Elysian Field Originals

Sitting at my sculpting table last week, I realized I was surrounded by more polymer clay leaves than I had a pile of in my back yard.  After time spent of mixing clay, imprinting leaves, and curing them I had a pretty substantial array…and yet, no motivation to do anything with them.  Uh oh, creative block !!!

When life gets in the way (and head) of an artist, that finely tuned thing we refer to as creativity, muse, or inspiration will often grind to a screeching halt.  “Things” had gotten into the way of my “flow” as I like to call it. Family responsibilities, employment woes, you name it, I allowed it all to overwhelm me and each time I sat down to work all I could see were my problems.

Fortunate to have a place to retreat to away from everything, I packed up some clothes, clay, sundry crafty bits, and high tailed it to the mountains of Maine

For two days I sat on the screened porch that overlook the mountains and listened to nothing more than the whisper of wind through the trees and birds who were ever busy at the feeders in the yard. I was an observer to the busy forest life that went on around me as if I were invisible. There are so few places nowadays where you can witness the rhythm of nature uninterrupted like this, and here it’s a magical thing.

Birds tending to their young, deer coming to the lake to drink, the whimsical otter that busily swims back and forth searching for a tasty mussel, the whippoorwill who sings as the last light of day disappears.

Mountain storms blow throw with a fierceness that is scary at times, and the wind howls like a freight train through the forest, and yet if I were not here it would still go on. I am just honored to share the experience, an observer.

I thought about the birds particularly after a fierce mountain storm the other night. All during the day they were at the feeders with their young, back and forth and as the storm approached they slowly disappeared to take shelter. The forest became quiet and as the wind came through, and then the rain, I wondered how they fared. When the storm had passed and the rain subsided slowly, you could hear the symphony start up again and within minutes they were back at the feeders as if it had never rained at all. And I realized that to the birds the storm was an inconvenience, nothing more, and they stayed right on track with what they had been doing before.

So I sat down to my table I have set up here and began to create once again. My muse was back. This time taking it in stride that I’ll run into a metaphoric mountain storm now and then, but maybe this time I’ll view it as an inconvenience and continue down the path I’m traveling in Nature’s stride.

Thanks for visiting!

When I wake each day one of my favorite things to do is go outside with my coffee and sit for a bit. I have bird feeders all along the tree line of my property and each day the variety of birds that visit me is amazing. Birds of every color and hue, melodic sounds as they sing to each other, and the beauty of the day always inspires me. I’ve been feeding them for so long now that many who are regular guests to the feeders tolerate my presence quite well. I am probably a bit of an oddity to them as I sit with a steaming cup of coffee, glasses somewhat askew and my outfit…well, out in the country early in the morning, let’s just say, there’s no need to dress up.
I added a bit of sound to my page I found that is very close to what I hear each day. I hope it inspires you too. The picture is of a Cedar Waxwing that I took last year. He was most annoyed that I’d disrupted his breakfast and looked at me like, “Lady, are you still here?”