HERE'S TO A NEW YEAR ...

I didn't set out to make a New Year page, it just sort of happened because this is always a reflective look forward/look back period for me.  It felt good and right to conclude that in all of the many ups and downs the past year has brought, there was so much that was good, lovely and true.

The page began with a soft blue acrylic paint, which I then dabbed off with a baby wipe.  In reflective, nostalgic mood it was possibly inevitable that I went for a soft sepia vintage look in my collage materials.  I used to love making collages with this old fashioned, timeworn look, but don't do so very often these days.

I was just building up layers from my store of bits and pieces, and this time my shadow line was done with a soft sepia (I normally use grey).  Below you can see why I try to avoid shiny paper because of the reflection in the picture - and this wasn't even particularly glossy, but I was taking photographs in artificial light.

Decided I didn't like the centre of the frame so as you can see below I collaged over it until I was happy with the result.  Not sure why the moon turned up, unless I was also thinking about New Moon?  It made sense at the time.  The writing arose from the place my mind had travelled to - sitting in that no mans land between Christmas and New Year, giving thanks for all that had been and looking forward in hope.

At that pointed I decided it needed more blue and think I ruined the effect of the sepia, but what the heck.  The blue I added isn't actually quite as bright as it looks but is the effect of electric light again, so necessary in these often dark, short days.

I left it like this for a while but in the end the blue was really irritating me, so out with the marker pens and I toned it all down.  The result isn't perfect but its better I think?

                          

Once again, I share with you my own hopes for a new year - which are for more light, less pain and a great deal of love, which really is all any of us can ask for or need.

God Bless
Rosie

LIGHT IN THE DARKNESS ...

 

This page was one of the few where I knew from the beginning what I wanted/needed to write about - light in the darkness.  This came out of seeing a new pain specialist recently and, for the first time in many years, feeling heard and understood.  He can't do very much for me but has some creative ideas so, while I'm not dancing with joy since any changes will be small and subtle,  there is a spark of hope kindled within me that sees a possibility of something improving.

So I did something I only do occasionally, and painted the page black.  Its fun actually, because colours work differently on the dark background, but you need materials that will be opaque over the black - in this case Posca paint pens.

The bird represents me - on the ground, my wings clipped, but looking up hopefully at a spark of light.

And when the words below were finished I could almost have left it like that, because that was all I needed to say.  But of course it was a bit too bare for me, and I started to doodle ...

I wasn't really liking the page very much because the writing didn't seem to look right - but once I put the outlines around it suddenly it WORKED!

And now I DO like it - because it says what I wanted.  But also I realised that I had drawn a lot of beauty around the bird, even grounded.  That helps because even if the new specialist's ideas don't come to anything, it will remind me to look for the loveliness around me, rather than longing for the unattainable ...

WASTING TIME ON FEAR ...

 

This page marks a substantial shift in my thinking, and one that I hope I can hold onto in the coming hours and days.  The nearer we got to the major surgery, the more time I spent praying desperately and frankly allowing my fear to completely overwhelm me.

A day came when I realised that I was assuming the worst rather than hoping for the best, and that this approach didn't make any sense!  Its one thing to be realistic and acknowledge the risks of the operation, or the reality of the survival statistics, but its as if I was so determined to be sensible and pragmatic that I was failing to allow for hope, not to mention grace.

I knew when I set down the paint below that I wanted to describe and record this change in thinking, but not exactly how to do it.  I've learned that all you can do is BEGIN, so that's what I did using ordinary craft paint in three different shades.

Then I added some collage and it shouldn't be any surprise that it turned into a sort of sunrise image ... it really had been about the light dawning!  I've set these pictures side by side so that once again you can see the difference that a black outline and a grey shadow makes.

And then I started writing down everything I'd come to understand, and my decision to choose hope rather than assume the worst.  I do know that bad things might still happen, but overall the statistics for this type of cancer are good, with a high survival rate.  Removal of the bladder sounds really scary, but the more I learn about it the more I realise that its actually quite straightforward to manage and no big deal.  So, as I wrote at the head of the page, I'm not wasting any more energy on fear, I'm hoping and believing that this operation can be a total cure - words used by the surgeon. Maybe I got a bit knocked off course by the sudden death of my friend's husband on the operating table ... and feared a similar outcome.  I'm (trying) not to do that any more.

And then as per usual I got busy writing and drawing etc etc adding squiggly bits and generally filling up the page until it looked finished.  I do feel that a page should always have some human element - a face or an eye - just something to represent myself or humans generally.

The surgery is Monday, and it will be a long day (about 6-8 hours) before we know he's come through it OK, but I and many others will be holding him in prayer the whole time.  I've got my lovely daughters here at home with me, they've rallied to our side magnificently, so if I do have a few wobbles they'll be at my back.

I thank God that this is the kind of cancer on which its possible to operate - many aren't - and that we have a good chance of coming out on the other side of his recovery with a chance to start the retirement fun that's been put on hold.  Bring it on!

GOOD THINGS AHEAD ....

 

It has taken me about ten days to complete this page - generally I do one in two days at the most, but having one or two other things on my mind has meant I haven't have much time just to "play".

I rarely do anything fancy in terms of background because I know that I will be covering it up - and the picture below shows just how simple it is!  Just acrylic paint - the ordinary kind you can buy at hobby stores.  In this case I didn't even bother to go right to the edges of the page, because I wanted to do a collaged border.

So because I tend to stay in one colour range I then dragged out my drawer of orange/yellow/ gold/brown elements.  Its a very simple technique to create a border in this way and to be honest right now I can't really manage anything more complicated.  I don't worry about my collage pieces being the same width, because  a varied edge gives it more interest.

You may notice below that I've added a shadow and a black line around the inner edge - I hope you agree that this makes a substantial difference to how the page looks?  I found this Modigliani lady among my images, and thought she looked kind of reflective, or wistful even, as if she might be looking back - and that's why the writing tells her/me not to!

The rest of the page was added here and there, as I had a few minutes to spare, and is of course (as always) a message to myself.  We're in a new place and have left all but a few special friends behind, so life can feel a bit lonely and isolated at times.  When I get to feeling that way I remind myself not to look back, but to look ahead to a time when we've made new friends and become better established in the area - we HAVE only been here one month!

Still there's no doubt that life feels a bit quiet and our social life is distinctly limited for now.  Maybe that's why I feel disappointed that while almost a thousand people have been by in the past week, only ONE person opted to leave a comment.  Now I am NOT a comments junkie, and that's not why I keep this blog up faithfully, but right now it would be nice to know that you're out there and that I'm not just talking to myself - so say hi if you have time and tell me whether the blog helps you.  It would be so nice to know its making a difference to someone.