merry christmas

a prayer that your Christmas be filled with peace, love, joy and happiness

I'll see you back here in 2011!

beauty berries, spotted on a walk

my new favorite word

self-possessed, adj.  showing control of one's feelings, behavior, etc; composed; poised.

chalkboard paint

Finally! Chalkboard paint in beautiful colors. I discovered this web site and have been quietly painting furniture and walls in my imagination. Now you can too. I love deep ocean and oil spill. (Though, in real life, I like to keep those two things separate!)

Which color is your favorite?

frank lloyd is haunting me

Last year I read two novels about FLW, “Loving Frank” by Nancy Horan and “The Women” by T.C. Boyle.  (The former was my favorite, by far.) And you know these things go, once you put your awareness on something, it seems to be everywhere. So here’s the web that FLW is weaving around me. Are you ready?

Shortly after I put those two books down the local arts community in Tucson hosted a studio open house. I found the most amazing art, my favorite being this. It made my stomach flip. I went back multiple times to the artist’s studio and home. Ultimately, I bought a piece.

The artist’s wife gave my family a tour of his studio and home. And the home was lovely, the most perfect house I have ever been in. No grand entrances, no granite countertops, no artificial trappings of what these modern times call “success.” What was evident was a safe, welcoming, inviting floor plan and the type of décor that suggests a life well lived: art, textiles, photographs. Things were functional and beautiful, nothing obnoxious or ostentatious. Everything was honest.

So how does this connect to FLW? One of his apprentices was the architect. (I’m not sure which one. I must find this out.) And once the artist’s gracious wife told me this, and I stood in that powerful house, I understood how relevant and radical FLW’s work is still today.

Fast forward a few months and I’m taking a watercolor class and decide to research my favorite watercolor artist, Carl Larsson. I picked up “Carl and Karin Larsson: creators of the Swedish Style” by Snodin and Hidemark at the library. It’s the kind of book that reveals itself over time. I could imagine discovering something each time I read it, never really understanding all of its implications. The Larssons were about a lot of things, the relevant one here is that they believed that home and family life should be beautiful.

The book mentions Ellen Key, a Swedish feminist writer who wrote on ethics, education and family life – just like the Larssons – and many other fields. It is this similar interest of the importance of family life, as well as their shared nationality, and the simple fact that they lived during the same times. I’m not sure if they ever met or collaborated though it’s interesting to see how closely connected many important people are. (By important I am referring to those people who think and contribute to the advancement of the world. This is in direct opposition to what our society deems important now: reality TV show stars, the latest antics of celebrities and buying, buying, buying.)

The FLW connection? Several of Key’s writings were translated into English by FLW’s mistress Mamah Borthwick.

The next week I’m at the library and I pick up a book, “The Red Rose Crew: A True Story of Women, Winning and the Water” by Daniel J. Boyne

because though I had high hopes of rowing when I moved out here, it seems that I should have moved to Alexandria, VA – an hour north – if I wanted to give it a go. So it seems that this book will have to satisfy my desire to row. (I did not seek out this book; it was just in a display of books about boats. I casually picked it up.) I begin reading the book and first learn about Carie Graves, who eventually becomes the lead rower of the first international women’s crew team.

The FLW connection? Graves was raised in Spring Green, Wisconsin which also happens to be FLW’s home base. Graves’ childhood was filled with a conflicting mish-mash of reserved, conservative farmers and the bohemian, creative, free-wheeling element that FLW brought to that part of the world.

Do you believe me yet that FLW is haunting me?

Finally, driving to my book binding class I pass a sign for the Pope-Leighey House. I discover that this house was designed by FLW and is a “modestly-scaled family dwelling that was (relatively) affordable, designed for family life, and responded to the surrounding environment.”

Of course, I need to visit it and soon. Not just because I’m here but because I am curious how similar it is to the house in Tucson that is a “modestly-scaled family dwelling” that was designed by one of his many apprentices.

Also, I really don’t think FLW will leave me alone until I do.

gollie, that was good

Inspired. Uncategorizable. Different. Welcome.

