The Felicity of Form

Riding the Wave

2010-08-02T15:21:00.000-07:00

It has been several weeks since I returned from my Key West adventure. That first week back was absolute bliss. I rode the wave of euphoria that I had found through my energy work on the island, which led to the fantastic painting, Divine Connections. The second week back, life returned with a vengeance, and it was difficult to stay grounded through the usual day-to-day chaos.

Fortunately, I have an amazing support network of family and friends. They are always willing to take time from their busy schedules for a dinner, a call or an IM session. It is easier to keep breathing while walking the tightrope of life knowing that you have a wonderful net of loving arms to catch you should you fall.

In addition to the tremendous friends I already have, I made new friends in Key West. The memories of meeting these folks and spending time with them on the island helped to buoy my spirits. I was even able to continue to hear the song of my muse through the din of daily life by thinking of my Key West friends.

The muse continues to sing the same song. It is of two necklaces that I have to make. Both necklaces feature a special item that I brought back from Key West. The first item is a ceramic key purchased at Honest Works and created by Adam and Kelly. My friend, Connie, and I had just finished a yoga class and were walking back to our hotel when we passed what appeared to be a bicycle shop. We looked at one another and said, "We need to go in there." The majority of the building is indeed a bicycle shop, but the door we walked through brought us into a quaint and colorful shop full of pottery.

Behind the counter stood the artist, Adam. We spent a half an hour or more talking to Adam, oohing and ahhing over the gorgeous mugs, plates, bowls and vases. In the time we were there, we learned that Adam and his wife Kelly both work the potter's wheel and create many of the pieces together. They also have a toddler and a new baby. I felt an instant connection to Adam and the shop. I loved the colors and textures of the pieces. The man himself radiated positive energy and when we left I looked at Connie and said, "You can see the whole world in that man's eyes."

I was able to visit with Adam and Kelly twice more. I even got to meet their sons. On my second visit I purchased two ceramic keys and a mug. I cannot explain how I came to deciding on these items from the many beautiful things in the shop except that they chose me. So, I've had tea from my Honest Works mug every day since being back and I finally took one of the keys today and created the necklace you see in these pictures. This key is the one that spoke to me. I'm calling it KEY West.

The second item is a crystal that was given to me by the captain of The Imp II, Victoria. Connie and I joined Captain Victoria on a Dancing Water Spirit dolphin excursion. It was during this time that we delved heavily into our energy work, building on the outstanding environment we were in and the magical spirit of the dolphins that continuously found us (really, we thought it would be the other way around).

Part of our work was to take two crystals and bury them in the sand of the beach where we took a little break. This was to purify the crystals. After a time, we dug our crystals from the sand and sat near the water to meditate over them. During our meditation we were to think of something we wanted the spirit of the dolphins to help us with. By meditating on this desire while holding the crystals we essentially programmed them to act like beacons to one another. Finally, we took our crystals and headed back to the open water. The dolphins found us right away. While allowing the sunlight to refract through the crystals, we gave one back to the ocean and the dolphins. The other we kept and were told to wear it close to our heart so the energy of the two crystals could work together to help us fulfill our desire.

Today, I discovered how I wanted to wear my crystal. I wire wrapped it in sterling silver and hung it from a simple black satin cord. It is adjustable so I can wear it close to my throat or close to my heart. I have kept this crystal in my art room since coming home. My wish was to get out of my own way and to remove my expectations for my art. I wanted to hear the muse and for her to sing loud enough that I could not ignore her. I think the crystal is doing its job. I am looking forward to wearing it.

Now, I am continuing to ride the wave of spirit and energy created in Key West with my mementos and my memories. I feel the earth beneath my feet and the breath in my lungs. I am grateful to Adam, Kelly and Victoria for their artistry, their generosity and for touching my life. I will never forget it.

Divine Connections

2010-07-18T06:51:00.000-07:00

Words are hard to come by for this blog. Usually, that it is not a problem for me. Right now though, I am feeling and talking does not seem to fit in anywhere. Still, I want to share my latest piece of art with you and words are needed to some degree.

I recently came back from a trip to Key West. I went with a special friend who "gets" the (sometimes) quirky spiritual side of me. It was amazing. I am not a beach person, not really an island person either, but Key West grabbed me the second my feet touched the sandy soil. Water like veined malachite, skies of azure and the sun spilling its golden rays everywhere -- I truly thought I had landed in paradise.

The physical beauty of the island is remarkable enough, but it was the people that sold me. I love people. I love to learn their names and I love to hear their stories. I find that most people want to tell their stories. They just need an opening and a good listener. The islanders of Key West are more willing than most to share their stories. It's why they come to the island, to belong to a community that allows them to be themselves completely, incorporating their stories into its own.

I would love to tell you about the amazing people I met, but that is not the purpose of this blog. Instead, I want to share with you the art inspired by these people. When I returned to Virginia, 1:30 a.m. and travel weary, I laid my head upon my pillow and the image of the Hebrew tetragram (Yod, Hey, Vav, Hey) floated behind my eyes. These four letters create the ancient Hebrew name for G-d, unpronounceable as the sounds have been lost to antiquity, silenced as the second Temple in Jerusalem was destroyed and the priesthood dissolved. Around the letters, colors took form, shapes began to weave themselves and I recognized the muse calling my name. I drifted off to sleep with the colors still swirling behind my eyes.

A couple of years ago I read a book titled The Sacred Art of Lovingkindness: Preparing to Practice. Rabbi Rami Shapiro describes speaking to a crowd of thousands that had gathered for a concert to help the victims of the December 2004 tsunami in Indonesia. He spoke the following:

"What does it mean to be the image of God? Being the image of God means that we are God manifest. Just as a wave is the ocean extended in time and space, so each one of us is God extended in time and space.

What does it mean to be the likeness of God? Being the likeness of God means that we have the potential to act in a godly manner. It means that we can, regardless of our ideology, theology, and politics, engage each moment and each other with lovingkindness.

The Hebrew Name of God, the four-letter Name Y-H-V-H, yod-hey-vav-hey, when written vertically takes on the shape of a human being. Each one of us is the Name of God incarnate."

When I read those words I had a revelation: The divine is you, the divine is me, the divine is everything we encounter and connects it all. The only divisions among us are the ones we put there ourselves. This is how I have tried to filter the world since reading those passages. I want to be an example of lovingkindness and I find that when I am practicing my example it is returned to me tenfold. The people of Key West reinforced that for me. My travel friend reinforced that for me. My family, my friends reinforce that for me. Thus, my art began to take form, centered around four simple Hebrew letters and infused with the colors of life, texture and vision.

I hope your life is full of lovingkindness inspired by the people you meet. Hold for yourself a sacred space, but do not forget to let the others in your life into that space for a time, too. Namaste.

Heart and Head, Not Heart vs. Head

2010-04-29T10:17:00.000-07:00

Does sentimentality breed ineffectual responses to life? Oscar Wilde wrote in a letter to a friend, "A sentimentalist is one who desires to have the luxury of an emotion without having to pay for it?" Okay, I can accept that line of thinking when it comes to literature or art. I love the feelings that are invoked when I am reading or creating art knowing that when I am finished I am still where I am, richer for the endeavor without ever having to struggle through it in my daily life.

