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I'm enjoying my summer of denial.
I'm spending a fair amount of time denying that I'll be back at work full time rather soon.
I'm spending time denying that my boy will be packing up for his first year of college far, far away in a couple of weeks.
I'm also spending time denying that my garage needs a good clean out.

This means we've had days of indoor reorg, cooking, movies and walks with dogs and now, finally, some art.

I'm taking this super fun online class at CreativeBug with the quite wonderful Pam Garrison. A class on Creative Sketchbooking with the first exercises intended to help you free up art ideas. So up my alley.

Here's my first non-dominant hand ink and paint process.

My girlie was sitting along and drawing along with me and she urged me to try a bird like Pam's. I love birds (see blog title) and kinda laugh at the outcome. Fun. Fun. Fun.

I see a bit of influence from the art journal peops I tend to follow. And a lot of me. Leaves and hearts seem to show up quite a bit. And blueberries.

You should try this course! I don't know how I missed out on the VALUE of Creative Bug. Monthly price ($4.95?) and seemingly unlimited opportunities to learn and play
Even the amazing Yao Cheng teaches watercolor. Really how did I miss this?

Go! Find something and create.

Keep Practicing!

I have a newfound appreciation for the art of practice.

My very earliest recollections of practice were when I was eleven and a violin was placed in my hands. Initially the practice was just to be able to find a note. Get a sound.

But then, it became about finding a string of notes, a lyric, a rhythm and at some point it became about playing. Oh! The double entendre. Playing. Not so much for me at the time. I was working! I wanted to be really good, I wanted to have my teacher and my friends notice this. But of course, it takes facility. All this practicing wasn't building to one point, it was the point. Somehow either the adults around me never said it, or I just didn't get it.

Practice is exploring.

Practice is learning.

Practice is the path.

It can be that we practice what we love. If we let go, we can fall in love with what we practice. 

Since seeing the movie Whiplash, my son, a fairly talented trumpet player, has taken to loads more practice sessions. He sees the connection. Practice is a path leading to the level where he'll have more freedom. 

Me? I love to write. I have since high school, (which was a while ago). I began, then, filling spiral bound notebooks with words. And poems, and ideas and rants and schemes and dreams. I wrote and write because I love words. I love connections. I love the connections that words allow. Words in my head and words on a page. Strings of words that at some point become a real idea. Many mornings as I get those pages filled, I'm simply exploring -- practicing moving my hand and my mind together.

I've tried to keep this in my thought as I've approached other arts. So, some twenty months ago the words art journal came across my path and I added some art to a journal and then more and then, I, who know nothing about art, was making some art. Gratefully, I could hear my own words -- the ones I'd said to my kiddos when they were little and playing with art:

Art is an exploration.

Today Pam Garrison shared a bit about how important the rhythm of practice really is. Her work is wonderful. Always an inspiration, and because she writes about it in her fabulous blog -- we get a peek into how she thinks and all the joy she spills all over the place. While you go there, just look at all the practice. (It doesn't look to me like she wants her teacher to notice what she got right.)

All of this reminds me of the Ira Glass quote floating around right now. 

Then I remembered, I'd found something similar on the interwebs a while ago and pinned it somewhere. It's important. Oh, and it turns out Pam Garrison put dip pen to paper to share it. 

Here's my take: Practice doesn't make perfect. Practice makes possible.

Oh, and thanks Pam.

Birds and Flowers

It might be time to step up and share the messing around. While studying, working, being a wife, mom, and GSD owner, keeps me busy and happy, so does cooking, writing and painting. For the last two or three years, the writing has been largely kept to the morning pages; three a day every morning in a spiral bound notebook. The cooking has been a bit on the fly and largely undocumented. And, this flirting with art has moved its way into my life. At first it was a gentle call, then tug, a pull, a shove. I feel like God is intervening for the sake of creating.

So it goes. I'm paying attention and taking a couple of online courses. Exciting! I love this one. And am fully dedicated to this one. Signed up for this one, too. Each of them offers a different focus and each is available for a full year or two so I can work as I go and take the space I need in my studio.

