A Picture Book Life

I've got MORE sunshine...

2012-03-16T20:04:00.002+01:00

"I've Got Sunshine," mixed-media on canvas. (Acrylic, watercolor and graphite with
hand-painted papers, decorative papers, and vintage notebook paper, all hand-cut and assembled.)

I drew the clouds and cut them from watercolor paper I had stained
with coffee, tea and paint and etched with a needle and craft knife while still wet.

The German phrases translate, "It is cloudy" and "You are my sunshine."

The final result is quirky, imperfect and deliciously grungy--
with a radiant, childlike joy that shines more brightly, I think, because of the mess!

I woke up this morning in a panic because I thought I had overslept. The sun was so bright--brighter than it's been in months! But no, it was only 6:45; an early start to a gloriously beautiful day in Hamburg. We had NINE FULL HOURS of sunshine today! This makes me happy, makes me marvel (momentarily) that I could ever feel unhappy about anything!

Now that dusk has fallen, it's gloomily overcast and chilly again. Perhaps it's best, for now the mood better matches the sentiment of this mixed-media piece that I finished yesterday. See work-in-progress photos here. This is the second piece in a series--I'm starting work on the third tonight! See the first piece in the series here.

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Since I was up early enough that the girls were still sleeping, I took a few minutes for some reading in my favorite devotional, Streams in the Desert, by L.B. Cowman. And guess what? Another cloud poem found me--another one (like the one I posted last week) about the Life that often comes to us, disguised as a cloud of suffering--it was such timely encouragement and goes so well with this painting that I just had to share it:

"Have you a cloud?

It is Jehovah's triumph car: in this

He's riding to you, o'er the wide abyss

It is the robe in which He wraps His form;

For He does dress Him with the flashing storm.

It is the veil in which He hides the light

Of His fair face, too dazzling for your sight.

God's coming in that cloud."

"God still has His secrets - hidden from 'the wise and learned' Luke 10:21). Do not fear these unknown things, but be content to accept the things you cannot understand and to wait patiently. In due time He will reveal the treasures of the unknown to you - the riches of the glory of the mystery. Recognize that the mystery is simply the veil covering God's face.

Do not be afraid to enter the cloud descending on your life, for God is in it. And the other side is radiant with His glory. 'Do not be surprised at the painful trial you are suffering, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice that you participate in the suffering of Christ' (1 Peter 4:12-13). When you feel the most forsaken and lonely, God is near. He is in the darkest cloud. Forge ahead into the darkness without flinching, knowing that under the shelter of the cloud, God is waiting for you."

(I couldn't remember what today's date was this morning, so this is actually an excerpt from the March 14 reading, page 113 of the updated version of Streams in the Desert.)

Sometimes just the right words of encouragement come at just the right time, don't they?

Praying you find the encouragement you need this weekend too,

Linking up with Studio JRU, Paint Party

Monday's Measure: I've got sunshine...

2012-03-12T21:55:00.001+01:00

The sun's been trying to peek through Hamburg's pre-spring gloom, generously washing my worktable in puddles of dappled light for a few minutes each day. I'm feeling inspired and working on the second in my new series of watercolor and mixed-media collage canvases...I'll have more to show you on Friday!

Wishing you a "good measure" of joy on this Monday--"pressed down, shaken together and running over"...enough to "pour" into the "lap" of your entire week! (Luke 6:38)

Linking with Much Love Mondays and Multitudes on Mondays

Let it Pour

2012-03-09T20:57:00.001+01:00

"Let it Pour," March 2012--mixed media collage
(vintage and decorative paper, watercolor, acrylic and graphite on canvas)

I am the daughter of Earth and Water,

And the nursling of the Sky;

I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores;

I change, but I cannot die.

For after the rain when with never a stain

The pavilion of Heaven is bare,

And the winds and sunbeams with their convex gleams

Build up the blue dome of air,

I silently laugh at my own *cenotaph,*

And out of the caverns of rain,

Like a child from the womb, like a ghost from the tomb,

I arise and unbuild it again.

--from "The Cloud"

by Percy Bysshe Shelley

In college I majored in Literature; the Romantic Poets were always my favorites. I found this Shelley poem today (read all 6 stanzas here) and it reminded me of how much I used to love doing my homework (I have always been a "nerd" in that way)--reading and contemplating poems like this one, picking them apart and trying to make sense of it all.

A *cenotaph* is a monument to honor the dead, which has been built somewhere other than where the body is actually buried. It comes from the Greek word "kenotaphion" which is a combination of "kenos" (empty) + "taphos" tomb. In the final stanza of this poem the cloud represents resurrection--and the "dome" of the blue sky is only a memorial, an empty monument, one built in vain because the storms will always raise back to life, will keep coming back to disrupt the calm. But the storms of life are connected to what? To rebirth, to resurrection. WOW!

I created this piece last week as I was coming out of a "low" that lasted the whole month of February. Must be because spring is coming!!! Somehow the dreary little rainclouds began to symbolize the hope that can come even from the storms of life (and maybe especially from those storms).

We build our shrines to happiness and perfection, trying to capture the meaning of life in our successful accomplishments, in our well-behaved families, in our spotless homes and stylish clothes. All of these things are good--like a sunny day without a cloud in the sky. But we tend to want to hide our flaws when they crop up like storm-clouds (I know I do!), pretend that clear skies are all that exist, or at least are all that should exist! When the truth is that it's the dreary fog and the muddy rain that nourish us--if we let them, the hard times in life build the character and wisdom we need to handle the good times with grace and to cherish them for all they are worth.

So I say, Let it Pour.

Let's open our hearts to the "resurrection" of the cloud--learn from our mistakes, take heart even in our disappointments, lean on Strong Arms when our hearts are torn in two--and rise up to soak in as much Sun as we can while we get ready for the next challenge. Bring it on!

A Beautiful weekend to you--blue skies or gray.

Linking up with Studio JRU, Paint Party (Happy Birthday, PPF!!!)

MONDAY'S MEASURE: a Creative Weekend

2012-03-05T13:00:00.001+01:00

My last post was a little "WAAH-waah." I've been down in the dumps and felt like I needed to be honest about it. Thanks for bearing with me and leaving such encouraging comments! I'm so thankful for all of you friends who visit this space.

BUT I'm feeling much better. Ecstatic, actually. I mean, just look at that worktable!!! Isn't it delicious? Over the past year in the life of this blog, I've often used Mondays as a day to focus on being grateful. I haven't been very consistent, but I'd like to try again and post a weekly "Monday's Measure"--to give thanks, start the week on a positive note and pray that the rest of the week will "measure up."

"Give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap. For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you" (Luke 6:38 NIV).

I spent almost the entire weekend painting and drawing and cutting and pasting--and I almost have a finished piece! (Check back on Friday for another peek!) I created this collage while thinking about how hope can thrive even during the storms of life. Which is something I'm praying for the Midwest and the South right now after the terrible tornado destruction of the weekend.

"I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God's love. Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither our fears for today nor our worries about tomorrow--not even the powers of hell can separate us from God's love" (Romans 8:38 NLT).

Wishing you an overflowing measure of Love and Thanks this Monday!

Where I've been lately...

2012-03-02T20:52:00.001+01:00

a new series of watercolor and mixed-media collage...in progress!

Here's the ~~short~~ medium-length version of where I've been lately:

1. Enjoying my precious little daughters more than ever. Three-year-old Eowyn is talking up a storm and sweeter and smarter than I could have dreamed. Two-year-old Penelope is finding her words too and startles me every day with how sharp she is. Now she can say "I love you" as clear as day, and she says it often.

2. Other than being an enamored Mama....I've been sick and sad, homesick and tired. Directionless. Completely at the end of my rope. Not writing or painting. Wishing desperately that I felt inspired to write or to paint, and therefore feeling MORE depressed because I didn't want to write or paint.

3. Going gluten free! (It's been one full month now.) Starting to feel a *little* better. Lots of doctor appointments to figure out what's really causing the fatigue and pain. Feeling encouraged that the gluten-free diet is helping a bit and hoping that it will only get better from here after determining what additional nutritional support I need!

4. Finally sitting down to face my spiritual upheaval, creative fears and frustration with a simple HB pencil and tears streaming down my face. When the angry storm clouds began to appear on the grungy piece of paper gouged with a blade and stained with watercolor and coffee . . . BOOM. Inspiration hit like lightning (pun intended, heehee). The make-my-heart-beat-faster kind of inspiration. The desperate, frantic, pounce-on-my-amazing-husband-as-soon-as-he-turns-the-key-in-the-lock-and-beg-him-to-go-it-solo-with-the-kids-tonight-so-that-I-can-finally-do-some-blogging-and-artwork kind of inspiration!

5. An epiphany! And my JOY is returning. . . I gave my dreams to the Father, and it seems that maybe He's giving them back to me in small doses so that I can actually handle them. He helped me to realize that I need to paint and I need to blog, just as much as I need to rest. I need the encouragement of kindred creative spirits who are just a click away. Really, He is ALL I need, but creativity is a special gift He's given me to help me connect with Him and with others. I was about to give up my paints for Lent like I did last year, but when I prayed the answer was to give up TV (which I've been watching waaay too much of, in my depressed and aching state. . . using the excuse, "I'm not just watching TV, I'm practicing my German!" which is actually true btw :)) instead. Because this year the Lord wants me to make more time to create and to make connections through this little blog. Because somehow, (it's because it's HIS gift) I can trust Him more and honor Him better with my thoughts and attitudes when my fingers are busy creating, covered in color and flying over the keyboard.

How have you been? :) I've missed this space and visiting your spaces. I'm going to try and catch up a little at a time.

- - - - - - -

And now for a little bit more, just in case you've missed my reflective, rambling posts and want the longer version of the story ;)):

It started out that I simply didn't feel well. That voice in my spirit was telling me to drop everything and rest. And to trust. Because who wants to drop everything they've been working on so intensely, and do nothing, let it all begin to gather dust? Nobody! But I really couldn't argue: my eye was twitching like crazy every time I looked at the computer screen, I started to get migraines every other day, and my wrists hurt too much to type or even to draw. There was no question that something needed to change.

I spent the last month feeling quite ill and extremely sad and (of course) homesick. February is usually my favorite month! And although I could whine about how disappointing and depressing my "favorite" month was this year...I'm not going to (at least, not any more than I already have ;)).

Because I know there's a reason for everything.

I've been doubting this truth lately. Or, maybe it's more accurate to say that I've been too tired to care that there's a reason for everything and I've been throwing myself a pity party because all I really want to do is run away. I've even said out loud, "I know that I am in the exact place where God wants me, but what if I don't care anymore?!"

And you know what? He would still love me if I did run away. He would still take care of me. He would use any and every situation (even my bad choices) to teach me more about Him and to accomplish His purposes in my life. But He challenges me to go deeper: to persevere in trusting Him through the hard stuff, to grow in strength of character and to know Him more. To understand that His purposes are unfathomable and the depth of His peace is indescribable--even when on the surface I seem to be falling apart. To be a (humbled) example of His strength and power because "I am hard pressed on every side by troubles, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair" (2 Corinthians 4:8). Jesus doesn't promise only to give me strength. He promises to BE my strength: ". . . but he answered, 'My grace is enough for you; my great strength is revealed in weakness.' Gladly, then, will I boast of my weakness that the strength of Christ may be mine" (2 Corinthians 12:9). Becoming desperate enough to really live in that promise is a much more worthy pursuit than my momentary happiness.

So, I will press on. For really, there is no where to go except forward, right? And because God is GOOD; He is good ALL THE TIME.

2 Birthdays, a Blog Anniversary, a Trip to Italy & a Funeral

2012-02-06T22:08:00.001+01:00

Good news first: can you guess what amazing gift I received for my birthday? Tobi has been working on this mysterious surprise for a month--collecting contributions from sweet family and friends to make this dream possible for me--my first Squam Art Retreat, and in Italy!!! Of course I'm absolutely thrilled and HUMBLED to get this opportunity. But even more than that, my heart is bursting with love and thanks for the precious ones who encourage and support me, believing in my dreams just as much (and maybe even more) than I do!

This is almost the best birthday present ever...but only almost. Because two years ago a nutmeg-blonde, button-nose, blue-eyed little girl named Penelope rushed into my life a week early--maybe just because she wanted to share this special day with me! She already lives to make us laugh--which is my word of the year, of course--so she is my special gift on our birthday and on every other day of the year.

It's funny that I missed blogging about this on my actual birthday--February 2 (Groundhog's Day!)--which also happens to be this blog's first birthday. Happy Birthday, A Picturebook Life!!! You can read my first, sweet little blog post here.

So, two birthdays, plus a blog anniversary, plus news of an amazing, upcoming trip to Italy for a magical art retreat...this is prime blogging material, people! Isn't it though? Then maybe you're wondering why it's taken me three days to post about it...I've been wondering about that myself. Why do I feel so blocked on the blog-front at the very time words should be flowing like the waters of the Adriatic Sea? I know, I did put myself on a little blog-rest again, but I'm still trying to post once a week. I should be able to find plenty to say, in just one post a week, right???

Perhaps, like our friend the groundhog, it's because I've been "hibernating." But this blog is what finally pulled me out of my hole a year ago, became a "home" for me when I was in such an "in-between" place...helped me to find home in my heart and in all the little joys everywhere I look. This blog is the place where I found unexpected friendships during some of the loneliest days of my life. This blog is what has finally convinced me that I AM an artist and that I can make this work my life's work.

It's the season of hibernation, anyway. It's ok. Nature does it; I can do it too. And spring is on the way. Don't worry; I haven't been scared by my own shadow--this blog is still a very special place to me, still a big part of my feeling of "home." I'm just resting up and getting healthy again (by going gluten-free, btw) in preparation for the amazing-ness that stretches out before me: the 31st year (and maybe the best one yet) of my life!

P.S. That new painting Sarah Ahearn Bellemare posted on her blog on the same day as my birthday--guess why I linked it up there? She's teaching at SqamItalia in October! Oh lucky, HUMBLED and overjoyed little ME!!!

P.P.S. Ok, here comes the bad news. Hope it doesn't seem insensitive, the way I'm lumping all this news--the good and bad--together in one post. But that's life--taking the good with the bad, the bad with the good. The other reason I linked this painting? Because it resonates with the way I feel right now--I've managed to squeeze in a little celebration this week, for my birthday and Penny's, but it's been a bit half-hearted: my cousin Ross was killed last Tuesday in a terrible oil field accident. Since the moment I found out, I can't get Ross and his bright, contagious smile out of my head--it like I can feel his smile, the same way I feel my mom's smile and know that she's not really that far away, overjoyed in the presence of our Lord Jesus. Still, I'm heartbroken for his mom, dad and brothers, and the rest of our family. Ross was 28 years old. The funeral is tomorrow, and of course, I am an ocean away. If you think of it, could you say a prayer for our family? Thank you.

Tangerine SHOUTS!

2012-01-29T00:10:00.002+01:00

I did get a bit of painting done this week...even if it was just a few bright, happy little "doodles" with watercolor pencil! Just playing around with January's Creative Color Challenge of "tangerine" and making some fun papers that I'm going to cut up to use in another collage like this one.

Did you know that I used to be quite shy? Sometimes I think that this is why I've always painted with such vibrant colors--it's one way to SHOUT! I think that's what orange does. This week I shared a little chapter in my story--about when I used to be a high-school English teacher--on the "Do What you Love" blog! I'm not nearly as shy now...but I think I still MUCH prefer expressing myself in splashed color and written words ;).

STORYTELLERS (Art with Heart): Sarah Ogren

2012-01-22T00:00:00.006+01:00

Mixed media artist Sarah Ogren of Crystal Lake, Illinois, makes art that invites us on a whimsical journey into the subconscious mind. Using bits of decorative and antique paper, vintage images, plus her own acrylic paintings, watercolors, ink drawings, and handmade prints, Sarah creates fanciful dreamscapes where the secret, hidden part of self easily converses with the frank and exuberant child-of-the-heart.

"Sweet Entanglement"

Sarah discovered collage six years ago as she attempted to pick up the pieces and reassemble a creative life--after the interruption of seven years worth of physical disability and pain. Previously a painter, she struggled with pain in the tendons of both of her hands. "It was very painful and left me unable to create during those years...When my hands started to get better, I began to experiment with collage. I found collage to be easiest on me physically and I quite enjoyed it."

"Another Bird Brain"

Piecing together the puzzle--thoughts and dreams, snatches of memory, hopes for personal growth--the other reason Sarah favors collage is because it's the perfect medium for an artist with a background in psychology and Masters Degree in Professional Counseling. "I have always been amazed at how complex and often surprising a person’s inner life is," she says. Sarah communicates this idea of a "secret life within each person" by portraying human forms with animal- and tree-heads.

"Rooted"

"Collage for me is representative of the layers of human experience. The animal heads are a kind of mask, a way of presenting to the world what we want others to see and not having to reveal our true selves," Sarah says. "People's behavior, idiosyncrasies, and our struggles are always fascinating to me. I enjoy highlighting these points because I love showing how similar we all are. We all feel pain, love, disappointment, envy, happiness, etc. It's these things that connect us and make us human and I think it is these points of vulnerability and human emotion that help people to relate to my work."

"You Should Never Allow a Bird to Do Your Hair"

The shared vulnerability and pain of the human experience shows up in Sarah's work with hints of the dark and surreal. But any discomfort is always tempered with a delightful sense of humor, soft colors, and sweet furry or feathered creatures. "I do enjoy keeping even difficult subjects light-hearted and fun," Sarah says, "because I don't think most things in life should be taken that seriously and we should all be able to laugh at ourselves a little."

"I find it intriguing that we all try to hide our weaknesses, but that our weaknesses are what make us human and make us similar and revealing them is what helps to bring us closer to one another." Sarah is discovering that plumbing the depths of self and unraveling the mysteries of the subconscious are one thing; sharing those mysteries and all of one's self with another is something else entirely: "I have over the past couple of years begun dating and really putting myself out there. This has proven to be fun and a struggle at times, but definitely rich in subject matter for my art!"

"Maybe we could start over together"

Pieces such as "Maybe we could start over together" and "I have so much fun with you" are some of Sarah's creations that are based on her dating experiences.

"I have so much fun with you"

"Trying to find my place"

Sarah most often uses rabbits to represent herself in her work, but in her most recent piece, "Trying to find my place," she has become a crow. She explains on her blog:

"For me my home as always been a place where I felt safe. Where I could fully be myself without fear of judgment. The image of the house in this piece is quite literally my heart. I am quite the believer that each of us is the sole protector of our hearts. We must choose carefully who we share our hearts with; not everyone is ready for what we have to share or appreciative of it's gift.

Now usually I use a rabbit as my figures or the rabbit somehow makes an appearance in my work. Many times the rabbit is myself or a small part of my personality, but it is always the light-hearted version. The idea behind this piece required a tougher animal though. In this piece I have used a crow as the figure. Crows are such loud birds; squawking at the slightest sign of danger. They are in many ways nature's alarm system. What a great animal to help protect such a valuable piece of property. When the crow doesn't squawk, I will know I have found my place to rest."

