I watched a powerful film yesterday called Yarn that follows the adventures of the world’s top female fiber artists. I can’t figure out how to embed it so here’s the link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_44B_AwU3gU It was as if, for one hour, I was surrounded by my creative clan, these colorful, outspoken women who weren’t afraid to do amazing and ridiculous things out in the open. One artist commented that public space as we know it has been largely shaped by a masculine consciousness–hard, grey, utilitarian. (Sorry if any of my male readers are offended by that, but you probably won’t be because you’re all feminists. Haha.) Imagine a world that had more feminine energy–color, pattern, softness and warmth. I am craving that INTENSELY right now, especially with the onset of winter’s darkness and rain. Don’t get me wrong, I am not seeking a matriarchy or a cancellation of the masculine, but an equal representation of feminine and masculine qualities in the public square. Attempts to put my soft, colorful, feminine heart out in the world as art has often been misunderstood, ignored or rejected. Not fun, and makes me want to crawl into a hole and read memoirs and chew my fingernails and down cups of tea for the rest of my life. How to tap back into the inner source of creative exuberance when I feel wrung out, heartbroken, and in exile? I have been longing to go to Europe again where I felt the Feminine embracing me as she was embraced. Paintings of Mary dotted every street corner, as did flowers, fountains, voluptuous statuary and circular piazzas. All welcoming passersby to linger and waste time just because Life is sweet and beautiful and deserving to be loved.