Womankind – August 2019

106106

and ice cream to enjoy while I was

drawing him. And it worked!

Day four: I woke up tired, and as

soon as I walked into the bathroom I

felt angry: clothes everywhere, dirty

floor, mess around the spa bath, full

bin, and sand everywhere made me

feel like I wanted to scream. Hubby

was working in the garden, mean-

ing the little one couldn’t join him

and I’d have to look after her while

cleaning the place, cooking break-

fast, feeding the dog, and trying to

look happy - so I went on with my

duties, dragged myself through the

house, running up and down the

stairs a hundred times, trying to con-

vince my daughter to stop playing

and eat her food, meanwhile notic-

ing my unfinished jobs: half-sorted

washing, half-packed dishwasher

with a pile of dishes in the sink, half

put together dresses in the studio

with the threads and fabrics every-

where, unpacked blinds to hang in

the bathroom... I realised I couldn’t

bear it any more! I went to the bath-

room, shut the door, and screamed

as loud as I could. No one came to

check, nothing happened! It didn’t

make me feel better, only more

hopeless. I grabbed my three-year-

old and shouted across the garden

to my hubby that I am leaving now

to the playground or wherever! He

said he would come too but needed

time to finish. That tipped me over.

I yelled loudly, “I am leaving now!”

We ended up at the local pub with

the jumping castle and the play-

ground. Hubby was looking after

the little one while I was writing

frantically in my diary and gobbling

down Shiraz. I told my hubby that I

felt horrible and upset. I said to my

husband that I don’t want to feel

like that and collapsed on the bed

sobbing. Later I remember lying in

bed, staring at the water in the canal

and talking to my hubby about my

anxiety spiralling up from the day

we went to the funeral. I didn’t draw

that day.

Day five: I woke up exhaust-

ed from lack of sleep and anxious

not knowing what was wrong with

me. I made an appointment to see

the after-hours doctor, and nothing

was available until that afternoon,

so I dragged myself to the beach,

thinking that would cheer me up

• but seeing the water and happy
  kids running made me feel even
  worse. The doctor stated that after
  I stopped taking my medication I
  simply ran out of happy chemicals in
  my brain, which caused the dysfunc-
  tion. Knowing that I will feel better
  by going back on the meds made me
  feel good instantly. We drew togeth-
  er with my daughter that day; it was
  a happy family picture.

you run strips of newspaper through

two fingers, the mess of it all brings

me back to my childhood. But man-

dalas bring me outside, urge me to

meditate as I create, and they serve

as prayers to the earth, to all people.

I drove to our cabin for a solo over-

night and getaway midweek. I was

restless and feeling low as I drove up

Lake Superior’s north shore. I found

the perfect spot near an overlook on

a rocky ledge with crashing waves

below. I gathered leaves, pine cones,

seeds, lichen, moss, and flowers. I

breathed a prayer of gratitude for

beauty into each piece as I placed

them. After many moments, I rose

and made my way back to my car. I

drove north feeling lighter, peace-

ful, and dreaming of where my next

mandala will be tomorrow.

Day two: It’s hot and muggy out-

side and thinking of sitting on the

ground arranging leaves and sticks

is not appealing. I always do this.

Throw myself all in on a project

then burn out after one day. Why do

I do this? Often, it’s because a voice

inside says, “What’s the point?”

I wait until I’m by the lake again.

The breeze is cool, there are teenag-

ers in hammocks playing loud music,

a mother nursing her baby in a sling,

children climbing rocks, collecting

driftwood. My husband calls, and I

become that person on a cell phone

as I pick blossoms, arrange rocks. I

place five leaves in a circle, anchor

them with rocks, tuck in flower

clusters, and I have a design. I am

self-conscious on the phone, but my

husband’s voice is warm and he miss-

es me.

