the blue muse

The weekend is over and I am tired, but in a happy way. Family events, a visit from my daughter, Father’s Day.

You forget, when you get so busy and crazy and all you do is do, how important it is to stop and just be. And to share that being with other people.
I saw my friend, a woman who is 83, for the first time in a few months. And
I felt guilty because I should make more of an effort to see her, far more often. I know this, and still, I let that time slip by once again.

My daughter and I went to the beach, just for a few hours, but it was wonderful. It was a very hot day, but perfect near the water. A cooling breeze, kids playing in the sand, we read our books and just relaxed, with nothing more to do than eat chips and salsa.

Now, this morning, the first day of Summer, I think about how this year has been a journey of new things for me, and of old things, reawakening. The biggest of all these things has been connections. Discovering, for the first time in my life really, that perhaps I am a people person. Maybe I always was and never knew it, or maybe I wasn’t and have grown enough to make it so. Or maybe it happens naturally, to everyone, as they age. I don’t have the answer as to why, I just know that I am enjoying it. I am reaching out, further and further, in ways I had never dreamed of.

And the writing, the constant writing, is a reawakening I hadn’t expected. A reawakening that now seems vital. It doesn’t feel like work, even when I labor for an hour over a paragraph. It feel like something I should be doing. It feels right, and it feels like I have always known that it was right, but for some reason never did anything about it. I am me, more than at any other time, when I write. Is that weird? It feels weird to say it.

And the pictures, too. Time goes by when I am working on an image, and I don’t even notice. I look up and I say, “Oh my goodness, where did that hour, or those two hours, go?” But it’s a good thing, to lose time in that way. Certainly it’s better than losing it to the vacuum cleaner.

Something is growing inside of me. Something that has been quiet for a long time. I didn’t notice how quiet it had been until it started making noise again. But it is here now, in my face, and this time, I’m paying attention.

I feel like it’s the right time. I feel like me. I feel strong, and centered.

There are days when I feel stressed and crazy and pulled in a dozen directions all at once. Those days aren’t going to go away anytime soon. I have, in fact, bitten off more than I can chew.

But even on those days, I feel a shift in my perspective.

I feel alive.

at my center, at my core
is a place that reminisces
about things that were
and things that weren’t
and things that might have been.

and the questions it asks
are hard and troubled and
happy and giddy and
someday I might
just answer them all,
in my heart
and in my head and
maybe even on paper.

my dreams are no different
than anyone else’s
yet still, they are mine.

my head is round and
filled with thoughts,
thoughts like yours.
my heart beats and beats,
just like yours,
but whispers secrets
that only we can share.

and my eyes,
they look out and see you,
but they cannot look out
and see me.

I am the first to admit that I am not a big fan of the water. Mainly because I can barely swim. Don’t get me wrong, I know how to swim, but I have always been afraid of the water, so I rarely put that knowledge into practice. I can swim from side to side in a pool as long as I know I can grasp the opposite wall after a few strokes, but that’s about it.

Whenever I am in, or on, water that is over my head, I feel uneasy. When it is a lake, or in this case, the St. Lawrence River, I always wonder how deep it is, how many souls are down there, what kind of creatures lurk in the depths. Boats are okay if they are big. I am not a fan of canoes, or rowboats, or even small motor boats. I have to wear a life jacket, even if no one else does.

And I love to be near the water, the sound of it, the sparkle, the soothing comfort. I am happy to play by water’s edge and let the big kids do all the swimming. I can sit on the beach with a book for hours and hours and let the world slip away, into the water, carried off by the waves.

Quite simply, I love to be outdoors. Growing and reaching for the sun. I love wide open spaces, big sky that makes you stand tall. I love paths in the woods lined with ferns and dappled sunlight. Nothing makes me feel as peaceful as being in the woods, all that green, all that quiet. I love to be in my garden, tending my babies, puttering, observing all the nuances of nature.

But every once in a while, it is good to broaden your horizons. To overcome your fear. To step into that chilly water and watch as life runs over your toes. It might be cold at first, but you get used to it. There are river rocks to be found, little treasures that measure the passage of time in their curves. Bugs that skim across the surface, dancing their way through life. Birds that swoop and swim and dive.

