Here I am

So here I am, working steadily on my march-piece that is branching out to a level I hadn't expected and hesitantly starting thinking on my april piece, while april is already halfway gone! While pondering about what april means to me immediately our national holiday Koninginnedag came to mind. A tradition that started when our late Queen Juliana was crowned, for her birthday was april 30th. After she resigned and our current Queen Beatrix took over her reign she pronounced that april 30th would stay a national holiday in honor of her mother. So for as long as I have lived, april 30th was a very festive day.

The Dutch national color is orange, because our royal family is of the House of Orange-Nassau. Personally I don't care at all for the color orange, so I decided to find a way around using this color. (Note that my april piece has not one bead on it yet!) Staying in line with my wanting to make a Dutch piece, I thought of another well know Dutch thing: Delfts Blauw. Anyone who has ever visited the Netherlands will have seen the little blue and white souvenirs of windmills, clogs, and a sweet girl&boy kissing. I do like this color-combination because of it's simplicity and it's great variation in hues.

Next I also realized that I did not want to make another solidly bead beaded piece, as my march piece is turning out. Not that I don't like it, but is more work then I ever phantomed. I wanted to do something with two layers of felt and realized that I have a handwork encyclopedia with a vast amount of crafts explained in detail. While just browsing the pages I stumbled upon a Hungarian technique of sewing two layers of felt togehter and then cutting out shapes that were outlined in the sewing. I have tried to find an online example of this technique, but haven't been able to.

So here I am, with my april piece taking shape in my mind, and nothing to show for it. It is growing in the shade of my march tree waiting to get a chance...

Climb a tree - it gets you closer to heaven.
Author Unknown

On ordinary life

When reading my posts, you could easily get the impression that my life consists of thinking through deep thoughts about music, beading and beading materials, browsing the www to find nice videos to illustrate my points or just for sharing beautifull things, educating about Dutch custom and history... It raises the question: do I have an ordinary life? The answer is as obvious as easy: Yes, of course I do. So today I am going to give you a sneak view into my ordinary life, which is as much a work-in-progress as my beading.

Take the previous weekend for example:

my youngest (a 5 year old boy) had the pleasure to be invited to a friends birthdayparty friday-afternoon. When he came back around 4 PM we were told that the birthday-boy himself had been sick all through the party. This could mean two things: either he had been so anxious about his first birthdayparty that he purged all the tension out of his system when it finally arrived... OR, there was a nasty virus going around and we would be hearing more from it this weekend. Need I say more? On saturday my boy got sick, and sunday-night his sister joined him. Today is monday and both stayed home from school, my sweet husband being the designated WAHD for the day.

As the wheather forecasts were not inviting us to spent a day outdoor, we had planned to play games and bake cookies. Instead I spent my saturday emptying a bowl every so often, trying not to breathe through the nose. Comforting a very upset preschooler and trying to get his sister to find something to do for herself. On sunday I decided to do the ironing I had been needing to get done for over a week now and then mend some stuff as that had been needing to be done for over months! So, I sewed loops back on bathrobes, buttons back on trousers, mended holes in jeans with nice aplications, and became the Doc at service for many stuffed animal and doll... I am not the perfect housewife. I do like a clean and tidy house, but hate the work it takes.

Still, I will try to use this "ordinary" life of mine as inspiration for the journal pages I am going to create the next 12 months for the Bead Journal Project. A journal is like a diary, except it is less frequent.  The Wikepedia even states that they are the same, but a diary is a personal journal. I don't mind so much, I just want to try and make something nice and in the meantime enjoy life because it is mine. And I don't say this lightly. Why not? Told you I was only going to give you a sneak view into my life. Maybe next time, but in the meanwhile: just remember that getting too comfortable is never a wise thing to do.

Old traditions die hard (part II)

Saturday-afternoon I went shopping with my oldest (a 10 year old girl) for gifts. As I wanted her to really think about the people she was picking out presents for (her grandparents, dad and brother), I didn't tell her what to choose. I just took her to the Wereldwinkel (a fair trade shop, the link is to a Dutch site) and told her to think about these people. It was amazing at how easy she came up with nice, loving gifts for all of them and while she normally is very indecisive she was now done in a sec. This shows my point in part I of this story of how important it is to look for something that is needed and not merely wanted. What my daughter did was pick out things that reminded her of what she knew others loved doing or that she wanted to share her feelings about. (At one point I had to leave the store, because she also wanted to find a gift for me, I cannot wait until I can unwrap this little piece of her love and attention.)

