The Cane: A Companion on the Artist’s Path

It’s been two weeks since we boarded the train from Westport to Dublin on our way back home from Mulranny. I’m working on a catalog of our work and adventures, and seeing all of the photographs brings back profound lessons that I learned when I was teaching there.

Our group explored not just making vessels in the studio, but also the wild, windswept beauty of the West Coast—the cliffs, sacred wells, narrow paths, stony beaches, and long flights of stone stairs.

One of our group members walked with a cane, and I worried at first that the rough terrain might keep her from fully joining us. But she surprised us all.

Her cane was not a hindrance. It was a companion. She leaned on it when the path was steep, planted it firmly when the wind blew hard, and carried it with quiet dignity (and smiles).

She never let it define her; instead, she used it as a tool that allowed her to go everywhere everyone else went. Her determination and grace became a lesson for us all.

This memory inspired THE CANE Enso Oracle Card, which holds a message not just for travelers in the world, but for travelers in the studio. In our creative practice, the cane becomes a metaphor. Where might I allow myself the gift of support without apology? What “cane” could help me take the next step? Am I resisting help that would make my path easier?

For artists, a “cane” might look like a mentor’s guidance, a trusted book, a workshop that opens new doors, or even a tool in the studio that simplifies what once felt cumbersome. Sometimes it’s as simple as asking for feedback instead of struggling alone, or letting technology carry some of the load so you can stay focused on the art itself.

Too often we equate independence with strength (I know I do), as if needing help somehow diminishes our creative power. But in truth, the supports we lean on—whether people, tools, or practices—are what allow us to keep climbing, to see new horizons, and to carry on when the path grows rocky.

So perhaps the question to bring into the studio today is this: What is my “cane”? What support could I embrace that would allow me to see farther, work longer, and create with greater ease?

Strength isn’t about going it alone. It’s about knowing when to lean, so we can keep walking.

The Cane
Support • Persistence • Courage

The Cane is not a sign of weakness—it is a trusted companion on the path, a staff for the explorer’s hand, a reminder that accepting support allows us to go farther than we could alone. Whether it steadies our steps on stony paths, helps us climb sacred stairs, or simply gives us the confidence to keep moving, it becomes part of the journey rather than a limitation. In art, as in life, the wise traveler knows when to lean on something trusted.

Upright, The Cane speaks of resilience, resourcefulness, and the grace to accept help without apology.

Reversed, it cautions against mistaking stubborn independence for strength—when we refuse the support we need, we risk exhausting ourselves and cutting short the adventure. The Cane teaches that there is no shame in asking for help, only strength in receiving it. Let it be your symbol of determination, your portable pillar, your license to explore the world at your own pace. Every mark you make—whether with a brush, a pen, or your feet—is richer because you carried on.

Reflection: Where might I allow myself the gift of support without apology? What “cane” could help me take the next step? Am I resisting help that would make my path easier?

Affirmation: I welcome the tools and allies that make my journey possible.

______________________________

Reflection for Your Own Practice

Just as my friend in Ireland leaned on her cane to climb cliffs and cross ancient paths, we as artists can lean on our own “canes” in the studio—supports that help us keep moving, see farther, and continue creating without apology. Ask yourself: What is my cane?

Here are some possibilities:

  • A class you’ve hesitated to take because you felt you “should already know”

  • A piece of equipment or tool you’ve postponed buying, even though it would save time or expand your options

  • The act of asking for feedback from a trusted friend, mentor, or fellow artist

  • Giving yourself permission to hire help for tasks that drain your energy (framing, shipping, photography)

  • Allowing technology—software, apps, even AI—to handle the tedious parts so you can focus on creating

  • Joining (or rejoining) a community or critique group for connection and encouragement

  • Setting boundaries around your studio time and asking others to honor them

  • Revisiting a favorite book, workshop, or teacher who once sparked your growth

  • Saying yes to rest and recovery when your body or spirit needs it

Which of these could be your cane right now? And which others could you name for yourself? I know one of mine would be setting boundaries around my studio time – but it’s hard!!

Your “cane” might also be thought of as a staff, walking stick, compass, anchor, lifeline, bridge, or guide—whatever image reminds you that support is not a weakness but a way forward.