Sometimes we have to step out of the boots that we wear everyday
and jump into the puddles.

Big puddles, small puddles, it doesn’t really matter.

What matters is that you get your feet wet.

this post is part of you capture: water

Today I am over at Vision and Verb

with some thoughts on big questions,

tiny answers, and life.

hope is always there

just above your head

singing its song

and waiting patiently

for you to notice.

:::

I found this print recently at an antique store (I don’t know
who originally painted it) and I fell in love with it, and even though
I have no space on my walls for pictures of anything,
I bought her anyway and brought her home
and now she sits on a shelf in my studio
and I look at her, everyday, and all I see is hope.
I think I made the right choice, don’t you?

My world became very small this week, so small that I couldn’t see anything but the monitor that was in front of me 15 hours a day, three days in a row. Then the next day was a twelve-hour day, and that felt like a little vacation. That is the nature of my business, graphic design, everyone always needs everything yesterday. It is part of the deal. Deadlines loom. Rush jobs are accepted. I can never say no, there is always fear of losing income, or clients.

For the first few days (okay, all three), I did a lot of whining and complaining and moaning, literally, every time I stood up because I was so stiff from sitting in one position for so long. And yesterday wasn’t that much different, except that finally I felt my attitude shifting… ever so slightly, from grumpy and resentful to grateful and appreciative.

A couple of things happened along the way, things that made me realize how trifling my complaints were, how very tiny when placed within the frame of the big picture. I talked to a friend whose mother is dealing with cancer. Then I talked to another friend whose town, street, house, was flooding.

The other thing that happened was much smaller in scale, but it was still a revelation. I realized that I am not having enough fun, in fact, I am not having very much fun at all, and it is my own fault. I wrote about that in my last post, and I have been thinking about it ever since.

It’s so easy to lose perspective, so easy to lose sight of how precious life is, every day, every hour. And I work hard at not forgetting, I consciously try to live in the moment, but some days, I just plain forget. This whole week got away from me. I didn’t enjoy any of it, I sat there and did the work that had to be done and I pouted and I groused and there was a lot of woe is me floating around above my head.

What a waste of time, for me to think like that, act like that, feel like that. I am here. The sun is shining, or it is raining, or it is cold or hot or stormy, but I am here. I have food and shelter and family and friends and so many, many things to be grateful for.

I am also human, flawed and prone to tunnel vision. But there is a whole gigantic world out there, so much greater than the tiny space I see before me. A world filled with love and hope and friends and possibility. I couldn’t see that world this week — I was blinded by self-pity — but it was there.

Today, I am opening my eyes.

Embracing life, one crazy, crazy minute at a time.

This is chococat, he lives on my desk, and he always makes me smile.

When I first read the prompt for this week’s you capture challenge, I thought, “Well, I can’t do that one.” That was literally the first thing that popped into my mind. And then my second thought was, “well, that’s pretty sorry.”

Truth is, I think I’ve forgotten how to have fun. I work so many hours, running two businesses, and now two blogs, and taking care of a house and six cats and a dog and my family, there just isn’t much time left over for fun. But this prompt, and my response to it, made me realize how wrong that is, how I shouldn’t let this happen, that I need to do something about it.

And I don’t mean to make it seem like my life is all bad, certainly it is not. I get to work from home, and both my jobs are creative, and that in itself holds a certain amount of fun. And I look for ways to make myself laugh, everyday. I realized long ago how important that is.

But what I don’t do, what I haven’t been able to do in quite a while, is have down time, hours that can be wasted or spent being silly or relaxing or reading or knitting or gardening, all of the things that for me, are fun.

I am starting to wonder if I am a workaholic. Only most of the time it doesn’t feel like a choice, it seems like I have to do these things in order to make an income, pay the bills, survive. But still, I wonder.

I think it is time to reassess. Time to schedule in some fun, at the very least. Even if it means some of the things on my to-do list won’t get done. It is starting to feel vital. I have been burning the candle at both ends for far too long and I think I may be running out of wick.