"Hummingbird relocation project"

Sarah illustrates such beautiful metaphors in such a fresh and lively style! And one of her favorite things about art is that everyone can relate to these metaphors in their own way, based on their own life experiences: "I may have created a certain piece based upon a specific event in my life, but I love it when someone can find their story somewhere in there too."

I most certainly connect with Sarah's work, and I have found my story here too--especially in my favorite, "Hummingbird Relocation Project": finding the comfort of home wherever you are by finding a comfortable place within yourself and safety within the heart of others. I hope your "crow" soon ceases to squawk, Sarah, and you find someone with whom you can share your heart, someone who will treasure and protect it even more than you can by yourself! Thank you for your beautiful art, and thank you for sharing your story--and a piece of your heart--with "Storytellers!"

Sarah makes beautiful sculpture and jewelry too! You can find it all here in her Etsy Shop, and keep up-to-date with new works on her blog: www.SarahOgren.blogspot.com.

- - -

Speaking of physical struggles that limit the creative life...I'm having some trouble of my own with painful wrists and hands, plus a seriously annoying, constant twitch in my left eye that has been going on since before Christmas! Grrr! I read an eye doctor's advice online about the twitching eye: "A twitching eye is a sure sign that you need to slow down and get some rest." Hmmm...think there might be some good advice there? So, I've decided to cut back my computer time, hoping this will clear up these issues. I'll be aiming for just one post per week--a Studio Sneak Peak on Fridays--but will be posting "Storytellers" only now and then and putting the link-party on hold indefinitely. No big worries, but I'd be grateful for your thoughts and prayers! :)

Winged Hopes for the Heart in 2012!

2012-01-20T22:58:00.001+01:00

1. To LEAP! with courage and joy--welcome new opportunities without even an inkling of fear.
2. To LEARN from the times I leap and then fall on my face--and still trust enough to be happy that I took the risk in the first place and to be ready to leap again at the next opportunity.
3. To LAUGH...
4. LAUGH...
5. and LAUGH some more...truly to open my heart to lighthearted joy--both in the leaping and in the learning. (Not sure if the little "laugh" butterflies will stay or if I need to come up with something else. What do you think?)

Laugh is my word for this "Leap" year--I had a feeling it was being revealed as such when I first started sketching this illustration. I got to work finishing the wings one night this week when I was feeling a little down, and I knew I needed some encouragement--I wanted to be sure that I really was hearing this Word. Without revealing anything I was thinking, I asked Tobias to read me a Psalm, and this is the one he "randomly" opened up to and read:

"On your feet now--applaud God!

Bring a gift of laughter,

sing yourselves into his presence...

For God is sheer beauty,

all-generous in love,

loyal always and ever"

(Psalm 100:1,5 The Message).

He wants my heart--and yours, friend--to SOAR!

***Linking with Studio Sneak Peek and Paint Party!

STORYTELLERS: Parenting Like Painting

2012-01-15T22:18:00.003+01:00

I wrote on Friday about digging in deeper as a parent, taking joy in the challenges--the messes--and growing in the rich soil of those trenches. This line of thinking was partly inspired by an encouraging note from a good friend of mine. A couple of months ago, I was confiding to her how overwhelmed I was feeling, that sometimes it seemed I was failing as a mother and wife. She has three kids close in age to my two girls, but she took the time to share this with me--a beautiful and inspired idea she had about approaching parenting in the same way I approach the process of making art.

These words have been sinking into my soul, and even manifesting in a physical way lately as my daughters are becoming little artists--they seem to be just as addicted as I am to paper and pens and paint--and as I let go a little and begin truly to take joy in the messes of raising children:

"Imagine that Eowyn and Penny are your watercolors and you alone have the delightful privilege of splashing their beauty across a crisp piece of paper--across another new day.

"Though you may have to apply some wax, here and there, to guide them to where it is safe to go, to give boundaries to their vibrancy, you are skilled in art and know how to stroke them into the place where they are free to find shape and blend and contrast together--to become who God has made them to be.

"As any good artist knows, it is okay to sometimes get messy, to get down and into your painting, to play with, to enjoy the touch of your colors. The fact that watercolors and wax and crisp heavy paper requires preparation and clean up doesn't anger you or make you sigh--it is just another part of the process, a simple reality of life.

"Sometimes a painting can become overworked--it is necessary to stop and find a new perspective. Perhaps inquire after another artist, or the Artist, for wisdom for how to continue on. His solution may be found only after some painful scraping away of layers--of emotions and old ways--but the end result, the final painting, is worth the energy and pain.

You are in the process of transforming the individual beauty of each color--of each daughter--into a larger beauty of a cohesive, complete painting--'A Schilling Life.'" --K.G.L.

Thank you, my friend, for these beautiful words of wisdom! And thank you for allowing me to share them here. This is a great way to look at parenting and all sorts of other relationships too. I have a feeling that this will resonate with lots of creative people who pour themselves into their family and friends!

Link up and share a story of your own!
The Storyteller Challenge is:

"Making Messes"

Enjoying the freedom of a child...letting go and getting dirty...digging deep into the trenches where character is built.

Share a new post or an old one--a fictional story or one from your life. Something that tells the story in any medium--words, photos, arts, crafts...whatever creative outlet you can come up with! (Find the "about" page here.)

Once you link up,
1. Leave a comment to say hello!
2. Please take 15 minutes to read and support a few of the other storytellers linking up before you.
3. Kindly grab one of the Storytellers button on my right sidebar or link back in your post!

Happy Storytelling!

Studio Sneak Peek: Dig Deeper

2012-01-13T23:59:00.001+01:00

I spent this week preparing for my oldest daughter to turn three today. I guess you could say that I spent this week "spoiling" her, but that's not really the right word. Giving her a bit more responsibility, allowing her to explore more freely, make some messes--like helping me "paint" with tea, coffee and coffee grounds--to show her that I know she's not a baby anymore!

We also dug in a little deeper with some discipline issues, dealt with some things that we'd been putting off simply because it's easier to pick *not* fighting the battles. And you know what? The wrestling was a beautiful thing. Not easy, but beautiful--because I love her and I know that a person develops character in facing the hard stuff. And in helping her to reflect on her heart and attitude, I'm really reflecting on mine too.

With every challenge--every time the soul sinks into the mud pit of realizing hard truths--there is an opportunity to absorb the richness of that deep soil. To take a "mud bath," if you will. Cake it on with abandon and then scrape it away to discover a subtle and most beautiful tint lingers--a life stained not with "ugly," but colored by the grace that is ever-present in life's grime. It's the joy of believing--of knowing--that the darkest soil is the most nourishing. That the things we fear will harm us, and often do hurt us and break our hearts, God will use for good (Genesis 50:20).

My personality leans toward the "flight" option when adrenaline is pumping and I'm faced with the choice to "fight" or to run away. I'd just rather not deal with things. I'll pretend things are fine even when I'm writhing on the inside, just to maintain the delicate balance and not risk hurting someone's feelings. Marriage has helped me to face this fact about myself and to practice "fighting"--really wrestling to work things out--with lots of love, of course! Parenthood is calling me to crawl deeper into the trenches because there simply isn't the option of running away from the people whose hearts beat under mine for nine months--and still do, in some ways.

This is what I'm learning: the building of a family--and a home--is the intertwining of hearts; wrapping yourself closer even at times when you'd rather gasp for fresh air and independence. Family is giving up yourself for other people on a daily basis, finding yourself in their eyes, even as the world warns you not to "lose yourself."

Made my coffee- and tea-stained paper to use as a background for my "Home in the Heart-Tree" illustration...but having trouble with lighting this week and couldn't capture the paper on camera very well. Since I had already splashed in a little blue watercolor, I played with hues and textures in Photoshop and came up with some pretty blues. What do you think?

Linking with Studio JRU and Paint Party. Have a happy weekend!

Love,

Sadee

STORYTELLERS: The familiar becomes unfamiliar again, a.k.a. Inspired by...what? Yes. The Laundry.

2012-01-10T23:32:00.004+01:00

"Our perennial spiritual and psychological task

is to look at things familiar

until they become unfamiliar again."

--from Orthodoxy, by G.K. Chesterton

As sad as it may sound, I think the story of my Year 2011 was largely written around a struggle with the laundry. And as sad as it may sound, this is a beautiful thing--stay with me here, and you'll see why. (And please feel welcome to link up at the end--to tell your own story of being inspired by something unusual!)

Living in a new country is, of course, an adventure with many challenges--learning the language and the customs, reading the street signs, understanding the bus numbers and train schedules, learning which grocery stores carry all your essential, "familiar" items, figuring out where you might be able to meet like minded people and make new friends...the list goes on. But was laundry anywhere on my radar when we were making our plans, anticipating the changes that lay ahead? No. And maybe that is why it is the challenge that seems to encapsulate all of my frustrations of the last year: it was a struggle unexpected, something so simple that seemed I just never could get quite right.

My most favorite smell in all the world is the fresh linen scent of clean sheets and t-shirts. And on more than one occasion last year, I cried hot, bitter tears at the disappointment of missing my favorite smell (an extension, really, of already missing all of the way-more-important-things-and-people in the US!). The detergent here usually smells really good! When we visit other people's homes, I often find myself in a heaven of fresh-linen scent--it's actually a hallmark of the memories I have of my first time in Germany, that beautiful laundry smell. So why couldn't I accomplish it myself, in my own German home?

I'm still not really sure; I think it was a combination of things...water temperature, detergent dose, letting the clothes sit wet in the washing machine and not having a dryer and dryer sheets to get rid of that musty smell. Well you all know. It's not like Mt. Dirty Socks is an unfamiliar summit!

Anyway, with my husband's help (maybe it's his German blood) I finally figured it out. And though it only took a year, my sheets and t-shirts smell heavenly again (most of the time)! The wish I made after Christmas, as we planned Tobi's week-long vacation and the homestretch sprint toward the new year, was that we could get caught up on the laundry (and oil all of the squeaky hinges in the apartment). And we did it. We're finally caught up. Now we've got to just keep on keepin' up!

But all of this is only background. It isn't the real story. The real story is the change that has happened in my heart because of the laundry.

It happened after I began to pray over each sock and shirt and pair of underwear that I hung on the drying rack. With each grass-stained pair little of jeans I thanked God for the moments that happened while we were wearing these clothes. I thanked Him for providing the clothes and for the people who gave them to us. I cried tears again, this time tears of joy as I remembered how my jaw dropped and my girls squealed when months after we got here, we found the bags of clothes in a closet--new coats and warm sweaters and cute ruffled skirts ("dancin' show" is what Eowyn calls her dresses and skirts)--even as I was lamenting that the girls were outgrowing everything and we had little money for anything new.

It happened that the laundry became beautiful to me. Somewhere in the thankfulness, He changed my heart. The monstrous drying rack had been, for so long, the bane of my existence--always in the way, always staring at me and taunting me with my laundry-failures, even looming in the background of all the photos I'd take with my cute girls. I just couldn't get away from it! And all at once, on a dark afternoon in December, the laundry became beautiful to me. In a rare moment of quiet--I was rushing to finish hanging the wash so I could paint for a few minutes while the girls' nap-times miraculously overlapped--I grabbed my camera and clicked away, mesmerized by the twilight and the lamp-light, by the way the plaid and the stripes and the little-girl-hearts mixed and mingled, by the way the socks were lined up like so many precious, counted blessings.

It occurred to me today, that without the laundry--without the drying rack--I probably never would have started painting little houses hanging from trees, and my blog header and the other new art I'm working on never would have been born. After all, I started my blog to counter all of my little frustrations with gratefulness--without the laundry, my blog probably wouldn't have been born at all!

Link up and share a story of your own!
The Storyteller Challenge is:

"Unexpected Inspiration"

Apparently, the repetitive task of hanging the laundry changed my heart this year and inspired the direction of my work as an artist. Has the "familiar" ever become "unfamiliar again" to you too? Has your heart ever been changed by something unexpected?

The linky list is open through Sunday . . . share a new post or an old one--something that tells the story in any medium--words, photos, arts, crafts...whatever creative outlet you can come up with! (Find the "about" page here.) After today, I'm moving "Storytellers" to Sundays (more time to write while Tobias is home from work), so check back at the end of the week for a new artist interview and link party (which is now also a "Blog Hop"--just enabled this feature so you can share it on your blog too, if you'd like. Click on the link below--"What is a Blog Hop"--for more info)!

Once you link up,
1. Leave a comment to say hello!
2. Please take 15 minutes to read and support a few of the other storytellers linking up before you.
3. Kindly grab one of the Storytellers button on my right sidebar or link back in your post!

Happy Storytelling! And linking with Imperfect Prose.

Studio Sneak Peek: Yellow Valentines

2012-01-06T15:48:00.001+01:00

"I tell you, the more I think, the more I feel that there is nothing more truly artistic than to love people."
-- Vincent Van Gogh

Today is a sunny day and this makes me so happy--it's the first time in a week or two that Hamburg has seen the sun for for than 15 minute snatches! I've been painting again this week--and this makes me happy too. And (in case you missed yesterday's post) my first artist interview posted yesterday on Robin's blog, My Creative Peace. More happiness! :)

I mentioned here that it's hard for me to be inspired without the rays of a warm sunshine, so I've been "hibernating" in a sense, snuggled up with my family among all our twinkle lights (to ward off the gloom of the short days!) burrowing deeper into those three hearts who, together, are my truest home. But a combination of post-holiday blues, missing my friends and family in the U.S. and all the rain caused me to pick up my brush and pen again this week. The color yellow can be my sunshine for now!

And I'm inspired by Valentine's Day, of course, which has always been my favorite. Although my chest literally aches in missing the people I love on the other side of the ocean, my heart is so wonderfully, full-to-bursting, with joy in my little family and the home we are making together.

This yellow heart represents my hopes for the new year--I'll share more once I finish it. I'm incorporating some collage in this piece, using squares of splashed watercolor paper and the vintage, lined Schreibpapier from my father-in-law. I'm loving the way the paper crown looks--inspired in part by Jennifer's adorable bird ornaments!

Linking this week for more inspiration from the girls at Studio Sneak Peek and Paint Party. I've missed my bloggy friends and look forward to catching up with some of you this weekend!

Lots of LOVE,

Walkin' in my Big Girl Shoes

2012-01-04T23:03:00.002+01:00

Yay! My first artist interview posted today on My Creative Peace, the place where Robin Norgren blogs about art inspired and fueled by faith. She posted my illustration, "Big Girl Shoes" along with the interview, and even though I painted that watercolor piece three years ago (when I was pregnant with Eowyn) it was only when I saw it on Robin's blog today that I realized that this is how I feel so much of the time: like a knobbly-kneed little girl--cute and sweet and all that--but totally oblivious to the fact that I'm not really as "grown up" as I think I am.

Lately I've been thinking a lot about this quote from Martha Graham:

"You do not even have to believe in yourself or your work. You have to keep open and aware directly to the urges that motivate you. Keep the channel open. There is no satisfaction whatever at any time. There is only a queer, divine dissatisfaction, a blessed unrest that keeps us marching and makes us more alive."

Do you ever feel like this--that sometimes it seems like the gift of creativity also comes with the "curse" of thinking destructively--"my art isn't good enough," "I wish I could paint (write, dress, cook, mother) like she does," "maybe I should just quit." I like how Martha Graham suggests that maybe we could turn this kind of thinking around, look at as "divine dissatisfaction" rather than as a curse--an indication that we are always seeking divine Perfection and Beauty.

This is how my "destructive thinking" often reads:

What kind of a mom and wife am I, really? Sometimes when Tobias comes home from work and swings the girls around the kitchen while I'm making dinner, I have this strange sensation that we really are still teenagers, just playing house. HOW IN THE WORLD IS IT POSSIBLE that we are responsible for these two precious little lives???

Where does my art fit in to this huge world of creative people trying to express themselves? Do I actually have something unique to say--a message that means something--and the creativity and skill to back it up?

Who do I think I am--this shy American girl living in Germany, trying to build a life and relationships while using a language that's not yet my own and doesn't make it easy for me to be myself (which, let's face it, isn't an easy thing for most people anyway). Why did I ever think I could make it on my own, so far away from my best friends and dear family who are the ones who have always reminded me of who I am? How could I ever have abandoned them???

You know what? These are all hard questions, but they're good questions when I remember that though I may never know the answers, I know the One who DOES have the answers. I hope I never lose that feeling of being a little girl facing a big world--because I know my Daddy loves me and is holding my hand, has ordained my steps and has it all figured out. He has a purpose for all of us--and we can use whatever "destructive" questions that plague us as opportunities to say YES to Jesus, to trust rather than to worry.

"He must become greater; I must become less" (John 3:30 NLT).

It's an uncomfortable feeling most of the time, yes. Most little girls dream of being confident, sophisticated women, inside and out--but I'm afraid I will always just be myself. And whatever that looks like to others--to me it means to always be the wide-eyed little girl in pigtails (yes, still, even though I'll be 31 next month)! As long as I stay small, God can show Himself to be BIG--to work in mighty ways on my behalf--in my life with my family, in my art, in all of my relationships (whether I'm good at nurturing them or not). He's brought me this far, and He sure won't leave me now!!!

Thank you for the interview, Robin! I enjoyed your questions, and the way they helped me write about my adventure of becoming--and becoming, and becoming, and STILL (forever) becoming--an artist!

Reflecting Light for a Happy New Year!

2011-12-30T23:56:00.003+01:00

"We lose a great deal

when we lose the sense and feeling for the sun.

When all has been said,

the adventure of the sun

is the great natural drama by which we live,

and not to have joy in it and awe of it,

not to share in it,

is to close a dull door on nature's sustaining and poetic spirit."

--Henry Beston

Right after Christmas, it's always as if I expect Spring to arrive at any minute.

My creativity seems to follow the sun--I have a really hard time painting when it's dark, even in the glow of cozy lamps and candles. So I'm soaking up every extra minute of sunlight we'll get from now until spring, collecting them in my creative heart and expecting a new explosion of inspiration to happen some time in the new year!

It's beautiful to me, whatever way it came about, the way the observance of Advent parallels the deepest days of winter leading up to the December Solstice. In this way, the natural rhythms of nature reflect the yearning of our souls and every year the waiting-waiting-waiting and hoping-hoping-hoping for the promised Light of the world happens--quite literally--during the darkest days of the year. And once Christmas arrives, it seems that even the sun rejoices in the glory of the precious gift of the Son--blessing us every day with one or two more minutes of light.

Wishing you light, extra warmth and inspiration as well--and a very happy and blessed 2012!

P.S. Have you heard? Kim Klassen has a brand-new e-course starting on January 16! (I used her texture, "Soft Shale," in the photo above.) New textures and inspiration sent to your inbox every week for the entire year!!! And the e-course that made my year, and would be a PERFECT way to start 2012?!: Stephanie Levy's Creative Courage--starts January 9!

"There are two ways of spreading light: To be the candle or the mirror that reflects it."
--Edith Wharton

Golden Christmas Light

2011-12-26T22:24:00.000+01:00

"The people walking in darkness

have seen a great light;

on those living in the land of deep darkness

a light has dawned."

