my first tapestry sampler

8" x 8"
SAMPLER #1
linen warp/wool weft
woven on copper hand loom
december 2006

Samplers serve as an example of technical skill.

I'm at the very beginning and so this demonstrates

the important "kindergarten-like" acheivements of weaving.

The great weavers throughout the ages agree that tapestry should:

1. have an absence of linear perspective

2. contain a limited colour palette

3. contain techniques representative of tapesty and not other mediums

description: the kf demonstrates angles and curves, the vertical stripes a couple of different interlocking techniques; above the stripes are some line gradation with dots and and vertical lines; the upper left square shows floating shape building and then some hatchure techniques for shading.

8" x 10"

Sketches in felt

cashmere on merino

hand made felt / design added using dryfelting technique

december 2006

(potentially a pocket patch on a corduroy messenger style bag)

The Coptic Three

For my tapestry project I chose to weave this image that was brought back from Ethiopia, by my dear friends Andrea and Sam. The original is just 2 x 2" and is painted in a wooden tryptic with doors that open to reveal these three on one of the sides and Christ and his Mom in the centre. These three look on from the left. I like them, because to me they represent the faithful, though unknown, seekers of God's physical presence. It was challenging to communicate as much detail as the original, and gave me a good understanding some of the newly acquired shape building techniques. All of the fibres that I used would have been available to the Copts in the first to sixth centuries.

These are 2 of the 23 "sketches in felt" that i made while finally settling on my final project piece.

Their dimensions are approximately 8 x10", and are composed of many layers of corridale wool (fleece) and then worked using the three things that turn wool into felt.

1. soap! (a gooey mixture of grated ivory soap and warm water)

2. heat! (a kettle of boiling water, close at hand)

3. agitation! (textured surfaces such as sushi rolling mats, and old fashions washboards)

Unlike the modern method of felting (sometimes even done by accident) in the washing machine, we employed the ancient method used by nomadic people of mongolia who for ages, have made shelters, as well as clothing of felt.

I keep joking that I might make a yurt, but in the meantime I thought it'd be fun to create a series of lamps from my leftover "sketches." The transluscent felt diffuses the light and gives a warm quality to the watercolour-like images. I also like textile alternatives to the paper, glass or plastic choices that we find in the shops these days, especially for clean urban spaces.

My little wonder girl!

Prayer of Metropolitan St. Philaret of Moscow (19th century)



Lord, I know not what to ask of You.

You alone know what my true needs are.

You love me more than I myself know how to love.

Help me to see my real needs which may be hidden from me.

I dare not ask for either a cross or a consolation.

I can only wait upon You; my heart is open to You.

Visit and help me in Your steadfast love.

Strike me and heal me.

Cast me down and raise me up.

I worship in silence Your holy will.

I offer myself to you as a living sacrifice.

I put all my trust in You.

I have no other desire than to fulfill Your will.

Teach me to pray. Pray Yourself in me.

This has been a cool week.

I feel like I've made a new friend, gotten to see some old ones and

have experienced once again the incomparable blessing and renewal that family brings.

This sculpture is one of my favorites. These 40 foot tall people dance on the lawn of the Calgary Board of Education Office, and I used to go out of my way for them each morning enroute to work. Calgary, in particular, holds so many strong memories for me. And while it's a joy to visit (and now Edmonton too), is it absolutely not my home!

Being the delicate flower that I am,

the lack of moisture in the air causes me to be insatiably thirsty, and even my skin goes from being healthy to parched in a matter of days. With all due respect (to you lovely Albertans perhaps reading this), one of my most poignant memories of my time living in these parts was an afternoon driving out to WaterValley with my good friend, Kris. We were towing her two snowmobiles behind her truck. It was sunset and golden and I was thinking outloud to her about applying to Alberta College of Art and Design, for the fall term. She asked what I'd study, to which I replied, maybe Photography. Her response was so strong, I will always remember it. She began laughing. At first just a little and then it turned into a belly laugh and soon I was laughing too, without even really knowing why. I asked her what was so funny? I had travelled a little and knew a bit about aperature. I even had a few shots I was kind of proud of. She said so sincerely to me next, that while she and our friends loved me a great deal, I needed to go Home. And I knew she was right. And I did.

It's funny what memories a trip will conjure.

