Lazy days and re connecting
Today is Easter, and as I sit here enjoying my cheese toastie, I am reflecting on what I am grateful for in these hard and strange times.
Firstly, I am grateful that our Lord died on the cross and rose again so that my sins are forgiven and I have my place in heaven.
Secondly, I have put everything into perspective. I am currently reading a book set just after the First World War, when the influenza pandemic had begun in England. Just like during our COVID times, they went through very similar experiences. They had just endured a world war, and then the flu hit—but people were resilient. They got on with it. Yes, they complained, but they also pulled together and made the best of things.
So I feel we can all do the same. There are many ways we can do this, but for me, one of those ways is through my art and my art classes.
Connecting with people gives them time out from everyday life. I am currently doing a pottery class once a week, and I love it. I just switch off and concentrate on what I am doing. My art does the same for me—I love creating, I love thinking about it, and I love looking at others’ work. I connect with the people in my classes; they are friends I just haven’t met yet. If you feel the need to switch off, take up a hobby and connect with others.
In a couple of months, I am hoping to start a monthly “come and meet” class for people who have done my classes and would like to come along, have a cuppa, and do whatever they want. It’s a way of connecting. In these times, we have lost some of that connection, and it is so important that we don’t. Spend some time off your phone, meet a friend, pick up the phone and call someone, check in on the elderly—they have such great wisdom and can teach some lovely crafts, and they have the patience to do so.
In these times, stop looking at the bad and start looking at the good. It can be simple things, like a cheese toastie or a walk with a friend. Yes, these times are hard, but we need to believe in ourselves and our ability to get through them.
So if today feels hard, drop me a line. I am happy to chat, maybe teach you a few things, but mainly just to be there and share the love we all need and want.
All my love Janet
At the heart of Ivy May Artistry and Why
At Ivy May Artistry, what we do is deeply rooted in a legacy of resilience, creativity, and the belief that anything is possible. My mother, Ivy May, raised us with a very specific rule: there was no such thing as "I can’t," and "I’m bored" was a banned phrase. She taught us that if you want something, you have the power to create it yourself.
A Legacy of Resourcefulness
My parents were "late" parents; they were young adults during World War II, with my father serving as a "Rat of Tobruk" with the British Army. In 1952, they emigrated to Australia as "Ten Pound Poms." Life was lean, and there was rarely extra money in the kitty, so they became masters of resourcefulness. My father built our kitchen by hand, and my mother sewed all our clothes.
My brother and I inherited this "maker" spirit. While my brother became a blacksmith (you can find his work at @Fellriggforge), my own path to artistry took a little longer. As a young girl, I was a total tomboy—happier riding bikes and playing in the creek than sitting still. My mother once tried to teach me to crochet, and I vividly remember throwing it back at her in frustration! She despaired that I would ever pick up a craft.
Turning Grief into Art
Everything changed when I was 17. My father passed away suddenly, and my world was shattered. We were incredibly close; we used to spend hours just sitting and talking. In the wake of his death, my mother and I had to reinvent ourselves. We both had to learn to drive, and just four weeks later, we boarded a plane to England to see my grandparents—a trip that proved to be a vital first step in our healing, especially as my grandmother passed away only five months later.
During this time of immense grief, I finally turned to crafting. What began as a way to pass the time became a profound method of healing and coping. Like so many others, I discovered that working with my hands provided a sanctuary for my mental health.
Our Mission
Ivy May Artistry isn't just about making beautiful things; it’s about the peace found in the process. We exist to share the same healing power of creativity that saved me years ago. If you are looking for a way to quiet the mind and soothe the soul, let me show you how.
In the next blog, I will... Continue on the my journey and crafting