Category Archives: creativity

Mantles of Transformation

In 2000, I was inspired by the Mantles Project displayed as part of the Fine Art of Fiber show at the nearby Chicago Botanic Garden. About 30 unique, colorful garments created by local women artists, each reflecting their spiritual/life journey. Awesome. I took many photographs and then the lines began in my head to the poem below. I used my photos as a watermark behind the poem and also read it to the group.

You can see these beautiful garments (https://www.womensjourneysinfiber.com/) at a new exhibit, Women’s Journey in Fiber Retrospective Exhibit at Lakeside Legacy Arts Park, 410 Country Club Road, Crystal Lake, IL, https://www.lakesidelegacy.org/ running Jan 4-22. (Curated by Jan Gerber) Don’t miss this extraordinary vibrant show!

I will be reading “Mantles of Transformation,” at the Artists Reception Jan 17 at 2-5 PM Come join us!

Mantles of Transformation

by Margaret Dubay Mikus

The clothes I wear define
the role I choose to play,
or choose without knowing a choice.
And if I wish to change my past
in the endless unfolding drama,

I naturally would change my garb.
I might buy an outfit that better suits
who I am becoming
or I might fashion with my own hands
a garment of my own devising.

I might think on it and meditate
and in the end just wait
until this mantle of transformation
slowly reveals itself to me….
And my hands begin, as my mind lets go,

to weave from all I know, using
threads from my past
and hopes from my future
and Divine breath with every suture,
all woven into my wondrous creation.

And once I have done it
I know I can
begin with a dream
and make it so I can hold it
in my trembling hands.

And once I have done it
I know you can too, create
a mantle to proudly wear
as you set your course
for a new destination.

We can weave all the love we are
into each moment, each hour,
all the kindness and compassion,
all the fire, longing and desire—
I’ve seen it done.

Thirty women met in a class last year
and began a course none knew well
to discover what lay ahead.
And together, with conscious intent,
each made manifest her heart’s desire:

a mantle of vivid color, pastels or black and white.
Of lace or silk, memory and mist, sweat and tears,
beads and buttons, laughter and determination.
As time went on, they helped each other
realize their lofty goal: to show themselves

and show their world, be it large or small,
a piece of their true magnificence,
remembering as they sewed or knit
what joy in pure creation.
And whether each mantle turned out

as originally envisioned was unimportant,
their lives changed as their hearts opened
and hands worked, each creation becoming
a thing alive, growing and evolving.
Each “baby” was then birthed in its own time,

with many midwives to assist
and encourage and breathe with the “mother’
and to admire each “baby” as it slipped out
and gave a first lusty cry.

Each mantle unique as each woman,
each story one of a kind.
Each mantle unique as her face, her vision,
her spirit, her voice, her life experience.

And it came to be that the mantles were displayed
in a location perfect to see them all and be inspired,
and then moved to another center of art and another….
Will the mantles go home or will they travel,
gallery art or wearing apparel?

Many doors are open, the future
limited only by imagination.
Where could these divine creations go
to spread their inspiration?
A book, on the radio, TV, or the web,

postcards, note cards, and who knows what.
Or the mantles might quietly return to their makers,
to cloak her, to be her flame and let her bask in
well-deserved glory. In the end we find:
it is not the destinations—

it is the journeys that most move us.

mantle: noun and verb

A loose sleeveless coat worn over outer garments; a cloak
Something that covers, envelops
Ornamental facing
Zone of hot gases around a flame
Sheath of threads that gives off a brilliant illumination when heated by flame
Cerebral
Layer of earth
Blast furnace above the hearth
Wings, feathers, and back colored differently from rest of the body
Fold or pair of folds
To spread or become extended over a surface
Covered with a coating, as froth
Overspread by blushes or colors

From American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language, 3rd Ed.,
Houghton Mifflin Company, 1992

Choice Point

It is a miracle! The blog “mechanism” allowed me to copy/paste from Word and post this poem! I forgot my past frustration and difficulties and started to put this poem in, then remembered that “It” hadn’t been allowing me to put even one letter from Word into this blog. Oh, do it anyway. Then!! Amazing!! It worked!!

