Krista Bjorn, Book Author & Photographer, Tells Her Story

Navigating financial deserts is part and parcel of the artist life.

Sometimes our work sells beautifully and provides us with everything we need to pay for power, internet, and dinner out with dear friends. Other times we need to supplement with regular work to allow us to keep doing what makes our hearts sing. And now and then, life throws a curve ball where we don’t have enough money, work has dried up, and each day becomes a struggle to keep trying and cling to hope.

I went through that struggling stage this year.

I had finally built a great work/art balance and was so happy and excited about the future. Then a boss reneged on a contract, my new boss announced that my job would include sexual favors (I reported him), and the next boss disappeared, literally, the day I was to receive my first pay check (I reported him too).

Reporting those scoundrels felt good morally, but it was devastating financially. To go without a sufficient paycheck for one month is manageable, but for five? It was gutting. And stressful and scary and sad.

I knew I had a choice to make. I had no power over getting a new job or suddenly having enough money for all the bills piling up, but I had a choice in my attitude and in how I used that time.

So, I had a good cry, fumed about how unfair it all was, then took a deep breath, and a few more, and chose to make the most of it.

I planted gardens so we would always have something to eat, I cut back in every possible way to lower our monthly bills, I collected wheelbarrows full of weeds and grasses from the fields and gardens to keep our animals fed, and I applied for every job I could find. Then, I created.

I wood-burned spoons, cutting boards, and spatulas.


I harvested, dried, and blended herbal teas.

And I wrote and published two books: “herb & spice: a little book of medieval remedies” and “Desert Fire: medieval nomad food”.

I drew on my experiences as a medieval reenactor, and the years of research and experimentation I’ve done to make medieval medicines and medieval tribal food for demonstrations I give at festivals and schools throughout the year.

I spent weeks in my tiny kitchen slow-roasting lamb until it was fork-tender and moist with flavorful drippings, and pounding together dates, clarified butter, honey, and spices into beautiful spreads that never go off in the desert heat.

I simmered elderberries with spices and raw honey into a nourishing cordial that fortifies the immune system and helps stave off colds and flus, and mixed up innumerable herbal concoctions to soothe sore throats, calm upset stomachs, and ease headaches.

I taste-tested and arranged photo shoots, edited photos and wrote stories, histories, and recipes, designed the books, and finally, they were done, printed, and in my hands.

They’ve gone to new homes in Australia, Canada, and the United States, inspiring people with the creativity and ingenuity of our ancestors who always knew how to use fruits, vegetables, animals, and herbs to heal their ailments and provide the nourishment they needed to care for their families.

When I see them with my books now I feel so much warmth and love and gratitude, for their creation saw me through months of deprivation and stress, anxiety and grief, wondering if there would ever be light at the end of the tunnel again. They are the product of hope, the belief that if we keep doing the work, things will work out in the end.

Thankfully I have consistent work now, with editors who keep their word, pay on time, and treat me with respect and kindness. I’m slowly catching up financially, and give thanks every time I have enough money to cover a new bill. And I’m so proud that those dreadful months didn’t take me down, that, in the midst of loss and pain, I made something good and beautiful.

This is Week 34 of 52 Artists in 52 Weeks. Thank you for reading and sharing Krista's story today. To connect with Krista and see more of her work, please visit the following links:

Etsy: https://www.etsy.com/au/shop/RamblingTart

Blog: http://www.ramblingtart.com/

Instagram: http://instagram.com/ramblingtart

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ramblingtart

Good Reads: https://www.goodreads.com/ramblingtart

Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/ramblingtart/

LinkedIn: http://au.linkedin.com/in/ramblingtart

Tumblr: http://ramblingtart.tumblr.com/

Google+: https://google.com/+Ramblingtart

Twitter: https://twitter.com/ramblingtart

Krista Bjorn, Pyrographer, Medieval Folklorist & Writer, Tells Her Story

For most of my life I thought I was the only one in my family who wasn't artistic. My Dad did leatherwork and photography, Mum painted, crocheted, embroidered, you name it, my brothers could draw, build anything, and even sew. I always wished I could be an artist, it seemed like such an amazing thing to be, but I accepted what I thought was my lot in life and instead became a writer.

I wrote stories and poems, clues for treasure hunts, limmericks for friends. When I got older I wrote travelogues and magazine articles, newspaper columns and books, online pieces on food, medieval life, travel, and self-sufficiency.

I loved it, still do, but every time I went to a gallery or exposition I felt a longing for artistic expression and wondered if artists knew how lucky they were to be able to do what they did.

Then I had what my husband and I describe as the Great Darkness. Others might call it a breakdown, an undoing, depression, PTSD. Regardless of the label, all I knew was that everything in me crumbled and I was utterly lost and didn't know how to be found. All the darkness I'd been pushing down over the past two decades came in like a hurricane, forcing me to face it and deal with it.

And I did.

I faced the religious cult that abused and brain-washed me. I faced the molesters who thought it was OK to touch me knowing I was too broken to stand up to them. I faced the church that crushed my spirit and made me believe I was worthless and unlovable. I faced those who covered up the abuse or downplayed it because it made them uncomfortable and afraid. I faced all the shame and loss and betrayal and abandonment, and I grieved and raged and forgave and loved and somehow, amazingly, found the brave, loving, jolly, creative me that had been there all along.

During that time my husband, Bear, introduced me to the world of medieval enactment. It became a safe place for me to watch and learn and experiment as I faced the sad things and healed.

I got to research and  learn about medieval art and medicine, food and clothing, how they ate, lived, fought, loved, and believed. I went from not knowing much of anything to designing and making medieval clothing, building medieval furniture, and growing and harvesting fruits, herbs, and vegetables to brew medieval wine and make traditional foods and folk medicines. I tested, experimented, photographed, and documented everything, and last year published a book of medieval folk remedies.  I also learned wood-burning, known as pyrography, a medieval craft where hot metal is used to burn designs into wood. It is my happy place, a soothing, gentle craft that is almost meditative in its cadence. Whenever I'm stressed and anxious, a session of wood-burning never fails to calm me down, help me focus, and get me back on track.

Soon I was selling wood-burning and books at medieval events, markets, and online, and one day it hit me: I am an artist. I've always been an artist. I just needed to heal enough to make a safe place for my artist self to emerge. It makes me smile every time I think of it. I'm a photographer and writer, pyrographer and medicine-maker, recipe-developer and home brewer. In the end it all boils down to this: I love making things and sharing them with others.

I continue to write and take pictures and burn original images into wood. I'm working on a book of medieval Bedouin recipes, another on medieval spices, and am creating new designs to pyrograph. This year I hope to expand my wood-working skills by designing and making my own wooden implements and furniture to wood-burn.

My heart is full as I look back on all the goodness that came out of the Great Darkness.

This is Week 26 of 52 Artists in 52 Weeks. Thank you for reading and sharing Krista's story today. To see more of her work and to connect with her, please visit the following links:

Blog

Facebook 

Instagram

Etsy

Blurb Bookstore

GoodReads

Google+

Twitter 

Pinterest

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