April's Restless Moon

There are many more poetic names for April's moon: Pink moon, Sprouting Grass moon, Egg moon....but at this moment Restless is all I can call it.  After two nights in a row of disturbed sleep, tossing, crying, calling out, strange dreams, I'm a little on the grumpy side.

This month has been great in terms of weather, we've planted some seeds, watched some grow bigger than their little pots, started soccer, singing and swimming.  The boys have taken a cue from the seedlings and are growing and eating like crazy.  The events in Boston, Texas and family emergencies have been overwhelming and emotional.

The fullness of this time of life comes up often.  Full schedules, full heads, the fullness of life being reborn with the spring.  I'm trying to take concrete steps to keep us flowing with this but the month has left both Dave and I and probably the boys too feeling tired and slow to adjust to the longer days of light.

My new artwork schedule has been put in place and is rewarding beyond words.  Having set aside that time to just make art and let out the images or words that build up inside out of my head, along with a weekly yoga practice and time in nature feeds my soul.  I feel like a more whole person; like the pieces of me that have been on the back burner have equal footing.

With this change comes transitions that are contributing to the restlessness though.  Weaning Elliott, I remember it not being easy and overall it is going very well.  But there is a certain cry he'll make at night when he really just wants to nurse but I've already given him his scant allotment of two short sessions and it is just so forlorn.  It makes me so sad.  That cry cuts right to my guts, pulling out guilt and sorrow for the baby stage that is soon to go and will never be seen again by us.  It is really such a personal thing between him and I, a journey begun at his birth, somewhat of an extension of the pregnancy itself in that only the two of us share it.  I can only hope that we are moving at a pace that is sensitive to his development and that once this season of our bond comes to an end it will fade into his unconscious like it did with his brother in such a way that Kyan has no memory of nursing beyond the physical closeness that we shared which he continues to experience through hugs and cuddles.

Change, transitions, new green, sprouts, sunshine, rain, restless birthing spring.

Settled

Three years later and Kyan's quilt is done.  That took a bit longer than I had hoped but it feels great to see him sleeping underneath it at night.  I learned quite a few things about quilting while making this; the biggest lesson being that the first step of cutting fabric is crucial to be mindful of.  I don't have all the fancy quilt tools or lingo mastered and I'm not sure if I ever will.  But I am satisfied by the end result and plan to make one for Elliott who will be on the bottom bunk, and a new summer quilt for our own bed (at some point)

While working on several projects the last few months I've decided to try and have one to two art projects and one home/gift sewing project coinciding.  This seems to give me a rhythm to follow and the option to move from one to another in case I need a change or circumstances won't let me be in the sewing room to work.  As my camera has gotten something on the lens my iphone pics is all I have to share the finished quilt. In the next few months I'll get a professional photo taken which will show the details much better.

March: Bringing up the rear

 This March brought much sweetness to our days.  Spending two weeks where I grew up with family and friends and trying to make maple syrup yet again.  It seems that the sap doesn't flow just because I really, really want it to.  But what the cold kept away the warmth of being surrounded by familiar people and the grounding nature of place filled up; not just for me of course but for my boys too.

When you live far away from the people who raised you, where your peers growing up, and know you in your first awkward and/or innocent versions it is surreal to return sometimes.  I often feel a bit out of sorts trying to reconcile the me of the past with the me of now.  But then you feel the old bonds, are taken care of in ways that speak more to your soul than to your rational mind and when I leave I feel full.  Full of the energy of those who formed my sense of self, who shared years of memories and made the person I am now possible.

  

So while the cold temperatures were difficult for this west coast convert to accept, there is no mistaking the spring in my step and deep gratitude I feel for being able to go home again.  And while we were away the youngest member of the family turned 2.  Oh, goodness here he is, 2 already.  I can't say that I wish he wasn't exactly where he is.  This little ball of cuteness that is full of mischief and silly grins, I dare say he is most perfectly himself and that makes this spring all the brighter (and of course busy).

So the thing about March is that it was over in a flash and now we are in full on spring mode and there is so much to say, so much good art about, and so much life being lived.  I can't help but feel optimism oozing out of everyone's pores.  2013 is quite a trip so far.

February rains

The rains have fallen as they tend to do here in the month of February, and cold dampness often got into our bones.  I am not sad to see this month end.  There were good things and stresses all wrapped up together.  The clumps of time seeming endless but rushing by at the same time.

Around us the earth is awakening here, slowly but surely.  Ambitious friends already have greens from their garden, the tulip shoots are rising out of our front bed and I've been studying the seed catalog and making ever new plans of what to try and grow.

One of the wonderful parts of the month was learning that my piece sold in the art show I was in.  Through the generosity of this art supporter I made my first art sale.  A surreal moment on this journey that swept me up and really all began with a late night summer tarot read.

The cards on that warm night said that this direction was the right one, that I had to go full force and make manifest.  The warmth of that message, my friend who read them to me, and the fire we had just left carried me through the fall winds, winter freeze and past all my worries and doubts in my ability to make it happen.

This month we will travel to Quebec and visit my family and friends.  So many dear faces and memories will wrap around us.  More and more these days I pull out hand made items to remind us of our dear ones who are far away.  I am lucky to have many crafters in my family.  My mother's afghans, a quilt, a rug, and a cross stitch.  My grandmother's quilt, knit socks, knit dishcloths, embroidered place mats, mittens, scarves and toques.  My aunt's quilt for Ky and needlepoint that was a wedding gift.  My sister's cross stitch, also a wedding gift.  All of these things shelter us, and are pulled over or looked at in the cold rain to keep in the warmth and remind us of our roots.