I came across a quote by William B. Yeats that states, "Rhetoric is fooling others, sentimentality is fooling yourself." I note the vein of truth in this statement and it makes me less satisfied because I do not wish to be foolish or ignore reality. I also do not wish to fool others with meaningless words, verbiage spewed just to convince another that my point of view is the one best accepted. I recognize each person's experiences are unique, and I pride myself on acknowledging these unique experiences in others (whether they refer to emotions, politics, religion or other world views). I cannot say I'm infallible in my endeavor to respect other's individual perspectives, however, I always know that I give it my best efforts.

Continuing to dig further on this matter of sentimentality I looked to find what it mean to be "sentimental". I plugged the word into the American Heritage Dictionary online. The screen read:

Adj.- a. Characterized or swayed by sentiment. b. Affectedly or extravagantly emotional.

I didn't find this a satisfying definition and I realized I had to use the root word, sentiment, to find what I was looking for. I then turned to Mirriam Webster's online dictionary and found the following definitions:

Noun - 1a. An attitude, thought or judgement prompted by feeling: predilection. b. A specific view or notion: opinion.

2a. Emotion. b. refined feeling: delicate sensibility especially as an expressed work of art. c. Emotional idealism. d. A romantic or nostalgic feeling verging on sentimentality.

3a. An idea colored by emotion. b. The emotional significance of a passage or expression as distinguished from its verbal context.

The definitions offered by Mirriam Webster are much more satisfying to me as they clarify the term for me more thoroughly. In a culture where intellect and reasoning are rewarded, feelings are, more often than not, cast aside as weakening a person. Still, I reiterated my original question: Does sentimentality breed ineffectual responses to life?

I began to ponder this question this past weekend as I was spending my free mental moments kicking myself for a particularly emotional response to a disagreement I had with a teacher at my children's school. I was chaperoning a field trip and had to make an executive decision when the teachers were not available. One teacher, in front of the students and other chaperons, loudly criticized me and told me my action was unacceptable. When I tried to later take up the discussion, in a more private setting, she accused me of "inappropriate behavior" with the student. The behavior she was referring to was the hugs I return to the kids when they give them to me. I was shocked, hurt and immediately crushed. These are children I have see grow from infants to now being at the door of their teen years. I have loved them, listened to them, immersed myself in their struggles and offered comfort when they asked for and needed it. This teacher did not know much about me, but she seemed to know exactly what would hurt the most.

Her assessment of one of the most favored aspects of my life was devastating. Are we to live in a world void of touch? Am I to restrain my empathetic nature, nay, strangle it until it dies a death of excruciating suffocation? What of the children? Are they destined to grow up in a world where everyone is to be feared, no trust to be given, touch to be viewed only as danger and never as comfort?

Feelings coursed through me like lava and I began to sort through them carefully. I analyzed every aspect of my behavior, every thought, every motivation. I cried at the innocence lost, for indeed I could no longer convince myself that my community was somehow immune to the ugliness of the world surrounding it. In the wake of this accusation I am having to change. I will still care for these kids, nothing will stop that, but I will be aware now how another person can take something pure and twist it.

This reasoning and analyzing of my feelings left me with an important realization. Sentimentality has been the rule of my life. I feel before I think. I allow my actions to follow my emotions. Life in this fashion has proven to wound me frequently, but it has also led to exhilarating experiences beyond what mere human words can express.

As a young person I was unable to control my sentimentality. I carried my heart on my sleeve to bleed over everything. Some people were disgusted by this. Some people used this to their primary benefit, often leaving my heart scarred afterward. Some people saw it for what it was: unconditional support for my fellow humans and an insatiable need to have it returned.

Having my heart outside myself did not allow me to turn my sentiment inward. It, my heart, was unable to exist in the world and still nurture that which was within me. Thus, I spent 30-odd years looking for someone or someones to do for me what I could not do for myself. An unfair burden to ask of people. More grievous was how I was denying myself the very think I wanted and needed most.

With no small amount of effort, I finally removed my heart from my sleeve and, with great gentleness, nestled it within me where it belonged. I directed all the sentiment it held toward myself. I learned how when one nurtures, loves and cares for oneself the heart swells, creates space and allows one to take others into that soft place to heal.

Sentimentality does not make one ineffectual in life. Living with sentimentality alone or with reason alone does that. Just like a fire is too hot to touch without being burned and ice is too cold to hold for a length of time without also burning, sentimentality and reason must be measured together to achieve the perfect balance of warmth that will comfort all who experience it.

I need both to create my paradise. My scales tip constantly from one direction to the other, but balance is always my desired destination. So too in this scenario I will seek balance. I deserve that, the children deserve that and I will strive for nothing less.

The Wisdom of Doug

2009-11-11T10:23:00.000-08:00

Much of our lives are spent wondering about the whys and hows of the things that happen to us, around us, through us. We expend tremendous energy trying to fix things, anticipating the next moment or avoiding an experience. I am disgusted at how much of my time and energy are spent analyzing or planning and more so processing everything like it is a crisis.

I began a new journey five years ago when I realized that my life was controlling me and I was not controlling my life. I was bouncing from crisis to crisis, and when I say crisis I refer to the everyday things that happen naturally but appeared to me to be the end of the world. For instance, one of my children would spill their cereal all over the table and I would be frantic cleaning it up, feeling like a failure for not being able to keep my house cleaner, crying because I felt like a horrible mom for yelling at the child who simply had an accident and ultimately falling into a pattern of depression and self deprecation.

How to break this cycle though and gain some of my life back? Well, therapy was a start, but I have never been one to rely on others to do my work for me. I began to exercise more and I discovered yoga. I fell in love with the movements, the calmness of the instructor's voice and the meditative moments before and after class. I turned to reading everything I could about yoga, its origins, the philosophy behind it and that's when I found Buddhism. I became fascinated by the tenants of Buddhism, but I did not feel drawn to become Buddhist. Instead, I found ways to incorporate my Judaism with what I was learning of Buddhism. Sort of a JuBu kind of thing.

The foundation of Buddhism is that all sentient being desire pleasure and are adverse to pain. Sure, of course! However, it is by allowing ourselves to be controlled by our cravings for pleasure that we perpetuate a cycle of suffering. Our attachments to the things of the world that make us feel good, whether it's money, sex, people, objects, causes more suffering. I look at it this way, we are never satisfied when we get something because then we just want more. It's never enough. The things in our life are never enough and we ultimately turn it all inward placing the feelings of dissatisfaction with ourselves. We are not good enough, not smart enough, not good looking enough, not savvy enough because if we were we would have everything we wanted. Right?

There was my life in a nutshell. I placed the blame for everything in my life with myself. I simply was not good enough. It had to stop. The Buddhist have a wonderfully laid out philosophy for how to end suffering. It is multifaceted and rich with wisdom, but I found the most resonance with the concept of "The Middle Way," a path of moderation that directs us away from extreme self-indulgence and self-mortification (thank you Wikipedia for that succinct definition).

For me the Middle Way was to accept being "good enough." My children are clothed, fed, housed, educated and loved, therefore I am a good enough mother. I have a home, a car that runs, clothes, food, a loving husband, a creative outlet, friends, family - WOW, my life really is good enough. I try to live in the moment and to reflect on the reality of the situation: what is within my control, what is not in my control and therefore able to be let go?

I have to practice the Middle Way every day. Sometimes it is every hour, every minute, every second. I have to admit I am a much happier person now. I waste far less energy on the things that do not matter in life and I recover from the "rough spots" more quickly. It helps to have amazing people in my life who are willing to share their struggles and their wisdom with me and the world around them. That brings me to the title of this blog. My friend, Doug, posted the following as his status on Facebook one day. I wrote it down and posted it in my art studio on the wall I face while working. I read it every time I sit down and it reminds me I am not alone, that the path I am on is a noble one. Doug, if you are reading this, you rock out loud!

