paint-block. poem-time.

i was going to say i should be painting

but i should remove the word should

from my vocabulary

i am writing

a year ago i started out on a journey

at once brave and foolish

for one can never know

just how ill-equipped they are

before stepping foot outside

and continuing past the comfort zone

if you knew the extent of my forgiveness

i might be considered a saint

but i also swear

and sometimes have

an unresolved heart

though i'm working on that, too

because resentment sucks

what if i just said

i love this life i love this life

over and over again

even when the shit gets tough

and i say i want to run away

i love this life i love this life

i will sit with what resides within

until i can seek outside interests

without going without

not even three months into the year and already a new word...

last friday, i was driving home from work, tired but exhilarated - it was right after stranger factory's first opening reception in our new space! my mind was all over the place but also aware and as cautious as usual. i was driving up a four-lane hill and needed to get in the left-most lane. i am always aware of cars i may pass or cars that are behind me and even though it was late and i hadn't passed any cars, i also always double and triple check because, you never know. i never assume i'm the only one on the road and i have a little routine that involves not only being aware of my surroundings, but turning my head to look behind before switching lanes (i think driver's ed sufficiently scared me into never, ever using the rearview mirror for lane-switches), and relying upon a little blindspot mirror that awesome papa put on my side mirror shortly after we got the car.

i was so SO grateful for that little mirror because a car must have hauled ass up the hill and was totally in my blindspot. i wouldn't have seen it in the side mirror, alone, and couldn't see it when i turned my head, but i saw it in the blindspot mirror and gave a little thanks as it passed me, especially since i'd just passed an accident a few minutes prior and and and. always with the reasons to be thankful....

the car passed me and i got behind it and because my brain pays some weird attention to cars, i took notice that it was a blue ford focus.

as i approached the street that i was turning left on, an oncoming car turned right and i found myself behind yet another blue ford focus, like identical, and because my brain is just weird, in general, i had a fleeting twilight zone thought, like, how could that car have been traveling ahead of me but also towards me and while i was reassuring myself that it was, in fact, a different car, i had a *lightbulb moment*...

pretty much f o c u s has to be the word that guides me through the rest of the year.

truth and i have gotten really close. in fact, truth will always + forever be my word, but focus makes soooooooooooooo much sense. in fact, the two work well together...so well that the following night i wrote down "truth + focus" and the fumblings of some other words that might someday be a poem and shared them with a progress pic of a new painting on instagram.

but anyway...i don't want to say i lack focus because i certainly don't but the only way i can accomplish all the things is to focus more or better or something...and i don't want to say it's a little bit scary, but it kind of is because in order to focus or to have focus, it seems one must also know what they want. it's true that for the past several years, so many of the things i set out to do happened, but still, many others didn't. it's also true that some of them were things i didn't actually want to do, or changed my mind about upon initial attempts or further reflection...but there are some serious things i want to do that i can't do without more focus...so, through the all the symbolism one can muster from metallic blue american-made cars (are they even actually made here anymore?), the universe has spoken.

focus, it is.

also.

some miracles have totally happened this year. like, in the last month, actually. SO MUCH STUFF.
i can't even put any of it into words right now, probably because i am still at the beginning stages of harnessing the power of EVEN MORE FOCUS and also because it's nearly 2 3 a.m.

so....
peace
love
rock + roll

\m/

oh, and sleep! i anticipate a more focused update soon-ish ....

year in review, word of the year, blah blah

the light, just right, on a pile of words

this whole year in review thing has been weeks in the making and i just figured out why...
i don't really want to do it. not in the traditional, wordy sense...

last year was t o u g h.
and awesome.
and just.

i can't even.

to write about it like i used to, to explain, in detail? so unnecessary.

i went back to my roots in many ways...i started writing. so. much. poetry. last fall. i needed to say things clearly and quickly. i needed to write it all down and i cannot even tell you how fast the last four months have gone by. i couldn't even begin to go back and highlight last year, month by month, because everything before august is just all the other stuff. the growth that's occurred since then has been organic, necessary, but immensely fast. put to the test, 35 years in the making.

i didn't even just save the hundreds of words i was
going to share instead of these ones.

that's progress.
deletions, letting go.

like, no fucks given.
let's do this thing.

it was the first year in many that i wasn't
dragging still in spring
carrying leftovers from
the depression of winters past

it was the year i learned what creating
boundaries actually looks like

after lifetimes of practice, it was the year i stopped
needing my mother's approval or anyone else's

the good i sought and the good parts
i held on to weren't a lie
but i was still telling the sad tale
and i didn't want to anymore

so i started writing and i finished looking
in those last journals, the hard ones

much harder than the ones filled with the spirit of my past
and the trauma in my dna
the truths that i have never denied

because they contained the truths of my present
that i did not want to see

it was the year i took to my own bed again
something i hadn't even had since childhood,
having had a baby or child next to me since that
first night in january when i came home from the hospital
with my first baby and put him in his crib
then started crying at how tiny he looked
there in the center of a vast and cold
plastic covered mattress, no matter that
his crib was outfitted with looney tunes
bedding i'd saved for, all i could think about
was the mattress and how could
i let this baby who had grown inside
of my sixteen year old body
lay anywhere but in my arms?

