We all project an image to the outside world.� The real us, the one who makes mistakes and has insecurities, shows weakness and falls apart, is not the person most people get to see.� Sometimes its hard to imagine a friend, who you� know well, doing a job well or in a professional way, because you can get confused knowing them on a more personal than a professional level.� Of course, not me, because i am smart like that *grins*�� Many friends I have don't know me in a professional capacity.� They see the Michelle who is inconsistant.� Sometimes extremely efficient, sometimes woefully unreliable.� They are then surprised, when they have worked with me on a professional level, that I am in fact quite reliable and efficient a lot of the time.�� What has brought this on today?� I delivered the quilts to a woman who commissioned Mags and myself to make two Queen sized quilts.� The woman is a mutual friend, who sees both Mags and myself in everything but a professional way.� She was surprised that she only waited a month for these quilts.� She said she didnt expect to see them for much longer, if at all.� She finds it impossible to think of Mags and myself as being good at what we do.� She sees the dizzy duo who drink too much and laugh too loud and generally seem to be unpredictable, and thoroughly unreliable. So what exactly was she doing asking us to make quilts for her? was she patronising us? was she humouring us thinking she would never see the end results?� Of course, we had a job to do. Why wouldn't we do it.�� A good friend has the ability to see beyond the person shown to the world. Accept and respect that person but have the good common sense to know that what they are shown is not shown to many people. It's a gift, of trust.� And that the facade, while not being a false facade, is only the safety shell of self.� A friend needs to be able to see that too.� To relate to the facade to maintain the trust of the vulnerable honestly of the relationship. � � � thissisaloadofcrapmichelle � �

My nephew sleeping in a basement room has put a sheet of iron outisde his window to recapture the sound of rain falling on the roof. I do not say to him, The heart has its own comfort for grief. A sheet if iron repairs roofs only.� As yet unhurt by the demand that change and difference never show, he is still able to mend the damages by creating the loved rain-sound he thinks he knew in early childhood. Nor do I say, In the travelling life of loss iron is a burden, that one day he must find within himself in total darkness and silence the iron that will hold not only the lost sound of the rain but the sun, the voices of the dead, and all else that has gone.

I work. I find ways that suit me and on I go. And then some bright spark or two will make a comment or seven, and knock my confidence and I will start to think I have strange work processes. When I painted, years ago, I painted with a group. We were all at different levels, but we gathered to work together and that was nice. When I paint, I use two brushes. One with watercolour on the brush, and one with water, because thats the whole point of watercolour paints, you have to use lots of water with them. And I was going fine, not even thinking about the fact I use two brushes to paint with, when a couple of helpful sparks noted that I was weird. No one else needed to use two brushes. Nothing was ever mentioned in the How To.. books about having one brush in your hand and one in your mouth (whilst not in use) so I must be weird, and I should stop doing that. I became quite self conscious and started "sneaking" the use of the second brush, it was quite rediculous. Then, through a friend of a friend I met and subsequently attended a workshop by Nancy Tichbourne. She is an English/NewZealander, living in Akaroa in the South Island, and paints in the medium of watercolour. She is very successful, and well known here. AND SHE USES TWO BRUSHES TO PAINT WITH. Holy cow, another weirdo like me. mmm maybe... MAYBE.. we aren't weirdos.. maybe.. we just might know what we are doing. And now I make quilts. And I keep notebooks full of ideas for my quilts. I make some of them, I don't make most of them, I don't have a use for any of the quilts I make, and I get looked at sideways, and that *oh my she's a bit strange* look crosses peoples faces. And, of course, I have completely forgotten, or cannot associate the lesson learnt with the paint brushes. So I begin to think of myself as strange, and not quite right, and doubt my ability and dent my confidence and apologise for not making quilts always in a traditional way. Then I meet and listen to Meike Apps for two days. And there we go again. She keeps a notebook. She uses any means or skills at her disposal to achieve the 'look' she wants for her quilts. She expresses herself and doesn't explain one thing. She doesn't feel pressure to finish a work just because she started it. She absorbs skills and perculates them until there is a need within her own work for them. And I realise, maybe, just maybe, I do know what I am doing. I am on the right track. It isn't unusual for some of us to have ideas bubbling around in our brains, knowing they are still 12, 24 or so months from even beginning to come out. This is what being creative is all about. Layers of ideas waiting for skills to accummulate so they can be born. *sniggers* sometimes, I sound deep... but it's all very natural.