Tag Archives: creativity

Day Thirty-Nine, Tile Art

My day today was rather uneventful. I had to get quite creative with what I have on hand to keep warm. 55 degrees doesn’t sound that cold, but when you’re trying to sleep, believe me it is. But, I wrote it off to the cost of boat living because it’s not like I know. I’m a land-lubber.

Today, the host contacted me to check in and see how everything was going. He asked if it got cold at night. Why, yes. Yes, it does. His reply was filled with dismay. He brought me a thick warm blanket so I won’t have to wear a sweater, use my shawl/airplane blanket/bathtowel for a blanket. SQUEE! It’s the little things.

I found out that the guy I hollered Ahoy to yesterday as he parked his sailboat wins every race he enters. He’s top notch at sailing. Really nice fellow, smiles and waves when he sees me.

OH! I also needed supplies. I needed water, some food, and a snack. I found where the local grocery was, despite the rain, I rented an electric assisted bike. I bundled up, got my grocery bags into my purse where I keep my tissues (heehee), and headed out into the drizzle.

Siri does a much better job at giving directions than Google maps does. I have my Siri set to a british male voice so I can pretend it’s Doctor Who talking to me.

Whomever was the idiot that said once you ride a bike, you always know how, did not understand how a short person like me should or could ride a bike made for “normal” height people. With the scooters and the bike, you have to push off to get going. Dudes, this was not something I expected to relearn. My front wheel was going back and forth like a sewing machine’s needle goes up and down. The road was a cobblestone/asphalt combination which made for some potholes and rough riding.

When I got to a smoother road, I was able to figure out how to tiptoe pedal. As long as I was steady pedaling, the bike pulled me forward easily (SCORE!) but the moment I stopped pedaling, the drag slowed me down equally as quick. (YIKES!) Trick: Keep pedaling steadily. Do not stop pedaling.

I got lost several times because the instructions told me to turn where there wasn’t a street. When I turned on the next possible street, her exasperated (I swear it’s true) voice corrects my lack of navigation skills even though they’re hers. But, I just kept pedaling because to stop would be to fall over.

I found the grocery, got my things I needed, exited and it was really raining. I figured I was already damp so I’d bite the pillow and just do it. But, the groceries I got, really not that much, 22 Euro 50, wouldn’t fit in the basket of the bike. I was getting soaked and uncomfortable. I walked back to the store’s overhang and called a Bolt (Eco-friendly Green) car.

A ten-minute ride and I was at the dock. She was really personable and friendly. I enjoyed her company. Her name was Ana.

And now, what happened last night? I went to a studio called The House of Tile. A local artist owns the shop and teaches people how to paint tiles in the styles of the Portuguese people. She was kind, helpful, a patient teacher, and played good music which I sang with and even danced a bit.

The class was about two hours long. There were three other people there learning how to do it. One of the techniques she taught was one that I’ve used before to get lines onto a pumpkin I wanted to carve in a non-traditional way. She had tricks and tips to make the experience an all skills activity.

Between you and me, Ana was magical. She could make things happen instantly. Her repeat phrase when questions were asked was “It’s your tile, do as you like.” She gave the tools, told and showed you how to use them, then let your creativity do the rest.

A trip to the bathroom discovered this beauty on shelves filled with creations.
This is a cock. It’s a symbol of luck and prosperity. I have to forbid myself because there are colorful roosters in every souvenir shop I poked around in yesterday. Must resist…
Ana supplied water or coffee while we painted our designs. The little plastic pots are the glazes. The wood keeps your hands from getting on your project.

I’ll return to her studio on Wednesday afternoon to collect my fired tile. I’ll show you when it’s complete.

The first night I was on the boat, I was seasick. I slept with a trashcan on the bed next to me. Now, it would seem, I’ve got my sea-legs. I’m not at all bothered by the steady, sometimes jerky movements of the boat. The sleeping berth has a rope tied over it which is tied to the dock. It creaks and groans, stretches and relaxes. It’s oddly soothing.

May peace be with you wherever you are or go. You are loved!

Into The Otherwhere

There are times in my life where I felt so much weariness just maintaining my facade that I couldn’t bring myself to explode. I mean strip down to the bare bones and rebuild myself into my birthright. The very idea of destruction to create something real seemed counter-productive, but without truly understanding, I invoked Inanna, Goddess of Love, Fertility, and War. One of the Ultimate Mother Goddesses that I embraced with great fear but deep trust. I had no idea what I was doing, but in the core of my being, it was the right thing to do.

Gate of Authority

I removed my crown. I released my prayers to a God I didn’t believe in, or rather, doubted his existence. I surrendered my name that identified me by birth and allowed it to become dust of the earth. I gave my power to the winds of change, the solid earth, the fires of passion, the waters of emotions, the edge of the Universe clenched tightly in my abandoned fist. I allowed myself to become whatever would become.

Gate of Perception

I took off my rose colored glasses to allow any vision of the new world to manifest. I needed to understand the rawness of reality. I required it because I could no longer make my mind see what wasn’t there. I had to face the illusion that I’d created; safety, love, comfort, stability. I couldn’t lie to myself any longer. I opened my eyes and felt shame for what I’d allowed myself to be fooled by because it was truly obvious.

