Hello all! I’m Ellen, a creative who likes to write, draw (sometimes), take photos, and make quilts.
Writing. I decided when I was six that I wanted to be a writer. I had recently learned to read and I was transported by books. I wanted to be a person who wrote books that other people would want to read. Well, I never did write the Great American Novel, but I did get published.
I worked for several years in the 90s as a freelance writer, copyeditor, and proofreader for Gale Research (now Cengage Learning, Encyclopedia.com, etc.), which was based in Detroit and then the second largest reference publisher in the US. A friend from grad school connected me with one of their editors, and I wrote mostly pocket biographies for inclusion in reference books like Native American Tribes, Dictionary of Hispanic Biography, Contemporary Black Biography, and Women in World History.
It was and remains a big thrill to see my name in print. I have also had articles published in McCall’s Quilting and Quilter’s Home Magazine. Hands down, the greatest job I have ever had.
I have written poetry since high school, through college, and off and on over the years. Some of these have been published in college literary magazines. For me, my poems are not just expression, but their art comes from what they look like on a page, not what they sound like. I’ve never been into poetry readings or poetry slams because of this. It’s the words, the combination of the words, their placement on a page. It’s very much a visual art for me.
Photography. I got my first camera (a Kodak Instamatic) in high school and began taking pictures of things that I seemed to see from different perspectives than others did. I eventually graduated to a 35mm camera, and now I’m back to the camera in my phone. I really enjoy finding beauty in ordinary things that others probably overlook, often what is on the ground in front of me. I don’t rearrange or reposition what’s there, I just take the picture. I call these my Detritus photos.
Modern ruins are another source of fascination for me: falling-down barns and outbuildings, leaning mailboxes. The old, the unloved, the neglected. I don’t really do anything with these photos aside from posting them on Facebook or putting them into calendars.
QUILTING. My primary creative outlet, at this stage of my life, is quilting. I started making quilts about thirty years ago, kind of on a whim. While my mother was an excellent seamstress and made most of my clothes when I was a child, she was not a quilter. And I was not into sewing. I had to do some sewing in a junior high Home Ec module and I just loathed it.
So when I decided I should make a quilt back in 1997 or so, I had to make it entirely by hand because I didn’t own a sewing machine. And I wasn’t about to buy one if I wasn’t going to continue to make more quilts. I made maybe six quilt tops and actually finished three of them by hand quilting them, and by that point I was hooked … and really, really tired of the hand-sewing thing. So I bought a machine and joined a quilt guild.
I used to keep track of the quilts I made, but that fell by the wayside some time ago. I think I’ve made in the neighborhood of 500 quilts. Most of these have been given away to family and friends, and when I got into the guild, I discovered philanthropy. For the last eight years I have been one of the co-chairs of the philanthropy program of Valley of the Mist Quilters Guild in Temecula, CA. We make and donate quilts to foster kids, women and children at a local domestic violence shelter, as well as veterans.
My primary focus is to make twin-size bed quilts for the formerly homeless veterans who have been taken in by US Vets.org, a national nonprofit. US Vets talks to homeless vets and, if they’re willing, brings them in off the streets, gets them connected with the VA and medical and psychiatric attention, and houses them. Eventually they get jobs and move back into the world.
The local US Vets operation is called Veterans Village, and is located on the grounds of March Air Reserve Base in Moreno Valley, CA. The vets’ beds are nothing fancy—twin beds. We make twin size quilts for their beds. I personally make about 20 quilts each year for philanthropy. I rarely ever know who got one of my quilts, but I’ve been told that these quilts mean a lot to the guys who receive them, and that’s all the motivation I need.
Most quilt guilds do some kind of charitable work. Personally, I don’t like the word “charity,” primarily because so many quilters use it carelessly. That carelessness is usually evident by the words “just for” preceding it. As in, “This fabric isn’t great, but it’ll be okay because it’s just for charity.” That means leftovers, afterthoughts, whatever. And this approach, to me, is wrong.
People who find themselves on the receiving end of charity typically don’t want to be there. I think we can assume that the charity recipient is probably at one of the lowest points in his or her life. To give a person a quilt of poor-quality materials, or poor construction, or ugly fabric is to add insult to injury.