--Isaiah 9:2

Spent Christmas in Berlin with my husband's family. Fell in love with the light and all the little details of the day.

And fell even deeper in love with my husband, who gifted me with an amazing new camera lens that was actually able to capture the warmth and glow of it all--exactly as it was reflected in my eyes and my heart.

Oh, and that wasn't the only trick up his sleeve. Don't know how he did it (I think he had some help from my brother-in-law), but today I'm resizing photos in Photoshop CS5! You're a wonderful, wonderful man, Tobias Schilling.

Merry Second Christmas Day from Germany--much love to you and yours!

I'm thankful for...

2011-12-19T21:22:00.001+01:00

-Twinkle lights.

-The beginnings of a fresh coat of paint on the walls--it will probably be a work-in-progress for a while, but the sunny glow of the new olive-green tone is already promising extra warmth for these long, dark winter months.

-A new bookshelf expectantly bare and beckoning with possibility.

-Colored popsicle sticks, a box of fresh markers and fuzzy pipecleaners that make perfect butterfly antennas.

-Eowyn's favorite request: "I want to malen ("to paint" in German) with you, Mama!"

-My two favorite round little faces covered in marker-ink and paint.

-A conversation with a far-away friend in a dream.

-Prints of my artwork, lovingly packaged and waiting by the door--and a "shipping assistant" (my husband) who faithfully delivers them to the post office.

-Purchasing a Christmas tree at half-price before Christmas!

-A gleeful husband who keeps asking if I want to open my Christmas present early.

-Finally getting to light the fourth candle in the Advent wreath!

-Watching a favorite movie translated into German--it feels new again!

-Remembering why I grew up loving country music--I'm really enjoying Vince Gill's album, "Guitar Slinger."(Thanks Grandma and Grandpa!!!).

-December, and a handful of pink roses--dusted with the first snow of the winter--still smile up at me from the neighbor's arbor below.

It's been a while, but I started counting again, adding these thing and others to my list of 1,000(+) gifts.

It's not that I haven't been thankful. Well, of course there are always moments when I'm selfish and not thankful enough. But I know I have so much to be thankful for, and I am thankful. Sometimes I just get into a rut, when it's like I'm talking myself into being thankful and trying to convince myself that I have joy--the feelings just aren't bubbling up from my heart.

Do you ever feel that way? Like sometimes you'd rather just be dissatisfied? It's easy to do (for me, anyway) because although I usually know what the right thing to do is, I like to let my feelings get in the way. Maybe it's just that I like the drama? I say, "I'm thankful, I'm thankful, I'm THANKful, I'm THANKFUL, I'M THANKFUL..." until I'm saying it through gritted teeth and feeling the very OPPOSITE of thanks!

Here's the subtle difference: saying "I'm thankful" is NOT always expressing the same sentiment as saying, "thank YOU." Because when I thank HIM, the focus is not on my attitude--"look at me and how thankful I am!" (said in a Nellie Olsen voice). When I say thank you to my Father, who provides what He knows I need at the very moment I need it (or withholds what He knows I don't need, even when I whine like my two-year-old), my focus is on the promise of His GOODNESS--even when my little self doesn't always understand.

What I love about Christmas is that it's the time of year when my heart truly is overflowing. Lately, the thankfulness has come easy. I have been loving this time of Advent--really slowing down and trying not to get caught up in the feeling of a Christmas "deadline." Lots of crafting with the girls in our cozy apartment that starts to twinkle with lights starting around 3pm or so. (It starts getting dark here around 3:30!) A few little presents purchased online, a couple of packages I'm slowly filling with goodies...Christmas cards still waiting to be sent (most likely, for New Year)! No Christmas tree yet--been waiting until after the last Sunday of Advent and Winter Solstice. Ingredients lined up on the counter for the Christmas baking to commence this week. We're just getting warmed up to enter into the Christmas Spirit full-swing!

Linking up at Ann's with others who count gifts. Hope you're feeling warm and thankful too!

STORYTELLERS (Art with Heart): Liese Chavez

2011-12-13T22:24:00.001+01:00

I was drawn in by the storytelling-artwork of Liese Chavez as soon as I laid eyes on her Etsy shop profile:

"Down the rabbit hole we go ... As a child I wanted to know what was inside, what was under, what was behind things. I still do. Come into the wardrobe with me, let the smell of old faded minks brush your face and peek with me up onto the high shelf filled with hatboxes and secrets..."

In her home studio among the foothills and red rocks of beautiful Manitou Springs, Colorado, Liese paints full-time, creating characters that reflect the mystery and wonder of childhood--what she calls "all the nostalgia and strange faces of my past."

"I am inspired by turns of phrase, walks in the trees, childhood, fairytales, fables, great tunes, a good mystery...just life. Every day can be full of exciting ideas if you let your mind wander."

And the imagination wanders indeed when it follows Liese's art, playfully beckoning out of the mysterious depths of wonderland.

From acrylic combined with black-and-white ink drawings creating high contrast and negative space,

to soft, neutral watercolors with gentle pops of rosy pink and red,

to rich oil paintings full of vibrant color and carefully crafted expression--whatever medium Liese chooses for a particular piece, her mission is always the same:

"My goal is to reach a place with the viewer where they are reminded of something from their history that made them feel hopeful or strong or full of wonder--all the things that we are when we are at our best."

"Life is can be quite sober at times and I think it is ok for art to make you laugh or make you secretly believe in fanciful things that you'd never admit to. I aim to give a feeling of nostalgia, something that takes the viewer back to a time when all things were possible."

Because this youthful feeling that "all things are possible" holds so much more than words can say, Liese often prefers to let her work speak for itself--to let her audience interpret the mysteries and write the stories for themselves.

"In some ways I use my artwork to connect with people. When I talk with someone about the themes of the pieces that they are drawn to, we share a common viewpoint for that time and it is like we know a private piece of one another." Liese says this connection is "one of the most rewarding aspects of creating the art." But she also worries about this aspect of the face-to-face connection with her audience (perhaps a common-thread among many artists): "I can be clumsy when communicating in person and I misread people or forget people's names or say too much. (I always say too much!) The art is the best of me that I have to share. If only I could let it do ALL the talking."

Liese's subjects reflect this idea of an intensely personal inner-life and the worlds of creativity that can exist even in places unexpected. "My favorite thing to paint is people and I like to see people in the artwork I admire by others. I guess that is just what I personally connect to--the face, the hands, the small expressions of being human."

Emotion and imagination are the true substance of the stories Liese creates. And it all must be conveyed through a face. "My stories are all about who we are inside, so the figures I paint rarely have any exaggerated facial expression. It is not because they are unhappy, but because they are being with themselves in a private and unaffected way. When you are alone or thinking about something personal do you put on a face for the world to see that describes your emotions? I want the viewer to share a private moment with the character in the painting, and no pretenses are necessary in that moment."

The naturalness of Liese's subjects beautifully offsets the magical and sometimes fantastical details of the scene. Although she's been painting since 2005, just over a year ago Liese discovered oil painting and the special way it can communicate in her work.

"I love the variety of textures and finishes possible with this media ... I think the most important part of my paintings is the skin of the characters. I believe that making soft glowing skin in oil helps people to have a gentle feeling for the subject, helping them to connect. Oil is very good for dreamy atmospheric effects, which also really works with the type of stories I tell."

Liese is quite a disciplined painter: "I paint 5 days a week whether I feel like it or not, as I always have so much to do! I rotate through the paintings so I am working on something each day for 8-10 hours." Lisa shares her progress on Facebook, which is important in helping people to understand the length of time she spends on her work. "It varies by piece," she says, "but I just finished a 24x30 oil painting that took me 3 months to complete!"

Both Liese and her husband work full-time from home, making art. But play-time is still important for an artist so dedicated to her work. "We will pop out for a walk or go have a picnic when we need to escape," she says. "I think it is a great time to talk over details we are stuck on in the artwork, or if we have nothing we need to hash out we might just go for a ride on my scooter through The Garden of the Gods and marvel at the surreal landscape. If the weather doesn't permit playing outside we sometimes play a game inside to feel refreshed. I think acting like a child on my breaks helps me to keep a lighthearted approach to the work when I return."

I love the lighthearted nature of your work, Liese, and the deeper emotional connections it makes while still being soft and childlike. Thank you so much for sharing your story with Storytellers!

For more of Liese's work, check out her Etsy shop--Pale Preoccupation. And be sure to "like" her Facebook page to see some GORGEOUS works-in-progress!

Stories have such awesome power to create connections among us, to encourage us, to change us. And as writers and artists, it is often the most intensely personal stories that flow out of our pens and brushes, the kinds of stories that most people keep to themselves but we feel a calling to share through our creativity.

Link up and share a story of your own!

"No Pretenses"

I love the "no pretenses" attitude of Liese's subjects and the question she poses: "When you are alone or thinking about something personal do you put on a face for the world to see that describes your emotions?" How do you think this relates to blogging--something that is, at the same time, both so personal and so public?

The linky list is open through Sunday . . . share a new post or an old one--something that shares an element of story with the medium of your choice--paint, a photo or two, words (Find the "about" page here.) After today, I'll be taking a Christmas break from "Storytellers," but will return with the link-party and a fresh tale to tell on Tuesday, January 10!

Once you link up,
1. Leave a comment to thank Liese for sharing her story, and to let me know you've added a link.
2. Please take 15 minutes to read and support a few of the other storytellers linking up before you.
3. Kindly grab one of the Storytellers button on my right sidebar or link back in your post!

Happy Holidays, and Happy Storytelling!

One at a Time...

2011-12-08T11:34:00.006+01:00

This has been my mantra of late, attempting to pause and hold the weight of each piece, each moment of my life in my hands--one at a time--and to count all of it as blessing:

Managing the chaos of a household with two toddlers one thing at a time...because this mess will not bury me--I never would let it get to that point! The messes that I let overwhelm me are made one dish at a time, one sock at a time, one toy at a time. And really, I do clean up--all the time! It's just that I'm only managing to stay one step ahead of the tiny twin tornadoes. And for now, that has to be ok. I've said the words "overwhelmed" and "stressed" far too often during this past year and I've decided that it stops here and now. Because the truth is that I enjoy making the messes almost as much as my kids do! Maybe the answer is to try and enjoy the cleaning up too.

I've been giving myself little pep-talks: "Yay! You put the pepper shaker away! That's one less thing out on the kitchen counter, good for you." I'm serious. I celebrate like this: "Yay! Hubby stepped on and broke the big black 3-D sunglasses the girls look so cute wearing but never put away. Now we can toss them, and one less toy will be littering the floor at the end of the day."

Enjoying one child at a time...since the little one persists in being an early riser while the bigger one is a night owl AND suddenly a non-napper. This means my new schedule is usually about 15 hours straight of (mostly) quality time with at least one of the girls, whereas before I had 2-3 hours to re-charge during the beautiful blessing of a double nap-time.

Yes, at first I parted reluctantly with my precious alone time. And oh how I miss painting and blogging! (I'm approaching this too with my new, careful and leisurely no-pressure-attitude--I'm still managing to post at least once a week, and I even have a drawing on my worktable that I'll have time to start painting any day now.) But when I accepted no double-nap-time as the new "normal" and stopped fighting to get my own way, I realized that hanging out one-on-one with Eowyn in the middle of the day is actually way more fun than my "alone" time ever was!

Connecting with people and selling my artwork one postcard at a time...because you never know where that postcard might go and who it might meet.

A couple of weeks ago, I spent an eight-hour day at a craft fair and sold only a single postcard, which, of course, did not pay for the gas it took to drive there, much less cover the cost of renting the booth or make the days of prep-work worthwhile. Or did it? I'm choosing to believe that it was worth it, especially since in the two weeks since that fair I have sold two more postcards in my Etsy shop, PLUS 11 prints!!! Yay!!!

After all, I have rejoiced to build the readership for this little blog one precious person at a time (I am truly grateful for each person who checks in on my blog now and then!)--and although I really try not to get wrapped up in the numbers, I celebrated in my heart when I recently reached the milestone of 100 followers! It's still sort of unbelievable that anyone would be interested in what I have to say :). Thank you, by the way! I hope you'll continue to come visit me even though lately I can't be online all that often.

Since my own creative life is somewhat hit-and-miss these days, I've been sharing the stories of other interesting artists, one at a time. If you haven't already, please check out my recent interviews with Suzanne Millius and Juliette Crane--there's even still time this week to link up (at the end of Juliette's interview) and share a story of your own!

Linking up today (it's been a while!) with my friends at Imperfect Prose and Studio Sneak Peek. Happy weekend...let's hope I can get some Christmas shopping done!

STORYTELLERS (Art with Heart): Juliette Crane

2011-12-06T22:04:00.002+01:00

Isn't there a saying that goes, "When God closes a door, he always opens a window?" It was the proverbial closed door that caused Juliette Crane to stop in her tracks, re-stage the scene of her story and begin an artist-life.

"I’ve always been creative and had loads of imagination," she says, "but I never believed I could allow my own creativity to be the catalyst for my career. I’d hopped from job to job, always creating for someone else or working with flowers and the outdoors."

Juliette ended up working as a gardener and landscaper, which she says was a "turning point" because she was actually happy in one of the first jobs she ever really loved. "And then I was fired via a phone message and I felt like the rug had been pulled out from beneath me."

But instead of floundering at the door shut abruptly in her face, Juliette took flight and found the freedom of a window--a window called art. "That event ignited this thing inside me where all I wanted to do was create for myself. And the way for me to do that was to go back to what I loved most as a child ... dragging out all of my art supplies-crayons, watercolors, markers- and painting on my belly in the backyard."

During the summer of 2009 Juliette became like a child again and got lost in a mess of art supplies and a few "fabulous vintage wallpaper books"--a gift from her sister-in-law. "I adored creating and cutting out outfits for characters, then making up their stories."

And all of this creating was part of Juliette's "healing process." It was as if her broken heart finally gave her the boldness she'd needed all along. "I hadn’t painted in ages because I always felt like, 'what good is having all of these paintings in my basement or a back closet where no one ever sees them?' After I lost my job, it didn’t matter who saw my art. I began painting just for me and having tons of fun with it all."

Soon, the "fun" Juliette was having on canvas began to fill the walls of her house. At the encouragement of her friends, she began to consider having an art show--and doors quickly flew open within a matter of weeks. "I had an art opening for [my show at the local library] and invited friends, family, neighbors--everyone!" Juliette says. And she was thrilled to discover that not only was she suddenly showing her work, but she was also selling her work! "It was all so exciting and so nice to hear feedback and have support, especially from many unexpected people, that all I wanted was to create more and build on that feeling!"

By January 2010, Juliette had planned another art show at a coffee shop, signed up for an online creative business class (with Stephanie Fizer Coleman), and added art to her Etsy shop. "And that’s when I felt that it could really work," she says. "I could be a full-time artist. I knew then, that’s what I was supposed to do. That’s what I’d been searching for all along."

From the layers and layers of mixed media play in her backgrounds, to the soulful expressions on the faces of her little girls, owls and other creatures, it's clear that Juliette's work is all about creating character. And as a self-proclaimed "incredibly messy" painter, she knows that sometimes messiness is the the best place for character-building.

"Backgrounds are all about getting the emotion out for me. It a way to free blocks and just see what colors I’m loving in that moment." But creating a character--"that’s a slower process of the painting," she says. Like in her own life--where an abrupt halt in the story-line was what she needed to find her true purpose--when painting a character Juliette always starts "with a pause," so she can connect with the emotion and "sketch a character and posture" that truly reflects what she wants to express.

Juliette says that painting the third layer--the details and face of the character--is a focused and sometimes frustrating phase. "I paint over and over a characters’ face until the eyes really resonate." This is where Juliette sometimes feels like she "just can't get it right," and she says, "it's always because I'm trying."

The secret to getting out of a rut? Juliette says it's simply to start having fun again. So she moves on to a new painting until she is refreshed, until the childish voice of the character in her first painting calls to her again and she feels ready to finish the canvas. "The last layer of a painting is the most fun--creating my character's scene and embellishments. Since I already have my character's face at that point, the rest just falls into place and I can feel who that character is--it’s almost like the character leads me to where the painting needs to be."

Because she is so at home in this world of whimsical owls, emotional color and beautiful mess, Juliette sometimes wishes she "would have just been a painter in the first place." She studied painting and even had art shows in college, but she says, "my art then was basically the first layer of my backgrounds now--very abstract without any character. It took all of those years of working other jobs and growing into myself to create my current paintings. I’ve learned so much along the way that has prepared me to run my creative business successfully right now. And it couldn’t have been any other way."

Her backyard--the stage of her re-connection with the creativity of childhood and the scene of her artist "awakening"--is still Juliette's favorite place to work. "During the summer, I have two sawhorses and a piece of drywall I set up as my studio table in my backyard. It’s my favorite place to be, just creating in the sunshine all day!"

Just as her creative career was sparked by a bold step into the unknown, Juliette is still inspired by adventure--her way of "recharging" is to travel, to experience new places, or simply to get lost in the drama that waits in a book and even just outside her front door in Madison, Wisconsin. "I soak in all that’s around me…maybe it’s a conversation between a couple that I overhear, a story someone tells me, or just being in the beauty of birch trees on a nature walk…it all brings new life and energy into my creativity."

Juliette shares bits of her daily adventures on her blog and website. And of course, her Etsy shop is brimming with the winsome wisdom and dramatics of her captivating owls and other friends--plus, Juliette offers e-courses that teach others to paint characters with similar depth and emotion.

Thank you for sharing your story and your beautiful work, Juliette! I hope others will be inspired to tell a story of their own...

Stories have such awesome power to create connections among us, to encourage us, to change us. Many of us connect with the story of life coming to an abrupt halt, having to start over again--to look for a window when the door has been shut in our face.

Link up and share a story of your own!

When you have faced various circumstances where "starting over" was the only thing to do, did creativity ever play a role in the healing process? How did you, like Juliette did, get back to basics and discover what made you happy when you were a child?

The linky list is open through Sunday . . . share a new post or an old one--something that shares an element of story with the medium of your choice--paint, a photo or two, words (Find the "about" page here.)

Once you link up,
1. Leave a comment to thank Juliette for sharing her story, and to let me know you've added a link.
2. Please take 15 minutes to read and support a few of the other storytellers linking up before you.
3. Kindly grab one of the Storytellers button on my right sidebar or link back in your post!

Happy Storytelling!

STORYTELLERS (Art with Heart): Suzanne Millius

2011-11-29T17:18:00.001+01:00

***Don't forget to check out the creative blog link-up at the end of this post!***

Graphic designer and busy mom by day, Suzanne Millius of Dubuque, Iowa--the owner of Studio3ten on Etsy--still finds it easy to call herself "artist, poet and dream-chaser"--she says she was born to be an artist. You might call hers a story of someone with an "old soul," someone with a special connection to the past that manifests in her artwork as a nostalgia for the simplicity of days gone by, an understanding of the beauty and wonder that is fleeting and lost moment-by-moment, and a desire to capture those moments and memorialize them forever.

