February 2018 – Memorial Vessel

The start to this year has been very inspiring, despite the extreme cold and snow we’ve been having up North! January was bright and motivating on a creative level; I welcomed in some fresh ideas for 2018. As many of you makers may know all too well, new ideas don’t always come easily when your mind is busy or cluttered. So it is a real treat to embrace a quieter time to allow the creative juices to free flow and get them down on paper before they vanish into tiny little imaginative sparks in the universe.

This is my first ever blog post! So please read me gently with an open heart and understanding for my “newness” to the blogging world. It also happens to be one that is very dear to my heart and soul. Two years ago today (Feb 1, 2016) my family lost the leader of our wolf pack – My dad. He fought a brave battle with cancer – a battle I am assuming many of you are unfortunately familiar with. We were in a complete state of shock from this loss and it has taken the past two years to work through the ripple of sorrow, fear, anger, depression, resentment and sadness and allow it to dissipate into a stream of acceptance and understanding for the process of life; and therefore, of death. I am a “do-er” I need to be doing things in order to feel useful and feel creative. Working through this loss has been about keeping myself moving forward doing positive, creative things.

This memorial vessel has been on my mind for over a year now. I wanted to build something special for Dad, a decorative piece that has a purpose (to house the physical remains of a great man), a spiritual vibration, a connection to his personality, and ultimately something he would be proud of. This may seem a little morbid or uncomfortable for some, but through this experience, I have learned that death is just as real and integral to life as living – we will all go someday, yet the sadness lies in our feeling that it is too soon or too sudden for those who are left here on earth to live with only the memory of the person.

Today, I share with you a cathartic project – One that allowed me the time and space to work through what I had not been able to until now. Here are a collection of photos in which I build the last box for my dad – his memorial vessel.