Between foster kids and homeless vets and people struggling in the aftermath of natural disasters, there’s really an endless need for donated quilts. In other words, unless the arthritis in my hands gets too bad … I don’t see myself stopping !
BEGINNING NOTE FROM JAN ~ This month's guest blogger is Fabian Gilchrist. I met Fabian when I visited with a local book club (thanks for inviting me, Peggy Ashley!). We connected by email, and when she realized she knew my favorite husband from the Y, she invited us to dinner. What a treat, seeing their lovely home and touring the amazing art-filled home studio she shares with her husband and fellow-creative, Jim Gilchrist. After a bit of arm-twisting, Fabian agreed to share scenes from the fascinating artistic journey they’ve shared through their many years together. I hope you’ll enjoy reading her post as much as I have.
Cheers ~ Jan
AND NOW, HERE'S FABIAN'S STORY ... IN HER OWN WORDS:
When asked the question, “What’s it like when two people who are married are both creative?” I had to pause. I’d never thought in those terms about my 56-year relationship with my husband before. We had long found our respective ‘talents’ or ‘hobbies’ early in our marriage. Being an art major in school, I thought the graphic arts were where my creative juices lay. I had learned the ‘domestic arts’ and found them to be to my liking, whereas my young man strove to find a career that gave him a chance to highlight his natural talent of persuasion. He had the art of garnering trust in people and following it up with the hard work of making that trust work to get the results he wanted. Both different, both effective.
Fast forward through several jobs that highlighted some of our talents … and some that just paid our bills through our building years. Some years were very exciting, like leaving our home in Georgia and moving to Colorado. Other years were just work, but we never lost track of activities that would give us a creative outlet.
In Colorado, Jim found that woodworking and building small furniture items brought him pleasure. I dabbled in turning aspen limbs into candlesticks with a modicum of success. I also made quilts and Western-style shirts for people, and those brought in a little money on the side. The glory days of craft shows were alive and well, and homemade needlework, candle craft, and various wooden gifts for family and friends filled our time.
As we both continued in our respective careers, our creative time suffered like most people who find that life gets in the way of doing everything you would like while building a future, which, hopefully, will assure more creative time again down the road. So, we buckled down with our basics, with him selling for various companies and eventually starting our own company, and me becoming a graphic artist/typesetter for a printing company. These were natural for us and paid the bills. But there was more in store for us. I moved on to get a degree in Church Business Administration, which gave me latitude to use a whole lot of my creativity within the church that employed me. He went to an Episcopal seminary and into the priesthood—a complete 180 degrees from where we began, but fulfilling.
Another fast forward … to retirement. The joy that we found in our careers enriched our lives in ways that we could never have imagined. And underlying those lives was the very creativity that sparked our interest in the paths we took. As we navigated the loss of parents and the move back to Georgia (during the pandemic), we found ourselves back in a place that had changed in the 45 years since we’d left. Not many soft Southern accents anymore, thanks to television and travel. Plus, living near a huge city proved a traffic nightmare that we hadn’t known much in Colorado.
We also found that we both needed to find our creative side in this new environment. At first, it was easy. We had purchased a home that needed a bit more than the tender loving care we thought we’d have to give it. It is still a work-in-progress, and we continue to take great strides to make it our own with some corrections and replacements along the way.
As time allowed, we took our creativity more seriously. He found an art instructor who has given him the guidance he needed to spread his art wings and fly into some of the local galleries and even sell some of his work.
I have found pleasure in decorating our home and even branched into designing a landscaped patio for our backyard which we enjoy often.
Flower arranging and entertaining has become a delightful pastime, and we have availed ourselves of the local museums and galleries to find inspiration and a whole new group of artist friends, who also provide much encouragement and inspiration.
We have found over the years that our interests, though not always in the same genre, have provided us with a colorful tapestry of art craft. Our home features both our own pieces and the productions of people we have met along the way. We appreciate how they’ve used the arts to express their outlook on the world and provide meaning and delight to those who appreciate their good works.
As our paths crisscross with the people who have added richness to our lives, I find an incredible piece of tartan plaid with abundant colors that brings a cohesiveness and meaning to our lives in retirement.