Bink & Gollie by Kate DiCamillo and Alison McGhee

language arts

This excerpt is from an interview with J. Patrick Lewis:
(the entire interview is here.)

If you were in charge of language arts, particularly poetry, instruction in the elementary grades, what changes would you make, if any, to the way language arts and poetry are taught in schools today?

Pat: At the risk of sounding imperious, I would…

• Ban all “poetry units.” Poetry should be a daily event in every class, not just in Language Arts.
• Encourage poetry cafes where students, teachers, custodians, clerical staff, even parents are invited to share their work.
• Work closely with school librarians to figure out ways of making the library as much of a magnet as the playground.
• Encourage students to write every day.
• Emphasize the supreme importance of strong action verbs, personified verbs.
• Emphasize the unimportance of adjectives and adverbs.
• Share poetry books of all schools, not just the ones you, the teacher, favors.
• Introduce a daily “Metaphor Minute,” wherein students are given a single word and asked to define it metaphorically.
• Applaud students’ failures, embrace them—failure is the only road to success.

you're the boss

Remember when I linked to this list of Keri Smith’s rules to be an amazing [fill in the blank]?  An inspiring list, right?

Well, in all my vanity, I’ve got something to add to it. Just tack it on the bottom: #15. “You’re the Boss.”

When I was largely pregnant, I took a writing class with the amazing Marge Pellegrino. She’d give us an in-class writing assignment and we’d have 20 minutes to complete it. It never failed that before we could even start writing, somebody would ask, “Is it OK if I…?” And Marge would say, “You’re the boss.” And then someone else would chime in, “But what about…”” And Marge would say “You’re the boss.”

Hearing those words repeated, it didn’t take long for me to find a new feeling of ownership with my words (and my life). That doesn’t mean that I don’t look to others for authority to apply in my life. It just means I do it a bit less than I used to.

Recently, I’ve seen how harmful this feeling of not having authority can be to creativity. In my watercolor class many students are interested in having specific rules to follow. I understand this, especially when it comes to learning a new skill. However, this need to be coddled can be harmful when it comes to that really sacred time when we begin something new – whatever it may be.

That first week as I sat painting at my kitchen table I’d think about what a disaster of a painter I am and I’d feel so unsure about what I was doing. But, I wasn’t afraid: of messing up, of making a mistake, of doing something wrong. I knew there was no way I could fail if I just kept painting. The only failure on my part would be to stop painting.

There was a distinct moment when I thought, “Am I following my instructor’s guidelines?” And in the next instant I realized that I am holding the paintbrush, I am making the choices, I am the boss.

At our next class session, it was clear that some students wanted the teacher to be present while they were painting and lean over their shoulder and tell them yes, that’s allowed. No, that’s not allowed! And the problem with that is then the painting isn’t yours. My instructor may as well just paint it. You should just put down your paintbrush (or pen or sewing machine…)  

I must be my own authority. You must be your own authority. It is the only way a person can ever do anything original or creative. Dive into the depths of your soul and make something out of it.

And if you are impatient and don’t want to make mistakes, you may as well not even paint or write or sew or really live. Because we all make mistakes. That is how we grow and learn and become more compassionate and loving. So, I say, get started. Make as many mistakes as possible as soon as possible because time is flying. And don’t you want to become real? Become authentic? After all, you are the boss.

a circle of quiet

This book changed my life.

Maybe it will change yours, too.

5 people I'd like to meet

1. Madeleine L'Engle
2. Mary Oliver
3. Natalie Merchant
4. Melissa Sweet
5. Mark Rothko

a permanent case of whiplash

Wave something in front of my nose and I’m ready to plunge down a rabbit hole in an attempt to figure it out.

Let me give you a simple, recent example from my life: I’m interested in bookbinding, so I sign up for a case binding class. The teacher at this class mentions that she will be teaching a coptic binding class in the New Year. I find out where and discover the Smithsonian Resident Associate Program: a dangerous, dangerous place for a girl like me. (A girl with a serious case of sign-me-up-for-that-class-itis.) Consequently, I sign up for a watercolor class. A couple of the other students at the case binding class mention that they repair torn, beat up books for their local libraries. My mind instantly starts thinking about researching book conservation classes (why limit myself to just case and coptic binding?!) because I, too, would like to do this kind of work. It sounds so interesting.