Suzanne says her love for the past has a lot to do with old photographs--with the way the "deep intensity you can see in someone's eyes" is "captured forever." When she plays with elements of fashion from different eras (the 1920s is her favorite), re-interpreting them in her work with a fresh pop-art feel, it is almost as if she's creating a brand-new snapshot of a classic era. And the intensity continues to shine in the eyes of the women who show up over and over again in Suzanne's work.

"I think [the women] are facets of myself, but more importantly facets of EVERYONE," says Suzanne. "Doesn't mater if you or male or female--this internal struggle of being yourself, living for today, themes centered around music and aspects of life that make us feel alive inside--these are things every human being has in common."

"1926" is a piece especially significant for Suzanne, for it represents this struggle in living for today while yearning for the past--and the consciousness that each and every beautiful moment that glitters before our eyes is just as quickly passing into yesterday:

"This piece represents a part of my childhood. My dad's side had a lot of musicians--my grandmother, (my dad's mom) was an amazing pianist. My aunt (her daughter) also had this amazing talent. I remember being in grade school, and my aunt would come for dinner. After dinner, mostly on Sunday nights, we would sit around the piano and sing songs from [the 1920s]. 'Five Foot Two, Eyes of Blue' and 'Bye Bye Black Bird.' I remember my dad playing the guitar or banjo, my aunt playing piano, my mother singing, and us kids singing along.

"At the time it was all I knew, probably not a 'big deal' in my mind. But as I am typing this now, there is a sadness, because that moment is gone ... As a child, singing [those songs], I thought about that time period, the fashion, the energy--the excitement. I look back on those memories and feel blessed to have them, but I feel hurt inside--because I hate that you don't truly appreciate those things, until you are older.

"Looking back, I know how lucky I was to have all that music and art around me. '1926' is about this moment--this moment right now, that will be gone when tomorrow arrives. Its about that era--the 20s. The fashion, the music--THAT was their present time. Very difficult for me to put in words--easier for me to 'illustrate!'"

From this poetic description of her childhood, it's easy to see how the ideas of being creative and artistic "swirled around" Suzanne's household as she was a child growing up--and she says that naturally, she soaked it up, "became a part of it."

"'Artist' was a beautiful title I was given as a young child - and I completely embraced it. I was lucky to grow up in a family that fostered my creativity. There was always music, there was always art. My parents have always supported me, (and still do) and have always told me to be 'me'."

"I remember when I would dress myself--I would pair pink pants with stripes and a red top with polka-dots--and I remember hearing my mother say, 'Suzanne's an artist, she marches to her own beat.' And you know, I liked that. I liked that I was marching to 'my own beat.'"

The polka-dots, stripes and swirls continue to make an appearance alongside original poetry in the funky, art-deco inspired illustrations Suzanne creates using a combination of handmade line drawings and digital collage. And this free-spirit continues to "march to her own beat," completely embracing the life of an artist--even with a family and a full-time graphic-design job.

"I work late at night ... midnight is MY time," says Suzanne. "I'd like to pretend that morning is where I am inspired, but at night, when my brain is semi-tired, but also a little chaotic from the work day--I think somehow in that turmoil, I find I am most creative."

And "it's not just about drawing, painting, writing," she says. "It's about 'being' creative, 'thinking creatively'--noticing the subtleties all around you, that others are too busy, or too preoccupied to notice."

Suzanne says these simple joys and everyday moments are what inspire her the most--"the weather, a smile, my son's laugh, cuddling my dog, a small leaf falling from the tree, the sound of the rain on the roof." And, of course, music.

"Music is ALWAYS a constant for me. Music makes me 'feel'--and when I am creating, I have to feel something, otherwise the piece I create lacks depth emotion. And if it doesn't move me, it won't move anyone else."

What continues to "move" Suzanne more than anything is the way we can hold in our hands the preciousness of each moment, all the while knowing that these moments are fleeting: "As a whole, much of my work is about inspiring yourself, living your best life. Being you, only you. Living in this moment now, because we blink, and tomorrow arrives."

Suzanne laughs that this seemingly complicated and intense dilemma could be simplified if we would only learn from our pets. She observes that dogs always wake up happy--this was the inspiration for her sunflower piece above.

"Dogs have the ability to just live in this very moment. When they wake in the morning, they are not dwelling on yesterday--they are not worrying what tomorrow will bring. They are living in the 'now'. This is something very difficult for humans to do, because the complexities of our lives often take over, and we over-think things. We dwell, we worry--and as we do this, the moments slip by."

In the same way she looks at something as simple as a dog's life and gleans a rich harvest of meaning, Suzanne likes to couple fashion in her art with the unexpected exploration of the human soul:

"I have always LOVED the idea of expressing myself through what I choose to wear. So I somehow create these 'alter egos' of myself--with high fashion combined with the intensity of words--representing thought. Its kind of like mixing beauty/fashion--which can be very one dimensional--with a sort of deep internal struggle ... Because I think we typically think of beauty/fashion as this superficial 'thing,' but combined with perception--and reflection--it becomes something else."

Of course, color and pattern are also integral--Suzanne also enjoys playing with these elements for effect and "feeling." She says she likes to add "unexpected" color: "If the subject matter seems 'upbeat' happy, or 'light,' adding intense red--or dark tones--can throw you a curve ball. Makes you realize what you see in life is not always the 'truth', that things are not always as they seem."

"I think we all struggle with who we are, what our true purpose is--what our 'true self' is," says Suzanne. "My work is about love, joy, struggles, insecurities--the raw emotions that all human beings have."

Poetry, in its essence, is about compacting abstract, complicated ideas into the simplest of forms. Suzanne's art--is poetry in this way--patterns, words, brightly colored images reflecting a hard-fought victory of finding joy in the moment and satisfaction in simplicity.

You can see more of Suzanne's passionate and encouraging work in her Etsy shop, Studio3ten and on her Facebook page!

- - - - -

Stories have such awesome power to create connections among us, to encourage us, to change us. We all have this in common, this nostalgia for the past and the longing to re-live memories just one more time.

Link up and share a story of your own!

How do YOU, like Suzanne says, "live your best life in this moment," while still honoring the past?

The linky list is open until Sunday . . . share a new post or an old one--something that shares an element of story with the medium of your choice--paint, a photo or two, words (Find the "about" page here.)

Once you link up,
1. Leave a comment to thank Suzanne for sharing her story, and to let me know you've added a link.
2. Please take 15 minutes to read and support a few of the other storytellers linking up before you.
3. Kindly grab one of the Storytellers button on my right sidebar or link back in your post!

Happy Storytelling!

STORYTELLERS: to come "home" again

2011-11-22T21:25:00.005+01:00

Thanksgiving week in the USA...lots of "homecomings" in process and on the way! I myself arrived home yesterday from an adventurous 4 days of backpacking in Spain--my first "return" to Germany as "home." Well, the truth is that I was loaded down with a backpack, a fairly heavy camera, and also an oversize purse-type bag in addition to my backpack, which I wore messenger-style and regretted the extra weight with every step I took on my blistered left foot. : ) But I'm still impressed with myself that I packed so light--even though my sister was probably five-times as far away from home and travelling five days longer than I and STILL had less stuff than I packed.

But that's beside the point. I'm not writing just yet about the trip (although I promise there are lots of pictures to share soon!). Because for me, this trip was really all about the homecoming.

I think I knew this even before I left. This "vacation" wasn't entirely for the purpose of seeing Spain or seeing my sister. Strangely, I didn't even think much in advance about what I wanted to do and see while we were there. I'm serious. I just barely even looked at the map. I'm not the best planner, especially when deep in my heart I wanted so badly just to stay home. I've wished several times this past year for a trip to Spain, the only reason it actually happened is because it turned out that's where my sister was going to be, and there was no question that I'd make the short trip to see her since she'd be so much closer than the usual ocean away!

Spain was wonderful--of course it was. What an amazing opportunity to reconnect with my sister on such a beautiful adventure. The time away was good, even though the "restfulness" of that time is questionable, since carrying my bags was probably harder work than carrying my daughters! They are indeed the cuter and sweeter "burdens" to bear--not burdens at all, in fact, but the joys of my life.

But the best part of the trip? Coming home. Seeing this place with new eyes. Seeing my people with new eyes. I had already decided that this holiday season, I was going to make this apartment my "masterpiece"--focus a little less on painting and more on making "art" of my home. Suddenly, I am drawn to my knees with thankfulness for my little safe haven--and it doesn't feel forced; it's not thanks uttered through gritted teeth (even though the more difficult thanksgiving was probably the dark soil where the seed of change first began to germinate).

Nothing here has changed--I am the one who is beginning to change. And instead of just talking and theorizing about finding the beauty in the mess that this family makes, for the first time I actually SEE it and my heart spontaneously overflows.

My kitchen is cozy. My living room glows with light and love. My bedroom is soft and peaceful and safe. My girls have dimples that I forgot about, new words that I never heard them say before in voices more musical than I remembered. And my husband is taller and stronger and more patient and wise than I ever could have dreamed--PLUS he washed loads and loads of laundry, which he promptly hung to dry (veeery important if you don't want clothes smelling worse when they're clean than when they're dirty) and neatly put away in closets now overflowing with my favorite, fresh-linen scent.

I didn't "find" myself in Spain. I only remembered how much of myself I have lost in the embrace of these people I love--in the embrace of these walls of home that rise up to protect and even to close in around us sometimes, inspiring continual cycles of resistance and acceptance, selfishness and sacrifice, escape and return.

Yes, I have lost myself and I love it--because it is in the losing of your heart that that love multiplies and you find a life more expansive than your one little self can bear.

Stories have such awesome power to create connections among us, to encourage us, to change us. And sometimes getting lost in a story is just like coming "home."

Link up and share a story of your own!

Do you have a homecoming story to tell this Thanksgiving week?

The linky list is open until Sunday . . . share a new post or an old one--something that shares an element of story with the medium of your choice--paint, a photo or two, words (Find the "about" page here.)

Once you link up,
1. Leave a comment to let me know you've added a link.
2. Please take 15 minutes to read and support a few of the other storytellers linking up before you.
3. Kindly grab one of the Storytellers button on my right sidebar or link back in your post!

Happy Thanksgiving, and Happy Storytelling!

STORYTELLERS (Art with Heart): Jessie Barber

2011-11-15T19:08:00.004+01:00

This story is for anyone drawn to the mythical and magical. It's a story for everyone, really, because who among us hasn't wished that fairy tales really do exist? Our everyday lives are often so routine and full of challenges that tempt us to run away. Maybe this is why we love to dream of imaginary worlds of wonder, filled with delicate but powerful creatures who use their gifts to tame dragons and make troubles disappear in a wink.

Jessie Barber paints for "anyone who has an interest in the faery world, who dreams of riding dragons and who wants to expand their imagination." This self-taught fantasy artist lives in Kennett Square, Pennsylvania, in the perfect place for one who is most inspired by nature and animals.

Jessie's worktable is situated against a window that looks out on the woodlands and fields surrounding the horse farm where she lives with her boyfriend and parents. She loves to get right to work after an early morning walk with the dogs, "just soaking up the beauty that nature has to offer." And a kitten named Sadie bounces around the studio as Jessie works, her "energy and life" providing endless inspiration. When she's stuck in a rut, a ride on her horse or a mountain-cabin retreat is just what Jessie needs to gain new perspective.

As she channels all the energetic majesty and peaceful wonder of nature into her work, Jessie works her own magical touch into the watercolors, creating paintings that are as delicate and ethereal as the pixies and fairy characters themselves. Meet them all in her Etsy shop: Faery Dust Art.

"Watercolors are a perfect medium for creating faery worlds and the creatures that inhabit them," says Jessie. "They have such a lovely, delicate effect and rich colors. They really help give my characters and paintings that whimsical, bright and magical look."

Jessie grew up on a diet of fairy tales and communed with the natural and invisible worlds from a young age. "I used to leave little gifts among the roots of trees for the faeries and build them little houses," she says. And she always had her pencil and crayons handy, drawing with her sister and creating characters and stories. The skills came easily--she was always among the best of her friends and classmates--and making art was something she simply loved to do.

"When I was a child I had a certainty in me that I was an artist and would always be an artist and a successful one at that," says Jessie. "I never went to college or art school, but I did have a wonderful art teacher in my last two years of high school who taught me the core and foundation techniques of creating fine art. He was someone who really believed in me as an artist and gave me great support."

But Jessie says that even with the technical skills and encouragement she received from her teacher, throughout her teenage years she lost the certainty she'd felt as a child. She remembers feeling especially "directionless" just before she turned 20--she knew that she still wanted to make art, but what kind?

"Finally, a couple of years ago I entered into a small craft fair with some of my artwork, where I had many compliments and interest in the one fairy painting I had done. After receiving a suggestion from my sister that I should paint more fairies, I decided to listen to little voices of the faeries and dragons that lived inside my imagination." Jessie also makes jewelry from miniature prints of her watercolors--whimsical lockets and other accessories with an antique bronze look, perfect pieces to capture the imagination as relics from a magical realm.

In essence, Jessie's is a story about re-discovering the faith and imagination of childhood: "When people view my work I want it to bring them a sense of joy, wonder and magic--feelings I think we feel quite frequently when we are children but begin to lose as we become adults." And the best part of creating, for Jessie, is when her work is part of this amazing and joyful process of re-discovery--when she can help "to awaken the imagination and bring a smile to someone’s face."

Jessie's artwork has also played a role in the storytelling of others. An avid reader of fantasy novels herself, Jessie jumped at the chance to collaborate with an aspiring fantasy writer who hired Jessie to create custom paintings of the characters she had written into life. "We had a really fun time communicating and work on the project together," says Jessie. "When I finished the paintings she wrote a lovely little piece on her blog about how perfectly I had painted her characters and that they looked exactly as she had pictured them in her head. She said my artwork was inspiring her to continue writing and to finish her story and get it published. It was so empowering to hear about how well I was able to interpret her vision."

Some of the best feedback she's ever received was the story of how her art helped a young girl down her own creative path: "Recently I had a woman purchase a print for her daughter for her 12th birthday. Afterward she sent me a message saying that when she showed my Etsy shop to her daughter it inspired her to start drawing again."

With the care that Jessie puts into lovingly creating her characters, giving an identity and story to even the smallest inhabitants of the imagination, it's no surprise that Jessie thrives on the way her work has connected with people on such a personal level: "I believe that everyone has the ability to create art. To know that my artwork has inspired even just one person to keep drawing and creating is so rewarding and satisfying."

Make that two people, Jessie. Thank you for inspiring me too! See more of Jessie's art in her shop on Etsy.

Stories have such awesome power to create connections among us, to encourage us, to change us. And sometimes our stories are magical, filled with imagination and wonder.

Link up and share a story of your own!

What is your version of what Jessie calls the dream to "ride dragons?" What kind of "magical" realms does your imagination like to visit for adventure and escape?

The linky list is open until Sunday . . . share a new post or an old one--something that shares an element of story with the medium of your choice--paint, a photo or two, words (Find the "about" page here.)

Once you link up,
1. Leave a comment to thank Jessie for sharing her story, and to let me know you've added a link.
2. Please take 15 minutes to read and support a few of the other storytellers linking up before you.
3. Kindly grab one of the Storytellers button on my right sidebar or link back in your post!

Happy Storytelling!

STORYTELLERS: If These Walls Could Talk

2011-11-08T17:14:00.003+01:00

Have you ever had the feeling that a certain place held so many memories, the walls were nearly trembling with secrets kept and stories untold? Places stand tall and still, watching silently as we fill up the pages and chapters in the stories of our lives.

The world is a construction--very real and tangible, but only a stage for the souls that traverse it. But these constructions are saturated with memory. The older the place, it seems the louder is the echo of these souls from lives that have passed this way before us. I'm not really talking about ghosts, but about the feeling that a place can remember--like our bodies, walls and earth and trees and air can hold the skin-memories of pleasures and pains past.

I think about the cracks and scars in paint, brick and mortar.

I imagine the the fist that pounded a door in anger;

the face leaned against the cool of plaster to calm a fluttering heart;

the nose pressed against the window, longing for a blessed return;

the feet that wandered unfamiliar streets, longing for home;

the palm that lightly brushed the railing in admiration and disbelief, savoring a dream come true.

Like lines on our foreheads, between and at the corner of our eyes,

the wear on these walls is evidence of lives lived in wonder and worry, laughter and tears.

The mess is beautiful to me--the patina of time. And I pray that sweet time will allow me also to appreciate the "patina" of my own body, as even at 30 I slowly begin to notice the aging, and to look upon the future as a gathering richness of memories old and yet to be made. For our stories mingle together and lives past live on in our own lives--in our hearts and all around us.

* * *

Next week I have a fresh artist interview to write about, but today I wanted to share some of the photos I finally finished working on with all the delicious texture that I promised to share from our visit to Wismar, East Germany at the beginning of October. The peeling paint and crumbling brick captured me . . . I see lots of these as "backgrounds" for some stories told in mixed-media collage. Can you see the place where there should be a "face" in the photo above? Don't yet know how or what, but I'm thinking about a new collection of artwork!

Stories have such awesome power to create connections among us, to encourage us, to change us. And I think our stories linger in the air long after we are gone. What do you think about the memory of "place?" Do the walls sometimes whisper stories to you? Link up and share a story of your own!

The linky list is open until Sunday . . . share a new post or an old one--something that shares an element of story with the medium of your choice--paint, a photo or two, words (Find the "about" page here.)

Once you link up,
1. Please take 15 minutes to read and support a few of the other storytellers linking up before you.
2. Kindly grab one of the Storytellers button on my right sidebar or link back in your post!

Happy Storytelling!

Art Makeover Fun with Photoshop

2011-11-04T16:24:00.004+01:00

It was more fun with Photoshop this week as I re-worked or "made-over" some paintings so I can offer different color options of the same piece. I love drawing and painting (I feel lost if I haven't gotten messy and made something with my hands in a while) but working digitally--tweaking colors, making collages, processing photos--is so fun and satisfying because of how quickly you can try out new things, easily change something you don't like and see a "finished" product. And it's simple and clean--a nice, quick creative "fix" when the kiddos are resisting naptime . . . and bedtime . . . when everyone in general is not sleeping much at all and there's little quiet time for dragging out the elaborate creative projects!

My mother-in-law is a warm-color person, while I am usually a cool-color person and favor tones of blue in my work. But she's always saying to me that blue is so "cold," so I decided to see what happened when I tried to warm things up a bit. When I ended up with these rich fall colors of apple, plum, cinnamon and gold, I have to admit that I almost love my "harvest" version of "Words Like Feathers" better than the original! And I thought this would be the perfect entry for Illustration Friday this week, where the theme is "stripes." I had so much fun with the stripes in this painting that now I find myself leaning toward using stripes in every new painting!

And you can see that I was still into the "linear" theme when I made this piece shortly after. The original bird-in-hands is blue, but I adjusted the hue and added an almost transparent layer of gold to come up with this beautiful red.