So … what’s the creative atmosphere like living and working in the same place? Sometimes challenging, particularly when two people want to use the same tools, paint, or lawn equipment, or when plans change to accommodate a class or reception at a gallery. But we never experience a mean-spirited sense of competition, only support. It has been such a gift to grow into our talents and see our pleasures come to fruition after a life of hard work to get us to this place in time. I suppose it’s about the same as any other couple who have found their life partner and grown into the fullness of their lives together.
What a blessing this journey with my fellow creative has been!
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ENDNOTE FROM JAN ~ Next month’s creativity post will feature Ellen Dennis French, who will share some of the amazing quilts and nature photos she’s created through the years.
If you’ve already signed up to be part of my community (thank you!), you’ll receive next month’s post direct to your e-mailbox. If you haven't yet joined my community, you can do it now by visiting my website or my profile/linktree tab on Facebook or Instagram. What's in it for you? A blog post celebrating creativity straight to your e-mailbox each month, as well as an e-newsletter chock full of book news and reviews and other surprises (e.g., recipes, game and movie recs, a chance to win bookish giveaways, and more).
As always, thank you for reading!
Updated: Jan 23
FOR STARTERS, A NOTE FROM JAN ~ This month's guest blogger is Charlene (Charli) Gordon. I met Charli on a cruise last fall and was intrigued when she told me how she helped a woman with Alzheimer’s continue to paint, even when she was no longer able to manipulate a paint brush. Charli agreed to share a little about the winding path of her creative journey, and I'm glad she did. I hope you’ll enjoy reading her post as much as I have.
AND NOW, FINDING MY CREATIVE VOICE WITH CHARLI GORDON ~ The journey of an artist is rarely straightforward. It’s a winding path filled with moments of inspiration, self-doubt, and sometimes, long pauses where the brush lies untouched. Here, I delve into my personal artistic journey, sharing the highs, the lows, and all the times I stepped away from creating.
My love for art began at a very early age. Like most children crayons, markers, pens and anything that would make a mark were my tools for expressing my feelings and emotions. Simple sketches became doodles that evolved into an exploration of creativity that have profoundly shaped my identity over the years. It wasn’t long before I realized art was more than just a hobby.
With everything in life, there are challenges and turning points along our journey. When I was 16, a severe horse accident confined me to bed, giving me plenty of time to reflect and invent. My mind was overflowing with ideas along with frustration. I needed to use my hands to release the thoughts and ideas. With a pen and a notebook on my bedstand, I scribbled and doodled. Draw Me were little notices for art instruction scholarships that ran in magazines and newspapers. Draw the picture and submit for a chance for a scholarship in an art school. I just wanted to draw. But my mother chose to send these drawings in.
I was soon enrolled in the correspondence school. My journey of discovery was set on fire. I began to discover how to put those images and emotions down on paper and well, anything I could. Returning to school the last part of my junior year, I submitted a design for the junior senior prom. The theme was “Beyond the Yellow Brick Road,” a popular Elton John song in 1974. I submitted my idea of the inside walls of the Emerald City of Oz to be drawn on twenty 30 x 12 ft paper murals. My submission was accepted.
This became a moment of discovery for me. I wasn’t drawing small, I was drawing big. My whole mind and body worked in the creation of these murals. It was as though I was living in each one.
Life is seldom a linear journey. After graduating from high school, my only thoughts went to getting out of the small town and seeing and experiencing bigger things. Along with this came a time when the wellspring of creativity seemed to dry up. As I grew older, the demands of life began to encroach on my creative time. School, extracurricular activities, and the pressure to excel academically pushed art to the sidelines. During this period, my canvases collected dust, and my sketchbooks remained closed.
With the birth of my first child, my focus was on creating a path for a better life for her. I headed to college pursuing a business degree. All was going well, or so I told myself. Somehow, I felt frustration as though a piece of me was missing. I realized my creativity had hit the wall. I had walked away from my dreams. So now I began the struggle, attempting to force the art to emerge, believing that sheer will could conquer the paralysis of creativity that had grown within me.
I had to find a way to come back. Even if it meant starting it all over again. I needed an extra credit in my class schedule, and I found an art class that fit in my busy life as a student, mother and secretary. The class added layers to my understanding of artistry, ultimately guiding me toward fresh techniques and concepts.