True strength in art, as in life, is not measured by how far we can go alone, but by the wisdom of knowing when—and how—to lean so that the journey continues.

Linda, this card is for you!!♥

 

The Muñeco: A Small Figure That Holds So Much

While researching a new series of altar-based assemblages for the Taos exhibit that will be inspired by the ritual codex of Sr. Alfonso García Téllez, I rediscovered a word I hadn’t thought about in years: muñeco. (“moo-NYEH-koh”)

You may not have heard this term before in this context. In Spanish, muñeco means “little doll” or “figure,” but in the sacred art of Alfonso Téllez—an Otomí shaman from San Pablito, Mexico—a muñeco is something much more than a toy. It is a spirit vessel, a symbolic stand-in used in healing rituals, offerings, and prayers.

Cut from handmade amate bark paper in simple, symmetrical forms, these figures carry what is too heavy, too complex, or too mysterious to name directly.

That idea stopped me in my tracks — a symbol? An archetype? A vessel for complex emotions?

In Téllez’s codices, a cut paper bird figure, for instance, might represent loss, freedom, rebirth, or all of those at once. The figure is a kind of visual shorthand—a handmade icon that expresses the inexpressible.

These are not just decorative elements; they are tools of ceremony and emotion, used in acts of release, remembrance, and reverence.

And that’s when I realizedwe could all use a muñeco.

What if you cut a shape from paper—just a silhouette—and let it hold something for you? A grief. A prayer. A question. A transition.

You could glue it into a collage, tuck it into a pocket, burn it, bury it, or simply keep it near. Not to solve the feeling. But to give it form. To acknowledge it. To begin to let it move.

This idea became the seed for a new oracle card in my Enso deck—The Muñeco. It reminds us that the most powerful symbols don’t have to be complex or literal. They just have to be true.

Sometimes, the smallest figure holds the most.

The Muñeco

Keywords: Spirit Vessel · Proxy · Release · Ancestral Simplicity

Interpretation:

The Muñeco is a doll-like figure cut from bark or paper—simple, symmetrical, and quiet. But don’t mistake its humility for weakness. It is a sacred stand-in, a vessel for what you cannot carry, what you cannot say. In ritual, the muñeco holds illness, sorrow, memory, or prayer. In your life, it may be asking: What weight are you ready to release? What part of you longs to be witnessed and let go?

This card honors the ancient truth that the most powerful symbols are not always grand—they are small, handmade, passed down, and alive with meaning. The Muñeco reminds you that fragility and faith can live in the same shape. Cut your prayer from paper. Name your burden. Then offer it forward, and let it be carried.

Reversed:

Reversed, The Muñeco suggests confusion between what is yours and what you’ve placed onto others—or what others have placed on you. Are you unconsciously projecting, assigning roles, or expecting others to carry what is yours to hold? Or are you refusing to let something go, keeping it folded tightly within yourself? The spirit figure has become tangled. This card invites you to separate, to clarify, and to release with compassion.

Reflection Questions:

  • What object or act could serve as a release today?
  • Have I mistaken simplicity for lack of meaning—or overlooked the quiet things that hold the most?
  • Who or what have I turned into a proxy for my own unspoken needs?

Closing Insight:

The Muñeco holds space for what cannot speak. In letting it carry your burden, you remember that even the smallest gesture can be an act of ceremony.

(Above) Autograph manuscript concerning Otomí indigenous curandero customs and folk medicine in Mexico. The text describes shamanic rituals for various maladies (enfermedades) with mounted cut-out paper figures (mun̋ecos)representing spirit entities drawn from both indigenous and Christian mythos. Illustrated with amate bark paper cut-outs, dated approximately 1978

_____________________________________________

A Small Practice

If this idea speaks to you, try this:

Sit quietly with a small square of folded paper. You don’t need a plan—just rest your hands, take a breath, and begin to cut. Let your thoughts wander toward something you’d like to let go of… or something you wish to remember.

When you’re ready, unfold the paper.

See what’s there. A figure, a shape, a whisper of a form.

You’ve made your own muñeco.

Now pause. Ask yourself: What do I want to do with this little symbol?

Will you keep it tucked into a journal? Burn it in ceremony? Bury it, give it away, or place it on your studio worktable or tape it in your window?

Deciding what to do with the cut shape is part of the ritual.

