messy and beautiful

This time of year is wondrous. The colors, the air, the feelings of something just around the corner

The change.

As summer slips away and the days are darker I feel more at peace. 

 Last week I  couldn't begin to breathe through the pain. Some days are like that. Today is a good day to take a moment, if you can, and pick up some leaves. Or even just pause and look at the landscape, the open fields or the pieces of sky between buildings. If you're in a place where the leaves are beginning to change, admire the greens dissolving into yellows, orange, red. Gaze at the colors and feel the beauty for a moment. If you have a kid and live in a place with falling leaves go collect a few. Make it an adventure. Walk slowly. Skip and gallop. Let them discover the world without being in a hurry for once. 

Breathe in the changing air. 

Do a craft if you feel like getting messy. 

Just take a moment and remember that life is always changing. It's good and it's bad and it's awful and it's mesmerizing and painful and messy and... it's oh, so beautiful.

an easy fall craft: pick up some leaves, grab some paint and paper and create your own tree. No rules, just mess, color and fun. Feel free to ditch the brush and use your hands.

I was going to post about crafting...

I know I'm not alone in feeling discouraged with our country today. This general wave of anger and hate that seems to wash over everything is unsettling, particularly for my introverted tendencies to sit, think and often dwell.

So many people are afraid and hurting. So many people are angry. People are killing. They always have. So many people have no escape. I feel so small. Smaller than usual. 

I often feel like my life is pathetic. I don't feel like I contribute anything to anyone, anywhere. I feel aimless. A shitty parent who can't cope with anything slightly atypical. A bad friend who thinks about my two best friends (and others) and my family more often than I contact them. A bad wife who nags too much. 

I am often silent when I want to rage. I'm afraid to rage because I don't want anyone to judge me. I have a pretty tough shell wrapped in gossamer layers and oh hell, the shell is cracked all over. It's going to explode. 

I am selfish and inane. I am suburban bullshit. I am doing nothing.

I feel like a dot in this mass of existence and the fires are raging around me and all I do is curl into a tiny ball and rouse myself from my semi-medicated state to pick up leaves with my son. I'm the crack in the sidewalk. Why are we all so broken?

I fully intended to post a little collage about doing leaf paintings with my three year old. I planned to write about the small things in life, the beauty in art and nature, how we can overlook some of the pain and do something pretty.

I don't have it in me. 

I feel like a sham.

I'm entitled.

I'm not fighting for my life on either side of this war that has raged for so many for so long. 

This is what poured out of my soul when I sat down to post about crafting in the midst of chaos and hurt. 

But I simply cannot. I'm wallowing in the pain. I know it's not okay and it doesn't make anything better.

I just need to sit and hurt a little in name of everyone who is hurting so much. It feels like nothing but I believe the thoughts are important. 

We should not stop thinking about this. We should not keep thinking this is okay.

We can't. 

What are you thinking about? Tell me. Let's talk.

abc's of the creative mama

My new project is a series of small paintings: the abc's of the creative mama.

These paintings are small for several reasons, the first being lack of time. I also feel like I have a lot of large, weepy, lovely feelings contained within a small space and these small paintings reflect that part of myself. 



A is for awake.

Always awake.

Awake for the baby. Even if the baby is sleeping. Awake for the quietest movement, the worry, the darkness. The light.

Awake and awash in the beauty.

Seeing things through a child's eyes is not a cliche. When my son is experiencing the beauty of something new, it awakens the childlike part of me that is tramped down, that is supposed to stay asleep in this world of work, pay bills, work, exist. In those moments of elation the world is new to me again. 

In my child's moments of sadness, anger, frustration, illness and fear I am also awakened. Sometimes it is so intense I feel like I am barely above water. I'm nearly drowning in all of these swirling emotions, the joy and the pain that is a human being growing and learning how to be a part of this tragic and beautiful world. 

As an artist, I feel hyper aware of the world around me. The hues of nature, a turquoise door, exposed brick walls, flowers growing in unexpected places, ice melting in a black lake, stacks of vivid fruit...the images that awaken me are endless. 

What is a wonderful B word that resonates with the idea of the creative mama? Leave me a comment below with your ideas :-) 

look at this stuff...isn't it neat?

