Sarah*n*dipitous

I Made This

There is an amazing power in the words, "I made this." I have never met a child who does not glow whilst holding up a creation and proudly saying, "Look what I Made." I have often wondered why this is, why making things changes people in a profound way. Perhaps it is because we are wired to want to create, to build, to compose, to leave a distinct mark, and to make a difference in some meaningful way. It's no wonder too, that  some of the unhappiest and most restless people seem to be those trapped in situations where they feel they are not doing, being, moving, producing, making something (real or perceived, physically or metaphorically speaking). People tend to feel a stagnant uneasiness in their dependence when they crave that independence empowered by their own self-sufficiency. I have witnessed some of the most troubled youth literally transform overnight when given a purpose and an opportunity to make for themselves, it's a power and deep sense of achievement that can be obtained in no other way.

So, where am I going with this? Today I was asked what drives the DIY (Do It Yourself) movement, what it is to be "Indie" and why now? I had to laugh. The only way I could explain this concept to this person was to hand them a soldering iron and invite them to make something, something that would wreck their manicure and get their clothes dirty and even perhaps, make them smell a bit more, well, shall we say au natural. You see, I, like we all, are the product of "Do It Yourselfers" (makers, tinkerers, backyard/garage weekend warriors with an insatiable curiosity and some hand me down tools), we are derived from a lineage of "Indie" folk... afterall, civilizations are made, technological advances are created and, who exactly were the people that built this Nation and got us to the moon and back? Do It Yourself isn't a movement, it is human nature. "Indie" isn't a label, a genre, or even a trend, inasmuch as it is the desire in each person to not be like everyone else. Why now? I'd like to think in my heart of hearts that there is an awakening of sorts as of late, an undercurrent brewing and bubbling beneath the surface of things because people are realizing that if something breaks, something they are dependent upon, there will be no one around who remembers how to fix it and that right now is the time they need to pick up their own tools and learn for themselves. Perhaps, this observed "movement" is actually our very DNA screaming out from the past, begging for us to remember what is was like as a child to glow, albeit with a few more years tacked on, when we said, "Look what I worked on. See how this works, isn't it cool? See what I made all by myself." 

 

 

 

Kindness Matters

KINDNESS, n. {from kind, the adjective}

1. Good will; benevolence; that temper or disposition which delights in contributing to the happiness of others, which is exercised cheerfully, in gratifying their wishes, supplying their wants or alleviating their distresses; benignity of nature. Kindness ever accompanies love.

Noah Webster 1828

Let's think on Kindness for a moment.

Kindness is a noun with a verb hidden in it's core that the world simply needs to see, feel, touch, hear and taste more of. Perhaps the power within many nouns, people included, is that they exist to complete actions. Nouns are happiest, more fulfilled, and made whole by an act that transcends themselves and positively affects another, another noun who may not be able to repay the event but merely, use that momentum to send it forward.

Kindness is deliberate. It is easy to believe so many things in this world just "happen" as if by cosmic happenchance yet, to be kind to another or show kindness in a situation, is something we not only have to think about, marinate on and let soak in but, summon the inner momentum, fortitude, and courage to act on it. It is a choice.

Kindness is also contagious. It is a golden pocket watch with intricate craftsmanship etched with our names that we want to share with others, want to tell them the story about the time they were given something so precious, something deliberate and with their name right there etched permanently upon it. We want to share the fact that we mattered to another, that we were the recipient of something completely intended, that we are special and have a moment dedicated to just us by another. And the beauty is, within each person is that kindness seed, we are all carriers if you will, of that kindness contagion and have a story to spread.