So after some lovely days with Matthew and Krista it's back to Calgary tomorrow and then home from there.

road trip

... heading out for a drive through the rockies tommorrow,

to go pay my little bro a visit... we sure are lucky ducks to call these vistas home.

My first Ocean and Mountain

My parents kind of had this philosophy when we were kids, that they didn't slow down; we had to keep up. This meant that our vantage point for the first few years, was often from my dad's back pack.

We were walking along the shore at either North Beach or Pres'quille Park. I do remember that as kids, on warmer days we'd cart down some styrofoam surfboards from the stationwagon. We'd call this the "Ocean Side".

...And here I am with my moma having just climbed the "Mountain" behind our House, in Trenton, Ontario. It was technically one of the rolling hills of the Canadian Sheild and not really a mountain at all...but it didn't stop me from feeling as proud as Sir Edmund Hillary himself.

my mom and i

my fun collection of children's hats

The latest cielo designs model has been recruited!

Check out what's happening these days on
"the clothes
line!"

a rolling stone gathers no moss...but maybe moss is underrated.

1. Catherine Street , Trenton, Ontario

2. Cliff Avenue

3. Menzies Street

4. Graham Island, Haida Gwaii

5. Barclay + Broughton

6. Langara Island, Haida Gwaii

7. Bute + Comox

8. Motor Yacht Double Haven, Singapore

9. Above the Atelier Gallery on Granville

10. 7th + Arbutus

11. Dundarave

12. Bellevue

13. Motor Yacht Caprice, St. Maarten

14. Sailing Yacht Flying Magic, Antigua

15. Lake Ponchatrain, New Orleans

16.Nova Spirit, through the Panama

17. Marda Loop, Calgary

18. Wells Gray Park

19. Menzies

20. 53rd and Granville

21. 7th + Dunbar

22. Lakewood + Venables

23. Chester Street

24. Menzies

i was having lunch the other day with one of my oldest and bestest friends, miss nikki b; co- resident of address # five on the list. we were dining at the lotus, and over our omlettes trying to determine who rivalled who for the most addresses, in the shortest amount of time. the crazy thing is that we decided she might have me beat!

my wanderlust has served me well in some ways. my life is full of long time friendships, and untradable memories. i've gotten to spend substantial time on three continents, and have had the opportunity to experience some pretty diverse lifestyles and living conditions; from a few blocks off east hastings to the 14th most expensive mega yacht on the planet.

in other ways, my transient tendancies have kind of taken their toll. when a friend recently came home from Europe a little while ago, it brought to mind, some unique memories of days that have come me in the course of living abroad and the various backpacking trips in between. what seemed like a month's worth of living in a day... watching schindler's list in prague amongst oldies with first hand experience of the story being told; waking up in my bunk and noticing my port hole being very much under water and us seriously listing to port, somewhere off the coast of cuba; driving along a freeway in Spain and having the car burst into flames, the seats slowly melting, and then the whole thing eventually exploding, as my new friend and i waited for the fire department to arrive, him running back to get my passport and journal from the glove compartment. similar episodes indelibly scribed within that i've yet to say outloud to anyone.

i take comfort in knowing that the fall will, God willing, bring some good blocks of time, for the first time ever... to explore some ways to express what's going on below. to distill some of the questions that nag at me, that i've yet to find the right phrases for. i'm curious to know what might come. and at the same time can't wait to be done with much of it...to kind of address it, and be done with it, in hopes that it will create new space within. ever had the feeling that you have about ten years you need desperately to debrief?

A fun day in the country...

Last Saturday, we piled in the car and went to pay a visit to the newest little foal.

Here Jude feeds the new mama Raven, some berry-apple treats. My Mom and Dad stay close.

Here the brave little jockey goes for a ride in the ring, on Beauty.
Holly (the new foal) at only 2 weeks old, is as tall as an almost 5 year old boy!

i miss these two, already.

us kids + grampa, with "grama at the farm" - bloomfield, ontario - circa 1979 or 80

jeffy, grampa russ, me, gram, matty + pam

the smell of strawberries, rosemilk hand lotion or the mere mention of "catfish" brings rushes of memories.

mom + dad (true love forever)

My dad and mom celebrated their 39th Anniversary on Saturday!

A pretty sweet couple they remain.

This cute little swishy face

belongs to my Godson Jude.

