Tea With Ren

Being in the now....

2011-12-31T21:04:00.010-05:00

Trevor Allen; tech-geek, troll, music writer, roller-skating awesome oldest son.

Twenty-two years ago this very evening, I was in labor with my first child. He is a 6'4" man now. Yet always my baby. I had no concept of where this mothering journey would take me, nor could I see the faces of my babies not born. Lessons are best learned in the looking back, in the reflection. New Year's asks us to look forward.

I say stay in the now.

The view from here....

Not all of us will get to enjoy the entirety of 2012. Many will make resolutions that will be broken and further the cycle of negative feelings about self. Some will accomplish great things. But right here, right now is where the magic is.

Looking back helps us connect meaning. Looking forward is complete mystery, only to be disseminated in the looking back that is to come. Right here, right now, we have people who love us, changes to make, ideas to dream up and moments to be present for.

When I used to attend Unity, the constant phrase was "today is a new day". Good reminder. Every day, every moment is a chance for new. For being fully present for ourselves and our experience, for making mistakes and taking chances. Right here, right now.

In 2011 my soul mate moved in to my house and we became a family. In 2011 I worked harder than I ever have as a makeup artist. I didn't do enough art and writing in my opinion. I got a speeding ticket for the first time in 20 years. I questioned myself a lot. I dreamed more about traveling but didn't do much of it. I was mindful and mindless. I was too loud and probably didn't sleep enough. I met some amazing new friends and kept on falling in love with my old friends. I opened a studio with some other fantastic humans. My divorce was finalized and I had to face up to 22 years of ignoring some pretty important things.

I recently decided to start writing and doing more art again. Without resolutions or fanfare, without labels on what constitutes "enough" I am back at it. Because every moment I'm alive, I can begin again. And again. No mistakes, just "learning-takes". The only failure is to quit caring, to quit doing, to let fear hold us back.

So in 2012? I vow to keep being loud, to dream big and feel like I'm overwhelmed with them. To keep falling in love with people and places and my work. To start anew when needed. To cry and laugh and fuck up and do it all over again. I will keep on being me. Isn't that what the world really needs after all? More people awake, living fully.... willing to dream and do and BE.

My hope for humanity? That they will continue to inspire me. That if there is fear holding them back from some amazing, crazy, off-the-chain dream they will go after it anyway. That people will start to realize how important community is. That caring for this planet will become the norm. That all of us will slow down a little bit and let the pleasures of food, drink and friends be present. That colors and words will wend their way into all that we do. That the off-beat, unusual people will not have to face scorn or bullying. That all of us find a way to be more fully human with compassion. That differences will be cause for celebration, cause for learning, not cause for derision. That every day will be a new day.

Oh, and that a lot more people will recognize this truth: "what people think of me is none of my business!"

Happy New Years tonight and every night!! May all of your being embrace YOU.

Happy New Year from the Allen-Dixon clan!

Hello 2012

2011-12-29T19:18:00.003-05:00

I'm really good at finding interesting people. Sometimes I think that's my only true gift in life, is finding the amazing ones. They change the way I think, they inspire me, they make me look at myself differently and they help me grow into a better person.

Maybe that's why Danny Schmidt's "Company of Friends" speaks to me so thoroughly. I have good friends. I mean "good" as in amazing, talented, brilliant, vibrant....incredible. If I'm known by my company of friends, I leave behind a story worth telling.

That's what 2012 is about. It's about community and connections, it's about more deeply being with myself and taking my ideas and dreams seriously, without taking myself too seriously.

I started a group called Imagination Tribe in 2004 with a desire to connect with other artists, creative spirits and dreams. It served a purpose for me at that time, to open up to my artist side in a new way. As the group evolved it became more of an art trade group and I found myself needing something different, something more.

So in 2012 Imagination Tribe is going back to the original intent. The original intent of connecting with like-minded, free-thinking, creativity-seeking, learning, growing people. The original intent of nourishing a need within for not only forming with words and colors but forming community around it. The original intent and beyond.

Because the further I travel in this life, the more I meet people with some deep-seated need they are not expressing and I'm realizing how many of us need community at a time when the world is both losing and gaining access.

In the wee hours of the very first day of 1990, I became a mother. My sweet first born turns 22 next week and I can feel the waves of change in my life. The restlessness that has always existed for me, is still there. The struggle between growing deep into a community or flitting about like a gypsy is still there. Thankfully, my children have been patient with me....

Imagination Tribe is a way to honor all of it. To bring together, to unite, to grow a creative spark into a flame. I hope that a few of you will join me, I hope that a few of you will inspire me yet again to trust that struggle, to trust those urges. 2012 is about change for me. Not the kind of change that huge transitions bring into your life, but the kind of change that is about emergence.

Hello 2012, I'm going to enjoy getting to know you.

Imagination Tribe......

Community. Concepts. Paying forward. Creation. Melding words. Growing. Creating. Honoring diversity. Gathering. Talking. Laughing. Reaching out. Serving. Challenging. Discussing. Getting uncomfortable. Walking to the edge. Pushing. Birthing. Evolving. Inspire. Unite. Emerge.

Spinning inward....again.

2011-12-28T22:25:00.003-05:00

This season has been difficult for me, many years now. The darkness seems to reflect the inner workings of my moods and transitions. This season highlights loss.

I don't know if it was the death of my mother, or the death of relationships and trust that started this turning inward, this movement with the winter rhythm. I seem to pull back as the trees lose summer vibrance, going dormant as cold folds itself into hills.

The feelings of loss, of sadness come and go. Mostly I'm too busy with life and children to pay it much heed. But it sits, waiting for a moment to surface.

It surfaced yesterday. It surfaced after two days of feeling on edge. It surfaced in tears and hopeless feelings and anger. Facing yourself in that state is difficult. Facing yourself with compassion is even harder....being given compassion during that darkness is a gift. Keith knows how to give that gift and for that I am deeply grateful. Ever have I walked this path alone, until now.

I've been dreaming about Mom and old houses. Old houses come and go from my nights since I can remember. There is something about the convergence of past and future in those dreams, though I can't quite grasp what they are telling me.

Christmas brings a lot of the dark to the surface. I'm sure it has to do with all those Norman Rockwell celebrations we had as children and the reminder that it will never exist again. Loss.

I turn inward, toward reflection and even in this dark, in this night, I sense another awakening. There are so many magnificent events unfolding in our lives, so much gratitude and beauty. And that's really what this post is about. How the dark must exist to make room for the light. How embracing loss, embracing the terribly difficult seasons of night are part of the beauty. How hurt and shadow and sad are not something to be avoided.

I'm not talking about wallowing or ignoring symptoms of depression. I'm talking about opening ourselves to all of the experiences we face, even when it's hard. I'm talking about facing them and learning from them. I'm talking about not glossing over the hurt or sad or night with fake joy, platitudes or new age hoo-ha.

There is a Zen peace I get from being with the grief rather than denying it. I am at one with my winter world, void of brilliant colors with growth silently, gently urging itself from the deep.

Found a journal entry from November of last year where I wrote: "Sunshine, wind and Appalachian hills bordering this day....children in transition, my spirit torn--never sure if there is a home for me here. I watch the trees dropping leaves, feel the freeze coming and I dread the season of dark, of turning inward. Spiraling inward seems like too much of a risk now. I want to run, to hide, to go where nobody knows me and there are no responsibilities. Children, money, the life I chose keep me here--but there are days I dream of my cabin in the woods....."

There was my "aha" moment, that clarity that only looking back can give. This is the season of dark, of dormant, of quiet growth and of facing loss. But it is only a season. It's importance to my artist spirit can not be denied. I welcome the dormant, the quiet, yes even the cold. For within it is the key to awakening for me. Awakening and awakening and awakening......again and yet again.

This time I am not alone. This time I have not only a mirror but someone to walk the dark with me, without getting sucked into it's insatiable hunger. This time I know it is only a season and we are not defined by the seasons of our lives as much as grown by them.

Seeds will be purchased soon, garden plans made. The house is facing some changes too.....for too long it has been dormant as well.

Awaken, awaken and awaken. Once again.

I am happy, I am grateful, I am not alone. But I never really was after all.

Occupy your mind....standing for the people.

2011-10-13T00:52:00.012-04:00

There are many claims being flung about casually, about the "average" Occupy Wall Street protester and those who support the movement. Many of them center around the notion that protesters are "lazy, jobless, young" and "looking for a handout" or desirous of "entitlements". I can not explain my personal stance repeatedly so this post is something I plan to direct people towards when needed.

I'll begin with introducing myself, since there isn't much of an "average" OWS protester and I have met so many diverse people from all walks of life through this process. I want to make it abundantly clear that I speak for myself, for my own views and not for any group in this post.

I am a business owner: I have been a makeup artist for over a decade and I work in a shared studio space as an artist and an assistant photographer. I also work full-time for a large corporation that is generous to it's employees and socially progressive. I am a mixed-media artist, teaching classes on art and makeup. I have four amazing children and have been homeschooling since 1996. I am passionate about gardening and self-sufficiency. I embrace hard work, do not believe I am entitled to anything in this life and plan to work until the day I die.

First, the accusations that the spin-doctors are successfully convincing people of:

OWSers are "jobless, looking for a hand-out"

Anecdotal evidence here; my ex-husband tried to find a job for three years and could only get minimum wage, temp work. This is a man who went to college, owned a business, was a sales manager and top salesperson at the last company he worked for before going into real estate. I have friends in their 40's now who are back in school, going into debt because that's the best option right now. There is story after story of people trying HARD to get jobs...there aren't enough jobs when big corporations are willing to send those jobs overseas as well as using slave labor in developing countries!!

Being jobless does not automatically make a person a non-contributor in society. Since when did not having a job make someone unable to have a voice? Or help make positive changes? When is that a factor in deciding who has a right to political process? Larry King filed bankruptcy in the past and lost his job. Susan Boyle was jobless and caring for her mother at home at one time. Many, many writers and artists and other creative types find themselves in the "jobless" category throughout phases of their lives. SO what?

The other variation on the "jobless" theme is that they are "young people looking for a hand-out"

Two false-hoods at once? Cool! So let's go with the notion that most OWSers are "young". This is a problem how? I can't stand ageism. Young people have often been the cause of great and significant change. Young people in this country are locked in compulsory schools for 13 years of their precious lives, told they can't contribute anything of value, not allowed many freedoms most adults take for granted and then we are going to devalue them when they are actually standing up for their country? Standing up for what they believe in? Showing they are NOT the mindless, tv-watching, lazy Americans they are accused of being....then they get ageism flung at them again? REALLY? The young people I've met are articulate, intelligent beyond their years, willing to work hard, able to motivate an entire movement and they are being mocked? This is hard for me to stomach. Kudos to them for their motivation and energy. Our country has a chance in hell if they are the next generation.

It's interesting how disrespectful the older generations can be to our youth when they have something important to share or ideology aimed at change, yet not think twice about sending them into war to die "for our country".

Beyond that, there is more diversity at these protests and events than the press would lead you to believe. Don't trust everything you see on television. Maybe watch some of the live streaming and find out for yourself what is really going on. You aren't required to watch the bias in mainstream media....we can all report and be the media these days.

On to the "looking for a hand-out" portion:

If the protesters are asking the government for ANYthing, then it is not at all a hand-out in the sense that our tax dollars pay for it. Big banks and other industry got a huge hand-out in the form of the bail-out dollars and that's ok?? So a hand-out for giant mechanisms that don't use sustainable business practices is ok but individuals needing anything can go screw themselves? There is so much wrong with that I don't know where to start.

As a society we choose what tax dollars pay for. If we want those tax dollars to go to things like, oh, say education rather than war, this is some socialist/extremist/anarchist plot??? I'm a Mom. I'd like to have my kids get access to higher education more than I'd like them sent over to a foreign land we have no business in, to die for some corrupt government scheme. Many of us see problems with where the tax dollars are being spent. As a group, we can decide where that money should go, rather than trusting corrupt politicians. As a society, we have already decided that we want police and firefighters and a military. If anything linked to government money is a "hand-out", then let's cut those programs and see how well that goes over!

Most individuals actually needing a hand-out are people struggling terribly. As someone who has been on welfare in the past and found my way through troubled times, I am deeply bothered by the mean spirit and hatefulness toward anyone wanting some help. It's a nice thought that those people would get the help they need from their immediate communities but history has not shown that to be true. Most people don't want a hand-out forever...they want a chance.

Why shouldn't we, as a people, decide that education is more important than killing? That tax dollars are in our power to decide how to spend, that anything coming from the government is not truly a "hand-out" but a choice of how to spend our tax dollars for the collective good?

I don't know about you, but I'd like a voice in how those tax dollars are spent. I don't want to bail out unsustainable businesses. Which brings me to the accusation....

"You want to end capitalism"

It is not capitalism to finance businesses that have run themselves into the ground with shoddy practices. It is not capitalism to give a hand-out to companies that don't conduct their business profitably. It is capitalism to allow them to fail.

In the past, unregulated capitalism has led to horrendous treatment of employees, massive pollution and in this day and age, a recession that is teetering on the brink of a full-scale economic collapse. The evils of unregulated capitalism is a great look at the issues surrounding this topic. If unregulated capitalism works, then PLEASE, please, please show me one example of a developed country in which this has been a success for more than a few decades. Just one example. You can't. Because humans tend to be greedy and power-hungry people don't make great decisions for the entire society. The past 30 years have proven this.

So where is the dellusional, hateful attitude towards OWSer's originating from? Probably people like Glenn Beck who championed the bail-outs before speaking against them once he landed on Fox News. He also spoke out against Wall Street "largesse" at one time. Why are you suddenly taking a different stance Glenn? Ah, nevermind.

Limbaugh himself was against the bail-outs that were begun by George W. Bush and continued by Barack Obama. So it seems that we do indeed have some similar ideas, even if it is distasteful for me to admit that. I only say that because of the hatefulness and divisive attitude that most opinion/entertainers on Faux News like to create. But then, it makes them money.

As a protester in support of Occupy Wall Street, I only speak for myself. I say the bail-outs were the most socialist thing this country has ever done,
~ that it is not "socialist" to choose where our tax dollars should go (yes, even if it is to higher education)
~that the money needs to be taken away from politics,
~that our young people are very well our hope (the older generation has fucked it up pretty good, dontcha think?),
~ that big corporations should be held accountable for their actions and how they affect the populace (yes, it is your fault if you dump mercury in the river and people start getting cancer from it) and that it is time for the people to rise up and demand a government FOR the people and BY the people.

When our forefathers wrote the Declaration of Independence, they understood this all too well:

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. — That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, — That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness.

Notions such as these are our only hope....but it may still be too late.

All images used in this post were taken by Teri Butler Dosher at the Occupy Johnson City solidarity event in TN on October 15th, 2011.

Peace

2011-05-30T18:07:00.005-04:00

There is a quiet that comes as the sun gets low in the sky here. I'm feeling like a mama duck these days, as the ducklings follow me around the yard while I do chores and into the garden to nibble on lettuce. They're starting to quack instead of peep. It's rather amusing to look behind and see those three, running as quickly as their unwieldy built-for-water bodies and webbed feet will allow.

The hush that comes in the evening is my daily peace. Cool air melts down through the center of our property in the low-lying areas and crickets start their thrum. Birds are making their last run to the feeder and I sit thinking about what a great life this is.

The kitchen garden is in full swing, the lower garden moves closer to revival and plans for a third garden area are brewing. Thinking about the unlikely odds that we would return to this house, in this manner, with this timing cause me to smile at the absurdities in life.

One of the apple trees did not survive last winter, the long winter for me. It will burn in the solstice bonfire along with the tulip poplar that came down in a storm not long after I moved away from this place.

Keith and Trinity are in Columbia closing out their time in that city, closing out an era of their life, saying goodbye to his past and packing up what is needed for the now. It's been a year of endings and beginnings for all of us. What Keith and I are building in the here and now is reviving many parts of our spirits that had been lying dormant and silent for too long.

I sat with Jalen as he fed the ducks lettuce from the garden last night. Peach glow of sun washed the tree tops as we sat on newly mowed grass, tired and happy from a day of friends, water and sun. I was utterly and completely content in that moment. I've heard it said that there are two kinds of people in the world; those who are content and those who are not. I'm not. Not usually. By "content" I mean "in a state satisfaction, not wishing for more"....because I always want more. More experiences, more learning, more travel, more ideas, more LIVING. I don't want more stuff, I want more from the days I have left on this spinning ball.

Because of that, those moments of complete and utter satisfaction don't come as often, I'm thinking about the next thing, the next project, the next chore, the next plan.

So to sit with my son, and be utterly and totally satisfied with my life and where I am in every way, felt so very peaceful. So many life experiences caused me to depend on myself, to crave independence and never wait around for somebody else to rescue me. Those are useful traits in my book, but sometimes I forget to slow down and savor things enough. To really be in the now fully. I live in my head and the now is hard to meet there.

All paths....

2011-04-25T12:55:00.004-04:00

I was sick for the last three weeks, not slowing down or allowing myself to rest very much had finally caught up with me. The place I feel rested and at peace is in the garden, always. I am back in my home, back in my garden and the world is right once again.

As I cleared the last of the debris from the kitchen garden last week my thoughts swirl in and around ideas and the path to the reality I'm living now. Words by the great poet Stanley Kunitz flit through and I find myself alone with my thoughts. It is the place I find grounding and stillness.

There was the vibrant greens of lettuce and swiss chard in the center as I scraped and cleared weeds. The white bones of last year's tomato plants stared up from moist dirt reminding me that all paths lead to death. So many circles come full in the garden and one can not ignore life, death and rebirth. They are always close.

I have felt the struggle of death and re-birth as I reclaim this land and the life I love. The pain of goodbye hangs near, like the rich compost that becomes part of the new. Stanley's words bring tears to my eyes:

"The heart breaks and breaks
and lives by breaking
it is necessary to go through
dark and deeper dark
and not to turn "

I have felt like turning. I have learned to just take the next step when I couldn't figure out for the life of me where I was going or how to do anything. Sometimes just taking the next small step in the dark of night can get you to the other side. Sometimes the dark of night is just fodder for the garden. The death that breathes new life. Let the dark and death do their job....this is what I've learned. Because the garden is always there, maybe covered in weeds and hard to see. But it's there...waiting.

The children I've grown, the herbs and plants and bees and pets I've nurtured, they will all face their death too. Let today breathe new life and the deaths we create be meaningful. This is my wish.

I have my garden, I have love, I have beautiful children to share the sunshine of today with. I have three ducklings just starting their life/death journey, I have shelter for all of us and it is enough. More than enough. Stanley would understand.....

"When you look back on a lifetime and think of what has been given to the
world by your presence, your fugitive presence, inevitably you think of your
art, whatever it may be, as the gift you have made to the world in
acknowledgment of the gift you have been given, which is the life itself...
That work is not an expression of the desire for praise or recognition,
or prizes, but the deepest manifestation of your gratitude for the gift
of life."
— Stanley Kunitz

Rabbit Hole Studios

2011-03-13T10:40:00.002-04:00

My latest art adventure is being archived over at a new blog, "Down the Rabbit Hole" an extension of "Rabbit Hole Studios". This is the joint art created by Keith and myself (the aforementioned soulmate) and will include art exhibits, projects and the birth of our art co-op eventually.

Just put information up about "Semiotic Imaginings", our very first art show together and the opening reception that will take place April 1st. Come on over and check it out....we have a lot of ideas brewing that will come to light both at the blog and in real life. Come down the rabbit hole with us....the journey should be interesting!!

Deconstruction and reclamation

2011-03-10T16:16:00.005-05:00

Sometimes you reclaim your life with big choices, large shifts that ripple outward indefinitely. Sometimes it's in something as simple as a Sam's Club membership or calling the dentist to tell them your ex is no longer on your insurance.

Those were my moments this week. My moments of detanglement that let my spirit breathe a little lighter, let me release more of the past with all it's curled up tendrils wending their way through my life in ways I can't predict.

I tried to remove Bleu from my Sam's Club membership and they explained that I couldn't do it, because he was the primary signer. So I removed myself and paid for a new membership. One with "Faces by Ren" as the business and it made me smile. "Mine" can have such power, even for a person who craves community.

We're signing papers this week and I didn't realize a year ago, just how good it would feel to get to this point. I thought I would be more sad....but mostly I'm just relieved. It's bittersweet of course. I can't help but wonder why I used so many years trying to put energy into something that ultimately would not nurture me or nurture family connections.

The most interesting part of this process was meeting my soulmate. Nothing I had planned or even thought I desired. What a journey it's been though. I am constantly amazed at the rich texture life takes on when you're traveling with a kindred spirit, one for whom I do not have to explain "why" or "how". One who nurtures all facets of me and accepts the dark. Someone I can be fully myself with and grow as an artist and a human.