Then I decided to turn it into a Christmas card and wanted a background richer than white. So I de-saturated a watercolor background, gave it a gold-brown tone and added a linen texture. I'm really happy with the way it turned out! I think I might send these cards myself for Christmas this year. You can see them in my Etsy shop here.

Now I'm off to sketch with an actual pencil. Last night I got so wrapped up in designing a new piece that when I looked in the mirror I saw that I had graphite smudges all over my face! Does this ever happen to you? I love when it happens, actually--it's almost as if your creative passion has become tangible and you can see it smeared all over your face! :)

Wishing you (and all my friends linking up at Studio JRU and Paint Party) lots of messy creativity this weekend,

Storytellers: Ordinary, Mythical Life

2011-11-01T18:29:00.002+01:00

"Our Lives are at once ordinary and mythical. We live and die, age beautifully or full of wrinkles. We wake in the morning, buy yellow cheese, and hope we have enough money to pay for it. At the same instant, we have these magnificent hearts that pump through all sorrow and all winters we are alive on the earth. We are important and our lives are important, magnificent really, and their details are worthy to be recorded."
--Natalie Goldberg, from Writing Down the Bones

For Texture Tuesday: Processed with 2 layers of "Autumn Burst" and 1 layer of "And Then Some"

The crisp fall air is alive with myth and magic. The changing colors of the trees makes life a tangible wonderland as shimmering gold fills up the windows and leaves crackle underfoot. Each leaf takes on a life of its own and is appreciated apart from the tree--but as a microcosm of the tree--each with color unique and veins like branches, beautifully aged with tears and scars.

I've been trying to pinpoint exactly what I want this "Storytellers" link-up to be. And I think Natalie Goldberg's idea might actually capture it pretty accurately: How do you make even your ordinary moments "mythical?" Perhaps the answer lies in telling the story. Life is what we make it--the way we preserve precious moments and capture the magical, mythical quality of even things as simple as leaves.

But before we can tell the story, we must look at life and really see it--record our fleeting glimpses of Heaven in our hearts and on scraps of paper with mindfulness and complete surrender to the moment. Because just as a tree is composed of leaves and a body is composed of cells, a life is composed of minutes--each one integral to the whole.

What do you think? I'd love to hear your suggestions. The "Storytellers" link-up was just an idea that I wanted to test, a way to begin gathering a little community that dwells on the importance of all the little things that add up to create a life. Even if you're not linking up at the moment, I'd love to get some feedback on what is it that might motivate people to link up in the future? I'm working on some ways to organize this a little better, maybe make it more specific--like with a prompt every week? A photo to write a story about or interpret through art? Hmmm . . . my wheels are turning . . .

The linky list is open until Sunday . . . share a new post or an old one--something that shares an element of story with the medium of your choice--paint, a photo or two, words (Find the "about" page here.)

Once you link up,
1. Please take 15 minutes to read and support a few of the other storytellers linking up before you.
2. Kindly grab one of the Storytellers button on my right sidebar or link back in your post!

Happy Storytelling!

Cardinal Red Diamonds: Painting and Baseball

2011-10-28T18:16:00.000+02:00

They're still in it!!! I haven't been following the World Series myself, just through Facebook comments from my friends and family who are BIG fans. I grew up watching lots of baseball (I played a little fast-pitch softball) and I am a Cardinals fan because it runs in the family--they're my Dad's team and my brother's, plus I'm loyal to my friends in and from St. Louis. This year my Dad and brother went to a game together at Busch Stadium--it was my Dad's first time ever, although it had always been one of his biggest dreams.

When I saw this morning that the Cards won last night and are miraculously still in the Series, I thought, "that must have been the subconscious reason I chose red diamonds for my next painting!" HA! I guess baseball's in my blood even if not always on the forefront of my mind.

I've mentioned before that painting is sometimes like praying for me. Well, I'm going to work on this some more tonight hoping they'll win the whole thing! Wish I was home to watch the game with my Dad...

This is a background for another vintage-inspired piece about creativity--I'll add a drawing of a little Brownie camera to it later. Right now I'm really just playing with color, trying not to be too precious. I like to see what happens when I don't plan too much.

I drew the diamonds free-hand (no ruler!). They are a little wonky, but I'm trying to be ok with that. Randomly added some wax on top of my rough graphite sketch--I love the way it resists the paint, and I love the way I'm always surprised by what happens because it's hard to tell where you've applied the wax since it's clear! :)

I wanted this to be imperfect with a worn, rusty, vintage feel. So I let the reds bleed a bit--I blotted some away when it was too much.

It's a little tricky adding in the contrasting colors--I was inspired by my blue teapot full of red daisies (and by the Cardinals, of course!) and decided to use blue with a little green--so it's very possible I could come up with some pretty muddy mixes since I'm working with complementary colors (red/green, blue/orange). But that's ok--I like the challenge of creating interesting and pleasing color mixes against the odds!

The Cardinals came back against the odds; I guess I can too! :)

Sharing this today with my friends at Studio JRU and Paint Party!

STORYTELLERS: One Year Ago Today

2011-10-25T16:05:00.011+02:00

“A children's story that can only be enjoyed by children is not a good children's story in the slightest.” --C.S. Lewis

One year ago today my husband and I boarded a plane for Germany with our nine-month-old and 21-month-old in tow. Looking at these photos today, marveling over how my girls were still just babies last year, it strikes me how wide-eyed and innocent their mommy and daddy were on that day too.

We were like a happier version of Hansel and Gretel--skipping off for adventure in a German wonderland--completely unprepared for how dark and scary and isolated the forest would feel at times.

We left to make a new home far, far away without leaving many breadcrumbs at all--we sold or donated most of our possessions and found renters for our house. We didn't even pencil in a date for our return.

And the breadcrumbs that we did scatter around in hopes to keep some sort of connection with our "other" home? A few boxes of books and toys and clothes waiting to be sent across the globe, favorite photos, quilts, dishes--just "stuff," some of which I treasure as reminders of the people and places I love, and some of which have become surprisingly stale--I wonder why I thought I couldn't live without them. And of course, some of the breadcrumbs were lost completely--a "most important" box destroyed in the post and only some of my art supplies recovered. I am a collector; I love pretty things, and especially pretty things that embody memories. But I realize now how tightly I was holding onto these things.

These things, these breadcrumbs, that marked the long path back home, are transient. They carry no weight in eternity and they are useless as landmarks leading back to the place where I most needed to return this year : to myself, to the valuable person that God says I am and whom He created for a purpose from the very beginning.

I couldn't follow that path back home anyhow, when I was trapped, like Hansel and Gretel, in the witch's house--a place of manipulation and lies. You know the place I mean? The one where you lose heart, give up the fight for true joy, and nearly consent to being baked into a lifeless cookie with a plastered-on-smile to adorn a crumbling gingerbread house?

No, the breadcrumbs couldn't help. But the people they reminded me of could. I needed Someone to give me the strength to fight back, to refuse to let the witch turn me into a lifeless shell of myself. I needed someone to rescue me.

Artwork by Eloise Wilkin

Ok, so did I lose you at the witch's house? The extended metaphor is almost exhausted, isn't it :). But during these painful times of homesickness and the exhausting questioning--"was moving here the right decision," and "what am I supposed to do here," and "can I just hurry up and get whatever it is done so we can go back home?"--it was my husband and my friends and my family who spurred me on with encouragement that countered the lies. With their powerful words--written in emails and spoken over the phone and whispered in prayer--God reminded me of who HE is and who I am IN Him. He loves me just as I am and even in my very worst of moments. He reminded me that He's GOOD, that He's my Papa, and that I don't have to have everything figured out because He already does.

I can trust Him completely, even when it feels like's I'm lost in the forest. It's just that He knows that sometimes I need to wander around in the dark for a while in order to learn how to let go of the things that are keeping me there. And to re-experience the wonder of the dawn. But He will always send someone to lead me back home.

Artwork by Migy Blanco

Thanks for stopping by today and for sharing my One-Year-in-Germany-Anniversary with me! Yay! There were a couple of times I didn't think I'd make it this far. . . and one of the things that helped get me through is this blog. I am so grateful that you take the time to read my ramblings and leave encouraging comments. Thank you. Also, linking with Imperfect Prose this week.

Won't you link up today and share a story of your own?

Once you link up,

1. Please leave an encouraging comment for this week's featured artist-storyteller.

2. Take 15 minutes to read and support a few of the other storytellers linking up before you.

3. Kindly grab one of the Storytellers button on my right sidebar or link back in your post!

Happy Storytelling, Friends!

Hangin' Tough

2011-10-23T14:49:00.006+02:00

I've been resting, really resting this time. I mean, I've been doing nothing (or, at least, what feels like doing nothing to me). I feel like such a hypocrite--musing on "resting" here and here last month and then failing so miserably at walking my talk. But I think I'm making up for it now--and I promise this is only just a tiny little break today from my long naps on the couch to check in with you here, my sweet reader-friends :).

So in case you've been wondering, I'm hanging in there--eating healthy, sleeping a lot, watching the leaves change outside my window. I'm also devouring every image and word in Painted Pages--the wonderful new book by Sarah Ahearn. WOW! Do I ever have some new ideas and inspiration!

And the best medicine of all? Snuggling my girls and letting them inspire me.

They are so creative--a few days ago Eowyn was pushing around this little toy truck, hauling a lacy bauble in back, and the pink against the green captured my imagination. But Penelope is really possessive of the toy cars and kept snatching the green truck off my worktable where I'd stashed it as a reminder of my idea for this still-life. So I finally found it again and got the chance to set up this "Girly Truck" shot today while they were napping.

I'm thinking of adding some text--"trucks aren't just for boys" or "hangin' tough...and pretty" or something like that. What do you think? Any other ideas out there?

Ok, I promised to make this short. Happy Sunday!

P.S. I'm linking up at Texture Tuesday: I de-saturated the photo a bit and processed it with a subtle layer of Kim Klassen's "Stamped Softly" and "Paper Stained" textures. Also, the polka-dot background is the inside cover of Kitten's First Full Moon by Kevin Henkes.

STORYTELLERS (Art with Heart): Charlene Precious

2011-10-18T16:12:00.002+02:00

Toronto-based Photographer Charlene Precious writes on her blog, "Each photograph, no matter how seemingly simple, strange, or ordinary, is tied to a moment, which is tied to another moment, and another moment, and then another – they are an endless reminder of infinite moments."

This is what drew me to Charlene and her work--this bread-crumb trail of moments that she leaves for herself and for us, documenting and preserving the journey she makes. . .

taking in wide open spaces,

winding through narrow, city passages

and splashing across sandy stretches.

Charlene lives by St. Augustine's mantra, "The world is a book, and those who do not travel read only one page." But it's hard to say where the story began. Charlene says traveling is inspired by her photography, and her photography is what inspires her traveling. "Both go hand in hand."

The story of Charlene's art is told by an eye that watches the world fly by through a camera lens. "Traveling year after year is my deepest, darkest desire," she says. "There is something about waking up in a new and unfamiliar place that is just thrilling. Traveling does something to the soul that nothing else can do and capturing the experience with a camera is an added bonus."

And just think of the miles that would have lain untraversed, and the moments passed without notice if Charlene hadn't "stumbled upon Flickr" in 2007. This is where the world of photography opened to her. Inspired by Page Traeger and Samuel Barr, among others, Charlene says she "stalked and admired their works of art from afar with this broken, envious heart."

So the full-time Marketer for Canon decided to take a step toward adding the name "artist" to her resume and purchased her first Camera--a Canon Powershot SD1000. She learned from the powerful point and shoot camera--her "teacher and companion for a time," and upgraded a year later to a Rebel XSI and began to build her professional portfolio.

But the real magic began in 2009 when Charlene started her photo blog--A Photo A Day--which she has kept "alive and bumpin’," ever since. The fact that the blog is something that "stuck" is a source of great pride for Charlene: "I have taken, or at least posted, one photo a day, every day since 2009. A Photo A Day evolved from just a fun Facebook and Flickr photo album into a precious photo journal told with words and photographs," she says.

The natural progression from here was the opening of the Charlene Precious Etsy shop. It was at this crucial intersection of making art, writing about it and taking the leap to sell it that the "Marketer" could finally see herself taking on another role as well--the role of "Artist."

And Charlene couldn't be happier at this turn of events. (Maybe you can tell by the happy pastel color palette of her photographs!) "Photography, blogging, and selling prints together have become the perfect platform for creativity and expression, and the trio is my single greatest source of joy," she says. The photographer continues to work full-time in marketing as well: "I’m just so in love with both worlds that I can do it."

Living a life full of work, no matter how much you love it, still requires a little rest. Maybe that's why her favorite things to see through her camera lens are "vast empty spaces like a big field, a meadow, grassland, or farmland." This is where travel comes in again for Charlene. "Road trips excite me because of all the large masses of empty land you pass while driving along the countryside and they look like they go on forever and ever," she says. And of course, she always pulls over for a photo!

Charlene has discovered that this love of wide open spaces is what seems to resonate the most with her customers--but especially the urge to "escape" into the vastness of the sea. "The ocean is vast and filled with mystery, serenity, and possibilities," she says, "making it a great source of comfort and escape." The photo, "My Heart Belongs to the Sea" is a favorite in her shop.

Other than golden fields and sparkling waters, some of Charlene's favorite places in the world and in her photography are in Europe. But Lisbon, Portugal is an especial favorite.

"Out of all the places I’ve been, Lisbon seems to be the one that left the biggest mark in my heart. The simplicity of the place really hit home," she says.

"It was beautiful in its natural environment. There was nothing flashy or vain to get your attention. The simple living, the run down houses, the chipping paint on the walls, the clotheslines outside their windows, were enough to draw me in and I appreciated it."

Charlene's clothesline photography made a strong impression on me as well--it's such a beautiful thing, to travel halfway across the world and find that a midst all the grandeur and glamour of Eurpoe, the biggest impression made upon your heart was the simplicity of everyday people living everyday lives.

And as much as Charlene loves to travel and loves to connect with that desire to "escape" that so many of us hide in our hearts, her work also expresses the beauty of contentment in the "right here" and "right now." Charlene's clotheslines provide encouragement in this expression of contentment--maybe it's the realization that the simple task of hanging out the wash can be artful and can make an important difference in someone's life.

Thank you, thank you Charlene, for sharing your story! Don't forget to check out the Charlene Precious Etsy shop and the Photo a Day blog.

Now it's time to Link Up with a story of your own!

The linky list is open until Sunday . . . share a new post or an old one--something that shares an element of story with the medium of your choice--paint, a photo or two, words (Find the "about" page here.)

Once you link up,

1. Please leave an encouraging comment for this week's featured artist-storyteller.

2. Take 15 minutes to read and support a few of the other storytellers linking up before you.

3. Kindly grab one of the Storytellers button on my right sidebar or link back in your post!

Thank you all for stopping by--having friends here on my blog is always one of the highlights of my week!

Happy Storytelling!

He who plants a tree . . . plants a prophecy

2011-10-14T23:51:00.002+02:00

I've been working in the past this week, remembering and re-claiming promises as I paint.

I sketched out these sweet little lollipop trees in watercolor and ink when I opened my Etsy shop in 2009. They were my original logo and shop banner, based on Psalm 1--it was a promise for ever-nourished creativity with growth and harvest to come in the right season.

My Eowyn was a newborn at the time, nursing on demand (i.e. constantly! ) and I wanted something to keep my hands busy as I sat there on the couch for hours at a time. Painting had been one of my cravings when I was pregnant, and I was delighted to unexpectedly still have some time to devote to it after Eowyn was born--Hubby was laid off that summer and therefore home for a few months to help take care of the baby.

He was such a natural at parenting from the very beginning--he and Eowyn had (and still do have) a very special bond that honestly made me a little jealous at first! No, but really, I am so grateful for that bond. Hubby burst into fatherhood as a knight-in-shining-armor: "Superdaddy" to the rescue! Eowyn was rushed to the NICU just 20 minutes after her birth, and Daddy rode along in the ambulance while I stayed behind to recover. He never left our girl's side during those first 24 emotional hours; he was strong and clear headed, talking calmly with the doctors and responding with great wisdom, while I recoiled in hiding: exhausted, confused, in shock.

During the hospital stay, Hubby could hold Eowyn and calm her in an instant, deftly navigating all the tubes and wires and monitors without a glitch; I always managed to detach something by mistake, triggering the alarm on her heart-rate monitor so the nurses would come running. And after the wildy beeping machines were calmed, it was sometimes the baby's wailing cry that was triggered by her helpless mama--she was being fed through a tube that nourished her but couldn't satisfy her hunger, and she cried when I held her close, sensing that I was supposed to be fulfilling this need for her! That was a difficult time, but it would make our homecoming even sweeter.

Slowly but surely, Eowyn's paralyzed vocal chords healed. After almost 4 weeks in the NICU she pulled out her feeding tube for the 14th time and refused to keep the nasal cannula in place, so the doctors finally decided she was ready for the test to see if she could swallow and breathe on her own. Two more days and they were convinced she was nursing well and gaining weight, so we were released to go home just before Eowyn turned one month old.

With the home-field advantage, I was able to settle into my role as a new Mama and to get over those feelings of clumsiness and helplessness. Eowyn is still quite the Daddy's girl, but she and I understand each other with an undeniable spiritual connection. And when baby Penelope, the Mama's girl, was born a year later, boy oh boy did I begin to fully appreciate the gift of that Daddy Magic that worked wonders on big sister!

So I re-worked the trees this week (I added in a digitally-altered, watercolor background that I originally painted by hand), thinking of our rocky introduction to parenthood and the promise of growth and nurture and cherishing that held true through it all. And as I painted, I found myself revisiting this promise that first entered my heart in 2009 (it's hard to believe that was nearly three years ago)--the promise that I would someday, somehow, also come into the fullness of my creativity and passion.

I know that promises are not forgotten, although they may linger in the fulfilling. And there is always testing along the way. The hope that began sometime in 2006--for the miracle of life and the creation of our little family--was fulfilled after three years and much heartbreak, then tested some more by the doubt and fear for our baby's life that sometimes haunted me (in what now feels like a short stay!) in the NICU.

As I work now with a passion that is curbed sometimes by a resurgence of chronic pain and exhaustion, I can't help but think about my feisty little firstborn, so full of life and fighting against her physical restrictions in the hospital. She has lived up to the name we gave her, our warrior princess who flew into her first battle just moments after her birth--refused to be caged by breathing devices and feeding tubes, and even later by a crib (she never slept in her crib!).

As strong as she was, Eowyn needed a little help at the beginning of her life. It was hard for me to accept that fact then, just as even now it's hard for me to own up to the fact that I'm not strong enough to handle everything on my own. So I'll humble myself and ask for some help. But I won't accept my body's restrictions on my heart, oh no.

And I pray that you'll throw off whatever it is that binding your heart today too, friend.

Remember (as Rain so eloquently put it here): we only wear our bodies--they are not who we are. And as we become "the shape of our souls," let us determinedly give thanks for the struggles and pain of this physical body ...because all seeds are planted in darkness before they burst forth with the blossoming beauty and strength of the tree.

What does he plant who plants a tree?

