JEWELRY
My favorite Russell Wright teacup….
What I live in…
Crackle glass and lacy shadows…
The pan I coveted for a year … it holds a whole batch of pierogies…
Beautiful blue bokeh…
And we can’t ever forget the forget-me-nots…
See more thoughts on blue as part of my color series in poetry and collage here.
Pop over to Curious Girl and check out the side-bar blog roll to see more wonderful color week photos…
Illumination of a star…
Don’t you just love bleeding hearts? They make me sigh…
Shadows that sing songs to my mind…
Pretty in pink, a tulip that whispers of yesterday…
Ravishing in red, this one also past its prime, but still, somehow, lovely…
This week I am participating in color week over at Curious Girl. Pop over to her site and check out the side-bar blog roll to see more wonderful color week photos…
Since you’ve probably already guessed that I am really into color, this seemed like a fun challenge to undertake. There will be lots of photos, probably less writing, but I will be here, sharing, every day this week.
A while back I created my own color series in poetry and collage, you can find my red post here.
If you go there, be sure to check out the comment that my 72-year-old dad (Deetz) left me, it really made me smile, and then laugh. You probably have to know him to truly appreciate it, but my dad never says things like that. It gave me such a chuckle…
Anyway, happy Macro Monday, happy color week, tomorrow, blue…
It’s hard not to feel happy when the sun is shining, the birds are singing, and spring is in the air, offering a peek at summer just around the corner.
I’ve been thinking a lot about happiness lately, partly because I have been reading Gretchen Rubin’s The Happiness Project, and partly because of things I have learned and experienced through www.happinessinside.com, a site that my brother and his wife started last year.
And I have discovered, in the past six months or so that I’ve been thinking about happiness, that it actually is something you can learn to do, to be, it is something you can accomplish.
I used to think it was a state of mind, now I am understanding that is is a way of life. It is a choice.
Happiness doesn’t happen to you, it comes from within. It is something that you can acquire, through work and attitude and by opening yourself up to it. It isn’t an external force that you have no control over.
And I’m not talking about being a bubbly, happy go lucky with nary a care in the world kind of happiness. I’m talking about feeling content. With your life, with who you are, with how you behave. It’s about being true to yourself, living in the moment, appreciating the humanness of others. It’s about loving the fact that you’re alive.
For me, creativity plays a major role in my happiness, it always has. It’s something that makes me unhappy if I don’t do it. It’s something I can’t NOT do. The past few months, since starting my blogs, have been a flurry of creativity for me. Writing again, creating images, photography. It has all kept me insanely busy. But I am happy busy. I am doing things that I love. I am meeting wonderful people.
Happiness isn’t just sunshine and kittens and balloons and special occasions. Happiness is savoring my first cup of tea in the morning. A long run that leaves me feeling exhilarated. A bouquet of lilacs picked from my garden. Pizza night with my family every Friday. A hug from a friend, or my husband, or my son. A word of encouragement from someone I admire.
Simple, ordinary things. That I have the presence of mind to appreciate.
That’s what makes me happy.
So I am walking down this path, or running, whatever the case may be, and where exactly do I’m think I’m going?
I see side shoots, tributaries, distractions, possibilities: all waving at me, vying for my attention. Some of them get it, some, not so much. I end up traveling in circles. The earth is round, but still, you can only walk around it in a line.
I am blue and purple when I want to be golden, and this tree that towers over me is keeping me in shadow. I see edges of light, this bokeh in my vision, dappled spots of happiness that flit in and about as the breeze moves through these branches, this forest, my world.
I have been here before, in this spot where I stand, gazing out at the edge of horizon. I have not taken root but returned of my own volition.
I am here. The next step matters. The path, imperative. Decisions, decisions…
I travel alone, or in the company of friends, and either way, my feet get tired. My knees ache, these blisters form. I look up at the moon because I hear her, whispering my name. She only ever whispers though, when what I crave is a scream. At least that is what I think I crave, I might be surprised if her voice went howling through the sky, and run for cover. I might cower.
And the sun, yes, it warms me, fills my heart with hope and vision. But it sets every day and I wonder what I saw. What I really, really saw. Just out of the corner of my eye there is movement. Peripheral. The shadow of my horizon come forth to take my hand.
The gesture is extended. But I am frozen, frozen in this sea
of purple, blue and green when what I really want
is to be golden.
Life tries to beat you down, sometimes, doesn’t it?
A sudden downpour, high winds, maybe even a little hail.
And we have no choice, at the time, but to stand there
and take it. But afterwards, you get to make choices.
You can lay there, bent and broken, or decide to show life
a thing or two. You can pick yourself up, brush yourself off,
and choose to be resilient, flexible, strong.
To stand tall, and walk down the path that you have chosen,
even if you have a little limp for a while. Even if your muscles ache and your brain is tired and your heart is a little broken.
And after all that, what a surprise to find that still,
you blossom.
::
::
When I was sixteen and my first boyfriend broke my heart, my mom told me there were more fish in the sea, and I didn’t believe her.
When I was ten and my mom told me to eat my vegetables because they were good for me, I might have believed her, but I still wouldn’t eat my cauliflower.
When I was seven and I forgot to change my underwear one morning, my mom brought a clean pair to my classroom, in a paper bag. And I couldn’t believe she did that.