Which to many people looks like a kitchen.

I'm open. To being pushed. Pushing. Advancing this long awaited cause. I've collected art supplies and played around with paints, art journaling, etc. forever. So a big dollop of focus and a slug of intent gets poured into the cup and voila. Art. Emerging. Joy, too.

I'll gladly share that Janice MacLeod Lik and her wondrous book, (which you need to read) PARIS LETTERS, provided some pretty big inspiration. Her book seemed to ignite something; combining the lingering influence of a post college Paris trip and all those revisiting references in literature and culinary studies. Once I put the book down, the colors and brushes came out.

Janice once shared that she's beholden to art supplies. Read the post, she might say she's crazy when it comes to art supplies. Her words were like permission. (Hilariously truthful permission.) So, off I went to snag the supplies needed for the block class. I learned all about Dick Blick (who, if we ever really meet, will be my favorite man in the world for a while. Diamonds? No thanks, I'll take art supplies.) and Jerry's Art-A-Rama and finally, the capitol of the world of art stores, Art Supply Warehouse, right here eight short miles from my home. They have everything. Everything. From the right block of beginner watercolor paper to the fanciest single block pans. Every Copic marker color and the paper it won't run through. Everything.
Janice would have a field day.

So now, all seems to be right in the world. I find myself a much happier girl and each day I want to wake up a little earlier to get something on paper before the world calls me into my next steps. I'm learning from words I've said to my lovey kiddos from their first days with color and paper: Art is an exploration.

I'm up for the exploring.

A moment of realizing.

We were simply sitting on the deck at Joan and Ed's enjoying our New Year's Brunch. 

The conversation, the food and the gorgeous California canyon Sunday was just perfect and wonderful. As was the company of these three little families who've been growing a friendship with great intent for fifteen or so years. 

And suddenly in the calm of the whir of enjoyment, I was arrested by the absolute beauty of the child sitting across from me. The sight stopped my musings and gave me pause -- and a small gift.

It was a stunning realization. These kiddos we trap in our mind at different ages and moments are so far from the little ones we carried in Bjorns and carted everywhere on Group adventures.

They've moved into a launch space. On that bridge we have to walk them across, sometimes close behind, sometimes right next to and then, too, at a painful and encouraging distance. This one, this child, not my own, but of my heart and woven into the fabric of my life and the lives of my family, made me see. These beautiful, talented, interesting and interested people are moving quickly into their own.

And there really is not so much else to say.

The September Issue & Anna Wintour

Over the last few days I've been taking bites out of a documentary I quite enjoyed: The September Issue - Anna Wintour & the making of VOGUE. I'd started by trying to watch The Devil Wears Prada and had the kind folks at Netflix suggest I watch this. I've loved it. Such an interesting look at how an issue -- the big September issue -- of VOGUE is produced. And there was quite a stunning contrast to the fictionalized story in The Devil Wears Prada. Watching Meryl Streep in her turn as the Wintouresque mag editor was such fun but I certainly didn't get the work ethic and pure sense of dedication to perfection I saw in the actual Ms. Wintour.

I plan to watch it again, and thoroughly digest it, but from my first viewing, I walked away with a few of distinct notions:

Wintour is fully dedicated to fashion and the success of her magazine.
Wintour embraces her decisive ability.
Not everyone who works and lives in fashion is glamorous and young. In fact, the woman who stole my heart throughout the piece is Grace Coddington who is wonderful, wonderful, wonderful but neither of the former. Just magnificent and talented and wildly creative and, well, wonderful. I was pleasantly surprised. Enthused and inspired even.

If you care about fashion at all, I recommend you take a peak at it.

Visual Feasting

Here are a just few of my favorite visual things:
None are mine, all from favorite blogs.
Enjoy.

 From Spain Daily.

From A Journey to a Happy, Simple Life.

From The Yellow Door Paperie.

 

Sent to me. So beautiful, but the artist is unknown.