A scion full of potency,

He plants his faith, a prophecy

Of bloom, and fruitfulness to be;

He plans a shade where robins sing,

Where orioles their nestlings swing;

A burning bush - a miracle!

Who plants a tree, - he doeth well!

--Author Unknown

Linking up with my artist friends at Studio JRU, Paint Party, and Artists in Blogland.

Happy Friday everyone--I pray seeds of hope will root in your hearts too this weekend!

STORYTELLERS: Leaves Floating in Mud

2011-10-11T22:34:00.010+02:00

We walked through the park today, soaking in drizzle and golden hues of Autumn. Because my girls stopped to admire soggy red leaves, bigger than our faces, floating in puddles, I stopped too. And I heard myself say, "Why do we have to admire all the beautiful red leaves on the ground instead of in the trees?"

The leaves on the trees are still mostly green, some turning yellow-ochre, still a few brilliant yellow. I saw hardly any red ones still hanging from branches; instead, they were scattered at our feet, brilliant against the mud.

The beauty of the scene obviously made an impression on me, but in that moment, I whined: I wanted to see the leaves in the treetops, dancing in the breeze and glistening with raindrops.

But didn't I take this picture only days ago? And wasn't I the one who added that text to the photo--"look down!" Wasn't I the one whose fingers tingled as I tapped out that reminder, tickled with new possibilities of capturing on film the beauty amidst the grunge of life?

Where was my heart today? I guess it was down there in the mud with the leaves. And you know what? That's ok too. Because that deep, rich soil is where seeds of hope germinate in darkness. And seeds are only seeds because they are meant for more, just as darkness is only darkness because of the blinding Light that breaks through to overwhelm it.

THIS is why I create: to inspire others, to share joy, yes. But more often these days it's to inspire me, to remind myself of the good things, to shout Truth to Sarah in moments when she's dancing in the treetops, so that echoes of that Truth will still be resounding later, even if only in a whisper, when she's flat on her back, floating in the mud.

Would really appreciate some healing thoughts and prayers, friends. I'm struggling health-wise (which is something I honestly hardly ever admit even to my closest friends and family) and have been literally flat on my back for the good part of a week with a flare-up of Chronic Fatigue and Fibromyalgia symptoms. I hate to say those words out loud (or type them, I guess). But since sometimes I refer in my posts to struggles with inspiration or motivation, I thought it might be good to confront the reality of what often causes these struggles--which is me, not resting enough, not taking care of myself, not loosening up on this ridiculous pressure I put on myself. There it is in print--the truth. Your thoughts and prayers are most appreciated, and I am so thankful for this little "home" in cyberspace that time and time again, feels like such a safe place to work out my "stuff."

Do you have a story to share this week? Link up here to any post--old or new--that tells a story with words, art, photography, collage ...anything creative that has storytelling at heart. For the whole shebang on the creative community I'd love to cultivate with my new "Storytellers" link-up, read the about page here. And check back next Tuesday for a fresh new artist interview (I hope)!

I'm linking up today with Texture Tuesday at Kim Klassen Cafe--this is where I learned some of the new texture tricks I've been using with my photos lately. Today I used her texture, "Stained Paper" plus some other tricks to enhance the blue-green of the cobblestones. Kim has some great free tutorials and e-courses available! And the inspiration and excitement to try something new? That's coming from the amazing Creative Courage e-course I'm taking with the warm and generous Stephanie Levy. Registration opens soon (with early-bird discounts!) for the next session, which runs from January 9th - February 24th. I highly recommend it!!!

Goodbye Summer

2011-10-08T15:58:00.005+02:00

I know that technically, it's been fall for a while. And I am definitely a "fall person," more than a "summer person." But I am still in awe at the gorgeousness and the gift of the past couple of weeks--I have no idea if the Germans have a comparable term to describe what we call "Indian Summer," but I do know that this year in Germany was probably the first time I really appreciated it--growing up in the hot, sticky midwest I was always eager for Fall to arrive and just hated when the summer dragged on and on!

So although today is the perfect, rainy Fall day and I'm snuggled under my down comforter watching the wind wild in leaves still green but edged in gold, I can't help but think of the beginning of the week with a little nostalgia. The beach, sunny and warm in October! The waters of the Baltic were indeed cold, but I walked in up to my calves and helped the girls collect rocks and shells and seaweed. Of course, after the fact, as I sit listening to the wind and thinking of impending short winter days, I wish I had one more chance to soak up that sun and really be in the moment.

But seeing through a camera lens is sometimes a good way to be in the moment, don't you think? And Wismar might be destined to become a favorite photo haunt of mine. It's a university town only about 1.5 hours from Hamburg (we were there to visit my brother-in-law who is there going to school) with a small harbor and about 5 miles from the coast of the Ostsee--East Sea, or Baltic Sea. The timing and the light wasn't the best for good pictures of the water, and since we were there to dig our toes in sand I didn't do a lot of other exploring. But I did snap a few good shots of some of the beautiful architecture while wandering around with an ice cream cone before dusk set in.

My favorite thing about Wismar is what I'll call it's "patina"--not dirty or poorly maintained, nothing like that. Just that delicious feeling of being well-worn and well-loved, that beautifully "grungy" feeling of a place that has seen many lives and many stories.

I have a little collection of "patina" photos from our daytrip to share in a few days--gorgeous peeling paint and cracked plaster and crumbling brick. I've been so addicted to texture this week, and I'm learning how to incorporate it into photos too. This led to experimenting with some mixed-media collage ideas--photo, texture, text, paint (watercolor and ink in this photo). . . digitally combined (and hopefully, on canvas too, just as soon as I splurge on some new materials!). . . stay tuned for more! :)

Linking up with my weekend art friends at Studio JRU and Artists in Blogland!

STORYTELLERS (Art With Heart): Emily Wierenga

2011-10-04T17:10:00.009+02:00

This is the story of a broken road, a way made by grace (through the determined strokes of a paintbrush), and the creation of a masterpiece called family.

Emily Wierenga can often be found putting paintbrush to canvas or bending over the keyboard, painting with words. She works in quick, sweeping strokes of bright oil, gouache and acrylic as well as in raw, "imperfect prose." Emily says she is very "sporadic," since she must work around playtime and during babies' naptimes, even sometimes painting while her boys are sitting on her lap!

Perhaps it's these powerful, sporadic bursts of energy that allow Emily to keep her passion fresh and bubbling at the very surface of her creations, communicating an artistic and soulful authenticity that is engaging and inspiring. Paired with her words, Emily's paintings in bold, primary colors communicate what Emily calls "the brilliant hope and the marvelous beauty which we all long for."

From her home in rural Alberta, Canada where she is inspired "by the yellow wheat fields and the blue stretch of uninterrupted sky and the red barns standing still," Emily writes about the everyday grace that shows up in the simple and in the beautiful and even in the brokenness of life. Readers are drawn to her blog by this honesty and a community of bloggers gathers weekly at "Imperfect Prose on Thursdays" to share their own stories of searching for grace in the rough spots and imperfections of life.

While Emily's words seem to ache with the echo of a world longing for wholeness and for healing, they faithfully tap out a song of hope, telling true stories from her own life that testify to the beauty that can come out of the mess.

Emily passionately and unapologetically lays open her own life and invites other seekers--"those who long for heaven," she says--to find refreshment and encouragement in the tenderness of her art. Emily's story is full of pain. She calls it "a broken story, fractured by anorexia nervosa, mended by grace." And as a Storyteller who has worked through a lot of her pain with a paintbrush in hand, she shares a bit of that story here today:

"I painted this picture long before I wanted children. I painted it in the hopes of wanting children. For so long I hadn’t. It was something I’d told Trenton on our honeymoon, on the stretch of tent and sleeping bag in Halifax surrounded by happy people. We screamed at each other and I thought, "we’ve made a big mistake." For I didn’t want them. And he did. And he’d thought I had too.

And for three years I proved my point by starving myself until he told me I needed to choose: it was food or him. And after a moment of quiet I chose him and I started to eat. We moved to Korea where we taught English from 2-9 pm, and in the mornings before yoga where fierce Korean ‘ajumas’ did one-armed handstands, I painted.

I painted pictures of mothers and children and I begged God through the strokes to give me maternal feelings. For I had none. I was empty, I was selfish, I loved my solitude and my guitar and my long stretches to dream up prose. I loved drinking wine and staying out late and sleeping in.

But the more I painted, the more I could see it. The picture evolving before me. The picture of love that withstands bloody labour and sleepless nights and spit-up on shirts, the love that makes you rock for hours on end just to hear the crying cease, the love that causes you to look across a floor strewn with toys and unfolded laundry, to find the eyes of the man it all began with, and to say “You’re worth this. You’re worth all of it. And I would do it over again in a heartbeat.”

Because it is. All worth it. When the rocking ceases and the spit up is cleaned off, when the laundry is folded and put away, and you stare into the face that you and your husband created, the face with his nose and your eyelashes and your grandfather’s jaw, you know: you needed that scream in the campground and those years of starving and that choice on the highway and those mornings, painting, to make you realize that this, this breathtaking miracle, will always be your greatest work of art."

--Emily Wierenga

You are inspiring, Emily, because of your willingness to share your life so intimately through your art and words. Thank you! Read more about Emily on her blog and website, and view more art in her gallery.

Link Up!

Emily's authenticity continually pushes me to tell my own story with a share of the same passion and openness (the beautiful piece she wrote this summer, "The Work of an Artist" was the "story" and final nudge I needed to move forward with this "Storytellers" artist interview series I'd been dreaming of for months).

What is inspiring you this week? Link up and share a story--help make this space a community of creative-minded people and cheer each other on in the stories of our lives. Your story can take any form--writing, crafting, painting, photography--whatever!

The Linky will be open all week--there you may post the url that links directly to your post, old or new. Check the Storytellers Link-up about page for more information. Please leave a comment so I know that you've linked up, and don't forget to link back here in your post! There are colorful little buttons there on the right-hand sidebar for you to grab and use on your blog!

Happy Storytelling, friends,

Tag der Deutschen Einheit--The Day of German Unity

2011-10-03T23:35:00.003+02:00

It's nearly midnight here in Germany, but I wanted to put together a little photo montage tribute to Berlin before this Day of German Unity is over. 21 years ago today marked the official reunification of East-and-West, although the Berlin Wall had fallen almost a year earlier.

I took these photos a few weeks ago when some of my family from the U.S. were in town for a visit--we took a whirlwind tour of Berlin that I can hardly remember, but turns out I got some good shots that look mysterious and moody with the added texture--something I've been wanting to try for a while and finally learned a little tonight thanks to a 10 minute, FREE tutorial by Kim Klassen. I think I'm addicted...

And I thought I'd link up at Texture Tuesday to share my first try. The theme today is "Gratitude"--and what a perfect image the angel in the first photo is to represent the gratitude I'm feeling with the Germans today (even though I can have no real idea what it must have been like to live through such oppression).

For the angel I used Kim's textures "Stained Paper" and "Tainted Music"--the two textures available in the 10 minute tutorial--plus some blue sky from photos I took on the beach at the Baltic Sea this weekend.

slant of light-and-shadow distracted me from painting again

2011-10-01T01:08:00.004+02:00

"You need not leave your room. Remain sitting at your table and listen. You need not even listen, simply wait. You need not even wait, just learn to become quiet, and still, and solitary. The world will freely offer itself to you to be unmasked. It has not choice; it will roll in ecstasy at your feet."
--Franz Kafka

I've been feeling quiet, finding it hard to come up with something to say that encapsulates the happenings in my creative life this week. And it's not because nothing has happened; it's because there's a lot going on in my heart and I'm feeling a little overwhelmed! Plus, I'm afraid that despite my efforts this month to "rest" and still be productive, all four of us came down with a cold that required even more resting, this time without productivity. So I must say goodbye to September, the month I expected to embrace with the heart of a lion, and watch these last few hours fade to twilight with the quietness of a lamb.

"In repentance and rest is your salvation, in quietness and confidence is your strength..."
--Isaiah 30:15

Interestingly, I do feel power in this quietness. The Creative Courage e-course started this week with some serious journal exercises for facing your fears and defining your creative dreams. This is hard and emotional work! If you're like me, you want to accomplish the task in one sitting so you can move on and start accomplishing those dreams. But even big dreams happen in small steps. And the dreaming and the doing are both such hard work. Thankfully, Stephanie Levy's course even includes exercises for dealing with "dream overload!"

One exercise involves making a list of all the things you accomplished in a day--especially on a day (or maybe a week like mine) when it feels like you accomplished nothing at all! Stephanie calls this a "done" list, which should include all of the daily living activities and little chores you accomplished, plus any steps you made toward accomplishing your creative dream. With this list you prove to yourself how busy you really are and you celebrate the importance of all the small accomplishments in your day.

If I'm honest with myself, and if listen when I tell me not be so hard on myself, then I realize this: Sometimes the reason I feel like I accomplished nothing at the end of the day is because I was simply enjoying the day, enjoying life.

So what if I space out a little sometimes. Like with these photos. This week Hamburg has received the belated gift of summer, and when I should have been painting I was admiring the slant of light-and-shadows that fell across my living-room-studio, the way it illuminated paint floating transparent on paper, glinted off of bright, slim pencils gathered on my desk, warmed the worn gingham of favorite quilts almost new again, freshly arrived (thanks to the generosity of dear friends) from the U.S., and brightened the mess of colorful blocks, scattered across floor in a happy display of chaos.

"Creativity is God energy flowing through us, shaped by us, like light flowing through a crystal prism. When we are clear about who we are and what we are doing, the energy flows freely and we experience no strain."
--Julia Cameron

As I made my "done" list, I realized that "productivity" is such a relative term. In wandering around my sun-bathed apartment, seemingly doing nothing at all, I was really admiring and giving thanks for all of this light reflected in the joys of my heart and the people I love. And I felt home like I haven't felt in a year--both here in this little apartment and in my own skin that tingles and aches as I stretch for the stars.

- - - - -

Thank you, friends, for all of your lovely comments on my first artist interview this week! A few brave souls decided to link-up too, despite my very vague explanation ;). If you're interested in the new "Storytellers on Tuesdays" link party, please peek at the about page and please PLEASE don't feel shy about sharing anything on your blog--old post or new--that you feel has an element of "story," even if it's not what you consider "art." It could even be a single photo--it's up to you. I'm looking forward to seeing an encouraging little community grow here, people who listen and learn from each other's stories.

Finally--the giveaway news. Last Friday your insights and interpretations of my newest painting, "A Prayer" just blew me away! Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts. The randomly selected winner of an A4 print from my Etsy shop is . . . Kristin Dudish! Yay!

Thanks to you all again, and thanks to Studio JRU, Paint Party and Artists in Blogland for some great Friday link-ups!

STORYTELLERS (Art With Heart): Lisa Barbero

2011-09-27T08:10:00.005+02:00

Stories have such awesome power to create connections among us, to encourage us, to change us. I love the element of "story" in art, and I'm excited to share my interviews with other artists whose art-stories inspire me too. This first story is about believing, and a reminder that sometimes the biggest inspirations are the other people who believe in us. Prepare to smile. . . and don't forget to link up at the end!

Lisa Barbero decided in Kindergarten that she was an artist. But she says it took her "about 28 years to finally believe it." Once she did believe, her varied background of artistic training allowed her to create a wonderfully eclectic body of work--hand-drawn and digitally painted prints, vintage-inspired photography, and a new line of designer, hand-made jewelry--all sold in her Etsy shop and on her blog-website.

Inspired by the little things--including trinkets handmade by her children that she always keeps in her studio in Rochester, New York (little ceramic bowls and a baboon made of pom-poms, "complete with two little pink pom-poms on his backside!")--Lisa says her goal is "to evoke a mood or an emotional moment" with her art.

"My work is about the journey of life as seen through an emotional lens. Sometimes the roads I travel are dirty, sometimes they’re tidy, sometimes they are dark and dank, and other times they radiate sunshine." And Lisa likes to utilize an eclectic mix of media to document the adventure: "Thankfully, my creative journey has taken me down paths that have been painted, knitted, sculpted, and more. Acquiring these skills has made making what I consider successful art easier and more satisfying."

But Lisa's story is, of course, about more than her creative training. These days her "emotional lens" sparkles, more often than not, as her confidence as an artist and belief in herself have been carefully polished and shined to a glow by nothing less than the working of love in her life.

"While perhaps it would be more empowering to say I learned to believe in myself all by my lonesome, the truth is it took someone else truly and completely believing in me for it to actually sink in," admits Lisa. "The missing piece I needed to believe that I was an artist, was that ability to believe in myself. I was finally able to do that only after I met my soul mate. Cheesy right? Well, it turns out that cheesy can beget happy."

And "happy" is the exact word that probably comes to mind when you see Lisa's artwork. Because love is at the center of Lisa's story, her art is all about the same sweet stuff--"life, love, and quite literally the pursuit of happiness."

She says she is a "100% a passionate and hopeless romantic"--but that she tries not to take it too seriously. Lisa's use of color reflects this playfulness in soft, organic blues and neutrals with pops of candy-sweet pinks and greens--the perfect tones for capturing all of life's rosy moments and the magic that can be found in the simplest, everyday things.

Lisa's work is clean and simple, fresh and contemporary--gently seasoned with humor and inspired by an honest-to-goodness, old-fashioned love story. And her hope as an artist is that her story of love can connect with others' passionate, fairy-tale dreams.

"I like to think that my art speaks to people on poignant levels where we all secretly want to be madly in love and immersed in the kind of timeless story of amore that dead poets only wrote about," says Lisa. "You know… that kind of love that simultaneously makes you feel amazingly alive and like dying all in the same moment."

But Lisa knows it's not always all about romantic love. "I’ll settle for making people smile every once in a while," she concedes. "I believe we can create or 'make' love every day with simple smiles and kind gestures."

To put the spirit of this idea into practice, Lisa gives back, donating a percentage of her shop’s sales to a different cause every month. And it seems only appropriate that after being included in a feature on a baby design blog, Lisa's custom prints--inspired by the idea to create or "make" love--would be favored by new parents who are decorating a nursery! "I am always touched to be able to be a part of the miracle of a new life," says Lisa, "no matter how small that contribution may be."

Lisa says that her favorite "places" in color are "where blue meets green." (I knew it. Lisa is an artist after my own heart!) She muses on how to explain this preference: "There is something about those two colors together that physically makes me happy and peaceful but I have no idea how to articulate why that is."

Let me see if I can articulate it for you, Lisa: maybe it's because blue-green is the "place" of hope, refreshment and abundant life. . . and because it seems that this is just the place where your heart and your art feel right at home.

Don't forget to check out Lisa's Etsy shop and to comment here or on her Facebook page and thank her for sharing her story!

Now it's time to share a little story of your own in the first Storytellers Link-up!

The linky list is open until Sunday . . . share a new post or an old one--we all have stories to tell, whether we tell them with paint, a photo or two, words. . . Whatever medium you choose, won't you use your art to share a piece of your heart this week? (Find the "about" page here.)

Once you link up, please leave an encouraging comment for this week's featured artist-storyteller and take a few minutes to read and support a few of the other storytellers linking up before you.