When I was twenty four and about to give birth to my son, my mom told me all kinds of things about being a mother, what it would mean, how difficult it is, how fascinating and amazing and life altering and wonderful it would be. I listened, I believed, but I could not comprehend.
And now my son is twenty-four and I look at him and I can’t believe I had him when I was that same age, he seems so very young.
And when he was sixteen and a girl broke his heart, I told him the same thing, about all those fish, and he didn’t believe me, either.
And he never ate his vegetables when he was a kid. But now he likes more vegetables than I do.
And when he was seven, I made him eat tofu because I was a vegetarian. And he still can’t believe I did that.
And, today, I realize that my mom was right, about all of it. It is hard and life-altering and wonderful and amazing and fascinating and sometimes heart-breaking, but mostly heart-expanding. And it isn’t a job, being a mother. It’s who you are.
And when someone tells you to cherish the moments you have with your children when they are little, to worry less about the housework and the errands, and more about enjoying those wonderful, beautiful, oh so precious moments because they grow up so very fast…
Believe it.
It is Friday and my mind is wandering, wondering where another week went, how I got here so fast, and yes, I got a lot done, but there is still more to do.
My garden needs attention, lots of it, I haven’t finished spring cleaning my house, and obviously, haven’t even started spring cleaning my mind.
I am making jewelry, working hard, our first show is only one month away. I can’t believe that I am there already, when I thought I had so much time.
Mother’s Day is this weekend and that always gives us so much to think about, how much we love our kids, how much we love our mothers, how much of our lives revolves around that word.
I am looking forward to Flying Lessons with Kelly Rae Roberts. Not the in an airplane kind, the in your heart and soul kind. Kelly’s was one of the first blogs I ever came across, and I love her work, her energy, her sense of community. If you’ve never been, you should wander there, sometime.
I am gazing out my window and seeing the whole world suddenly green, and how that, and sunshine, changes everything.
I am loving bare feet on hardwood floors, cool in the morning.
I am letting my mind wander where it will, for just a few moments before I tackle the to-do list of today.
I am loving that these random thoughts, these wandering paths, somehow all add up and make sense, at least to me.
Where are you going to wander to, today? This weekend?
I hope it’s somewhere fun…
For me, the best part of spring is that I can start running on my trail again. In the winter, it gets covered over in snow, and then I am forced to run on the road, but as soon as everything melts, I am back on my trail, happy, surrounded by green and birds and shadows of leaves instead of shadows of branches, and chipmunks run across my path and I run and I run and sweat out all my frustration, all my troubles, all my winter angst, until I feel sunny again on the inside.
And when my knees hurt, I am reminded of that saying “no pain, no gain,” and how it is somewhat inaccurate. Some kinds of pain require you to stop, because if you ignore them, there will never be any gain, there will just be more pain. And the key, the key, is to know how to tell which kind of pain it is that you are feeling. The kind that will pass through and become gain, or the kind that will just get worse and cause more pain.
And I run and I run and I sweat out what might have been tears, let them flow through the river that is my body rather than down the forest of my face. And when I am done, when I have run through to the other side, things look better, greener, clearer.
Yes, spring is surely daffodils and tulips, lilacs and bleeding hearts. But for me, just now, spring is motion, challenge, that one step at a time that takes me just a little closer to peace.
I spend a lot of my time in one room. I work in this room, I create in this room. I surf the net in this room. It’s not a large room, it’s actually quite small. My studio, this room, is always somewhat cluttered. I am a messy desk kind of person, I like to spread things out so I can see them. But it’s a good kind of mess, the mess that happens when you are creating.
Last year I remodeled my studio to make it a more pleasant place to spend time in. I bought lots of cupboards because I never seemed to have enough storage. I bought a new rug to keep my toes warm in winter. I finally had the Matisse print that I call “my blue muse” framed, and now it is the first thing you see when you walk in the door. And I love my room, these four walls that are my walls, my creativity container, if you will.
I’m glad I have this space, with these walls that contain my thoughts and musings, even as they let them soar. I love that I can get out of bed, head to the kitchen for a cup of tea, and be in my studio, working, five minutes after I wake up. I love that my garden sits just outside the window. I love that this is the only room in the house that’s painted yellow.
I don’t feel confined by these four walls, I feel enlivened. They are my blank canvas, my empty cup, these unstrung jewels.
Since I work at home, of course I need a space like this, it is a requirement.
But I know that I would want a space like this no matter what.
A place of one’s own.
A place to let me, out.
The trees are in bloom, and it is a warm, wonderful Spring day!
I am heading out to play in the garden and listen to the mockingbird,
but first I wanted to announce the winners of the Poetry Book Giveaway.
And the winners are:
who will receive Living is What I Wanted by David Ignatow and
who will receive Selected Poems of Anne Sexton
Congratulations to you both, I will send you an email to get your info
so I can mail your books out to you.
Thanks to everyone who played along, it was so much fun, and I loved stopping by everyone else’s place to see what books they were giving away.
I found some wonderful new poets to read.
::
And don’t forget, there are still a few days left to place your Mother’s Day order and get them in time for the big day!
Just leave a note with the code 15MOTHERS at check out and
I will refund your discount through paypal. Happy Shopping!
Twitter
RSS
Facebook