My instructor approached me concerning a submission I made for a Juried showing. She told me that my work in realism showed much inspiration and ability. “But you have a gift for more landscape style work,” she said. “I want to introduce you to someone in the theatre. They are looking for an apprentice to assist in painting backdrops for their theatrical productions.” Soon I was painting backdrops for several local theaters.
This was it. The one thing that always held the most time in my memories and thoughts was creating those 30 ft. murals in high school. I had to paint big. I had to put my whole mind and body into the creation of my art.
As my passion grew, so did my self-doubt. A major bump in my journey came when I started to compare myself to the more experienced artists I was working with. I questioned my abilities and often felt like an imposter. This period was filled with frustration and a sense of inadequacy. However, it was also a turning point, and I learned from it.
Amidst the struggles, I discovered the importance of finding my unique artistic voice. My art had been about realism, and I needed to find a freedom to experiment without boundaries.
During COVID quarantine, I began taking abstract painting courses online. The freedom to experiment without boundaries helped me break free from the constraints of comparison. I started to embrace my imperfections and view them as part of my artistic identity. This shift in perspective was liberating and allowed me to create more authentically. During this time, I turned sixty-three and decided I would retire.
That didn’t last long. With the suggestion and encouragement of a friend, I became a caregiver for seniors with Alzheimer’s. Working with Alzheimer’s individuals can be both challenging and rewarding. One effective way to engage them and enhance their quality of life is through art.
With this new journey, I soon met and began working with a lady in fairly early stages. I’ll call her Lizzy. We had an immediate bond and many wonderful conversations in the first couple of years. I was always searching for new ways to stimulate her mind and body. She loved art but said she couldn’t draw or paint. One day I brought paint and canvas just to have some fun. When we sat down, she said she didn’t want to paint. “That’s okay, Lizzy,” I told her, “we are going to put some paint on here and just see what happens.” I poured the paint and then put a small chain in her hand. I assisted her in pulling paint on the canvas with the chain to form a flower. When I told her that’s all we needed to do and we could stop, she responded with a resolute NO! We finished that canvas. And another.
As my journey with Lizzy continued, we completed several paintings. But as her Alzheimer’s progressed, she was unable to hold even the large handle brushes I brought.
But her joy for painting remained. I was running out of ideas. One day I was blowing up balloons for a party and found myself holding a partially filled balloon in the palm of my hand. And the idea was right there. Lizzy and I sat down to paint and this time, I poured paint on the canvas and put the small balloon in her hand. I helped her touch the balloon to the canvas. She began moving the balloon back and forth. Soon the most amazing abstract sunset appeared. Lizzy said, “I’m not a painter.” However, one of her paintings sold for $1,000 at an Alzheimer’s annual art auction.
Lizzy taught me so much in my few years with her and inspired me to continue assisting seniors in finding their inner artist and creativity. Moreover, the passing of time has a miraculous way of providing clarity. I’ve come to embrace the idea that creative blocks are not a deficiency but an essential part of the artistic process. They challenge us to rethink, reimagine and rediscover our innate motivation. Time nurtures this cyclical nature of creativity, inviting us to trust in the process and listen deeply to the stories we wish to tell.
ENDNOTE FROM JAN ~ Charli’s creative journey continues. While she loves doing the “big stuff” like backdrops for plays, she also enjoys creating smaller works like custom cards and paintings. Charli typically blocks her paintings with acrylics and then details them in oil. She also works in inks and watercolor. If you’d like to talk to her more about her creations, you can email her at:
charligordon2015@gmail.com
COMING UP ~ Next month’s post will feature Jim and Fabian Gilchrist, two Valentines who credit creativity as one of the keys to their long-lasting marriage and love story.
If you’ve already signed up to be part of my community (thank you!), you’ll receive February’s post direct to your e-mailbox. If you haven't yet joined my community, you can do it now by visiting my website or my profile/linktree tab on Facebook or Instagram.
What's in it for you? A blog post celebrating creativity straight to your e-mailbox each month, as well as an e-newsletter chock full of book news and reviews and other surprises (e.g., recipes, game and movie recs, a chance to win bookish giveaways, and more).
As always, thank you for reading!
Cheers ~ Jan
