Showing posts with label creative path. Show all posts
Showing posts with label creative path. Show all posts

Friday, January 25, 2019

The Most Basic of Human Needs

Hey all!

Just a peak at the direction I want to take with my new Tumblr page when it's up.

I'm working on so much right now so my appearances here will remain spotty until the spring. The novel's first draft progresses as does the increase in business over last year which is very nice as well.

This post was inspired by a statement which I heard made on a podcast the other day by the author Matt Gemmell.

Hoping you find that creative spark in everything that you see!

nicolas


"It's almost a sad thing that a big chunk of society doesn't understand the sheer critical necessity for fantasy; one, for escapism in its own right, but also as a way of reframing what we're seeing in our own lives. I think it's fundamentally critical and a mental health requirement to have fantasy and fiction and stories and escapism. I think it's one of the most basic of human needs."  -  Matt Gemmell

There may not be any one thought about creativity that I agree with more than that.

It's been the constant in my world. From the earliest of days.

My escape.

My true north.

My polestar.

When I was working the minimum wage jobs, bussing tables, pumping gas, prep cook etc it was those creative outlets I returned to at the end of each work day that filled me with belief and made everything around me seem right.

When I was bullied in school, or more likely, ignored, it was the fantasy worlds and the activities dreamed up in my imagination and that I kept in sight that got me through each day.

When, as can happen, my whole world felt as if it were falling apart as an adult, it was the words, the images, the music I made in the space I created to pour my heart into that allowed me the solitude to heal and grow.

The only times in my life I've been mired in darkness were the times, few though they were, that I turned my back on creativity and began to focus on some other ideal, some other dream of a life that belonged to someone else and certainly not me.

 If I were to put all of the requirements of a happy life on the table and try to whittle them down to only the most necessary, creativity would be there after most others were removed. It might very well be the sole survivor.

It's that vital.

I don't regret a single thing I've done with my life. I dreamed big every step of the way, fell short, picked myself up and started again. I've tried more paths than most, failed more than most too, but kept going until I found the one that suited me best.

When you chose a path of creativity, people will question every decision you make. They'll sum up your dream through the lens of their own experiences and life. That's ok, they wrote that script themselves and cannot imagine the experiences of others being more true than their own. The person who gains most from a story is always the person who wrote it. Just allow them that and hope, for their sake, they've gotten as much out of that sporty they tell.

So you? You write you.

In the end, as I think back to all of those well-meaning folks who wondered how long I could go on making my way stumbling through the dark in the creative world, dreaming of something other than a normal job or existence, I am reminded that I've come to know hundreds of people, working in dozens of other professions, who all wished they could be making a living doing something creative but I've never known a single painter, sculptor, illustrator, actor, artist, mime, poet, storyteller, dancer or writer, at any level or stage of their own story, who wished, even for one day, to be anything else.

XO
nicolas






Friday, February 2, 2018

New Work - Happy Groundhog Day! First Friday Post - February 2nd

Happy Imbolc, Candlemas or Groundhog Day, depending on how you celebrate it! May it be magical!


February already???? The time does indeed fly. . .

This month, for my first Friday post, I just wanted to share some of my new work.

I mentioned before that we are taking time out to make truly new pieces, explore new ideas and branch out a bit. It's a bit scary as it has meant NOT focusing on restocking favorites in the shops and allowing sales to dip a bit but I was really starting to feel a tad burned out last year remaking the same things over and over while constantly pushing new ideas further down the "to-do" list.

It's worked like a true charm. Just allowing myself to go in directions I want and not worry so much about what might sell has been SOOOOOO rejuvenating.

I hope you enjoy this first peek into the world of my new work!

Thank you as always for all of your comments and support!

Nicolas

So I have spoken about making figures many times before. This year it may finally happen.
Still nameless, but here are a few views of a Faun Figure. 

Each little curl of his leg hair is added and shaped individually.  He is just over 4" (10cm) tall. 

Mica powder adds the weathering to the cape and hat. The staff features a Swarovski crystal teardrop. 

I have not decided on the price. . . or even if I CAN part with him. And this is why I rarely make figures. lol

Towers? Yes, that's not new. . . but I have been inspired to build them on the most enchanted and precarious of
 landscapes. Like this precipice! The whole piece is over 7" tall. 

Of course, as I go "bigger and better", I am continually drawn to making things smaller and smaller for some reason as well!  That little flower pot is all of 2" wide!

Since childhood, mice have been deeply imbedded in my imagination. Brian Jacques' "Redwall", Mrs. Frisby
 and not all that long ago, David Petersen's "Mouse Guard" to name a few. . .
I started working on this idea for a story, "The Brotherhood of the Muridae", a few years back.
Only recently have a I settled upon the figure shapes, clothing style and the basis of the whole background story. Here we have a cheesemonger and a fez topped mouse monk as the first two! They're awaiting names and their individual stories. :)
With the exception of custom orders, I've stayed away from making large statues for some reason.
Changing that this year as well! 

