin as a tiny spark in a darkened landscape.
I found myself shifting my own work in response the changing environment. Snowflakes are now filling my workspace. Snowflakes are mandalas in miniature, and the possibilities in design is endless. Recently I bought some sparkly tencel thead (thread made from the cellulose of the gum tree) that was on sale. My inner crow draws me to all things sparkling and shiny, and I couldn't pass up the opportunity to find a way to play with the thread. I started using the tencel thread with the yarn to make snowflakes and I am delighted with the result. Unfortunately, it is not easy to photograph, but all of the snowflakes dance with a subtle sparkle. It is a gentle reminder that even as the land and sky are turning toward darkness, the light remains, even if it is just a little sparkle for the moment.
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 And we become brighter in our dying
And we turn golden as we fall I enjoy finding my color palette for projects from walking outside in nature. I am fortunate to live across from a heavily treed park and at this time of year the possible colors for a project is dizzying! Today I took the dogs for a walk after having listened to the album Courting Autumnby Pamela Wyn Shannon. The album is one of the best tributes to the autumn season I have ever heard. Her songs rolled around in the chambers of my mind as I walked. The song titled "Tis Rambletide in Ambleside" which details the colors found in the autumn landscape seemed to be on a mental repeat. As I entered the park, my eyes fell upon the feast of colors at my feet and soon I was bending over picking up leaves, nuts, pine cones and grasses. At the end of my walk I looked at what I gathered and realized I had found the color palette for my next project. I returned to my studio and matched yarns to the found objects and began crocheting a mandala pattern that had caught my eye and called to me for the last couple of days. I am changing the colors from the original design, which originally was meant to depict spring. When I first found the pattern, I saw autumn and so I am making some creative changes. I am calling this project the Harvest Wheat Mandala. I am so pleased to begin working on this mandala as a meditation on the autumn season. Tis rambletide in Ambleside by Pamela Wyn Shannon Tis rambletide in Ambleside Wind-twisted trees, the thorn of you The season's leaf is gold and red On lilting paths they fall to bed And we become brighter in our dying And we turn golden as we fall Spindle berries split and show Sunset-colored seeds that glow The leaf fires scent the air with musk Shadowed spindle tree at dusk And we become brighter in our dying And we turn golden as we fall Tis rambletide, so off I go Through Ambleside, the path unknown October fields of umber hue Over rain-soaked rocks I quickly move Can I walk through soft meadows and briars alike? Can I move through with the thorn of you inside? The knobbed and knotted arms I climb To view the falling from up high In their departure, I arrive With every leaf, a floating sigh And we become brighter in our dying And we turn golden as we fall Tis rambletide in Ambleside Wind- twisted trees, the thorn of you The season's leaf is gold and red On lilting paths they fall to bed... 
WITCHES In the past, they burned us Because they thought we were witches. Because we knew what to do with herbs outside of the kitchen. Because we knew how to dance, and seduce, and pray. Because we moved with the cycles of the moon. ~ Fleassy Malay Recently I have been exploring crocheting doilies. I am seeing a great potential for contemplative crafting in the ever widening rounds, that are essentially mandalas. Mandalas are spiritual, or ritual symbols that emerged from ancient Indian religious traditions. The word mandala is Sanskrit for "circle". Now we apply the word to any circular, and sometimes square, geometric pattern. Creating a mandala originally was symbolic of the wholeness of life and the cosmos, and representative of the interconnectedness of all things. In creating a mandala, everything depends on everything else for its structure. In Buddhism, mandalas are used to help with meditation through deep contemplation of the image. These mandalas are also created through meditative practices, with each color and shape, even the process of creating it, holding symbolic meaning. Some may be familiar with the Tibetan Buddhist sand mandalas. Mandalas spread to Christian and Islamic faiths, in which they represented the individual's initial separation from and journey to the divine. Today outside of the traditional spiritual guidelines, mandalas primarily serve a psychological and aesthetic function. Carl Jung introduced using creating mandalas as a tool to explore the unconscious mind. He believed that creating mandalas were effective in organizing and integrating our inner and outer lives. The many layers of the mandala, representing the deeper layers of the unconscious, allowing the individual to experience oneness with the universe. Doilies are a fairly new craft, appearing sometime in the late 1700s or early 1800s as a Victorian craft and served as a form of etiquette. They covered areas of furniture, like the head rest and the arms (called Antimacassars or Chair Sets), under cups and trays, to protect the furniture and beautify the home. The name doily comes from the surname "d'Ouilly" of a prominent London firm of linen manufacturers of fringed napkins. Over the years doilies have fallen in and out of favor. Recently, they are on the comeback. Some appear in their traditional use in protecting wood surfaces or table tops, using white or natural color thread, while others move toward mandala-like creation, using color and texture in its creation. I am interested in the latter approach. Taking a traditional craft form and exploring its use as a contemplative tool, both in its creation and in its use. My first doilies have been fun and playful in design, as I learn the method and techniques in creating them. However, as I dive deeper into the craft form, I expect I will explore traditional, even antique, patterns, and eventually begin creating my own designs. Posted here is what I call the Dancing Witches doily. It is a design by Valerie Fuller. I changed some of the colors, but the design is hers. I am looking forward to exploring this craft form as a contemplative tool and see what I discover in the process!  Autumn has always been a favorite time of year of mine, for a myriad of reasons: comfortable temperatures; the shift in sunlight to gold and amber tones; the dramatic transformation of the landscape from green to a range of colors--both bold and muted, to name a few. After summer's hot and humid, languid days, Autumn invigorates and inspires my creativity. For the ancient Celts, Autumn, specifically the midpoint between the Autumn Equinox and Winter Solstice, it is the end of the previous season cycle and the beginning of the new one. It was a time to reflect on and celebrate all that the previous year's cycle provided. Being a descendant of ancient Celtic lineage, I have embraced this connection to the seasons' cycles, in fact, it seems to have been innate in me, as I have enjoyed Autumn for as long as I can remember. It makes sense to me that emerging from darkness and entering darkness are the two thresholds all living things share. Autumn's yearly visit stirs me, activates me, and reminds me that life is fleeting. Autumn is not the time for regrets or pining for days now past, rather it is a time for celebrating days lived, and for living fully in the time we still have. For me, creativity is one of the highest expression of life and living fully, that I can embody. Today I am working on a design I call the Autumn Owl poncho, every stitch, every row I create, is a reflection, a meditation, a contemplation of living fully. It is my hope that my completed poncho communicates this in a similar way that Autumn inspires me.
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About My WorkMy primary medium is hand embroidery, but I do occasionally work with yarn, pencil, pen, and paint. I also offer commissioned hand-embroidered pet portraits. Archives
July 2023
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