Later the same afternoon we spent some time working on what we call a "surprise". This is not merely a surprise in the litteral sense, you could compare it to a piñata. She has to make one for the celebration at school but it is a tradition mostly among grown-ups as they don´t believe in Sinterklaas anymore. It all starts with drawing a name out of a bowl and buying a present for that person. Then you make a gift-wrap that symbolizes something that has been important for that person over the past year. This can be something funny, something wonderful... Anything will work that can be cast in some form or other. Usually this asks some craftiness of the person, so the making is as much fun as the unwrapping on Sinterklaasavond. To finish up the whole is wrapped in giftpaper and a special poem is made and stuck to the gift. Now what relates this tradition to the Saint we met earlier?

In early human history Europe was home to amongst others the Germanic peoples. There was no monotheistic God in their presence and their beliefs were highly dependent on natural phenomena as lighting and thunder, and on perceptions of for example the sun- and mooncycles. They left behind an oral tradition that shows a very high level of culturalization and has profoundly influenced our lives till today. In a lot of ways the traditions and rituals around Sinterklaas are not only linked back to the Saint, but also to one of the main God's in the Germanic pantheon: Wodan.

Wodan was represented riding an eight-legged horse, wearing a hat and robe, carrying a lance and mostly accompanied by two raven, called Huginn and Muninn  (Old Norse for thought and memory).  These raven travelled between the worlds of gods and men, conveying stories of how mankind was behaving upon which the gods could choose to interfere. In the days of winter, when thunderstorms and lightning, rain and snow made work outside impossible I imagine men, women and children all gathered to tell stories of how their god Wodan was riding the clouds judging men who would be worthy and brave enough to sit beside him in his great hall Walhalla. Furthermore they would probably recite epic poems, one of which tells of how Wodan received the Runes during a rite that lasted nine nights, in which he hung upside down from a tree. During these winternights they would also feast, eat and drink together. They would make a lot of noise to scare the ghosts that roam the dark nights, they would celebrate the turn of the year and the return of light at their Yule festival.

The common components in these historic roots of Western European cultural heritage and that of the Eastern European cult of Saint Nicholas are quite obvious. It is easy to see that after christianity had concurred Western Europe, the bearded God was readily transformed into a Saint with a miter, staff and robe, riding on a horse. The knowledge of all men was transformed in the celebration of Sinterklaas to a book of knowledge in which all doings - right and wrong - over the past year were accounted for. This knowledge being gathered by Sinterklaas and his aid Zwarte Piet (black peter). Because even then the rule "old habits die hard" applied, a lot of age-old customs where woven into the christian version of the festivities. Often, simply to make the people more susceptible to conversion. Even in the late 1800's Dutch city councils tried to ban Sinterklaasfestivities because they were too papistic. They didn't succeed, the traditions are too ingrained in our Calvinistic society to ever loose ground.

So back to making a surprise, because here again it is imperative that you somehow know the person whose ballot you drew. Like I  mentioned earlier, an important event in this persons life over the past year is most likely to be adressed. Like the ravens told Wodan and Zwarte Piet tells Sinterklaas of your whereabouts. This does not mean that it has to be all very serious or reproachful. Even though there are still parents who frighten children with a Sinterklaas that will punish them if they don't behave, it is an occassion par excellence to bring some humour into play! With a rhyming verse to accompany the gift we usually laugh a great deal. It softens harsh reality and deepens a sense of belonging and sharing. That is why our indigenous Sinterklaas is so dear to me and I wouldn't trade it for a 1000 Santa's in the world!

I have only 3 nights left till Sinterklaasavond, so off I am to write my poems and wrap some gifts!

Old traditions die hard (part I)

It is that time of year again, the greatest friend of all children is coming to town... Sinterklaas. Why are we all so excited and who is this bloke with his long beard, all dressed to impress and why are we full of anticipation about it? Today I want to share an age-old tradition with you, that bares a lot of resemblance to Santa Claus. In fact, our Sinterklaas is his predecessor.

It all started about 1800 years ago when a little boy was born into a wealthy family, was orphaned at a young age, became a priest and later in life a bishop in  Myra. Many legends are told of him, starting from his birth. They all have a great compassion and generosity towards others in common and a great will to live a spiritual life. Although no one knows exactly when he was born or died, it is an accepted fact that he died on december 6th sometime during the 4th century in Myra where he was burried. Later on his bones were stolen from the original tomb and relocated to Bari in Italy where a huge crypt and ditto cathedral were built.