It’s a way of giving form to something too vast for words—and choosing how to honor it or say goodbye to it.

And speaking of saying goodbye, I’m headed to Ireland this week to teach a workshop at the Mulranny Arts Centre—an inspiring place where dreams and landscapes overlap. I’ll be offline for a little while, but I’ll return soon with stories, images, and new ideas to share.

In the meantime, why not cut a paper shape, a muñeco —not to finish something, but to begin. Let it be a placeholder for your thoughts, your plans, your hopes. Let it hold what you’re not ready to name just yet.

Be safe.
Do good work.
And let the small things carry meaning!

Thanks, as always, for reading SHARDS.

♥Lyn

my muñeco for the journey – it holds so much and lets go of so much

The Clarity of White

I returned from Greece this past weekend filled with awe and wonder and new perspectives. Here’s the first one.

One of the many revelations that came to me while I was there was the strange and beautiful properties of the color white. Of course, if you remember your science lessons, white is not really a single color but a mixture of every color on the light spectrum.

In Greece, white dazzles everywhere – in the architecture, on the clothing of the men, women, and children. The bright white color reflects the intense sunlight, helping to keep buildings (and people) cooler during the hot summer months. The uniform white aesthetic has become a cultural and architectural tradition.

Intuition would suggest that if everything is white, then nothing stands out. But actually, white provides a clarity of detail that would be lost in a mass of various colors through the emphasis on form and value. Look at this rock wall in Mykonos – each white-washed stone is clearly outlined by form and shadow.

In this photo of Santorini, each building is clearly defined by its shape and its non-white accents such as the windows. If every building were a different color, this clarity would not be so evident.

And here is a Greek chapel. Does this white abstract form remind you of Georgia O’Keeffe? It does me 🙂

Sculptor Louise Nevelson used this principal to clarify her signature work because she wanted to emphasize and give power to the forms.

This morning, I was thinking about all of this while working in my studio on some base forms for the Vessel workshop I’ll be teaching at UTSA/SW School in July. The forms start out as pure white and are intended to be expanded and embellished. Here are a few that I made today, stacked up together:

Here they are individually – I experimented with various base materials:

Plaster gauze over balloon armature

Cotton rag and plaster

Mulberry paper and cheesecloth

Layered cheesecloth with acrylic medium

There is a huge temptation to leave them just as they are – variations in white that show the texture. But of course they are just bases that are intended to be added to.

On a whim, I took a couple of scrap assemblage pieces that hadn’t been working and painted them white, like the rocks in the Greek stone wall – I liked the result. The white clarifies the design and gives me some new directions.

I’m obviously not going to take a can of white spray paint and cover everything dimensional that I’m working on because of what I saw in Greece, but this new appreciation for white as a clarifier and unifier rather than just a blank element or space-holding color is inspiring. White. Simple. Limitless.

End of Greek Lesson One – next lesson, shards and faces!!

Thanks for reading!

~~Lyn, Intrepid Greek Island Explorer

 

 

 

 

Brown Paper Packages

I’ve never been to Moab, Utah, but Moab came to me in a brown paper package a couple of days ago! My long-time online friend Wilma Sliger who lives there sent me a big assortment of sticks and stones and sand and beads and cheesecloth and petrified wood – a Moab sampler! Who doesn’t love getting an unexpected package in the mail??

Even better, there were handwritten, funny notes attached to the objects.

There is a small container of red sand include in the stash – just the thought of that red sand and the monumental land that it comes from gives me shivers. Maybe some prehistoric artist used that sand as a colorant on some of Moab’s magnificent petroglyphs.

I learned that when the iron molecules in the sand come into contact with the oxygen in the air, they oxidize – basically, they rust – turning into iron oxide, which has a reddish color. And you could mix them in acrylic medium or beeswax for a faux rust finish, I’ll bet.

Obviously, Wilma feels the magic of the land in her own work – I did a post on her cat shamans a couple of years ago. This one has an glass evil-eye protection charm and looks pretty scary-clever to me.

Two things to take away from this – one, wherever you live and create, that area has its own resonance, quiet or dramatic, powerful or gentle. If you are ever in need of inspiration, go outside and look around you at the big things and the small ones.

And secondly, put some special treasures in a brown paper package and send it to a friend in another part of the country or world – it will make their day!!

