Ermintrudes Tree Cosy

There have been a lot of interesting developments in our lives since I posted My Truth the last time.  Quite enormously huge in fact.  All good of course, and rather miraculous.  But I'll tell you about that another time.  

Because I've had a realisation.  

A big part of my creative explosion for many years was having an audience.  When I started to crochet, we were starting a market, and every kooky thing I made had an audience every sunday, where people would come to see what I'd made this week, and I worked hard to impress.  An audience is a huge motivation.  And my audience has dwindled these last years, relegated to the unsuspecting visitor, who I'd drag to my studio to unpack box after box of pretties for to dazzle.  But the ethers connected just the other week, and I realised that I have YOU dear reader!  You who faithfully come to my blog to see what's happening over here, and it may not be in person, but with the wonders of digital technology, I can show you what I'm making over here!  I get to start showing off again.  And to honour that fact, I thought I'd tell you a story.

Ermintrudes Tree Cosy

In late pregnancy with my twins, I entered a group exhibition at a local gallery called Red Poles in Willunga.  It was called 'Unraveled', and part of the criteria, was to get a jumper, pull it apart, and then knit or crochet it into a tea cosy.  I went down to the local op shop, and found a green and white striped jumper, and pulled it apart.  I wish I could find the photo of the original jumper, but for the life of me I can't, so you'll just have to imagine it.  I was thinking of making something fairly ordinary, but not long after it was all pulled apart and neatly in balls........the idea of making a tree struck me.  It almost formed itself, using crochet and wrapped wire, and I just enjoyed the ride.  And when it was done, I thought it was a masterpiece.  And it reminded me very much of the trees that littered the landscape of the 'Magic Roundabout', an animated cartoon I watched as a kid. I had a bit left over, so I made some flowers.  And finished it with barely any yarn left over, as often happens.  And called it Ermintrude's Tree Cosy.  Because Ermintrude was a Friesian cow who ate flowers in the "Magic Roundabout".

And the women running the exhibition were awesome, and they told me to bring everything I had, and had racks for my clothes, and my work looked very gorgeous and professional there.  I had belly dancing outfits, and skirts or ponchos on wrapped wire and wood, and crocheted teddy bears spun from the same fleece as stuffed with, and hats on tripods, and all sorts of stuff that I'd put hours and energy and creativity into.

And it all looked pretty swoosh.  And you know the funniest thing?  See those three wool bags on the wall, stuffed with coloured and raw fleece?  That took me about the least amount of time and creativity of everything I brought there?  That I made initially to use as bags for holding my stash, and then used as stage props.  Guess what.

Those wool bags were the only thing I sold.  For more than I'd ever sold anything, and more than I'd ever asked for a piece of clothing.  And I only had a high price on them, cause I loved them hanging round the house, and didn't really want to part with them.  The irony just cracked me up.  And poor old Ermintrudes Tree Cosy went largely unnoticed.  Hanging out on various surfaces in the houses we lived, and then stuffed on top of my mothers bookshelf.  We liberated it on our recent visit to S.A., and brought it home.  

Till a day not very long ago, when it was sitting primly on our table, minding its own business, when Currawongs drum beats drew two darling women up the hill to our house.  One of them, stunning Yollana, noticed it straight away, on her way out to the drumming, and when I told her it was a tea cosy, she said, "No it's not, it's a hat!" And proceeded to laugh, and twirl, and giggle, and chortle her way out to the drummer and our other guests.......wearing it on her head.  Also happening to be in the completely perfect outfit to compliment the colours of Ermintrudes Tree Cosy.  

Where another beautiful woman had been dragged by the beats, and made busy bringing flowers to adorn the gloriously laughing tree fairy that Yollana had seemed to become.  Wanda is a hero round these parts, for her dedication to our mother the earth, and the complete heart that she puts into actions to defend her from miners in particular.  Wanda puts the sexy into protest.  And these two gorgeous women were dancing in our garden, playing with my creation, and moving to the rhythms of Currawongs beating drums.  And yet another wonderful woman Lauren Fisher was already here with us, and all this beauty filling up our space was just totally infectious!

Of course Spiral-Moon had to be a part of it too.......  And this gorgeous little photo shoot kinda just happened, and it was all just so, and I felt all Hugh Heffner again, gushing bout how gorgeous it all looked, and how PERFECTLY stunning Yollana was, and how like a regal tree fairy, with her priestesses Wanda and Spiral devoting their worship to strewing flowers......and yes it can all sound very airy fairy, but the funny thing was, that it almost really felt like that.

We conjured all kinds of magics for what we could do with the photos, but the funnest idea was to make a calendar of the women of Billen.  Cause they're gorgeous.  And we seem to keep colliding with me and a camera, and them wearing my creations, around the dam near our house.......

Special moments that include all of us, and enrich our souls and our love for each other and our broader community.  That drip lacy bubbles of art and beauty around us.  

So this is a little story about a yarn that started very far away, and came through my hands to be turned into a tree cosy, and then visited an exhibition, and travelled around, before coming up here to live with us and be in the right time, and the right place, to nestle on the head of the beautiful Yollana.

And prepare itself for the next leg of the journey, the next spin of the yarn, the next turn of a tale.  

There's something in that for all of us.  

I think.