I stated very clearly that I did not want to "date"....and I haven't. But neither did I plan to pick up the pieces of my deconstructed life with such an amazing partner and friend. I went down the up-path. We're building a future that looks pretty darn interesting. A future that includes (but never limited to) building that hobbit house and opening an art co-op...dreams that lay dormant far too long for both of us.

There is a joy in destruction, a cleansing that happens when one let's go and dives into the deep end. I'm ready to build again though. Build and dream and do....with a life partner that wants to do the same.

This week I reclaimed my life with the simple act of a Sam's Club membership. Next week? Well who knows. But for now I am content.

What is:

2010-08-16T10:17:00.006-04:00

The end of a 21 year marriage...that's what "is" in my life at the moment. In many ways, this is just the evolution of our relationship. A new phase in which we will co-parent from separate households and learn how to work together as friends that are not a couple any longer.

People get upset when they hear this news...natural reaction I suppose. But as hard as this transition is, I feel the "rightness" of moving towards having my own place. We've had some major disconnects over the last two decades and I've been on my own before. This is not anything new for me, it just feels more final this time.

Riding the waves of sadness, of guilt (mainly for how this could affect my beautiful children who deserve nothing but the best in this life) of looking forward rather than back, of the lovely openness of facing the unknown and the relief of stretching my wings. In this moment, I am happy...happy and grateful for the learning that has happened over the 21 years we've been (mostly) together.

We are both different people than when we started out. Different for the better and I wish only the best for Bleu. I want to see us both thrive and support each other. That shouldn't change just because people can't be together. Our children will come first, our commitment to nurturing them is the top priority for both of us. I can hear the naysayers now...that in order to do that we must stay together. I disagree. I'm ready to be a single Mum and stay that way.

Looking forward to this new journey in my life and cradling the past gently, near my heart but living for this day and the adventures it holds for me.

Thank you Bleu, for your friendship and love, for the good and bad memories and for trying to understand such a complicated soul. We walk forward into a different phase of our relationship and I'm glad to share the ride with you.

**What I don't need right now: ~~A million questions about how/why etc... I don't want to repeat my relationship story to everyone, if you know me well, you already have the facts.

~~Unwarranted sympathy....I'm ok. Truly and honestly. Yes, I will get sad at times and maybe even be weepy. I don't need mushy sympathy, I have been on my own before and actually LIKE it.

~~Being set up on dates...that is the LAST thing I want. I plan to stay happily single the rest of my life. Thank you for your concern and all, but I am not that person who is unhappy being alone.

**What I do need right now: ~~Anyone who might be willing to help me clean or sort, to get this house ready to sell.

~~Friends to hang out with.....trips to the river, camping, walking downtown, roller skating etc.. are welcome activities.

~~A vehicle and a place to live. Yes, I know nobody can give those to me, but information on leads are appreciated. I am making the only income in the household right now and it is not sufficient for this many people. Grateful for any information that will help me move forward inexpensively!

♥♥Much love to all my amazing friends and family!! I know I will need you more than ever and your support means the world to me.♥♥

Second Chance Farm

2010-06-16T12:06:00.003-04:00

As one torn between worlds of earth and air, it's never easy to find a middle ground. A place where all of the interests mesh. So I've learned that meshing isn't so important as finding a space for all of it.

The farming life has called to me since I was a little girl visiting my Grandparent's farm. I've come to realize that the idea of a farm is pretty idealistic. The reality is just plain grit and determination, combined with a restlessness and calm that are hard to describe.

In searching for my way to this farm life, without my family being on board, I have managed to carve a space. A space that feels safe, that challenges me to do more, a space that calms some inner desire to be close to my food sources and know the face of my food.

I'm only there about once a week right now. Hoping to add more as my hectic life schedule faces some transitions. I leave my work days at the farm with aching body, grimy skin, a basket full of riches from the earth and a sense of calm that can be rather evasive at times.

Thank you to Heather for giving me this space and for patiently sharing and showing the way. The girl is a pint-sized powerhouse. It's unbelievable what plain-vanilla grit and determination can yield. The spirit of hard working farm people from generations past, is alive and well...believe me. I'm grateful to witness it and looking forward to many farm adventures and learning.

I'm learning many things that will alter my own home garden and growing methods. Step by step I move closer to my farm dreams....

Laying the drip line

Can you see a tired dog trying to find a bit of shade there?

Her draft horses are so beautiful...the smell takes me back to childhood.

Hand raised chickens are soooo friendly!

Farm help comes in many forms...

Silkies!

Letters to the dead have their own space now!

2010-03-21T00:27:00.000-04:00

If you want to keep up with Letters to the Dead, please check out the new blog! All future letters will be posted there and all letters posted here have already been moved to their new home. See you there!

December 12: New food

2009-12-12T10:20:00.003-05:00

December 12 New food. You're now in love with Lebanese food and you didn't even know what it was in January of this year.

Not a new food, but a new restaurant.

I have several places I like to eat, though we don't eat out very often. My newest fave is "The Noodle House" in Asheville. Reasonable prices, fresh and interesting dishes, lots of choices without the ingredient that goes through rigor mortis first.

Sierra and I had a day in Asheville to ourselves recently. The Noodle House is a very small corner restaurant, snugged into a busy street. We blew in to an empty space, a warm haven from the cold and by the time we left it was packed with fellow travelers. The tofu is crispy on the outside and chewy on the inside, the plum sauce is pure perfection and the soups warm you to the toes of your soul. Yum........

December 11: The best place

2009-12-11T10:06:00.002-05:00

December 11 The best place. A coffee shop? A pub? A retreat center? A cubicle? A nook?

Malaprop's.

Malaprop's where I can get a real, ceramic mug of refillable, super-yummy coffee. Malaprop's where there are cozy corners to hide and read. Malaprop's where anti-Walmart stickers and other anti-establishment type posters abound. Malaprop's where the staff are as diverse as the customers, it's warm and inviting, they host many local authors (like Patti Digh!!) and I feel my spirit relax into the flow of books and conversation.

Yes, yes....Malaprop's is my favorite hide-out as of late.

December 10: Album of the year

2009-12-10T23:05:00.005-05:00

December 10 Album of the year: What's rocking your world?

At first, I was thinking that I should pick something that was released this year....but then I realized the challenge is simply asking what rocked my world this year. So I go back to Bright Eyes. Again and again I listen to "I'm Wide Awake It's Morning". It inspires art and words and helps me deal with internal angst in ways nothing else can. Thank you Conor Oberst.

I feel understood,

Now I’m hunched over a typewriter
I guess you call that painting in a cave

I've found a kindred spirit,

I’ve been sleeping so strange at night
Side effects they don’t advertise
I’ve been sleeping so strange
With a head full of pesticide

and all my frustration with the world is captured oh, so, well.

But greed is a bottomless pit
And our freedom’s a joke
We’re just taking a piss
And the whole world must watch the sad comic display
If you’re still free start running away
Cause we’re coming for you!

Yes, even with James and U2 and Amy Steinberg and Tom Petty and David Bowie and Nirvana and even some Black Eyed Peas (and the list goes on and on)....I still find myself reaching for Bright Eyes most frequently. The last CD I got was at Christmas time, their new release for 2007 was Cassadega and I remember listening to it and thinking "Wow, Bright Eyes grew up". :)

There's still nothing quite like the folksy, haunting sound of Emmy Lou Harris backing up Conor;

We are nowhere, and it’s now
You took a ten-minute dream in the passengers seat
While the world it was flying by
I haven’t been gone very long
But it feels like a lifetime

December 9: Challenge.

2009-12-09T23:27:00.005-05:00

December 9 Challenge. Something that really made you grow this year. That made you go to your edge and then some. What made it the best challenge of the year for you?

There are many things I could write about here, but I'm going to keep this simple and not delve into the difficult stuff....like how I'm still learning to let go of people who are willing to use me or my talents and not be honest or decent. How I tend to assume the best in people and believe their words even when their actions don't back up the words. But I won't....

Because a really fun thing that helped me grow so much as an artist this year is body painting. I've done several shoots now and helped put together a very successful body art show. I love creating art on the human canvas and as my confidence grows, so do my ideas and abilities.

Look out 2010! You are my year.....

December 8: Moment of peace

2009-12-09T23:00:00.007-05:00

December 8 Moment of peace. An hour or a day or a week of solitude. What was the quality of your breath? The state of your mind? How did you get there?

A moment of peace is a great way to describe how I get centered. Because I'm not the most peaceful person.....I thrive on energy, on movement and being busy and having several projects at once. Though peace can be found in the busyness as I've learned.

I find peace in my children's play, in the way they interact and find joy in their own lives. As the observer of their living and learning I find many moments of reflection and peace, a Zen state of mind and an awareness of my own connections in those moments.

I find peace in cozy bookstores corners, alone and with others. Quiet books and sips of coffee are a good place for peace to reside.

I find it in my drives to Asheville as I go up and over the mountains, in and out of sunshine and clouds, through memories and dreams.

I find peace in the documentation of life, in my writing, art and photography. I love to see life through different lenses and try to capture moods, ideas and moments. That is my practice, that is my constant and my moments of peace.

December 7: Blog find of the year

2009-12-07T12:44:00.004-05:00

December 7 Blog find of the year: That gem of a blog you can't believe you didn't know about until this year.

I can't really write about this without mentioning Patti Digh's 37 Days blog, even though I found it three years ago. I began my online relationship with her blog in '06, and spoke with her about death and the ongoing relationship of those who are no longer with us. In Forever Hold Your Penguin Dear she touched me deeply and I responded with my own blog about death and the dying process; On Living and Dying.

I don't have much time to keep up with blogs anymore. I love blogs and posting to my own but with work and other distractions I don't get to sit and read enough.

I'm going to give kudos to my friend Frank's blog, "Blog of the Zombie Princess" because he's funny and cynical (traits I admire) and smart and he has a really, really awesome family who are every bit as lovely as he and he's doing this damn December challenge with me. That's all. OH, and his blog is named after their ship which was harbored in N'awlins for some time. They understand the South and the Gulf and hurricane season and for that alone I have an affinity for them.

Correction: Ronnie's (Frank's witty and lovely wife) blog is "Blog of the Zombie Princess" and Frank's is "Singularity".

December 6: Workshop or conference

2009-12-06T10:30:00.008-05:00

December 6 Workshop or conference. Was there a conference or workshop you attended that was especially beneficial? Where was it? What did you learn?

Life is Good in Vancouver Washington, where I both attended and presented. I learn so much every time I get together with other unschoolers, not from the talks so much but from being present with the children and from discussions that flow around and through and over me.

My children continually help me learn how to stay present, stay connected even in the difficult moments. At conferences there is a lot of noise, fun and spontaneous ideas that swirl up. There are also overwhelmed people and negotiating and trying to simultaneously meet a variety of needs. It's not easy at times.

Being around other unschoolers helps me examine things more deeply, go beyond the surface and not rely on the tools I learned growing up. At Life is Good I got to listen to my nephew (who has chosen school) speak for the first time publicly. As the person who first encouraged my sis to look beyond school it warmed my heart to hear him share his journey as an unschooler. I learned more about him as a young man choosing his path, sharing his ideas.

I learn from watching the teens interact, share their stories and talk about their parents. I learn from the parents sharing their fears and talk about their children. I learn about myself and the depths to which I can grow as a parent. I love being around groups of unschoolers for these and many other reasons.

I also learn that I get overwhelmed easily at these events, that I sometimes try too hard and don't know when to hide. I am reminded that connecting to my own needs is important too....and that my children need me more than the rest of the world ever could. :)

Life IS good!

December 4: Book

2009-12-05T01:04:00.004-05:00

December 4 Book. What book - fiction or non - touched you? Where were you when you read it? Have you bought and given away multiple copies?

Last year, I was sitting outside of Malaprops waiting for friends. It was post-Live and Learn conference and we were hanging out with people, wandering Asheville and having fun. I sat in front, pondering some deep things about life and relationships and other unmentionable things when I looked straight into the front window of the book store.

There it was. Patti Digh's "Life is a Verb" on display right up front. The cover was artful and everything I thought it would be. I had read her lovely blog for a while and knew there was a book coming, but something about the timing and seeing it there in front of me was like a very loud message to my heart.

I sat in front of Malaprops and started to cry. It was bringing up all these feelings about my own writing and having ignored too many dreams for too long. It was a wake-up call before I even opened a page.

Later, Patti came to our ARGH gathering at Roan Mountain in March and I finally bought the book. It's full of wisdom and inspiration, art and colorful, heartfelt stories. After her reading and signing at Roan mountain I came home and blogged about things it stirred up.

I've purchased copies for two of my sisters and one for a stranger. I don't know who that stranger is and I'll probably never know....I just asked the folks at Malaprops to give it to the next person who asked about her book. I hope they love it as much as I do.:) I've got more copies to give away, it's just that kind of book.

December 3: Article

2009-12-03T18:54:00.005-05:00

December 3 Article. What's an article that you read that blew you away? That you shared with all your friends. That you Delicious'd and reference throughout the year.

Not one article, but several by the same person. Peter Gray is quite brilliant if you ask me (and come to think of it, you DID) and he's written so many great articles now, I don't even know which one I love the most. His blog, Freedom to Learn is even close to the name of one of my other blogs.

Seven Sins of Our System of Forced Education is one of the top, but go check them all out. He's a psychologist and truly interested in how children learn naturally and the importance of play, topics near and dear to my own heart.

Speaking of which, I've been posting my old articles written for Connections Ezine over at my Learning in Freedom blog.

Happy reading!

December 2: Restaurant moment

2009-12-02T11:10:00.011-05:00

It started with noise and running amuck on the streets...shadowy memories following us under the streetlight's glare.

And ended at Mid-City grill in warmth of kindred spirits, happy children and an endless stream of food.

~~December 2 Restaurant moment. Share the best restaurant experience you had this year. Who was there? What made it amazing? What taste stands out in your mind?~~

There was a night of visiting friends in September. The Traaseth's had come up from Georgia and we met up with lots of other friends down at First Friday in Johnson City. After traipsing around downtown, laughing, talking, wandering in and out of art and music, some of us headed for Mid-City grill.

This is a late-night place. An artsy, eclectic gathering place that opens at 11pm and stays open all night. They have a casual, yet inspirational menu; things like deconstructed veggie burgers, handmade fries and ample flavors of cheesecake.

There were three families in all (Traaseth, Bowman and Allen), eight children and six adults that expanded over two tables. I remember laughing so hard my gut ached. When they brought the $3.50 plate of fries we all just about keeled over. It was a dinner plate (large one at that) mounded high with fries. Enough for, oh, about FIVE people.

What is joy? A group of people who have bonded together like family. Children who adore each other and sit at a table of mounded, late-night fries, smiling at one another's humor and helping each other when challenges arise. Joy you say? Crass jokes and smart-ass comments, off-beat humor and intimate stories. Food shared and discussed, plans made and re-made. Friends like family....eating cheesecake at midnight.

The Best of '09: Dec. 1st

2009-12-01T14:14:00.001-05:00

Ren, posing with Richard Kind at "Night of 100 Stars" in the famous Beverly Hills Hotel.

I signed up for Gwen Bell's "The Best of 2009" challenge today. I'll be picking and choosing which prompts I want to answer...we'll see how many ways I can summarize 2009 before it's over. :)

Today's prompt: December 1 Trip. What was your best trip in 2009?

Without a doubt it was my trip to Hollywood on Oscar weekend in February! Not that it was all glamorous and fun but there were so many cool things that came of it and great memories we brought home. I wrote about some if it over at my Learning in Freedom blog so I'm not going to write about it again. Just go check out "My Big Fat Hollywood Weekend" post if you care.

Wednesday poetry

2009-10-29T00:27:00.002-04:00

Stanley Kunitz is one of my favorite poets. This one really hit home tonight.

The Layers
By Stanley Kunitz

I have walked through many lives,
some of them my own,
and I am not who I was,
though some principle of being
abides, from which I struggle not to stray.
When I look behind,
as I am compelled to look
before I can gather strength
to proceed on my journey,
I see the milestones dwindling
toward the horizon
and the slow fires trailing
from the abandoned camp-sites,
over which scavenger angels
wheel on heavy wings.
Oh, I have made myself a tribe
out of my true affections,
and my tribe is scattered!
How shall the heart be reconciled
to its feast of losses?
In a rising wind
the manic dust of my friends,
those who fell along the way,
bitterly stings my face.
yet I turn, I turn,
exulting somewhat,
with my will intact to go
wherever I need to go,
and every stone on the road
precious to me.
In my darkest night,
when the moon was covered
and I roamed through wreckage,
a nimbus-clouded voice
directed me:
“Live in the layers,
not on the litter.”
Though I lack the art
to decipher it,
no doubt the next chapter
in my book of transformations
is already written,
I am not done with my changes.

Full Moon

2009-10-18T10:41:00.004-04:00

Dreaming of feathers and flight,
238,857 miles beneath
cratered satellite,
laying open night's cloak,
revealing every leaf
spinning in tree
visions,
as she pulls back
and inward
and through
to dance
before the winter-trance.

Dreaming of flight and feathers,
so many miles beneath
Peary's eternal light.
Sleep dreams colliding with
awake dreams
as waxing breaks through to full.
Full of awakening to your pain,
full of awakening to your voice,
the full cycling round
and round
again
to new.

*Computer art rendered by Sierra Allen

Meet "Wild and Precious"

2009-10-13T18:50:00.009-04:00

Inspired by the same train of thought that caused me to write the last post, I created "wild and precious"...she's still in process.

Speaking of process sometimes I forget to document it. To me, art is all about process rather than outcome. It's about getting lost in the process, about experimenting with process and not holding onto what you think a piece should be.

Allowing the art to take on a life of it's own frees you from certain disappointment. The images in my head never come out the way I imagine. More importantly, they are living things...beings that help me learn more about what Zen really means. In that spirit, I share today's process:

She began on a 16x20 sheet of 140# watercolor paper. I now remember why I detest 140# paper and long for that luscious 300# instead. After sketching the basic outline I started filling her in with Rembrandt pastel chalks. U2 is playing;

If I could throw this
Lifeless lifeline to the wind
Leave this heart of clay
See you walk, walk away
Into the night
And through the rain
Into the half-light
And through the flame

Detailing with the chalks...bringing in shadow and darkness to bring out the light.

If I could through myself
Set your spirit free
I'd lead your heart away
See you break, break away
Into the light
And to the day

Next is a layer of watercolor to fill in the background colors. I discover that most of the Grumbacher watercolors that belonged to my great-grandmother are completely dried in the tube. I set them aside for cutting open later. I feel a pang of grief for the reminder of her story having been finished.

To let it go! And so fade away
To let it go!
And so fade away
I'm wide awake
I'm wide awake
Wide awake
I'm not sleeping, oh no

Then it's the repeated layering of Neopastels, chalks, pencils and watercolor. I'm also remembering why I adore Rembrandt pastels once again....the pastels my mother purchased for me in high school. Yes, they're over 20 years old and work brilliantly. Another pang of remembrance for another human I miss.

If you should ask then maybe they'd
Tell you what I would say
True colors fly in blue and black
Blue silken sky and burning flag
Colors crash, collide in blood shot eyes

She's finished for today. Walking away is so hard. 140# paper can only handle so much manipulation and water before it's overworked though. Once it's dry I can layer more color and detail in.

This desparation
Dislocation
Separation
Condemnation
Revelation
In temptation
Isolation
Desolation

Detail shot of today's finished work. I feel free...a weight lifted. That's what happens when art and words get out. I wonder what happens to people who have art and words and don't get them out. I think I would lose something vital to my existence. This post belies the true process. Because it's filled with tea breaks, fixing food for children, watching someone play a video game, becoming frustrated with color and walking away, going outside to walk the garden briefly and sigh at the mess it's become. Our processes are uniquely our own. A single post can not contain the truth of it all or the multiple songs that played in my art room and in my mind.

Find your process...be with it, whatever it is. In the color and words I find release.

To let it go, oh No
And so fade away
I'm wide awake

“Writing is a form of therapy; sometimes I wonder how all those, who do not write, compose, or paint can manage to escape the madness, the melancholia, the panic fear, which is inherent in a human condition” ~~ Graham Greene

Wild and precious....

2009-10-13T11:26:00.007-04:00

A one-way ticket to the grave. That's what we all have. I wrote about it at one of my unschooling lists and then the thought really settled in. Parents of younger children often worry about college, worry about what their children are learning, worry, worry. I understand those heartstrings being pulled so tight you want everything to be perfect for your child. I do.

But I no longer relate to the worry. I no longer understand why college matters so much to some people or judging someone on the kind of job they choose to hold. I don't care if my child makes good money or chooses to drive or not. We've got a one-way pass to the grave people. A pass that can be re-called at any time. In the words of Mary Oliver; "Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?

One wild and precious life. One planet filled with people who don't think like me, places I've never seen or imagined and enough mysteries to keep me enchanted for always. There are miseries we like to look away from, starving children and wars and genocide that render such a helpless feeling. Right here under my feet there is earth to till and above me stars to inspire awe. There are children who need parents and trees that need saving. There is more here than we can take in. And people are worried about college?