PS . Here’s a little checklist of ways to connect with the land no mater where you live. Some you may be doing, some may be obvious, some may not work for you, but all are good practices:

Seeking inspiration and magic from nature in one’s local environment can be a deeply rewarding and sustainable source of creativity for artists. Here are five ways artists can connect with nature for inspiration:

  1. Daily Observations: Take time to regularly observe the natural world around you. Pay attention to the changing seasons, the behavior of wildlife, and the nuances of the landscape. Bring a notebook or sketchbook to jot down ideas, sketch, or make notes about what you observe. These small, daily observations can lead to significant creative insights.
  2. Nature Walks and Hikes: Explore your local parks, forests, trails, and green spaces. Spend time immersed in nature, and take long walks or hikes to connect with the environment. The sights, sounds, and smells of the natural world can trigger new ideas and emotions that can be channeled into your art.
  3. Natural Materials: Use natural materials as part of your creative process. This can include using leaves, flowers, twigs, stones, or other found objects in your artwork. Consider making natural dyes or pigments from plants for painting or using natural textures in your sculptures or installations.
  4. Photography and Sketching: Bring a camera or sketchbook with you on your outdoor adventures. Capture the beauty of nature through photography or create on-the-spot sketches. These visual records can serve as references for your artwork and help you better understand the details and patterns in the environment.
  5. Community Involvement: Join local environmental organizations, conservation groups, or community gardening projects. Volunteering or actively participating in these activities can provide a sense of purpose and connection with the environment. It can also expose you to like-minded individuals who share your passion for nature and creativity.

Remember that inspiration from nature can come from the smallest details, so stay open to the subtleties of your surroundings. The magic and inspiration are often found in the intricacies of the natural world, and by immersing yourself in your local environment, you can develop a deep and personal connection to your surroundings that will infuse your art with a unique sense of place and meaning.

Join Michelle Belto and me in Ireland next July

It sounds rather unbelievable, even to us, but Michelle Belto and I are teaching a Celtic-inspired workshop on the West Coast of Ireland from July 22 – 29, 2023 at the beautiful Essence of Muranny Art School and hope you can join us!

We’ll be offering a new, collaborative encaustic and mixed-media workshop called Offerings to Aine (pronouced ‘aw-ne’). Aine is the Irish Fairy Queen and a legendary inspiration for artists and poets.

Each of us will be lead teacher on two of the four days of the workshop.

For my two teaching days, we will learn various creative fusions with wax, paper, fiber, and clay, constructing an enigmatic goddess figure that is inspired by Aine and wrapped with handcrafted grace and spirit. Using the Legend of Aine as a guide, our figures will be infused with Celtic myth and lore. During the two days of construction and experimentation with wax and mixed-media, participants will find inspiration that will enhance their own studio practice and mixed-media horizons. And the goddess figure of Aine will be your traveling companion on your journey home!

For Michelle’s two days, participants will be guided in a partial plein air approach to the landscape of the area on a cradled panel during the first day. This “sense of place” will honor the elements of Aine’s land and become the basis for a small altar to celebrate her magic. The process will continue as participants create a shrine-like opening in the panel. Found objects from the surrounding land can be attached as honored “relics” representing the places she protected.

As you can tell by the timeline, we will have extra days to explore the countryside with our host, Lora Murphy, award-winning encaustic painter and owner of the school.

Our time in Mulranny will be spent with 4 days in the classroom setting, plus additional time sightseeing with a well informed tour guide, evening entertainment with talented musicians, storytellers or surprise events. Beautiful coastal walks or Great Western Greenway bicycle rides are there for free time excursions. Accommodation is provided in rental cottages and houses nearby the school. Meals are enjoyed in local restaurants, guest houses and private accommodations.

YOU CAN LEARN MORE ABOUT THIS MAGICAL ART RETREAT HERE.

It may sound like an impossible dream at this point, but put it on your calendar. If you are worried about the cost, we have you covered – here is an Irish spell that will help you find money for those travel funds:

A charm to always have money

Take the feather of a black rooster, go to the crossing points of three fairy-paths, and while holding the feather and a gold colored coin, call the name of the Goddess Áine three times, to bring you everlasting prosperity.

And feel free to email me privately if you have specific questions – I really hope that you can come!