I've talked about the thrill of seeing my skills grow over the years. I NEVER would've attempted such a large,
 intricate cobra with that looping body and scales before this! 

And using accessories like the crystal scarab in Bast's neckpiece
(I know that it's hard to see!)  is also something I wanted to try more of.
Doing all the new things has rekindled interest in the old as well. Such as my miniature Moai statues! 

Or this particular mushroom fairy house style! Welcome back!

Friday, December 29, 2017

An Exciting Year Ahead - 5th Friday Post - December 29th

Hi Everyone!

So here we are on the cusp of yet another New Year.  I've written before about no longer making resolutions but there ARE a few things I DO like to do before or at the New Year.

First, I love to choose three words that I want to be my focus for the coming year. I print them out and keep them above my editing station and I check in with them from time to time.  I haven't settled on any of the three yet for 2018 but I feel I DID manage to stay true to the ones I chose for this past year, especially "diligence".

Second is an old family tradition that I loved when I was a kid. Every New Years Eve I put several coins out on the windowsill and leave them out overnight until New Years day. The coins should be silver (symbolically, not literally) and when you bring them in on New Years Day, you put them somewhere safe so that you do not spend them the rest of the year. If you do this, it is said to ensure that you'll always have enough through the year and I will say that it's always worked for me. . . but not when I was a teenager. . . I was always broke then. : )

Third, I will make my annual reading pledge at Goodreads. Last year I chose 30 books as my goal and ended up reading 33 or 34 I think. . . I may increase it to 40 this year ( I can always sneak a few comic collections or graphic novels in if needed).

I'm looking forward, as always, to the year ahead. I've got a full range of new ideas for my shops, I'll be furthering work on "The Ledgerkeepers" novel, working on off Etsy web sites for that world and for my Shadow of the Sphinx shop. Oh and I will be starting up on Instagram in January!

Ok, can I just make two small complaints about instagram already? I signed up and chose an account name a few weeks ago.  It's not my name OR any of my Etsy shop names by the way. . . that's just me preferring a little anonymity. . . . and I was immediately bombarded with a list of people I might know/want to follow. Now, I have not been active on any social media platform for quite some time and so almost all of these people they've recommended are from the distant past. . . I just find it creepy that they instantly know and are linking me to people who I've known in the past! AND, I checked in yesterday just to get myself ready and I already have two dozen followers. . . only one of them is someone I know, the rest are random accounts, some seem fake, and a few local area business accounts. Come on now.  I have ZERO posts! Why would anyone who does not know me be following me already???  What if I start posting really bizarre or disturbing art? Still wanna be my friend there "Tiny Vacation Home Rental in PDX"?
Hmmm?

OK, rant over. :)

That said, I AM looking forward to getting the visual feed going and I am secretly hoping it allows me to find artists who inspire me from all over the world, like the old days on Myspace when it was still cool and ad free.

Well, I think that's it for this edition. . .

I am sending wishes to you all for a wonderful start to your own New Years and may it be filled with light, love and inspiration each and every day!

XO

Nicolas


Friday, October 20, 2017

Making of a Maker - Third Friday Post - October 20th

The Road to Here


If there is one thing I have wanted to share most from my experiences in life, it is how I became a maker of things. And by that, I mean the long road to "here". From those first inspirations and indulgences as a child to the present moment.

This weekly third Friday post will focus on exactly that.  And maybe even exploring side-roads to talk about what and where "here" is exactly, since it is always changing. 

If there is one thing I want to put across right off, it's that what I offer here is just ONE individual's perspective on how it can be achieved. I cannot even be sure I see it clearly in retrospect. I can only talk about the beginnings, the course changes, the bits of luck, inspirations and decisions that led to here and now.

I do NOT think my way is the right way for even a good chunk of folks who want to be artists or indulge in creativity full time. What my path is, is one more viewpoint that perhaps you can take something from it all and go forward with it in your own pursuit of becoming the working artist you want to be. 



So where to begin? 


How about this, I believe you can reinvent yourself time and again ( I certainly have) but what I've come to learn, all thee years later, is that you have to embrace, or at least make peace, with who you are inherently. Where you come from. What "made" YOU.  


You don't have to live in and with it every day if it was, as it sometimes can be, negative or shadowy, but I think that you do have to give it more than just a nod of acknowledgement. 

How many times have we all seen that artist's statement, written in the third person, that just doesn't tell you anything about the artist at all? Oh, it's a list and who's who of degrees, schools and mentors to be sure. But then you turn and what you see on the paper or canvas or in three dimensions doesn't seem to have anything to do with that at all. I see that less and less, of course, and I'm happy that we seem to be moving beyond that as a whole in our world. I don't care where you went to school, where you reside, how long you've been drawing those concentric circles etc. . . I care about where you came FROM. What inspires you now and what did then. Who you are inherently and how that is honored today in your life. 


