PURITY of PERSPECTIVE .


PURITY OF PERSPECTIVE

“I CAN HARDLY DESCRIBE TO YOU THE JOY OF THOSE EARLY MORNING WALKS TOGETHER, AND IS IT NOT TRUE THAT IN OUR EXTREME YOUTH WE POSSESS THE CAPACITY TO SEE MORE CLEARLY AND ABSORB MORE INTENSELY THE BEAUTY THAT LIES ALL BEFORE US, AND SO MUCH MORE SO THAN IN OUR LATER YOUTH OR IN OUR ADULTHOOD …”

Anita Shreve: ‘The Weight of Water’

I so remember the excitement and wonder I felt, as a young child of five or six years, walking the five blocks to public school and seeing, really seeing, blades of grass, an ant or caterpillars (of which there were many), a stone which caught my eye, the shapes of leaves rustling in the trees, a crack in the cement sidewalk, the gravel between the sidewalk and the road. Each day was a new, anticipated experience that made me feel so incredibly alive. Being so much closer to ground than an adult, gave a magnified view, a more immediate perspective to nature. The old-fashioned perennial gardens right smack at my eye level were magic with their bleeding hearts, roses, peonies, and a multitude of other bright and beautiful blooms and fragrances.

I dawdled on my four daily journeys, to and fro’ in the morning and again after lunch, loving the experience of examining my world. In between the walks, having to sit quietly and still in the classroom was an impossibility for me. Filled with thoughts itching to be expressed and bubble forth, my chattiness resulted in reprimands. Then came the inevitable long minutes in the hall, waiting to see the principal and suffer the strap on my little hands. None of that deterred me. My thoughts, ideas and experiences persisted in being expressed.

The one punishment that gave me pause was the notation about my talkative nature in my report cards. A gentle admonishing from my parents resulted. I hated disappointing them.

Authority figures in school were another matter. Their opinions did not impact me as much as did Mom and Dad’s. My quiet rebellion at school continued into my post grad nursing program where I was always in trouble. I did try harder with teachers whom I liked and respected. But even as a young child, I tended not to respect anyone who did not like or respect me.

I don’t know where this ingrained belief system came from. Perhaps it was knowing my parents not only loved me, but trusted and respected me. Adults who did not live up to that mark in my eyes, experienced my talkative, waywardness, my only method of exerting some control over my own life.

I was an only child for the first eight years of my life with no peers to share my wonder of the world around me. Perhaps that influenced my desire to talk in school.

Whatever the reason, I remember with great affection, the magic of my childhood and the magic of my small, happy world. And such memories keep me feeling like me, despite the wrinkles and limitations of age.

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LIFE STAGES . TRUST THE JOURNEY .


TRUST THE JOURNEY

“She wakes up each morning feeling like she has nothing to do. No routine. No purpose.”

Lisa Genova:   ‘Love Anthony’

I read these words this morning and thought, that is exactly ME. That is me when I wake without that feeling of excitement about hurrying to a sewing, writing or art project, or without an appointment, or wanting to return to a novel that is drawing me with the power of the tide.

I do enjoy sitting, apparently doing nothing, but my mind has to be engaged in creative thought for me to relax.

I keep a pile of six to eight library books on hand to alleviate the desolate feeling of nothing-to-do. Mind you, there is always housework or organizing a closet or room, but at this stage of my life – been there, done that.

Our journey thro this life is tumultuous with its constant ups and downs, its real or imagined slights. We all barter, in one way or another, to maintain a relatively consistent feeling of well being.

I thrive on passion – for opportunity, creativity, my family.

The alternative to feeling purposeful is, for me, depression. So, in order to ward off that monster, I always have a multitude of projects on the go.

Early in my marriage, it was one project only – needlework. Then I needed a new interest and, for a few decades, it was researching and publishing our genealogy. With that completed, I felt lost, until my creative juices latched onto sketching with pen and painting in watercolour. Florals are my thing.

Gradually, after several years, I began to feel I had said all I could in that media. My search was on for new artistic horizons.

I don’t know if it is because I am now in my early 70’s, but I now seem to flit from one project to another. Whatever it is, I am artistically all over the place – a true jack of all trades, master of none.

But there is nothing as satisfying and addictive as waking to a passionate urge to create.

That is what keeps my juices flowing and keeps me loving my life.

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Creative Juices . quilting . sewing . knitting .


So, I have been sewing a little, and quilting, and knitting (a very little) and most recently have been hooked on practising lettering – modern calligraphy. My creative juices are all over the place at the moment. But I love the excitement of waking with design ideas rolling around in my head. That is what I have been missing for a year or more.