The product-driven society in which we live causes people to look for end results. One must graduate with good grades, get into a worthy college and then the carrots just keep being dangled from there. People are looking for measured "success", for those marks that mean you're better than someone else. It's all a big mess of competition with no real end in sight. But the end is there even though it's not about success or grades or that "good" job. The end is death.

Parents worry about college, they worry about grades, they worry about what they're child is learning...forgetting all the while that in the life they've spawned they've also spawned a death. The end result of your parenting is death. The end result of your child's ambitions, of your own is the grave. That's it.

The great part is that realizing this can be incredibly freeing. If death is the final result of all your efforts, of your child's efforts, then why not do the things you truly find exhilarating? Why waste your time worrying about things that don't matter in the bigger scheme? Why choose worry when your wild and precious life is being used up?

It isn't that college is a less worthy choice, it very well may be a choice that is best for someone. The point is that we choose what matters most and with such a wild and wonderful world available, every one of us should be choosing things that make us content, that make us feel whole and inspired. Every one of us should hold that pass to the grave in front of our hearts and minds as the impetus for no-fear. There is but one end result for all of us. But between the time you get handed that pass and the time it is re-called, there are many possibilities....many paths, many outcomes, many stories waiting for us to create them.

For parents, that in-between time can be spent building rich connections with the world around us. As our children travel with us, we can be inspired so they can see what inspired people act like. We can focus on respectful,healthy relationships and being curious about the very community in which we choose to live.

We can choose every single day to approach this gift with awe, to approach ourselves and our own lives with interest. Our children can see what passionate, interesting people look like. I want to fill up my days with good memories, great conversations, laughter, hand-holding, questions and cuddles. Not worry about some imagined future. There is no time for that. My pass might expire at any time and baby, I've got stories to create! How are you using your "one wild and precious life"?

The road not taken

2009-09-24T09:42:00.007-04:00

I stand over the stove, as clouds of cream swirl their way through spicy Tazo Chai. Beige, tan, cumulus cloud of cream wends it's way into drink, echoing the spiraling ribbon of thoughts meandering through my just-awake mind.

A black-capped chickadee delights in the newly-filled bird feeder just out the morning window. Tea and birds, one constant in this life. Loving where you've landed doesn't mean you stop questioning, stop pondering the forks in the road not taken. We change our lives in seemingly benign choices, like making tea.

People live or die and thousands of lives are indelibly altered based on decisions about where to drive today, when to have sex, who to discuss these things with and whether to buy that pair of BCBG shoes. It's always those tiniest of choices that hindsight allows you to see as pivotal moments.

I wonder often about where choices might lead, might have led. I wonder about the people we chose not to be with for whatever reasons existed in the past and whether the fork in the path might again diverge upon today. Whether the best choice of the past is the best choice still. I tend to stay with things longer than is helpful. This much I know. Yet it takes a friend to point it out again.

I wonder too, about whether forgiveness means healing. People told me so. I don't know that I believe it. There's a release for certain. But some wounds are deep and forgiveness is simply letting go, it doesn't stop the scar from forming. Scars are a form of healing but there it is, with you for life. Different and raised up, something you don't erase.

How many times have I chosen the less messy path, the safe path? As if there really is a safe path in this life.

Old stuff

2009-09-11T22:09:00.001-04:00

I wrote the following essay in fall of 2006. I didn't feel capable of sharing it then but here it is....three years later. :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My Dad called this week. I haven’t talked to him in a very long time. Can’t bring myself to call for some reason. I listen to the message, thinking it would be nice to chat with him, but I just don’t want to…there is some resistance within.

Driving to work today, feeling a bit down already about money issues and relationship issues and just general life stuff, a Nickelback song comes on. It’s called “Photograph” and it takes me back into my past in a very real way. This line especially:

“Every memory of looking out the back door
I had the photo album spread out on my bedroom floor
It's hard to say it,
time to say it
Goodbye goodbye
Every memory of walking out the front door
I found the photo of the friend that I was looking for “

And I realized what the resistance is. Talking to Dad is a reminder of what I don’t have anymore. A reminder that everything in life I trusted as a child, is pretty much gone. The beliefs that were ingrained in me…gone. My mother….gone. Having family nearby at all times….gone. The house I lived in through high school was sold last month, my Dad and Stepmom are living in their RV and traveling. The anchor of a hometown and family is floating about, more of an idea than a reality for me.

The song was playing and I started thinking back to high school and the goodbyes I said before it was time. Kathy, Bill, Dennis, Eric…names of those that died my very strange senior year. Kathy was only an aquaintance, but her face has stayed with me, longer than many of my friends. She was murdered one night, taken from the parking lot of our school. Stacey and I were hanging out and drove right past school that very night…oblivious to the unfolding events. Kathy never got to live many of the dreams I have. She never had children of her own, never got to graduate or move away from home. She remains an image to me, of a pretty girl down the hall, putting on her brown leather jacket after school, smiling to everyone and speaking softly. Life became fragile that year. We felt adrift and alone, a band of prisoners that nobody really understood. School does that to people. Kathy’s death drove the message home.

I think about her every so often, like when that song plays on the radio. She is the symbol of “goodbye” for me, the symbol of how fleeting life is and the unknown events that play out in each of our dramas. I believe there is a place in each of us that desires the kind of security we can never have in this journey. A place that wants to know something is sure. But nothing is. The only constant is change. All that we know today, may be different tomorrow and will most definitely be different if we live long enough.

We will lose people we love. We will have goodbyes that need to be said. How well or how poorly we navigate these changes is the only thing we have control over. Letting go is an art form. I’m still learning to perfect it. Apparently I’m not doing as well as I thought…since talking to my Dad brings up resistance that is hard to understand. I have a good relationship with him. He is kind and supportive. It’s not like I have a good reason to avoid him. I think I’m just avoiding anything that reminds me of loss right now, anything that makes me feel more fragile than I already do.

Markus and I have dealt with some pretty big goodbyes, even in our relationship. I feel like so many things have happened that I’ve learned to ignore some of my emotions. Stuff them down, turn them off. Pretend I don’t care when I really do. I know it’s temporary and tomorrow I might feel differently. But for right now, I just need to feel sad for the past I can never have again. I need to open my heart to all the Kathy’s of the world that never got a chance, I need to connect with the positive parts of my life that will never be again.
I need to grieve.

I’ve been missing my Mom more every year. It’s supposed to get better, but it doesn’t. There are questions I need to ask her, so many ideas and thoughts I have to process on my own. Her own writings that I seek to interpret and understand. So many pieces of the puzzle that made me understand her better, and so many that I can’t fill in. I thought there would be more time. There’s never enough of that.

Loss is a powerful issue to face in this life. No matter who we are, or what status we hold, there is one guarantee…that we will face loss at some point. The grief that ensues can rend us powerless, gripped in emotions that are nearly impossible to define and physical pain that grips so tightly it feels as though it will suffocate. Coping isn’t on the horizon, yet cope we must. For we will face this again most likely, and again, and again. Growing old doesn’t scare me. Saying goodbye more is the thing I fear. I’ve already said goodbye more than I ever wanted to…but it will continue. Knowing that it’s part of birth and rebirth, part of the cycle we all entered at conception, does not help assuage my sadness. It just is.

I feel like I’m losing parts of myself, through the goodbyes. I had places that were sacred to me I can no longer access, people I loved I can no longer access, (sometimes I still want to reach for the phone to call my Mom) and events that will never be again. We all have those hollow places, those unreachable bits. I carve my space within that grief in order to feel more deeply. The sadness allows me to feel more joy…to feel MORE. In feeling more, I am more fully alive. So I grieve, I rage, I cry, I laugh and shout and I keep living, filling the hollow parts with more life.

I’ve tempered my passions all too often, for the sake of conformity, for the sake of not looking too crazy. To hell with it. I’m not going to worry about other people’s sensibilities (or lack thereof), that’s their issue. I am Ren. I am strong and weak and passionate and angry and deliriously joyful. I make big messes and colorful places. I am too quick to speak and slow to listen, but I’m pretty sure I love more deeply than most. I cry for the past sometimes, and even for the future, but I live for the moment. I’m pretty sure I’ll die disorganized, but definitely not unfulfilled.

Sometimes I just want to sit with a cloves and some rum, forgetting what it feels like to sorrow…sometimes I meditate instead. White sage or cloves? Which smoke will help more at the moment? Drifting smoke seems to wend it’s way between worlds, giving me a chance to feel spirit. Whatever form it is, matters not. Tonight I sit with Enya and kids, unable to fulfill the part that wants heavy metal and a run in the dark. Instead, I kiss a sweaty forehead, and listen to the shouts of angry siblings.

I curse the fact that I can’t sit here and write, uninterrupted and thank the universe for hearts that still beat. At least they’re alive to be pissed at each other.

More too much...

2009-09-09T14:16:00.000-04:00

I was sitting here just now, listening to Pandora while sorting and trying to make sense of which clutter is important (none of it, not really) and which is willing to take a journey with someone else now. This 10,000 Maniacs song is playing and it relates so well to my last post I looked up the lyrics. Here's my favorite line:

~Spare me? dont spare me anything troubling.
Trouble me, disturb me with all your cares and you worries.
Speak to me and let our words build a shelter from the storm.
Lastly, let me know what I can mend.
Theres more, honestly, than my sweet friend, you can see.
Trust is what Im offering if you trouble me.~

Sweet darkness, shared with a caring soul is better salve than sweet words with little meaning because someone feared "negative energy". Shared fears, shared weaknesses and dark parts are a humbling and enlightening experience. It's very different than "negative". I guess it's all how we frame it....growing and learning through the tears or letting it stop us dead in our tracks and give us excuses to not be joyful, to quit pursuing that which we love.

Troubles are part of life. Sharing them is part of friendship. Moving forward in spite of the difficulties is true strength.

Too much sugar

2009-09-05T23:42:00.004-04:00

There are those who seethe light and joy at all times.
They, who are truly afraid.
More afraid than most.
Because they can't look darkness in the eye.
They can't admit it's pulsing right under their skin.

Yin-yang, dark-light, beautiful-ugly.
The yin-yang of me beats in my chest in my heart
and soul right down to my toes.
It is darkness and light.
How can one truly see light if they refuse the dark?
If they refuse the wholeness of themselves?
wholeness
whole
holeness
hole
One little "w" changes it all. Wholeness-darkness.
Can not refuse the ugly.
It allows that pulse, embraces it, loves beauty in dark
points of light, rays of light, shadows in sunshine

You, who are human, you who are afraid, who yearn, who dream, who feel unfulfilled and relentless and aching at times. You, who feel joy and angst and longing and desire and peace. You, who are whole...
don't be afraid of the angst and longing and desire and peace,
be afraid to ignore any of it.

Feel sad for those who seem to dwell only in light,
for they are only denying self,
denying whole,
denying connection
creating dishonesty.

Be bold, be truthful
the closer we are to honesty,
the deeper it cuts
Be bold, be honest
your voice is needed.

Sunrise decomposed

2009-08-25T08:11:00.009-04:00

Strange dreams made me restless last night. I awoke in the dark, unable to sleep. Did some a Kundalini meditation which made me feel better but no more capable of sleep. Mind racing, I finally recognize the futility and decide to take advantage of a sunrise for once.

The house was quiet at 6:30am...the most subtle wash of light beginning to creep in as I padded upstairs to make tea. I slip outside unnoticed and alone. Sitting on the front porch I heard the low moaning of a passing train. It's a sad sound that gypsy siren, metal on metal screeching through the rumbling reaching 1.5 miles down Old Embreeville road to my waking ears.

Crickets kept the rhythm as a mourning dove poured her heart out. The whole world seems to gently unfold in the early hours, noises becoming more intense along with the spreading light. Warm tea pushed back the morning damp and cool. I raised my mug in silent cheer to passing cars-fellow travelers- hoping they were driving to something they enjoy. Something nourishing to the spirit.

There was a fine mist rising up from the field across the street. As I sat and pondered my current state of being I wondered where the road map went. Adults seemed to know exactly what was right or wrong when I was a child. They seemed to have all the answers for everyone. I've chosen a life for which I was given no map. I'm facing changes I don't have a clue how to navigate and it's really ok. Sometimes I just want to be handed the directions though.

I look down at my scarred feet and silently thank them for carrying me so many places, thank them for bringing me to the place I am now.

The light slowly filled up the morning sky and began spilling into my windows, warm and welcome taking away the edge of a restless night. Suma got his breakfast early, my cat the color of sunsets. He greets the day with much less intellect; human=canned food, sunshine=nap, life. is. good.

I sit wrapped up in my thoughts about children growing up and art and how a morning unfolds with all it's promises. I realize that I write in my head, I search for better words and descriptions to help me clarify what swirls around in muddy ripples. Without sitting down to put words to paper (or computer) it doesn't make me a better writer. It does make me a more interesting thinker I suppose.

"Now I'm hunched over a typewriter I guess you call that paintin' in
a cave And there's a word I can't remember and a feeling I cannot escape"

Within those thoughts I recognize why I really write. I have to. Because it helps me think, it helps me understand myself, it helps me focus that muddy swirl. It doesn't matter if the words are worthy or if anyone else relates to them. They are for me and my journey. I need the words and the exercise of honing them. I need to pour out the words that tease and taunt me, that keep me from sleep. They must need me too because they are a constant.

"And now my ashtray's overflowing I'm still staring at a clean white page
Oh and morning's at my window she is sending me to bed again"

Memories of a different time and place, of a restaurant in Pensacola with pita bread and baba ganoush come rushing in. I hear the words spoken so often "today is a new day". Sunrise is renewal, rebirth, new beginnings. It is sunrise whenever we choose to start new, to give ourselves permission to be in this moment without the baggage of perceived failures or mistakes of the past.

Today IS a new day, with all it's potential for beauty. Maybe I can be more like my cat and simply enjoy that sliver of sunshine because it's there.

Another Travelin' Song
~Bright Eyes

Well I'm changing all my strings
I'm gonna write another travelin' song
about all the billion highways and the cities at the break of dawn
I guess the best that I can do now is to pretend
that I've done nothing wrong
and to dream about a train that's gonna take me back
where I belong

Well now the ocean speaks and spits and I can hear it
from the interstate and I'm screamin' at my brother
on a cellphone he is far away
And I'm saying nothing in the past or future
ever will feel like today
until we're parking in an alley
just hoping that our shit is safe

So I go back and forth forever
All my thoughts they come in pairs
Oh I will, I won't, I doubt, I don't,
I'm not surprised but I never feel quite prepared

Now I'm hunched over a typewriter
I guess you call that paintin' in a cave
And there's a word I can't remember and a feeling
I cannot escape
And now my ashtray's overflowing
I'm still staring at a clean white page
Oh and morning's at my window
she is sending me to bed again

Well I dream the dark on the horizon
I dream the desert where the dead lay down
I dream a prostituted child touching an old man
in a fast food crown
Oh yeah, I dreamt this ship was sinkin'
there was people screaming all around
And I awoke to my alarm clock
it was a pop song it was playin' loud

So I will find my fears and face them
or I will cower like a dog
I will kick and scream or kneel and plead
I'll fight like hell to hide that I've given up

Earth and air

2009-08-01T22:20:00.003-04:00

I've been pondering my earth and air traits that seem in opposition to each other at times....the incredibly strong appetite for exploring and doing and seeing everything and knowing everyone, balanced with the need for staying put and growing things and going within. The grounded earth energy with the airy wind energy. It seems crazy to have so much of both going on. But there they are.

It leads one to pursue such things as gardening, beekeeping and cooking..things that take time and roots and being still. Then there's art and fashion and makeup, things that take time and swirling here and there and movement. Head in the clouds, feet on the ground. But sometimes it's hard to figure out where to be and how much of the appetite to fulfill. Because the desires want to take me places that could destroy some of the other things that matter too.

So I drive with the windows of my truck down, wind blowing through and through, wondering what the view is like at 4500 feet. But instead of finding out, I drive home to people I love and leave the view for another day perhaps. I blast the music loud and wonder what it would be like to ignore responsiblity and societal taboo and just give in to the whims of the moment. I drive in the dark with the wind and wonder about these things.

I often blame the fact that I was born as a Taurus on the cusp of Gemini. Earth and wind. Venus and Mercury. Persistent and materialistic, imaginative and impulsive. How to tame the desires that one spirit can contain? Should we even try? I have no answers. Some nights when the truck windows are rolled down, the dark and the wind seem to call me down the road. Down the road to I-don't-know-where, or outside-over-there. The music and the dark and the wind....always tugging at my wild-child heart.

Where I'm from

2009-07-19T22:44:00.005-04:00

I am from diamond willow, Pledge and an El Camino. I am from dresses with hidden pockets, Dippity-Do and "meetings".

I am from the orange and brown house on Farewell street that held the red striped couch, clean, warm, smelling of home cooked food.

I am from the spider plants, marigolds and a small yellow bird, strawberries, roses and smiling Mum in the sunflower house.

I am from Bidwells and Porters, strong women who divorced and ran hat shops before women did such things, an Auntie I'm named after, farmers, truckers, hard working hands and re-using everything because it was useful.

I am from the chaos of many people and noisy hub-bub of voices spilling late at night over whoosh of kerosene, creak of cabin floors and crackle of woodstove.

From "life isn't fair" and "do it right the first time" and singing "Tell Me the Story of Jesus", (hymn #1 because it was our favorite).

I am from a cultish group that calls themselves "the friends" and "the truth". A community filled with friendship and untruth.

I'm from the land of the midnight sun, the hushed magic of Busby Island, hot cocoa time at Wasilla convention, lefsa and gingerbread with lemon sauce.

From the Uncle Danny who threw hard snowballs at cars when he was a boy and cracked my Grandpas windshield, the Dad who jumped out of a jeep to try and avoid trouble but got into more and the Mum who fell in love with my Dad when she was 16.

I am from stories. Stories of all these people I am part of, stories of the past and the future, stories of truth and fantasy. I am from "Koala Lou I Do Love You" the night my mother told it in public and dedicated it to me, from "Goodnight Moon", "Where The Wild Things Are" and "Robbie" stories made up by my Grame, recorded on cassette tapes and shipped from Seattle.

I am from boxes all jumbled with photos and memories, dusty hummels, shells and bones from Busby Island, a quilt of my mother's clothing created after she died which stays near me every night and a ball my Grandma Sally sewed for me as a baby. They hold more than you would know when you see the worn surfaces, more than I can tell in a lifetime.

Zenmomma posted her own "Where I'm from" which inspired this post. The original idea for this meme was inspired by a poem, you can learn more about it here. I did a couple slight tweaks, because I could.:)

Yellow bird

2009-07-06T14:39:00.002-04:00

There's a Bright Eyes song that rattles around my brain some days; "did you forget your yellow bird?" asks Conner. I never forgot mine.

It was my birthday, I believe it was my 6th. Only my Mum could confirm that fact and she's gone now, so I'll never know for sure. There were two boys from down the street who came. Boys I'd played with many times before. I didn't know they had cruel hearts but I found out that day.

We were playing outside mostly, it was a warm day for May 19th in Alaska. I came around the corner to the front of the house and there were all my friends in a circle around something. The two boys were kicking it delightfully. It was a small, yellow bird. I started screaming in terror. They were kicking a small, helpless creature and I was horrified. I remember yelling for them to stop, I felt helpless and alone. Like those dreams where you try to run but your feet don't work. They wouldn't stop and I didn't know how to make them.

My mother heard my screams and came running to the window. Her stern voice stopped them instantly but it was too late. I remember her sending them home, disgusted with their behavior. We scooped up the little bird and amidst my tears she gently led me to the backyard where we buried it under the stairs.

I don't know if I ever quit crying for that helpless creature, facing the brutality of boys that had probably faced it themselves. I carry that yellow bird with me today and the need to protect other such vulnerable creatures. There was a robin once too, that Mum made me take back to the place we found it. A baby that had fallen out of it's nest most likely.

I've always loved birds. They've always found me too. I've rescued many a bird since then, my most recent was last week. It was a yellow bird. I thought it was trying to get my attention away from a nest at first, acting hurt and hopping away. As I moved towards it (with the goal of finding the nest for observation) it became obvious that it really couldn't fly.

Knowing the neighbor cats would get it in a heartbeat, I scooped it up and made a temporary home for it in a tall bin. We fed it the customary black oil sunflower seeds that the goldfinches seem to love at our feeder and kept it dry and safe long enough to see if it would survive.

The idea was to transport it down to a wildlife rehab center, but each day that I checked on him he seemed better. I came to believe he was a fledgling that just needed a bit more time to gain strength. Time that the cats would not have given. Each day I got close enough to upset him so he'd try to fly, making sure he got exercise.

On the fifth day, he flew out the open garage door and into a tree. My yellow bird was gone, just like that. He stayed nearby most of that day, flying from tree to tree as if to show me how well he was doing. I wonder which of the goldfinches at my feeder he might be now.

