Life after the Hoffman Challenge

all content © 2010 Elizabeth Ohlson

Every life episode, even every present moment, is for me a universe, not unto itself, but part of the entire galaxy of universes. So there is always a connection to the whole, but nearly every encounter, every experience is for me unique, complicated and fascinating, and I invest myself fully.


In a study group I participated in for twelve years, (EFM, Education for Ministry,) we examined microscopic slices of life, posing the question: What is life like in the world of ____? We would use a metaphor for the agreed upon thoughts and feelings to become this target world. If, from someone's experience, we began to look at emptiness and loss, for example, we might envision a metaphor such as "parched desert," or "crumpled love-letter." I like that one.


And then we'd probe what life is like in the world of a crumpled love-letter. The negatives might be: something is over, ended. It will never be the same. It represents a huge investment of emotion with changed, altered meaning. The positives in this world might be, assuming I crumpled it: that I am free to love something new (even though the old love is not obliterated, just "crumpled.") That I have already moved into a new world of experience (of which the old will always be a part--though its significance changes as time goes on, though it loses its power in most cases.) And so on.


I suppose many people would find this introspection rather tedious, but it is just this sort of wandering though focused meditation that describes, in part, one sort of mind that is drawn to the world of kaleidoscope quilting.


For the past several months I have lived in "The World of the Hoffman Challenge." Now my Trifecta III has been sent and received, and a new creation is underway. While I am no longer creating Trifecta III, it's effects are still with me. It taught me new things about color. I had thought that kaleidoscopes needed to be pulsating with vibrant color, but T III taught me that even pastels can flicker and shimmer and vibrate like a kaleidoscope. (So my understanding has been enlarged, and I LOVE understanding in a broader way!)


I never planned to belabor the number "3" when I named my first threesome "Trifecta." But I loved the sound of the word in connection with my three kaleidoscopes, and the names Trifecta II and III emerged naturally. And then, my brain always seeking order along with newness and beauty, began to contemplate "fourness" as my next step in kaleidoscope making.


(And so, not to be to predictable, the kaleidoscope I am working on will either be a part of "Quartet," the perfect name given to me by Nancy, or else a part of a galaxy of k's surrounding a completed k I have hanging on my design wall.)


After my Trifecta III--Hoffman Challenge was in the mail, I started four centers, four triangles of symmetrical fabric, and arranged them on my design wall. I hoped, as I developed them, that they would influence one another and inspire my subsequent choices.


And it was happening! That is, until company came, and I had to take down my design wall so as to prevent losing any of the pieces of my project(s) as the futon was folded and unfolded, bed made and unmade, pillows and people and suitcases and odds and ends moved in and out of my space.


The world of company had become my world for a while, and I loved it, but it changed the flow of my intuition and creativity. The previous beginning became a crumpled love-letter, and the old pieces were gathered up and the process started anew.

In any "World Of" in EFM, we would complete the theological reflection looking for "resurrection," or at least, "resolution" to life in that world. In my world of the Hoffman Challenge, resurrection was a feeling of accomplishment, a certain pride, relief at meeting the deadline, and an acceptance that my world does not depend on the Hoffman folks accepting my work. THAT, my friends, is truly resurrection for me!


In my current world of creativity, I am all of that which has come before, and also something virgin and brand new. I am discarding the metaphor of a crumpled love-letter, straightening it out, caressing it, and adding an eternal post script, ad infinitum.