Today is the annual "Kindness Party" on Twitter (4-6pm EST). I have been invited to help moderate by Phyllis Mufson (@phyllismufson) Read about it and the other participants HERE 

This is why it matter folks, and by it, I mean Kindness and by matters, I mean everyday, not just a designated time slot on a social media platform. Humanity loses something when we are unable to share a bit of who we are with another, we lose the momentum, that sacred spark, that beautiful orange glow that all embers have inside of them. Humanity has grown cold in a way, we are skeptical of what we hear, we distrust the motives behind what we read, we question the sales pitch knowing perhaps that we'd buy what they were saying if, we ourselves were not so bankrupt and threadbare. We look at the term "Free" and pray the hook doesn't hurt when we reach out to grab it. We want the hug but wonder if we'll be pick-pocketed in the process. Jaded is perhaps the most effective vaccination against spreading kindness and as a herd, it would seem that our immunizations are up to date.

The truth is, we need kindness more now. We need firsthand Kindness, not kindness by proxy. In an overly "connected" world, we have allowed ourselves to "disconnect" to that which is to be human, forgotten the feeling of what it is to reach out and hold another's hand simply because we can. Kindness enables. It enables us, humanity, to share a story, a story that someone else will get to tell about us. 

Be Deliberate. Be Engaged. Be Kind.

To my Twitter family, thank you. Kindness knows no time zones, no artificially set boundaries, no beginning or end... it is a constant stream that flows at a rate of about 140 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Impossibilities

The world is full of walking, talking, breathing contradictions; things that are, by human understanding, impossible. I think about people who faced daunting tasks, seemingly impossible challenges yet overcame them only to redefine our human understanding of this or that. Medicine, science, mathematics, all those logical based disciplines that depend on empirical data sets and reproducible experimentations to prove or disprove, all hinge on the belief that things have to have an explanation of sorts. One cannot help but think that Nature takes great joy and daresay, sadistic pleasure, in presenting impossibilities each and every day just to keep humanity on it's toes. 

Today I watched a dragonfly hover in midair, fly backwards, and connect with another as a course of perpetuating the species I suppose, in perfect unison. One dragonfly in flight is miraculous, two in a coordinated perfection is nothing short of Divine. Master Leonardo DaVinci studied the dragonfly hundreds of years ago and we, as humanity, are no closer to being able to define the impossibility of it. Without impossibilities, innovation and inspiration would cease to exist. Perhaps Lewis Carroll had it correct when he penned Wonderland, that one really must think on at least 6 impossible things a day.

 

Makers

One of my favorite events to attend is Maker Faire. Truth be told, it does not really matter in which city or what time of the year it is held, it is a concept not a square on the calendar in my world.

Maker Faire is an event that is difficult to explain or define because it is something different to each person. For some it is a geek convention, others, a hacker reunion, it is a Lego village while others see it as a concert with Tesla Coil sparks of pure energy. Maker Faire is a steampunk revolution, a Bizarre Bazaar, a lecture on innovation, a display of alternative energy possibilities or even a choreographed Mentos and Coke Zero wonder of science. It is experienced through make n takes, various foods on a stick, a lifesize mousetrap game or in a knitting circle sipping tea and talking about the weather. As varied as the ideas of what Maker Faire is, the commonality that binds each and every person that walks the grounds and interacts within the event is that we are all Makers. We are the doers of things and thinkers of thoughts, the curious, the child like wonder trapped in an aging birthday suit. We are the "what-if" askers and the grease smudged foreheads, we are the growers of gardens and the wearers of the fantastic and outlandish. We are the product of our own making wrapped up in a Providential design that embodies a creativity only the original Maker could create. It is a celebration of what could be possible when we choose to marinate on the impossibilities of the here and now.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Filters

Perspective is one of those things that constantly amazes me and convinces me more and more that the Creator of the Universe designed us to be thinking and engaged people. The mere fact that we can all live under the same sky and partake in the same sunset yet, have completely different versions of what it is we are actually processing, internalizing and seeing is almost too much to wrap one's head around. The wonderous variation in human thought means that one can never be bored, that there is always something to ponder and discuss even when there seemingly isn't anything common between two strangers.

Today, my daughter came running inside to tell me that the sky was her favorite shade of pink. Holding my phone to the screen from the upstairs window, all I could do was stand in awe of the beautiful blue touched off by emerging green. My filter, the screen itself, skewed my perspective and changed what I saw in comparison to what my daughter was taking in from the yard. What transpired was an incredible dialog that went past the sunset and continued under the blanket of stars. 