There are no pictures of this bird, or the one that died when I was a small child. I don't believe there is any mystical connection, but it felt good to save a yellow bird for some reason.

"We are nowhere and it's now"
by Bright Eyes

If you hate the taste of wine
Why do you drink it till you're blind?
And if you swear that there's no truth and who cares
How come you say it like you're right?
Why are you scared to dream of God
When it's salvation that you want?
You see stars that are clear have been dead for years
But the idea just lives on...

In our wheels that roll around
As we move over the ground
And all day it seems we've been in between
A past and future town

We are nowhere and it's now
We are nowhere and it's now

And like a ten minute dream in the passenger's seat
While the world was flying by
I haven't been gone very long
But it feels like a lifetime

I've been sleeping so strange at night
Side effects they don't advertise
I've been sleeping so strange
With a head full of pesticide

I've got no plans and too much time
I feel too restless to unwind
I'm always lost in thought as I walk a block
To my favorite neon sign

Where the waitress looks concerned
But she never says a word
Just turns the jukebox on and we hum along
And I smile back at her

And my friend comes after work
When the features start to blur
She says these bars are filled with things that kill
By now you probably should have learned

Did you forget that yellow bird?
But how could you forget your yellow bird?
She took a small silver wreath and pinned it onto me
She said this one will bring you love
And I don't know if it's true
But I keep it for good luck

Serious artists....

2009-06-19T10:11:00.003-04:00

Robert Genn sends out weekly emails about all things related to art and the art process. I especially loved today's gem and thought of several friends who might enjoy this as much as I did. The above drawings are by Sierra, who hasn't learned to compare herself to "serious artists" yet takes her art seriously.:)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Serious artist

June 19, 2009

Dear Ren,

I'm out here on a rocky Donegal foreland. Below, on
the beach, one of those smart-looking black-and-white
Irish farm dogs is running loose. With no master in sight,
the dog has a tennis ball she tosses in the air, chases and
sometimes catches. Hit or miss, each attempt is announced
with a joyful bark. She's telling me something: "Come on, Bob,
loosen up. Put joy into that stuff. Get a life. Don't take yourself
so seriously."

Everyone has heard of the "serious artist." The term
has a lot of different meanings. To a person who paints
only on Sundays, one who paints every day might be one.
An artist whose work is difficult to understand may consider
those who paint understandable things "not serious." On the
other hand, realistic artists sometimes consider modernists
to be only wanking the public and therefore not serious. Some
think serious artists are those who deal with serious subject
matter--poverty, war, politics, injustice, etc. Except for a bit
of irony once in a while, these folks don't generally think humour
has its place in art. You may know of artists who take themselves
so seriously they become significant hazards at dinner parties.

Hey, it's okay to be serious about honing technique,
learning the ropes and trying to understand the muse.

When I was younger and much more idealistic, I used
to worry I was not serious enough. In my studies,
I eventually got around to the critic Bernard Berenson
and was relieved by his idea that art ought to be life-enhancing
and not life-deprecating. I figured it was okay to please, both
myself and others. Anger and angst were just fine for anyone else.

Further, I've always thought that in an ideal state
people should do only what they love--perhaps an
impossible, hedonistic position. I'm sticking to it.
The pursuit of personal joy is serious business.

To experience joy one has to consider play. The British
writer G.K. Chesterton said, "Children's play is the most
serious thing." Unfortunately, age and accumulated wisdom
tend to interfere with play. It's a human condition. Or is it?

That dog down there is seriously immature, but she has
a wisdom that is worth looking into.

Best regards,

Robert

PS: "We have an infinite number of reasons to be happy,
and a serious responsibility not to be serious."
(Maharishi Mahesh Yogi)

Esoterica: "God," said Voltaire, "is a comedian playing to
an audience too afraid to laugh." Obviously, some folks think
all this seriousness is a byproduct of a great cosmic joke.
And these little stretchy things--these canvases and the
stuff we mark them up with--are truncated playgrounds
of the human soul. In the end, it is we who can become the
master jokers. "It is not necessary for the public to know
whether I'm joking or whether I'm serious," said Salvador Dali,
"just as it is not necessary for me to know it myself."

Stirring speech

2009-06-04T12:48:00.003-04:00

This was posted by a friend at one of my local homeschooling lists. I'm re-posting it here in it's entirety, because I think it's that important.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**Paul Hawken's Commencement Address to the Class
of 2009 University of Portland , May 3rd, 2009.
Paul Hawken is a renowned entrepreneur,
visionary environmental activist, and author of
many books, most recentlyBlessed Unrest:
How the Largest Movement in the World
Came into Being and Why No One Saw It Coming.
He was presented withan honorary doctorate of
humane letters by University president Father
Bill Beauchamp, C.S.C., when he delivered this speech.

"When I was invited to give this speech, I was asked if I could give a
simple short talk that was "direct, naked, taut, honest, passionate,
lean, shivering, startling, and graceful." Boy, no pressure there.

But let's begin with the startling part. Hey, Class of 2009: you are
going to have to figure out what it means to be a human being on earth
at a time when every living system is declining, and the rate of
decline is accelerating. Kind of a mind-boggling situation - but not one
peer-reviewed paper published in the last thirty years can refute that
statement.

Basically, the earth needs a new operating system, you are the
programmers, and we need it within a few decades.

This planet came with a set of operating instructions, but we seem to
have misplaced them. Important rules like don't poison the water, soil,
or air, and don't let the earth get overcrowded, and don't touch the
thermostat have been broken. Buckminster Fuller said that spaceship
earth was so ingeniously designed that no one has a clue that we are on
one, flying through the universe at a million miles per hour, with no
need for seatbelts, lots of room in coach, and really good food - but
all that is changing.

There is invisible writing on the back of the diploma you will receive,
and in case you didn't bring lemon juice to decode it, I can tell you
what it says: YOU ARE BRILLIANT, AND THE EARTH IS HIRING.
The earth couldn't afford to send any recruiters or limos to your school.
It sent you rain, sunsets, ripe cherries, night blooming jasmine, and that
unbelievably cute person you are dating. Take the hint. And here's the
deal: Forget that this task of planet-saving is not possible in the time
required. Don't be put off by people who know what is not possible. Do
what needs to be done, and check to see if it was impossible only after
you are done.

When asked if I am pessimistic or optimistic about the future, my answer
is always the same: If you look at the science about what is happening
on earth and aren't pessimistic, you don't understand data.

But if you meet the people who are working to restore this earth and the
lives of the poor, and you aren't optimistic, you haven't got a pulse.
What I see everywhere in the world are ordinary people willing to
confront despair, power, and incalculable odds in order to restore some
semblance of grace, justice, and beauty to this world. The poet Adrienne
Rich wrote, "So much has been destroyed I have cast my lot with those
who, age after age, perversely, with no extraordinary power,
reconstitute the world." There could be no better description.

Humanity is coalescing. It is reconstituting the world, and the action
is taking place in schoolrooms, farms, jungles, villages, campuses,
companies, refugee camps, deserts, fisheries, and slums.

You join a multitude of caring people. No one knows how many groups and
organizations are working on the most salient issues of our day: climate
change, poverty, deforestation, peace, water, hunger, conservation,
human rights, and more. This is the largest movement the world has ever
seen.

Rather than control, it seeks connection. Rather than dominance, it
strives to disperse concentrations of power. Like Mercy Corps, it works
behind the scenes and gets the job done. Large as it is, no one knows
the true size of this movement. It provides hope, support, and meaning
to billions of people in the world. Its clout resides in idea, not in
force. It is made up of teachers, children, peasants, businesspeople,
rappers, organic farmers, nuns, artists, government workers, fisherfolk,
engineers, students, incorrigible writers, weeping Muslims, concerned
mothers, poets, doctors without borders, grieving Christians, street
musicians, the President of the United States of America, and as the
writer David James Duncan would say,the Creator, the One who loves us
all in such a huge way.

There is a rabbinical teaching that says if the world is ending and the
Messiah arrives, first plant a tree, and then see if the story is true.
Inspiration is not garnered from the litanies of what may befall us; it
resides in humanity's willingness to restore, redress, reform, rebuild,
recover, re-imagine, and reconsider. "One day you finally knew what you
had to do, and began, though the voices around you kept shouting their
bad advice," is Mary Oliver's description of moving away from the
profane toward a deep sense of connectedness to the living world.

Millions of people are working on behalf of strangers, even if the
evening news is usually about the death of strangers. This kindness of
strangers has religious, even mythic origins, and very specific
eighteenth-century roots. Abolitionists were the first people to create
a national and global movement to defend the rights of those they did
not know. Until that time, no group had filed a grievance except on
behalf of itself. The founders of this movement were largely unknown -
Granville Clark, Thomas Clarkson, Josiah Wedgwood - and their goal was
ridiculous on the face of it: at that time three out of four people in
the world were enslaved. Enslaving each other was what human beings had
done for ages. And the abolitionist movement was greeted with
incredulity. Conservative spokesmen ridiculed the abolitionists as
liberals, progressives, do-gooders, meddlers, and activists. They were
told they would ruin the economy and drive England into poverty. But for
the first time in history a group of people organized themselves to help
people they would never know, from whom they would never receive direct
or indirect benefit. And today tens of millions of people do this every
day. It is called the world of non-profits, civil society, schools,
social entrepreneurship, and non-governmental organizations, of
companies who place social and environmental justice at the top of their
strategic goals. The scope and scale of this effort is unparalleled in
history.

The living world is not "out there" somewhere, but in your heart. What
do we know about life? In the words of biologist Janine Benyus, life
creates the conditions that are conducive to life. I can think of no
better motto for a future economy. We have tens of thousands of
abandoned homes without people and tens of thousands of
abandoned people without homes. We have failed bankers advising
failed regulators on how to save failed assets. Think about this:
we are the only species on this planet without full employment.
Brilliant. We have an economy that tells us that it is cheaper to
destroy earth in real time than to renew, restore, and sustain it.
You can print money to bail out a bank but you can't print life to
bail out a planet. At present we are stealing the
future, selling it in the present, and calling it gross domestic
product. We can just as easily have an economy that is based on healing
the future instead of stealing it. We can either create assets for the
future or take the assets of the future. One is called restoration and
the other exploitation. And whenever we exploit the earth we exploit
people and cause untold suffering. Working for the earth is not a way to
get rich, it is a way to be rich.

The first living cell came into being nearly 40 million centuries ago,
and its direct descendants are in all of our bloodstreams. Literally
you are breathing molecules this very second that were inhaled by Moses,
Mother Teresa, and Bono. We are vastly interconnected. Our fates are
inseparable. We are here because the dream of every cell is to become
two cells. In each of you are one quadrillion cells, 90 percent of which
are not human cells. Your body is a community, and without those other
microorganisms you would perish in hours. Each human cell has 400
billion molecules conducting millions of processes between trillions of
atoms. The total cellular activity in one human body is staggering: one
septillion actions at any one moment, a one with twenty-four zeros
after it. In a millisecond, our body has undergone ten times more
processes than there are stars in the universe - exactly what Charles
Darwin foretold when he said science would discover that each
living creature was a "little universe, formed of a host of
self-propagating organisms, inconceivably minute and as numerous as the
stars of heaven."

So I have two questions for you all: First, can you feel your body? Stop
for a moment. Feel your body. One septillion activities going on
simultaneously, and your body does this so well you are free to ignore
it, and wonder instead when this speech will end. Second question: who
is in charge of your body? Who is managing those molecules? Hopefully
not a political party. Life is creating the conditions that are
conducive to life inside you, just as in all of nature. What I want you
to imagine is that collectively humanity is evincing a deep innate
wisdom in coming together to heal the wounds and insults of the past.

Ralph Waldo Emerson once asked what we would do if the stars only came
out once every thousand years. No one would sleep that night, of course.
The world would become religious overnight. We would be ecstatic,
delirious, made rapturous by the glory of God. Instead the stars come
out every night, and we watch television.

This extraordinary time when we are globally aware of each other and the
multiple dangers that threaten civilization has never happened, not in a
thousand years, not in ten thousand years. Each of us is as complex and
beautiful as all the stars in the universe. We have done great things
and we have gone way off course in terms of honoring creation. You are
graduating to the most amazing, challenging, stupefying challenge ever
bequested to any generation. The generations before you failed. They
didn't stay up all night. They got distracted and lost sight of the fact
that life is a miracle every moment of your existence. Nature beckons
you to be on her side. You couldn't ask for a better boss. The most
unrealistic person in the world is the cynic, not the dreamer.
Hopefulness only makes sense when it doesn't make sense to be hopeful.
This is your century. Take it and run as if your life depends on it."

"The privilege of a lifetime is being who you are." Joseph Campbell

Post-Argh reflections

2009-03-26T17:03:00.004-04:00

We had our spring gathering called "ARGH" (autodidactic radical gathering of homeschoolers) up at Roan Mountain earlier this month. One of the highlights was having author Patti Digh come do a book signing and reading during the gathering. She was most inspirational. Having loved her blog for a long time, it was a real treat to finally meet her and purchase her book "Life is a Verb".

For anyone that hasn't enjoyed her unique perspective and wisdom, check out her 37 days blog. You'll be glad you did. Be sure to purchase a copy of "Life is a Verb" too....it's worth far more than the pricetag!

The "polished sphere" is referring to Dorodango balls, something I am now fascinated with. She brought one to show us and I can't quit thinking about these amazing works of art.
I was sifting through all my thoughts after returning home and wrote the following, inspired by Patti and her book:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I sit here on my bed, orange cat purring before me, trying to ignore piles of laundry, papers with scrawled notes about returning the leased van and a stack of books falling loosely next to purring cat.

I am digesting my weekend in the mountains with friends, processing conversations, observations, mediations......that stuff we call growth. The need to analyze my behaviors,my judgments and reactions to life causes chatter in the brain. Chatter that is only pacified with pen and paper. I read the introduction from "Life is a Verb" in which Patti--wise sage that she is--urges us to write in the margins, reminding that "one longs to say something".

This purring cat before me, a denizen of my bed and basement, shares the same fate as I; a creature destined for finality, the grave. A creature living and dying at once, just as we all are.
Sharing that connection with him as a being marching forward to that final fate, makes me appreciate his silken fur even more. It helps me notice more clearly the joy he takes in the comfort of a bed and a human minion sitting nearby.

I decide that the purring cat curled up next to my stack of books with "Life is a Verb" on top is the simple image that captures all my thoughts at the moment. I pick up my camera, closing in on cat and book in order to block out laundry mess and scrawled papers, in order to show the pretty parts I want others to see.

Then it hits me, this is exctly where my pondering has brought me, to a place where I realize I must fully embrace the "silt" Patti talked about this weekend. Embrace it, cherish it, be comfortable with it's presence and be willing to share it.

The lense pulls back and there is the laundry again, the scrawled notes, the silt of life that is mine. All mine.

I've kept it out too often, pushing others back, not expressing my love fully, not investing enough. If life is a verb, then it's a messy one. I want to freeze-frame all of it. See it for the beautiful mess it is.

Some sit on the proverbial mountain top, pointing fingers, swathed in judgment, cloaking themselves in the illusion of perfection. But the mess of life demands that we expose the chinks if we are to fully experience all that IS.

We risk losing out on meaningful connections with our fellow travelers if perfection is what we seek, if being right matters more than simply BEing.

The sunshine today and my orange, purring cat remind me that the mundane is truly exquisite. There is nothing ordinary about this day. In the living and the dying at once, we hold an ethereal connection to all that was and all that ever will be. Sending out ripples of our existence into the vast, never sure of where they go or who may be affected.

The next 37 minutes, 37 hours or 37 days hold the possibility of embracing that perfect imperfection. The mud and silt of our lives may someday become a polished sphere, capable
of great reflection.

I want to open myself more to fully being vulnerable. I want to paint and draw and dance and talk and share and cry and ask and yell and whisper and create with utter abandon. Because life IS a verb, and so am I.

Standing alone

2008-12-06T08:55:00.004-05:00

The tree,
hugged one last time by sunlight
before earth slips into
void of night.

She gathers up amber rays.
They expose her,
shedding plush red cloak
for grey bones reaching skyward.
Exposed.

She is laid bare.
Nothing but hope
of spring warmth,
life stirring quietly.

She carries the seeds of tomorrow.
She holds the most fragile of dreams.
Destiny
held ever so gently
in her grey bone arms.

My heart fills up....

2008-11-23T22:33:00.017-05:00

    At the end of the movie "American Beauty", Kevin Spacey has an amazing monologue about
the last second of his life and the post-death feelings he has about the world:

~~I guess I couId be pretty pissed off
about what happened to me,   
but it's hard to stay mad when
there's so much beauty in the worId.

Sometimes I feeI like I'm seeing
it all at once and it's too much.

My heart fills up like a balloon
that's about to burst.

And then I remember
to relax...   
and stop trying
to hold on to it.

And then it flows
through me like rain,

and I can't feel anything
but gratitude...
for every single moment...
of my stupid little Iife.


You have no idea what
I'm talking about, I'm sure.


But don't worry.



You will someday.~~



I think I know exactly what he's talking about. At least
in certain moments I know. Still learning how to stop
trying to hold onto it. So much beauty....even in the
things we deem undesirable. Beauty everywhere.

I am...

2008-11-16T14:10:00.004-05:00

....a purple squiggle. According to Bupa anyway.:)

"You are creative, witty and impulsive. You are spontaneous and fun, always looking to the future, however you are not always dependable and you have been known to drive your colleagues crazy. You are easily distracted and you need to learn to focus on tasks and see them through to their conclusion."

After lighting nachos on fire and running over a mailbox this week, I have no way to refute the above assertations. My only issue is that it seems to by saying "easily distracted" is somehow bad. I disagree. I spent too much of my life feeling badly about that fact. Some of us like sparkly things...what can I say?

Thanks to Christi for sharing the Bupa thing at her blog!:)

Too much

2008-11-13T10:45:00.007-05:00

I've completely neglected this blog once again. Not for lack of caring, or desire to share words and ideas but for lack of prioritizing. The garden has been neglected too. It was nice to take a break from it. I have that luxury but there are spinach and kale seeds wanting to be planted.

We've been extra busy with good friends. Creating lovely memories and connections. That's the stuff which makes life grand. An intentional community is on my mind daily now and while the stars are coming into alignment in some ways, other challenges make it a seemingly distant reality.

I've been shooting with my 35mm camera again. The photos lose quality when being uploaded from a disc, but it's what I have right now. I shot a bunch in downtown Jonesborough, then at a cemetery and on Buffalo Mountain where we hiked with La's crew.

We've managed to lose a camera and our cat this month. So amongst all the swirly, craziness of friends and gatherings we've been sad about saying goodbye to some things we love in life. I'm still hoping Bella will show up yowling at the door one night.

Today, I read this poem at a community blog and it really fit in with how I'm feeling this morning:

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.

Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting —
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

Wild Geese by Mary Oliver

ATC experimentation

2008-09-27T22:45:00.009-04:00

The latest ATC experiments have been all about texture and mucking about with just how much you can use a sewing machine for. I'm not a seamstress. I just know how to make the sewing machine go, so it's not exactly a fine art or anything.

This series utilizes paper, paint and fabric to create mixed media, sewn ATC's.

Unfortunately some of the pics didn't come out too clear. That's what happens when I use a point-and-shoot instead of my trusty 35 mil. camera. sigh. The cards above are Live and Learn memories. The left side utilizes an old tie dye shirt and a chocolate wrapper. On the right I used some feathers and a gem from my masquerade ball costume.

These two are some of my favorites. Both use fabrics, paper and paint to create a very textured card. The heart and circle are raised up.

This series is paper sculpted with gel medium, paint and glitter. Can you tell I'm getting ready for Day of the Dead? Or am I just really early for Valentine's Day?

These were fun doodles. They started out with watercolor paint and got layered with colored pencils (including watercolor pencils, my fave) chalks, oil pastels and iridescent watercolor medium.

These were really fun, though I am not in love with the results yet. I took a stiff backing of felt (most of my fabric ATC's start that way) and stitched a swatch of canvas to the top. I then gesso'd them and painted with acrylic paint. A mini paint canvas ATC style! Cool idea, but I need to play with it more.

Last month we had fun up at Clark's creek with our friends. I took home a small pile of river rocks and got inspired to paint them. The results make me happy. I love baskets of colorful bits and meditation stones, these are F.U.N. They feel so good in your hand too!

Last, a couple shots of my messy art room. I used to have a corner of the garage, but I've upgraded to an actual room in the garage. Complete with walls.:)

It's not pretty, but we write on the walls and have a generally fabulous time in there. Sierra is my constant companion when art is happening. I think every bit of clothing she owns has been altered in some fashion.

The most awesome piece of equipment I ever invested in? Guess.

Nope, not that lovely sewing machine.

Not the hot glue gun.

No, no, no, it's not the soldering iron.