Posty All Over

Well, the caterpillars were a beautiful, deep, rich brown and rather than swarming, came slowly out and waited before flying off.

It was rather ethereal and unexpected. Well, for me. I kinda thought there might be a shower of 200+ butterflies. But they came, each in it's own time.

Me?
Well, I am still incubating the chrysalis thoughts.

I find myself rather swamped in my job.

I am also recuperating from some crazy tough virus that had some flu symptoms but mostly just kept me on my back for days.

And in the midst of it, these funny guys with their opinion. I don't know that I completely agree. I wasn't expecting the flu. But I'll ponder.

What do you think?

Oh, and are you still there?

Appreciating

Rain yesterday. Today beauty.

The forecast? Gratitude with a bit of appreciation.

A cup of Joe.

Can we agree? It can be summer, winter, spring, fall, your house, my kitchen, the yard, the garden, on a walk. A Saturday morning and a cup of coffee is a thing of great joy.

Living your life.

First, a deep breath.
Then, a realization out of observation.
We really should be living our lives.

My friend Mary worked for years and years in her family's food supply business. She was the sales manager. The beautiful, interesting and highly competent daughter of the magnificent founder and owner.
As her neighbor, I spend a fair amount of time in and around her home. It's beautiful, too. The kitchen is cozy when we're chatting at the big old wooden kitchen table by the fire. You feel a sense of place and ever changing art-stuff throughout. Sitting areas are settings. Outdoors and in. It's peaceful. It's eclectically cluttered with big pieces of furniture and lights draped here and there, for the joy of effect.

Recently, the recession and credit crunch slowed the family business to a point where she and her siblings decided there was wisdom in closing. It was a horrendous time for all of them. They'd taken over and continued to grow this wonderful small business, honoring their dad and then the plug just seemed to be pulled.
Within a week or so, another friend of ours found himself in a bind. He owns a couple-story spec house at the beach and needed it completely furnished - beautifully. He hired Mary to do the work.

The final look, the touch, the setting in each room is magnificent.

She couldn't have done it if she were doing her old job.
She's supposed to be designing more.
And enjoying her home more.
Her garden more.
Somehow, this abrupt passage is allowing her to become more of who she is.
To live her life more fully.
And it makes me all the more interested, with my heart and ears open:

Am I living this life to the full?

All of this is the work of Mary Cecile Landis, for information about her Southern California based designs, contact me. She's busy on a project in Beverly Hills this week, though.

Another place

This little bird is living the life.
He's near the dining tables at the indoor and outdoor restaurant at our favorite vacation spot.
I'm daydreaming of spending some time watching he and his friends consider crumbs, while I consider the expanse of the ocean.
Most certainly, its the longing for the delight of change and things distant but familiar.

How I love being taught by the other Mamas ~ The Name is Mom

"Thank you, Mom!"

Very simply, I love learning more about being Mom. I am in the phase with a pre and a teen where I'm doing the mom thing differently. I feel more awake and aware in it than ever. I like it. My awakening is to the changes around my folks. They are thinkers and doers and interesting people. My mothering requires wisdom and thought.
Imagine how thrilled I am to find this post from Mary at The Yellow Door Paperie on teaching gratitude. I hope you enjoy it too. What inspires you on your path?

Inspired Island Four Step Chicken

My husband and my teen man are enthralled with Robert Irvine on Dinner Impossible. They tape the show and watch it together. They are always amazed at what Robert and his team can pull off. Me too, only I have a little kitchen experience and can almost feel the rhythm of invention as he and David and George go.
This afternoon when we walked in after school, Dad had the TV ready to go. All activity came to a halt. It was the episode where Robert's mission was to serve the LOST cast and crew LOST style. (Oh, some of us are major LOST fans. Major. ) You can see this episode on Food Network or Hulu or somewhere, somehow. It doesn't seem to be on-line quite yet.
Watching Robert cook shrimp in a pineapple inspired me to whip up an island version of Melissa D'Arabian's Four Step Chicken. Oh, and these baby peppers from Trader Joe's called out to me too. (We saw Hurley. Did I mention we have major LOST fans?)

