220301 bread road shrine

 Mar. 1

Rocky and I have had our morning walk. A dog, and a human too, I guess, need some physical exercise outside, to be happy through the day, and healthy. A walk calms a dog, tires him and he is content afterwards to relax and enjoy quiet time while you get on with your day. My mental and physical health are improving too, from our daily walks.

We went as far as the corner, today, and past the chicken woman's barns.

*****

The Commission

Near the end of January, Elf asked me to help her make a gift for her friend. A shrine, she wanted, to be a centre for meditating and other spiritual work. She had a handful of "relics" as we came to call them: items she had, or found in second-hand haunts. The challenge to create a shrine, artifact of magic, grabbed me. Elf and I began to consult; she ventured out in covid disguise to search her neighbourhood second-hand market and I searched through my mosaic stock, treasures and jewelry for things to use in the shrine. 

I stopped at a friperie on my way home from Cowansville, where I just knew I would find the right "base" with which to create the shrine. I was picturing a large vase, that I could cut into a grotto shape. There it was, a perfect size and shape, plain black with very little detail, that would transform perfectly into a sort of cave. By the cashier's counter, I was drawn to a stack of three boxes. I picked up the first, I think the idea began to grow then, and I noticed that the third box down had an interesting design. I lifted it up and saw that it was very cool, probably art deco, with a curve at one end. Its hinges were good and there was only regular wear and tear. * Within 24 hours this box had become the receptacle for the shrine. The vase went to my stock-pile, sure to make a good project another time, and I cleaned the box and polished it with my home-made beeswax-and-vegetable-oil wood polish. The magic began. 

Elf and I "zoomed" often, brainstorming ideas, examining our collected relics and materials, and I prepared layouts for consideration. Like a quick-paced dance, the ideas tripped fast into place and I felt ready to begin the making. I made continuous progress, "met" with Elf, and the shrine took shape. The setting finished, it was ready to grout. There were a couple of stressors new to me. One was how important it was that I get this right, for Elf, and for her friend, and the other was having to work through some previously untried challenges. I had to grout around a piece made of silver, and quite a few stones which had a matte finish. I had not attempted to grout unglazed ceramic, stone or silver, which, unlike bathroom tiles, would not so easily clean free of excess grout! It was a brave leap. I also had to work literally "inside the box", its interior eight inches by six, and three inches deep. I had done similar work, so I kept saying to myself, "You did the Cow Clock, you did the Sea Log, you can do this!" 

 

I began the way I begin every grouting: with a blind finish and a teaspoon of trust (I think that trust crystals must be very small and even a teaspoon is a lot.) The blind end is both not knowing how long it will take me, and how it will turn out. I have seen, before, challenging corners and crooks that I have set on a piece of work, and I don't know, as I start grouting, how I am going to get around and through those quirky bits. As an artist and mother, I have learned that projects (and life events) come to an end, sometimes in disappointment and often in delight. You walk through them, or you get on the "airport people-mover" of time and wait, and you get to the other side of the hour,  day, or week. An art project or a halloween costume begins with a concept and ends with something different, once in concrete form, but it can be as amazing as watching (or making!) live music, because it happens, it becomes real in time and space. The jumping-off takes bravery and trust - but I began to see that where one landed was always somewhere on the other side and the outcome was usually good, sometimes wonderful, always over and able to be let go. You learn from a cooking disaster as much as from a success. I did the inside front panel of the shrine box first. I pushed on, inch by inch, (it is exacting to custom-grout each cluster of settings, and not at all like grouting a plain bathroom wall!), until it was, almost suddenly, completed. I spent the next day doing a final cleaning, re-polished the outside of the box and Elf came to pick up the shrine in the evening.

Elf is pleased with the result. It incorporates relics she brought to the table and several trinkets that I was excited to use for such an important project. It has pieces of a broken vase that someone here in the Estrie donated to me, pieces of an antique tea-cup that Elf had loved but broke (life happens), an earring and a charm or two that I had loved and enjoyed, but felt an urge to pass on, some semi-precious crystals that found their home, and throughout the box there are stones from the Estrie, that I have picked up on walks, the shale and glacier-dropped granite fragments that litter the ground, that make these hills. I am very happy with Myra's shrine.

 Here is the box and some details from inside.

*****

For weeks I have wanted to make bread. After my success yesterday with basic white bread, today I want to make sweet dough, perhaps maple rolls, Here is my mother's recipe for sweet dough, written in her own hand.

*****

Rocky and I went for another walk at noon, since he seemed to want to be out and about some more, so we explored again the old road that runs off north from the camp road: no tracks are left, but the clearing remains. We didn't go far because we were treading in eight inches of snow, but the short hike satisfied Rocky for a while, although he is again looking out the window with interest and murmuring small noises. He must see the snow - does that give him angst? Or is he hearing Blackie? He must be able to hear more that I can: his friend barking or the wind in the trees.

 The old road. A skier had been a little way along, before us.

 

We reached a sort of fork: which is the old road?

`Rocky chose the left, the not-taken.

 He broke the way for me.

Yes, it is snowing again! Thank you for visiting. Keep well.

Mumma Yaga

This is the snow "mountain" beside our door. You can see how an avalanche starts: where I threw a shovelful of snow onto the bank, the surface snow broke with the weight.

* Elf was able to trace the box's provenance and we know that it was acquired sometime in the forties or fifties, new or second-hand, by a person who put their name on the bottom.