I came across a "modern artist" who was quick to tell you, in third person, about walking the same streets of Europe that the masters did and sitting at Van Gogh's cafes, living abroad. . .  but who was a midwest farm kid by birth. I never met that particular artist but I am guessing that no matter how they cover it or try to rearrange the parts, the farm-kid's spirit and essence is still there in everything they do and all that they are. Yet it seemed they were trying so hard to separate themselves from it. I know because I did that for years too. But now I'd say it's important to embrace it. You can reinvent yourself and still honor and pay homage to those beginnings. 

I say that because for me, going back to that origin, creatively, became a huge part of my road to here. Childhood imagination. The same one I used to escape school bullies and that filled the many hours I had alone in my room as a kid, was still there waiting for me when I ran out of "adult artist" costumes to try on.  


Keep in mind that before I came to this realization, I DID create sooooo much. I performed the music I wrote on stages, had gallery shows and was part of collective exhibitions here and there. 


What Interested me then was making something from nothing. Even in those childhood, neighborhood sports-playing days we were always making due with less. Less players, less equipment, less than ideal places to play. Gravel instead of grass, slanted side streets instead of level lots. . . sharing gloves and bats, hoping someone brought a decent ball. . . but regardless, we played just the same.


Outside of sports, which was never a full time interest, my attention was put into to creating worlds. With action figures, costumes, props etc a few of us spent entire days lost in scenarios from space exploration to digging out of post apocalyptic ruins, to medieval knights. Star Trek, Battlestar Galactica, Lost in Space, Planet of the Apes and so on.  Strangely enough, though it was becoming quite the thing and I was aware of it, I never got involved in role playing games like Dungeons and Dragons in those years.
We were, perhaps, the last of the "outdoor" generation of kids. Even on the worst of days weather wise, we spent as much time outside as we could. I mean, when else were we going to be able to pretend we were on that snowy, ice planet of Hoth other than when we were slogging around in the midst of a 12 inch snowfall with gusting 40mph winds! 
But I've discovered the amazing worlds of Role Playing Games as an adult and I can see the parallels between the experience we had in our outdoor imagination-born adventures and role playing in the tabletop gaming world. 


Paul Lafarge, an essayist, author and long time D&D player and enthusiast, writes how gaming is like reading a book:  


"You start outside something (Middle Earth; Dickens’s London; the fascinating world of mosses and lichens), and you go in, bit by bit. You forget where you are, what time it is, and what you were doing. Along the way, you may have occasion to think, to doubt, or even to learn. Then you come back; your work has piled up; it’s past your bedtime; people may wonder what you have been doing. In a society that conditions people to compete, and rewards those who compete successfully, Dungeons & Dragons is countercultural; its project, when you think about it in these terms, is almost utopian. Show people how to have a good time, a mind-blowing, life-changing, all-night-long good time, by cooperating with each other! And perhaps D&D is socially unacceptable because it encourages its players to drop out of the world of competition, in which the popular people win, and to tune in to another world, where things work differently, and everyone wins together."

As we grew a bit older, reaching 'tween years, that small group of us who relied on imagination separated further from the sports playing kids just as the reached that peak competitive phase. My social/play group dwindled to three and, often times, it might just be two.  

Of course, the advantage I had over even the D&D kids was that I didn't need a group to have my most memorable fun. The worlds that I explored individually in my alone time, and there was an abundance of it, were the best. Still, to this day, I can recall the games, the characters, the little places in my mind that I would return to again and again. 





So lets lay the groundwork for this Third Friday post series like this:


I am a product of many events, circumstances and actions. Like all of us, I made choices, took roads that were more or less traveled and, at times, had to double back to find my way forward again. But in the midst of all of that, there has been a firm, foundational knowledge that the world around me is a magical place. A place of possibility. And that the world we experience and see is just a fraction of what is out there for us.

When that world around me became less than magical, I changed it. When the people around me became less supportive, too destructive or just got too caught up in their own version of the real, adult world, often meaning they gave up on their own dreams and creativity, I left them behind. When the places I've lived became less than magical, I've moved. And I'm aware how that could seem like I am running from something but, in truth, I am protecting something deeper. 


And I'd say the greatest lesson I learned was to treat your creativity like a gift of creation itself. I have come to think that our creative pursuits should be treated much like having a child (or kittens, baby birds, puppies. . . whatever you prefer) Your idea for a creative life is born or hatched as the case may be. . . And it needs your attention, care and, especially early on in it's infancy and development, your nurturing and protection from certain influences and experiences. You wouldn't turn your child over to just anyone to "rear and raise", and you wouldn't take just anyone's advice about how to raise them. . . so treat your creative work the same way. It's your dream, your pursuit, your passion. Your child. 


It most certainly can be harmed by the wrong hands, the wrong mouths, the wrong hearts. 

And, most of all, what parent out there would tell you their life didn't change drastically when their child was born or, to a lesser degree, when a new pet came into the house. We rearrange our lives to take care of them, yes? You put aside many of your other pleasures and indulgences to be there for it at all times, right? 


Then that is how you should approach your creative notions too.  


