Taking the Summer Off

 

As an artist and mother, I’ve always worked year round with an occasional family vacation. And believe me I full intended to keep on, keeping on regardless of the changes in my life. In fact, I can get very stubborn about sticking to my work schedule which I’ve developed over the last 20 years. 

But now, I just can’t. 

Life changes and losses have hit me hard, leaving me feeling overwhelmed. Unresolved grief is sapping my energy. The more I fight it, the harder it is. Finally, I figured out forcing myself to keep marching ahead is just not working. 

Time to chill. 

As the traditional school year winds down, I started to remember my childhood summers. I biked to the woods and rested under trees. I read outside on the neighbors covered patio. I splashed in the community pool and played hide and seek after dinner until it got dark. 

I think the key words here: Play and Rest. 

While I love creating in clay and paint and glaze, my goal is to make work that sells. And I’ve been showing and selling my work for over 20 years now. Yes, my work has changed and so have I. When mentioned that to a fellow artist, she said that art is supposed to evolve. I felt a weight lifted. 

A balance of work and play and rest. Yes. 

There’s always something that needs to be done, but do I have to do it right now? Probably not. And has my creative work become less fun? Probably yes, because it’s become work. With all the life changes of the past 3 years, I’m exhausted.  I need time to feel the losses. Feel the sadness and tiredness. Find ways to heal and fill my soul again. 

And as much as I want to feel better fast, the more I push, the worse it gets. I can feel that what I need to feel better is to stop pushing myself. I need to slow down. But I know myself and doing nothing is not the way out either. 

The other day, the 3 C’s came to me. Three things I can do: crochet, clay and cleaning. Crochet is easy and comforting. Clay, now for play only, helps to feed my soul. And cleaning helps to clear my mind and my home of cobwebs. 

A summer to rest. 

Let myself live easier. 

Breath by breath. Step by step. 

Doing things that comfort and clear. 

And bring more ways for me to play. 

Happy December to You

 

As I sit here on the window seat watching the winter sun set, I wonder. What will tomorrow bring? Sun? Rain? Warmth? Cold? Does it even matter?

Watching the clouds softly moving in a light blue gray sky, I sigh. Even though it’s the end of another day, it doesn’t feel that way to me. I see layers of clouds and light sky and deeper blue clouds and distant trees pointing upward. There are streetlights turning on. A stop light blinking red and green through the trees. And strings of colored lights on a rooftop a few streets over. 

There’s a lot of light to see as the sun sets. 

Life hasn’t been easy for many of us these past few years. I thought this year, it would be easier, brighter, safer. Didn’t you?

Red light. Green light. 

As the stoplight changes through the trees, I remember that childhood game. I loved playing it. 

Do you remember? Red light. Green light. 

When it was a green light, I ran around joyously. Laughing. Just feeling the breeze, the ground and freedom. When someone shouted, ‘Red light’, I stopped still. Feeling my feet on the ground. Holding my breath. Waiting. Wondering. Still. Eagerly waiting for the change, the chance to go. 

This last year has been a very long game of red light/green light for me.

Birthdays and funerals. 

This is my birthday month. It was also my Dad’s birthday month. In fact, the dates were just days apart.  That meant for most of my life, my birthday was a dual celebration. I’ll admit, as a kid, this was hard. No special party for me. No special cake for me. It was, most of the time, what my dad wanted. I just tagged along. 

My dad is gone now. I miss him always but especially this month on our shared birthday week. I do get to ‘do my own thing’ but I miss being able to share it with him, too. Ok, I don’t miss the pork roast but we did agree on chocolate cake with chocolate frosting. 

Let’s all make a wish. 

We are all still dealing with covid. Vaccinations. Masks on and off and on again. Waiting for everyone to get their vaccines. So we can all go out into the day and on with our lives. 

Since it’s my birthday month, I’d like to invite you to help me celebrate. 

Picture a cake or maybe just a slice with a candle on top. 

Wherever you are, light a candle. 

Look at it and let its shine brighten and lighten your heart just a little. 