Day three: Crazy how taking

five lousy minutes out of your day to

create art can feel impossible. Today

it did. I was busy at work, ran into

delays before leaving again for the

cabin, and by the time I was heading

Kimberly Stromgren

Day one: I settled on prayer

mandalas made from natural materi-

als. My friend Sarah taught me how

to make them. You place leaves,

flowers, rocks, whatever calls to

you, in a symmetrical shape on the

ground. It’s a collage I guess, a sculp-

ture. I had entertained the thought

of creating with papier-mâché when

I accepted this art challenge because

the smell of the flour and water

paste, the cool slipperiness of it as

106 WOMANKIND’S ART CHALLENGE Womankind Community

and ice cream to enjoy while I was
drawing him. And it worked!
Day four: I woke up tired, and as
soon as I walked into the bathroom I
felt angry: clothes everywhere, dirty
floor, mess around the spa bath, full
bin, and sand everywhere made me
feel like I wanted to scream. Hubby
was working in the garden, mean-
ing the little one couldn’t join him
and I’d have to look after her while
cleaning the place, cooking break-
fast, feeding the dog, and trying to
look happy - so I went on with my
duties, dragged myself through the
house, running up and down the
stairs a hundred times, trying to con-
vince my daughter to stop playing
and eat her food, meanwhile notic-
ing my unfinished jobs: half-sorted
washing, half-packed dishwasher
with a pile of dishes in the sink, half
put together dresses in the studio
with the threads and fabrics every-
where, unpacked blinds to hang in
the bathroom... I realised I couldn’t
bear it any more! I went to the bath-
room, shut the door, and screamed
as loud as I could. No one came to
check, nothing happened! It didn’t
make me feel better, only more
hopeless. I grabbed my three-year-
old and shouted across the garden
to my hubby that I am leaving now
to the playground or wherever! He
said he would come too but needed
time to finish. That tipped me over.
I yelled loudly, “I am leaving now!”
We ended up at the local pub with
the jumping castle and the play-
ground. Hubby was looking after
the little one while I was writing
frantically in my diary and gobbling
down Shiraz. I told my hubby that I
felt horrible and upset. I said to my
husband that I don’t want to feel
like that and collapsed on the bed
sobbing. Later I remember lying in
bed, staring at the water in the canal

and talking to my hubby about my

anxiety spiralling up from the day

we went to the funeral. I didn’t draw

that day.

Day five: I woke up exhaust-

ed from lack of sleep and anxious

not knowing what was wrong with

me. I made an appointment to see

the after-hours doctor, and nothing

was available until that afternoon,

so I dragged myself to the beach,

thinking that would cheer me up

• but seeing the water and happy
  kids running made me feel even
  worse. The doctor stated that after
  I stopped taking my medication I
  simply ran out of happy chemicals in
  my brain, which caused the dysfunc-
  tion. Knowing that I will feel better
  by going back on the meds made me
  feel good instantly. We drew togeth-
  er with my daughter that day; it was
  a happy family picture.

you run strips of newspaper through

two fingers, the mess of it all brings

me back to my childhood. But man-

dalas bring me outside, urge me to

meditate as I create, and they serve

as prayers to the earth, to all people.

I drove to our cabin for a solo over-

night and getaway midweek. I was

restless and feeling low as I drove up

Lake Superior’s north shore. I found

the perfect spot near an overlook on

a rocky ledge with crashing waves

below. I gathered leaves, pine cones,

seeds, lichen, moss, and flowers. I

breathed a prayer of gratitude for

beauty into each piece as I placed

them. After many moments, I rose

and made my way back to my car. I

drove north feeling lighter, peace-

ful, and dreaming of where my next

mandala will be tomorrow.

Day two: It’s hot and muggy out-

side and thinking of sitting on the

ground arranging leaves and sticks

is not appealing. I always do this.

Throw myself all in on a project

then burn out after one day. Why do

I do this? Often, it’s because a voice

inside says, “What’s the point?”

I wait until I’m by the lake again.

The breeze is cool, there are teenag-

ers in hammocks playing loud music,

a mother nursing her baby in a sling,

children climbing rocks, collecting

driftwood. My husband calls, and I

become that person on a cell phone

as I pick blossoms, arrange rocks. I

place five leaves in a circle, anchor

them with rocks, tuck in flower

clusters, and I have a design. I am

self-conscious on the phone, but my

husband’s voice is warm and he miss-

es me.

Day three: Crazy how taking

five lousy minutes out of your day to

create art can feel impossible. Today

it did. I was busy at work, ran into

delays before leaving again for the

cabin, and by the time I was heading

Kimberly Stromgren

Day one: I settled on prayer

mandalas made from natural materi-

als. My friend Sarah taught me how

to make them. You place leaves,

flowers, rocks, whatever calls to

you, in a symmetrical shape on the

ground. It’s a collage I guess, a sculp-

ture. I had entertained the thought

of creating with papier-mâché when

I accepted this art challenge because

the smell of the flour and water

paste, the cool slipperiness of it as

WOMANKIND’S ART CHALLENGE Womankind Community