Which means that I can again—easily—share my work on this blog. That light you see is the big smile on my face. As if the Universe is again aligned on my behalf. Silly, I know, but still…

I have been sharing this recent poem with friends, so I am sharing it with you too. As always, many things were swirling around that influenced this piece. Mary Jane is an interior designer (and lovely person) who is interested in healthy environments. I got to know her at the perfect time right before we were going to paint our house. Stephenie Meyer is the author of the very popular Twilight series, which I began reading when William Bloom, recommended them in an email newsletter and then my daughter asked me to read them with her. I already had the first book on my shelf. You know how sometimes you buy a book then it takes a while to actually read it? (Once I started, I gobbled all four of them up.) And finally, I noticed that I had recently met a number of men who were divorced and who struggled with that. This poem is dedicated to them. Of course it could be about any life-altering event.

10/17/09

From Mary Jane and Stephenie Meyer

For Ira, Bob, Geary and Eric

Something that shatters
pre-existing life structure
stretching out to the foreseeable future.

No restoration
of equilibrium
or the familiar,

the details
don’t matter:
a choice point where

all is divided into
before…and after
and darkness is the dominant color,

the decisive end…of what was,
the promising beginning…of what is:

verdant, vivid vibration,
riot of sensation,
vibrant colors of all description,

almost beyond bearing.

You get to the point
where you say this
lightening bolt that struck me

was the best thing
that ever happened.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2009

Remodeling

A poem written 9/5/9

Remodeling as a Transformative Device

(Better than Illness)

Every summer for a long time,
or often anyway,
illness has caught me—
serious enough to warrant
immediate concern
life-threatening even.

And all time was then divided
into before the diagnosis
and after it, life wiped
away as I had known it,
what had seemed important
became less than trivial.

Amnesia set in
about how things had been
and I couldn’t get back
to “normal.”
The process of healing
took the time it took

and the lessons came
and some stuck;.
some left until
the next time.
And on and on it went
with help coming at key moments.

I learned how to ask and receive.
I learned how to balance in chaos.
How to laugh at darkness.
How to let myself feel
and even cry in the presence of others.
And I wrote it all down:

the insights, the quest, the stories
that seemed to give meaning
to suffering, to healing.
Was there no other way
to transformation than
ripping off my skin

again and again?
Then, this summer:
remodeling—Let everything be different
than it had been. Let clutter
be cleared, past failures forgiven,
all belongings spread out,
nothing where it had been.

Ask: If I were moving,
would I keep this?
And as dusty carpet went out
and clean wood floors went in,
light came too, gleaming.
Kitchen cabinets refaced in rich cherry,

Santa Cecelia (patron saint of creativity)
and the name of our chosen granite from Brazil.
All that was worn and shabby
made new again.
Moving on without moving away.
Color, space, clean air,

promise, possibility, openness.
We can’t find our way back
to what was…
even it we wanted to.
Old habits are breaking
like how high to reach to answer the phone

or where to locate a pair of scissors or stamp or fork,
nothing is where it was,
all part of the 17 or 39 or whatever number
of changes in the environment to sustain
healing changes in me.

And the rest of the family?
Well, they are in the thick and thin of it too.
If they can be nourished
by all this,
if they can learn to function
without the usual foundation,

if they can be surrounded by and
immersed in energy for where they are going…
all the better.

From the Sky–Journey to New Mexico

For some reason, I cannot copy-paste text from a Word document into this blog (though that is what I did for the first 21 posts!). This makes it harder to put my poems here–tough to re-write everything. “It” will allow me to insert photos (thus the previous mask photos from a mask-making workshop at my first International Women’s Writing Guild conference at Skidmore College–and yes, that is my face).

So here are some pics from a trip to New Mexico last week. This combined business and vacation for my husband, but in my life there are no boundaries between “work” and “the rest.” I can write and take photos anywhere and to a high degree I am my healed self everywhere I go. It all flows together. The good thing is that I am enriched by it all. The hard thing is that with no boundaries it can be easy to get over-stimulated and over-extended, with insufficient rest.

These are two photos from the plane. (I always try to get a window seat.) On this trip I was struck by the awesome variety of clouds, some of which moved in fast layers over the others or some seemed to be planted in rows like seeds in a furrow or might part to reveal patterns on the earth below. More to come.