Islandy Four Step Chicken

• Season flour with salt, pepper and 1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
• Cut 4 chicken breasts into lengthwise strips - toss in flour
• Add to heated skillet seasoned with 2 Tablespoons Extra Virgin Olive Oil
• Toss in skillet until nearly cooked through
• Remove from pan and set aside
• Add Maui Onion, chopped, with 1/4 teaspoon thyme, sweat on low
• Add 1/2 cup fresh or frozen pineapple chopped
• Add 6 baby red, orange, yellow peppers cut lengthwise in quarters
• Remove when softened
• Deglaze pan with 3/4 cup chicken stock and 1/4 cup white wine
• Reduce
• Return chicken to pan over low heat
• Return veggies and fruit
• Add sliced about 6 sliced strawberries

Serve over brown and wild rice.

I was tempted to mash a couple of tiny coconut macaroons into the mixture for flavor and thickening. Next time.
Melissa's Recipe has become my favorite fall back. As long as I can find inspiration in a tomato, and olive, lemon or now, pineapple, I'm in great shape.
What inspires you in the kitchen?

A rubber band or two and God ~ The Name is Mom

I'm not saying whom, but someone in my house (besides me) can spit out snappy responses with a bite. (OK, more than one someone.) I've found myself concerned, confounded, curious about the how of the necessary change. Admonishment, punishment, etc.? Not so effective when the moment strikes and the response is spat. So there we are, my Missy and I on Sunday at church and our pastor takes the stage (in my younger days it was a pulpit - now it's a stage) and begins to talk about blessing with our mouths.

Two seconds into it, I was giddy. Exuberant even. There he was, my friend, my brother, my pastor talking directly to me...I mean, my girlie and I, us, her, us! Bless. Choose to bless. Bless with your tongue. Oh the talk is much longer about how he got there and the James and Corinthians scriptures that underscore the dangers of the tongue, but all that mattered was the shift.

As a mom I know the distraction away from "don't" to "do" is powerful. And there we were. Soaking it in. Bless.
Bless.
Bless.

Then he handed out these lovely bracelets (rubber bands) to remind ourselves every time we revert to misusing our mouths. We're in. Both of us. Even as we snap away, the awareness has shifted. Oh, I love my new point of view and I love watching daughter, my friend snappin!

Once in a while God does the parenting.

Sissy Sunday

Hi! I am so glad it is Sissy Sunday! This new segment is called Sissy Sunday, as you might have noticed. I am a guest blogger, and I am ten! This week I am going to show you one of my favorite thing that I have ever drawn. This is an abstract piece.  Every week I am going to talk about something that I have drawn. I hope this inspires you. In this piece of artwork, I chose to do, I used only four colors. Black, purple, green and blue! At my school, in art class, we were working on an abstract drawing. My wonderful art teacher helped me to come up with this idea. I have done three of these now. 
Art is my favorite special in my school. I so badly wish that we could have it every day! :D
Next week I am going to tell you about the palm trees I painted! Can't wait!! See you next week!

Russelina ~ Day 6

I'm not really sure I ever noted, with such watchful eye, the change in a rose. Old Russelina is wearing her petals a bit lower as she eases some of them down to the ground.
It looks to me, rather poetically, that her friends form her crown. 

Quotable Sunday ~ My Grandfather's Blessing

"Recovering a greater compassion may require us to confront the core values of our culture. We are a culture that values mastery and control, that cultivates self-sufficiency, competence, independence. But in the shadow of these values lies a profound rejection of our human wholeness. As individuals and as a culture we have developed a sort of contempt for anything in ourselves and in others that has needs, and is capable of suffering. It is not a gentle world."   

-Rachel Naomi Remen, M.D., My Grandfather's Blessings. 

A wonderful gift from my friend Heather in 2001. A huge gift today.

And Russel's Cottage on the 3rd day.