Ultimately, if you are really going to develop the creative soul you wish to bring forth. Even the idea of "success", of making a living from it, is just another point on the map, and the map we draft is a lifelong pursuit of putting beauty, whimsy, color, imagination, words, imagery, ideas and thoughts. . . even utilitarian items. . .  into our world. 


I make a living at what I do. I work harder than I have at anything else in my life. More hours. Like a small child, it's not something I can put away at 5pm, turn off the lights and go home. Since I reached that goal, I've come to realize that it's just another rung of the entire ladder of my life's journey. I want to evolve and grow with it. Whether I can make MORE money from it is immaterial because I know i can adapt and change MY life to suit it. 


To close this first installment of the Making of a Maker, there is a poem I adore that I actually was first shown by my Zen teacher. She thought it was perfect for me then because at the time, as I tended to from time to time, I was struggling with these same issues of the making and care of a creative life. To this day, some 15 years later, it remains one of my favorite poems and I think that it sums up the creative soul, the maker, that dwells in all of us so well. 




The Way It Is
William Stafford

There’s a thread you follow. 
It goes among things that change. But it doesn’t change.
People wonder about what you are pursuing.
You have to explain about the thread.
But it is hard for others to see.
While you hold it you can’t get lost.
Tragedies happen; people get hurt or die; and you suffer and get old.
Nothing you do can stop time’s unfolding.
You don’t ever let go of the thread.





Thank you for reading, following and commenting! 
Keep MAKING!!!!!

Nicolas XO

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Beginning in October of 2017 I started to follow the following format for my blog, posting every Friday and under the following headings:


1st Friday of Each Month - New work ( New to the shops and a look at the making of one item each month)

2nd Fridays - Inspirations and Oddities (Links and thoughts about what inspires me) 

3rd Fridays - The Making of a Maker (advice and shared experiences of how I got "here" to where this is my full time job.)

4th Fridays - The World of Bewilder and Pine ( peeks into the world of the Bewildering Pine, the stories and books to follow and all around fantasy world making)

Friday, May 5, 2017

We Need Secrets

I read the following a few weeks ago and it has stuck with me ever since.

"I’ve written in other venues about the “thrill of the hunt.” And by that, I mean the hunt for that one back issue of a comic series you loved, that old album by the band you loved, or that out of print book by that author you loved. These “hunts” were a big part of my youth, and the very concept is gone now. Everything is easily found on the Internet with a few keystrokes.

But there’s more to the phenomenon than just the hunt for material goods. Just a few decades ago, it was hard to be an expert on something—even something frivolous. If you wanted to deep dive into something, it took time, determination, and sometimes a bit of creativity. When my friends and I could quote Ghostbusters verbatim back in the day, it was because we went to see the movie over and over again in the theater. If someone knew about a rare, alternate track by Elvis Costello, it was because they immersed themselves in Elvis Costello fandom over the course of years. When my friend could recite the names of all the First Age elves mentioned in The Silmarillion, it was because he pored over the book and made the list himself. 

Now, all of those things could be accomplished with a quick Internet search.

This isn’t “back in my day” complaining. I love the fact that all this information is readily available at our fingertips. We’re better off now, despite the loss of what I’m talking about. But I think there’s still something in human nature that wants to discover. To hunt. To learn some secret not easily found—or, perhaps more importantly—not found by someone else. For some of us, we don’t want to read about someone else’s discoveries; we want to make them on our own.”

- Monte Cook - MCG game design blog

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I could not agree more with Mr. Cook and what I also identify with in those thoughts above is the core of what makes creativity such a compelling pursuit for me. Everything I do, I realize, is about the slow discovery. The unfolding of time, abilities and the way we grow incrementally closer to what we create the more we put ourselves into it.  The secrets within.

For me, hand crafting in the internet age is an absolute salvation. I have been blessed by a lot of wonderful twists and turns along this road to making a creative life and the internet and technology are crucial in the avenue of selling, marketing, even offering inspiration. Yet one of the most refreshing discoveries was that folks, for the most part, still love a handmade item over something easily reproduced. 

I am befuddled by the number of people who set out to try something, creative or otherwise and, if it is not an instant success or at the very least, if it does not quickly show signs of being so, they move on. Now, I've done my share of "moving on" in my own life but we are talking about moving on after investing years in something before making that ultimate decision. Really taking them as far as I thought I could go, sometimes further. And all those things I left behind still play a role in my new discoveries at times today. The same way that a 16th century map informed the 17th century cartographer and on down the line. 

When I look at the sculpting and making-of-things that I have invested myself in over the last 8 years now, and I see those first pieces that sold, that people actually gave me money for, I am truly amazed.

I never questioned if I would get "here" one day. I knew that from experience and from the fact I grew up in an era when you HAD to put the time in. For anything. Nothing was available with such immediacy. And for that I am extremely grateful. 

It just takes time.

