Little Alters August Moon was here and I needed to create fast. I discovered a couple offerings at Impress and took 2 calligraphy classes from Caitlin Dunden.  Fascinated by what I learned in her class, I researched and observed that many calligraphers write on top of water colored paper.  I like using new techniques each moon and was excited to introduce watercolor and calligraphy to my contributions for Little Alters.  I would create only 1 card with the words “What If” and a simple, elegant border surrounding, no flourishes.  Then, I’d provide a story of what if’s that might hide behind it in the space. 

I thought it would be fast and simple to make. 

I worked every day on my calligraphy – learning to spend 1 -2 pages on just practicing letters before starting anything.   I stumbled because my body was healing, which meant lots of sleep and not enough time to create.  When I did create, nothing, I mean nothing, would come together like the vision that came to mind.   When the full moon came along with our little alters deadline, and then it went and yet still nothing would come together, I thought, “Should I give up? Should I say Sorry I’m not going to make it. And Cry Uncle?” Not finishing felt like letting Marilyn down.  Even though, there are times when it's really ok to say - I just cannot pull this together, I still felt like I was letting the whole Little Alter's team down.

I had a sense, a teeny, tiny, constant feeling to keep going. Even if all I was doing was to practice my calligraphy.  So, I would pick up the pen and write my what if’s.  If you’re familiar with Abraham Hicks, then you may have heard of the “What If” game, where you dream up your amazing life by asking “what if…” followed by stating a piece of the amazing life you dream of having.  I would like to be there, but I’m not yet in the phase of, “Oh I deserve this awesome life, so I’m dreaming it and I can really see it happen”.  I’m more at the phase of belief/dis-belief.  One my consider it, between cautious optimism and pessimism.  Before I can climb the ladder to enthusiastic belief, I need to explore the previous areas.  Sometimes, when we are low or unable to let go of fear, that means, vocalizing and acknowledging deepest fears.  Other times when we’re not so deep in the world of fear, but not quite yet wearing our rose-colored glasses, that means wondering if it could really happen.  And so, my What If’s live in that middle purgatory or middle earth.

• What if Amazing Things Happened? 
  
• What if he chose me? 
  
• What if I was loved? 
  
• What if I let go? (Oh my God I don’t know if I can do that!)
  
• What if my dreams came true? 
  
• What if I didn’t have to live like this? 
  
• What if I could? 
  
• What if I did?
  

One of the days I was writing my what if’s in hopes of creating my final alter project, I fell into deep anger and unhappiness. My What if’s landed in that dark, murky pool of fear and anger.

• What if I stopped talking? 
  
• What if I stopped communicating? Would anyone even care? 
  
• What if I didn’t try, didn’t care? 
  
• What if it never happened? 
  
• What if others stopped pressing their guilt on me? 
  
• What if I never made any new friends ever again?
  
• What if I never felt happy again?
  
• What if I was always angry?
  
• What if I hated everyone and everything?
  

And… that sort of helped break me.  Of course, there were lots of tears – anger, frustration, fear, sadness, loss, humiliation, confusion, or hurt.  Ok. So what if it didn’t get any better than it is right now? Ok. I’m there. And as Reba says, “When you hit rock bottom you’ve got two ways to go, straight up or sideways.”  I skittered sideways for a while. That was ok, but definitely hard. 

And then, something magical happened about 4 days after the full moon. 

There’s a set of drawers I bought a couple years ago that has been in storage ever since. I didn’t know what to do with it and didn’t like the color. Then, it was about to get tossed or sent to the garage sale pile.  But, this personal alter space (about the size of a personal café table) that I’ve been trying to create all of a sudden had it’s base on which to build, it was that set of drawers!  And, because I’d been letting go (that’s what you do when the moon is waning) and thanks to how much I’d learned about layering acrylic paints, I was able to fully let go and slap all kinds of crazy colors of paint on the little set of drawers. I just whack, slap, slather – whoa! That looks cool!  It looked like a carpet, some boho-chic style thingy that one would pay lots of dinero for. Go me!  Slap, slap, slap. It's far from done, but I'm loving it all the way on the journey!

On the 5th day after the full moon, the full magic of the alter space happened. 

I took myself to breakfast.  I enjoyed the morning, the food, and a walk.  When I got back, I checked my mail and received a package from Marilyn (we’re trading this month).  In it was a key. A key to a journey.  She gave me both lock and key.  The key was a necklace with beads Marilynn had created and the overall sentiment was to use the key to unlock the journey to whatever I needed it for.  I put the necklace on, wore it all day and all while creating my What If Cards.  Marilynn – it helped me so much! The sound was delicious and it was all just what I needed to help me finish my August Moon alter piece.