so, after 19 years of this boy next to me thing
i took to my own bed, in my boys' room,
and they're still next to me, but it's mine
and i can eat rice cakes in it if i want

it was the year that another one of those things
i wrote down over and over again came to pass

or all of them
all of the things i have written about have come to pass

it was the year i stopped being afraid
of becoming the story

i am the story
nothing but the story
and i'll call her
truth

it was the year i was able to say
you know that i am not my upbringing
and most importantly i am not a hypocrite
because that's what matters to me
and that's all that matters

it was the year i got over the one
having come to the conclusion
that he never could have loved me
more than i could love myself
which was not at all back then

it was the year i got over my marriage
which did nothing but mirror the black hole i brought with me
because marriage isn't a cure for loneliness
infinity times infinity is the same as zero

it was the year i came back to myself
stopped looking homeless

it was the year that people
once again took notice

i did behave in ways i could be proud of
and when i didn't it wasn't the end of the world
it was just another chance at this life thing

which is all we're here to do
we can't figure it all out
but we can be gentle
with ourselves and others

last year, finding a word, was hard
eventually i chose wild or it chose me
but in reviewing what i'd written at the start of 2014
i had written that free/dom was the word
and only in retrospect can i see how the
two were tied together, for i could never have
been free until i reclaimed my wildness

in this year, on the continued path
of forgiveness and being human
the word that will guide me is:

truth.

think about the children

let the world break your heart

get devastatingly broken

then get up
you can't stay there

i wrote that down a couple of weeks ago when i was thinking about how my current circumstances might have once left me in bed for days but, so far, have not. it's true that the last time my heart was devastatingly broken, i was in my twenties and now i'm a bit closer to my forties with more than a dozen years of trying to be zen under my belt. so while i can say i'm pretty sure what i've felt in the last few months has been both devastating and heartbreaking, i'm moving through with a bravery i didn't even know i possessed.

i am not afraid. i am not afraid. i am not afraid.

that is something else i've been writing down a lot, lately.

this isn't going to come as a surprise. it shouldn't, really. we had a fifty/fifty chance. same as anyone. but after three-ish months of what i called an emotional separation, the decision to divorce became clear.

it wasn't one thing or another but ten years of all the things and finally admitting that we veered off course a few too many times trying to meet each other at least halfway. we were always on different paths, often facing different directions. we lost ourselves in the process of trying to keep it together and manage expectations that neither one of us really ever wanted to fulfill.

recently i ran into an old friend. i congratulated him on his newlywed status and he mentioned that he was on his third wife. 

"marriage," he said, "is something i've never been afraid to fail at."

it was an a-ha moment. we hadn't failed. for ten years, my husband and i had done the best we could with what we had. we did our best and it wasn't enough and that's okay. we could put in some more effort. we could keep rehashing old subjects or addressing newer ones. we could probably even create some more. but it's exhausting. 

the day i verbalized how seriously we should consider divorce, i later came across this vintage-y metal sign. i'd always wanted something similar to a hand-embroidered "recipe" that long hung in my grandmother's kitchen and later in my mother's. lately i've also been more than acutely aware of all the signs and "reminders" i keep around the house and how i've got to be better about reading them and putting them into practice before letting frustrations and low-vibrational responses get the best of me. this sign wasn't romantic, nor was it unrealistic, it seemed like something our family could truly focus on throughout the day during this period of transition. i hung it eye-level for the kids in our dining area and i find myself taking pause in front of it several times a day.

i keep hearing these imaginary people saying "think about the children" and i keep reminding them that i have. it's all i've thought about. our children are the only reason my husband and i have stayed together this long, we acknowledge that. it took a few people telling me that kids know and it's way better to divorce than stay in an unhappy or unfulfilling marriage for me to admit that i used to say the very same thing, before i was married with children. for many years it felt complicated, selfish, and scary to consider separating, how could i dismantle my family just because i wasn't happy? it can be said that staying together for the children is a noble cause but it can also be more damaging than divorce. in the process of exploring my ideals, i dug deep and the answer was still that simple: it's better to divorce than basically uphold a lie out of social obligation. happiness is an inside job, anyway, but i had to really consider what kind of example i was setting for my children by staying and repeating the same patterns, ad nauseam. i don't want them to settle for less than they deserve or to think they don't deserve much, in the first place. i don't want them to be so selfless that they lose sight of themselves in order to try to keep a broken relationship together.