First: an apology and a confession. I was not able to complete the second part of my project I planned to debut today. I am waiting for some material that has not yet arrived so please stay tuned. Here's a hint: abcd...

So, today, I'm sharing a simple, easy craft you can complete with your kiddo. My son is currently very into the Little Mermaid. He wants to live in the TV with her and dress up as a mermaid for Halloween. He also decided he wants a store that sells cars, trucks, roads, garage doors and mermaids. Just a few of his favorite things.

For this project you need:

1. washi tape. (if you are unsure just google it. It's really cute, you can buy it anywhere and it peels off of everything easily.)
2. paper
3. colored pencils
4. glue stick
5. other decorative crafty items of your choice. I used fake flowers.

washi tape. I'm cute!

Draw your basic mermaid shape. It doesn't have to look good because with any luck it will be covered up by your crafty kid. I'm pretty sure my mermaid had a uniboob and no hands. I used blue paper for the idea of water but any color will do. Go crazy. It doesn't have to be a mermaid. Draw whatever your child is obsessing about! The idea here was to stick on the washi tape like "scales" on the mermaids tail. You could use the same idea for shingles on a house, bricks in the road, whatever.

My son started adding tape all over to make eyes, a nose and mouth. I tore up some washi tape pieces for him and also let him tear his own pieces. Warning: tape pieces torn by preschoolers will be ridiculously long and stick to everything. Luckily washi tape peels right off!

He especially enjoyed using the glue stick to add flowers for hands and flowers in general. You might notice the abandoned half eaten graham cracker in the corner. Abandoned for this project. Because it was that awesome.

This was a great activity that had very little mess (if that kind of thing bothers you). The finished project is fun, imaginative and colorful.

see? mermaid drawing skills unnecessary. 

can't even find the time

Time to create is somewhat elusive. I thought becoming a stay at home mom would allow me that space (as did many others in my circle) but with the demands of a three year old, finding time to do anything extra can be difficult and trying. Did you know three year olds change their minds within seconds and take approximately five hours to get ready to leave the house but can also run away from you, naked, screaming and destroying the pile of clothes you just folded in about two seconds? True story. Especially when you have a wandering, head in the clouds type of child. It doesn't help that I am also a wandering, head in the clouds type of person.

I do feel as if I'm constantly creating...in my mind. Creating something visual takes time and space and it helps (for me) to have little to no interruption when I am really into that creative zone. But first it has to ease and flow out of my mind and out into the real world of paints, pens, inks and paper. I imagine most artists have journals or sketchbooks to help capture ideas. I have a sort of "life book". Lots of things go into this journal. My thoughts, doodles, poems, artistic endeavors, recipes, wish lists, dreams, goals etc. 

The most breathtaking feeling is when I find that time to turn something from the pages of my life book into reality. 

Yet, typically, I can't even find the time. Of course, the honesty in me must show its snarky little face. Time is hiding in riveting movies and tv. It's lurking behind book covers. It is a shadow at the park while I push my son on the swings. It's sucked up in the swirl of dog hair rushing into the vacuum. It's stuck in the couch cushion as I stare out the window for much too long. 

Sometimes time is very direct with me, staring right into my eyes, and I pick up the pen or brush and then...nothing. Something beautiful is hiding inside my mind and it does not always want to come out and play with time.

But then. Oh, then...bliss. Time and the constant creation in my mind bump into each other, share a shy smile and hold hands for a while. Those are the moments when you step back, look at your work and think "damn, did I do that?!"

I mentioned in my previous post that I broke up with painting. Well, we starting flirting again and we got together last night. It was fun. It's still kind of a casual thing but it piqued my interest. I have a project I've been thinking about and I'm ready to let my mind spill onto the canvas.

Here is phase one. Next week I'll share my new painting project.

the dilemma

When I was a little girl I always knew I wanted to be an artist when I grew up.  Back then, I didn't realize that was a fairly lofty dream. I also didn't realize I might not ever actually grow up. 

I'm still growing. Still dreaming.

Why is being an artist so difficult? Is it just difficult for me? I will say I had fair warning. My parents were not too excited about my majoring in art, especially fine arts. They were sort of okay with a concentration in graphic design. I desperately signed up for graphic design courses when I registered my freshman year of college and later secretly dropped those in favor of painting courses. 

