Why "YES AND"

Yesterday I received two beautiful gifts. Well, actually they were in barter for services rendered - I taught a biology lab class to my dear friend's daughter a couple of years ago and I'm being paid over time in exquisite handmade items from Carla, my friend and incredibly talented artist, designer, and craftswoman.

The first gift was a midori style journal. The leather was dyed by Carla, and all the inner pages chosen and assembled with love and personal attention to things I like. The elastic band closure has the word "brave" stamped on it because I explained to Carla my need to be brave in the sewing studio - to step out and try things, to cut into fabric, to explore color combinations and new patterns, to sew without fear. I need that word in other areas of my life, too, as I often worry far too much about what others might think of my choices, instead of trusting God, wise counsel, and my gut.

You can see photos of my gorgeous journal here.

The other gift I received was a leather cuff bracelet with a pewter charm onto which Carla stamped the words YES AND. When I requested those words, she wanted to know why and here are the inspirations for this motto ...

 1) I have been following the work of modern quilter, Sherri Lynn Wood, for awhile. I love her recent book, The Improv Handbook for Modern Quilt. Because her work also focuses on sewing and social practice, I contacted her with questions about sewing and its possible benefit in trauma healing for our refugee friends. She graciously replied and encouraged me with suggestions of others to contact and books to read. Thank you, Sherri. The reason she is an inspiration for my YES AND bracelet is from comments she made on this podcast regarding the ways we influence our work and other areas of our lives by saying, "Yes, but ..." instead of "Yes, and ..."

"Yes, but ..." second guesses and gets us stuck.

"Yes, and ..." affirms and moves us forward.

"Yes, but ..." focuses on the negative, what we don't like, why we can't make it better.

"Yes, and ..." accepts the mistake and sees positive ways we can address or redress it.

"Yes, but ..." stifles creativity.

"Yes, and ..." fosters it.

So, wearing a YES AND bracelet while working on a quilt or designing a crossbody bag for Journey Home or even cooking dinner - really while engaging in any endeavor - sets the tone, the atmosphere for positive, beautiful, brave, creative work.

2) Long ago, I heard this Story Corps podcast. Actually, it was June 15, 2006, the NPR Story Corp webpage tells me. I remember exactly where I was driving (Morehead Road, past the Rocky River, going up the hill toward Highway 29). I also remember that I pulled off the road near one of the Speedway campgrounds because I got choked up and needed a few minutes to dry my eyes before I could drive on. What hit me then and has stuck with me since is the what Caywood says between 1:44 and 2:05 in this interview. A thousand yeses.



3) Finally, and undergirding it all, is my understanding of the overflowing, free grace of God, in Christ Jesus. Salvation is a gift in which God says, "Yes, and ..." over and over and over again in my life. In the midst of problems, mistakes, failures, wrongdoing, apathy, dryness, hurt, rejection, disappointment, fear and every other way in which my life goes awry, either by own doing or the consequences of others' actions, God gives "exceedingly abundantly above all that I could ask or imagine." When I am in the doldrums, I need the YES AND reminder that my beautiful, made with love, cuff gives me.

Thanks, sweet Carla. You didn't know how much was contained in those two little words when I asked for them, did you?!

Creative, generous friends

I have some very creative, generous friends.  Carla, who makes beautiful jewelry and mixed media journals,  agreed to make a necklace for me.  The ceramic beads she's using (pictured below) came from Kazuri Beads, in Kenya.

Waaaaay back in 1981, when Coty and I had first moved to Nairobi, we visited the workshops of Kazuri and watched women roll, shape, and paint the beads.  I still have two necklaces that I bought at that time.

This new necklace that Carla is making has special connections - it reminds me of a time and place that holds many fond memories, and it makes me think of my very dear friend, who is creating a work of art that I will treasure.

 
When Carla gets her blog up and running, I'll let you know.  You would enjoy seeing her work.

Thanks, sweet friend, for all the ways you encourage and inspire.

"Simple Aliveness"

"Things have changed greatly and still are changing, can they change much more? ...

And yet I wonder sometimes whether we are progressing.  In my childhood days life was different, in many ways, we were slower, still we had a good and happy life, I think, people enjoyed life more in their way, at least they seemed to be happier, they don't take time to be happy nowadays."   

-Grandma Moses from her autobiography, published in 1952 (she was then 92)

Hoosick Falls in Winter, painted in 1944

Phillips Collection

"For all who suffer from what might be called living strain - and many do complain about the malady - a few minutes' exposure to the presence of Grandma Moses is powerful therapy.  On Tuesday this ninety-three-year-old lady made one of her rare trips from her up-state home in Eagle Bridge, NY, to appear at the annual Herald Tribune Forum.  Some said that she stole the show.  Others were impressed with her astonishing vitality, her mental alertness, her humor, simplicity, graciousness, enjoyment of the occasion, and so on.  The plain fact is, everybody felt reinvigorated while in her presence. ...

While many distinguished persons were appearing before the Forum, a little old lady of ninety-three stepped into their midst and endeared herself to all by her simple aliveness ..."

-New York Herald Tribune, October 22, 1953

This part of the country, this area of eastern New York, just near the Vermont border, is sometimes called Grandma Moses Country.   She began painting here when she was in her late 70's.  She lived to be 101.

I've driven these roads over the last four weeks - over the pass from Bennington looking down across snowy hillsides and rolling pastures toward the ice rimmed Hoosick River, passing old farms with their colonial era houses (white, with dark green shutters, very like my own house in North Carolina!) and red barns and weathered out buildings.  I've watched the colors of the sky change with the weather, brilliant azure on clear days with the sun casting long, undulating shadows across the snow, and gunmetal gray on days when the sun barely manages to pierce the overspreading haze of low, snow-laden clouds.  I've listened to the train that follows tracks right along the Hoosick and watched it slow to a crawl through the village, little boys waiting on the sidewalk to cross the tracks, counting the cars as they waved their arms and stamped their feet to keep warm.  I've noticed birches and sugar maples and old, old oaks.

On a beautiful walk in the woods and then over tea with Mary in front of the woodstove, I felt the sweetness of simple aliveness.  I think a few minutes exposure to the presence of my dear friend is pretty powerful therapy.  She doesn't paint, but she walks and knows the woods and trees and especially the birds, and hand feeds the chickadees as they follow her around the yard and down the driveway.  Anybody that comes to visit can hold out a hand with sunflower seeds and it's not long before a chickadee alights to snatch a seed. That's enough to reinvigorate anybody!

Driving home down the mountain late in the afternoon, the beauty caught me and held me. I imagined Grandma Moses looking at scenes so much like the one spread out in front of me.  The low rounded mountains, the foreground dotted with farm houses and fields and woods, and a winding river. I could understood her love of this place.  I'm very glad she picked up her brushes at 78 and started to paint.


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I'm also grateful to Alicia Paulson for mentioning this book, a used copy of which I promptly purchased and have just finished reading.