I realize also, that I have to learn to say no. Mainly to myself. I need to step back when something new comes along that I want to try and consider whether or not I can fit it in. I don’t like having to do that, I am naturally curious and I love a challenge and there are so many things I want to learn. But really, so little time. My plate is full, so full, yet I don’t seem to know when to push myself away from the table.

So, what do you think? Any suggestions? How do you define fun? How do you find time to relax and enjoy yourself after all the must-dos and chores and requirements? I’d love to hear your ideas, your thoughts, your struggles.

It’s time to rediscover fun…

So our first show of the year was a trial and a success, and that is almost always the way it is. Doing outdoor shows is fun and exhausting and gives us a chance to meet new people, but the bottom line, truly, is that it all depends on the weather…

Which I guess is true of so many things in life, and so you learn to go with it, to live with it and be thankful, because it could always be worse. Saturday, the first day, started out rainy, but cleared up by the time the show opened and turned into a lovely, though breezy, day. Sunday was a complete washout. Our tent was soaked (although we were luckier than some, whose tents actually collapsed overnight), we were soaked, our feet were cold and wet and freezing, all of the earring cards got so wet that we will have to replace them all! (yikes) but still, we had fun, my sister and I, and sales on Saturday were good, and in the end, it was a fair show and we were glad to get the season started. The photo above shows our view from inside on Sunday, which is a sight you never want to see during a festival: an empty street.

Our thanks to everyone who stopped by, it is always so nice to see your faces. And it is always nice to meet new people — one of the things I love best about shows is how friendly and engaging the people are, customers that become friends, other artists that share stories, the camaraderie and helpfulness.

The thing I like the least about these shows is theft. We had a $75 bracelet stolen in the first two hours of the show, and that is always so disheartening. Last year we had something stolen at almost every show. So after it happened on Saturday, we spent a lot of time pondering how we could alter our booth set-up to make it harder for someone to grab something and walk away.

Theft is always bad and wrong, but when it is something you made with your own two hands and poured your heart into, it just feels like an extra hard slap in the face, it feels so personal. And when it is just you and this person in a 10×10 booth and you greet them with a friendly smile and a “How are you?” and then you look away for a second, and when you turn back, that person and a bracelet are gone, it feels so personal, so frustrating, so defeating.

But, we have learned to carry forward and learn from those experiences as well, and hopefully the changes we have in mind will make a difference.
And all of this, the weather and the theft, confirmed my commitment to try selling on the internet, to focus more on that, put more effort into that.

And I try to stay positive, I want to stay positive, I don’t like to complain or seem ungrateful. I love interacting with our customers, the feedback and the comments, it is so rewarding to have someone say, “Your work is beautiful.” And I am thankful and grateful for that.

Then on Sunday, just when the show was over and it was time to tear down, the sun came out and it was beautiful, and we all laughed and shook our heads, because no matter what we humans think or say or want to do, Mother Nature has her own ideas.

And now my feet are warm and dry, and it is Monday and a new week, and the sun is shining, and I wish you all a wonderful, wonderful day…

This weekend is our first show of the year, we will be at

Canal Days in Fairport, New York

for those of you from the area.

(if you go, stop by and say hello!)

So I leave you with a dreamy image and a dreamy quote
and wishes for a wonderful weekend…

::   ::   ::

Yesterday is but today’s memory,

tomorrow is today’s dream.

~Kahlil Gibran

I stand in one place, in this place I have lived
for more than twenty some years.

But my view of life, it keeps changing.

The ground shifts beneath me ever so slightly,
I see stars for the very first time.

I keep learning new things, singing new songs,
trying on all these new clothes.

I adorn the outside, the presence you see,
and let the inside run around naked.

I like it that way, these thoughts that run wild,
no constraints, no pauses, no censor.

I can sing to myself whenever I wish
with no one to say I’m off tune.

I can dance round the rooms in the ranch of my mind
and no one can peek in the windows.

I can shiver when darkness crosses my brain,
let it pass and go on its way.

My feet have these roots as I stand in this place.

But my mind it keeps wandering, free.