Nah, it's my shop vac! I LOVE, love, love my shop vac which sucks up all sorts of chunks and scraps and anything at all you don't feel like cleaning up. It's a vacuum for the relaxed housekeeper. That'd be me. Yes, yes. I highly recommend one.

There is something most satisfying about throwing your scraps on the cement floor and sucking them up with an all powerful, uber-hungry, somewhat demonic vacuum. Most satisfying indeed. Be careful or it will suck your soul! It's that powerful.

Now you know what happened to me.;)

The garden slows

2008-09-22T10:50:00.002-04:00

The color of the month is green. Lots of peppers, a lone watermelon and even some fried green tomatoes. I feel like a true southerner now! They are total yum by the way....

The lonely little watermelon was a volunteer that sprouted up in the herb garden. We basically ignored it, so I'm surprised we got anything at all. But it was fun to have at least one watermelon after Scott's (aka; Jalen) wonderful first experience with them last summer.

There is some okra and corn still coming on, just a few corn plants that we MAY get a few ears from if the weather holds. They're mostly just for decoration. The swiss chard never stops. That stuff is amazing and so versatile. We're getting ready to clean things up and plant more lettuces and greens.

Tomatoes keep coming but are looking pretty straggly at this point. There's been a lot of learning and more planning for next season. The garden is the never-ending story.:)

Stanley Kunitz is my hero

2008-08-26T22:18:00.004-04:00

There's a quote I've loved for many years now and it's never far from my mind:'

"The hard, inescapable phenomenon to be faced is that we are living and dying at once. My commitment is to report that dialogue."

It's a quote by Stanley Kunitz, a well respected poet and better yet, an amazing gardener. I have been wanting to buy a book of poetry for some time. I broke down the other night and started researching which book of poetry I might like. The best discovery was a book of conversations with him about his garden, his life and poetry from the years 2002 through 2004. I was SO excited and ordered it immediately.

Well, it hasn't been disappointing. It was money well spent. He died in 2006 at the age of 100 and I can't help but feel the world is a little less bright because someone like him is gone.

Poems with words like "At my touch the wild braid of creation trembles." and
"What makes the engine go? Desire, desire, desire. The longing for the dance stirs in the buried life."

That first quote is something I've related to so deeply in my desire to document life itself. Photos and words are my method most of the time, art at other times. I understand his need to embrace the living and dying all at once. It's beautiful.

This also explains that desire to document, regurgitate, remember and extract:
"The creative gift has very complex origins; you're accumulating and digesting experience, trying to discover it's meanings, instead of stuffing it into a closet and moving on to whatever happens to you next."

Yes and yes.

He even waxes poetic about compost and "the positive concept of waste and death. The contribution that mortality makes to civilization is the equivalent of what composting contributes to a garden. We are all candidates for composting. So we cannot approach the compost heap without a feeling of connection."

I was trying to grasp my inner urge to document the other night, before the book arrived and found myself writing a brief essay about my thoughts on the matter. Towards the end a poem began forming in my head. It seems to reveal my deepest desire in this documentation-of-life process....to somehow "freeze" the moments. Thank you Stanley Kunitz for your words and inspiration, for your garden and your insight. This one's for you:

Still life
as in

be

still

life

Pause for this moment
let me

freeze

frame

now

If I can hold existence
fabric of

the

soul

It need not slip

away

into

ether

Be still life
slow

your

breathe

Let me dance
this

step

again

Kiss your cheek

soft

on

lips

Never to change
or grow older because

one
kiss
holds
forever

Eternity in my
still
life...

Beautiful Stillness

2008-08-18T12:15:00.006-04:00

“There is a beautiful stillness breathing here,
Its mellow richness on the clustered trees …“—Longfellow.

My new friend Heather sings a song that make my spine tingle. I don't know why it's such a powerful song to me, but everytime I hear this particular song it causes the most lovely images to swirl up into my mind.

So I created an ATC inspired by her song "Beautiful Stillness" and I think there's more to come. Maybe it's the way I used to get lost in my own fantasy creations out in the woods as a child. Maybe it's because I most closely relate to nature and fairies and whimsical cloaks and medieval stories. I don't know. But it's an awesome song and I want to thank her for the inspiration.

It's mostly the chorus that runs through my head all day:

"I will sit beneath the trees
'til kudzu grows, over me
poison ivy circling round my head
an initiation crown"

Food and art

2008-08-17T23:51:00.005-04:00

Two of my favorite things in life.

I made a fierce tomato sauce out of many garden tomatoes. I used a bunch of lush Brandywines, along with some pungent rosemary and onions. It simmered on the back of the stove for several hours, making the house smell like an Italian restaurant.

This sauce is one I used to make when the older boys were little. I had more time to spend in the kitchen back then and somewhere in the years I quit doing it. There was also this amazing Italian peasant bread I made. Both the sauce and bread are back, I'm happy to say.

The crust is crisp and chewy, the bread inside is softly textured and has a most addictive quality when dipped in olive oil infused with herbs and garlic. Heaven. on. earth.

Truly. This time around I made the sauce into a lasagne. With the peasant bread and some green beans from the Farmer's Market it made a lovely meal.

Since this started out as more of an art/meandering thoughts blog, I thought I'd throw in some of the recent ATC's I've been making. These are all fabric or a combination of fabric, paper and other materials put together with the sewing machine.

The ATC on the left has a duct tape base. You really CAN do anything with that stuff. It's amazing!

My fairy on the right lived in a jar for the last year or so. She stood in some moss that I incorporated into the ATC. I think I'll trap some more fairies to use in art. They're so gullible around here and I find them easy to collect. Don't worry, lots of raw honey keeps them happy. That, and a bit of glitter.

On the far right in this picture, I used a piece of material from a shirt of my Mum's. It was one that I collected after she died and kept thinking I'd wear it. Cutting up certain items is difficult and this was especially hard. I feel like I'm cutting up bits of her life, which I am in a sense, but it feels good to honor her spirit in my art.

She was a storyteller and an artist, though she never fully trusted her artist self. Her spirit lives on in my garden and in my art and stories and especially in my children, who remember their storytelling, costume-dressing, parade-making, flower-picking, gift-giving Grandmother with great fondness.

These ATC's will be found at a conference in the near future......so come on over and trade at Live and Learn with me!!:)

Poetry and a bit of gratefulness

2008-08-05T09:12:00.006-04:00

This poem is what inspires me this morning, as I sit and ponder events in the world and how different people respond to these events:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ah the wars they will
be fought again
The holy dove
She will be caught again
bought and sold
and bought again
the dove is never free.
Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in.

(Leonard Cohen)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The garden needs tending as this warm weather
is causing everything to either bolt or grow like
lunatics on speed. We're seeing several birdhouse
gourds emerging now and it excites Jalen to no end.

I'm feeling quite positive lately. If the world turns
inside-out, I will ride the wave or crash, but today
will be spent in joy. I will feel the connection
with my fellow humans on this journey...for we
are all reflections of one another to some degree.

Today is about connecting with my children, my
friends, my piece of the planet and all the other
places on this amazing chunk of rock floating in
space. I am constantly awed and fascinated by
this place called earth and the people here-in.

So I leave you with this symbol of love, created
by Sierra who knows little about the idea of
limitation...thankfully.

Let some light in through the cracks.....

July compressed

2008-07-31T10:29:00.015-04:00

I had planned to update before now, truly I did. But a couple very disappointing things happened after my last post and it took me a while to feel positive about my efforts this year.

After my last post I discovered that I had lost the entire hive. I know what happened now and we'll just call it a series of beginner mistakes and lack of complete information from those that were helping me. It probably would not have happened if I'd gone with nucs instead of packaged bees. Apparently the packaged bees are a bit more maintenance in the beginning and I didn't really know what to watch for.

The same week I lost the one hive, I also discovered a water retention issue....certain parts of the garden weren't retaining it well at all. I think the large black locust nearby wasn't helping either. So I had a lot of very small potatoes and it probably explains some of my struggle with other plants.

I was pretty down that week. There is inherent risk with anything living and never any guarantees. But I felt like too many things were failing right at that point. I'm feeling better now...

The Tithonia Torch is drawing mad amounts of butterflies and other nectar seeking insects. It was literally alive with activity the other day;

This bumble bee was quite happy. He's not from my hive, honey bees don't look like this. But he was sure going to town on my flowers.

I went into the strong hive for some maintenance and to make sure they were ok. They looked great! My co-workers bought me the bee suit for my birthday and I am loving it. Thank you ladies!!

I'm also very happy with the design of the hive stand we built together. It holds a lot of items and hive parts while I'm working. Very convenient and sturdy.

The tomatoes kept getting larger and larger...

..and more ripe by the day. To date, we've eaten 4 or 5 of the large Brandywines and too many cherry tomatoes to count! The flavor on both is incredible. I've had home grown tomatoes many times but I don't think I've ever tasted anything quite like the Brandywines. They are made of YUM.

This watermelon plant is a volunteer and slowly taking over the herb garden. Heck, I can move herbs if needed. It's happy there.

We've managed to keep harvesting lettuce. There is a very slight bitterness to some of it that you don't even notice when it's in a salad. I'm pretty happy about the lettuces and salad materials this year. That's one thing I can always enjoy.

The harvest from one day last week. The cuke was too bitter, mostly to my irregular watering practices lately. We had several good cucumbers before that. The lettuce basket has a bunch of basil in there too. I can eat basil on everything!

One of the meals from our garden. A salad with lettuces, herbs, tomatoes and feta cheese and a baked sandwich with basil, tomato and cheese.

We dug up several varieties of potatoes, the All Blue (which are actually purple) included. They aren't my favorite for flavor or texture but the gorgeous color makes them totally worth the effort.

This was a night of soup....green beans, cabbage, zucchini and crook-neck squash all went into that pot of soup. We also had steamed beet, which I happily ate for myself since nobody else likes it.

The zucchini, beet and crook-necks were all from another local garden. I won them in the silent auction at the annual Washington County Beekeeper's Association picnic. Got to see a long hive out at the Exchange Place. That was truly interesting.

The hive is laid out length wise instead of being built upwards. It's useful for someone who might have back problems or other health concerns but wants to keep bees. I would think in our winters a long hive might have trouble keeping warm. Apparently that one is fine though.

Anyhoo....
it's been a month of disappointments and rewards. Chalk it up to living and learning. We're talking about expanding the garden bed in a dramatic way next year and adding a couple more hives. Bring it on!

The buzz

2008-07-02T12:46:00.004-04:00

I mentioned that one of my hives had me worried and was very weak. After talking to the folks at K&K again, I went with their advice to place a new queen in the colony and take a frame of brood from the healthy hive to give them a boost. So here I am getting into the weak hive.

This frame should be covered with bees and wax and brood...as you can see there's not much of anything. The brood that was present looked dried up and there were NO eggs or young larvae present at all.

I have a theory as to what may have happened, but it's all a guess at this point. I think the original queen may have been weak to begin with and didn't lay enough brood. Something happened to her, or they swarmed (which makes no sense, but is still a possibility) and the hive decided to make a new queen. I found two empty queen cells, so my thought is that two queens hatched and rather than one of them dominating, they killed each other and the hive didn't have enough brood to make a new one at that point.

Their numbers were declining rapidly, but there is no sign of disease.

Placing the new queen in the hive.

I checked on her yesterday and they almost had her out of the queen cage. I'll wait a few more days before checking again. I'm worried about this hive, but there isn't much I can do at this point but wait....
and wait.

Lotsa things in life are like that aren't they? :) The bees are helping me be more Zen. Ah, that would make a good post..."Zen and the art of beekeeping".

First fruits

2008-06-25T11:38:00.012-04:00

We built a new pen for Ms.Tica and she loves being a semi-free rabbit again. I think she's the best fed rabbit in these parts, getting raw veggies and leaves from the garden every day. I'm thinking about ignoring those Home-owner association rules and putting some chickens in here. It's under the deck stairs so I don't think anyone would see them easily. Anyone know how well chickens and rabbits do together?

The herb garden is bursting at the seams now. There are several basil, rosemary, thyme, sage, summer savory, oregeno, marjoram, lavender, marigolds, dianthus, tithonia torch (mexican sunflower), sunflowers and morning glory. The Dill is all finished for now but I may start some in the fall again. Two volunteers share the herb bed...a roma tomato and watermelon, both from last year. I really need to move the watermelon but every bit of space I had left, went to the sweet potatoes.

I know it probably gets old seeing this same shot week after week, but I like seeing how it changes every time. I didn't get half of my goals accomplished this year, so it helps me to see the progress on what DID get done.:)

Another volunteer, sprung from the old compost bed. I thought it was zucchini at first, but it's kinda round. Might have been a hybrid, so we'll just have to see what it wants to be and whether it will be useful or not.

Cherry tomatoes hang gracefully on the vine,

Some plump peppers,

and a few knobby cukes.

My Brandywine tomatoes are filling out. Might be time for some fried green tomatoes soon!

This morning I unearthed a handful of Yukon Gold potatoes,

which became a simple and hearty breakfast of onions (also from the garden), potatoes and eggs from down the road. Yum.
There is nothing more buttery and smooth than a homegrown Yukon Gold. I can't believe the silky texture. Potatoes can handle long-term storage but they sure have great texture right from the garden! I can't think of many foods more pleasurable.

Good eating

2008-06-15T21:57:00.011-04:00

We had been eating a lot of salad, up until the weather got a bit hot and things were going bitter. The above picture was typical for a few weeks though. Herbs, swiss chard, lettuces and broccoli or cabbage leaves were the norm. I still have a couple bags of lettuce in the fridge and we've planted some heat resistant varieties to see how they do.

There is one raised bed that gets a lot of shade that might make a good summer lettuce bed. We'll see. I've been told that July and August are the hardest months for lettuce but the rest of the year is pretty easy around here for growing them.

Our farmer's market bounty was a loaf of ciabatta, a brownie, lettuce, some strawberries and a bundle of lamb's quarter.

Our Brandywine tomatoes are doing fabulous. Since this picture was taken last week they've gotten quite a bit larger and are covered with blossoms. A few have set fruit too. One of the cherry tomatoes has several fruits and I'm eagerly awaiting the first harvest.

Sierra has become quite adept at building frames for the hives. I can whip out ten frames fairly quick now, with her help. One of the hives got a second hive body as they were starting to get crowded. The other hive hasn't even worked five of the ten frames very well yet, I'm starting to worry about that one. They need to get busy or they won't get through winter. Not sure what is going on but I'll get someone out to look with me soon.

The healthy hive is incredibly busy every day now.

Last week when I inspected the hives I had to scrape a lot of burr comb off the inner cover. I decided to strain out the little bit of honey that was in there...it was so good and gave us a glimpse of future rewards.:)

The view from the hives is looking more filled in lately.

A meal that was almost zero miles...some scrambled eggs from about 1/10th of a mile down the road, chock full of herbs and greens from our garden with some mint tea to top it off.

The pizza was inspired by our visit to Touch the Earth Farm where we were fed very well. I used a puff pastry crust and topped it with olive oil, mozza and plenty of basil, oregeno, marjoram, garlic and some leeks. It was SOoooooo yummy!

The more we grow our own food, the more we enjoy the entire process. We've pulled a few potatoes this week (got my first purple tonight) and had a couple for breakfast a few days ago.

I've also taken to spending part of our grocery money on staples we can store long-term. We've got about 50# of flour, 25# of rice, lots of peanut butter, canned beans and dry beans, oats, baking soda, vinegar and more. The idea is to buy items we use all the time and get to the point where the budget is a lot about what we want to buy, rather than what we feel we have to buy.

The more we store and grow, the less dependent we can become. It's a slow process at times, but it feels good to be in process. I have a feeling this will be a winter where we will be very glad to have large stores of food. Prices aren't falling, that's for sure.

QOTD

2008-06-11T22:09:00.001-04:00

Found at Beth Fuller's blog....

“There can be no happiness if the things we believe in are different from the things we do.”
~~Freya Stark

You get three words

2008-06-11T08:45:00.004-04:00

This has been on my mind lately, don't ask why. I think of weird stuff at random times.:)

If there were three words to describe you after you died, what would they be? I decided that I hoped people would say of me "she was fearless". I can't think of a better legacy to leave behind. Still working on that fearless part.

What would people say about you? Three words. Go!

Oh, and publish a link if you put it at your blog or feel free to leave it in comments here. The above picture is one that Sierra and I did on February 29th. Fearlessly leaping. Yep.

Path to Freedom

2008-06-04T19:35:00.003-04:00

I love the Path to Freedom website and just signed up for the 100 foot challenge. Part of me wonders how on earth I plan to meet the challenge with such a smallish garden, but then everything I've accomplished thus far has been by committing first and figuring it out later.;)

They give some space for including local foods and such, so the eggs I buy right down the street will probably be included at times. Connected with a couple that runs an organic farm at the beekeeping meeting last night. Very exciting! Mainly because they plan to have a booth at the newly started Jonesborough Farmer's Market.

Anyone who lives nearby should really think about supporting the market. It runs on Saturdays from 7am-11am in the library parking lot and for now the booths are free. Once they start charging it will be a $5 daily fee or you can rent for the season at a discount. I'd love to get enough herbs going to start taking some bundles down. For now I'm trying to eat them all.:)

...and so it grows

2008-05-31T00:34:00.005-04:00

The garden keeps growing (funny how that works) and we've been harvesting salad materials pretty regular now. This is the view from the beehives looking towards the back of our property.

Inspecting the newly sprouted beans, which I've been told will make good "leather britches".

Some marigolds peeping out amongst lettuces and peppers. There are a couple of cucumbers on the backside getting ready to climb up the jute twine.

The potatoes seem to grow while you watch them!

The herb garden is just filling in but there is enough parsley, cilantro and dill to dress up the salads with. There is something most spiritual about picking a bunch of greens and going inside to make a meal of it. Every bit of what goes into salad was started from seed. There will be more soon....some cukes and peppers and tomatoes.

We've got plans for the main garden bed to be dug and tilled soon. I'm still not entirely convinced of the no 'til methods though we'll experiment with some of it. I think it's easier for me to create something aesthetically pleasing through tilling. I want defined spaces that are pleasing to the eye as well as useful for growing food. Both are important to me. I think that's why I like raised beds.

The eventual main garden area will have a retaining wall along the backside so it will be a well-defined space. Not sure how much we'll get done this year but at least we're getting our plans together finally.

Projects for this week include assembling and adding a second hive body so the bees have more room. Oh, and good news about chicken eggs...we found a farm just up the road that sells them for $1.50 a dozen. It's close enough to walk there and we even got to help gather the eggs last week. Since the evil home owners assoc. won't allow for chickens, this is a good alternative for now.

If only I could get some raw milk out here...still looking.
My cats need it ya know.;)

Zero miles...almost

2008-05-06T18:44:00.009-04:00

The Black Locusts are blossoming! I've waited an entire year to sample this delicacy after learning they were edible last year but losing the blossoms to a late freeze. They are truly an elegant food. I picked a few for the kids and Sierra got very excited about my stir fry idea.

So she came outside to harvest some edibles..

she started with the locust blossoms.

Aren't they amazing? I think they are one of the most fulfilling wild edibles ever....they are beautiful to look at, smell heavenly and taste of a sweet, mild pea. Perfection if I ever knew it.

She gathers some broccoli rabe from the garden along with the blossoms.

Busted! She looks like Tica here, nibbling on the blossoms.

Speaking of Ms. Tica...she's a total escape artist. I knew this about rabbits, truly I did. But she is extraordinarily talented. Funny little gal will jump back in her cage if you chase her. As long as you don't try to pick her up, she'll let you get close.

Sierra pauses to play with silly rabbit before chasing her back to her enclosure where she dutifully jumps back in. She's got us trained well.

The final zero miles meal (and our very first ever, so it's a special occasion). Ok, it's almost zero miles. We did use a bit of olive oil and a smidge of Dale's seasoning, but other than that it's all from right here. It was delicious.

Delicious and satisfying right down to the nubbins of my soul.:)

The garden grows

2008-05-06T18:36:00.006-04:00

Outredgous lettuce and Italian dandelion. Our rabbit likes the dandelion greens better than I. It seems much more bitter than the wild stuff growing in our yard.

These are the potatoes after covering them with dirt twice (hilling). Today they are easily three times this size and I just took this pic two days ago! They grow like mad.

There are happy cabbages....

...and HUGE broccoli rabe. We've been eating off it regularly for a few days and sharing with Tica.

The strawberries are just getting started. Next year they'll be luscious!

I feel so powerful having started most of it from seed. :) They seemed so fragile and here they are growing food for us daily now. Incredible.

The Swarm

2008-04-22T10:09:00.005-04:00

On Saturday, a swarm appeared on our trampoline. The kids went down to jump and suddenly had a bunch of pissed off bees flying around. Not a good day to jump.:)

On Sunday, I went into my hives and they looked just fine. No worries. I decide the swarm can't be from my hives (which made no sense anyway, as they still have plenty of room). I decide to call K&K on Monday if the swarm is still there.