see next: it is out of love, not hate or anger, that we are choosing this path. a strong love doesn't meet all needs, it doesn't guarantee open communication, and it doesn't always look ideal. at the risk of sounding like a wimp, sometimes love isn't all there is, sometimes it doesn't have to be this hard.

of course, there is some sense of sadness and grief. it is most definitely a loss, if only of ideas and a promise made to our children, but there is a lesson in all things and the relationship isn't coming to an end, only changing. we will, of course, continue to co-parent and also co-habitate. we want to slowly transition into a situation that doesn't just work well for us, but also the boys, since they have the least amount of control over the situation. we're sort of making the rules as we go along, with as much peace and grace as possible.

and so it is.

"she'll tell you she's an orphan, after you meet her family..."

i am holding hard truths
with only my own weak weight to catch the fall

i get up and start over...

grandmother's love did not look like
homebaked treats and nourishment
it was are you hungry are you sure let's go get something to eat
and sometimes it was sit down and expensive
and other times it was gas station pizza

mother's love did not look like
anything that ever existed for me
it was you're not good enough what's wrong with you leave me alone
and sometimes it was pretending to care
and other times it was embarrassment

your love felt the same
another comfortable lie that this was safe
until the wound, in search of light,
could no longer be contained

.  .  .

an incomplete poem about an ever-pressing journey to self.

sometimes i just want to run away and never come back, find neverland, start over, as in books, in a new town. as if people can just slip into new lives...

i do all sorts of things to escape and all sorts of things to stay stuck, but engagement doesn't come easy. mostly all i can say is, "i don't know." but that's probably not true. it's probably easier to feign indecisiveness and certainty than the core of my own truth.

.  .  .

in other news, instead of doing something drastic to my hair, as i often do during times likes this, i'm undoing my dreads. it started out as a mess, friends suggested i just shave them off, how liberating it is to just cut it. i've been there and done that. valency saved the day by offering to give it a go and she managed to take my largest dread out without issue...after a deep conditioning, you can't even tell that all that hair was a tangled mess for the better part of a year.

i'm undoing them slowly and gently (got three small ones out last night) and finding the untangling process to be way more liberating. i'm not cutting loose of the pain and the grief, of the could-have-beens and lost causes, i'm sitting with and shifting through them.

every now and then i hear my mom telling her friend, "oh, she thinks she's dreading her hair." as if i hadn't just shown her the actual dreads already in place, as if i wasn't standing right there.

she also used to tell me i wouldn't like them. years before i went on my short dread journey, even. in honesty, i do like them (but mostly on other people.) dreads are more high maintenance than i ever imagined, pulling them apart was a bunch of no fun, and the lumpy, big dreads really harsh my shavasana and other yoga poses where a flat neck and back are crucial. and so on, with the logic...

i started this little dread journey out of love, as a way back to myself and while there are times when hacking at the roots is absolutely the most legitimate response, i am choosing to honor this current passage with a gentleness and patience that feels brand new. i am getting unstuck, and finally choosing slow and steady over sharp objects.

sunday reflection

remember the one where i was talking about how my dream job basically fell into my lap? 

and remember how i was worried that bad shit would start rolling in?

well it did start rolling but instead of dampening my spirit, it became the fertile ground needed to grow just a little bit more.

life is a constant state of celebration and grief, always fluctuating between experience and emotion. sometimes they conflict and it is often a sign of what needs our attention. i'm putting these words into practice: even in moments of grief and loss there can also be thanks, gratitude, and love.

life as a constant state of grace.

wild was my word of the year and wild this year has been.

the last six weeks were no exception.

i've been hanging on by the seat of my pants, acting from a place of love instead of fear, wanting only the highest good and the best possible outcome (but attached to none), ready to confront and heal what keeps coming up...

i found myself back on the yoga mat, answering, though still somewhat resisting, the urgency to get back in my body, to listen to myself and to stop ignoring my intuition. not just again but from now on. always.

today i am walking in gratitude for the friendships that provide just what i need, in just the right way. the created family, fashioned of broken bits, made stronger as we walk together in our healing work.

i am also thankful for the broken bits that fell away, as painful as it was or maybe still is. i am thankful for words and stories and the breadcrumbs i have gathered, for being brave enough to face the truth, even at the cost of people and places i have loved the most. it's the price of admission for pushing through and out of anger and fear and denial.

i  have some scars to show for it and my face is weary. the sun hurts my thirty five year old eyes and they can no longer see as well in the dark, but i hold fast.

incredible things are happening.

people are strange when you're a stranger...