When I sit down each morning to work on my book, I know very well how far I still have to go. I'm new to that creative form of expression and I have to learn things on the fly, stop often to seek out a reference or sidestep the story to explore a character, setting, idea, grammar usage or ancient myth. It takes time, yes, but it has to be done.

In a day when folks are abandoning the well written blog left and right, the hard form of writing, for the ease of instant I-phone photo glam, for the lifestyle account and the Instagram fix, I feel grateful to have been brought up in another time. At the very least, one that bridges both worlds.  

I am so grateful for the fact that the one thing the internet will never change is that, to be good at something physical, something creative, be it sculpting, writing, RPG game design, painting, illustration, dance, cosplay, architecture, acting, landscape design, and on and on, you are going to have to be willing to sit down and put in the time. All the instruction, how-to tutorials and step by step instructions won't give you the skill without the hours of application. And they won't give you an original voice/style/expression either.

In the work of almost all of my blog friends here I have been given the gift of seeing YOU uncover those secrets in your own work over years. I've watched them grow and reveal themselves in time. There is so much beauty in that and it sustains me and inspires me as well. 

Those who are just starting or still dreaming of a creative life.  .  . you are going to have to take that deep dive, start at square one and do the work, try to refine that technique or reinvent it until you think you can't possibly do it again, then go ahead and do it again anyway. 

You'll pore over the hints, tips, instructions whether they came from a 100 yr old book or from a website. But trust me, it WILL be worth every moment you put in down the road.  By all means, embrace technology as a tool, just not as the means to the end. It will never be creative in and of itself. People made it so. People opened that door and refined it for you too. Now go further.

And if you, like me, want secretes to be revealed? 
Stick with the art. 
Stick with the practice.
It will make you so glad that you did one day.
I promise you.

And along the way
You will make those important discoveries
You will improve and know yourself better
And you're going to learn those secrets.
The most important of which will be the ones locked within yourself. 
The ones that nobody else can access for you. 

And those, no matter what the internet and our digital age provides for you as far as information at your fingertips, THOSE secrets will be the ones you will cherish the most.

XO
nicolas

New mini woodland Muridae Market mouse. Chettes is the first but more to come soon!

One continuos build/sculpt, layering colored clay, onyx eyes, a culmination of 8 yrs of secrets revealed and discovered.
Worth every moment spent. :)

Thursday, April 28, 2016

Signposts along the Road - The Keymaster

I have been thinking recently that it would be fun to write about the little things that, throughout my life, seemed to point to me finding my way back to the depths of my childhood imagination and ending up "here" becoming a maker of things.

Having the luxury of looking back always makes it easy to see these things from the distance. Most of them, of course, I could never have known or reasoned out at the time. . . but it is interesting to see the way they lined up, or returned again and again periodically, to point me in a certain direction or to act like signposts along the road. . . even talismans at times.

I don't usually think of things as foretelling or "signs" but actually believe they are indeed placed there to allow us to see, with this hindsight over time, that we made the right choices.

So today's look back is at one of the more ethereal ones (they are always fun to write about aren't they?) and one of my favorites.

The Keymaster

I - I have written before about one of my early childhood friends, Becky. She was the only girl who played with us boys at the apartment complex where I lived with my mother til the age of 12. Becky was a few years older than me and was a great sci-fi fan and she got to play all the juicy roles as elf and fairy queens, Sara Jane Smith, the Bionic Woman, the scientist trying to help Godzilla, Zira from Planet of the Apes (to MY Cornelius), aliens and astronauts etc etc.

When we would play games that were crafted more from our own imagination, she used to like to call me the Keymaster. She probably saw it in a movie or show that I never saw but it was also due to me having an old skeleton key that my grandfather had given me. I would always bring the key along as a prop for our little adventures.  Because, ummmmm, you ALWAYS need a key! The funny thing is, while Becky and I played together alone only once in awhile, whenever other kids joined in, they always wanted to be the Keymaster (everyone wanted that key!) . . . but Becky, taller than most all of us boys, would just shake her head and say, "No, Nicolas is the Keymaster and that's the way it is!" I was 10 years old and I felt like such an adult. lol

II - Truth be told,  I've always loved keys. When I was 16, I  also learned how to make illicit copies of keys. I saw it in an old bank heist movie, using card stock paper and crimping pliers to make an indented copy of the key in the thick paper and then, carefully cutting it out and gluing it to a key blank, You could buy blanks in any five and ten back then and I got my hands on one, glued my paper key to it and filed the blank down to the shape of the key. It took months of filing (it wasn't exactly fun "play") and, when it was complete, the key worked once in the lock I had and that was enough. I felt like I had really achieved something and, basking in my own small glory, I thought then too about those days of being the keymaster. . . I laughed about it and went on my way. . . back to the more relevant games of my teen years. . .

III - Fast forward to adulthood and the middle of my creative "lost years".  Early Thirties. Looking back now I can see I was teetering on the brink of packing the creative world, the one I loved and nurtured for all those years so dearly, away.