Gate of Communication

For every time I justified words that weren’t my truth. “Oh, you just have to get to know him. He’s not really that bad of a guy.” or “You don’t understand. He’s not like this at home.” or my favorite lie, “He didn’t defend her because he was defending me.” All lies.

Things I told myself because I wanted so desperately to be loved, to be worthy of love. I needed to speak a truth that nobody seemed to want to hear. If I raised my voice, deafness fell on my audience. I became (to cross pantheons here) Cassandra, the soothsayer that could see the future with 100% accuracy but nobody would believe her.

When I realized my voice was aimed at the wrong people, I let it go. They didn’t need or weren’t ready to know me at that level. Onward!

Gate of Compassion

For so many years I was groomed to be the perfect victim. So much so that it never occurred to me that I was one. Even now, at 50, I still have difficulties thinking of myself as anything other than me. But world events or politics such as they are, remind me on a deep level that I was bred to be consumed by men like popcorn, until I found this gate. I had to find a way to love every broken piece of myself. I had to discover that the words I was taught to destroy myself by people that sought to destroy me, were theirs, not mine.

My words were those of a mother caring for a sobbing child. My words were ones of comfort and reassurance that I was worthy of love, capable of love, in fact, I AM love. This gate held me for the longest time because centuries of anguish had to be unwoven, stripped, and remade into my light, not into their darkness.

Gate of Personal Power

At this point I realized that I was harming others with my shards of broken edges and broken promises. I released deception of myself. I released deception of others. I had no reason to manipulate others to suit my needs even though I tried constantly. I allowed others to take from me because if I gave it, they couldn’t steal it.

I returned the power I had stolen from others and set them free of me. For example, I had to walk away from relationships that no longer served me or my companions. I gave up drugs, abusive relationships, alcoholism, nicotine, and the acceptance of violence against me.

I no longer gave sex away willy-nilly (I know). I found more power in holding my core strong. I mean, I love sex, I won’t lie, but there’s something different when it’s given freely and not coerced or forced from my loins. Now, you may think, “Well, duh, Mare!” but I again point out that I was groomed to believe that my vagina was my worth. I didn’t understand the power because it was not seen as power but shame.

Okay, so I also learned that telling my truth to large groups of people was extremely cathartic. I was allowed to say what happened to me and my family lived. I was safe when I walked the stage and spoke of the gun violence I’d experienced at the hands of someone I once loved. I learned at this gate that my personal power was more than who I am, it’s what I am to myself, to others, and to the world. It is my light of LOVE that will not ever again be dimmed.

Gate of Creativity

I found new ways to value myself. I had to believe, from top to bottom that I was created with a purpose so Divine and sacred that only by walking deep into my belly could I find the earth in which I was planted, the water which nourished me, the air that I knew so intimately, the fires that cleansed me, the spirit which guided me. I had to eliminate anything that contradicted that balance of perfect love.

You may hear me joke about my body size, but it’s my shell. I love every inch of this meat suit. It’s kept me moving forward for half a century. It’s weathered so many stormy seas and still sets sail each morning. How could I discount one inch of this glorious being I am? I love me. I love my body. I love how I feel. I love how I look. I love who I am. I had to accept me to love me with no conditions. It was hard work, but baby, look at me now!

Gate of Manifestation

So at this gate I stand Naked. Bare bones flapping in the breeze like wind chimes. Flesh stretched over shells to make drums, entrails stretched into harp strings, and nothing of my former self remains. There isn’t a door or an audience to applaud this place I find myself. I can’t even stand to be around people at this point. It’s not that I’m afraid, I can see them as they are. I see them for their lost paths and misguided anger. I’m not different than them, but I’m not the same either.

I want to step through and see myself reborn. I want to become what I’m meant to be. I’m ready. I have nothing more to lose. Seriously, nothing. Every material good is vanquished. Everything I thought I knew is scattered on the side of the highway between there and here. I have so much lost blood that I’m crusty with scabs of things I’ve torn from my body that didn’t belong there. Leeches of my energy, parasites of my love, rapists of my body, shamers of my spirit are all released into the mud I’ve created in tears cried zig-zag across the country. I am ready.

Gate of Death

And there she died. The part of me that couldn’t love. The part of me that was so devastated she hated the sound of her own name. The knife-like pieces that stabbed anyone that got too close, that wanted to take anything from me, that needed anything from me, that wanted me to be happy or not. I had to allow her to die. I had to lay her to rest with a fancy wreath of flowers in a cold field under the ever-watching stars where the milky-way sang a dirge and witnessed the sacrifice. I was finally free.

Rebirth

As I write this, I realize that for many years I struggled to find my footing. I had many people along the way that helped me even when they didn’t have my best interests at heart. I had to trust the journey. I had to reach out to people that I was deathly afraid of, but found them to be some of my strongest allies. I’ve trusted some people to my error, but they taught me to be cautious with whom I interact my power with because not everyone has my heart.

I still have years to go in this life, Lady willing, but I want to know what it’s like to find that peace of mind. I am strong, I know that, but I’d like to help others find what I’ve found. I’d like to show them the way to love of self, others, and the divine spark within. Here’s hoping for another fifty years!