 

Universal Language

Music has always been dear to my heart. It fascinates me that in life there are a few things that all humans can partake in despite language and cultural barriers... art and music are Universal in nature and are things that when all else fails, serve as a means to communicate when we have not the words. 

I would like to believe that our society and culture would have the where with all to preserve the arts considering that the world is daily getting smaller through technology and having the ability to speak a Universal dialect could indeed be very useful when verbal communication hits the proverbial brick wall.

 
 

Birdhouses

I am fascinated by birdcages and have been since I can remember. I have collected many over the years. For those who have ever noticed them here and there in my house or studio, they are always left with the door open. 

To Kill A Mockingbird is a story that holds deep personal meaning to me for many reasons. The thought of killing a songbird as being a sin is akin to willfully trapping another human and clipping their wings. Every time a word is spoken in anger that tells a child they are "too stupid, too dumb, too incapable..." their ability to fly becomes handicapped. What folks do not think of is how we ourselves do the very same things to ourselves as adults. We believe the naysayers, the most vocal being the peanut gallery in our own heads that conjure up "what-if's", and "can't do's" constantly. We come to a point where we trap ourselves in our own gilded cages, architect-ed from our own blueprints and fashioned by our own hands, and for good measure, the key to the front door we pounded and crafted, we force ourselves to choke on as we swallow it just to make sure we can never leave. 

What does your birdhouse look like? When was the last time you escaped it's bars and truly flew?

 

Tick Tock

I am not friends with the clock, we shake hands as a matter of civility, and many times I refer to that act as the logistics customary before a dual. It's not because I am closer to middle age that makes me uncomfortable like that expanding waistline and age spots lovingly referred to as "beauty marks" inasmuch, as it is in a healthy dose of reality. The bold fact is that, a clock only moves forward, the moment a second is acknowledged it has already passed and can no longer be chased like a firefly on a careless Summer's evening. My moments, as yours, are carefully accounted for, the purpose in which we were made cast and hidden in the crazy amazing uniqueness and gifts we have been given that indeed, set us each apart from every other person on the planet. We are creatures designed to leave a mark. A friend once said, you cannot be someone's friend and dependent at the same time, that there is a defined conflict of interest that makes the relationship unable to be truly unbiased and pure. I cannot depend on the clock and be friends with it. The tick tock is the very thing that spurs me on and keeps me aware that the seconds slip by oftentimes unannounced. A friendly complacency would mean the dual is lost and my time is up.

 
 

Valentine

Many suggest and believe that Valentine's is a "Hallmark" holiday set aside to make those in distant places and alone feel even more isolated and alone. I'd like to believe it's like a Wonderland "Un-Birthday" when we choose to celebrate every day that isn't designated and circled in red as an opportunity to show those around us that they matter and that we care. It need not be the showy production, the flowers, chocolates, jewelry and tangible things, it can be a smile, a hand held in a dark time, or the window on the car scraped and the inside heated when you're running late. Let every day be Valentine's Day, a day where love is found in the sanctuary of another.

This is a Beehive or Spider Web Victorian Card. Thank You Tattered Angels, Clearsnap, Marcella, 3M, Fiskars, and Bic :)

 

Hold the Line

Veterans Day is a very special day in our household. My Grandfathers both served their Country, my Uncles and Aunt served, and my Step-Sister and dear Friends all have taken up the call and chose to Hold The Line to ensure our Safety and Freedom. Military Service is a tough calling not only for the Soldier but also, their families. That sense of Honor, Duty and Loyalty can be a difficult thing to swallow for family members who may or may not have chosen to be the Support System and holding the other side of that line at home.

It was a huge honor to be asked to create a series of papers to be used exclusively with a project Danielle and Rayme (The Diva Craft Lounge) had volunteered to do with Military Families before one or both parents leave for the Theater of War. The Series was created with the express intent and wish that they will never be bought or sold, only downloaded for use freely in honor of those who give FREELY their service for our Country.

