quietly creating

Barbara Wanhill

recent posts

  • The unexpected joy of leftovers

    My #abstractadvent solution for 2025. Thank you art pedagogy for hosting this every December.

    A few days before Christmas, I went into WordPress to edit some information, got sidetracked and inattentively changed the theme of this site. Please enjoy this new and tidy digital landscape and if something is causing you issues, please let me know and I will delve further.

    Less tidy yet full of joyful-to-me chaos, is my visual solution to Abstract Advent 2025. At the end of November, I set out to participate in this online art challenge and then abruptly abandoned the activity. However; I was inspired by some kindred creative spirits on Bluesky who were participating. Seeing their work helped me to commit to finishing the exercise before the end of the year. Boxing Day was the perfect time.

    The collage was created with leftover bits of plain and gelli printed paper, onion skin dyed paper stars, lemon juice burned shapes and details added with some homemade acorn cap ink, coloured pencils and ink pen. I am happy the imagery came together like this: leftovers orchestrated to create a non-sensical paper space-time dream.

    burning lemon juice shapes
    creating a kit-of-parts
    building a composition
    adding homemade acorn cap ink details

  • A Winter Solstice Sandwich

    In my mind, I had romantic visual plans for today. I would walk to the park as the first light of Winter Solstice filtered through the trees. The wreath of pussytoes I had created this spring summer would be displayed on the sparse covering of sparkling snow. From there, an airy breeze would lift the seed puffs and disperse them to become future native seedlings living again within their natural habitat. And I would photograph the experience artfully.

    Instead, I have just awoken from a noon day nap. The weather app is still clocking in at a sunny and more reasonable -16ºC. The flu/cold I contracted shortly after last week’s dramatic morning-recess-supervision-during-a-snow-squall, is starting to subside, and the only artful thing I have created today is to make myself a sandwich. The bread was stunning both visually and gastronomically; however, you will have to take my word for it. To photograph it now would be suspect: just a plate of crumbs and one small triangle of spinach (by now even that has disappeared).

    I am grateful to have this day stretch out slowly, even in its natural light shortness. My memory is stumbling and it is comforting to have a record of terrestrial activities to ground me in the idea that somewhere in my mind, there is a crumb of creativity ready to spring forth and visually express itself again.

    And the wreath? Maybe it will show up here again sometime. But not today. There is too much snow right now to think that seeds would make contact with the ground anyway – perhaps future food for a critter instead?

    (I see that now I have the option to improve this post with AI. I did not. The only literary crutch I used was a dictionary and thesaurus.)

  • Indifference

    indifference noun

    Synonyms: apathy, casualness, complacence, disregard, incuriousness, torpor

    1. : the quality, state, or fact of being indifferent
    2. a : absence of compulsion to or toward one thing or another

    Merriam-Webster Dictionary

    From an early age, I’ve been conditioned not to waste time. So when I found myself wide awake this morning at 3:40am, I got up, made some tea and headed to one of my support spindles. Using a diy system, I unwound the spindle to create a chain-plying ball, then spun up a small buttery white skein of Vancouver Island Babydoll Southdown. It’s currently soaking in the sink and the tightness of the spin is blooming into something softer, more relaxed.

    After years of spinning, I should know what I’m doing. However; I don’t really. There are so many excuses I could give you to let you know why I am still a sub-par spinner and you may think it doesn’t even matter. It’s just spinning! (Or you may argue: Your spinning is great! What are you talking about?! Or: Yes, finally you get it, so just stop!)

    For today, I suggest that this casual imperfect and inconsequential (but still beloved!) hobby of mine stands in for something I’m trying to more broadly put my finger on. A constant tightness I feel that might not be shared by others. This morning after spinning, I lay on the floor for awhile – staring at the ceiling and then at the third eye of my iPhone and came across a quote I had recorded in Notes back on July 25, 2022 during Pope Francis’ visit to Maskwacis, Alberta. He had arrived to apologize to Indigenous peoples of Canada for the Catholic church’s role in residential schools. I went back and found the clip (at approx. 8 min. 40 sec.) on our digital bible, Youtube, and realized the note I had made was a paraphrase from the translator, as Pope Francis was speaking in Spanish. Below, the paraphrase:

    Forgetfulness leads to indifference.

    The opposite of love is not hate, it is indifference.

    The opposite of life is not death, it is indifference.

    Indifference. This is making me feel the tightness. The seeming casualness of everything these days. Perhaps, due to the inability to take it all in and perhaps due to the perennial tiredness of the train-wreck-current-state-of-our-world. It’s easier to just give in, give up, exist on the surface. Placing attention anywhere but in front of the living beings right here. Placing attention on consumption not creation. For me, it becomes paralyzing.

    How do I remember to ask better questions of myself and of others to help foster relationships based on love, not disregard? How do I remember to take care of myself so I can live a creative life filled with love not complacence?

    As this year comes to a near close, I wish for myself and for you to foster curiosity, remember authentic and deep gratitude, advocate for a creative life, practice the complex work of sincere compassion.