As with any Saint, there are lots and lots of stories told about Nicholas, but two of them lead up to why he is seen as a protector of children and giftgiver. The first of the most widely known legends is that of the 3 children or students murdered by an innkeeper and put in a pickling tub. When somehow Nicholas gets hold of the meat, he brings the boys back to life. Another story tells of a widower with 3 daughters for whom he can't afford a dowry. In those days, this meant that it was impossible for the women to marry and they would probably end up slaves or prostitutes. When Nicholas hears of this, he secretly throws 3 pieces of gold through the open window on seperate occasions, thus providing the dowry and saving the life and honour of the young women.

These are the most important ingredients for the main festivities: Sinterklaasavond or Pakjesavond. On the eve of december 6th Sinterklaas visits our homes with his helpers and brings us presents. Some of which have not changed over de years and still remind us of the ancient stories, for example:  chocolate coins, wrapped in gold or silver foil as a reminder of the dowries or a large, gingerbread man reminding us of the students he brought back to life or the possibility of a good marriage candidate. As was the case with the coins he provided for the girls' dowries, he is usually not seen, but simply leaves a huge sack of gifts on the doorstep.

But the tradition doesn't apply only to the evening of december 5th. There is a building up to that moment, full of anticipation. To understand this, you must know one more important story of how Nicholas once rescued his ship from a heavy storm when traveling from the holy land back to his home after making a pilgrimage. By praying he was able - or so it is told - to calm the waves and let the winds subside thus saving not only his own life, but that of the crew as well. This made him the patron of sailors and voyagers.

Every year in late november, as the Pakjesboot - the steamboat - arrives in a harbour somewhere in the Netherlands it marks the start of a festive season. Sinterklaas is everywhere: in every store, home or school. Everywhere you can hear the childrens' songs that are only sung during this season. Also, another tradition starts on this day: children putting a shoe in front of the fireplace or the doorstep (most houses lacking a fireplace nowadays, this is a practical solution). It is believed that at night, Sinterklaas roams the roofs of our homes mounted on his horse, assisted by one of his helpers. The children usually put an apple, carrot or some hay in their shoes for the horse to eat, which is then exchanged by a small gift. This custom might have something to do with the legend of the dowries, as some versions state that the coins landed in the shoes of the girls that were set in front of the fireplace to dry.

Today our season has started, he has arrived and all are filled with joy and anticipation. So far I have just talked about the history of the feast. But there is so much more to say about the inner meaning of this time of year and its relation to the upcoming christmas season. This post would become way to long if I wrote about these aspects too. Let me close by saying that to me, the most beautifull aspect, and the purpose of the giftgiving, is the fact that it is a challenge to find gifts that meet the needs - not merely the wants - of others. I believe, that when you are forced to really connect to one another, to find out each others needs, you are doing justice to yourself, the other and a higher cause. This connecting is what makes this season so festive, warm and loving.

A gift consists not in what is done or given, but in the intention of the giver or doer.

Lucius Annaeus Seneca (4 BC-65) Roman philosopher and playwright.

Where am I from?

I have told you a bit about my home in my post Where am I? This post was mostly about the country I live in, but didn't adress anything personal. Today I want to tell you a little bit about where and when the seeds of my creativity were planted and how they were thriving at times and wilting at others.

Before I could even hold a spoon, my education and upbringing as a music-lover started. My mum claims she sang nursery rhymes for me even before I was born. I cannot recollect, so I have to take her word for it. If you see my efforts in the picture here, she must be right. I was about 4 years old and seem to be reading the words of the back of the album cover, but that's only to impress. In fact I could not read a word yet. I knew the songs by heart though, this (christmas)album being one of my favorites, or so I was told.

If you have read my previous posts, you might have guessed already I am a great lover of classical music, and that love has never ceased. At about the age of 6 my parents took me to a classical concert. Of course I don't know what was played but it is our family history that from that day on I wanted to be a musician. Not just any instrument was good enough, no I was very persistent about wanting to play the harp.

Not so lucky me found Rules & Regulations on her way that stated that any child wanting to learn to play an instrument had to have had 2 years of prior, general music lessons in order to learn how to read notes, sing, play the recorder and develop a feeling for rythm. So by the time I was 8 I enrolled and learned all that. Then I first learned how to play the piano to start my harp lessons at the age of 11. See? I told you I was persistent!