And kindly grab one of the Storytellers button on my right sidebar or link back in your post!

p.s. I'm linking up at Imperfect Prose because I know my friends there love stories!

Blessings like the rain (and yes, it's raining now, even on a sunny day in Hamburg!),

Sending a Heart-song into the Heavens

2011-09-23T21:59:00.005+02:00

The ability to create is a gift in itself, and for me, is also one way I can continually give my heart back to my Creator. Painting is like prayer; sometimes it is prayer. Praying with my hands and my eyes, sending my heart-song into the Heavens even when there are things I can't understand and when I have no words--and trusting those Strong Hands to hold my trembling heart and to unlock, a little at a time, the mystery and purpose that lie in struggle and pain.

I've been laboring with love on this bird-in-hand painting--"A Prayer"--for a while (wrote about it as a work-in-progress here) and finally "finished" it last night! Well, the original is technically still in-progress--I loved the idea of a simple white background, but I am rarely capable of leaving anything plain and white! So I photographed the painting before I added a background color so that I could preserve this simpler version of the piece. I love the softness of the organic tones, even though it was hard for me to hold back on my usual leaning toward bold colors! When I added an olive green background, I discovered that I needed to re-work the colors of the bird a bit. So am very happy that I did decide to capture the way the piece looked with the plain white background!

The bird's tag was blank for a long time--I had so many ideas for what the tag could say and couldn't make up my mind. And then I ran across the heart--one of the first doodles I sketched (and the beginning of my obsession with this rusty burnt-sienna tone of India ink!) when I started painting again in March after almost a year off--and something finally "clicked." I love when things come together like this, don't you? In a way you never expected but seems as if it was always meant to be. I added the heart digitally, and am excited about the many other possibilities of customizing the tag for friends who purchase the print from my shop!

I was meditating on several layers of meaning as I created this piece. The initial inspiration was thinking about friends who are in various stages of the adoption process. I thought of this painting as a visual prayer for the safety and protection of precious little ones in need of a mommy and daddy, hoping they fly quickly and safely home into waiting arms. But I won't unpack all the layers of meaning here because I would love to hear what meaning you see in this piece! Won't you drop me a line and tell your version of the story? There's a giveaway at stake! Leave a comment this week and next Friday I'll randomly choose one blog-friend to receive a free print! Yay!

And speaking of stories . . .

I've been working on a new project--a series called "Storytellers" where I will feature a different artist every Tuesday and share about how story plays a role in their art... and how art has plays an important part in the story of their lives.

In addition to the weekly feature, "Storytellers on Tuesdays" will also include a link party for sharing about the ways in which art and creativity intersect with the stories that are happening inside of us and all around us everyday. I do hope you will join me on Tuesday for my first artist interview, and I would love for you to link up and share a story too!

Until then, wishing you blessings
(like the Hamburg rain!)--

Linking with my friends at Studio JRU and Paint Party!

Last fall I fell in love with Germany

2011-09-21T17:18:00.002+02:00

Fall is my favorite, favorite, favorite! I always start feeling nostalgic this time of year and begin to crave chai lattes and the scents of pumpkin, cinnamon and smoke from a wood-burning fireplace.

But this Fall it's more than that. Last year at this time we were in the middle of our final week packing up our life in Colorado. One month later we flew "home" to Germany for the first time. And what I call my little "urban-forest" town on the moors at the northern edge of Hamburg was maybe the most beautiful picture of Fall that I have ever seen!

Although this past year has been really hard in some ways and my relationship with Germany a bit rocky, Fall is wooing me once again and reminding me of how I fell in love-at-first-sight with this place.

P.S. I must announce that this year we can wander around and enjoy the gloriously gloomy weather while staying warm and cozy inside transportation that has a heater and four wheels! Although I am grateful for the character-building adventure that was the year-without-a-car (and trimmer from all the stroller-pushing and bicycle-riding!), what a blessing it is to drive das Auto sometimes instead of schlepping the girls around in the cold and the rain!

Weathering the Storms of Creativity

2011-09-10T00:35:00.003+02:00

I know, I wrote a few days ago that I was going to rest. That I needed to rest. Several of you commented that resting is hard for you too. So I'm wondering, how important is rest to your creative process, and how do you do it? My rest this week has consisted of lounging on the couch submersed in my tea and in a pile of books like I haven't been since before my girls were born--but somehow, I've been accomplishing a lot of tangible, practical things too!

I think the key is that my attitude has been one of rest and relaxation--truly enjoying the simple things in my day with no pressure to "get things done." This seems to free me up on the inside and helps me to focus, instead of running around crazy inside my head during the few quiet hours in my day. When I am calm and thoughtful, instead of overwhelmed by everything I need to get done . . . I realize that I actually got some things done! And without feeling like I was doing anything at all!

Creativity can be such a delicate thing, can't it? Powerful and all-consuming at times, like a storm overtaking every thought and breath. But at other times inspiration seems to shimmer like a mist that you can see only if you look at it kind of from the corner of your eyes while squinting. Or like a dream that you can only remember when you stop trying to remember.

Carl King says that Creativity has an "evil twin" called "Destructivity"--the "imagination gone wrong" and "used as a movie theater that plays an endless loop of worthless sounds and images"--those depressing thoughts of never finding success, not feeling like your work is valuable, wondering if you even have anything important to say. (From So, You're a Creative Genius . . . Now what?--a simple, practical, sarcastic, and kick-you-into-gear book that is hilarious and also offers some surprisingly deep, even spiritual wisdom for artists who want to focus their creativity into a career.)

I'm learning this week that the key to avoiding these destructive patterns is REST. I find that my creative heart is so susceptible to frustration and discouragement when I am packing my time full of "chores" and pressuring myself to produce, produce, produce, not giving the Spirit enough room to inspire dreams and experiments and yes, even tangents.

I'm learning that "resting" is really "trusting"--keeping the faith that this creative life is about something bigger than to-do lists and business plans. It's about something bigger than success as it is measured by any amount of sales or money in the bank.

Living this creative life is a fight--a determined fight to find the good even on a bad day, and to give thanks for the beauty that can come out of even some of the most difficult circumstances. It's a fight against those destructive lies that seem especially intent upon plaguing the hearts of those who use their hands to craft artful outpourings of the Love that is written in the stars.

All of us can live the creative life in one form or another, even if we never have our fingers covered in paint or tangled in yarn or picking out chords on ivory keys. Living is creative--simply breathing in and out with determined hope that we can make the world a better place just by seeing it with love in our eyes and by thankfully accepting it as a gift that represents only a fraction of Ultimate Love.

linking with friends at Studio Sneak Peek, Paint Party, and Artists in Blogland...

The Colors of Rest

2011-09-04T21:40:00.008+02:00

I feel like I need to REST. This was on my heart all last week and here it is, Sunday, the day of rest, and I'm still resisting.

No, I take that back. I did take a three-hour nap yesterday! I don't think I did any work other than to straighten up the apartment a bit. And today we were lazy--lounged on the sofa with our coffee, listening to music and reading books to the girls. Watched a couple of movies. Talked a lot.

I've been trying to rest physically, but it is in my heart that I'm still resisting. The truth is that I just don't really want to rest! And what is rest, anyway? Even in my leisure activities, I'm always thinking about everything I want to get done--my Dad, Step-mom and Step-sister will be here in just a week (YAY!!!) for a wonderful and much-anticipated, week-long visit! And the apartment is so not ready. I'm still going to German class everyday, plus diligently working to paint and to blog several days a week and slowly to build up my Etsy shop. And of course, there are those two adorable little tornadoes-in-pigtails who I do my best to keep up with . . . Who has time to rest??!!

But the voice in my heart continues to stir, whispering, "You do."

So I dabbled in my paints today, "resting" in cool watery blues and sunny yellows as I listened to a message online from my church in Colorado about how God is like a river--more specifically, how His justice flows like a river. The pastor sat out in a cold mountain stream and pointed to the water, how it rushed around the rocks and boulders. He said that even though sometimes it looks like a river changes its course to navigate around rocks and earth, the power of the river is undeniable; in the end, the river always wins. The rocks become smooth and worn over time, the landscape changes as the earth erodes under the water's constant ebb and flow. The Lord has things under control--both in my little life and in this big crazy world. His goodness will ultimately prevail, even though sometimes change comes in small, incremental steps that we may hardly notice.

"I am the Lord your God

who teaches you what is best for you,

who directs you in the way you should go.

If only you had paid attention to my commands,

your peace would have been like a river,

your well-being like the waves of the sea."

Isaiah 48:17-18

We humans get pretty set in our ways! I know I do. It's almost as if I would rather be frazzled and desperately clinging to what little control I have, than to slow down and watch how things fall into place when I finally release control.

This week I want to let "peace like a river" have it's way with me, to abandon my busy-ness and let the River smooth my rough edges. I have to admit that if I resist the call to rest now, I might get too run-down and somehow be forced to rest later! And I will cling to my sunny-yellow hope that just maybe the rest that is calling me now is preparation for amazingly productive work to come! So many times in this life of faith these paradoxes prove true: to gain life, I must lay it down; to achieve my hopes and dreams, sometimes I must rest and wait, even at the very time when focused, hard work makes more sense.

I'm going lay down the need to be efficient and productive this week. Instead, I'll be soaking in some beautiful stories, doing some restful and reflective writing, and of course, splashing around a little paint while I take time to enjoy my family! And I will have a couple of new projects to share here on my blog when I check-in again in a week or two!

Wishing you rest in the peaceful blue of the River, my friends, and sunny-yellow hope even as summer begins to fade into fall . . .

Another way I'm "resting": linking up and enjoying all the beautiful photos this week at Communal Global, Weekly Kodachrome, and My 3 Boybarbarians!

The Rescue: A Painting + Real-Life Heroes

2011-09-01T17:03:00.004+02:00

For years, a couple of my closest friends have had especially heavy hearts for the women and children enslaved by the human trafficking trade. They have not turned their faces away from the ugliness of this world-wide and hushed up horror, but have spent time learning and praying, allowing their hearts to be broken as they open their eyes to the truths of this evil.

And on more than one occasion, I've heard my friends wish to do more than pray or write letters or give financially (all really good things!). They are admirably strong and feisty women, who really want to be part of rescuing the people who have been manipulated and kidnapped and sold into the sex trade--to be instruments of the kind of unselfish love these victims may have forgotten even exists.

Recently, one of my friends finally got her opportunity--she now volunteers for an organization that works to help women get out of the human trafficking industry and then cares for them afterward, helping them to slowly adjust to a new life of freedom outside of the brothel. And when I say they work to help women get out, I mean that they literally go into the brothels, seeking to rescue the ones who are being held against their will and providing prayer and friendship for the ones who are there willingly.

WOW, right?

I don't have nearly the right words to advocate joining the war against human trafficking. I cannot even comprehend this evil, and I'm not sure that I'm ready to.

But I do know that I am so honored to call these beautiful women my friends--the ones who refuse to look away from the horror, the ones who pray for their hearts to be broken for the victims of the unspeakable ways in which humans are mistreating other humans, the ones who have caused me to stop gawking and to start praying when I see the young prostitute who lives on my street. I am so thankful for the ones who are fighting-mad and ready to get in there to battle the ugly with their own two hands, knowing all the while that their hearts and their minds will never be the same, that they might never know the same peace on this side of Heaven . . . and knowing that after all that they've witnessed, their biggest battle will be the one to forgive.

And so I paint. Because sometimes words just aren't enough. Though I know I am so small, and my painting so childlike as I sit here in my safe and sunny apartment, where my blissfully innocent little girls and I can come and go as we please with never a fear of being used or mistreated . . . it is still my prayer that Love flows through my brush and in some way, encourages both the rescuers and the ones who need rescuing. (See this painting as a work-in-progress here or purchase a print from the shop.)

Because really, isn't that all of us at one point or another in this crazy world?

Interested in learning more about the movement against Human Trafficking? Check out these links:

World Vision's Advocate Network
Redeemed Ministries
I Empathize
Love 146

Also joining Imperfect Prose, Studio Sneak Peek, and Paint Party.

Studio Sneak Peek: Inspired by Graffiti

2011-08-27T15:42:00.004+02:00

Exactly two more months to go until I can say that I've lived in Germany for one year! My art seems to have become much less "tame" since we moved here. I find that I often feel much less inhibited and am not afraid just to splash and splatter the paint, even if I do end up just making a mess.

The painting I've been finishing up this week is a nice balance between chaos spilling over and an energizing peace swooping in to make sense of the mess. The chaos reminds me of graffiti, perhaps was inspired by the graffiti I see everyday in my urban environment, the graffiti that I have slowly become to accept and even appreciate as part of the "experience" of living in a big city.

I love the contrast of linear urban structures of brick and cement covered in wildly growing ivy and graffiti, the wild outpourings of nature and the creative release of sometimes troubled but still-expressive human hearts. It is a part of the world's story of making order of chaos, clinging to hope in the midst of despair.

These are photos of what I would call "amateur" graffiti on a very minor scale. Our city is on the quieter northern edge of Hamburg, so while you can still see it everywhere, the graffiti is a little thin here. But when I walk or ride my bicycle past this parking garage and through the overpass, I often think of my former self, the me who once said that I didn't think I could move to Hamburg because the graffiti bothered me that much. Of course, it wasn't only the graffiti--it was also the lack of sunshine, the cold winters, the scarcity of truly delicious hamburgers in Hamburg (ironic, don't you think? :)).

When in 2007 hubby and I first began the more serious discussion of possibly moving to Germany, I had come to the conclusion that I just couldn't do it. Basically, I wasn't ready to give up the coziness and safety of our adopted "hometown" near Denver--the one with the beautiful mountain views and the picturesque daily life of morning coffee with one of my best friends (who literally lived just down the street at one point), afternoons of uninterrupted painting with the cool Colorado breeze blowing through the screen door, the occasional bike ride to the library or antique store in old downtown, quiet evenings reading or watching a movie with hubby.

Living in Germany might sound "picturesque" to lots of people--and sometimes it is. But for me, I had already found my "ideal" little life, and I really liked it that way! Add in two beautiful little girls who arrived one-after-the other in 2009 and 2010 and life became even sweeter (minus the uninterrupted afternoons of painting and the quiet evenings snuggled up reading with hubby, of course)! But we felt called to step out of our comfort zone, to face a new life that would sometimes hold minor but difficult realities that I would honestly much rather run away from.

So when I see the graffiti, when I really look at it and hold it in my sight, I acknowledge the truth that a perfectly picturesque life is something that can't exist in this life, while still believing that beauty can come out of the mess.

Join me again in a day or two when I will reveal the finished painting and an inspirational story of people who refuse to look away from an ugliness much worse than graffiti. And click here for another sneak peek of this painting in an earlier work-in-progress post!

Update: I blogged about this finished painting and a couple of real-life heroes here.

Joining Studio Sneak Peek, Paint Party and Imperfect Prose.

Creative Gypsy Fire

2011-08-25T13:56:00.003+02:00

Today I am living this doodle print from Aimee Dolich of Artsyville, one of my new favorite artists!

I don't have school on Thursdays, so this afternoon I'm staring down a long to-do list, gulping my coffee and praying for even just a fraction of "supernatural" strength to get it all done! And just as I settle in to dedicate the next hour of my girls' nap-time to the (somewhat tedious) task of slowly adding more listings to my newly re-opened Etsy shop (the "business" aspects of art--specifically pricing--are simply NOT fun) I hear an unfinished painting calling to me.

It's been three or four days since I splashed and swirled my watercolors. I've been spending most of my free-time turning the apartment upside-down, trying to get organized for better cleanliness and efficiency (and hoping soon to share some photo peeks into my home-art-studio).

Now my drawing table is tempting me from it's new station directly in front of the big picture-window where I can see the dark clouds moving in while the trees dance in the cool wind, preparing their leaves to play the music that always happens under the percussion of raindrops . . .

"Business" will have to wait. I think in this hour I simply MUST paint.

And I will look forward to tomorrow, when I'll share more progress on this painting and the inspiration behind it!

Authenticity Part 2: Words Like Love

2011-08-21T00:17:00.002+02:00

I've been drawing and painting a series of typewriters in these last few months, thinking about different characteristics of words and how we live them out--how they can sometimes become life to us as they flow out through our fingers.

I scratched out this poem a while back; it is what initially inspired the idea behind my newest painting, "Words like Love":

As she typed, the keys pulsed

like the blood through her veins.

She thought and she felt and

she loved

with her fingers.

Wholeheartedly,

she always meant every word.

And the machine

was more than a machine;

it was the artist's favorite medium.

he responded to her touch

like a cherished instrument

and faithfully drummed out her song.

I'm sure I'll revisit this idea and subject matter, since I seem to be obsessed with painting vintage typewriters! (It's a shame that I don't own one myself...) But I'm happy with this messy, grungy art-journal style painting with the sketchy ink drawing, etched scratches, smudged graphite and deliciously joyful splash of red and bubblegum pink! Prints are available in my Etsy shop!

P.S. I elaborated (or rambled!) a bit more about what this painting means to me here.

Transforming Authenticity

2011-08-19T17:38:00.006+02:00

I've been thinking about the word AUTHENTICITY. About how to be authentic, especially because of this little bloggy thing here, because of the way I tend to lay out my heart for all who might care to see.

"Do not conform to the pattern of this world,

but be transformed by the renewing of your mind" (Romans 12:2).

When I think of authenticity, and even when you look at the dictionary's deifinition of the word, it is something that is genuine because of a consistent pattern of facts that prove it so. On the other hand, when I think of "conforming to a pattern," I think of a cookie cutter, which is not at all an image of "authenticity."

So the answer is, "don't conform, but be consistent." Could this be true? If so, I'm in big trouble, because I'm often all over the place, i.e., my free-write about the word "New":

-----

Sometimes I don't know if the words I have are the right ones. Sometimes I wonder if I even meant what I said yesterday, because the way I am living today does not look as if I believe the things I say I believe. Sometimes I want to just lay down my paintbrush and to turn off the computer and never paint or write another thing, because nothing I do feels "good enough."

Sometimes I find the words and I get chills because I know they are right. Sometimes I examine my heart and my thoughts, and find (with a bit of surprise) that I am perfectly at peace. Sometimes I find joy in the simple act of creating and in that moment give no thought to what the end product might be.

Sometimes I just can't believe that I am the same person I was yesterday. And I wonder what it is to live authentically, to write authentically, to create art from the place inside of my heart that is really and truly me.

How can I find what is really and truly me, when "me" is always changing?

And I realize that this is it, this is authenticity: to be constantly changing and transformed . . . by LOVE. "Me" is always changing, not because I am insecure or incomplete, but because I'm always seeking to be better than I was yesterday. Some days it works, some days it doesn't. And on the days it doesn't work, there is grace--and always tomorrow, a new day.

-----

Maybe the answer in all this rambling is that authenticity in art and in writing is simply to share life, scratches and all--to practice consistent honesty in admitting my inconsistency--in a way that is transparent and uplifting and points to LOVE as the only thing and the only person who covers my multitude of messy imperfections.