Today I am awake.
Today I am aware.
Today I am present.
Today I wield my sword well and cut cleanly.
Today I do not shrink from the fight against the easy, insidious forces of my own imagined mediocrity.
Today I love the world and myself enough to do this.

-Doug Powers (October 28, 2009)

To all those who struggle with suffering, be present in the moment, embrace yourself and remember that you are good enough!

The Temperature of Creativity

2009-10-23T16:52:00.001-07:00

Sometimes a good thing just falls in your lap and you know it immediately. Two weeks ago I got to catch up with a friend I hadn't seen in more than 20 years and low and behold a beautiful, multifaceted relationship was rekindled. Actually, it was more like a wildfire broke out.

Chellee and I knew one another in high school through a mutual friend. It is also through this friend that we recently discovered that we both have taken the artistic path. Chellee works with glass, designing and creating amazing glass pendants, beads, bowls and also making chain mail jewelry. Her business is called 1465 Degrees, which is the temperature she fires the glass she works with. I love the tag she has for her business, "The Temperature of Creativity." So clever, so true.

I had the opportunity to visit her studio. You could have knocked me over with a feather because as soon as I walked in I knew I was in heaven. So much color, sparkle and ideas flooded my mind.

We spent hours catching up and doing the whole "ooh-ahh" thing over each others work. It didn't take any time before we realized we had found a "soul sista" in one another. I was lucky enough to be able to pick out six pieces to take home and experiment with. However, before I even got home I had already sold half my stash with the promise to bead them into fabulous necklaces.

Chellee doesn't do the bead thing and I don't do the glass thing. A match made in heaven? I think so. I came back to my art room and began to work on the pieces I had sold. The ladies seem to love the pictures I sent them and I look forward to receiving their feedback when they receive their necklaces. I beaded the other three, adding two to my Etsy shop and one is on hold for another friend.

Chellee and I have talked about every other day since our initial visit. I have already put in another order for more pendants, beads and other goodies. We are putting our creative energies together and I just feel it from the bottom of my soul that this is a marvelous thing in the making. That feeling in and of itself is inspiring.

I hope everyone gets a chance to check out the pieces that have come of this new venture between friends. The Felicity of Form and 1465 Degrees - no doubt you all will be hearing those names in the future.

Misc. Poop

2009-10-20T17:41:00.000-07:00

Recently, I had the privilege to visit a unique store called Architectural Artifacts in Chicago. I went to look for "random stuff" for my altered art. I had no idea what to expect, so two of my friends and I jumped in the car ready for the adventure. Adventure we found.

Walking into the enormous warehouse/store/museum I suddenly felt like Alice falling down the rabbit hole. Enormous wooden furnishings towered over me, circus posters dangled from the ceiling and every nook, cranny and corner was filled with unbelievable treasure. Two enormous 19th century Burmese Buddha statues stood in one room not far from a 12 x 6 foot table six inches deep with photographs of trucks (really! someone apparently had a thing for trucks).

After a bit of searching, we found the room I had been looking for. The room wasn't large, however, all the available wall space was lined with antique cabinets full of rescued doorknobs, doorplates, hinges, knobs, handles and all manner of hardware. In the center of the room was my altered art playground: a six foot table piled high with more hardware. John, Mari and quickly went to work sorting, admiring and otherwise getting our hands very dirty. The only problem was no prices on anything.

John was kind enough to get the gentleman at the register to come and let us know how to price our finds. It was then that our adventure become ever so much more interesting. The gentleman, which we later learned was the owner - Stuart, picked up a handful of hardware, lifted it high and dropped it. He stated rather profoundly, "I hate this shit!"

Mari, John and I stood there with our mouths hanging wide for a moment until we all burst into peals of laughter. "I love this shit, can I have it?" was my reply. Stuart wondered out loud why I would want such stuff, so I began to explain my pursuit of all things random, recovered and old for my altered books and other art. Stuart was appropriately fascinated and invited me to fill a bag with whatever struck my fancy and then we would "negotiate."

I made quick work of filling my bag. Stuart came over a few moments later to give me an old engraving stamp that simply said, "Size 12, Combed Cotton, Short Sleeves." Hilarious that he would have picked that up off of a table with literally hundreds of engraving stamps, but I was honored that he wanted to contribute to my art.

A couple of hours and many belly laughs later, we stepped up for the negotiating phase of our adventure. Stuart was very generous and I was equally sassy in the process. I ended up with stuff I love at a price point I could live with and Stuart got rid of some of his "shit." Stuart had the last laugh though as he completed the receipt for my purchase with a merchandise descriptor of "Misc. Poop."

All I can say is one man's trash is another woman's treasure and I am rich!

Women Rock!

2009-09-22T18:24:00.000-07:00

Generally, the first things I do after I get my kids out the door for school is to fire-up my computer. First, I check my email. There's usually a couple of dozen messages, anything from scouting to PTA information to the latest sales at my favorite stores. Second, I log into my Etsy store to see if there are sales, what people are viewing in my shop and if there's anything I can't live without in the other shops. Third, I go right to Facebook. I admit to being addicted to Facebook. It has become my way to relax, connect with friends and loved ones and generally just mess around.

Today, I logon to Facebook to find another inspiring link from my friend, Marissa Levin. Marissa and I have known each other for at least eight years now. We met because our kids are the same age and we attend the same synagogue. When I first met her, Marissa intimidated the hell out of me. She's tall, beautiful and is the successful business owner of a technology company called Information Experts. She not only founded the company, but she speaks regularly at forums and conferences for leading women in business, she is featured regularly in newspapers and magazines and currently contributes as a writer for Examiner.com. Me, I am primarily a mother and housewife. I think you can see why I would initially be intimidated.

As fate would have it, Marissa and I were invited to join a Bunco group that included ladies from our synagogue. Through these monthly game nights I came to know Marissa as a person who is smart, sweet, considerate and completely unpretentious. For me, her pedestal couldn't get much higher. Bunco eventually fell by the wayside, but I still connected with Marissa at synagogue. The years have gone by and I have concluded that Marissa is one of the most genuine people I know. She is ever quick with hugs and words of encouragement. When I get on Facebook, her status is one of the first I look for because even when she's having a bad day she finds something better to aspire to.

Two weeks ago, I shared with Marissa my newest foray into business. I handed her my business card and she said to me, "You are an entrepreneur!" Whoa now! I'm just coming to terms with calling myself an artist, thus it is quite a leap for me to consider myself an entrepreneur. However, I could not help but feel warmed and encouraged by her exclamation.

Today, Marissa's status was an article she wrote for the Examiner on purging. Sounds like an odd topic for a Women's Entrepreneurship column, but read the article - it's worth it. My favorite paragraph states:

"Purging makes so much room for the future. Not only does it free up physical space; it frees up emotional and mental space too. Clutter and overcrowding is draining. It depletes you of valuable energy to focus on the future. After all, how can you possibly see the road ahead of you if your immediate line of sight is blocked? How can you possibly envision a fresh path if the old path overwhelms you? "

This is just what I needed to hear. I am working so hard to purge old emotions and frames of mind to accept that I am on a new path with my life. Success is not measured in dollars only. I want to be successful for me and my goal is to get my hobbies to pay for themselves. It's realistic, it's attainable and it is a worthwhile goal. The added bonus is that I make time for me. I have the ability to soar to new heights and unknown destinations on this amazing journey.