I didn't even want to go to college. I have always sort of drifted along in my own world, scribbling weird poetry in my journal, writing short stories or drawing little people that developed from stories in my mind. I had no true aspirations other than to become this vague notion of an "artist." I was forced to apply for college and I'll be forever grateful to my parents for the not so gentle push as well as the ability to actually send me on to higher education. I blossomed a lot in college. I turned into a different sort of dreamer and my art grew beyond my imagined capabilities. I had some incredible instructors whose passion for art history and non objective art helped my realize I needed to narrow my focus. 

I was (constructively) criticized by several professors for not having direction with my art. For being all over the place with my paintings and my artist statement. Now, at nearly 35, I am still figuring out my focus. 

I feel naive at times for all the things I do not know or understand about art, about my supposed passion and my craft. Recently, I broke up with painting. We just had such a rough patch and I couldn't bear to look at all the memories we created together. I gave away many paintings, trashed some and others I painted over. It's very disheartening to be told you have talent but not understand where to direct it, how to make it work, how to make it marketable, how to make a living. How to grow up and become the artist I always wanted to be.

I wish there was more support for this abstract life of an artist. The questions that arise when you major in art include:

"Art. huh. What are you going to do with that?"

and

"How will you make money?"

The questions and ideas that fill your mind are even more specific and frightening. How can I create something new? Everyone else has already created something better. Art is just a hobby. I will never be unique enough. The final product looks nothing like it did in my mind. How do other artists make money? Why can't I? What if no one comes to my show? Why am I even bothering?

The insecurity piles in and it becomes a mind numbing fog. If this is my passion why is it surrounded by so much heartache, anxiety and frustration?

Fellow artist, creators and dreamers: how do you find your way through the fog?

on wednesdays I blog

I am lost in the abyss of motherhood. 

That sounds so awful, right? I could apologize for making the beauty of mothering children sound like an infection but I won't. It's the reality (sometimes) and there is beauty in the truth.

My husband is out of town for the week and I am left with my sweet bundle of three year old energy and an anxiety ridden dog who possibly needs more attention than my child.

The stay at home mom (SAHM) gig sounded pretty amazing back when I was still working, dragging my milk heavy breasts and spit up covered clothing to work and crying in the conference room while I pumped, imagining every breath, giggle and coo I was missing. I remember telling my best friend how I was so miserable and if only I could stay home with my baby, life would be glorious! She was already a seasoned mother of a toddler and she gently suggested the SAHM life might not be the glitter covered, sprinkled cupcake dream most people imagine. 

I nodded and ignored her, of course. I knew better, didn't I?

After my babies first year, my husband and I decided we could afford the transition to a one income family. I was overjoyed and a little annoyed because I heard the three little words that I probably said myself before having children. They felt different when someone else used them on me and my situation. They felt very, very different after being home with my son for two plus years.

"Must be nice." 

Well, yes, I guess it is nice. Or it was nice. But trust me, reality sets in super fast.

There is no escape.

I know, that sounds dismal and probably a little ridiculous. Perhaps it is when you compare my life to those who are struggling and suffering and barely making it through the day. In moments of extreme frustration I do reflect on how lucky I am to have the opportunity to stay home with my son. I know it's rare today.

It doesn't take away the fact that being a SAHM is hard. It's lonely. It's isolating. There are issues that no one knows about or understands. And there is another layer for me, personally. I am an artist. (snort) Well, I try to be. So I definitely heard a lot of this as I made the transition to SAHM:

"Oh, great! Now you can work on your art and your writing!"

That sentence alone makes my heart sink. The guilt sets in.

Even now, as I frantically type this and hope I don't sound like an absolute entitled "you know what" for even daring to feel anything other than grateful...my heart is down below my knees. I need to get this written because I promised myself after starting my blog again August 1st I would blog at least once a week. I already broke that promise. 

I have not fully worked on my art or my writing. Until now. On Wednesday's I will blog. I hope it will be about creating, writing, about fun artsy projects with my son. Maybe sometimes my blogs will be about fighting my way out of the abyss as I answer questions like "what's a face?" and clean pee off of every bathroom surface while tripping over my dog. 

On Wednesdays I blog. It's my new mantra. And now, it's time to play with my son.

It is pretty nice.