Make a wish for yourself, your children, your family, your cat or dog or fish. 

Then, blow it out. 

Happy December to you!

Flow

I love the Oregon coast. I haven’t been there in over 4 years. In fact, I haven’t been anywhere, really in two years. I’ve walked my beloved park. Visited local farms and wineries. Gone grocery shopping. But I haven’t really taken a trip or a vacation. 

I know I’m not alone. Covid, the Delta variant have kept us all close to home, worried and fearful. Add a death in the family and I needed to retreat or find a retreat to soothe my soul, breathe in deeper and let out all the surrounding sorrow. 

Waves

Just watching the waves move in and out. Foaming and folding and glistening. I could feel a deep calm rolling over me. The sound of the surf quieted my mind. The push and pull inside me gave itself over to the ocean. 

Gazing at the sun moving downward towards the ocean brought up so many feelings. Hope. Sadness. Love. Fear. Connection. Loneliness. Support. And joy. Yes, as the sun slowly lowered,    I could feel my soul filling up with warmth. 

Play

Taking my sweet doggy to the beach is always fun. But because he was trained from puppyhood to be a guide dog, he was always on a leash. This is his comfort zone. Ok, I’ll admit, mine too. We found a small, inlet beach area with only a few people. And I decided, it was time to take the chance. 

He loved it! He splashed. Barked. Met another dog. He ran back and forth between my husband and I playing monkey in the middle. He got lots of treats each time he ran to us. I was so excited to see him sniff the waves and run. Joyously playing. 

Mud

Art making is my therapy. I need to put my hands in clay to clean the mud off my heart and soul. This last week, I made a decision. Even though my kitchen is still a mess, I needed to make a mess with clay to feel better. 

So I threw. Even if these bowls don’t turn out, it doesn’t matter. Even if they sit on my studio shelf and dry and crack and never get glazed, it’s ok. Because just the act of wedging, throwing, pulling and shaping the clay is an act of hope. An act of balancing then with now. Centering me. And allowing the future to flow. 

  

Where is your heart, America?

More innocent lives lost. I didn't want to face it, think about it, much less write about it. How in our country with all its beauty and freedoms could there be another devastating school shooting? How can we as a country let this keep happening? Because we all know, it's not just about guns and gun control. 

It's about fear and anger. It's about a total lack of leadership in all our branches of government. The legislative branch is too busy filling their own pockets with corporate bribes to do what they are voted into office to do: help everyone get health care, education and jobs. The judicial branch is too busy ruling in favor of gerrymandering and campaign contributions. The executive branch is in chaos because the wrong person is in the 'big house' due to a foreign interference.

Where, oh where is the true America?  I don't know. 

No one seems to know. And that, is the truly scary part. Because of that fear, I see people acting out in vicious ways. Threatening tweets coming from the top only lead to more viciousness and bullying all the way down to dear, sweet children dying.  

We're losing our way in this labyrinth of muck all around us. When even the Olympics is tainted by mean girl and guy commentators who care more about their outfits than the courage and strength and talent of the athletes, we've got a real problem.

Where is your heart America?

Our forefathers came here from a land where people were starving, beaten and jailed by the powerful English. They wanted freedom to speak, pray, live and love. They wrote our constitution to give us ALL the right to pursue happiness. 

Lately, I've been struggling to find it. I don't want to get mired down by the muck slung around by others. I don't want to shut down either. I've been avoiding my feelings because I don't want to take away from someone else's deep, deep loss by writing about how I feel about it. But I need to feel the deep sadness for those mothers and fathers and children who lost so much in Florida. We all do.

This loss hurts my heart. And my neighbors. And yours, too. 

And that's how I know our hearts aren't lost. I see it in the sweet face of my grandchild learning to count, my neighbors children walking their dogs and learning to drive, people stopping to talk on the corner and help others on an icy sidewalk.  

When I see those smiles, helping hands and friendly faces, I feel the strength and truth and roots of our hearts. It's my way, my small way to navigate through the muck and find my way back to love.