I never knew the girl's name but she was like something out of Through the Looking Glass. The first few times she came into the coffeehouse I managed, I remember thinking she was, in a city that prided itself on keeping it weird, the perfect ideal of that off the wall weirdness. She would order a pot of tea, usually Lavender Earl Grey, sit up in the huge front window of the shop and read a vintage book. She was hard to miss with extremely pale, white face powder makeup which allowed her pale blue eyes to really glow, vintage, colorful dresses and bows and shoulder length ringlet curls (a wig I believe) and ruby red lipstick to add the finishing touches.

One day she popped her head into the shop on a busy day and yelled out, "Hi Nicolas!!!" and waved at me with such enthusiasm. The girl I was working with that day asked me "Who is that?" and I had to say, "I actually don't know her. . . and you know, now that I think of it, I've never told her MY name."

A few weeks later I got a call from another employee asking me if I could come down to help with someone who they thought was a little "disturbed". When I got there, I was told the person was in the bathroom. A few minutes later, the Looking Glass Girl emerged. Dressed sort of the same as always but everything was just a bit . . . askew.

Hair
Makeup
Clothing
All a bit disheveled. . .  she got in line and I motioned to the girl working that I would take care of her.

When it was her turn, she ordered two cups of tea, asked how I had been and then spoke a few lines of quick dialogue, very low, that I couldn't make out at all. I got her teas, set them on the counter and before I could say anything she said, "Did you put enough honey in them honey?"

Caught off guard I replied, "Oh, umm, no. . .  I didn't know you wanted any honey in them."

She bristled (literally and visibly) shutting her eyes super tight. . . and launched into an unexpected, diatribe of undecipherable nonsense and broken sentences which lasted about 15 seconds. After which, she looked me right in the eyes again and repeated, "So I ask you again. . .  did you put enough honey in them honey?"

And my reply, this time, without hesitation was "Yes, I did, the perfect amount."

Her face lit up with the biggest smile I had ever seen on it and she said, "Thank you honey." and she took the teas, put her own honey in them anyway and left, beaming.

I think it's unnecessary to go into her decline beyond that because it was alarming but, a few weeks later I saw her for what would be the last time. Many of my employees had told me that she came in on occasion and would "act up", mostly the babbling and what some described as "mean looks" directed at them and other customers. . . but it seems that, if I was around, she was always calm and collected and held it together.

That last time though. . . when she came in, she went straight back to the bathroom and was in there for a good half an hour. When she came out, she stood at the far end of the counter and waited til she could catch my eye, then frantically waved to me to come over to her.

When I did, she handed me a half used packet of gardenia scented bath salts, a bottle of her perfume, a deck of cards in a little velvet pouch. At this point I noticed she had one more thing in her closed hand. She leaned over and whispered, "Nicolas, please take care of these things for me until I come back.". . . then she held out the last item in her hand, reached out, and put it into mine saying, "Nicolas, you must keep this safe. . . you know you are the Keymaster." and there it was. . . in my hand . . . a beautiful, tiny, skeleton key. The other kids working that day, who were concerned as I went to talk to her,  overheard every word and for months after I was referred to as "the keymaster" quite often in the shop, especially when a problem of any sort needed to be solved or handled.

In retrospect, I do not want to appear so casual about the Looking Glass girl's mental health. The coffeehouse was just a block from a church parish dining hall that served the homeless and displaced and two non profit facilities that dealt with many troubled people. It was, looking back, just an almost daily part of life in that neighborhood during those years.

And please know that I could never look at an event in the stream of someone's personal, mental decline as a "sign" for myself from the universe.  I do have to say though that the Looking Glass girl, always in her own paracosm, even when seeming to be even-keeled, was in that way definitely a kindred spirit of some sort. My own paracosm may be a conscious choice but it is as far removed from most people's view of our world's reality as can be in many ways.

The idea of her calling me the keymaster, some 25 years after I was first anointed with it by Becky, makes me think that there is grace to be found within every situation. And the threads, no matter how much we may have lost our way, are always there revealing themselves.

We never really can let them go. . .

And though I never saw her again, I held onto the things that the Looking Glass girl entrusted to me until I sold the coffeehouse. . . just in case she ever returned.

So to each of these parts of my path, I must bow graciously and remember them all as equal parts of my path. Important in their own way.

All a small part of what led me "here".

Sunday, March 6, 2016

The Inner Nine Year Old Strikes Again

It's funny, The more that I have been thinking about the idea of wanting to please my inner nine year old, the more that comes to me about what that actually means.

On the surface, it seems easy to do. Seek out the tv shows, music, games etc that one loved so dearly in childhood. It is all, thanks to the internet, at our access after all. But, in truth, I wanted to go deeper than that to something more essential.

First, I chose to think of my inner nine year old because, in truth, I can barely remember anything of relevance from that time. No single major events. . . but a world of joy and imagination.

A few years earlier? Yes. . . I have recall as far back as 5 or even 4 and I know I can recall some key moments from even those years.

Everything pretty much from age 11 on?  Absolutely. Crystal clear.

