Mariel's Art and Sketches: cottage

Ramblings of a Twenty-something-year-old-Grandma

Busy as a bee, not that I'm complaining.

There has been much going on and I have been going back and forth between writing and illustrating so much recently that the strain in my back has been all but forgotten though it reminds me of its presence every now and then. A tedious schedule surely, but, one that I find myself supremely devoted to and grateful for. I wouldn't want it any other way.

Recently, I found myself sleeping at five in the morning and waking at nine; not a good habit and one that I cannot recommend. In the past two days I've slept remarkably earlier and I think that's improvement even if but a little. I slept at four am and twelve midnight respectively. While it is certainly still not a healthy hour to sleep, it is with optimism that I quite agree that it is the little steps that make improvement a steady and better change. And coming from an insomniac, that does say a lot about the kind of effort one puts into being an early 'sleeper'.

Amidst all the hustle and bustle, there's always time for slowing down. And I admit, I miss walking about three kilometers one way to the grocery store back in Itoshima. It was such an effort, despite being rather exhausting, always calmed me down more than sitting. I suppose it is because of the all the nature I've been seeing there -- I've seen huge birds flying over the sky and goodness I can't express how much fascination struck me during such moments, especially when I saw that fox by the mountainside as well as the ginkgo leaves and sinewy spiders. The latter was too much for me, but they do carry some sort of elegance which are rather better to be left to look at than to be touched.

As with the embroidered pouch pictured above, I have discovered a novel way to cover the edges of the piece. Whereas before I would make satin stitches as borders which took too much time and thread, recently I've used lace on this beige floral pouch. I'm still getting the hang of making the edges look as if it is part of the canvas itself. nitpicking at the stray threads to make it look clean. However, it is not for me to declare that I wouldn't do the satin stitched edges anymore as I do love that look about it. Perhaps not just for every piece. Time-wise, the lace takes little time to make and this piece took only about a day to finish, compared to the two to three days for the satin stitch. I'm quite satisfied.

Each day I am discovering new techniques and media to work with as well as little realizations about myself. Already at twenty-eight, an age, which, compared to what Dr. Lucy Worsley has mentioned in the BBC documentary of British Romance that thirty five is, as uttered about the colonel in Austen's Sense and Sensibility as, well...ancient, twenty-eight seem to be nearing extinction. I do hope NOT. No, such is not the case. Anyways, I've been side-tracked once again. Oh goodness, it's such a relief that this blog encourages the free flowing of thoughts or else I would have been answering to a strict writer mentor -- fortunately, I run this blog. Well then moving on!

So at twenty-eight, I've realized that I could be such a good manipulator of myself. Many a time have I surrendered to my own whims. Sleepy? Go on and take a nap. Craving for that piece of chocolate? Come on, a little kitkat won't hurt. Still feeling like the energizer bunny at 3 am? Well keep working on that story or illustration until 5am then!

Recently, however, I am able to stir myself away from such thoughts and actions. Perhaps the best example of all, is how I am able to coax myself away from melancholy. It may be a surprise to some but certainly not to me, that my melancholy has been nibbling away at my own self-worth and self-esteem. Melancholy, even if it sounds so elegant, is one unforgiving fiend. It kept bothering my already busy self with feelings that hold back any sort of progress as well as pulling me into the deep waters once again -- a place where I have already escaped from so many times. Believe me when I say that depression is not an easy obstacle to tackle. That one's harder than all Olympics events combined and no, I am not joking. No one really just snaps out of it. It involves a slow process of recuperation.

And goodness how tedious it was. Nobody wants to cry as you're struggling to come up with new concepts for your projects. And nobody wants to feel like a burden. If anyone who suffers the same way as I do, or feel sadness and guilt, please know that you can go through this, although I tell you, it takes time and a lot of effort from you.

In order to get away, I deceived myself. Odious sounding, yes, but that's what I did. I pretended to be ecstatic. I looked at things that are relaxing, learned new bits of information from documentaries and made myself think that I am well, even if I certainly am not. This self-deception may not work for some and I do not recommend it, but at the time, encouragements from quotes or self-pep talk didn't work. It only made me feel worse because, if people felt better with such things, how broken am I to feel nothing and get nothing from them? And so self-deception it is, though without the consequences of course.

And I should mention music! Music always soothes me. While it's alright to let it all out while listening to rather morose pieces, it's good to listen to those that make our hearts swell with happiness and cozy warmth.

One particular piece flew in my direction one night at 11pm just as I was about to sleep (gasp). 'Winter Bear' by Kim Taehyung of BTS came at such a dark time in my August that when the first few notes of the song played, I was already a sobbing mess. And as the music video progressed, I thanked God for the little things that save me. Bit of a fact, I've called Taehyung a grandpa version of Detective Conan back in 2014/2015 and I can't tell you how much it pleases this young grandma of how he is now. I do admire him so much and boldly speaking, I do feel like a kindred spirit with him. Ambitious sounding, but what can I say? Life is full of surprises.

'Si tu voi ma mère' by Sidney Bechet is also a beautiful piece. I could listen to it all day while illustrating and writing. The same could be said of the other pieces of music which I indulge myself to listen to. One day I shall put up my playlist.

Well, I'm just rambling now, am I?

I hope you are all well!

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, by Mariel

In art, cottage

The Tapestry

I have always been fond of crafts, of cottages, of simple things made with love. Well, anything made with love has never been simple at all, though in its simplicity, they feel a lot more close to the heart, more intimate. Maybe this is just me.

Anyways, ever since the Honey Bee embroidery, I found myself more and more in love with needles and threads. I was always watching my mother as she busied herself in her cross stitches and crochets, that I only dreamed of ever doing the same things she did so beautifully. I would always loved the way she did her crafts as she told me stories and sometimes, even in the silence, I was happy, as long as I get to watch her make her new piece sitting by the door with the light coming in from the outside, golden and illuminating.

I feel that these simple yet beautiful moments have inspired me to finally start doing embroidery. Sitting down with a quiet perseverance and a little bit of simple chatter with loved ones, I start making new pieces that felt close to home, to heart. I love the feel of making an image with threads, flowers and foliage all made from scratch on stretched canvas. The sketch of what I wanted to make is always the hardest part as well as choosing the colors. I love ink until now, and it is only until some time did I start using colors. I must always feel that the colors are "right" -- sometimes they are too dark, sometimes too bright. I find myself drawn to the earthy tones. But as always, like a ray in the middle of the forest whose colors I loved so much, a bit of sun light always finds its way to my colors.

As for the fondness I have for nature, it probably stemmed from my childhood days spent looking at the bright blue sky, of intently watching the leaves and weeds swaying in the wind, at the brightness of our little garden filled with flowers and bees, of listening to the songs of the birds, of the feel of the gale in the middle of the day, even the moss on plant pots and the ants crawling up the concrete walls. They were all so fascinating to me and I felt that they have always been there and will always be in existence. I felt that these things are eternal and have always felt like an innate sort of distant memory I had in me, tucked away somewhere deep inside me. They spoke to me in a way I could not understand. But now, I felt their presence every day. Even though I have some rather unpleasant days, it is to these beings that I draw strength from plus the warmth of love and home.

I have been pricked by my needles so many times, accidentally snapped them in two twice as much and still I love this. It probably wouldn't change.

Embroidery feels so much like one of the things I love -- nature and home. They are all like threads woven to make one lovely image, complex and yet filled with beauty. And we are all bonded together, hundreds and even thousands of threads all into one. And it always fills me with a deep kind of happiness.