Here is the Story of Hold the Line and why on this Veteran's Day, I encourage those reading this to create something for someone who Held the Line and gave so sacrificially for the Freedoms we enjoy today.

These 5 designs started as pieces of thin Maple Veneers. I chose Maple because they serve, protect and give so selflessly each year in the harshest of climates and when they themselves are the most vulnerable and unprotected. I live in Michigan where in early Spring when the ground is still frozen and the world is still asleep under Winter's icy kiss, spigots are tapped into the bark of the Sugar Maple trees where syrup flows like blood from it's core and is collected into a bucket.  That syrup is enjoyed in the comforts of a warm home over freshly made pancakes with pats of butter oozing, freshly squeezed juice and brewed coffee waiting next to the plate. The table linens are clean and pressed, the silverware polished and in order, and even the plates are fragile glass and clink with taps from an empty fork seeking to be laden again. It is safe.

The Maple stands guard throughout the year, providing shade, shelter and rest for all those who seek comfort under it's strong limbs and never once does it complain. It weathers storms and driving rain, gales of winds and drought without yielding where it's roots are secure and dug deep. They Hold the Line.

On these Veneers, are the tiny cracks of faithful service etched in their protective polish, signs that they wear outwardly, the patina of a life well spent and invested in something higher than themselves. That rich surface and texture only improves with age as the slight lines become creases and scars that tell the story to the next generation, the group of Men and Women who hear the calling, the lineage of proud Patriots spanning from family line to family line across oceans and terrain... They Hold the Line.

The drawings are simple, pen to paper, nothing complex, no technology involved (sans the scanning in), simply a mark on the surface signifying a thought, an idea, and a purpose. Words salvaged from an old manual; a set of instructions left from the 1800's on a printing press preserved for posterity in ink, cut with scissors and attached with glue. It seemed only fitting to use exactly what was on hand and leave the page to be completed with only the story that could be told from someone who Held that Line. Our Veterans are the thread that bind and connect the very fabric of our Constitution and Flag to the people who are guided and live under them today. They are the Line and here, as Citizens we are tasked to preserve, document and Hold that Line.

Thank you Veterans. May God keep you and protect you. May those serving in Harm's way Holding the Line now, come home when their job is completed safely. And a special thank you to my Maple, you are an inspiration.

This is a lovely poem written by Thena Smith using the FREE downloadable Paper at The Diva Craft Lounge.

Troll

When I was young, growing up here in Michigan, those that lived in the Upper Peninsula were called Youppers (You Pers) and those below the Mackinaw Bridge, we were Trolls. Like most seeped in Michigan lore and quirky "using your hand as a map to explain where you are from" colloquialisms, stories of Trolls and massive Lumber Jacks with a Blue Ox for a pet were things that are in your genetic code. The idea of Trolls though is something you need not be from Michigan to know anything about. Trolls are suckers for shiny objects and tend to attach themselves to things with shiny objects until said shiny object can be stolen and pilfered away or are no longer valuable. In the art world, as with most other professions in the corporate setting, there are many who gravitate towards the shiny new (you fill in the blank here) seeking hidden treasure and undue enrichment. Oftentimes, companies will seek out new talent and suck them dry of their ideas before they are aware and while they are still green and taken in with their own shiny objects (the promise of a bigger office, a brighter future, a paid off mortgage) to care. It has long been a belief of mine that we should teach mythology, Aesop, and a number of other cautionary tales to kids coming into the Creative Community and profession. There is a sense that because it is art, because it is a sharing type community that by proxy all people are working towards the common good when in fact, that simply may not be the case. Once upon a time there used to be the premise that if you make money, I make money... people had control over the destinies of sorts and income potential was only limited by their own vision. The Trolls would like to let folks believe that they have just as much "respect" for said such shiny object but, in reality, they covet it and will do what ever it takes to deprive it's own of said jewel.

If the creative community understood the value of what they brought to the table, I believe wholeheartedly they would guard it a bit better. Rather than discounting their work and talent they would be trained to want to partner with the companies they work with to mutually edify and enrich each other. Respect comes first from understanding the value of one's talents. As a creative community, we must come to agreement that there are collective standards and rates lest we give away our shiny jewels on a fool's gold quest.