The Goats of Mulranny

 

 

Afterwords: Shards and Sand

After I posted “Shards and Sand” several days ago about our trip to the beaches of Normandy, so many of you responded with thoughts and memories about war and peace and humanity. Thank you.

In that post, I wrote, “Part of our duty as artists is to pass on tradition and preserve our cultural history in various formats, to express human emotion and help us all to feel hope and peace of mind.” My artist friend Pamela Ferguson, a wonderful poet and painter, sent this note with a poem she wrote which will speak to all of us.

“I was moved by your post/blog on Normandy, Lyn. I’ve been to France but not there. I can imagine the voices who whispered to you. I look forward to the art that comes from your experience. This poem wrote itself after I read your blog. I wanted to share it with you.”
Here is the poem, brilliantly composed by Pam from the point of view of a young soldier watching the incoming invasion. I superimposed the words on the photograph of a bunker at Pointe du Hoc in which he might well have been waiting.

Isn’t the power of artists inspiring each other amazing? I am so grateful to Pam for sharing this poem which I know will stay with each of you as is has with me, opening our minds and hearts.

Shards and Santos, Clay and Collage

Happiness is teaching in Taos!

A week from tomorrow, I’ll be at the Taos Ceramics Center working with students in my Shards and Santos Workshop. The class takes place on two consecutive Saturdays – here’s a description.

In this workshop, we will create personal assemblages inspired by these iconic figures of Santos. In the first class, we will construct handmade textured slab-based clay components such as heads, bodies, and enhancements. We will also learn to make hand-crafted clay press molds. These components will be fired once.

Here are some examples of assorted assemblage components that I’m taking with me – honestly, working in assemblage is just like working in collage, only a bit more dimensional:

Continuing the workshop description —

The next week, we will build our figure, incorporating found objects such as bones and shells and bleached twigs into the final assemblage and perhaps include cherished objects and hidden words. We will explore the limitless possibilities of cold finishes, such as metallics and beeswax, to enhance the surfaces of the unglazed earthenware.

These santos, below, are in progress, and I’ll use them to show how the components are put together.

Since we will not be glazing and re-firing the shard components, I’ve been experimenting with cold finishes for fired clay for the last couple of weeks.

One of the most successful combinations I’ve discovered is Pearl Ex powder by Jacquard mixed with Gamblin Cold Wax Medium.  You can control the translucency and the color saturation, then buff the wax finish. It’s exciting to see how well it works on bisqueware.

 

Another technique I’m playing with is tube acrylic paint mixed with a bit of cornstarch to dull the finish.

In the sample below, the acrylic mixture mimics the look of Gilder’s Paste at about half the cost and with less potential toxicity.

This kind of experimentation is part of the fun of planning a workshop. And then I get to share with new people!

I’m grateful to the Taos Ceramics Center for inviting me – and at this writing, there’s just one spot left, so if you need a quick get-away, come on up to the mountains of New Mexico!

 

Cuban love song

I loved exploring the joy of Cuban artist Jose Rodriguez Fuster‘s mosaic-covered “Fusterlandia”, a home, studio, and community in Havana

Cuba is a land of creativity, contradictions, and complexity. After eight days there, I’m still processing the experience, and probably will for a very long time. (Cuba is a photographer’s dream. To go directly to the photos in my Cuba Journal, take this link.)

Our small group tour included “people to people” interaction with many local artists, entrepreneurs, musicians, ecologists, schoolchildren and more during our travels four areas across the island.

Dance students in training at a no-cost government-supported arts school

We spent several days in Havana, which is celebrating its 500th birthday this spring. The city is a time capsule of transportation and architecture. Cuba is a country still deeply entrenched in a complex political situation. Nevertheless, innovation and invention are everywhere and the spirit of the Cuban people is inspiring.

On the street near Ernest Hemingway’s house

There are many helpful guides for Americans who want to travel to Cuba, and it’s important to read them before you plan a visit there. For over 50 years Cuba was essentially off limits to Americans thanks to a 1962 trade embargo that made spending money on the island tantamount to treason.

This all changed in 2014, when the Obama administration announced a reestablishment of diplomatic relations with Cuba. However, to quote travel guide Andrew Scott, “This opportunity will not last forever. The influx of foreigners is rapidly transforming Cuba’s economic and social realities. Meanwhile, political uncertainties in the U.S. make it impossible to know if the borders will remain open.”