Thank you, Marissa, for inspiring women to believe in themselves. You rock, girlfriend!

When the Universe Speaks

2009-09-15T13:24:00.000-07:00

Since launching my store on Etsy I have been busy creating jewelry, art, scarves and whatever else pops into my head. I have also been busy handing out business cards and talking to whomever will listen to me about this new adventure. It has been exciting and scary at the same time. Exciting because I am getting to share something I love to do with the world. Scary because I put a bit of myself in each thing I do and what if it's shit?

Last week I handed my business card to a lady that I have casually known for years. She glanced at it and looked up surprised. "Oh, you're an artist?" she asked. I stuttered, tried to get my mouth around the word "Yes" and finally replied, "Something like that."

Now why was that so hard? I have been pondering this for days and I have not been able to fully articulate it to myself. Today, I met with my friend, J, and she was very curious about my inability to call myself and artist. She asked me if I thought there was only one definition or one kind of artist. "No, of course not," was my answer. She also asked me what it meant to me to be an artist. Here was my answer:

"Being an artist for me is taking whatever emotions, thoughts or activities are going on in my life and using them to create something unique to that moment. Art and creating are fulfilling actions for me. I love it when my hands are covered with ink, paint, glue and bits of "stuff" because it means I was productive, that I worked hard. I love my new callouses from wire wrapping because it means that I have accomplished something. I don't expect to get rich or become famous, although I'm don't think that's necessarily bad, I want to know that someone else is wearing or looking at an object I made and he/she are finding their own beauty in it. Bits of my soul are embedded in each piece and sharing it is the most blessed feeling of all. I am self taught, I work hard and when I look at my hands I know this. My fingernails aren't manicured, the cuticles are ragged and my palms rough. My hands are not those of a supermodel, they are the hands of an artist."

By saying all of that out loud I realized several things. The first is that I define the title "Artist" for myself. Second, my goals in doing this are clear to me: I want to create for me, as a way to process my life and I want to share that with the world in hopes of touching someone else in whatever way I can. Finally, I don't have to fit in any neat category. I am a wife, a mother, a daughter, a sister, a friend, a housekeeper, a taxi driver, a cook, a Scout leader, a volunteer, a caring citizen of the world, a Jew, a yogini, a part of the divine AND AN ARTIST. Most of all, I am simply me. And, damn it, that is good enough.

So tell me, how freakin' inspiring is that? I think I'll go make some art.

Not All That Glitters is Gold

2009-09-14T20:42:00.000-07:00

I learned last night that not all ideas are good. At least, not initially. I felt a surge of inspiration as I was sorting through some recyclables yesterday. Normally trash doesn't turn me on, but I was looking at all the soda cans and thinking about how I used to rip the pop tabs off of them when I was a teenager and wear them on a leather string necklace. Why? I have no idea, I can't remember the reasoning now, but I do remember enjoying it regardless.

I began pulling all the tabs off of every can I could find. I imagined them colored with alcohol inks and beaded, thus creating necklaces and earrings. I carefully cleaned the lot I found with hot water and bleach (I also found a stash leftover from when we were collecting them for a charity). I spent more time drying them and spreading them out to find just the right ones.

Then came the fun part of coloring them purple, blue, black. . .except it wasn't so fun. Instead, the ink kept flaking off and wouldn't saturate the little nooks and folds on the back of the tabs. My hands and fingers started taking on an alien-like quality with all the ink that accumulated under and on my fingernails. Damn, I should have worn gloves - too late!

I spent two hours working on getting the color even and vivid. Then, I made another mistake. I sprayed them with a clear sealer. The little boogers dried tacky and stuck to everything. More ink peeled off and I nearly threw the lot of them away. Still, I persevered. I ended up with one necklace and a pair of earrings. The earrings were for my oldest daughter (she is my guinea pig for new, funky jewelry).

I like the look, but I don't think the ink is going to last and that is problematic because I cannot sell the product in my Etsy store. Even at $10 or $15 a piece, no one wants to get a product that wears away within a few uses. My daughter did wear her earrings today and by the end of the day you could see scratches in the color from where the beaded headpin and earwire rubbed. Erg!! I am disappointed and frustrated.

The idea is a good one, but the technique sucks. My daughter loved the pieces and I'll probably let her get whatever use she can out of them. Disappointment blows. I know there's got to be a way to color the aluminum, I just don't know it. . .yet. I am in love with the idea and I am not ready to bury it. However, I cannot even bring myself to post pictures of these items, they are just not up to par.

Back to the drawing board.

Angels Among Us

2009-09-09T17:37:00.000-07:00

It has been my experience in life that true inspiration comes when I least expect it and in the most unusual circumstances. In my life I have sought to be inspired by many things: religion, art, material goods. . . and to some extent these things have provided their own kind of inspiration. None of it lasted long or fed my soul for any length of time. Much to my surprise, I have realized that what inspires me to the greatest extent are people who have come into my life.

A person may come into your life for a moment. Maybe it's a chance encounter while shopping or someone that you meet on vacation. That person is there and then, as quickly as they came, they are gone. I think of this as the kindness of a stranger. These short moments make us smile, realize that we are all human beings and assures as that the world isn't such a bad place after all.

I had such an experience while on vacation in Las Vegas with my husband. It was about two years ago and my hubby was attending a conference, so I was on my own during the days. The evenings we tried to make special, however, we had done the "Strip" scene before so we chose to stay in the suburbs and mix with the locals. One evening, we chose the Melting Pot for dinner. It's long been a favorite of ours for celebrating the special moments of our life. We were coming up on our anniversary and had every reason to celebrate. Our waiter came to take our order. Now, my friends will tell you that I have never met a waiter I didn't like. I learn their names, where they are from and where they plan on going. I like people and I like good service. I feel there is no harm combining the two. This experience was no different. I learned our waiter's name was Pablo, he was originally from Mexico City and he came to Las Vegas to pursue music.

You may be thinking, "So what?" Normally, you would be right, but throughout dinner Pablo shared with us how much he missed his home city. We learned his struggle to be able to make his music and follow his dream. He shared with me that his inspiration was a book titled, The Alchemist. I had never heard of this book, but the enthusiasm in Pablo's voice convinced me that it must be a good book to have inspired this young man to come so far.

By the time the meal was over I felt I had met a kindred spirit. Pablo hugged me as we left and said to me, "Be good to yourself." That hit me like a lightening bolt because I had been struggling with how to accept being "good enough," not always expecting perfection from myself and to take time for just me. I went out and immediately bought the book, which turned out to be as uplifting as the man who recommended it to me.

There are other people that come into our life for a season. Perhaps you make friends with a fellow parent during soccer season or work with someone for an extended time. This person is in your life for many months, maybe even a few years. He or she is sharing an experience with you that is bonds the two of you together for as long as that experience lasts.

I found that to be true with many of the friendships I formed when my first child was born. I joined a club for mothers called, "Moms helping Other Moms," or just "MOMs Club." This group was a lifeline for me. I loved being a new mother, but I often felt overwhelmed by the responsibilities that came with my new role and befuddled at what I was expected to do to raise this tiny little human of mine. These mothers shared their experiences without hesitation. Their successes and failures were laid out for me to see (and maybe learn from). I didn't have to reinvent the wheel every moment of the day when my child did something else I didn't understand and most importantly I realized I wasn't alone.