Ceilings

Why would anyone care to spend so much time decorating a ceiling if life is lived in front of you? It is because we must look up to dream. It captures our imaginations to look up and see the ceiling painted in the impossible. Painted Ceilings almost gives credence to the thought that dreams and the impossible can come true if only the scaffolding to get there is strong and sturdy enough to support the tools and talent needed to excute that great feat. To some extent it is true. The dream, the artistry, does occur only after the vision is had and the logistics are figured out to make it a reality. I think all to often we are told to dream big and wait for the fairytale rather than to build the scaffolding upon waking to make it happen- it sounds less like a fairytale and more like work. What is interesting is how folks, once it is completed, stare upon the seemingly impossible works of others and are inspired themselves yet, how few actually are inspired/motivated enough to go ahead and create their own magnificent ceiling capturing the impossible they themselves dreamed up.

Griffin

I always wondered how it was that mythical beasts came to pass and how so many people groups littered around the world seemed to have their version of a similar creature. Perhaps it is because we are all human and can indeed have similar thoughts?

The other day the big stone monster in the room was the discussion about collage and the use of copyrighted materials. This is always a heated debate and many feelings inevitably are hurt in the process. In our business model we have made a decision on the executive level not to use stock photos or any other "for purchase" work that isn't our own. We, in essence, shoot our own B roll whenever we are out and about and harvest images to use on projects specifically for our clients. The problem has arisen in many firms the question of where ownership lies when photos are used from the public domain especially when things like logo and letterhead is involved. As a creative, be it in art, music, or writing, you need to ask yourself the hard questions and do what is right for you and what falls in line with your core values and mission statement. It is always a very difficult thing, after the fact, to find out that something you made using what seemed to be an innocent rendition, is indeed depriving an artist, a fellow creative, their ability to earn a livelihood following their passion and using their talents. As a manufacturer or someone purchasing art, music, written copy, you need to ask where the source was and where the rights to the said work lay. The worst thing you can do is create an entire marketing plan, class, body of work or campaign around something that isn't yours. 

Stone Army

The Great Chinese Emperor had an army constructed in preparation for his life beyond his existence here on Earth. The artistry and time it took to create these masterpieces is staggering. Seeing them in real life, quietly standing in line and at attention awaiting their orders is almost eerie yet completely awe inspiring at the same time.

What I found breathtaking is the fact that those who want to be remembered in History resort to the arts and craftsmen to preserve that legacy. Every great monument, the works in cathedrals, crowns and jewelry, clothing, and even the bound and masterfully illuminated books from times gone by were all made. The way people are remembered is through the things people DID to leave a lasting mark, a constructed and created impression that the sand in the hourglass could not erode away from the minds of men simply because they were *that* grand and unforgettable. What boggles me more and more is how the arts in general are the first thing cut when funding and budgeting becomes and issue. My question is who will be the Makers, the Craftspeople, that are equipped and enabled to create History if we as a society no longer deem their education and apprenticeship worthy of a line in the final budget sheet?

Playful

The spirit of play is something we all need in order to continually feed the create muse and keep it healthy. Just as good food and exercise are good for the body and staying in shape, our Muse needs to be exposed to laughter and just old fashioned play and experimentation in order to grow. Many working artists lose track of time designated to just "new" work, retreats or even classes due to the busyness of trying to run a business and make a living from their creations. It comes to a point where many artists are spending more of their time staring at paperwork than blank canvases full of possiblitites waiting to be given a new life and exiestence.

In my studio, play is important, it is part of my job. My role as an innovator encompasses using existing products and materials in new unexpected ways for my clients; this by proxy means, I must get my hands dirty and machines are sacrificed for the greater craftiness good. The point is, I learn more from these playdates than I do with the set appointments I have more times than naught simply because there is no agenda, it is come what may. I encourage those in the creative community, be it in art, music, writing, theater, or dance to make sure to schedule play time and make it a part of the routine...