Monday arrives and all hell breaks loose. Bleu is outside working when suddenly what-seems-like-five-million bees are around my hives. It stays crazy for a while then the blob of what-seems-like-five-million-bees moves back over to the trampoline and makes our yard practically unusable.

I'm a bit freaked out now. My hives seem to have little or no activity and I really don't understand what is going on or what to do about it. I leave messages at K&K and another hive inspectors voicemail, no answers though. I call throughout the day at work, can't get anybody!

So I call Jessica, just up the road. Yes, she has a five gallon bucket. Yes, they'll come over after I get off work and help me remove them in the dark. "It's like the blind leading the blind" says she. I laugh casually in agreement, hiding the fact that my knees are shaking now.

The going theory is that the swarm had decided to try and move in on one of my hives and failed in their first attempt.

The swarm was quite happy up there under the trampoline. My kids weren't so happy about them taking that location. It's tempting to try and hive them, but two hives are quite enough for this year. Jessica felt the same. So this swarm was freedom bound.

We donned our equipment.
Headed out with an entourage of nervously excited children and one curiously amused husband (hers...mine was hiding out in his office).

The conversations when facing the swarm were something like;
"ok, do you want to hold the bucket or knock them in?" (neither job seemed entirely safe)
"Should I smack the top of the trampoline or just lift and drop it?"

A range of opinions fly forth from the entourage.

Then there's that lovely thought that they could be Africanized bees and all may not go well. Oh, the things you think up at just-the-right moment.

It went something like this...
The main group of bees had the bucket held under them by Jessica, I lift the trampoline about a foot off the ground and drop it. Big blob of bees falls into bucket while a smaller nearby blob falls onto the ground. We brush as many of them up as possible. At some point we decide we've pushed our luck far enough and leave the rest to fend for themselves.

Not one sting.
We're mildly cocky at this point,having captured our first wild swarm without any experts. "The blind leading the blind" thing came off without a hitch.

There were a couple of pissed off bees following us for a few minutes. They got squashed...I did want to take that veil off!

So there's the bucket-o-bees.
Capturing a swarm at night was a great idea.:)

Jessica and family took the bees home with them for release on their property. I got an update this morning:

~~Ren, I walked the bucket o bees out to the pasture and placed it at the base of a dead locust tree. It is perfect if they use it, it has a large split that opens into the tree's center without opening all the way up, so they would actually have a "ceiling" if they use it. I wanted to just sit and watch, but the day called. I'll go back later and check on them. It was a neat feeling holding that pail with the vibrations of their buzz going through my hands. Jess~~

Thanks for calming my fears and coming over in the dark to help me out. You guys rock!

Edibles

2008-04-12T23:52:00.010-04:00

We've not only been getting more garden in this last week, but also collecting a few wild edibles.
The violets seemed to carpet the hill almost overnight...

we took advantage and sprinkled some onto salad. My favorite way to use violets is by glazing them with egg whites, sprinkling sugar on and drying. They save in the freezer and look amazing atop cakes and in salads.

Don't these look luscious?
Sierra helped...
A couple days ago we were all about the dandelions. Chopped greens in salad and I even harvested some root for future use.

My girl also helped plant the onions, garlic and potatoes this week, she's one of my constant gardeners.:)

We had some passerby friends, a wee butterfly..

..a garden kitty named Bella. She loves to follow me and rub against my backside while I'm digging in earth.

This wee caterpillar was saved while cleaning brush. I think it makes an amazingly graceful circle, cradled gently on a leaf.

There are many of these willing helpers...

..yeah, we grow 'em big in Tennessee! Happy digging everyone...spring is grand.

She hives the bees...and gets stung

2008-04-01T23:13:00.007-04:00

It goes something like this...

Put the newly purchased veil and gloves on, pretending like you know how it all works. Other than not knowing how to adjust the hat inside the veil (thank you for that tip Jessica) I did ok.

Remove the top cover, still pretending (fake it till you make it right?) that you can handle this without fear. Fear that you will go through all of the cost and time and worry and still have no bees because you screwed it up so badly they all leave, or die, or....

Breathe.

Open the top.

Remove the queen cage, remove their can of syrup feed, replace lid temporarily.
Yep, the queen really is bigger than the other bees. When they said she would be marked they really meant it. She has a big, white spot painted on her backside.

Place the queen cage inside two frames in the middle of the hive.
Carefully.
Oh, so carefully.
Because she is the success of the hive.

Then not-so-carefully you literally dump three pounds of pissed off bees over the frames. They are a living blob, buzzing and confused. Two of them manage to sting through the clothing. Beginning to re-think whether that suit is worth the money....

Call Kelly Lovejoy after hiving the first package to find out if you can go ahead and hive the second one with what seems like five million bees flying all over the yard and your head and the other hive. Yes, she assures me...they'll sort themselves out in the end, keep going.

So I do.
And it's ok.
Silently thank Kelly.

Wake up early every morning, nervous about whether you will have bees or just an empty hive body, nervous about whether you're feeding them enough and just how long do they need the syrup anyway? Read more on the internet. Read more in the books. Decide you've done everything ok after all.

You sit watching these amazing creatures, flying in and out, feeding on your carefully prepared syrup and fetching brightly colored pollen and you suddenly realize...

I. am. a. BEEKEEPER.

For real. And it feels great.

Getting started

2008-03-28T22:02:00.008-04:00

My friend Christi (a most talented a beautiful human being) quoted this at her blog:

"Pursue, keep up with, circle round and round your life,
as a dog does his master’s chaise. Do what you love.
Know your own bone; gnaw at it, bury it, unearth it,
and gnaw it still." --Thoreau

I love this quote. It is the mantra for my life. Call it passion, interest, curiosity or neuroticism, I don't care. For me, it's a thirst for life. For everything. For the things that make my heart sing and the things I dream in the dark and the light.

This is one of those things.
One of those things you talk about, you think about, you might read a bit here and there. And then one day you just simply DO the thing. It feels so good. I say there is a magic in the action, in the doing, in the trusting yourself to just do what you can and know the next step will unfold even if you can't see it right this moment.

Here are a few of the steps we've taken towards the "thing" of beekeeping...

It starts with attending the beekeeping club's meetings for a few months, purchasing some bees (and by golly you'd better get the hives ready if you know bees are coming!) and then purchasing a couple of hive bodies from K&K right up the road. You take this knowledge that bees are coming, the hive bodies and throw a couple of interested kids into the mix...

Mum adds some nails (is that a wee rattie watching from the background?)

Turn the aforementioned children loose with a gallon of exterior paint and the assembled hive bodies,

drag the husband into the party for help building a stand for the hives,

and Voila! You have a home for some tired and hungry bees, a couple of proud and smiling children and a husband that is thinking this might be an awful lot of work for the raw honey he loves in his tea mug.:)

More to come soon (I have three stings to share....but they came from MY bees by garsh!)

The garden grows...

2008-03-25T21:30:00.005-04:00

...sorta. They're still indoors awaiting their permanent outdoors beds, but it's fun to watch them grow. The formerly leggy broccoli starts are still struggling, but some are filling out nicely.

I had 20 Brandywine tomatoes, an heirloom variety, but a few got smooshed. They are growing quickly!

I broke down and purchased a growlight...at least I got a good deal by getting it used from a friend.:)

In all, I have almost 200 starts going right now. We've started working the ground and some leeks and potatoes I ordered are here and needing to be planted shortly. There is also a small herb bed with some lavender, sage, rosemary and thyme planted with room for a few more kitchen herbs.

Everything is coming along, yet all I see is the mountain that must be climbed in order to get it all done. Seems daunting sometimes. Today was a big work day...
we got the bees hived today! I'm nervously waiting for morning to see if they're doing ok.

We'll get some pics posted of that shortly, it's been quite a learning experience. I've decided to utilize this blog more for the projects we're doing to work towards a more sustainable existence. Recipes to be included....:)

The last few things

2008-02-12T22:59:00.007-05:00

So I've given up on the blogging every day, but the "thing-a-day" is keeping me inspired to create and document nonetheless...

A couple nights ago, we made a dessert with some small puff pastries, topped with berries and whipping cream. No pics of that, but the next day I had this one lone puff pastry left and it looked rather sad all by itself.

I took some fresh spinach and sauteed it with some Dale's seasoning and sea salt on a cast iron pan, then topped it with some tomato/basil feta. Made a great second lunch.:)

Sierra and I were craving Sushi the day after our berry dessert. We scrounged up enough to make it work. Ingredients to keep on hand for Sushi: Nori wraps, Sushi rice and Sushi vinegar. The rest of it is personal preference...cucumbers, cream cheese (less traditional but delicious anyway), tilapia, tofu, lettuce and Mai Ploy hot/sour sauce are some favorites around here.

I thought I'd post this for the farmers out there, since I can use any tips and information possible! They look less leggy to me, but I'm new to starting from seed so who knows? The tops are filling out nicely and they've quit shooting upwards so fast. The window ledge gets sunlight from sunrise to almost sunset. I'll start putting them outside as soon as I transplant them to larger pots so I can start some more. There's a second tray of broccoli and my bell peppers are actually doing something finally!

Just after Eleutheros left a comment about waiting on them, I saw a spark of hope. Two sprouts are pushing up. So I'm continuing to keep them warm. Without a warming mat I had to get creative. Let's just say I'll have to replace the oven lightbulb soon.;)

Sierra made a really cool thing tonight; an ice cup! It was hollow and crunchy, like some movie set prop. I was properly impressed.

Cooking seems to be my thing

2008-02-07T22:36:00.000-05:00

It's the only thing I do most every day. Yet it seems boring to blog about creating meals or baking all the time. That's what I have for this day though.

Some oatmeal, raisin cookies (specifically, "vanishing oatmeal raisin cookies" from the Quaker oatmeal box. Thanks to La for inspiring that one) except I used Flax seed gel instead of eggs.
Flax seed gel makes a GREAT egg replacement and you can store the seeds for a very long time. You simply boil some seeds in water for a few minutes and it's instant goo.;)

...and a large pot of minestrone soup. All I could think while cutting up the miserable turnips from the grocery store, is how happy I'll be to use the veggies from my garden this summer.
Insert big, fat sigh here....

Lastly, I wrote in a journal. One of the many journals. I really wanted to write something about my Mom, since her death anniversary was on the 4th. But I didn't. I wrote while sitting at the park with Jalen and Sierra, on our way to run some errands for Trevor who left town yesterday. I already miss him.

He had his first Greyhound bus experience, but made it there safely in spite of the interesting people at the Johnson City station. I'll admit I was a bit nervous.

This page isn't what I wrote yesterday...I'll take an excerpt anyway. Isn't that how it works? I get to share what I want and hide the drivel. Or maybe it's all drivel...but it's MY drivel. So there.

This page was a wandering stream of thoughts, part of it says
"...passion surfaces occasionally
and gets pacified with
Djarum
or
Mojitos
or
words
spilling like silky Darjeeling
over my mind..."

Lastly, here is the progress on my broccoli starts. They are doing fabulous, in their little window ledge. The bell peppers are struggling to sprout. I really need a warming mat to make it all work better but I'll keep mucking about with my seeds and pots and a sunny window ledge.

I continue to marvel at the power of a seed. A tiny thing that becomes so much food for us. I sat and stared at my wee broccoli sprouts and imagined the plant they will grow into, providing nutrition and satisfaction for our bodies. I really think there would be more happy people in the world if everyone just grew some food.:)

Spring update

2008-02-06T00:10:00.001-05:00

I spent today in training for the company I make my income with.:) I work with some amazingly creative, talented and inspirational people. So it was about creating art on the face today and taking some silly photos of it all.....

Katie-Laine from Nashville, who loves making connections (and we seem to have quite a few between the two of us)...

Erin from Knoxville who's sunny disposition and colorful style always uplifts me....

...yet another crazy Knoxville chic (Amanda) grabbing a moment to be goofy while listening to the Sr. artist. We have way too much fun to call it work.

I decorated Amycake's box for her Fafi goodies, as well as my own. Lotsa fun. The quote on the side is the one I have on my business cards: "Though we travel the world over to find the beautiful, we must carry it with us or find it not." ~Emerson

Lastly, I created my own Fafi inspired graffiti "tag".

So that's what I've been creating today and unfortunately there was no way to get to a computer before now as we were on the road to Chattanooga last night and then in a hotel without access. Hopefully I can stay on track now!!

Start with an item from the thrift store....

2008-02-03T23:03:00.001-05:00

...like this goofy little shadow box frame with some shells in it. Probably adorned someone's bathroom. I picked it up for a mere dollar. When tearing it apart I broke the glass and almost forgot to take a "before" picture (you may notice where the shells were already ripped off the paper underneath).

After a light sanding, Jalen helps me Gesso the pieces. That's been one of the best parts about "thing-a-day" so far. The two younger kiddos are right there with me, wanting to be involved in what I'm doing and experimenting with their own art too. This is why I don't like having my art corner in the garage during winter weather! We tend to neglect having materials available but "thing-a-day" inspired us to move it to a more comfortable location.

A little bit of acrylic paint is added.

The cubbies begin to get filled in.

A whole new look for the thrift store find!
Upper left corner contains a snakeskin from Milton Florida and a bone found at White Sands National Monument in Alamagordo NM. Upper right corner contains a deer vertabrae and sand dollar from Busby Island Alaska, in the Prince William Sound. Lower left are shells from the Pensacola Beach area (somewhere on Santa Rosa Island) and lower right is a bird nest from FL, some blue jay and various other feathers and a wooden egg that was my Mums. The paper that lines each box are leaf rubbings from leaves gathered one sunny day in Pensacola as I traipsed the streets with Izzy and Jalen. Oh, and the bundle of plants on the right is some creosote and mesquite from the NM desert that my friend Karin Curtain brought to the very first Live and Learn conference. It still smells wonderful.

I later drilled a few holes in the bottom to add some dangly bits...another day.

Then we moved on to the firepit project. After mixing some mortar and leveling our circle the kids helped me place a few stones.

I figured out that I really stink at mortaring uneven stones together. It's more solid than it was before....but I can't say it's any prettier.;)

While I was finishing up with the rough mortar job, Sierra started digging up some wild onions that grow prolifically in our yard this time of year and well into spring. You can see them to her right in a toy dump truck.

Inside, the bread we had made while art projecting, was cooling off.

Sierra and I chopped the wild onions into a stir fry and some sauteed mushrooms. A meal fit for a queen. An earthy queen anyway. We're using up the last of the wild blackberry jam made last summer. It makes me sad to see it going, but more determined to put up a lot more jam this year. It was a productive day, but you wouldn't know it by the mess I am surrounded by in the basement now. That's part of the trade off for doing what we prefer.....the things we don't prefer seem to sneak up on us.

All the busyness of today gave me more to blog about, which is good since the next two days will be a challenge. I'm leaving town for work training and Jalen needs to see the dentist first thing in the morning for an absessed tooth. Lotsa fun eh? I'll be lucky to get a pot of soup made tomorrow....

Baking some art

2008-02-02T23:06:00.001-05:00

Tadah! Yes, I made a birthday cake. No, it was not from a box mix, it was from scratch. In fact, I used the Chocolate Joy recipe from this cookbook I inherited from my mother.

That's an original Betty Crocker cookbook from the 1961, complete with the goody-two-shoes advice for the oh-so-proper wife/mom of the times. Interesting stuff that.

Ok, I didn't really make the whole cake. I had a wee helper in the form of a birthday boy who turned seven today.

He frosted it with intense concentration, topped it with some lovely skittle candy and lit it up!

It was a lovely cake.

Betcha thought that was my "thing-a-day" huh? Fooled you. I really did some art this time!

I made some ATC's for Jalen's birthday and then had so much fun I made a few extra, even some Valentine versions to give away.

The top three are the Valentine theme, second row is silver tissue and the bottom row are random happy colors. All are encaustic art (which is just a fancy was to say "crayon melt" in this case):)

Swirly pinks and reds

My favorite; "What's love got to do with it?"
Can you tell what kind of mood I'm in? Maybe I should have added some black. ;)

Thing-a-day

2008-02-01T23:37:00.001-05:00

So I started with a brilliant plan to make some ATC's for Jalen. He turns seven tomorrow and we celebrated his birthday today. The art cards may still happen tomorrow, but today is over and I'm exhausted. Between the birthday and having some awesome friends hang out and then hit the grocery store, there will be no ATC creations for my first Thing-a-day.

I did create something. Sorta. I created the beginnings of a garden. A very large garden that will only exist in my mind for a bit longer. But I planted some inhabitants of the garden that we plan to eat. So it's not really so much of something I created today, but a baby step towards something I am creating.

I've never started Broccolli or Peppers from seed and I have no heating mat for them yet. So we'll see how they do. There's more to come, all a grand experiment for this amateur gardener.
I can smell spring around the corner, truly I can. Now if I wasn't sitting here freezing cold trying to keep my hands from getting stiff.:)

I'm throwing in an artsy image too...just fer fun.
My idea with doing the "Thing-a-day" project was to encourage myself to get back into the act of making art regularly. I created this image on Sierra last week, so it doesn't count for the project, but I wanted to put a pic here since it's plant related (kinda, sorta, maybe?).

Happy creating to all of you who signed up! I'm still figuring it all out too, but I assume we post a comment at the project site that links to our blogs? Off to find out (just in the nick of time too...it's almost midnight)!

I must be nuts

2008-01-28T19:56:00.000-05:00

But for those of you that read my other blog, you already know I'm out of my mind right? Right?

So here goes anyway. I signed up for the "thing-a-day" challenge in February. There is still time if you want some inspiration. Register before January 31st and create one thing a day in February...yes, every day. Create something and blog about it before midnight each night.

That's the part I'm having particular difficulty thinking about, the blogging part. I create stuff every day anyway, even if it's just a loaf of bread. But to take pictures (yeah, I do those every day too pretty much) and WRITE about it here? Ack.

But I took the leap of faith and signed up anyway. Sierra promised to help me by letting me use her digital camera which makes it all within the realm of possibility.

The cool part? I just started cleaning out my art corner in the garage (all you organized people can stop snickering now...yes, I just got the Christmas tree taken apart today) so I can actually GET to all that lovely stuff I like to create with. Not that the "thing-a-day" needs to be art. I just need it to be art for some of the days since that's what I'm neglecting lately. That and writing.

I'm obsessed with my garden this year too, so I'll probably be posting about progress with becoming a suburbanite farmer.:) Ok, maybe not a farmer but the backyard will slowly become growing grounds for all things edible. Hey, 3/4 of an acre counts as a farm. Doesn't it? Doesn't it??? Wah.

So I'd love to hear from other people who blog about their February "thing-a-day". If you join, leave a comment here and we'll keep each other inspired! Wouldn't it be cool to create a gift for someone each and every day? Hey, I might actually be ready for the holidays this year. Maybe.

My inbox this morning

2007-10-30T08:23:00.000-04:00





The first thing I read in my inbox this
morning was a lovely quote from Storypeople:

  
Leaves of Music


"She seemed to move
everywhere dancing &
music followed her like
leaves on the wind."


The next one was serendipitously related.  There's
something here for me.I recognized the need
for a brain "zap" in regards to my art.
Robert Genn sends out a bi-weekly newsletter
for those that sign up. Here is today's gem:


You are the music

October 30, 2007

Dear Ren,

Neurologist Oliver Sacks's latest book, "Tales of Music
and the Brain," tells of various cranial disorders
that have led tomusical sensitivity and ability.
For example, hit by lightning,a man suddenly begins
to compose and conduct music. Thisreminded me of
the vacationing Augustus John, a mediocre art
student at age 19, diving into the sea at Tenby,
Wales, hitting his head on an underwater rock and
emerging a celebrated genius. The blow did considerable
damage, forced him to take the year 1897 for recovery,
and created a before-and-after scenario that everyone noticed.
Naturally, I've always wondered if this sort of effect
might be artificially produced--some simple clunk to the
head or laying on of hands that hot-wires
candidates to creative success.

Many of us thrive on combinations of strong desire
and relentless application. While relatively slow-going,
this has been the traditional and sensible route toward
creative evolution. Natural genius may speed things up.
But you may have noticed that natural geniuses sometimes
don't go far. They too may need a lightning strike to
fully manifest. An epiphany, a door suddenly closed,
or perhaps some form of hysteria--self-generated
or inflicted from without--might just
be the catalyst.

In "Four Quartets," T.S. Elliot writes,
"You are the music; while the music lasts."
One has insights, makes progress and
gets results only while the music is being made.
And this goes for easel time too. Elliot's poem
suggests the special state required for the creative act.
Concepts like "flow" involve being one with the
activity--a kind of psychic space unlike
ordinary life.

The idea of bold, frenetic, compulsive or obsessive
action as the great begetter of art is at the core
of this sort of thinking. "Boldness has genius,
power and magic," said Johann Wolfgang von Goethe.
"Engage, and the mind grows heated. Begin,
and the work will be completed." Goethe was no
stranger to unkindly blows, either. Funnily,
or perhaps not funnily, the hindrances to bold
action line up like the deadly sins--laziness,
sloth, indifference, boredom, etc. Getting hit
on the head may be the blessed event that invites
creative being and acting. We are tasered--and
our work continues to taser us. Stunned, we stay
on the job. Sensitized and electrified, we make
gains by simply doing it. There are worse
things that can happen to people.

