Sisterhood. I love my real, live, sibling-type sisters, and I just adore the "sisters" I have found in the art and blogging community. There is something magical about the connections made on Etsy and eBay, BlogLand, and Cyberspace. Being an "old-fashioned" gal myself who loves to live in the past with pretty and shabby trinkets, chippy cupboards, and antique photographs, I never would have thought that I would come to embrace Computerland.
But I have.
I have discovered women who share a passion for olde things, shabby pretties, and artists who appreciate the simple aesthetics of beauty itself. Photographers, graphic designers, cupcake makers, scrapbookers, altered artists, dress makers, collectors... the list, and magic, go on.
Although I love the nostalgia of the small town, where newspapers were black and white, postcards were the rage, and train travel was the only option, I recognize how lonely this existence might have been for the creative soul. Would it have been frustrating, dreaming of paints and Paris, to have to instead dabble in laundry and pluck chickens, darn the socks and pickle the preserves?
I am drawn to these homespun treasures, though. The tablecloth, which had been laundered with care, is made from heavy cotton with a bit of fancy lace edging. Was the lace necessary? No. Did it make cleaning more difficult? Yes. But it brought beauty to the life of the woman who made it, the woman who painstakingly stitched it and loved it. This same woman made pretty labels for her rhubarb raspberry preserves, and took pride in how the deep red fruit dazzled in her cupboard, and took pride serving it to her lady friends at tea. Because her friends appreciated the beauty, too.
This love for beauty and appreciation for loveliness is what brings a lot of us together. Blogs and websites have become our tea table, where we can pull up a chair, ooh and ahh over each other's creations, and gossip a bit over our tea. We decorate our blogs like we would decorate for a tea party - we put out the best linen and make sure there are fresh flowers in the pitcher. We want our guests to feel welcome, and to share the beauty that we have created.
3 comments:
Thank you for making me feel so welcome in your 'home'. It is this kindred spirit that draws each of us together. Sharing the treasures of days gone by on such a modern invention as the internet is ironic, but I am so thankful that we have this form of connection. Otherwise, I would not know there was someone as lovely as you. Have a nice weekend! Twyla
First, I must thank you for the more than kind response to one of my paintings - it came at the end of a hard day & is much appreciated. Second, perhaps because it has been a hard day, this post moved me to tears. The picture you paint of a woman in a small town, pretty-ing up her life, full to bursting with creativity, but also with her arms full of everyday life, is wonderful. I am reminded of a bit in the book (not the movie, though) To Kill a Mockingbird - a description of Mayella Ewell, poverty stricken, no hope; a sad life leading her to accuse an innocent black man of rape, and well, you know the story. A quite pathetic character. In the book, there is a description of her home, trashy, horrible, but sitting on the fence or porch or somewhere she had several jars & coke bottles, each containing a red geranium. Well, I remember them as red - perhaps they weren't all red. Reading it broke my heart - it fleshed her out more as a person, although it in no way excused her actions. I figured Harper Lee must've known or seen someone like that.
I am rambling. Again, thank you so much. I love your blog. I'll be back.
:) Debi
Debi, you are right - they were red :) TKM is one of my all-time favorite books. I am so glad you came by! Your work is moving, and your words are just as beautiful!
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