The Christmas season...

 is always puzzle season, and these little pieces make me think of people every time.

Some of them are so beautifully patterned they appear lit from within,

while others are so bright they could be heading into outer space.

Some are deliciously bubbly, 

while others are filled with endless questions.

The quiet ones stand back,

and the sweet ones beckon.

The ones that are outwardly dark often hold lovely promise,

and some are aligned with the stars.

Whatever their appearance, they are endlessly fascinating

even when we're practicing social distancing.

My biggest wish for 2021 is that we can all come together to celebrate once again.

In the meantime, John and I will lift a glass to you and yours, with thanks for your friendship in this most puzzling year.

It's that time of the year...

... again.  Time for Christmas wishes, and for thinking ahead to 2021.

I hope that this Christmas, as unusual as it is, will have you uniquely conscious of those you love and cherish, whether you're in quarantine, isolation, under restrictions (as we are in western Canada), or actually able to celebrate with your family.

And if you're thinking of what you'd like to concentrate on in 2021, I'd love to hear about it.  My word for the year is 'Wonder', and I love the definition(s):

verb 

    - to think or speculate curiously

·              - to be filled with admiration, amazement, or awe; marvel

·            - to doubt

noun

·               - something strange and surprising; a cause of surprise, astonishment, or admiration

·              -  the emotion excited by what is strange and surprising; a feeling of surprised or puzzled interest, sometimes tinged with admiration

·               - miraculous deed or event; remarkable phenomenon.

Every time I choose a word for the upcoming year, I'm filled with curiosity about how it will show up in my life.  This time I fully expect a sense of wonder in every meaning of the word.  I've made some visuals for my studio wall, of course, and for a change, many are photographs that I've found on the web.

No reference for this photographer; please message me for credit if image is yours!

Image by Fulton Hobbs

Helix Nebula image

Image from Muses from a Mystic

Do please let me know about your word for 2021; I'd love to hear it!  And as you prepare for your Christmas celebration, know that I'm thinking about you and appreciating you so very much.  Merry Christmas!

I've been wondering about The Space Between recently...

 ...whether it's the space between people (a safe 6 feet right now in pandemic times), the space between our physical, mental, emotional and spiritual bodies, the space between quarks which comprise protons, neutrons and electrons which combine to make atoms, and so on.

In fact, we really don't know what the space between actually is, which means, of course, that I had to create something to represent it.  Remember a while ago I told you I was saving bits of paper from the cutting of snowflakes?  Well, there's a use for everything, right?

The Space Between, a journal spread

I started by gessoing a large journal spread (11" x 16.5" when open) with black gesso, and then tore into it with gel pens.  I've done several gel-on-black pieces, but none this size before, and it took a long, long while.

The pages are densely covered with an array of dots, geometric forms, symbols and more.

Some areas have pencil additions that are near-invisible.

There is such a wide range of wonkiness,

winding paths,

and wackiness that it really makes me smile.

And I have to wonder if that is what is really going on in our lives...the path is sometimes dense, occasionally easy to follow, once in a while impossible to understand and so much more besides.  Are we meant to understand our lives at all, or is it enough to navigate through it to the best of our abilities, caring for the space between ourselves and others (those who are all one with us).  

What is your perception of your life?  Is there a space between at all?  Of what is it comprised?  

When it's cool in the studio...

 ...one is always tempted to add some heat, and that's what happened with this piece.  

Flotsam & Jetsam© Win Dinn 12" x 6"
on cradled wood panel

Intended for the en suite bathroom and painted in three or four shades of blue, this piece had me yawning in boredom until I set it down next to a pile of chopped up painted dryer sheets, leftovers from the snowflake-cutting frenzy earlier in the month.  What synchronicity!

It was only a work of a few moments to slather on some medium and secure some of them to the wood panel next to the sea glass and shells already in place.

I'm loving the joyous results,

and can see this kind of  'happy accident' happening again.

The flashy dryer sheet bits are a perfect foil for the heavily textured blues.

I'd love to hear about your fortuitous happenings - got any to share?

It seems to me that snowflakes...

...are rather like human beings (or vice versa).  Each one is uniquely beautiful, rich in its own way, and delightful to behold.

Whether strongly geometric,

feathery light,

or cut from a different cloth altogether,

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there is always grace to be found.

The style may be bold and large,

contain a stripe of a different colour,

or even be torn in places, 

but there is always some artistry to be found in the individuality.

May you find yourself noticing the beauty in others as you move towards a completely newfound holiday season, 

and may you feel grateful, as I do, for the character and complexion of those you meet on your journey.  Thank you for sharing yours with me - there are no words to express what a gift you are in my life. 

'Ironing snowflakes' . . .

, , , is not a phrase that normally comes to mind in winter, but here we go.  It's winter, and I'm ironing snowflakes.

It started with my realization that it was fast nearing the end of November, and I'd not yet designed a Christmas card, never mind made any of the two dozen or so that are required.

This meant that I was under the gun for an idea, and even more so for the execution.  Of course, my go-to for any paper project is gel prints, given the stack of them I always have on hand.  Since childhood, one of my favourite winter pastimes has been to cut snowflakes, so combining the two thoughts was a no-brainer.

Enter my scissors, three or four sizes of gel-print squares, and the diagnosis of a rotator cuff injury which obligated me to do nothing in the way of housework for the foreseeable future, and there I was with a leaning-like-Pisa pile of cut snowflakes.

Folded and bent to the max, they needed a light touch with the iron before stage two could commence.

Not only the snowflakes are beautiful, though - the remainder of the squares from which they're cut are very interesting.  I've always been a fan of  'the space between', so I've carefully saved the outsides and ironed them as well.  And I've saved the teeny-tiny bits of pretty paper cutouts too, because - artist, -right?

And then it occurred to me that my painted dryer sheets might be a possibility instead of paper, so there's a pile of them started too.

I'm truly glad that no other options have hit my brain (yet), or I'd be cutting snowflakes from concrete and then ironing that!  We artists are very strange people, are we not?

Anyway, I'm sure I'll get to the point of actually making these cards, if I can just. stop. cutting. these. snowflakes.  

❄❄❄

Please, somebody send help!

I'm doing a happy dance...

...because after a year and a half of  computer issues with a new computer, I've finally got it fixed (she says with bated breath).  Thank you Swift!  I can actually work on something while the backup is being done, photo editing is back to normal, and the keyboard can keep up with my fingers AND my brain!  Whoopee - it's been a great week altogether.

I've been playing in the studio, of course, while the computer was playing at Swift.  This is the second of the 'In Your Absence' series, a piece that commemorates my mother.  She was so good with embroidery, quilting, and all things hand-crafted, and this piece of stitchery as I practiced my own handiwork seemed to call her name.  It will be affixed to a wood panel; whether more will be added has yet to be determined.

The piece for my sister is being auditioned with some colourful holes, given that she was a vibrantly colourful person.

I'm working still, again, endlessly it seems, in the black and white journal as well.  And there are still some 20+ pages to go!  

And I've finally gotten the courage to chop two pieces of fabric into four.  I'm going to cover some small canvasses and proceed from there.  

Because we're at the very tail end of autumn, and (dare I say it?) the beginning of winter, I've taken some sayonara photos on our daily walks.

This time of year is so beautiful, and one almost holds the breath in the hope that winter is short, and spring will soon return.

It's time to tuck into a warm spot at home, grab a glass, and a few good books when studio time is over.

May your tuck-into-winter time be fruitful, safe, and happy.  Do catch me up on your doings in the comments, will you?