Soul-full

By Pam Hadder

We are in that mysterious twilight time in the Canadian north - near the cusp of the winter solstice, we witness the slow degradation of day light, replaced by a familiar half-dream time that nestles between now and then.  My body responds by demanding more sleep, a slower pace, intermittent bursts of citrus-bright colour, and/or more caffeine. Canadians frequently joke about hibernation, but modern demands for working folks push toward the opposite: we fight the natural rhythms of the human body to slow down in winter.  And so my conflicted heart waxes toward the heavens, surveys the subtleties of colour, and gravitates inward to float in the dream-time place, soothed and sustained by the compelling poetry of words and sound.

I am always excited for the winter solstice – it brings us closer to the season of lights, Christmas, Kwanzaa and other holiday experiences that reinforce togetherness, cultural resilience and appreciation of our place within this living miracle. But more than this, the solstice means we are one day closer to spring!  By the end of January, the days are noticeably longer, and I feel a surge of anticipatory energy.  It is always this time of year that I receive my focus or mantra for the year ahead.  Most of the time, it just comes to me and I know immediately that it is true and meaningful.

This year is different – the interference from without seems larger,  and my personal insights are more soft-focus, nebulous, and  yet imposing like a great, old tree that I can’t quite wrap my arms around no matter how hard I try!  I feel like the messages are there, but I am not quite connecting.  My sleeping dreams have been varied and bizarre – no help there!  A few nights past I dreamed of incredible Hanukkah/Holocaust themed installations in a gallery.  An ash-grey room sparkled with fine glitter like ground marcasite, and here and there were bright jewel bits on the walls – looking closer I saw the bas-relief of Jewish family life.  It was both eerie and beautiful – it spoke to me of the survival of beauty, family and tradition amid great evil and opposition.  Another night I dreamed of wildly challenging outdoor escapades with my dearest friend, waking exhausted and questioning, “What was THAT about?” And on another occasion I was engrossed in mundane filing, sorting and admin work – a little too “widget factory” to relate to my working reality, and therefore simply crazy!  I imagine my brain doing a disk clean up and file dump – like “clean out the fridge” suppers I have been known to make for my children; it’s just doing what it can with what it has on hand!

And so I wait, expectant, hopeful, humble – maybe my mantra is merely to question or to dream?

Seeing Spots

By Pam Hadder

It's that time of the year - winter is encroaching, cramping my style. I feel myself fading and drifting off, like a dry leaf on a river current.

I came across this vintage photo online this week, and was entranced.  The glamorous woman with a pet cheetah - over-the-top, curious...staged for a vintage ad, or real??? Imagine the folly, the sheer irresponsibility of keeping this magnificent cat as an urban "pet" - crazy stuff.  So why did this image draw me in? It had such strong appeal and I wondered why.  The more I thought about it, I realized that I saw myself reflected in both the woman and the tethered cheetah.  

Like that poor cat, these days I feel trapped by circumstance and the weather. I want to get loose and run for the hills - warm hills, that is!  And like the woman in this photo, I find myself zoning out, shopping, tidying, arranging, procrastinating - disconnected and dreaming of the summer months that seem too far away; will they ever arrive? Escapism, internalized emotion, longing for a different reality. It's too quiet, too claustrophobic and I want to scream at the top of my lungs just to know that I still have a voice and some passion - a wild feline yowl complete with flashing green eyes and bristling fur! I wonder how that spectacular tantrum would go over in most spaces? Likely not too terribly well, but it makes me smile inside to think about it (see, there I go again, hiding out within - a sullen child making a blanket fort with clothes and furniture).

One positive sign - albeit rather surreal, considering the raw, face-ripping temperatures... I saw a robin at the university this week.  I honestly had to do a double take.  It was Valentine's Day, and I joked with the dude sitting beside me that perhaps it was a sparrow wearing red for his sweetheart :) 

It's great that I have my coursework to push my mind and energies outside of its selfish, snow-drifted, ice-packed February pathways. It forces me to generate a little friction with my mental muscle when all I want to do is pack it in, cover myself in polar fleece and bed clothes and hunker indoors until it is spring.

Today when I played guitar, I closed my eyes and let my mind drift forward into the future. I just enjoyed the sound of my instrument and the way the strings felt as I plucked, strummed, cajoled - and suddenly there it was, a cool breeze swirling around my bare feet. I could hear the wind chimes wildly clanging outside on the patio - was that the smell of hail in the air; a spring storm?

No, it was too cold - frigid, meat locker-esque; I felt my sad little dream bubble burst.  I placed Pearl carefully on her stand and followed the cold trail, wishing I'd put on my moccasins.  Had the blizzard ripped the roof off my little house?  

Aha...mystery solved... my son left his bedroom window open!  OMG... with -30 Celsius temperatures and howling winds - he opened his bedroom window wide, and went outside to play with his pals.

Tonight when I am burrito-wrapped in my heated bed, perhaps I will dream of the cheetah. I'll break free of my leash and run in sun-burnished fields, pausing to lap sweet water from glassy pools, and soaking up the natural glory of the day. 

Two Steps Back

This is what I woke to this morning - a blanket of white snow... in APRIL!!! It must have been very still over night, because the snow was perfectly coated onto every branch, wire and object with equal weight and measure - Mother Nature has OCD! (My wintery look is thanks to Hipstamatic --iPhone app; I was not frosted over like a beer mug, but snug in my jammies, indoors ;) I was the first one awake in the house this a.m., and when I saw all of the snow I worried a bit about my social butterfly daughter, who was out clubbing last night, and driving one of my cars. Then I saw her telltale little pump tracks from the garage to the back door of the house -- nice straight line too (good girl, Baby!). So, no need to check her bedroom - home safe and sound. Snow covered ground has a solemn honesty. Although I am really sick of winter weather conditions (especially when it is officially spring!), I must say that I was a bit spellbound by the quiet beauty and bluish-white light's reflection in my rooms during the early morning hours. There is something to be said for moments of solitude, and the spare, sterile quality after a snowfall further sets the stage for thoughtfulness. I enjoyed my morning coffee immensely, just watching the birds dig for seed; appreciating my time alone, and marvelling this chilly Saturday morning surprise.

Tranquility

White Light
For an artist, a white canvas is both a challenge and an opportunity - you can do anything you want, limited only by your imagination. It is very much like stepping out into the winter air and being the first to make an impression in the newly fallen snow.

Right now I have several canvases and objects awaiting my painterly touch - it's like the stark winter landscape is sneaking into my studio as winter hangs on into March. I don't want to go out, so it is coming to find me.

Seeing that I am beginning to fade away, my employer has ordered me to take a creative day this coming week - starting to get excited, but that day (although greatly appreciated) is never quite enough; I could lose myself in my studio (or find myself?) for days on end.

Snow Drifts
By this time of the year, I admit that I am tired of the blanched landscapes of my homeland -- post-blizzard this a.m. the view was almost blinding; even with my transitions glasses perched on my nose! But there is purity and introspection and inspiration in that whiteness -- and yes, great beauty. The bride awaits and I have assumed the role of her suitor.