i have put this blog post off for a few weeks because i'm not really savvy on how to share good news while life sort of goes on and not awesome shit also happens. i'll simply say this: since returning from california, all efforts to clear old patterns and old energy have been amped up, whether i liked it or not.

it's been worth it, though. all that clearing has made space for new things to emerge and the bottom line is: growth.

i realize i haven't yet shared my word of the year because even now, end of july, i'm still easing into it.

wild. 

it chose me and i played hard to get, knowing full well a word like that would not fail to live up to my own ideas about being more natural and unabashed, centered in truth, unencumbered by expectations. this year was about embracing and stepping into who i really am, okay in my skin, okay in my world. though it has not been without loss and as it goes on i am more and more convinced that loss should never be quantified. each grief is its own thing and requires individual attention rather than comparison and every ending also brings with it empty space waiting to be filled. that cliche is true.

it's how it works, this constant state of letting go...

when you surrender and get out of your own way, they say miracles happen. and they do, but also, in the middle of all those miracles, life still happens. you may receive confirmation that you're on the right path but may also consciously or not-so-consciously wait for the punchline, in which it will be revealed that the joke is on you. oh? you wanted this lovely thing? well, you don't get it, you don't deserve it, something bad's around the bend...

incidentally, as i was writing up this blog post, my middlest was watching a video and they mentioned cherophobia, a legit fear of feeling happy because you're afraid something bad will happen. this article pretty much sums up my experience with that, though i might also add that part of my difficulties around good news is how awfully people have responded to it, with insults or warnings or reasons why good things never last. through practice, i've gotten pretty good at accepting the mixed bag that is most days. some are full of blessings, some full of junk, and most have a little bit of both (and also, nothing lasts, that's sort of the beauty of it).

you take the good, you take the bad, you take 'em both and there you have the facts of life....right?

i'm down with change and growth and also to authentically experiencing joy in the moments meant to be enjoyed. so, life's happening, things are not under my control, and good things are afoot.

recently my work has also experienced a growth spurt, and as i settle, post-shift, i feel less all over the place. i've not been as likely to share my works in progress as i've been in the past, but i'm liking the quieter spaces i find myself in as i paint and move in a clearer direction. i have decided to start signing my paintings differently, as well, outgrowing what now feels sophomoric. there will be some sales and some giveaways as i part with old art, too, so stay tuned...

new WIPs and old works with new elements
all stages of progress

and now, drumroll please....

in getting out of my own way, my dream job sort of just materialized and fell into my lap. of course there was a bunch of behind-the-scenes action, as well, but through the magic of intention and the wonders of social media, i got a job at stranger factory, a toy store/gallery that's been at the top of my dream list since the wife and i went there on my 33rd magical mystery birthday tour. i knew i wanted to get my work in there but knew it wasn't ready at the time. in fact, even until, like, right now, i'd been too intimidated to take my artwork in and show the owners or director.

i wasn't even looking for a job but was looking at what i could do to generate more art income. i had a plan and some of it included things i wasn't sure i wanted to do and definitely didn't feel ready to do, like hosting art parties and developing an e-course, as well as things i was ready to do like seek out more local venues and galleries to hang my work.

i'm still walking around in shock and it's been two weeks. i really get to work for and with kathie olivas, her husband, brandt peters, as well as the super-fab, valency genis?!?! i mean! *pinch me*

okay. and this is just adorable...i stumbled upon valency's blog and her last post (a few months after i went in there the first time in 2012) just so happened to include her happy announcement about starting at the stranger factory, too! whoa synchronicity.

totally in love with this collab between kathie and valency.
and saving my pennies!

anyhow. yeah. wow. i attribute much of the legwork to valency, actually, and i thank her for keeping up with me on instagram (even while she was in the UK for a year) and putting in a good word for me. i am super stoked to be part of such an amazing group of creatives - the energy, the opportunity, i'm just so grateful for it all - life does not get any less strange and i kind of love it!

signs, signs, everywhere there's signs...
this is on the sidewalk near the gallery ! ! !

beginner's mind

last night, my two littles and i were discussing the idea of breath. i was marveling, first, at the fact that i'd asked them to take some deep breaths with me. and they did.

they didn't sigh or refuse. they just did it. they've done it before but lately it's not been without conflict or outright refusal. oftentimes we're simply too distracted to get still.

as we took several good, long inhalations we fell into such a peaceful state that my youngest let out a toot which i subsequently inhaled. fully. before i could even think to stop myself. oh the giggles that caused! even from me. for once, i didn't say anything or wonder whether or not i'd just fart-shamed my kid. i laughed about it. i mean, i did just read that sniffing farts can prevent disease but i'm pretty sure it was the actual breath work that helped me not freak the fuck out because omg i've been smelling smelly things that are smelly ever since my little brother was born and i'm over it.

after the laughter subsided, i started to think about how we take breath for granted. expecting it to be automatic, we often hold our breath without even realizing it. an awareness of our breath can reduce the impact of stress, but only if we really breathe. i know. obvious, but also epiphany. i took the opportunity to ask the boys how often they took such deep, cleansing breaths on their own.

my eight year old said, "when i'm reminded to."