From my years in MOMs Club I still count two of the women I met as dear friends, yet there were dozens more that influenced and inspired me. After nearly a decade, I haven't forgotten the lessons I learned and the camaraderie that came from belonging to that group.

Finally, at certainly not least, are those people that come into our life for a lifetime. They are the people that you meet and make a lasting impression. These are the people that you carry with you in your heart and no matter how much time passes you find yourself thinking of them, laughing at a memory or savoring a special moment created.

I have several of these people that I hold in my heart and in my soul. My best friend from middle school that I still call on a regular basis, my dear girl in Indiana that I hadn't heard from in 20 years and recently reconnected with and even a guy I used to date in high school that I now call a friend and who never fails to make me laugh.

These are the "Angels Among Us." The inspiration they give us feeds our soul and makes us want to be a better person. These people give us the wings we need to soar. It is these precious people that inspired the artwork you see posted here. They remind me that I am blessed.

I posted this piece of art on my Etsy store (http://www.felicityofform.etsy.com/). It was hard to decide to list it, but I hope that someone else will find it inspiring and remember the angels in their life.

I especially love the quote by George Elliot:

"The golden moments in the stream of life rush past us and we see nothing
but sand; the angels come to visit us, and we only know them when they are
gone."

Don't wait until your angels are gone. Take a moment to reflect on those that inspire you. Take a moment to realize you are blessed. Take a moment to be thankful.

Happiness is a Warm. . . Soldering Gun?

2009-08-31T17:30:00.000-07:00

Wheeeeeeeeeeeee! That's my exclamation of excitement after having completed my first metal soldering class yesterday. I decided about three weeks ago that I wanted to take a few classes at some of the local bead shops to add to my repertoire of jewelry making skills. I took jewelry making in high school and worked a bit with soldering during that class (no, I won't tell you how long ago that was), so I was somewhat familiar with the ways soldering can be useful in jewelry making. I was in luck when I walked into my fav bead shop and a spot was open in Soldering 1.

My expectation was to learn how to make my own closed jumprings and maybe a funky length of chain for a bracelet or necklace. I was not disappointed in the least. The instructor, Nick, was amazing in his teaching and explanation of techniques. He was laidback and extremely open to the students modifying any techniques to achieve their own look for their working pieces.

I felt super macho using my handheld butane torch. That puppy gets up to 2500 degrees! While I rummaged through the tools, I felt like a child at Christmas with "visions of sugarplums dancing through my head." My husband has a woodworking shop in the garage. I have every intention of raiding his stash of dowels and chunks of leftover wood to use as mandrels for making my jumprings and pendants.

In the five hours we had, we learned the basics of soldering, the materials needed to get started and how to construct a bracelet length chain with a hook closure that we created ourselves. We were able to pickle and polish our creation, so when we left we had a ready to wear piece of jewelry.

I made a bracelet using square, rectangular and circle links. I had several leftover links and a bit of time, so I soldered the links together to make dangles for matching earrings. I have put pictures of my finished projects as they looked when I came home. I then took the pieces and embellished them with Swarovski crystal dangles. Pink Swarovskis in various shades -- yummy! Just look at how the silver and crystals shine. I got me some serious bling.

I am so happy with my experience that I can hardly wait to sign up for more classes. Now, if I could just find a wealthy mentor who wants to pay for all this I'd be set! LOL!

The Generosity of Friendship

2009-08-17T19:45:00.000-07:00

Throughout my life I have been fortunate to have good friends. When I was a small child, my friends were endless sources of entertainment. We would play games, pretend, chase one another and generally had few cares other than spending time together.

As I entered the middle school years, my family moved to a new town. I didn't know a soul. That first year I met a girl named Debbie who made life as the new kid bearable. She and I were inseparable during my sixth grade year. We shared secrets during sleepovers, obsessed over boys and laughed at the world. My seventh grade year I met John through a mutual friend. John was wacky, confident, uber smart and had the best sense of humor I had ever encountered. We cemented our friendship for life during our eigth grade year when, as editor of the school paper, I needed major help to layout and edit the articles that came in. Hours and hours were spent together after school drinking soda, working on the paper and laughing until Sprite came out my nose. Good times, good times.

Throughout my young adult years I did not experience as many close relationships. Living and going to college in Washington, D.C., you find that people in this area are extremely transient. It's hard to form attachments when you know that the people around you are short-timers. It was not until after my first child was born that I found the most amazing group of ladies through a mom's club, and I cherish them daily.

What amazes me today is how the Internet has changed the way we communicate and keep in touch with our friends. I joined Facebook at John's urging. It was fun, highly addictive and a nice way to burn through down time. In the last year, I have reconnected with people and friends I have known throughout my life via Facebook. Some of these people I haven't seen or heard from in twenty years. With the click of a mouse and a few keystrokes I can be talking to Mark in Indiana, Kathleen in New York or Steve in Oregon.

Regardless of how easy it is to rekindle and maintain these precious relationships, I never take for granted the gift and blessing that these people are in my life. Our time in this culture is so taxed. We are always multi-tasking, trying to fit in more, so when a person takes time out of their busy schedule to call, to meet for coffee or to simply type a few sentiments online I am overwhelmed by the generosity. This joy of friendship has sparked a flurry of creativity in my life. I cannot seem to put down the jewelry tools or the paintbrush and glue bottle for very long before I think of a project that is inspired by another special person in my life. So I share with you photos of these projects in hopes that it will inspire you to call up or email that special friend and share that precious gift of time.

Feeding My Soul

2009-08-10T08:30:00.000-07:00

Life gets away from me. It is a fact that I have finally come to some terms with. Time passes faster than I want it to and now more than a month since I've sat down to blog. It's lousy, but it is what it is.

Surprisingly, this past month I have been in a bit of an art frenzy. I have created more jewelry in a short few weeks than I have in a year. My mother has been the recipient of most of my pieces and I think she's pleased with her new bobbles. I hope to get some better pictures of the necklace I made. It is a lariet style with long irridescent, black beads and a magnetic clasp. It was a new adventure for me. More on that another time.

The past week I have been obsessed with a collage work that is larger than any piece I've attempted before. The piece was inspired by my best friend, John, and a dream I had. the piece nearly created itself which caused me to have to work fast to keep up with the process. I just added the last piece last night. John is out of town and I don't want to reveal the piece unitl he gets back and opens it (I have to mail it -- prayer to the mail fairy that it arrives intact). I'm sure there will be a full blog report in a week or so when John opens his mail and lets me know what he thinks.

All of this creating has left me with a calm I haven't had in ages. Actually, at moments I have been giddy with the joy of it. My dear friend, Doug, wrote to me recently and said something that has become a bit of a mantra to me:

"A full to-do list is nice, but you'll only have the energy for it if your soul is good and nourished."

Thank you, Doug. My soul is nourished and doing quite well. I have been feeding it through the art I love making, the music I love to listen to and the amazing friends I am blessed with that inspire me endlessly.

Mari, Mari

2009-07-01T19:04:00.000-07:00

I don't know how many months I've been a member of Facebook. It's not been a year yet and I only joined at the prodding of my dear friend, John. I've logged a great number of hours playing meaningless games and sharing my most mundane thoughts, and though it's brought quite a few laughs it has seemed a little more than an intense consumer of my spare time. That was until Mari sent me a friend request about a month ago.