Lots of lovely links today: Paint Party, Studio Sneak Peek, Imperfect Prose, Five-Minute Friday

P.S. Check back tomorrow for the finished painting here on my blog and also in the quiet re-opening of my Etsy shop! I'll gradually be adding new prints of my work for purchase here, starting this weekend.

Schreibpapier

2011-08-16T16:12:00.008+02:00

A few simple tablets of lined writing paper, yellowed with age. To me, a vintage treasure, recently given to me by meinem Schwiegervater (my father-in-law). Hubby's dad thought my girls might like to color on the pages, but I snagged four of the five tablets with plans to layer them in art collages or in my sketchbook/art journal. The cover still bears the price fixed by the DDR: -- ,95 D-marks, which is about ,49 Euros or .70 cents. They sat in the back-room workshop of my father-in-law's little east-German jewelry store for 20+ years.

I love the idea of the paper just waiting there--through years of Soviet occupation, through the Fall of the Berlin Wall and the dissolution of the DDR, through the years my husband grew up there before his mom smuggled him and his brother to West Germany, through the year Hubby spent in the U.S. as a 17-year-old foreign exchange student, through the 9 years he continued to live in the U.S. after we met and before he finally returned to Germany with a wife and two little girls.

The paper waited there, forgotten for years. But I like to imagine it waited with a patient anticipation, dreaming of being re-discovered one day and loved by this little American girl who would turn the pages into art.

Linking up today with Communal Global for beautiful moments from around the world.

Lately in my Neighborhood

2011-08-14T13:00:00.002+02:00

Will you seek afar off?

you surely come back at last,

In things best known to you, finding the best, or as good as the best,

In folks nearest to you

finding the sweetest,

strongest,

lovingest;

Happiness, knowledge,

Not in another place, but this place--

not for another hour, but this hour . . .

--Walt Whitman, from Leaves of Grass

After my post last weekend, I was blessed with so many words of encouragement from my dear blogging friends! My heart has been uplifted, and I'm carefully, consciously, and joyfully living in the moment this week--letting the past be the past, and leaving the future to take care of itself. I'm finding that holding each moment lovingly in my hands is the best way to cling to contentment.

In limiting our minds to appreciate the value of this moment without comparing it to past expectations or to dreams for the future, we can intentionally retrain our thinking patterns, ward off discontentment, and maybe even find that we can't stop smiling as our hearts are flooded with joy!

Finding happiness in "this place," in "this hour" . . . are you finding it too? Have you "come back at last" from the worry of "seeking afar off?"

Joining Sunday Snapshot , Sundays in my City and The Creative Exchange for beautiful moments captured all around the world.

Magic Happens in Mundane Places

2011-08-13T02:05:00.004+02:00

The most inspiring thing I did this week was to re-organize some closets. Ha! But really, this IS sometimes pretty "inspiring" work, don't you think? For me, the discipline of clearing physical space in my home is sometimes the outward manifestation of things clearing up on the inside of my heart--emotionally and spiritually. It's stepping away from the wild child creative side of me to participate in a (somewhat mundane) but grounding household activity, to re-adjust my perspective a bit.

Are breaks like this an important part of your creative process too?

For me, making art is an emotional, sometimes all-consuming process; I often wish I could just turn off my brain! (I'm betting that it is this way for many, of not most artists . . .) This often causes me to over-think things, which gets in the way of experimentation and pure fun. I feel like everything I make has to be good and worth showing to the world--and I know that this is not even a remote possibility.

What do they say Thomas Edison said about failure? "I have not failed 10,000 times. I have successfully found 10,000 ways that will not work." Maybe, in the end, each of those 10,000 times of doing something the wrong way is so worth it when you finally figure out how to do it the right way.

The truth is that there are no mundane activities. It may not seem like everything--especially our "failures"--serves a purpose, but the important thing is the mere act of faithfully plodding along through the day-to-day. And more than that--learning to skip joyfully along through the day-to-day. Daily tying up the loose ends, cleaning out the "closets" of your heart, re-organizing your thoughts to be more efficient and productive in joy and in-the-moment thinking.

Because sometimes the mundane places are where the magical things happen.

Joining Studio Sneak Peek.

Fresh Salsa on Sunday

2011-08-07T21:32:00.001+02:00

. . . on

the table at the midpoint

of summer . . .

the tomato,
star of the earth . . .
sheds
its own light,
benign majesty.

happily it is wed

to the clear onion . . .
it is the wedding
of the day . . .

. . . the tomato offers

its gift of fiery color

and cool completeness.

from Pablo Neruda's "Ode to Tomatoes"
(Translated by Margaret Sayers Peden)

joining Multitudes on Monday

Wellspring

2011-08-06T12:10:00.005+02:00

Ironically (or perhaps appropriately), during the very time I was working on an image of the heart as "wellspring," a new twist on my hearts and tangles, my own heart broke open from the weight of lonely homesickness, tired-mommy-ness . . . and your basic, "grade-F" brand of pure "poor me" selfishness. (I wrote about the bad day that started it, and this painting as work-in-progress here).

Has this ever happened to you? You're mid-sentence, counting your blessings, when discontentment suddenly and rudely interrupts. I had no excuse, especially when this is what I've been thinking on:

"Keep and guard your heart
with all vigilance,
and above all that you guard
for out of it flow the springs of life"
(Proverbs 4:23, Amplified Bible, emphasis mine).

Maybe it happened because I was only thinking on these things and neglected to be vigilant. Because if you're like me, things like this almost always happen when you're least expecting it. When you've let your guard down. When you've become distracted--distracted even by good things.

Maybe it's because sometimes the downpour that tests our faith and tries our attitudes is simply the place where we must "live" for a while--it's a day-by-day (even minute-by-minute) opportunity to discover the leaks in our roof and to sure up our shelter against the next storm.

Whatever the reason, I think that torrents of tears and waterfalls of blessed joy mingle together in the "springs of life." And even as nations pray desperately this very day for rain, let us also lay open our dry hearts to be drenched in whatever downpour we're living in at the moment --whether in tears of mourning or tears of joy. For this downpour is the very place where our stories are being written.

May we be willing, one drop at a time, to be worn and carved into vessels of beautiful depth. For it is life and love that blossom out of the torrents of the deep.

Joining Studio JRU and Studio Sneak Peek Friday here.

How to Redeem a Bad Day (and an Overworked Painting)

2011-08-03T14:41:00.007+02:00

I had a really bad day last week. And even in the midst of it, I wanted to do something to redeem it, to add some sweetness to the bitterness. So I grabbed a discarded painting with beautiful, spontaneously created texture and I slopped on too much paint and too many colors and overworked it to the point that I thought there was no saving it.

It felt good and therapeutic to create in such a reckless way. To make something wild and channel my frustration into a mess of color and to feel satisfied with the process of expression, even without the satisfaction of a beautiful end product.

And then Hubby came home with flowers. Sunny orange daisies, soft yellow roses, violet chrysanthemens and blue thistles. I was struck by the way the colors of the flowers echoed the colors in my painting and I knew that even though it seemed this mess was beyond repair, I had to keep going, to keep wrestling, even if I had to scrape away a few layers to let the light back in again.

Sometimes growth is watered with tears.

So I painted some more and laughed as my littlest daughter ran back and forth from the kitchen, in-between bites of her peanut-butter-and-Nutella toast, just so she could wipe her chocolatey face on my skirt (in what I'm thinking was an 18-month-old's attempt to cheer me up). After another touch or two, I think this painting might actually turn out to be an odd little favorite of mine!

I thought of these joyful lines from one of our favorites storybooks, Michael Rosen's classic We're Going on a Bear Hunt:

"Oh oh a river! A deep, cold river.
We can't go over it,
We can't go under it,
Oh no! We've got to go through it!
Splash splosh! Splash splosh! Splash splosh!"

Take heart, friend! Whatever you're up against today, you can overcome it. But the only way through just might be to dance
in
the
rain.

Update: Read more of my pondering and see the finished painting here!
Thursday link: Imperfect Prose

Studio Sneak Peek: Hands to Gather Paradise

2011-08-01T10:45:00.006+02:00

I dwell in Possibility--

A fairer House than Prose--

More numerous of Windows--

Superior--for Doors--

Of Chambers as the Cedars--

Impregnable of Eye--

And for an Everlasting Roof

The Gambrels of the Sky--

Of Visitors--the fairest--

For Occupation--This--

The spreading wide my narrow Hands

To gather Paradise--

--Emily Dickinson

Why do we create? Why, after we have made something good, captured something beautiful on paper, on canvas, with fabric or on film ... why do we keep searching for more?

And the Big Question: when we feel a little lack-luster in our inspiration, why to we continue to use our hands to create, over and over and over again, until we get it "just right?"

I like what Emily Dickinson says about poetry--that creating her art is a way to "dwell in possibility."

Isn't this what artful living is all about? Living in a "house" of "possibility" with a roof as limitless as the sky; throwing wide open the windows to let the light stream in and opening our arms to welcome the sunbeams and other "fair visitors"--perhaps the very ones who can teach us the most of freedom and flight.

Whether we're writing or painting, cooking, homemaking, stopping to admire a "certain slant of light" (also a Dickinson quote!) and perhaps capturing it on film ... we are doing this very thing--

"Spreading wide our narrow hands to gather paradise."

Today I'm thankful for this gift of "possibility"--the way we can enjoy using our hands in imitation of our Maker's hands, to create a little bit of our own paradise on earth.

Have you thrown open your windows to "possibility" today? What gifts are your hands gathering in?

Joining Multitudes on Mondays...

The Itsy Bitsy Spider

2011-07-26T14:10:00.001+02:00

Today I added something, or someone, to my gift list, that many people would probably find a little creepy. Even hubby thinks I'm a bit strange on this one, but my daughters totally get it.

Today I'm thankful for a spider. More specifically, the spider that has been hanging out on my kitchen ceiling for a few days. She's moved from one side of the room to the other, disappeared for a day (I admit that not knowing where she might be creeping around did give me what my mom always called "the eebie-jeebies") and reappeared this morning.

Hubby went back to work this week after being in-between jobs for a couple of months. This means "back to work" for me too . . . working back up to being the capable mother and household manager, the one that I forget I can be when the Daddy is home to help. Eowyn and Penelope miss having Papa around all day too, so this week the distraction of the spider has been a God-send.

The girls love her, especially Penny. Several times a day she will drop what she's doing and run full speed into the kitchen to see if the spider is still there. At 18 months, even though she babbles more than Eowyn did, Penny has fewer words than her sister did at the same age--I've heard this is common for second-borns (why be in a hurry to talk when big sister can speak for you?) but in Penny's case it probably has to do with the fact that she started her "bilingual life" before she was old enough to speak. And children who grow up bilingual often speak later than their mono-lingual counterparts because it's a bit confusing to have so many more words swimming around in their brains.

But Penny does have a few words, and this week "spider" (sounding in Penny-speak like "pie-dough") clearly has been added to them. She runs her little duck-run into the kitchen, points her chubby-petite finger in the air, and declares, "PIE-DOUGH," her mouth wide open to match the amazement in her round eyes, like she's discovering the arachnid for the very first time. This causes Eowyn to come running, grab the bright orange broom, and try to poke at the spider with the handle.

Thankfully, she can't reach. So naturally, she gallops around the apartment, riding the broom like a stick-horse instead. Fearless and un-surprised by the joy that waits around every corner (or on the ceiling!), my funny little girls have no idea that their Mama stands frozen with caught-breath: I'm overwhelmed by how God has met my need for distraction and laughter this week with the timely and unexpected gift of a spider.

Joining...

Studio Sneak Peek: A Beauti-FULL Mess

2011-07-22T23:51:00.009+02:00

I've been tracing tangles and slopping on layer upon layer of paint--just making a bit of a mess with the delicious colors of citrus and raspberry and dusty bubblegum pink. It's like therapy, in a way, trying to relax and to "cleanse my palette" in between focused sessions of working on a very detailed ink drawing (that I will reveal at a later point) until my eyes cross.

I think I also must be trying to work something out in my heart as I paint. I can tell because even though I'm trying to have fun and to feel free, I still have this weight on my shoulder--the worry that this painting just isn't "good enough." And though my brain is full of ideas about what this uneasiness might mean, I'm not really in the mood to write today, not in the mood to figure it out.

But lookie there. The Gypsy Mama's "Five Minute Friday" prompt today is the word "Full"; maybe a quick little unedited free-write is just the thing to uncover the story here, to let it spill out. So here goes:

Hands full
Heart full
Head full.
What if my hands were empty? Would my heart be fuller still?
What if my head were empty? Would there still be someone there to hold my hands
and to fill with them all the things
that I would not know how to carry for myself?
What if my heart were empty . . .
An empty heart
is sometimes the cost
of hands too-full and head too-full.
And heart-full sometimes comes at a high price too
but brings value beyond compare.
A mess. Because my life is FULL.
Full of good things.
And full of the knowledge
and the marks
of many things difficult
and not-so-good.
But that is where the beauty lies--

Stop.

So that is where the beauty lies . . . and where exactly is that? That five minutes felt more like one. But now I've warmed up, so I will write just a bit longer. Even in a life filled to the brim with moments of surpassing joy and happiness, there are still moments of confusion, brokenness and pain. And THIS is where the beauty lies, here in this beautiful mess:

"We now have this light shining in our hearts, but we ourselves are like fragile clay jars containing this great treasure. This makes it clear that our great power is from God, not from ourselves" (2 Corinthians 4:7, New Living Translation).

God is in the good gifts, because He is the gift-giver. But the brokenness points back to Him too because He wants to carry this pain--to redeem it and to heal it. The NIV and other translations of this verse call it an "all-surpassing power"--there is nothing that He can't handle.

None of us can ever be "good enough." But the human race is a beautiful mess because God's not finished with us yet. He's the only One who can see the big picture--just like how I think this painting looks better on camera than it does in real life. He works to clean us up and to make us whole when we let Him carry us--when we hand over our worries and fears and pain and place it as stripes on the back and wounds in the hands of Jesus, to bury it deep in the empty grave of the One who is perfect and whole, whose only brokenness is his heart for the pain and the rebellion of the people He loves more than His own life.

Channeling my Inner Domestic Diva

2011-07-19T23:11:00.156+02:00

Right after I wrote (here) on Sunday about how my housework has piled up in the wake of a season of intense creativity and focused art-making, this "domestic dropout" was suddenly inspired to channel her inner "domestic diva"--I wanted to check if she was still there, to make sure she's only been sleeping and hasn't entirely left the premises.

I snipped ribbon and tied a dozen sweet little blue bows to finally finish the curtains I've been making for my girls' room. I organized their closet and patched a few holes in the wall. I made some yummy potato salad (how very German of me!) and cleaned the kitchen 'til it sparkled . . . with the help of my new dishwasher! I even accomplished the most dreaded chore on my list: clearing out and cleaning the refrigerator. This is why:

Actually, it was what happend after the girls picked the duct-tape "lock" and dug into the leftover cake that inspired the fridge overhaul. I was distracted for a few minutes and when I returned to the kitchen I found Eowyn in the middle of clearing out the fridge all by herself. She declared that she was making "sketti" (spaghetti, of course) and proceeded to crack an egg into a bowl of syrupy mandarin oranges. Since the fridge was already empty I decided to go ahead and clean it, especially since these two little "cooks" were, apparently, going to be dipping their little fingers in everything.

What a joy it was to be so encouraged by the antics of my toddlers. You see, part of me has been guilty wondering what they`ve been learning from me as I skip the chores and paint wtih abandon, "playing" just like a little girl. But even as I wonder what kind of example I am setting, they are still absorbing the joys of domestic life and imitating the efforts at cooking and cleaning that I do make.

Even more importantly (and the crayon on my walls should have clued me in to this), my creativity is sparking their creativity. This struck me with a near-physical weight as I watched Eowyn climb up on the chair I had just been standing on to take her own "pictures" of the collection of pretty blue ribbons.

I realized this: Whatever it is that I am accomplishing at home, and as long as I make time to focus on what matters most--acknowledging the beauty that is around us and adding to it--I am showing my daughters that there are countless outlets for sharing the joy in their hearts. And who knows better than children how to make even ordinary moments magical.

Joining Communal Global today--sharing photos from around the world.

The Birth of Creative Vision

2011-07-17T23:06:00.017+02:00

The creativity that has been birthed in my heart during the last nine months really has surprised me. Inspiration has overwhelmed me to the point that my pulse literally quickens when I get a new idea, and every one of my days must include some sort of sketching or painting or writing . . . or else I feel grumpy and sad. Creating has become a part of me, like my fingerprint.

I have been painting for years. But recently I have begun to feel real purpose and passion. The only thing is, and this is hard for me to admit: in the last nine months I have been demoted from Domestic Diva to Domestic Dropout. (Thankfully I have a SWEET and amazingly understanding and supportive husband . . . who has become quite the "house-man.")

As a wife and stay-at-home-mom of two toddlers, this intense desire, this calling I have to create feels a bit, well, anti-homemaker. All of my creative energy is suddenly aimed at making art, even at the expense of cooking, decorating, and yes, cleaning. Wait, that's not true. Most of my creative energy is aimed at mothering and teaching my two bright little girls. What's left over is aimed at making art . . . because playing with paint and ink and pencils is so much more fun than doing the dishes.

"Your creative spirit is very, very forgiving. It doesn't care where you're going, or how busy you are, or if the house is clean, or even if you're afraid. It just wants you to recognize it from where you stand today--even with the hectic schedule, the overwhelming moments, the worries, and the ever-growing to-do list. We must embrace the idea that our creative dreams can begin from the very place we stand today, not 'after this' or 'after that' or even when everything else in our lives lines up perfectly." --Kelly Rae Roberts, from Taking Flight: Tips and Techniques to give your Creative Spirit Wings

I'm struck by the similarities between what Kelly Rae Roberts says is the myth that our creative hearts must be put on the back-burner until all of life's busy-ness is sorted out, and the myth that you can plan and plan and plan to be ready for parenthood. I have a feeling that most parents would say that no matter how much or how little planning goes into having a baby; you never can be truly "ready" . . . and once that baby gets here, she needs intense nurturing and doesn't care what else you've got going on!

Life happens, and sometimes it's not what you expected and dramatically different from what you planned. God has a sense of humor and an uncanny way of surprising us.

I feel like I've been blessed with three babies in three years--two beautiful, real-life little girls, and one little vision of sharing my heART--a "little" vision that lately has also demanded a lot of nurturing!

"The cleaning and scrubbing can wait till tomorrow

But children grow up as I’ve learned to my sorrow.

So quiet down cobwebs; Dust go to sleep!

I’m rocking my baby and babies don’t keep.

- Ruth Hulbert Hamilton, from "Song for a Fifth Child"

While I do yearn for things to come back into some sort of "balance"--more time for the cooking and the cleaning and maybe a little decorating and renovation too--it is also a day I dread, in a way. I imagine that later I will look back upon these years as the season of "falling in love" with my daughters as well as with this boundless creativity and the One who inspires it.

And I can say, almost with certainty, that I won't remember the piled-up housework.