When you live far from your family you need the reminder of these soft things.  Their energy was put into them and remains as you use them.  I've made many things with the energy of their intended recipient worked in.  As things are made I think of that person wearing them or looking at them.  It was very surreal when my art piece sold because for many weeks I had no idea who had purchased it.  I wondered where it would go and marveled that it was no longer mine and I would never see it again.  Luckily the man was generous and shared his email so I could contact him and when I did I received a wonderful reply.
So the foreign feeling of letting the piece go has subsided into a reassured feeling that he was meant to find this art and keep it for his own.  And that my future mission (should I choose to accept it) is to keep making and fulfilling the needs of others to look and share and perhaps keep an experience.

Desert Path, Embroidery & Quilting on original cotton printed photo, 2012

All this while the February rains pelted or slowly pattered down.  

from the January quiet

Pulling back from this space was an interesting break in January (er....most of February...)  I felt a certain shift where the impulse to post dwindled and the change has brought me to new horizons in creative practice.  Mainly that this writing will become more of a companion to my visual work, and less reflective of the outside world.

As for sharing about my family and our journey together they will be here as ever, since my world is tied in every aspect to each step they take.  Steps like registering from Kindergarten in the fall, stringing sentences together, drawing 3 or more masterpieces a day and leaving them in strategic places to be found by respective recipients.  Words are being figured out and written, as are numbers.  Conflicts arise between brothers with a bond so strong already that it warms the heart over and over each day.

Sometimes it takes years to register just how much choice we have over our time.  For me I've been able to see clearly in the last few months that I have to prioritize my goals in a concrete way.  What I tended to do for the last 5 years was lament and then waste time on things that were diversions more than enriching experiences.

As a mom my time is rarely dictated by myself alone, and yet I have started to align tasks for each day.  Thinking what needs to get done and what can wait.  Sometimes I make a list and cross it off, other times I keep a shorter list in my head.  This simple step has helped me especially on days when I'm overwhelmed by the amount to get done.

I've also been trying to take my own advice and focus on one thing until it is done.  I constantly remind a certain 5 year old to focus on the task at hand, get your coat on, clean these cars up, etc and then think of the next thing to do.  It is not easy for me since I have a "big picture" brain that jumps around constantly.  But   with that focus has come a comfort, something is accomplished however small.  Previously I was surrounded by projects in various stages of completion and two boys undoing most of what was done.

Live and learn they say...and in this case it is true.

From the January quiet much has surfaced.  A regular yoga routine and soon family hiking excursions.  Simultaneously this year I have decided to develop my art practice to a regular part of our family life, and already for next year I've decided that my spiritual practice (along with spirituality explorations for the boys) will find it's place in the rhythm as well.

Stamina is a word that February has brought forth.  How to increase it, how to maintain it, how to nurture it. Good food, exercise, outdoor time, family time.  As the pieces come together some parts of our old life do not fit and so are either removed or reshaped to fit the new mold.

This blog is like that for me.  Being remolded, finding a new place and tone.  And I think that is good.  Change is good.  Thanks for taking this journey and I plan to be here more frequently now that our new pace is settling down and my desire to share is finding it's new voice.

Eat more salad, Drink more water...

Happy New Year.

There are changes happening in everyone's lives... the change of the calendar always inspires new actions, resolutions, goals.  It's an arbitrary new beginning, but it never ceases to inspire many of us onward towards something different.  In past years I've listed goals in this space and I always create a small list to help my scattered dreamer mind focus as life rushes around me.
On Winter Solstice I sat for an hour by my altar and focused on goals, wrote down my dreams, meditated on what I could realistically expect from myself at this season of my life.

In truth the new year began for me sometime after Autumn Equinox of 2012.  I felt a new daring, energy that I may have never felt as concisely before in my life.  It was telling me to take chances, to step outside my comfort zones, to believe that I could make my life happen.

I've been a bit surprised with some of the realities of this new energy.  Balancing art making with homemaking is not easy.  Keeping it all in hand has brought countless opportunities to learn.  I've learned more about myself and my limits, learned about how much I can expect from others, gosh more lessons than I've even completely absorbed at this point.  

Over the years this blog has been a repository for whatever my mind and soul felt compelled to share.  That is changing as I endeavor towards new territory in my career and eventually with my spiritual work and home life.  For now things will look much the same but when my website launches sometime this year (not putting too much pressure on myself in terms of dates) I will be moving my creative and art musings to a new blog connected to the site.  This blog will remain my personal journey with my family and for more directly pagan writings, although my artwork and spirituality are very closely tied so we'll have to see how that develops.  This new direction is exciting and feels very right for this moment.

And speaking of this moment or tonight to be exact I'm thrilled to announce that I'm in an art show.  It is a group juried show with the theme of Earth.  I worked away during October to produce a quilted piece and was just beside myself when I was accepted.  Details for the show can be found here.

So this is a new year, and a new world for me filled new horizons to explore.  I feel along way from art school and a bit out of my element but that is what challenges are all about.  So to tie my title into this post I have many aspirations for this year, two are as simple as eat more salad and drink more water, others are as complicated as find concrete time for creating and forging new working relationships in the art world.   But they are all open and fresh and offer many adventures down the road.

Thanks for coming along for the ride.

around here: December 2012

Our month has been full of good times.  Visits to lots of festive places, wide eyes, birthday celebrations and sharing.  Solstice was quiet and small as usual, maybe even more so this year. 

We had lots of snow for Solstice which was very festive feeling.  It also added to the peacefulness.

We fed the birds on our Solstice walk and I set up my altar that evening.  Winter's mantle has settled over us these days and we sleep later and go to bed earlier.  It just seems to fit where we are right now.