I am so grateful that I visited Cuba when I did. For artists, it is rich with visual imagery – and Cuban artists are prolific and skilled, particularly in printmaking. I spoke to several of them about their processes and vision.

Two artist/educators discuss their work as professional artists

One thing we didn’t talk about was Decreto 349, a new decree by the Cuban government that criminalizes independent artists and places severe restrictions on cultural activity not authorized by the Ministry of Culture. You can read more about that here.

The Internet just become available in Cuba two months ago, and vendors were selling WiFi cards everywhere we went. It is going to be extremely interesting to see what effect that kind of global access produces.

I have a lot more reading to do about Cuba, but in the meantime, the photos from the trip continue to inspire me. Here are some of my favorites, presented in a photojournal on my website. I hope these digital snapshots express all the reasons why it’s easy to fall in love with Cuba and its people.

 

 

 

 

Marfa – and wax on black exploration

In the 1970s, minimalist artist Donald Judd moved to Marfa, Texas, where he created giant works of art beneath vast desert skies

I’m back from a week in West Texas and the beautiful Davis Mountains. One of the best parts of the trip was visiting Marfa and connecting with minimalist artist Donald Judd’s vision. There’s a great NPR article about this – click here. I love the quote by sculptor Campbell Bosworth“You just come out here and you feel like, I want to make something; I want to do something!”

Maybe it’s the minimalist influence, but it must be true. The Marfa getaway ignited my creative curiosity, and as soon as I got back, I went into the studio and started working in black and white on an experiment with black substrates and beeswax.

I wondered what would happen to the translucent layers of beeswax when they were applied over a dark background.

I used an absorbent black paper and added some white markings with different kinds of media – crayon, stamps, paint:

I added a layer of beeswax – it made it kind of glossy, and did penetrate into the paper, which had been a concern. You don’t want it to just sit on the surface of the substrate:

More experiments – black and white (and a bit of walnut ink):

Like all experiments, some of the techniques worked well, and some were definitely “learning opportunities.” But there is a certain potential for interesting effects that are both chalk-like and smokey. I am going to push these ideas a little further and see what develops (like old black and white film).

Now that I’ve been “Marfa-ized” and infected with some new ideas, it looks like I may be spending more time at the studio, perhaps even developing a wax on black workshop!

 

A few random things

RANDOM THING ONE: Monika is coming to San Antonio. Yep, the internationally know and loved Austin designer, Monika Astara, will be at my house on Saturday from 11-3.  If you’d like details, send me an email – the flyer is below.

I love Monika’s clothes – me and about a jillion other people. The make everyone look good, plus they are comfortable and washable and iconic.


RANDOM THING TWO: Remember the piece I showed in my last post on knowing when something needs more work? I did several more pieces based on what I learned while I was putting that one together. You can see them here on my website (click below) – they look like sisters from the same tribe.

All these pieces are going to Marta Stafford Fine Art in Marble Falls, Texas today, but I have clay in reserve to continue the series. Doing the beading is a lot more fun than I thought it would be, kind of meditative. The artificial sinew I use makes its own “needle” because it’s heavily waxed.


RANDOM THING THREE: This involves both earthenware and clothing – it’s a Waxed Linen Thread kit that came today – ordered on Amazon – (is there no odd craft supply that you can’t find there??). As I said, I used sinew to put those new clay pieces together, but wanted to try this waxed thread as a substitute. I’ve been playing around with it and am really happy with the way it feels. It’s very strong and would be useful for jewelers and fiber artists. And look at these cool colors!

There are 33 yards of each color on each spool, and the whole kit of eight spools cost just $9.99. That’s your Tip o’ the Day.


RANDOM THING FOUR:

If you go to Marble Falls, Texas, first visit Marta Stafford’s Gallery, then go up the hill to the Blue Bonnet Cafe, est. 1929. The menu will tell you it’s the real deal.Where else can you get a cup of gravy as a side order? But it’s the pies that bring people back. Just suspend thoughts of diet and order a slice. They even have a Pie Happy Hour from 3-5.

Those are all the Random Things on MY menu today – I hope you have a great week. Thanks for reading SHARDS!