Later that week, I stop at the brand new library and am so excited by the beauty of this new space (I wish more libraries were so welcoming and functional), by the neatly lined books on the shelves, the environmentally friendly countertops, the soaring windows, the gloriousness of ideas and thinking that I think to myself, “I should be a librarian.” I leave the library trembling; the space has gotten me so giddy. I spend an entire week trying to find a certificate program that I can complete at a pace that would still allow me to care for my family the way I want to. In the midst of all this research I also decide that I should perhaps volunteer at the library so that I can be sure this is the work I really want to do and, you know, have some relevant experience on my resume when I apply to the library certificate program of my dreams. And so I make many calls to figure out where they repair the books for the library system because isn’t that the whole reason I started down this path?

All this time I am soooo excited I have finally figured out what I want to do with my life. I’ve been searching forever and, my gosh, it’s been right in front of my nose. It’s perfect. I LOVE books and everything about them and I can’t wait to be a librarian! I can’t wait to buy some neat little librarian glasses to wear to work.

(At the same time I’m cooking up a storm with mesquite flour, whole wheat flour, etc. after discovering a new cookbook during that same trip.)

And then I revisit a few essays that I’ve been working on and I remember, oh yes, I am a writer. And I will always be a writer. I’ve got multiple degrees in writing. And even when I get irritated with writing, or actually not the writing, but the BUSINESS of writing, I always come back to it. It’s a perfect outlet for my inquisitiveness. I don’t know if I’ll ever publish enough to support my family because so far it’s just been an article here and an article there. And I guess that’s fine for now, but it’s not really what I had in mind.

And then I think, “I really don’t want to go back to school to be a librarian. I’ve had enough of being told what and when to read and what and when to write.”  It’s the ultimate freedom to read and write and think as your mind pleases. Plus, I’d rather take the money I’d spend on tuition and either buy loads of books or just move to Sweden for months.

And then I stumble across an interview of author/illustrator Melissa Sweet and she says, “…I take classes every year in anything that seems remotely interesting. From making a telescope, bookbinding, blacksmithing, tin toys from old cans — I’ll try anything. It helps me think differently and be facile with divergent materials…I like working three-dimensionally, which is really what a book is.” And it sets me free. It gives me permission to take as many classes as I want without having to become a professional [fill in the blank]. I’m curious and I love to learn and taking classes and reading books is the best way I know to do this. And besides, I can’t help it.

Then my watercolor class begins and I fall in love with the medium. It’s wonderful and it makes me so happy. Of course, I have little thoughts of doing this professionally and putting together a show, then teaching and writing books about watercolor. But I reign myself in and remember that it’s OK to just do this, just try this, just learn this, without expectations or thought for the future.

And somewhere under the layers I wonder, “Where is all this leading me? What am I doing?”

And then I’m reading a book, “The Paris Review Interviews: Women Writers at Work” and in the interview with Katherine Anne Porter she says, “It is my firm belief that all our lives we are preparing to be somebody or do something even if we don’t do it consciously. And the time comes one morning when you wake up and find that you have become irrevocably what you were preparing all this time to be. Lord, that could be a sticky moment, if you had been doing the wrong things, something against your grain.” and it is like a balm for my fevered mind, my fevered soul. And I am so grateful for people, for women, who have been where I am and who have left clues to help me figure out my way: Madeleine L’ Engle, Katherine Anne Porter, Natalie Merchant, Melissa Sweet. Thank you.

And then I hear that a dear, old friend has opened a successful, innovative photography studio and is thriving. The last I saw this boy, now man, he was deep in the dreaming stage. But I could see, even back then, that he had something important and beautiful to do in this life. And it gives me such a shot of hope to see that it is possible to be a successful, creative, kind, productive person.