It took me nearly all day, but the time passed gently and easily.   I wanted to hang the cards on a hook in the space. So, I dug through my paper stash looking for pre-cut ATC water color paper and found these cute little tags with holes that were a little smaller than the alter space – that meant I didn’t need to cut down or resize them.  Then, I dug out my watercolors and discovered my brand new tube of Opera Pink (can you say neon?), and also colors that were created from gemstones – sugalite, turquoise, manganese, and fuchsite.  So, I have a way to incorporate gemstones and their energy properties into my work. I love drawing in mother earth!   On I continued with my slapping of paint , a little here, a little there;  oh sloppy fun.  

After painting both sides and waiting for them to dry, I got out the sumi ink, Caitlin gave us to try in our second calligraphy class she taught at Impress.  Let me tell you, it was love at first write. I’m not sure I want to use India Ink anymore. Sumi is SO smooth, fluid, and much more forgiving.  Plus, I got less gunk on my nib as I wrote. I practiced a full sheet of W’s – W, W, w, W, W, W … round ones, looped ones, sharp ones, big ones, flourished ones, plain ones, until my hand needed a rest.  Then, I dug out the sheets, quite a lot thank you, of “What If’s” I’d been writing over the last month.  I starred ~ 9 of them, one for each card.  I started writing “What If” on the front of every card.  Then, after letting the sumi ink dry, I flipped them and wrote the finish to each “What If”. 

While I let the backs dry, I dug around in my stash for a hook.  I kept thinking “cup hook”, but didn’t have one. Then, I looked at one of the future alter spaces where I’d been storing a wee hand I’d sculpted months ago in polymer clay.  I shaped the hand into a mudra, middle finger to thumb , a form of prayer and energy transmission.  And you know what? The tags/cards actually fit perfectly onto the hand AND if held upside down (as in the fingers pointing to the ground, wrist to the sky), it worked as the perfect hook.  Magic! Simply magic. Oh, my little house Faeries are so helpful!!  

Thinking back over the last month of calligraphy practice, I know now that none of the time was wasted. Not one minute. I needed to practice my penmanship.  I needed to process all the emotions and am grateful each day of making mistakes and practice helped me do that.  And, in the end, the final product doesn't hold the energy of my anger or fear.  I observed that when art is made in the negative state, no one wants it. Why? Because it holds that energy and can transmit to the buyer or receiver.  I've long needed avenues to process my negative emotions, but definitely don’t want anyone else to be impacted by them if I can help it.  Combine that with my deep desire to not create waste, and it’s a bit of a kerfuffle.

 But this moon, the universe taught me to just keep practicing without trying to force every practice into something sale-able, usable, or defined as “valuable” by the current world standards.  It taught me to work daily, even for very small amounts.  And then, when the inspiration finally culminates and strikes like lightning to Tesla’s coils I will instead offer to my creation, my joy, my appreciation, my gratitude, and my delight at the amazing and finished piece of art that just might be, quite sale-able indeed. 

A local paper store, Impress Rubber Stamps - an amazing store mind you, hosted a class on Handwriting with pen & ink taught by Caitlin Dundon.  I've been playing with quill pens and nibs since I was in high school and always felt a bit awkward.  I didn't know anything about Caitlin, but am always inspired by anything that Impress creates or offers.  So, I signed up for the class thinking I could learn something new.  Too right.

I walked into a class of 15 other people in a space no bigger than a walk-in closet. My first impression was: Crowded. I didn’t know anyone. But the 2 tables were perfectly and invitingly set-up for each student – paper, pen, nib, and ink in a teeny, tiny well.

With only 2 seats left, one at each table, another woman and I arrived simultaneously. I sensed the woman was nervous and being courteous and offering her first choice at seats felt important, but at the same time, I kept feeling like I should sit at the table nearest the door, but didn’t know why. So, I offered either open spot to the other lady to be polite.  She chose the table nearest the door and I sat next to a gray haired woman with pink bangs. A right character that one.

Seated elbow to elbow, we were supposed to practice writing fancy, flourish letters in calligraphy, the old art of the written word.  I began class thinking, "This will be exciting. I’ll make a perfect alphabet. I wonder what we’ll learn."

 As we got started, it became glaringly apparrent to me that my classmates were not in a joyful space. In fact, many were determined that their work was the worst and no amount of encouragement from the teacher, Caitlin, nor admiration or comment from other classmates would disuade them from how awful their work was. The funny thing is that when I looked at them, the letters were all the same height, width with only a few wobbles here and there.  

Caitlin was really amazing with everyone. She always found something nice to say, "I like the energy you have coming out of your pen." or "Oh you've gotten all flourishy here that's nice."  No matter what people said, she stayed positive and encouraging. I applaud her. It is so easy to catch a train to negative town and get lost wondering the streets of "That's not fair" and "I'm so awful, aren't I?".