"and how often are you reminded?"

"about once a week."

i remind myself to breathe several times a day and i remind them more than once a week, though, as i mentioned, we're not always receptive. if i had to guess, i'd say i only take deep, cleansing breaths about 1 time for every 6 reminders.

"what kinds of things could we do to remind ourselves more often?" i asked.

a circular argument ensued wherein my eight year old suggested that you just remember and then do it until it becomes habit, problem solved.

maybe it is that easy for some folks and i just muddied up his story by explaining that sometimes we forget the things we need to remember, especially when there's quite a few of them, so it helps if we have other ways to remind ourselves.

"we could write it down!" he said.

"good. we could write it down. i write stuff down all the time, in notebooks. then i close them and don't open them again until i have something else to write...how could we make our reminders more visible?"

"let's write it on our arm"

"okay," i said, "actually, i'll write it on my hand like a gangsta: breathe, muthafucka."

at which point, my suddenly very moral five year old says, "i don't want you to be a whatever you just said. you're not a gangsta."

"you're right...but," i tried to recover, "there's a shirt that says: gentle spirit badass motherfucker on it. i think of it often, we can be both. i mean, i am both a gentle spirit and a badass motherfucker."

"but that's bad," he said.

"the words can have bad feelings associated with them, but they're not bad, in and of themselves. one day you may appreciate that mama thinks batman, for instance, is a badass motherfucker and that's not a bad thing...but for now, i will be more mindful of my language."

i didn't explain to him how i no longer define things as good or bad because i embrace the way light and dark can and must co-exist. i know that buddha says we must be impeccable with our word, but i will probably always swear. some part of me, no matter how softened, will always be a little hardcore, however, mindful daily practice helps me act less out of guilt, and more out of a desire to best model what i want for myself and for my children. he is only five and all that matters to him is that i am his kind mama. right. now.

"mama? don't really put that word on your hand."

i assure him that i won't and then smile at my own beginner's mind. though i feel always-mindful of his sensitivity, i'd taken for granted his sweet innocence. it hadn't occurred to me that he would think i'd actually put a swear word on my body.

yeah. i'm not gangsta.

even though both boys are playing at the neighbor's, and it is mildly tempting to at least add "mofo" after "breathe," i won't even do that. i will keep my word.

i have been called to clear massive amounts of old energy (dare, i say ALL the old energy?) and today, especially, i am looking around my beautiful, cozy home with new eyes and carefully listening to myself, learning where i am still stuck.

"i might want that big craft table in my studio but it's so heavy and would be such a pain in the ass to move" or "i could move my desk and put yoga stuff in that corner, but then i'd have to rearrange all that stuff on the wall."

my vision and my motivation are not currently in sync, in all areas. and that's okay.

the opportunity to change arises in each moment. thereafter, it becomes a conscious choice. much like my eight year old described, you can just decide to do something and then go do it, however, in my experience, not without frequent reminders and baby steps, and not all at once.

they don't call it practice for nothing ;)

on overcoming. or "get over your hill and see..."

i posted this on facebook a week or so ago on sunday, four days before i started this post last night.
(that's what kind of week this has been.)

one of those people was my best friend, also known as my wife.

one of the reasons she's my wife is because we have come to the understanding that sometimes we just need a break from each other in order to grow, or not grow. we have crossed paths, went our separate ways, and re-convened at several junctures since we met, almost 18 years ago. it's the way we learn things and expand our boundaries. i will not be so arrogant as to claim certainty over events that have yet to happen so there's no way for me to know that history will repeat itself or when or how. for all i know, she may never speak to me again.

i felt an almost instantaneous peace with it all for a multitude of reasons, not the least of which was having just read, "loving what is," by byron katie. plus, some pretty big internal shifts were taking place and i was all prepared for the grand cross and shit. wished her peace, as well, and that was that.

interestingly, i started this post last night and this popped up on my FB feed this morning.
and well, it sums up where i'm at with all that. a lot...