And I have glimpses. Little bits that come to me that I THINK might have been from that time.

But with nothing concrete to grab ahold of, it seems my mind goes in search of something deeper and, in all honesty, I am not sure what it means or how one would exactly embrace it.

This is what came to me the other day.

Do you remember being anywhere in that 7 to 10 age range and having made a plan to go outside and, perhaps, play a game with your friends? Maybe tree climbing or rope swinging? Maybe to the pool? Maybe the weekend neighborhood wiffle ball game or unexpected sled riding on a snowy winter morning? Anything from that time that was something you just couldn't wait to do or be part of when the time came?

What I want to know is this. . .

Do you remember the urgency with which you ran to do said activity? Do you recall being so filled with excitement that you literally could not contain it and hit the front or back door of your house RUNNING? The latch pushed and the door thrown open in one single motion while almost at a full run. . . the door swinging as you bounded out and across the porch, or yard, or down the steps. The inability to contain the fervor for whatever lay waiting you in the coming hours just beyond that door?

 Or maybe you were running to come back inside to catch a favorite show or movie on TV.

Yes?

When was the last time you experienced that same thing as an adult? Now here we are, as adults, we shuffle here and there, keeping composure and cool. Always wanting to be in control. We may be feeling something that would inspire such behavior inside but, outwardly, we are often not able to let that same childhood joy show.

So maybe pleasing that inner 9 year old is about allowing ourselves to really feel the utter joy of those simple things again.  Dropping the adult overtones and just basking in that cup-flowing-over of happiness and anticipation.

I feel like I DO have an adult's sense of that joy. I am truly excited to get up every morning and begin my day. It's always a French press cup of coffee (yay adulthood!) and a fresh pastry from the bakery a block from our place. But I have never, in four years, RUN down the stairs, out the door and all the way to that bakery. Though my excitement for an Almond Bear claw or a Cherry danish is no less now than it was back then. Maybe MORE so since I can go and get one whenever I want and I do not have to ask for it from a parent. : )

I feel super excited to create every day too. To invent the things that I do and ship them out all over the world.  To make up the little stories that go with them and make booklets and maps and all manner of creative outlets that are part of the world I dwell in. . . but I think I can let that joy out a bit more than I do as an adult as well.

And, just yesterday, as I was thinking of all of this, I saw a little girl of maybe 7 or 8 with fairy white-blond hair, picking the first dandelions of the season across the street. Selecting them ever so carefully with her discerning eye and then, bouquet in hand, turning abruptly and running with that same urgency I've been talking about across the park to give them to her mother who was sitting on the bench just 100 feet away.

THAT is the urgency I miss.

Maybe it's harder as adults because we are supposed to have our emotions in check. To maintain that cool exterior and the idea of keeping it together. But really???  JOY is supposed to be that visible. Excitement for what we are doing should come with such outward expression.

So I will be running to the bakery at least once this week. And unashamedly beaming at the job I am blessed to be able to do here. And maybe, just maybe, more of these little facets of the joy of the inner 9 year old will be revealed?

Do you have any you'd care to share? Please feel free, I am all ears. . .

nicolas

And just one new thing to share. . .
Another HO Scale Fairy House. . . I rediscovered the word "Chantry" while researching ideas for this cottage. I think, if fairies were to borrow from our old-world architecture, stone and belfry bells and heavy wooden doors would be musts!

Tuesday, March 1, 2016

New Work - March 1st

Ohhhh February was quite a month of exploration and decision making for my creative self.

I think that I am realizing more with each passing day that I have to just accept that choices need to be made if I want to be happy with where my work is going. The number of projects tugging at my heart (those yet to be realized most of all) makes it hard to focus on the "shoulds". . . so I am trying to give myself the freedom to work on several new ideas a month. Then there are redesigns, revisiting old favorites again etc etc. . . oh the to-do list. . .

February was a month where I took it upon myself to really attack that list and, while it caused a bit of apprehension in my "responsible, money making self", in the end the month was quite good all the way around.

In addition to what you see below, I will post, in a day or two, my first art doll that I think really captures the essence of what I want to make happen with them going forward. I worked on it a bit almost every day the last few weeks, giving myself the time to get each detail just so.

 Also a new series of mid-sized statues for Shadow of the Sphinx and some enchanted amulet ideas that I have been developing too!

For now though,  I would like to share some of the new/revamped work!




First, this is a redesign of my old stand alone Mushroom House. It needed an update BADLY!  It's really reassuring to see how your skills have grown over time when you remake an old item all over again!


So, while I was at it, I though "Why not plop one into a little star landscape too"?  
Windmill Updates include wooden planking on the gable's front side. and I returned to painting tiny people again for my scenes. . . I just think it adds so much to the image.

A new Stump Town Fairy house with Mailbox, rooftop mushrooms and trees and, of course, a goose about to take flight!
I love seeing how much I can cram onto one tiny little landscape! This one even has a tin pair of pearly shoes sticking out a knot-hole in the tree in the back!

