almost behind us

july brought:

+ camping out under the starry, sweltering sky at home and among the birdsongs elsewhere for miss C.

+ many listens to 24 popular show tunes courtesy of the drama class miss C is participating in. “Honey Bun” made the cut as her pick for the final performance.  it has been practiced so often around our home even sweet S has learned the tune and sings it baby-style.

+ three impromptu dance numbers performed by me and miss C.  mock broadway dancing made for wonderful laughter and connection.

+ fireworks flashing across the sky just beyond the back part of our country porch.  (i love fireworks.)  it was magical to see the surprise show of them as i stood beside my beloved r sweetapple and miss C.

+ an adventure together on a rarely cool saturday has inspired each of us since returning home.  it has encouraged me to consider more hours-long discovery outings. it is a gift to be able to watch each child process the experience.

+ r and i enjoyed a day together at home on our own.  i love the quiet, secret happy of date days.  he planted an oak tree in the morning.  we shared a terrible meal together at a local dive in the afternoon.

+ two goldfish selected by lovely L and miss C.  we took a break after the previous few had gone on to the fishy spirit side.  the glow and sound of the tank reminds me of lovely L’s newborn days.  we used to cuddle up and nurse by its’ light when she was still so tiny and working on getting used to being in the world.

+ sweet S’s first set of calloused feet.  i recognize this means i must finally accept her toddlerhood and my mothering heart must shift from swaddle to bravery mode.  she is ready.  i can pretend well that i am.

deep

to burst like him. that is what i craved. to burst up and out — flames of leather and ink. but i was tethered by delicate snake print and the pride of a stubborn pace. my feet set quietly into the sand and my heart absorbed the nuance of the dunes.

we thought we were abandoned. why does youth do that to our minds? we had to scramble. and then we slid ourselves with so much caution through a window into the rooms half shuffled with sand and papers. even then i wanted to run away from you. i wanted to escape on the thick air and hide alone to wonder what kind of daydreams people sustained themselves on here.

the photos didn’t develop in a linear fashion. each exposure bent on the other and i am left with a single image. i wish i could step back for a few moments to walk the lost frames and say a silent, prayerful goodbye like i always do when it’s time to pack up my tangled heart and leave somewhere.

and when i am gone, off to the spirit side, will the images of my subconscious come with me? will i get to see any of these sorrows that are my undercurrents again?

i secretly hope so.

overcast

the weather was stormy yesterday.  it was a rare treat during this dry summer.  the world beyond our windows was humid and hushed in the breaks between downpours.

i often create by the quick-n-dirty approach right now.  for me, this means using what is already here and skimming on being rudimentary in process.

a remnant gray skirt, embroidery hoops, permanent ink and stamps were my tools. my product is a simple scarf, printed intentionally rough and aged.

before slipping into sleep the night before last, what kept coming back to my mind was, “for never was a story of more woe/than this of juliet and her romeo.”  what a blissful set of lines.  shakespeare’s work is so brilliant.

maybe i will add some tiny beads to the edges.  but likely it will stay just as it is to be worn on days when i’d prefer not to blend into the background.

it’s so good when making works out.

m.

Presently

obsessing on: what is my purpose in this life? (take 3,451,817)

Analyzing the above question for three decades has led to one answer.  It is this: my answer was always meant to be multi-faceted.  i spent so many years earnestly trying to make my purpose fit into one word.  i kept believing that i could think myself into finding a singular objective.  i acknowledge this was partly an immaturity issue but it was a bad habit that has persisted until the present even though i know that there is no singular answer!

a cluttered and messed space makes my mind feel that way.  it begins a cycle of feeling like i am always too late to find my singular purpose and i’ll never get the chance to and worrying if i am not doing a great enough job helping my family develop their purpose(s) and that i am behind and that i should be more prayerful and more creative and finally sewing some pattern out of my books that i cut the material for a year ago or learning to paint with watercolors but i can’t because it’s 4pm and i still haven’t washed the dishes and i am letting myself down and i am trivial and that being a housewife is maddening and why can’t i even do a good job at it and being angry at myself for my mind/heart attention being stuck on house work or my loopy thinking rather than my raising lovely daughters work.

in truth, i would love to have a spotless home.  yet in my heart it doesn’t feel right at this point in my life because then i would have to spend all of my wonderful creative existence focused on that goal and teaching my girls that it should be their goal, as well. (you may disagree and i totally support that but this is my crazy brain and how it processes all of this.)  i don’t want that for me or for them.

tired of feeling overwhelmed again on the clean vs. create issue, one morning i decided to channel all of my objective thinking ability to figure it out.  after a bit of inspiration by imagining what my great-grandmothers would have suggested i do, a plan was born!  and i found my way to keep working away at the many purposes i have held special and felt compelled to do since my girlhood: being a storyteller, a writer, a model, a reader, a seamstress, a designer, a leader, a teacher and a compassionate listener.

my very loved “granny list”

(i know, she isn’t glamorous in any way.  in fact, she’s a bit funny since it took me five minutes to draw up.  i wanted something that looked as though it could have been found in a lovely elderly woman’s kitchen and had been stuck on their fridge for about twenty years.  at least it’s got some color and is recyclable, right?)

the granny list is gentle on me.  it keeps me on track just enough while allowing me to exercise my free spirit approach to existence. my granny list is a daily compass and once i get to my cleaning destination i can pick how little or much should be accomplished each day.  i have no need to feel pressured to take care of every mess elsewhere at once around the house until the proper day.  and if i screw up a week, it’s okay because i can just start over again on the next week.  i am so deeply grateful for my granny list.