Best regards,

Robert

PS:  "I have often seen quite demented patients
recognize and respond vividly to paintings and
delight in the act of painting at a time when
they are scarcely responsive, disoriented, and
out of it." (Oliver Sacks)

Esoterica: Strict instructions to wannabe
artists don't always work. Directions like
"go to your room and work five hours a
day and produce 30 finished works a month"
can trigger the old self-sabotage response.
There's something else. Somehow the
neural tissue needs to be realigned so
the artist sets a new course of his own volition.
In my observation, it's a self-anointed,
narcissistic ego-force that awakens the mad
mentor within. Artist, zap thyself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Self anointed. Autodidacts. Ego-force.

Yes, there is something truly magical about just doing,
deciding a thing is worth your time and then taking
steps toward it. So simple, yet it
slips through our fingers so easily.

I hear so many people in society saying things like
"I wish ________" fill in the blank with whatever
thing they long for that they've decided is not
in the stars for them. Or that famous "If__________"
fill in the blank again with the excuse about why
they can't do something they long to do.

We choose. We choose with our life and if the life we
have isn't what we want, it was simply a series of
choices that led us to the life we don't want. So make
different choices.

Different choices look small. They look like unimportant
things we do each and every day. They look like meals
and who we are with and what we choose to give our energy to
and ways we respond to stimulus. It looks like very small
stuff indeed. But in those small choices we build a life.

I believe in building a life worth living.

Late night

2007-10-29T02:21:00.001-04:00

So it's 2:21am here in Eastern Tennessee and I'm wondering why I have no new email. Doesn't anyone else stay up half the night? Doesn't anyone else get energetic around midnight? Anyone? Hellooooooo.....

I've always been a night owl. My kids are too. Society doesn't seem to understand us. It's like you're a bad parent if your kids aren't in bed by a certain time and you must be a little bit "off" if you stay up until the wee hours of the morning.

Some of us are just programmed that way I guess. It isn't insomnia because I sleep hard once I lay down...
...unless some random thoughts start tripping around my brain. But that's unpredictable. It happens while falling asleep at times, early in the morning at other times (and believe me, I will NOT be awake early unless absolutely necessary or while camping).

Does anyone else have thoughts that force them to the computer at random times? Typing out your thoughts so they'll leave you the hell alone? I feel like that Amy Steinberg song; "I'm so sick of taking shit from my inner child, I wish she'd take a fucking nap or just stay quiet for a little while"
Yeah. Just for a while.
Let me organize my thoughts before a new one comes along, teasing and pestering the far corners of my brain. Pushing me to write, to create, to ponder.

We worked on Halloween costumes today. Jalen makes a perfectly adorable "Link" (from the video game series Zelda) and Ciara's "Corpse Bride"(Tim Burton movie) is slowly coming together. Jared's custom vampire fangs fit perfectly and I'm packing a box to mail to Trevor who has not decided when he's coming home yet. It's strange without him. I guess it's practice for when he moves out, but I'm not ready. Not yet. Maybe never.

I just wonder where all the other night owls are right now. 2:30am is a lonely time. Even with night owl kids around....they eventually give up and go to sleep like sane people. It's a quiet world outside. I'm missing Trevor and wondering how a person like me ever gets out of debt. Random thoughts. Typing to try and sort it all out. Feeling like crying because my oldest baby shouldn't be old enough to move away, or talk about marriage or anything of the sort because I don't feel old enough to be his mother. Everyone tries to warn you how fast childhood goes. You don't believe them until your child is an adult and then you scratch your head and wonder what happened.

Things like spilled food or broken mugs or cuss words or matted hair or dirty clothes or not brushing your teeth are insignificant really. It's the jokes and stories and playing in mud and making honey milk and eating nachos at 2am and Dracula movies and Link costumes and Obos and kittens climbing your leg and being ok with it all. No, not just being ok with it but reveling in it, enJOYing it, embracing this messy, inconvenient and miraculous thing called parenthood.

When your kid leans down to hug you someday, what do you want them to remember? A parent that dropped everything to go get a hissing cockroach and ended up with a rabbit instead? A parent that jumped into the tub with their clothes on? Or a parent that followed the rules and made them brush their teeth and worried about eating some Red40? Life is short. Childhood is even shorter. In some cases far shorter than anyone could have imagined.

Willie Wonka said "We are the music makers and we are the dreamers of the dream". The dream is to be a memory maker. That's what we parents are; memory makers. They should be damn good ones in the time we have. I think filling up your life with good memories is better than worrying about making your life a longer one. Fill up the years you have with the best stuff possible. Drink coffee like it's the most healing elixir on earth, and it will be. Make it good. That's what it's all about.

I miss my son. I smile at the smaller one looking like Link in the hammock chair right now. I sigh at my sweet Ciara snuggled in bed,having given up on her Mum coming to bed anytime soon. We have costumes to complete tomorrow, we have a box to mail and bills to pay. Before then I need to sleep. Soon. Truly I will. I'm just glad I don't have to hide a book with a dim light and spend the first half of a school day struggling to stay awake. School was hell for me that way. Nobody drags me out of bed or dumps water on me to wake me anymore. When morning must intrude on my sleep, a coffee will do the trick. A warm, comforting cuppa. My choice. My way. Nobody else to dictate my sleep schedule.

I'm a night owl. Happily so. Anyone up for some chit chat? I'm here.:)

Zen moments

2007-10-23T06:14:00.001-04:00

In creating Zen moments, or pausing to honor the Zen within, I am often struck by the beauty and grandeur of simple things. This gunpowder tea for instance. It begins as little, pebbly lumps of dry leaves. So tightly furled as to be unrecognizable. Kind of like a soul that has been molded and shaped for too long.

When those lumps of leaves meet with hot water, something truly divine begins to happen. They unfurl. Splendidly. Gracefully. An ethereal dance with the meeting of nature and man (or woman in this case).:)

I always watch in awe, as the leaves begin to open, share their flavor with the water and begin the slow, spinning swirl to the bottom of the french press.

Those tiny, pebbly beginnings do not tell of the leaf shape inside, but it's there all the same, waiting for it's moment to share goodness with those that stop to partake, showing it's origins and the plant it came from. The process is one I cherish. Not only the awakening of the leaves and the idea of unfurling, but the straining process...

...which leaves behind an amber colored liquid, reflecting sunlight, hinting at warmth and comfort for the soul.

We add a bit of sweetness in the form of raw sugar. It swirls in it's own dance to the bottom of the cup, dissolving ever so slowly in the amber warmth.

Pure Zen.
Pause and reflect.
Cherishing simple things.

Warm the soul.

Connections.

Bliss.

The universe

in a

cup

of

gunpowder tea.

Life lesson in a poem

2007-05-30T11:46:00.000-04:00

Listening to NPR on my way to work yesterday, they recited a poem that brought tears to my eyes. I wrote about the idea of a "beautiful mess" before. This poem really hit home for me yesterday.

I go through something I call "grieving cycles" where I feel sad and mourn for the things I've lost in this life. It seems to come and go, as natural as any other cycle. I'm beginning to wonder if it's always near the full moon.

Not sure if it's all the strawberries that remind me of my Mum, or the full moon, but I've been missing her lately. I was thinking about her, and about Hannah and my friend Ricky and some other people I carry with me always.....when this poem came over the air. There has also been a push lately, in my heart, to get closer to the earth, get closer to a truly sustainable way of life.....which feels so far away at times but I keep on taking baby steps. For me, it's taking steps toward authenticity. So perhaps you'll understand why this poem tugged at my heartstrings so.

It's titled "Advice to Myself" by Louise Erdrich. I won't re-post the entire poem, as that may be problematic due to copyright laws. This segment represents the poem well:

" Let the wind have its way, then the earth
that invades as dust and then the dead
foaming up in gray rolls underneath the couch.
Talk to them. Tell them they are welcome.
Don't keep all the pieces of the puzzles
or the doll's tiny shoes in pairs, don't worry
who uses whose toothbrush or if anything
matches, at all.
Except one word to another. Or a thought.
Pursue the authentic-decide first
what is authentic,
then go after it with all your heart."

Read it. Really. I believe I shall frame it and read it every day......to remind me of what is really important in life. Because we all need reminders. And life is too short to not pursue the authentic, even if it takes a bit of "selling out" to get there.

A Cuppa....

2007-04-09T11:16:00.000-04:00

After a busy and slightly overwhelming week, I got a pause this morning to re-connect with abundance. Having just cleaned up the kitchen from yesterday's feast, I celebrated by brewing a cuppa tea before starting in on preparation for leaving town in the morning.

The words on my tea bag made me pause. I smiled. I thought about all the good things surrounding me and I reflected on last night.

We enjoyed a Birthday celebration, surrounded by friends, talented musicians, food and good beer (always a plus). Some moments stand out of course......

~My wee man (6years of age) blowing up a balloon then releasing the air under a ladies mini-skirt. Oh yes, it flew up high, causing a movie-like effect. It was beautiful.

~Dancing with my 10 year old as she and I pretended to do the Tango. Is that why my neck hurts this morning?

~Watching my friend smile as the room swelled with food and people to celebrate her special day.

~Watching my three children that attended, run up and down the sidewalk making loud noises with the contraption that wee man invented; a noisemaker stripped of the paper parts, shoved inside a balloon and blown up over and over again to make a looooooooong lasting noise.

~Shuffling to music that involved something called a "gut bucket" ...I'm pretty sure that's a southern thing.:)

~Holding hands with the man I married almost 18 years ago, and not only enjoying his presence but thinking how very attractive he was.

~Wearing high heeled, sassy boots and not having my foot hurt at all (just some dull ache to remind me the burn is there) while dancing last night.

~Waking up to a messy kitchen, which reminded me of all the fun we had yesterday.

~Getting said kitchen cleaned up and starting the food prep for a wonderful trip tomorrow.

Then I'm thinking about getting on the road to meet up with more friends and watch my joyful children be with some of their favorite people in the whole world down at the Carolina coast. I was feeling happy that my foot has healed for the most part (burned it a couple weeks ago pretty severely) and I'm making cinnamon rolls today.

I was also grateful for the good friends we ate Easter dinner with yesterday....our "created" family. We were filled up yesterday. Filled up with connections and beer and food and hugs and dancing and jokes and smiles and noisemakers and craziness.

As I stood there with my happy feelings, I looked over at my mug of tea steeping. The tag hung out and upon it there were three words; Cup of Joy, and I knew what I wanted to blog about.

What's in your cup of joy today?

A beautiful mess

2007-03-31T23:57:00.000-04:00

Life is messy. Plain and simple.

I chose this picture because it is a good example of the beautiful messes we make because we're alive and well. I've been feeling a bit empty lately. Lots of feelings and ideas, but without the tools to put any of it into words. Messy stuff these emotions.

When we dance, we get sweaty.
When we love, sometimes there is hurt.
When we travel, there is discomfort.
When we paint or make films or have babies or bake cinnamon rolls or drive or garden or grow we make MESS. Big, beautiful messes. Messes that are usually fixable, but sometimes not. Our words can cause joy or pain. Our actions, our choices, our passions and dreams are all connected to mess.

Life is just messy stuff isn't it? So rather than try to put into words how I feel that joy and mess are interconnected, I figured I'd just ask you all what you think. If anyone is left to read this, after my neglect of this blog. :)

How is your life a beautiful mess? What makes a beautiful mess anyway? What passions do you have that connect the joy and the pain and the creations and the mess? How do you embrace the yin/yang of it all?

Everything that matters most to me in this life has involved mess or pain of one kind or another. I suppose we can't have the great moments, without the messy parts. Sometimes we glide through moments like a graceful skater on moonlit ice....other times we fumble around like a drunk in a dark room. But we keep on reaching, keep on dreaming, keep on living and dying don't we?

The idea of a "Beautiful Mess" was inspired by my friend Jenn, someone I've yet to meet in real life who inspires me constantly. She wrote:

" No matter who you are or what you want, it will always be about a beautiful mess. It will be about what you go out to find, even if only right outside your front door. It's not always waiting for you in the remote places; it's how you feel about being remote and what you do with those feelings. It's not in the crowds in those places on earth, it's right inside you. Your soul is waiting for words from others. Wanting to absorb them and learn from them. Waiting to put them into the right categories. That is the mission in life. A sorting machine is what I am. What you are. What all is. Sorting things and absorbing their meaning is like fuel for a fire or food for thought. It's what you do with it that matters in life. Nothing else. It's all about what you do with your own beautiful mess. How you absorb it. What you feel. What you do with those feelings."

On living and dying

2006-11-30T13:36:00.002-05:00

I made the spirit doll in honor of my mother earlier
this year. She is one of three dolls that were made
alike, at the same time.

Each of them are now unique, due to the fact that myself and my sisters adorned them with personal mementos of my mother. My own doll holds a broach and pendant that belonged to her in this life.

The quilt is made from pieces of her clothing. My Father had it made as a gift after she died for her three birth daughters. When I feel a need to talk with her, I often snuggle inside, remembering our time together.

I have a new relationship with the people that have left this earth. My relationship with them did not die when their physical form moved on, but it changed drastically. Coming to terms with that new relationship is what the grieving process is all about.

I think about the life-death cycle often. I like to believe my family will honor my very strong feelings about not relegating death to a cold institution, a ridiculous and expensive coffin or service that does not celebrate life. It saddens me to see our loss of connection to the birth-death cycle in our society, our fear of touching and seeing death. We are, as a society, uncomfortable with death and it isn't healthy.

One of the most profound and moving essays on this topic was posted recently at the 37 days blog. "Forever Hold Your Penguin Dear" by Patti Digh is a fine example of words that reach right into your heart and stir the ancient truths about death and how we respond to loss.

I sat here this morning, with tears running down my face as I read the story of a family that chose to honor the death cycle in a beautiful and life affirming way. I read about the way they annointed this young person's body with herbs and oils, how they celebrated their connection to her both in life and in death. It moved me deeply and this story will hopefully inspire others to examine the rituals surrounding death and burial, and just how we honor the loved one that has left their body behind.

We humans grasp onto the gossamer threads of possessions left behind, of these scraps and bits that connect us to our loved ones. We dig into the past trying to hold memories, touch and voices. We talk to the spirits that move through the air, trying to convince ourselves of something real, something true, something that can't be taken away.

There is a fabulous quote that I keep nearby: "The hard inescapable phenomenon to be faced is that we are living and dying at once. My commitment is to report that dialogue." Stanely Kunitz is a wise man. I often question my work and whether I am archiving that living and dying experience in my own way.

Today I am alive and well. I have received the gift of another day of life, and moved one more day towards the grave. Every day we have is a gift. But every day is also one day less.
In becoming a parent we celebrate the fact that we have brought a new life into this world, but we often fail to remember that we have also brought another death into this world. Living and dying. That's what we earthlings do. I want to honor that process by celebrating the living and dying we're doing together, by weaving ritual around the process and drinking of the joy that is in it all.

Diana Jenner has inspired me time and again in the way that she has chosen to honor Hannah. I take pause today to remember not only the loved one's I have lost, but the chain of life reaching back into the millenia. I think of the ancestors that could not have imagined the world in which I live, the blood spilled on the ground which we walk every day without notice, the life and death that is all around us at every turn. I want to tread gently on this sacred ground, this sacred day....this day that will bring both life and death into our world.

Obos and stuff

2006-11-14T12:06:00.000-05:00

I started today with a really great email from Robert Genn, who sends out a twice-weekly email to anyone that signs up for his brand of wisdom. It was about "Obos", stacks of rocks left for nature to reclaim, or the aware eye to find. Here's his email:

Dear Ren,

Some weeks ago an anonymous subscriber wrote: "The
Painter's Keys" is not a website--it's a vision.
It's a vision of a universal brotherhood and sisterhood,
timeless and for all time. It's a vision of solitary
strugglers who are united in the obligation for quality
while serving their own individualist dreams. What we
artists do is noble and life-enhancing for others. It
requires a balance between outward learning and inward
contemplation. Thank you for providing this shrine."

I often think of these words. I'm deeply proud that there
are many who get the point. Our website is certainly one
manifestation of that shrine, and while it is not a physical
spot or a spiritual dogma, it might be a metaphor.

Years ago, I started placing small "obos" in remote places. An
obos is a Japanese term for a pile of rocks, often only three,
one on top of another. The obos merely says, "I was here."
Being an unusual configuration, it is obviously from the hand
of man. Further, if it is knocked down or desecrated, it is
easily rebuilt. There can be one at the bottom of the garden or
in a private corner of a public park. I've seen obos among
potted bonsai in a sparse apartment high above Park Avenue's
clatter. So you know what I'm talking about, I've asked Andrew
to illustrate an obos in the current clickback. See URL below.

On one of our west coast islands, I built a few obos on a rocky
foreshore just above the tide. Returning twenty years later, I
found them still intact and dressed in moss, as if spirited
there by some ancient coastal cult.

Obos is a destination, a sanctuary, a shrine and a focal point
that reminds us that we work with our hands. We are builders
and what we build is sacred. Obos may appear inconsequential
and be unnoticed by casual passersby. It's a private tribute to
something higher, something we might be striving for but find
difficult to attain. Approach obos with a relaxed, curious
mind. It can help with answers to questions not consciously
asked. Obos gives pause, a contemplative thought or a new
direction, a respite from clutter, a rededication to our
struggle and an affirmation of the value of our personal
effort. Obos is the carrier of a golden secret. Obos is like
art itself. Obos is a joy to build.

Best regards,

Robert

PS: "I slept and dreamt that life was joy. I awoke and saw
that life was service. I acted and behold, service was joy."
(Rabindranath Tagore)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I'm enchanted with the idea of "Obos" now. Four years ago, when my mother lay in the hospital dying and I was scheduled to fly home the next morning, I visited the beach with my children. In a very natural and flowing way, I sculpted a small shrine there, with the materials available: a feather, shells and driftwood. Art is available to us all, if we use the materials we have and express what is within. Obos are one way to share the joy of sculpting. Nature provides many chances for thoughtful expression.

Later, I responded to an email from a new aquaintance, the very woman that introduced me to the beautiful music of Amy Steinberg.
Susan Lachman is the person behind the voice of "women on air" that airs from Johnson City every Friday afternoon from WETS, an affiliate of NPR. I heard her interview with Amy once-upon-a-time and fell in love with the message and music. One of her songs reminds me regularly that I am "exactly where I need to be".

So anyhoo....as I sometimes do, I googled Susan's name to see what else she's up to (I hope you don't mind Susan):) and found out about the "Leaf" project. where the artist Carol Ann Newsome creates these small works of art and leaves them all over for people to find. I believe she's planted 5,000 so far! Amazing project, fab idea.

Reading about the Leaf project led to information on something called the "Good Goddess" which I thought was a yearly festival, but after researching figured out it was a traveling art exhibition that was here many years ago. Darn!

Through that piece of information, I discovered an amazing artist named Charles Vess who lives just up the road in Abingdon VA. His work is absolutely stunning! Wander around a bit and enjoy the visual and mental massage.

You know, that's one of the greatest things about technology, the ability to make very fast connections with people, places and new information. I love that I can start with a serendipitous connection to a local person and go wandering about the planet finding other artists, art, ideas and inspiration. It's all connected and I love being a traveler discovering those connections.

**Above photo is by Joanna McKasy, taken at Denali National Park Alaska

37 Days

2006-11-06T21:30:00.000-05:00

~*"Whatever you think you can do or believe you can do, begin it. Action has magic, grace and power in it.”~

There is a blog that I love to visit. The project started when the author's Father was diagnosed with cancer and died 37 days later. The focus is about what you would do if you had just 37 days left. Her challenge is to do something, anything for 37 days. I'm posting it here as I've decided to take this as an opportunity to practice some discipline.

For the next 37 days I will do at least ONE thing towards marketing myself. One thing towards getting some art classes started here or running a creativity workshop or getting my book proposal ready to mail off (or actually mailing it IN)....SOMETHING each day that helps me move forward with the marketing aspects of my passions, even if it's as simple as buying some stamps. 37 days. Five minutes, or 10 minutes or one action, it matters not. Just that I DO something each and every day.

Lives can change in the daily actions.
~*“Magic is believing in yourself, if you can do that, you can make anything happen.”~

I have a book titled "The Power of 5" that outlines the importance of repeated actions. It's so easy to put things off because they seem large and intimidating.
Starting a business.
Taking a big trip.
Building a house.
Getting organized.
Losing weight.
Being healthier.

In reality, we just need to DO it.
It's not the grand, sweeping actions that define the pattern of our lives. It's the daily things and in just minutes per day we can create habits and begin entire journeys.