I used to judge people who didn’t want to work on their ‘issues’ and patterns. I questioned their emotional courage, their fortitude, their depth. To be sure, many of us- myself included- could do a better job of dealing with our stuff head on. But, at the same time, I now recognize that we cannot know how courageous someone else is by looking at their lives from the outside. Perhaps they are carrying around so much unresolved emotional material- their own, even that of the collective- that they do not have any energy left over for processing. Or perhaps they are working in the deep within in ways that we cannot begin to imagine- healing their unresolveds, quietly building the egoic foundation necessary to take on the next level of inner work. It’s so hard to know where courage lives. 
- Jeff Brown

just a day or so after the break-up my oldest son comes to me and says maybe he doesn't want to go to college after all, maybe he wants to move to california. i told him that i totally support him pursuing his dreams and all, but he kind of needed a plan. graduation was three weeks away.

he said he could look into a job transfer and mentioned staying with some friends that lived in the bay area but also wanting to play music on the SoCal beaches and while i love a good sense of adventure, i also like safety measures. he'd just returned from a spring break choir trip to disneyland and it's pretty much his favorite place ever so i asked him if he'd thought about working there.

he got right on it and applied. he texted me last thursday: i have an interview for disneyland on may 1st.

then he texted me again: it's in person. they don't do phone interviews anymore.

WHAT?!?

my mom agreed to drive him out there.


two days later, i kicked him out of the house*.

it was actually a very conscious decision even if it came in the midst of drama, even if i could have just let it go, even if byron katie, herself, might have a chuckle because i'd wanted him to fill out the judge-your-neighbor-worksheet and he was refusing to cooperate.

it was the culmination of 18 years of being at odds with the first person i loved with a ferocity i didn't know what to do with...

i was absolutely DONE being ignored and disrespected and taken for granted while more and more expectations were stacking up against me. even if that's just one perspective and another one is:

i was also done trying. it was just exhausting and letting things go, being the bigger person, not engaging, well...it looked a lot like being a pushover. if he wasn't coming and going as he pleased, he'd ask something of me and if i wasn't delivering the response he wanted, it was all drama, all the time. i'm still not sure if it was ego or soul preservation at work but i have learned to quickly let go of anything that provokes anger, resentment, shame, guilt and all other manner of hurtful things - i acknowledge their existence but they are not invited on my journey to healing and in the last few years the family members i am still in contact with has dwindled down to nearly zero because i'm all about acknowledging and then breaking these cycles, not repeating them (and sometimes that looks like avoidance, but it's not).

to explain further would be far outside the scope of this blog post but the history here is that my son has always felt more comfortable calling my mother his mom and living under her roof (*technically, is it kicking him out if he returns to his grandmother's or here when they get back from california?).

yesterday, exactly a week after the interview was scheduled, he texted me again:
so.....i got the job. i start may 31.


when i was in disneyland in february for the art journaling the magic workshop, i totally envisioned him there. he just has "the disney look" and he loves LOVES loves disneyland...one of the tour guides in walt's apartment reminded me so much of my son and i just knew, in that moment, he'd fit right in.

before they left, my mom told me the only reason she agreed to take him was because she knew he'd get the job. i told her i thought the same thing. i felt really positive about this, and despite drama earlier in the week, i wanted nothing but the best for him.

photo cred goes to my sister @ last night's celebratory in-n-out dinner

all afternoon and well into last night, i was giddy, giving silent thanks, and undoing the knots in my stomach. nervous but secure. some distance is good and necessary. some of us have to fall a lot or from farther heights when we're learning to fly, some leave the nest fully prepared to soar.

i am so amazed to be here. living my word. putting faith and trust into action, with absolutely no need to control outcomes or predict the future. if i have given my son anything, it's the confidence to follow his heart. my first baby boy has his foot in the door, and i am still a little wow'd by how quickly things fell into place - and so SO thankful that he can embark upon his first, big adventure with a safety net just large enough to comfort this mama's heart.

here's to may, which will be no less intense than last month - as we search for living quarters and put in some creative elbow grease to fund his great move out west!


 ♥

UPDATE: we may have found *the perfect, most suitable* living situation for zach, we'll know by friday. yay! he wants to leave just a day or two after his graduation ceremony so he's set up a gofundme account to help him on his new adventure. every little bit helps and if you can share the link or spare a few bucks, it would be deeply appreciated!!!

sweet clarity

sweet clarity

at once concrete

then like running water

i catch a glimpse

cannot grasp

make excuses

you know every time

i think i should write it down

i should

because i forget

despite everywhere reminders

.

.

.

i still feel out of sorts

out of alignment

with the seasons

does this happen?

as we age and take up more space?

i've heard time spins faster

but i always imagined i could keep up

.

.

.

i found an old collage

i think about from time to time

i'd been looking for it recently

thought perhaps i'd thrown it out

in some fit of being a better me

now, in the present tense

i didn't think i'd ever have parted with it

but knowing that some partings aren't chosen

i stopped searching

last week as i pulled into the garage

i saw my old art portfolio

against the wall

by my car door

where it's been since the move

behind it, the collage

 started ten years ago

i'd been wanting to finish it

and so it begins

girl in circles

above the girls it reads: here's to women waging peace

.

.