At my second to last watercolor class I ask my instructor how he knew watercolor was his thing. He doesn’t really give a satisfactory answer, but he opens up more when I tell him I’m trying to find my thing. Another student, who I am sure is in her 60s, overhears our conversation and together she and my instructor proceed to tell me to just keep trying and keep testing and reading and exploring. They say, “Who knows, maybe you’ll combine all these things some way. Just keep on doing what you’re doing. You’re still a spring chick.” And it strikes me that each person in that basement room has searched or is searching for their thing. And this makes me not feel so lonely or stupid.

And it feels good to hear these words, but it’s also hard because I can’t remember a time in my life when I didn’t want to do, create something wonderful and I don’t feel any closer to it now than I did 10, 20 years ago.

dancing trees

from Prince Caspian, book #4 in The Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis:

"Pale birch-girls were tossing their heads, willow-women pushed back their hair from their brooding face to gaze on Aslan, the queenly beeches stood still and adored him, shaggy oak-men, lean and melancholy elms, shock-headed hollies (dark themselves, but their wives all bright with berries) and gay rowans, all bowed and rose again, shouting, "Aslan, Aslan!" in their various husky or creaking or wave-like voices."

ten things about me

1. I love books: reading them, making them, writing them
2. I don’t own a television
3. I am addicted to learning. My most recent classes include watercolor painting, guitar playing, bookbinding, penmanship improvement, personal essay creation and archery.
4. I have no idea what I want to be when I grow up
5. I love being outside
6. I love to create via sewing, knitting, painting, baking, cooking, writing
7. I love to move my body: running, walking, lifting, yoga-ing, hiking
8. I am energized by ideas, conversation, books because these things help me find new connections between disparate topics
9. I love the uniqueness of each season
10. I love lists

cookie connection

My family has lived in Fredericksburg, VA for two months now and our transition has been a very smooth one largely because our dearest friends live here. Their presence here was one of the driving factors that made it seem like taking this 18-month assignment like not such a loony idea. I highly recommend having a best friend in place in your new home the next time you move. See if the powers that be can add that to your relocation package!

A small, negligible side effect of having dear friends already in place is that we really haven’t made an effort to get to know others in our neighborhood. We did make the rounds at Halloween specifically to meet people and this effort has netted us a lot of people to wave to when we walk or drive through the neighborhood. But, it has not moved beyond the friendly wave.

I am not overly concerned about this for two reasons: 1. We already have great friends in the area and 2. We are only going to be here for 16 more months. How much effort do I want to put into friendships that may be short-lived? The thought that trumps these two factors is the plain and simple idea that I WANT to try and befriend my neighbors. Some deep down desire is urging me to reach out. And obviously, I could use the practice making friends.

Our neighborhood is like most others: people leave for work early and after a busy day they drive into their garage and close the door behind them and then they stay inside for the rest of the night. That scenario doesn’t present many opportunities to connect. However, it also doesn’t mean that people don’t need friends.

But how does one make friends? A great question for a psychologist or perhaps a doctoral student to answer. I’m not sure. And as I reflect on how I connected with my dearest friends it seems that the best answer I can give is fate, luck, circumstance or something along that line brought us together. I don’t want to leave my friendships, my connections to chance here.

Yesterday, I was at my friend’s house and she had plates of cookies on her counter to take to her neighbors. I asked her about the cookies and this launched a lengthy discussion about how much work it is to be a friend and why every moment spent trying to befriend someone is well spent time.

In the midst of that conversation, I decided that I’d make cookies and take them to the three families whose waves and smiles have regularly brightened my day.

At the moment, the cookie dough is in the fridge and I have an afternoon cleared to bake.

I’ll report back with the results when I get them.

How do you make friends?

be happy

Have a sense of wonder.
Stay inspired.
Help others.
Do things you're good at.
Read books.
Limit television.
Love your work.
Exercise.
Face your fears.
Believe in yourself.
Stay close to friends and family.
Let your heart be your guide.
                       ~ by Monica Sheehan

splurge

I have probably checked this book out from the library upward of 12 times. I've lost track. But as of early this week, I am a proud owner of my very own copy. It is a perfect marriage of word and art.

The pleasures of being surrounded by things that you love and that inspire you.

foggy river bottom