As Caitlin showed us different ways to make letters, a young boy about 12 was asking questions and very inquisitive, rather curious about the methods of handwriting. He came with his grandma; so much love between them and so much joy to create things together. I would love to see the things they created. "There's something special about that boy." I kept feeling. Whoa! Where did that come from?!  I don't even know this kid. "Kayso anyway. Focus on the class, Gwen. Everyone's gonna think you're weird." I told myself.  (Like they don't already know that I'm weird. This is not news.)

Back in my seat, post demo, as I sat listening to the other students whine and complain, an amazing thing happened to me.  While I was practicing A, B, C, C, C, D, D, E, E, W, E, F, F, F, F, G, G, ... I recalled all the times I had whined and complained. I thought about the questions I asked Caitlin earlier - "did I sound like that?"   I thought about how many classes I'd taken and how hard on myself I'd always been when I didn't get something right. How many crocodile tears had I cried?  How many fun things had I given up and "thrown a fit" because I didn't get it on the first try?  Because, no matter how small or if only the fit was felt inside my head, the energy of it was still there affecting me, coloring the rest of that day or affecting my ability to create.  

And as my mind slipped into the pondering, chewing over an idea and processing how I'd been able to handle learning in the past, my hand just kept writing, H, H, H, I, I, J, J, K, K, K, K, K, K, L, L, L, L... No letters were perfect. None matched the example. No two even looked the same. But for the first time in ages, maybe ever, I didn't care. It didn't matter to me that I didn't get it. It didn't matter if my letters looked right. I was practicing Spencarian and some parts of each letter had a slight resemblance to the master. Wow - I saw my potential. And the more the other students complained, the more I fell into this meditative, don't care, not affected, letter-practicing zen state. It was pure magic.

Then, I started feeling antsy and yawning like crazy.  So I got up and walked around. The longer I was at the class, there, the stronger the feeling was that I had a message to deliver to the young boy.  If I’d sat at the other table, I would have sat next to him and been able to joke and converse with him, learning what motivated him to learn calligraphy – aren’t we all just a bit curious about  a young teenage boy who is interested in art? There’s something special about them. My brother was the same way.  Fortunately, my mom encouraged us both to create art. Supplies were always available and we were given free range to follow our muse.

I went back to my seat and practiced with the silver and gold.  I knew I had to comment, but didn't want to be weird, shunned, or come across as kinda freaky, cause some random stranger telling you things can be so unnerving. I know because I've been on the receiving end!  This boy was commenting to the teacher that his pen was catching on the paper.  Voila - universe gives me an in.  I was using the oblique pen, one that took away all the catching and turned the pen strokes into a single fluid movement. It was SO freeing. I turned to him and offered the oblique pen. He took it eagerly and went to work.  

Then, later, I asked him and his grandma what they intended to create with the techniques they learned - writing letters to family.  How nice.  I kept seeing a picture of a pirate map and a letter.  Now, I haven't thought about the pirate map that my friend Shannon made for our pirate party in years!  As I started talking, words tumbled out of my mouth unfiltered (scary!) and direct as though I was channeling. "What ever you do, you need to continue to study and learn and follow what interests you about calligraphy. Because you are going to create something very special that will bring joy to lots of people." I told him.  (brings tears to my eyes as I write. He's going to change the world, you know.)  He and his grandma listened, then he jumped right back into writing. His grandma thanked me and I recollected to her about people saying similar things to me when I was a kid and didn't understand then, but do now. I told him about the pirate invitations and map Shannon created and he looked inspired.  So, little man, follow your heart and you will discover your art. 

And that is how, the universe can work through you for the greater good. I don't know why I was to give him this message. I don't know what he will create.  But I do know he is a special human being and I wish him joy and happiness. 

What else did the class do for me?  Well, I drove home and was SO inspired, and motivated by the zen state I achieved and the progress I felt I made that I immediately jumped into finishing a skirt that had been sitting on my cutting table for a couple weeks. I'd been fussing days before, but just saw the problems, fixed them, and am now one hem away from completion.  

Then, a day later, I looked up calligraphy practice sheets so I could achieve a more uniform look and discovered, IAMPETH, The International Association of Master Penmen, Engrossers, and Teachers of Handwriting.  On their site are several old books on everything from quotes to practice sheets to bird flourishes. Did you know most of those old fashioned frilly birds are all pen and ink?!?!  I know! AWESOME, huh? And now I can learn how to do them by practicing examples from these early 1900's and older books IAMPETH has posted.  I got one out last night, grabbed the pen we got in class and just started playing and practicing. The result - a pretty darn fascinating and vintage looking flourish occurred (below).  And in the middle of it, I realized that I'd made an eye lid with lashes. So I filled in an iris and voila! Gwen's vintage modern flourish. Oh the fun I'm going to have, my friends.  My creative juices are dancing and bubbling!  

Yeah, uh, you like my new inkwell? It's a depression glass doll-teacup I picked up at a local sale. Tre inspiring, no?