.

being peace

daily struggle

my children, my guides

learning the lessons of reflection

mirrored by all

last moontime i realized

that some most all external discord

is caused by internal disharmony

and even though i often feel alone,

adrift, out to sea with no anchor

it is up to no one but me to reel myself back

again

and again

learning to ride the waves

and kiss the tide

the reluctant gift of self-reliance

.........................................................................................................

day one

i started this post at the beginning of the month.

it is now nearly over.
i'm almost 35.
i just had to exhale after i typed that.

actually, i didn't. i typed that at the beginning month and as my birthday swiftly approaches, it's less shocking but...

i used to think 35 was old.
i used to think i wouldn't live this long.

(but also, now, i think there were a lot of years i wasn't even living.)

i am about to enter my fifth seven year cycle.
and maybe for the first time in my life, i expect great things to come.
i say that in as non-attached a way as possible, which i guess is to say:
great things are to come.

in fact, they're already here.

it dawned on me the other day that when someone asks, "how are you (doing/feeling/etc.)? i no longer shrug and say, "meh" or feel as though it's a loaded question that they don't really want me to answer.

in the past, when things were going well i used to minimize it for fear that it wouldn't last or that i wasn't deserving or that someone would take it away from me.
i used to think others had that much power.
i used to give them that much power.

it was one of those lessons i had to learn and continue to learn.
i'm not even sure i'll never have to take the test again but right now it feels as though i finally passed a class i'd repeatedly failed.

i can now say things are great.
i am great.

and mean it.

there will probably always be days that i wish stuff was different or easier or better...

and i know, almost for a fact, that there will still be days when i am stricken by a grief that feels extra-heavy on my bones. that's sort of the way life works.

it's definitely how i work.
how i feel everything.

but here's what i've learned, what i carry into this next trip around the sun...

just as i can stand firmly
in my fear.
in my loss.
in my head.

i can also stand, confidently
in celebration.
in love.
in truth.

isn't that all we can do?

to live each of our breaths as though they were our last?
to find the joy and pure bliss of this experience and take none of it for granted?

we are here to feel our emotions, ALL OF THEM, but to react and respond from our core, like the spoke of a wheel.

stable.
secure.
centered.

no matter how fast the world is spinning around us.

.
.
.

remember that time i had a living room full of journals?

i had to get up on the couch to capture this 8-ft spread.

reading that blog post again and wow.

evidence that even slow growth is still growth.

after that first phase,i set aside 16 journals and a portable file box of old poetry to go through at a later date.
i had to give each page the time it deserved before i could just toss it.
these were the pages i'd carried around for fifteen, twenty years. lifetimes.

last october, after nearly losing my sight, going through those reserved journals was the goal but i started with my jewelry boxes, little treasures of gemstones in hidden places, my closets, bookshelves, studio...anything to keep me from the hard work
of
digging
through
those
words.

forever girl in circles.
accepted and embraced.
this is how i roll.
aware, almost the whole time, of i how i get in my own way and distract myself.
i'm the best at it.

last week i decided it was time to do this thing.
to step aside and enter the the second, most brutal phase.

i brought out the file box and those 16 journals and sat down in the middle of my studio.

i'd taken three years of poetry classes when i was getting my psych degree.
because i couldn't afford the luxury of therapy.
i wrote.
badly.

the other day i threw out my final portfolios.
said good-bye to ten pounds of classroom poetry,
other people's work and their commentary on mine.

for a minute i thought i'd regret it.
i think it's made for some incredibly strange dreams since.
but i don't regret it.

i kept my teenage composition notebook with fleetwood mac lyrics and tragic love letters.
and just one embarrassing childhood diary.

everything is now organized by topic or project and it all fits in a small file box.

a newer one. with the poetry, went the old, broken one. it's black pleather stood as an ironic box of darkness filled with opinions i no longer needed.

.
.
.

today is day one.

no more keeping strange hours or staying up until 4am, because, obviously that means that come 8 the next morn, i am not going to be the best functioning person i can be,  much less a functioning mama.

no more fear of ...dun, dun, dun....a schedule.
time-keeping.
keeping track.


it occurred to me the other day that what i feared most was that schedules somehow lead to a lack of creativity or spontaneity, that i would lose touch with the very madness that i derive my best ideas from but then i broke it down...

nothing is never not born from and into chaos, but nothing ever gets done if we're just floating around in chaotic shit all the time. we're not helpless, and no matter how buddhist you are, you have to admit that we are always enacting some sort of control over, or manipulating, at the very least, our experiences.

schedules can help harness the magic, then action can be taken.

i confused this necessary step with rigid schedules that constrict and bind and choke.
the kind that are "mandatory" and often associated with a name tag or uniform.