And making scenes again, like this one, for some of my little houses. Again, the figures add so much and the climbing vines are a new favorite that I just want to put on EVERYTHING! lol
And lastly, a strange little creature. . . the first iteration for an idea for my Bewildering Pine storybook, an Order of monks who are, in essence, descended from Mimes. With strange mind-bending powers like being able to put someone in an invisible box, or behind an invisible wall that you cannot walk thru. Or to make invisible wind. Or levitate by holding invisible balloons. This little guy was based on the Jawas of Star Wars fame but I am working on a larger one with verrrrry long features and flowing, Erte-like robes and a mask. Too much fun!


Well, that's the whole of it for today! More very soon though I promise.

Including another post about pleasing my inner 9 year old. I think I really had a lovely little breakthrough with that idea this week and want to share it!

Thank you, as always, for looking!
xoxo
nicolas


Wednesday, February 10, 2016

The Origin of My Protectors

When I was a child, I had decided that almost any fear, any threat, any possible monster lurking in the darkness could be conquered by following a set of rules to invoke the protection of the something good and greater.

There was a late-night weekend show called Chiller Theater that aired throughout my childhood. It was a double feature (though for a few years it was a TRIPLE feature I believe!)  of old classic and otherwise mostly B grade monster and occult films every Saturday night starting at 11:30pm.

The host of the show, Chilly Bill Cardille, was best known to the world for his role as the news reporter in the original "Night of the Living Dead". ( I also lived quite near the cemetery from that movie and had friends who lived directly across the street from it. . . such fodder for over-active, young imaginations!!!)

The whole production of Chiller Theater was a real camp-affair! In-studio skits between commercial breaks and films took place on a castle inspired set and included Cardille as well as a host of characters with names like like Terminal Stare, Georgette the Fudgemaker and Stefan the Castle Prankster. 

But even with the levity of those breaks, the movies were often quite scary to me (as with all the classic Karloff, Lugosi, Price films!)  So began the practice of pulling myself fully up on the reclining chair in the dim, flickering tv light and covering myself with one of my grandmother's hand crocheted afghans. In my mind, as long as all my extremities were covered completely, I was safe.

On occasion, like getting a snack in the kitchen during a commercial break, or in the heat of summer, I needed more active safety measures. What I concocted was a series of little internal "tests" which, if passed, allowed me the same measure of safety outside of the protective afghans. 

These tests were things like; holding my breath through a commercial break, staring at a digital clock til it changed the minutes, having my snack and being back in my chair by the movie's return, and sometimes I just repeated certain phrases in my head when moving from one chair to a couch or to the kitchen or to my bedroom. Those are too silly to repeat here but they were all for the result of an invoked protection.

Basically, little, internal talismans and rituals.

And those old movies were really the least of my fears. There were even scarier "modern" horror shows like Night Gallery or Sixth Sense. My childhood bedroom, ages 4 thru 11 was a frightful place. Nightmares, pitch black darkness, strange things. . . too many to mention. But my grandparents house where I spent most of my time while my mother worked and where we lived from 11 yrs old onward was nothing of the sort. It was the epitome of the word "sanctuary". And, despite and/or due to the extraordinary circumstances of several life changing events that happened there thru the years of my childhood, my belief in the unseen and protective, grew and never wavered. 

So it should be no wonder that upon reading and learning about the pantheon of ancient Egypt somewhere around the age of 11, I immediately took up the idea of amulets, protective symbols,  animal deities and rituals! That's a love that continues to this day and never loses interest for me.

My crafty kid-self went mad for the little amulets and statues. I spent countless hours at the library researching anything I could find about the pyramids and ancient civilizations, one leading to another and so on.  So there was that, coupled with my already strong belief in the unseen and "other" worlds of the fae and the such. All of it making a very strong impression that formed the foundation of so much in those early years

It's why, all these years later, after so many years of struggling so intensely to find my creative place in the world, I have come to create items like these: 



Now, of course, between ancient deities and fairy inspired works, I feel like I am sending these little protective creations into the world for others to invest themselves in. I cannot imagine anything more pleasing than to be putting so much of my early self into what I do as an adult and sharing it. 

It keeps those days and beginnings close and reminds me of them constantly.  The good and the bad. But mostly good. 

I often think of those days now, building blanket forts, cardboard space ships, tree-houses and crows nests, invoking protective measures in my internal world in countless ways. Childhood is, after all, a very uncertain and overwhelming place. I am so grateful to have had so many outlets then. . . 

It's always interesting to follow the thread that runs from the very beginning of things. To see where the here and now came from and to  understand, for myself at least, that the journey is a constant. So all of it matters. Especially those little details. . . especially now.


Thank for reading and for sharing in this journey, and this inner world, with me. :)

nicolas


PS: I find it very amusing that upon searching the internet for Chiller Theater, I came across a site that lists every weekly showing over 20+ years and the films that were played for each and every Saturday night from the beginning! Are you kidding me?  Man I love the internet!