June Dreams

Even though July is nearing its end I have yet to post about that ever strange and tumultuous month of June.  This year it did not fool me.  I hoped that perhaps it would bring the sun but only a few days shone.  Some so brightly that it was overwhelming.  But not here...

 
Halfway through June I flew many miles with one of my best friends to be in the same room with my ultimate icon Joni Mitchell.  If you are new here, well I've mentioned her before once or twice.

Not only did we listen to her talk for a glorious hour and a half, absorbing all those things that you can only do in person; mannerisms, facial expressions etc. but we also spent an entire 36 hours together without the four boys that we brought into the world.

Talking without interruption, browsing art galleries, tea shops, gift stores and one very lovely fabric store.
So this June brought with it a whirlwind dream for me in the midst of chicken pox, summer camp and jet lag.
Looking back on the month, it was filled to the brim.  Finally seeing the Les Mis stage production, Elliott having his first sleepover at Grandma's, it was busy.
And in moments of stress I go back there, to that small 36 hours away, trying to feel that freedom, trying to remember that feeling of elation in my stomach as Joni walked on stage in her simple and authentic way.
What a memory to have, and I am so grateful to the guy that made it all happen.  Luckily I get to see him everyday and I know that in the future we can share some more big dreams together.

The May Dance

A month of anticipation is May.  Building towards something, bursting forth with newness and light.  Our May was filled with new commitments, new blooms, new ideas, new strength.  I tried to take moments to appreciate the sun and rain.  So often I can be too absorbed by getting things crossed off my list or with the most recent breakdown in communication between a 5 and 2 year old to just exist.

Yoga helps me with this.  And the building of my spiritual practice will help with that as well.  I was lucky to celebrate Beltaine to start off the month and the tradition of those involved and the things we did to mark the day felt good.  A steady, warm place.  A place of connection between souls as the ribbons went around the pole.

There have been notes jotted down, and sketches drawn.  I've found a spring rhythm and yet summer comes knocking soon.  The sensation that fills me most days is one of waiting as a door is slowly swung open to reveal a lush landscape ahead.

I have to navigate the path, stopping often to check the status of myself and my loves.  We walk together though we are different seekers on the journey.  May heralds a time to dance for a while and then reflect.

Goodbye in a Whisper

From baby to little boy.  A milestone happened this month.  3 years after Kyan weaned in May 2010, Elliott is now in the ranks of post-breastfed.  Both times as weaning approached I expected a bigger denouement but reading over my post about Kyan weaning reminds me that these life moments are so rarely big.  There are no fireworks, it just ends.  Elliott protested a bit at bedtime but transitioned amazingly fast.

Our breastfeeding relationship went very smoothly.  He caught on quickly and was very clear about his needs.  I must say the second time around was more fluid and I fought it less ie: less worrying about him never weaning or I guess just less worrying in general.  I knew it would happen in time.

 So rather than get into my personal issues with the process, what it does to me etc, etc, I'm just going to say that 2 years, 2 months, and 3 weeks was the length of this intimate bond with Elliott.  And now our relationship is moving to another place.
 

I was once invited to a "got my breasts back" party held by a triumphant mama who was finished breastfeeding after having two children.  I can't say that I feel like having a party, rather I feel like marking the moment as I have here and looking forward instead.  There is so much on the horizon with the boys, and with how growing up happens in a family.  This stage is over for us.  This bond will only live in Elliott's internal consciousness as a feeling of warmth, security and love.  I am so lucky to have had the time to share this with both boys and now I say goodbye in a whisper and let it all float away on the May wind.

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.