I met Mari in high school. I can't say extactly when I met Mari or how. I don't remember if we met through mutual friends or if we became friends because we were in the same church youth group. Truthfully, it doesn't really matter how I came to know her, the fact remains that my life was forever changed when I did. Mari was funky, with wildly curly, blond hair and gorgeous eyes. Her laugh was incredibly contagious and she just made you want to hug her tight. I had never met anyone my age that was so vivacious. Mari was incredibly artistic. Everything she touched turned to magic. She was also deeply spiritual and I knew my soul had found its match when Mari came along.

I didn't have many close girlfriends in high school, so I clung two-fisted to my friendship with Mari. I wanted to emulate her like a little sister emulates the older. Mari held my hand through many difficult times and was always ready with advice far ahead of her years. Mari even drove me to my college interview with the representative of Georgetown!

Still, time marches on and nothing stays the same. As my senior year came our lives began to diverge in significant ways. I knew I was going off to college out East and Mari was engaged to be married. The circumstances of our different choices put us many, many miles apart physically and in our friendship as well. Somewhere during my freshman year at GW we simply lost touch. Seventeen years went by and I thought of Mari often with tremendous fondness. I even tried several times to find out where she was and how she might be doing. I never had any luck. Until the message from Facebook appeared in my email inbox I believed Mari was a fond part of my past.

My heart pounded and my skin broke out in gooseflesh as I opened the message. It was indeed my Mari. I wasted no time writing back, but my heart was overflowing with joy. Writing wasn't enough. I took a chance and called her. Hearing her voice brought tears to my eyes. Years and distance evaported, time stopped and the world ceased to exist. Mari is Mari, I am who I am and we are forever bound in our friendship.

People come and go from our lives. Through each of them we learn a bit more about ourselves. Sometimes we're lucky enough to meet people who are true angels on this earth; watching us, caring for us, inspiring us to be better people. Indeed, I was and am inspired by Mari and our friendship. It is a blessing I can count. I am grateful.

June 2009 marks a new chapter in my life. Reconnecting with Mari has been a kick start to opening my heart to reconnecting with others from my childhood. It's also helped me to be more open with myself, allowing some nearly forgotten (and wonderful) memories to resurface. Like the old adage says, "You can't know where you are going until you know where you have been." I'm learning all over again where I have been and it is paving the road to the places I am running to.

Thanks, Mari!

Mother Nature As Artist

2009-06-16T18:32:00.000-07:00

I love the seasons and how Mother Nature unfurls her pallete across the earth. My own yard exploded in color this season, especially with the enormous amount of rain we've received. I took some pictures of the flowers in bloom around my house. I am especially proud of how well my peonies have done with only one year of growth on them.

I also received a lovely, and very unexpected, gift of a miniture rose for Mother's Day. It was given to me by a very dear friend. I placed it on the shelf above my kitchen sink and it has gone gangbusters.

Mother Nature surprises me with her ingenuity everywhere I go. While camping with Gloria we saw the most splendid rhodedendron in white with complex red and pink markings. I've posted many images below. I hope you enjoy them.

Favorite Quote of the Week

2009-05-16T18:57:00.000-07:00

On a windy day in Virginia. . .

"Look, Mommy, the trees are dancing and singing!"

--Josie, age 4

Mountain High, Valley Low

2009-05-06T07:57:00.000-07:00

Note: I could not get an Internet connection on the mountain, so I wrote this out and am posting it now.

May 1st

I am writing this from a mountain top in southwestern Virginia. Well, the house I’m in is on the mountain, I’m not so technology addicted as to drag my laptop on a mountain climb. No, instead I am in a comfy vacation rental at Wintergreen Resort and lounging with five of my best girls and thinking I’m one hell of a lucky person.

This is my first all girl weekend in three years. I was nervous about coming. Sometimes I think after 12 years of being a stay-at-home mom of four I have forgotten how to be social without my children around. Generally, when I’m with any of my adult friends, the conversation begins with the latest things the kids are up to, the middle of the conversation is about the kids and the end of the conversation comes to an abrupt halt because the kids are interrupting.

It is really hard to get into the relaxation mode. When we arrived I was wired beyond belief. It took a long walk, some Depeche Mode, pizza, thirty minutes in the hot tub in the moonlight and a long shower before the shoulders stopped hunching and my mind said, “Hey, you have nothing you have to do and three more days of it!”

Tomorrow are massages, movies, building a fire in the fireplace, more hot tub time and even more time with some of the best women on the planet. Ah, life is good!

May 2nd

I slept soooo good last night! I actually dreamt that I had to wake up and start packing to go home, but when I opened my eyes I realized that this is only day two! Yeah! I also have an awesome roommate, Mitra. I think she and I were roommates in a former life. It's so easy being with her. As we got ready for bed, Mitra layed down to read and I got out my yoga mat. The stretching was delicious! It was a wonderful way to end the day. I crawled under the sheets properly exhausted, wonderfully calm and with a smile on my face.

This morning found us getting ready for our afternoon of pampering. The spa was beautiful. The waiting room had a corner with glass windows floor to ceiling and the mountain view filled that glass with lush, green majesty. I had tears in my eyes. I wasn't just on the mountain physically, my soul was soaring on that mountain as well. Here, heaven has touched down to meet the earth.
I was called first for my massage, starting with a foot bath, moving to aromatic oils and then the most blissful 80 minutes of my life in recent memory. It was only improved by the knowledge that all my dear friends were enjoying their chosen pleasures as well. Mitra and I followed the massages with time in the steam room and then all the ladies changed into their suits to spend time in the hot tub, again overlooking the inspiring mountain scenery.

When we got back to our house the ladies requested a yoga lesson. I was flattered, I was surprised, I was honored. It was so much fun to teach them some of the things I have learned, plus I was able to fit in another yoga workout! What Jenny, Mitra, Elena, Lynn, Kate and Ellen don't realize is that 20 minute yoga session has infused me with a renewed love for my yoga. What was becoming a burden has suddenly become fascinating again. I was reminded of how I felt when I first started doing yoga and I needed to remember that. This weekend has been so powerful for me so far. I can't wait to see what the evening holds.

May 3rd

It was a lazy morning for us today. The mountain is sitting in the clouds and the rain is pouring. Not an inspiring scenario for wanting to get up and move around. Still, I found the motivation this morning to go work out and I convinced my friend, Elena, to go with me. Elena has been through hell this past year and I have often felt like I have failed her as a friend because I have struggled with my depression and allowed myself to isolate and insulate myself from those closest to me. Despite all that, Elena has continued to reach out, even through her own pain and suffering. This chance to spend time one-on-one with her was priceless. I worked out harder and with more enthusiasm just having her by my side. Now, I do not talk while working out. I plug into my music and let it go. Regardless, I could feel Elena's presence infusing me with additional power while we worked out side-by-side.

Afterwards, we were able to talk, share and connect. When we went back to the house the group was itching to get out and see some things. Despite the intense fog, we made our way down the mountain and into Charlotteville to the campus of the University of Virginia. Wow, that campus is gorgeous! It brought back memories of college and how different it was being on the urban campus of George Washington University compared to the uber green trees and white columns with black shutters on the brick buildings that make up UVA. It was fascinating to explore the differences and still see the similarities - young people sitting on benches reading, back packed scholars, full coffee houses and school colors posted everywhere.

Thomas Jefferson has always been a favorite historical figure for me. My husband proposed to me on the steps of the Jefferson Memorial and even my son Henry's middle name is Jefferson. It was just another amazing memory to add to this weekend to be walking on the campus of the university that Jefferson designed.

