Monday, June 29, 2009

A word about the title


I grew up on a wheat farm in Oklahoma. Farming is a work intensive business so Mom and Dad were always busy and my siblings and I learned to help out and to entertain ourselves. We used what was available to make games and entertainment. Mud pies, songs about what we saw, games out of old buttons and string and scraps of wood and nails. I'm sure this might shock the i-pod/Wii generation but we had fun. And the fun was limited only by our imaginations.

As time went on I learned to make other things. Coffee for my dad on a cold winter day, gravy as soon as I could reach the stove by standing on a stool, canned produce from the garden and dinners for harvest or haying crews. I learned how to make repairs. Dad told me one day that I could learn to change a tire or walk 15 miles home. Changing the tire seemed like the best option and that was just the start. All in all, our parents taught us how to be self sufficient, and it has stood the test of time.


I also learned the joy of making something beautiful out of found objects like stones or leaves or pencils and crayons. My obsession with making things grew. I learned sewing and baking and gardening. This led to weaving, cake decoration, watercolor painting, printmaking and the list goes on.

I know your thinking she is "a jack of all trades and master of none". Yet, aren't we all who we are because of the experiences we have had. I think we are all a tapestry made up of the richness of our experiences. I also firmly believe that we are individual parts that make up a greater and richer tapestry. Without the diversity of threads or colors of pigment would the great art of this world be as colorful or expressive? In God's plan, would the body be sound if we were all one part and not many parts making up the whole.

I came to be uniquely what I am by the twisted and varied path followed while making things. Currently, you will find me working as a cook at a Carmelite retreat center making friends, rosaries, prayer and something to nourish those who pass my way.