Reflecting on Ways Our Practices Still Serve

Creative practice in community can open up spaces to be together with uncertainty and vulnerability and to connect through allowing ourselves to be seen and heard.

This newsletter has been an essential way I feel a connection with a larger creative community.

Thank you

Practices Still Serve

This week I received my first dose of the vaccine; I was moved by the patient, calm and hospitable care of the administrators at the CVS I visited. I found myself close to tears with a sense of hope and gratitude. 

As we return to Spring, I find myself reflecting on this time a year ago. Under direction to stay at home, I got to know the natural world around my home in a much deeper way. As someone who goes out for art supplies when others are purchasing groceries for a snow day, I enjoyed the extra time and spaciousness for creative practice. Even as we missed the loss of events and routine, my family found new ways to create together and I enjoyed sharing ideas for creative practice with this newsletter community.

Now, as we begin a transition toward something new, I feel the uncertainty of the moment more acutely. Different people have different levels of comfort with re-gathering. Even as more things re-open, many events are still in a wait and see holding space. There is more room for individual choice in how we cope with the on-going pandemic. In some ways, I found myself missing the clarity and simplicity of the stay at home order last year.

I was planting herb seeds the other day and had a realization: practices still serve.

Creating, tending to plants, being in nature, these are practices I have strengthened over the last year. They served to help fill the expanded time at home and they also serve as I navigate increased uncertainty now.

There is a close connection between creativity and uncertainty. I always feel most creative when something in my  practice surprises me, when my work takes a turn I didn't expect or something goes "wrong" in a way that ends up being a happy accident. 

Additionally, I think of how some practices require a longer and more patient process. Showing up daily  leads to creation in organic ways as things develop over time. I used to visit a tree behind my house seasonally, then monthly or weekly; now I go everyday. The images above and below are a sampling of images from my deepening practice of visits with this tree.

What practices are nurturing you this spring? 
 

Mother Trees

My Mother Trees series celebrates voices that inspire me as I find awe, wonder and connection in creativity and nature. This series debuted in my front yard last year on Earth Day as an installation of prayer flags. 
I now also have cards and laser cut prints available in my Etsy Shop.

Visit my Etsy Shop...

Fine Lines: Walking the Labyrinth of Grief and Loss

I have the honor of being a small part of a beautiful book written by my friend Kathy Swaar; I created the labyrinth block print on the cover. Whether you are mourning a specific person, accompanying someone who is grieving or feeling the collective of loss of life, this book offers wisdom, prayers and guidance.

Each chapter centers on a fine line between seeming opposites such as “the fine line between faith and doubt.” Each pair of fine lines is accompanied by an invitation; for the example above, the invitation is “befriend unknowing.” Kathy closes each chapter with a prayer she has written related to the invitation.

You can learn more about the book on Kathy Swaar’s website.

Thank you for reading and being a part of creative community through this newsletter. 
With a grateful heart,
Kathryn