We hoped to walk around the shops in the historic downtown, but it was Sunday and most of the shops were already closed. We ended up in a lovely, funky little diner for dinner. Awesome food and awesome people. No better combination! We drove back to Wintergreen, with my knuckles white on the wheel as I wended my way back up the mountain through the fog.

When we arrived back to the house I just wanted to jump into my comfy p.j.'s. My hands were a bit shaky as I took my earrings out and, with my usual flair for clutziness, one of my earrings flew out of my hand and went straight down the sink's drain. I would have laughed if I hadn't been so mad. The earring was part of a necklace set that I had made for my daughter, Gloria, and I had snagged it to wear for the weekend.

Once again I was astounded by the hidden talents of my friends. After lamenting the loss of the earring, Lynn sprang into action by going upstairs, reaching under the sink, disconnectingd the plug and with the aid of a flashlight and tweezers she literally went fishing for the earring. The jewelry was long gone, but her tenacity and cleverness made me laugh. I could no longer worry about the loss, but instead I could only marvel at her abilities and how quickly she came to the aid of a friend.

A beer and a good movie later, I felt great. We all trooped off to our respective rooms, but then came the realization that the weekend was over. I had a hard time getting to sleep and after two in the morning I finally drifted off.

May 4th

I'm sad, terribly sad. I'm tired, too. Insomnia sucks! We're getting ready to get on the road. Back to reality. Even though I am feeling blue, I am counting my blessings. I have the friendships of these remarkable women, I had the opportunity to go on this trip because of the unfailing love and support of my husband and I get to go home to him and the four most outstanding children a mother could have. I have a blessed life. I am thankful and I am honored to have it.

You Opened My Eyes to a World That I Could Believe

2009-04-22T08:06:00.000-07:00

Huzzah! Depeche Mode released their latest album yesterday, Sounds of the Universe, and what a gratifying album it is. First, let me tell you that I was introduced to Depeche Mode in about 1987, my freshman year in high school. It was the year they released Music for the Masses. At that point, DM had already released five albums, but they were new to me and I began devouring their music. My best friend, John, and I used to walk the hallways of our high school screaming/singing "Never Let Me Down." I was rather obsessed from that point forward. Depeche Mode got me through all of my teen angst years and my early adulthood.

Second, I should say that I do some of my best creating and artwork while listening to Depeche Mode. In the last few years I have never tired of listening to Ultra and Exciter. These two albums are not their most critically acclaimed, but for me they are essential foder for creative moments.

Third, I must confess that DM's music is my antidote for depression. I already mentioned their aide in helping me through the teenage years, but after my kids were born and I was diagnosed with major depressive disorder I turned to Depeche Mode in my darkest hours. When I listen to them I forget to realize that I'm 36 years old, that over 20 years have passed since I began listening to this band and I feel vital.

I am not a great reviewer of music, for good music reviews you would have to look at my friend, John's, blog (http://www.coachdub.blogspot.com/). However, I am entirely impressed with my initial listening of this latest effort by Depeche. Immediately I thought I heard hints of Black Celebration, especially the songs "Black Celebration" and "Fly on the Windscreen." There is less guitar on this album and much more electronic beats. Many of the songs' intros are longer, reminiscent of many of their early albums like Speak and Spell. With all the throw back feel to the early Depeche Mode days there is still a very new and vibrant feel to Sounds of the Universe.

Right now my only complaint is track 12 titled "Jezebel." What has happened to Martin Gore? Where are the powerful Gore songs we used to know? The music is dreary, the lyrics pathetic and Gore just isn't convincing in this song. I truly miss the old Martin Gore that we heard on songs like "A Question of Lust," "Sometimes," "Somebody," and "Home." Dear Martin, dig deeper!

Ah, well, no one's perfect. This album is yummy nevertheless. I hope that Depeche Mode keeps rocking for many years to come. I'll leave you with their video for the song "Wrong." The music and lyrics are highly original and addicting. The video is a bit disturbing - don't say I didn't warn ya.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5bsXOcK9_Cw

Leave Out All the Rest

2009-04-18T17:42:00.000-07:00

There is no poetry in death. I know many artists have attempted to represent death through various mediums and writings, some are even fixated on the macabre. After all, don't we all have the image of the "Grim Reaper" etched in our memory banks? Nevertheless, death is the opposite of create. To create is to bring into being, often referring to life. Death is defined as a permanent ending to life.

Speculation on what we feel as we die, what we think in our dying moment or what afterlife may or may not be waiting for us is purely created by the living. In as much as we can, mankind has offered up thousands of thoughts and images on what humans may experience after death. Many of them are beautiful, talking of heaven and streets of gold, attempting to find ways in which to comfort ourselves that death is not the permanent ending it appears to be.

I do not know what I imagine death to be like, nor do I have an image of an afterlife. Oh, I used to imagine as a child a cloudy paradise full of light, laughter and love. These images where strengthened by the Christian upbringing of my childhood. As an adult, these images have faded. I cannot pinpoint the exact time when the fluffy images dissipated. All I know is that I find no creativity within me when I think of death and afterlife. What I see and feel is always connected to those that are alive and left behind. Believe me, I can picture a death scene in my head, embellished with movie-like special effects and music, however, I have discovered that I am never really seeing these images through the mind of the one dying (or dead) rather I am seeing the surrounding scene through whatever other characters are present.

The creativity that comes from me nearly always comes from the intense emotions I have when going through life. Deep sadness, intense happiness, extreme anger. . . these fuel me with words for my poetry or images for my art. I am addicted to the feelings of life. Sometimes the addiction is too powerful and I have to withdraw into myself for a time. In the end though, I've learned that I always get to the point where I just have to go through the feelings and quit trying to go around them.

This line of thought has been influenced by the death of my step-mother, Sandra. She passed away a week ago tomorrow. It is no secret that for most of the 22 years of knowing her I struggled to like my step-mother. She was not mean or evil, like so many images created in our society. It was so much more complicated than that and yet it can be simplified to one thought that I would say is the foundation of my struggle -- she took a place in my father's life that I could not be a part of.

Regardless, Sandra was wonderful to my children. We did not see her often as she and my father retired to Florida many years ago. Nevertheless, she always loved my children and gave them her complete, undivided attention when they were with her. I will always admire that about her.

I will finish with the following lyrics from a Linkin Park song titled, "Leave Out All The Rest:"

When my time comes,
Forget the wrongs that I've done,
Help me leave behind some reasons to be missed.

Don't resent me,
And when you're feeling empty,
Keep me in your memories,
Leave out all the rest.

Pint Sized Inspirations

2009-03-10T07:26:00.001-07:00

My greatest creations are forever on-going, needing slight tweeks and subtle additions now and again. Furthermore, I can only claim to have put in half of what was needed to create them. I am referring to my four children. Gloria, Nathan, Henry and Josephine - my greatest treasures, my most ardent teachers, my hearts living outside of my body and pieces of my soul exposed for the world to see.

This past week my husband and I threw financial responsibility to the side for a short time and decided to book a week-long trip to Disney World. The last time we had a family vacation with just ourselves and the kids was seven years ago when I was preganant with our third child. Our youngest is four and she is obsessed with all things princess and fairy. Our seven-year-old still has that slight gullibility that allows him to believe that a magician can really make coins appear from his ear. Our nine-year-old still kisses his mom in public and tells his dad he loves him everyday and the eleven-year-old is still willing to indulge her parents' and siblings' antics for the time being. All these stages and moments are so fleeting as the days pass into weeks, the weeks into months and the years a blur. Carpe diem and all that. It is time to capture the moment and enjoy our family for this time.