In total I played the piano and harp for about 7 years and then went off to college, but not to become a musician. I just wanted to enjoy making music and didn't feel the drive and ambition I would have needed to become one. Why would I want to be better? Still, creativity and art to me are not about competition, but about sharing what is dear to me and close to my heart. After a couple of years I missed my music an was lucky enough to be able to pick up piano lessons once again for another 7 years.

As any other kid I loved to draw and paint, though music has always been my number No 1. There is hardly any handcraft in the world that I haven't been able to try out. My mum being a very curious person in nature wanted to try out different techniques for herself and shared them with me and my 2 younger sisters. The amazing thing is that in my family we al have a "creative coming out" of sorts, after the age of 40. My mum started a career as a painter after that age, my dad's mom started making bobbin lace after my granddad retired, who himself picked up painting at that time, and I only remember my mom's mum busy with crocheting or knitting. The only one that started earlier in life I assume is my grandfather that I never knew. He is said to have been a gifted amateur piano player. It is sad that I have never had a chance to listen to him play, but he somehow  must have passed on his love ...

So in addition to making music, I learned how to knit, crochet, weave on a loom, spin, make bobbin lace, do thread embroidery, sew... Not that I know how to do all those things these days, nor that I am an expert at any of them. The richness is in the fact that I have at one time or another been able to try so vastly different skills and find out what I liked most: working with thread and fabrics. Not on a machine, but with my bare hands, feeling the touch of the cloth, seeing the work grow before my eyes, living the thoughts and emotions it brings up.

When my life was on the drawingboard, a great love for arts must have been etched into my soul. I really cannot imagine a life without music or some kind of craft. Due to hearing problems I am now no longer able to enjoy making music, but still have not lost the joy of listening. On my search for new experiences I stumbled upon beading and bead embroidery last year. My heart leaped for joy and I have felt drawn to it ever since I saw Robin Atkin's beadwork and the Bead Journal Project she started in 2007. Now I feel doubly blessed to have tried out so many different crafts, as it will enable me to really find my own voice over the coming year. For I know one thing for sure: I have never felt more alive then at the moments I was creating.

I have often thought the best way to define a man's character would be to seek out the particular mental or moral attitude in which, when it comes upon him, he felt himself most deeply and intensely active and alive. At such moments there is a voice inside which speaks and says: ''This is the real me!''.

William James (1842-1910) American philosopher and psychologist.

Where am I?

A short time ago I received the question to blog about where I live.... Well, to me it's quite simple: I live in a very small village in The Netherlands. A small country on the north coast of the Norhtsea. No, it's not Danmark. No, our capital is not Brussels. No, we don't speak German (as a matter of fact most of us do, a little, but not as our native language.) 

So now that a few misunderstandings are out of the way, where do I live?

Ok, this might be too general an indication. But at least you have in incling as to where you would fly into if you came over for a cuppa. Just to give you some statistics, The Netherlands are:

• 41,526 km²  in total
• of which 18% consists of water
• and most of which is under sealevel.
• there are 16,528,699 of us
• our capital is Amsterdam
• our government is seated in The Hague
• and we speak Dutch (which to most foreigners sounds the same as German, but defenitely is not)

If we didn't protect ourselves from al that water, about 40% of our country would disappear, as would the village I live in. The Netherlands would look like the picture on the left.

 But now you still don't know where I live! As I said it is a little village called Kanis, if you want to "fly in" search Kanis, Utrecht with Google Earth and you will almost end up in my backyard. As you will notice it's a very small village, surrounded by lots and lots of farmland. If you have taken a close look at my profile, you will have noticed it says "Kamerik" and not "Kanis". I can tell you why: to the postal service the small place I live in doesn't exist. As far as they are concerned I live in the nearest village, which is called Kamerik, and lies about 1,5 km's south to our village. To make it even more confusing: the community we live in is called Woerden. There is also a little town called Woerden, about 7 km's south.  So how small is a small village and how little is a little town?

• In my village Kanis live about 600 people, that is including the farms surrounding us
• In the community of Woerden there are 48,395 people in total, of which 33,927 actually live in the city

To give you a comparison:

• Amsterdam is our largest city that harbours 1,36 million people including those living in the suburbs
• New York is the largest city in the United States and has over 8,36 million inhabitants

So now you know where I am. I hope you enjoyed your short visit in my small country. It's nice out here, so you're welcome to visit an find out more about those clogwearing, tulipminded people under the winds of the Nothsea. As long as you never forget:

"Home is where the heart is."