The last few things

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

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

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....

...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

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

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

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

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

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

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 plant and human.



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

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 beautiful mess

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

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

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)

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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

~*"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

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

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

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.