When he and his folks moved to Chicago a couple of summers ago, he was a little guy. One of his favorite people is Biss. He enjoys playing soccer and kind of follows his own groove. He is an extremely bright light and a very creative soul. His mom and dad enjoy him so much. Their family is a beautiful experience to behold.

One of my nicest memories is a fun walk we took one time to Spanish Banks. His mama and I strolled ahead down to the point and when we came back we found he and his dad dancing and drumming amongst the tiki torches. They were having such a fun time. We stayed and enjoyed the warm night till it got too chilly and then headed back to my place for some hot cocoa. Jude fell asleep while we played guitar and told stories.

The Happiest News of 2006 is that Jude's family will be moving back to Canada in just a few weeks! I looking forward to some lazy summer walks to come, and the joy of meeting his baby sister Esme.

FAMILIA FRANCISCO, EST. 1967

Easter; 22 years ago

Churchyard, Chilliwack, BC ; circa 1984

My papa just sent this picture. It hung above our piano for most of my growing up years. In it, Mom, Jeff, Pam and Matt look like they're sharing a chuckle while my Dad & I look like we either missed the punchline "Huh?...". or a more likely explanation could be that we're just coming down from the Cad-bury EasterCreme-Eggs!/Jellybean-Hunt- Induced SUGAR HIGH, that Matthew would annually shake us out of our peaceful slumbers for, generally a few hours before the crack of dawn! :)

In either case, we had just moved from Ontario, land of toboggans and snowforts to a mysterious new land where Cougar Boots were no longer required. I think at this point I was still getting comfortable in my new footwear; the standard jr. high dresscode: stirrup pants and pastel jellybean sparkle sandals, not quite yet, (shall we say) "me".

Anyway, A Blessed Easter/Pascha! to all, whether you've just come through your celebrations, or you're in the homestretch this week. I'll be with the Motet's in Victoria for Easter this coming weekend and will look forward to add a few Romanian customs to my season!

Let us throw ourselves into the ocean of God's mercy,

where every failing will be cancelled and anxiety turned into Love.

- St. Paul of the Cross

Good old fashioned Quiet.

be still and know


a characteristic of my parent's home will always be for me, beautiful quiet. we didn't have tvs or even radios until i was about ten, i think. as a four year old, i'd wake up from my naps to watch my mom in the midst of her weeding the garden. sometimes she'd spend whole afternoons 'getting into the word', as she'd put it. if she made a phone call, she'd announce 'the purpose of her call, make the plan or the request, and close with a: "right then, goodbye". she's not one for idle words.

one lent, before i was baptized into the orthodox tradition, i gave up talking. it lasted about 11 days. it was extremely powerful. creepy crud seem to float to the surface throughout, but my sleeps were sounder and deeper than ever. my senses were enlivened. it was as though i were coming back to life.

in my many seasons of coming and going from canada in my early 20s, what would restore me most, would be to paw through a box of postcards and letters, stashed away, in what we call my parents loft. i'd spend hours up there.

i just read on 'come receive the light' that "one of the early church fathers declared that the language of heaven is silence. there seems to be a power to silence that allows all the noise of this world to die away and to help us focus on the “still, small voice” that reveals the true nature of things. our lives are filled with sound. everywhere there is “noise” for our eyes and mind as well. we are people who are suffering from sensory overload. it shows in the fractured lives we lead and how we have had to so compartmentalize our lives to survive this onslaught of “noise.” i remember driving back into vancouver one night, after a presanctified liturgy with my friend seraphim a few years ago. i was struck by the billboards along grandview highway in a new way. The preceeding hour and a half had so taken me out of my usual realm, and put me in such a different headspace that it was as though i was looking at the world through new eyes.

Jesus saw the need to regularly get alone with His Father to strengthen His soul, like my mom would. There is a story told by Metropolitan Anthony Bloom (of blessed memory) in his book, Living Prayer, about an old Orthodox man who would sit in church for hours in front of the icon of Jesus without saying a word. When asked about this, the old man replied, “I look at Him, and He looks at me, and we are happy together.”

the past couple of weeks have been incredibly busy, many days on end not sitting down in the quiet until after midnight.. i don't know why i've been choosing this way. it's terrible. it robs me of seeing the goodness in others and tends to make me impatient, ugly and eventually sick. i become nasty and ungrateful, the worst version of me.

so i need to get back on track. and in between the usual good lenten responsibilities, if it warms up i might sneak down to spanish banks to just stare out for a while.

love is all around us...