When we did the Disney World trip seven years ago I was an avid scrapbooker. I created a small 5x7 book for Gloria to gather autographs and then put her photos and momentos in when we got back to Virginia. She has shared that book over and over with her classmates, friends and family. Josephine discovered it about a month ago and has carried it all over the house since then. This was the true inspiration for the trip and of course now all four children want their own Disney Memory Books.

Friday we visited Mrs. Dickinson, my favorite Creative Memories Consultant, to pick out our scrapbooks. Saturday and Sunday we spent every spare moment pre-docorating pages to prepare them for autographs, photos and various momentos. My pint sized Picassos worked tirelessly on picking out stickers, paper, ink and laying them carefully on their pages. I was overwhelmed with love while watching their joy, the uninhibited way they put colors and styles together. Gloria even tried her hand at lettering which then inspired her youngest brother, Henry, to pick up a pencil and give it a shot as well. Their fancy lettering is marvelously creative and each child's book is a perfect snapshot of where that child is - emotionally, developmentally, stylistically. Truely these books are capturing so much more than character signatures and photographs. They are capturing the spirit of this moment as a family.

I can only hope that the actual trip is as wonderful as these last few days have been. If not, I will already be full with this past weekend's creative intensity. Nothing can change that!

When I Work

2009-03-03T19:19:00.000-08:00

"When I work, I work very fast, but preparing to work can take any length of time."

--Cy Twombly

I found this quote online when I was trying to jumpstart my creative juices the other day. I thought, "Who is this Cy Twombly and how did he get inside my head." I didn't feel I could use his quote without knowing a bit about his work, so like all good young Americans I Googled him (okay, I'm not so young, whatever!).

Cy Twombly is classified as an "American Abstract Expressionist Painter." Not being a trained artist I thought, "What the hell is that." Looking at his works from various websites I remembered seeing Twombly's art hanging in the Nationl Gallery of Art a few years ago. I also remembered thinking that my two year old could have produced much the same results with a box of crayons on the white basement walls in our house. Just goes to show that art is subjective. Seriously, in this instance one man's art is a mother's frustrating morning of Magic Erasers and buckets of water.

I am in a creative slump right now. I usually don't stress about it (much). I know that the Muse comes and she goes. For reasons I can't explain, knowing this is not helping me to cope this time. I want to create. I want to spend every waking moment at my art table with the music blaring and my hands covered in all manner of medium. However, I sit, I stare, I stand, I fiddle, yet nothing comes of it.

One could hypothesize any number of reasons. It's been an exceptionally hectic week with the kids' activities. I've been sick. The kids have been sick. Extended family issues have been disturbing me this past week. In the end it's just not there. The spark that starts the fire is not available right now. This brings me to another quote I found:

"I dream a lot. I do more painting when I'm not painting. It's in the subconscious." -- Andrew Wyeth

Wyeth was a realist painter, but that is not what drew me to this qoute. It's because, once again, I wonder how this human got inside my brain and pulled out my thoughts. When I am creating something, anything, I dream vividly of the colors and the textures. I find in the last few minutes before sleep overcomes me that images flash behind my lids with such richness that they often permeate the dreams I have throughout the night. My frustrations as an artist often come from not being able to reproduce in physical form what I see so clearly in my mind's eye. Art is indeed largely subconscious for me, but my subconcious is apparently telling me to take a break.

I have to have faith that the juices with begin to flow once more. I just hope it's sooner rather than later. My palms itch and I desperately want to scratch 'em.

Purple Perfection

2009-02-20T18:33:00.000-08:00

It's February and my children's elementary school had it's annual Bingo event tonight. I was asked again this year if I could donate an item to be raffled off. Of course, I chose to make something and, as usual, I didn't start working on it until this afternoon.

I don't normally like to work under time contraints, but this afternoon inspiration struck rather quickly. The source of the initial burst of creativity was a handful of pink and silver lentil beads. I love the shape of these beads and how they lend themselves to dangling delicately from bits of chain. Unfortunately, I realized that I was out of the small jump rings needed to attach the beads to the silver chain I cut for the dangles of a pair of earrings.

I have often found that "where there is a will, there is a way," and so I began tearing up my beading supply boxes to find some sterling silver wire to make my own jump rings. With a bit of wire, a tiny dowel rod and a pair of wire cutters I found success. I took it as a sign that I was on the right track.

To compliment the silver and pink lentil beads I chose purple and lavendar flourite, amethyst Swarovski crystals and light amethyst Swarovski crystals. All of these I arranged on headpins and eyepins to dangle from two cuts of silver chain. I attached the lengths of chain to ear wires that have wire hearts formed on the front.

I decided that a bracelet would be the perfect compliment to the earrings. I used the same materials, but added flat, oval amethyst and quartz stones. I finished it off with a teardrop shaped Bali silver toggle and a beautiful bracelet was made.

I was excited to place my donation on the table with the other raffle items. It makes me feel good and proud that I am able to give something so personal and one-of-a-kind that will not only help raise funds for my kids' school, but hopefully bring joy to another person.

Indeed, a young high school girl won the raffle for the bracelet and she I could tell she was excited. Her mom let me know how much she loved the jewelry. I got to leave the event having had a wonderful night out with my family and a good deed rewarded.

Bijouterie for Knitters

2009-02-18T07:16:00.000-08:00

As anyone can tell from my blog description I like to make things. I have been creating jewelry for myself and my loved ones for about five years now. Beads are one of my many weaknesses and I have thousands of them arranged in bead boxes stacked four feet tall. I haven't done as much beading in the last year as I have in the past, so I was reluctant to dip into those boxes again when my sister-in-law, Sarah, called me a few months ago with a request.

Sarah is an avid knitter. I myself don't knit, I crochet, so when she began to describe the row counter she wanted me to make I was completely lost. Ten rings, beads between the rings, another series of beads with a moveable marker of seed beads. . . I was flattered that she thought my jewelry skills would allow me to make something so important for her, but I just couldn't imagine it in my head. After a few hours on the phone, surfing the web for similar items with her, I decided that this was a project I had to tackle.

Sarah came to visit this past weekend. I let her go through my bead boxes and pick out the ones she liked. Since our phone conversation I had been keeping my eye open at the craft stores for unique findings and jump rings and after she selected a few styles of beads she liked I went to work.

It took about three hours to make two of the row counters with coordinating stitch markers. I made one counter with 6 mm rings for her small needles and another with large 12 mm rings for the bigger needles she might use. She was thrilled! I thought they turned out well if I say so myself.

Of course, no weekend together would be complete without a trip to the yarn store. Lucky for us a new shop opened about six months ago just ten minutes from my house. We headed out on Sunday for a girls morning of coffee and yarn shopping. Sarah brought the counters and markers with her to show off.

It happened that morning that one of the shop owners was working, and as Sarah showed off her new baubles the owner asked me for my business card. Being a bit dense on occassion I didn't immediately grasp the meaning of her request. She explained that she would love to buy some of the counters to carry in her store. I laughed until I realized she was serious.

Now what have I gotten myself into! Jewelry for knitters, who knew? I'm considering the prospect of making a dozen or so to see how they go over at the store. Of course, it'll have to be in the spare three minutes I have a day:-) It just goes to show that the small things one may do out of love can lead to possibilities one never dreamed of.