I love waking, making a coffee, and hurrying to create. It is exhilarating.Sweetie loves her toy sleeping bag

Sweetie loves her ‘toy sleeping bag’

This is all a huge change from watercolour painting, which I will return to eventually, but fresh creative motivation is what I seem to crave now. I tackled quilting and sewing projects for each of our five children and their families …

Andrew's Hudson Bay patterned table runner

above ~ Andrew’s Hudson Bay patterned table runner

Carrie's quilted Boho table runner Carrie's table runner

above ~ Carrie’s quilted BoHo table runner

Greg's Cycling table runner in greys
Greg’s Cycling table runner in greys

Jo's table runner

above ~ Jo’s quilted table runner

Some of my quilting is a little wonky as I am a novice, but loving it!

Steph's decorative linen pillow cases

Steph’s decorative linen pillow cases

Hahaha - my knitting group friends untangling my wool yarn for my afghan (lower right).
Hahaha – my knitting group friends untangling my wool yarn for my afghan (lower right).

Sew, that is what I have been up to the past months. I am finding that, for me, choosing colour and pattern is the most difficult part of these projects. More about that next time.

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SPRING in WASAGA . Poetry .


Maple Tree in Spring against an azure sky.
Maple Tree in Spring against an azure sky.

SPRING IN WASAGA

Alive.

Sun
warm on my face,                                                                                                             glaring off the pages of my book,                                                                              casting artful shadows on the greening grass.

Birds
visit,
tweet songs from bare old maple tree.

Breeze
fresh and gentle, kisses my neck;
demands slow, deep, restorative breaths;
lifts wisps of my hair in a dance.

Lazy drone of small private plane,                                                                               skims thro’ azure sky,
not a cloud in sight.

Winter is only a memory.

……………………………

The Dirty Secret about CPR in the Hospital (That Doctors Desperately Want You to Know)


A few things have changed in medicine over the last few decades. Okay, a lot has changed, and most of it good. But along with the improvements in patient care there has been an exponential increase…

Source: The Dirty Secret about CPR in the Hospital (That Doctors Desperately Want You to Know)

NOTECARDS from INKNPETALS .


From Inknpetals

Soon Available …

a

new selection of notecards

from original watercolours

by

Linda Paupst

available February, 2015

Neon Poppy

Poppy, Neon

Version 2

Raspberry Sorbet  (Poppy, Pink)

My Poppy1_0579

 Poppy, Orange 

P1000059

Magnolia, White

PINK MAGNOLIA & BUD

Magnolia, Pink

MAGNOLIA BRANCH

Magnolia Branch, Fuchsia

PEONY

Peony

SAILBOATS

SAILBOATS, Armstrong Beach, Trout Lake, North Bay

Dr. Seuss's Garden

Doodley Do – Dr. Seuss’s Garden

%22YOUR LIFE IS THIS MOMENT ...%22

“Your Life Is This Moment …”

Doodley Do Garden Wall

Doodley Do – Garden Wall

Doodley Do, pink

Doodley Do – Pink

FRIENDSHIP

Friendship  (cyclamen)

Hibiscus 2

Hibiscus – 2

 

DARLEEN's TULIPS

Darleen’s Tulips

. . .

Inknpetals notcards, Back View

                                                           Back of Each Notecard                                                                                                                      Size – 4.5” x 5” with white envelopes.

Prices

$3.50 each

$3.00 each for 10 or more

To Order, contact:

Linda Paupst at INKNPETALS: lrpaupst@gmail.com

. . .

South Georgian Bay Watercolour Artist                                                                                  Linda Robertson Paupst

Linda’s ink and watercolour paintings have a stylized look which compliments traditional or contemporary settings.

Colourful florals predominate. This is a natural extension of Linda’s roots in North Bay Ontario where she grew up in her family’s greenhouses, florist and garden centre.

Linda’s paintings have been described as:

* ”Beautifully & elegantly drawn.”
* ”Sensitive work. You capture the spirit of the flowers.”
* ”Refreshing, inspiring, moving.”
* ”You capture the strength, beauty & fragility of flowers – here today, gone tomorrow.”
* ”You have such colour, form, movement”

. . .

INKNPETALS – http://www.krop.com/lindapaupst/

Images are not to be copied in any format without express permission of the artist.

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WINTER WATERCOLOUR .


It has been snowing here the past 24 hours – I mean it is a windy, gusting, noisy blizzard – a perfect day to stay indoors.

On our front porch, my birch bark wreath wore the snow like an elegant white fur cape. That inspired me to sketch it and paint in watercolour.

The inspiration and the result:

Winter storm from our front window
Winter storm from our front window
Birch Bark Wreath wearing a blanket of snow.
Birch Bark Wreath wearing a blanket of snow at our front door.
Watercolour painting of Birch Bark Wreath in Winter
My Watercolour painting of Birch Bark Wreath in Winter

Since I have not painted for almost two years, this was a feel-good accomplishment.

. . . . . . . . .