I believe in the power of daily actions. I believe in myself. I believe the next 37 days will open doors for me. And so I begin (or really continue, in a more focused manner).........

*Both quotes are from Johann Wolfgang von Goethe.

Collage and stuff

2006-10-28T01:15:00.000-04:00

Here's where the artist thing becomes a bit of a pain. I'm wide awake at 2am, which wouldn't matter except that my sleep schedule is a bit on the unpredictable side at times. It wouldn't matter, except that my children will expect a coherent mother in the morning, as will my out-of-town visitors and my co-workers. sigh.

BUT, because of my inability to sleep I've been mucking about online and found some really great links to share. You know how one thing leads to another? Well, I started with Art Shrines, which led to a fabulous artist in New Zealand named Dale Copeland and a compelling collage exchange she organizes.

Now I'm inspired to create the required 13 collages and mail them over to New Zealand. Causes me to ponder if a similar project would work at Imagination Tribe. Hmmmmmmmmm.......

Either way, collage projects are calling me. Oh, and the miniature shrines and a few IT trades and, oh yeah, there's that fundraiser thing I promised to organize. Ok maybe I can sleep now. Hope my muse knows I need a nap.

**Above image is one of my pages from the Imagination Tribe circle journal 2005**

Days of the Dead

2006-10-26T11:25:00.000-04:00

We're working on a *Day of the Dead art trade over at Imagination Tribe, entries being due on the 2nd. Having already received a couple trade items, I'm getting more inspired. Sierra and I worked on ours and came up with some that we're really happy with, though my **shrine is staying here with me. Sometimes I can't bear to part with something. It's also an inch larger than the size parameters so I have my excuse to not send it away.:)

I've really enjoyed this trade immensely. The onslaught of cold weather lends itself to turning within, journeys into self and a hunkering down at home with loved ones and hot soup. Something about this time of year causes me to slow down and create more art and writing.

I had a night where the past felt overwhelmingly painful last week, swirling up feelings of loss. I cried for my mother, great grandmother and mother-in-law, I cried for Hannah Jenner and all the parents that don't have their babies in arms. I opened a box if keepsakes and cried over the past that I can't touch any longer....bits of notes from loved ones and times that will never be again. Loss. It's such a powerful word.

Kahlil Gibran said "Your joy is your sorrow unmasked. And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears.
And how else can it be?
The deeper the sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain. Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter's oven? And is not the lute, the very wood that was hollowed with knives?
When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy.
When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight."

Yin-Yang. Balance. Universal flow.
I find his words resonate with me. It's all part of this journey. Learning to accept loss as a natural part of our visit to this earth helps us release that which no longer has a place here with us. As much as I would love to hold onto my mother, that was not her journey. I trust her journey is exactly what it's meant to be, even if it causes my pain.

*Days of the Dead is a time to reflect on death and life and losing loved ones. It is a time to honor those we've loved that have died. It is a time to go within and find the joy of the season, to celebrate life and light and all that we enjoy. As our part of this planet spins itself towards darkness, it is time to enjoy the quiet season. The harvest is in, the labor is finished for now, it's time for reflection and connection.

*Dias de los Muertos starts on October 31st and finishes on November 2nd.
**Quotes on the shrine are: "To the well-organised mind, death is but the next great adventure." ~Albus Dumbledore
"Death--the last sleep? No, it is the final awakening." ~Sir Walter Scott

Broken bowl mosaic

2006-10-23T23:48:00.000-04:00

Thought I'd share my first attempt at mosaic, the very one I mentioned in "Growing Beyond Blame". I'm pretty happy with it, though I learned a lot about what NOT to do next time. I affixed all the bits and pieces to an 18" square tile purchased at Lowes.

Confidence (or how to grow some)

2006-10-22T15:06:00.000-04:00

These are pictures of artwork that I find absolutely stunning. The *person who created these recently joined Imagination Tribe and has shared many of her fears and insecurities about her own art. I'm displaying these to show that talent and skill level have NO connection to our confidence level.

Her art speaks volumes. It is what I aspire to as an artist. Yet she deals with the same fears and grapples with the same insecurities that I (and so many others) do.
Many of us are acting as bulwarks against generations of fear perpetuated, against wholeness robbed. We are saying "no more" and plunging into the life of a creative regardless of the outcome. We are telling the universe that we BELIEVE, that we are worthy. We are trying to be a buffer for our children, so they can lay claim to their own gifts without the weight of second guessing themselves.

There is an article on this very topic, that this person posted yesterday. It brought me to tears because it speaks directly to my own journey:
"Just Like a Goddess" is a must-read in my opinion.

The only way to rid ourselves of these negative messages, is to ignore them. We choose the voices we will hear. I choose the voices of my sisters. I choose the voices of strong, beautiful women that create art or writing or cooking or whatever is in their hearts to create, with confidence and strength. I choose my gifts today. I choose the creative life. I choose to let joy be my guide, not fear.

*All artwork by Laura Bowman

Delicious Living

2006-10-17T19:25:00.000-04:00

Community: a : joint ownership or participation b : common character : LIKENESS c : social activity : FELLOWSHIP d : a social state or condition

What makes life delectable? What people, places or things nourish our spirit and lend a richness to our day? I've been thinking about this in terms of community, the kind of people and activities that define the framework of our days and give tide to the rhythm of the seasons. The essence of community for me is not only about my "tribe" but about ritual and flow. Sometimes it's a delightfully spontaneous moment but much of my community is about the thrum of everyday life.

I am fortunate enough to have likeminded friends (whom I refer to as my "tribe") all over the country and even in far flung corners of the globe. They are available to me any time I sit here at my computer. The beauty of technology is the rich connections we've made with people that are not a part of the local area in which we choose to live. People which I think about and converse with. People I met online and then in real life that help me grow as a human being and challenge me to dig deeper.

~The Old Sweet Shop; always bring quarters to crank up the player piano
~The Museum Warehouse; a mad array of imports made by tribal people in foreign countries
~The Jonesborough Library; 'nuff said
~First Friday; Art galleries stay open late and we always run into a few people we know.
~MAC counter; work friends that help me grow as an artist and make me laugh.
~Park day; meeting up with other homeschoolers and unschoolers rates pretty high on the priority list
~Nord's games; where we can discuss needed D&D items or new games we'd like to play.
~Michael's; to replenish the constant flow of art supplies being used.
~Hands-On Museum; from painting and freezing shadows to iguanas and a mini-grocery store.
~Music on the Square; what could be better than some bluegrass and sidewalk chalk?
~Acoustic Coffeehouse; dark beer, chalkboard walls, art, independent musicians, who could ask for more?

These people and places are the framework for our regular days. Community; today I sat with some friends that live nearby and assembled an art project that involved 20 people from different states and one from Canada. We sat and drank Chai tea, chatted about life in general and shared our amazement at the different ways each participant expressed themselves in this project. These times make my life feel rich and full, the moments we connect with others near or far and share our days. My Tribe.

This year has seemed to be all about community, all about soul connections and deep friendships. There have been connections made in Albuquerque, in the mountains of North Carolina, the flatlands of South Carolina and right here at home. My daughter connects with her Pensacola community via constant internet and phone conversations every day. We all make connections with new and old friends through MySpace and other internet forums.

I think we need to surround ourselves with positive, brilliant and beautiful people that aren't afraid to shine. I think we need these soul connections with likeminded (and not-so-likeminded) people to help us grow and learn and open our eyes. My community nourishes me deeply. Community is a safe place during the storms of life, it is a haven for our spirit and a boost in the arm when we need it. Community.

My creativity list (Imagination Tribe) has allowed me to participate in and run several trades and collaberative projects that bring home the message of community in a powerful way.

Through community we have experienced the charm of collaberation. Collaberative projects take on a whole different feel than art and writing we do on our own. One of the circle journals we made at Imagination Tribe sits near my bed. I cherish the diverse and interesting pages brought together by collaberative energy. Working together while expressing individuality is a fabulous way to encourage creative expression.

So here's to community and collaberation! Here's to the freedom to create the community of your choosing and expressing self through partnerships and connections. Here's to friends that enrich our lives and the places we love to visit and revisit.
Community..... a small word that holds an immense definition. Life is delicious!!

Coffee-time

2006-10-14T10:35:00.000-04:00

I was sitting at Starbucks a few weeks ago, on a lunchbreak. Sitting there thinking and observing (as I often do) led to some writing (as often happens) about the comparison between corporate and private business. I'm not anti-corporation, I'm just against the exploitation, greed and harm most big businesses cause. Oh, and the lack of personality, character and uniqueness that should be part of a business...ok, I'm anti-corporation.

My Grandfather used to talk about the lack of uniqueness that was becoming prevalent back in the 70's. He said "If you stuck me in any city in the country, I could have told you which city it is by the different buildings and businesses. I couldn't do that today,they all look the same". He bemoaned the influx of sameness, brought on by big corporations and chains.

This man is an icon in my world. He left home at 15 to make it on his own. He's seen more countries than most, worked in Saudi Arabia, moved to Alaska as a young father to create a life on his own terms. He became wealthy, but always stayed humble, connected and modest. I don't doubt that his views have influenced many of my own.

So here's the discourse I wrote, while sitting at Starbucks enjoying my lunchbreak:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Starbucks; slick, clean, oh-so-symetrical and glossy. It's the vogue of coffeeshops. Graphic artist paradise.
Acoustic coffeehouse; busy, swirling activity, sounds clash, colors jump out, people don't match but they laugh oh-so-loudly. Artist paradise.

I like my mountain-high pile of gooey, salsified nachos and a dark beer to wash down the live music and conversation at Acoustic. We leave chalk messagess in the bathroom and chat with pirates and a beautiful man from Kenya.

I sit sipping on dark roast with cream and raw sugar, with a tidy cut of coffee cake today. Politically correct music plays over loudspeakers as people come and go. I write messages to myself and talk to no one, though a smile or two may pass among strangers. Strangers that look like students and professionals--I wonder where the pirates are on days like these. Pirates or dark-skinned men from Kenya or strong women that sing passionately and aren't afraid to cuss or admit how they really feel. A guy sitting out front with his guitar and dog is sounding really good right now.

But I'll politely sip my coffee, glance up occasionally to see strangers come and go and think about how sterile this world is becoming thanks to places like Starbucks, where I drink my afternoon coffee and dream of raw edginess and colorful people.
Verone blend anyone?
Cheers.

Being true to self

2006-10-10T09:54:00.000-04:00

This is my good friend Nielah. She and I have major philosophical differences, yet this person inspires me and uplifts me everytime I see her. Nielah is one of those people that is so full of life, so full of love for what she does and so in the FLOW of spirit that you can't help but feel inspiration in her presence. Her gifts to the world are dancing and singing. They are gifts of the heart, born from the depths of creativity and passion.

She is my symbol for the topic I've been pondering this week. I'm not even sure how to formulate what's been swirling through my mind in some succinct manner, but it's the difference between bending yourself to fit other's expectations, and touching others through your gifts. The first one seeks to conform, while the second seeks to heal. Touching people, reaching them through your art (whatever form it takes) is the greatest gift. But you can't reach others by trying to please others. It doesn't work that way.

I got a serendipitous email this morning, one of the Robert Genn twice-weekly letters. Here's a segment:

~~"I admit it, every time I paint a picture--or write my
twice-weekly letter--I'm thinking that something in what I do
might bring value to another person. I believe that reaching
out and connecting with others may just happen to be our
highest calling. In the regular inflow of emails, many artists
tell me that they don't paint to please anyone but themselves.
A lot of this attitude, while commendable in some ways, is a
cloud of smoke.

It's my observation that all of us, no matter how iconoclastic
and independent, while looking to our own sparkplugs, also keep
our eyes on connectivity. I don't know how you feel about it,
but I think universal love gets into art, too. Without
connectivity in our lives there's no reason to keep our
sparkplugs sparking. It's not a difficult plot."~~

While I agree with Mr. Genn, I think he needs to elaborate on this idea.
Yes, I agree that the connectivity is everything, but I don't believe you'll find that connectivity without first learning to NOT care what anyone thinks
Going within is the way to GET to those connections and reaching others.

I spent this last weekend with some really fabulous people. All of them inspired me in different ways. One person I was chatting with asked me a lot about the creativity coaching I do and how I came to that place. It reminded me just how much healing happened along that path and how important it was for me to excavate what was within ME. As I excavated an authentic life, it naturally began to swirl up and affect others I came in contact with.

As we go within, as we excavate our own passions and interests, we will naturally affect everyone around us. Sharing our gifts requires a deep journey into self, where we find that beauty only we possess. That beauty, brought to the surface of our every day living has the power to not only heal our spirit, but touch others.

I am constantly in awe at all the inspiration I get from kindred spirits that are willing to follow their life's passions and share their gifts. I am constantly in awe at how many people tell me that *I* have done or said something that helped them! In awe because you don't even have to TRY to reach anyone, you just have to stay the course, trusting that which is within and be willing to share. Community is a powerful thing.

Which brings me to my next line of thought...the power of collaberation. But that's for another day.:) Keep trusting the interests you have in your heart, they are the key to an authentic life and deep connections with others. It just keeps getting better.

Growing beyond blame

2006-10-03T09:48:00.000-04:00

At the Unschooling Basics list, there was a question about acheiving one's dreams (or the lack thereof) and whether or not it's ok to blame your parents for the damage they did. I'm lifting my response, because I've been thinking about this topic a lot:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So I'm not allowed to blame my parents?"

Depends.
YES, I think you have a right to be angry at their
lack of support. I think anger is the first step to
healing. I think you have every right to examine what
they did wrong, turn it over and look at every angle
and in every light. I think seeing clearly where they
didn't help you, will actually be a very important piece
in letting it go.

So blame them for their actions or lack of actions. BUT,
don't blame them as an excuse for what you are or are not
today. Because now it's up to you. You have a choice to
be bigger and better than their limitations. You have a
right to everything your heart desires. You are worthy
and beautiful and talented. Their limited and limiting view
of YOU is NOT what you are about!! That's it. Simple right?

Disentangling ourselves from our parents view of us is
sometimes more complicated than all that. That's why I believe
it is SO important for us to be that clear/calm pool, so that
we reflect the TRUTH of our children back to themselves, rather
than some distorted view that is filtered through fears and
judgement.

It's a process. One that you can live in each moment. When
you hear that voice saying "I'm not good enough" you can LAUGH
in it's face and say "that isn't ME!! I AM good, I AM talented
I AM successful" YOUR voice wouldn't put you down, would it?
So that must be someone elses voice getting inside your head
and it has no right to be there any longer.:)

Replace all those voices with positive self-talk. Practice
self-kindness and compassion. Give yourself and your
children all that positive talk that your parents could
not give you. Recognize that it wasn't about YOU at all...
it was their own lack and self-perception that allowed them
to rob you of fullness. It was about THEM, not YOU.

Maybe you already know this logically. But I think
emotionally you're hanging onto some of the fears they
dumped on you. They had no right to do it, but they truly
didn't know better. So let it go. Let yourself be the fullest
expression of YOU. You are not defined by anyone elses
expectations or ideas. Go ahead.....be larger than life!!
It's ok to be grand and beautiful and amazing. It's ok
to be in the spotlight. It's ok to be the master and captain
of your ship....don't let anyone tell you differently.:) It's
also ok to surround yourself with people that buy into your
dreams and limit people that aren't going to support it.
Create the world you NEED to nourish yourself and
your BIG dreams. Then simply live the passion each day,
without any limiting ideas of what those dreams look like.
Just BE a singer.
Because you are.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So the issue of unsupportive parents was addressed, but the part I
keep going back to is the whole idea of our dreams. This person was talking
about shedding a lot of tears the last five years because her dream of
becoming a successful singer has not happened. Life changed and she--like
so many others--essentially gave up on the dream.

The first part of this equation is having a rigid idea of what "success" looks like and holding onto it so tightly we miss the meandering journey that the universe holds for us. Dreams should not be some concrete, static thing that we shoot for. If the joy is in the passion we carry, then the dream IS the passion not some mainstream idea of what FORM that passion should take. Passions are greater than all that. We don't have to achieve a certain status or level of success to be nourished and fed by our passions. That is rather limiting really.

The other part is this........sometimes life throws a few curveballs. Sometimes OUR version of things gets turned upside down. It's what we do with those bits and pieces afterwards that decides whether our passions become a beautiful thing in this journey, or some poignant reminder that we aren't going to have what we thought we wanted.

I have a reminder of this sitting on my bedside table. It's an amateurish attempt at mosaic, my first mosaic. But let me back up a bit;

Once upon a time, in Pensacola Florida I worked one night a week at a ceramics shop. I painted a lot of ceramics back then so it only made sense that my husband recieved one of my creations for a birthday. I painted him a bowl with scenes from our lives on it, the places we lived, the things we'd accomplished and a lovely quote about who he was. It said "You have the heart of a musician, the soul of a dreamer and the mind of an adventurer". Which is still true.

That was the year our marriage came crashing down. I picked up the shattered pieces of my dreams and tried to move forward. They didn't fit quite the way I'd planned. After many months and a lot of heartache, we managed to reconcile and in that reconciliation find much growth.

But we entered into a completely different relationship and marriage than the one we'd had before. If I tried to hold on to MY version of "how things should be", it wouldn't have worked. In going with the flow, in being able to adapt and be creative, we've come to a better place than either of us could have imagined.

Our dreams do this sometimes. Letting go of that concrete version that looks like one thing, helps us achieve MORE. So back to the mosaic.....
That bowl I painted for my husband got dropped one day. It was in many pieces on the floor and I just looked at it and sighed. But I've been carrying those shards of broken ceramic with me. They were formed into the mosaic that sits by my bedside recently. It doesn't look anything like the bowl it first became. There are lovely bits of glass wedged in between, shiny blues and greens and whites.

It's a new and different work of art now. Not worse, not better, just different. It's inspiring in it's own way. Broken pieces don't have to be a reminder of what was lost...it can simply be it's own new and beautiful work. It depends what we do with those shards. In sculpting with those pieces we can find authentic success.

Chai recipe

2006-09-30T22:51:00.000-04:00

One of our favorite hot drinks around here is my Chai tea. According to Manisha, a friend from Bombay, "Chai" just means tea. So I'm using it in the more American form which means "sweet, creamy, spicy tea from India".

A pot of boiling Chai spices brings most of our family members into the kitchen. "Do I smell Chai cooking?" is the query most often heard or "how long until the Chai is ready?" It's ready when it's ready. Kind of like learning and development.

Soooo....thought some readers might need a creamy, spicy, good-to-your-toes, warming-the-soul kind of drink for this winter. Great for taking with you into meditation areas, for book reading or creating art, but we enjoy it most often clustered around the table with good conversation.

You will need (mind you, there are 6 people in our little family):

5 cups water
5 cups whole, organic milk (yes, organic is better in every way)
3 heaping tsp. whole Cardomon (green pods are great, but harder to find)
2 tsp. whole cloves
1 tsp. dried, ground ginger
4-6 cinnamon sticks
4-6 whole allspice
2 Tbs. Loose black tea (optional, we usually don't add this but some folks can't have chai without it)
1/2 cup sugar

Place water and all spices on hot stove, bring to boil. Cover and boil for 20 minutes. Add milk and sugar (and black tea if using) then re-heat (do not boil).
Strain and serve with good humor, warmth and willingness to converse.

Enjoy! I can smell the spices now........
Oh, and now that you have the official recipe, you are expected to serve a pot when good friends come to visit. Yep, even if you live in the hot South.;)

Feel good video for today

2006-09-27T15:11:00.000-04:00

This is a photo of my very uninhibited five year old, turning his breakfast crepe into a mask. Inhibitions are interesting things...they allow us to live in society, but they can also keep us from realizing our full potential if we are not mindful about their existence and just what effect they have on our psyche.

My friend Geri created "The Good News Network", which reports all the great things happening in the world. A video she had posted today, brought tears to my eyes. A man stands on the street with a "Free Hugs" sign as part of his Free Hugs Campaign. It's incredible what one human being can do and how letting go of inhibitions opens up the world in amazing ways.

I wondered if *I* would willingly stand on a street corner giving out hugs to strangers? Would you, could you?

Earlier this year, I watched a video about two men dancing on street corners, moving in whatever way they were inspired. It's interesting to watch the reactions and think about our own inhibitions and how that applies to the rest of our lives. Winter of the Dance is inspirational to me, encouraging me to step beyond the boundaries of what is "acceptable" in our society. You can watch the actual video HERE.

I want to dance more freely, I want to embrace that which moves my spirit regardless of whether someone thinks me "strange", I don't want to blend harmoniously with the whole (though at the spirit level I do....) I want to wear my own colors and be perfectly alright if they don't blend in. In short, I want to LIVE and be bold and be crazy and have no regrets when I take my final bow. I'm glad for the free spirits that remind us to do this each and every day!

Anonymous quote:
"Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention
of arriving safely in a pretty and well-preserved body,
but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up,
totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming to the universe:
Wow — what a ride!"