i am not uniform and so i resisted schedules for years. YEARS. even though, pick up any number of remaining journals of mine and you will see notes that look something like this:

morning: yoga, stretch, journaling/reading, coffee, breakfast, circle time, stories

mid-morning: snack, outside play, lesson books, free play

lunch, clean-up.
art, clean-up.

afternoon: snack, outside play, story time, stretch/music and movement

that was my formula for being an awesome, present, involved homeschooling mama but it left very little time or space for me and what else i have to accomplish (like making art, selling art, bookkeeping job-job, and making more books, yo!!!)

often i would sneak little or large chunks of time for updating the etsy shop or taking photos, painting or writing. i'd stay up late. wake early...or, as of late, wake late more and more and still feel exhausted. i felt scattered and flustered and knew my kids were suffering as much as i was. it wasn't so much that i wasn't giving them proper attention so much as i was inconsistent with it.

yesterday was one of the worst days we've had in a long time

i left the boys with awesome papa and did my favorite thing.
drove around a while, then sat in my car and cried.

before it was time to pick teen up from work, i decided it was time to hit the bookstore, find a book that called to me, and get my head clear. this is my new form of free therapy.

i saw a copy of hands free mama's new book by the same title.
i was a little meh about all the god-talk but it didn't turn me off as much as some reviewers.
it caught me off guard but the fact that i kept reading it means i've grown as a person.

and i know how to take what resonates and leave the rest.

i may have even bought it, save for i'm on a book diet.
plus, what i took from it while i sat there for thirty minutes was just the perspective i needed.
i felt the shift then and there and realized that my pretend schedules never lasted long (sort of like fad diets, yk?) because i tried to fit in all this awesome-hands-on-mom-time without making an actual on-paper schedule for my work/projects/me-time.

i often felt like i was "stealing" or sneaking this time to get things done because i was. sprinkled into our busy days, the inconsistency produced a lot of unnecessary stress.

last night my eight year old and i came up with a plan.

he called it: "gadget-free until three" meaning that we would tend to our homeschooling and housekeeping tasks throughout the day, staying off the electronics, until 3pm, at which point he and his brother could watch TV or play video games and i could work until dinner.

sounds SO simple but our homeschooling rhythm completely falls apart if they kids start playing minecraft after breakfast or i start checking FB, updating my etsy shop, or making work-related phone calls first, and of course, my teen's work schedule varies and i am driving him to and from work at least three days a week.

middlest and i were on the same page, though, and came up with a pretty nifty, flexible schedule.
in an effort to maximize our time and positive energy, we came up with a daily rhythm much like the oft-repeated, infrequently implemented ideal schedule but with time for mom built into the equation.

i even have myself going to bed by midnight at the latest.
this is revolutionary.

we did have a few bumpy spots after lunch, but it was warm out so we went to the park for an hour and while my middlest was itching to play on the computer when we got home, the littlest was gadget free ALL day. he didn't even ask for the ipad once. AND. and. AND?

i was able to work for four hours straight!
my kids didn't fight!

granted, teen and awesome papa were home, but the kids weren't even deferring to either of them to break up conflicts. there just weren't any. littlest only interrupted me a few times and it was toward the end of my scheduled block of time, anyhow.

after day one my four year old said "this was the best day ever" and even though he says that quite often, it wasn't accompanied by one of the many, daily declarations that it was also the worst day ever.

i call that a win.

...now. art and writing to happen, not on the whim of my crazy muse, but on a schedule.
which is no longer a bad word in my book.

on want. or the sh*t + the sh*ne.

when i was a kid my grandma used to say, "if you have handful of want and a handful of shit, all you end up with is shit."

of course my episodic memory is shit, so it's quite possible she never said that even though *i can remember* her face hovering over me as she did, with her palms open, face-up. one grasping at air, the other slinking lower with imaginary weight.

but what do i know?

i know the power of writing things down and dreams coming true.

i know the magic of crying in a broken heap upon the floor at 4 a.m. and wanting to die until the tears have run dry and there's a silent hope in the last, exhausted gasp for air. deflated and too tired to move, you stay there and stare off in awe, until you have to lift your heavy bones in a few hours to get yourself or your kid to school or whatever.

i know the power of creating our world with our thoughts, whether things feel like coincidence or serendipity, or because we have put the actual blood, sweat, and tears into action, which then result in a sometimes desirable outcome.

i know that to want meant to never have and to need was to show weakness and i have to be gentle with myself and foster neither excess or deprivation.

i know that i consider myself a happy person but i wasn't always and it's not without a darn-near constant effort. it sure as hell beats being angry and miserable all the time, which, when you think about it, also takes effort. even if it's easier or more comfortable.

i also know that i'm still one of the saddest and most sensitive creatures i know.

sometimes my friends tell me the perfect things and they remind me that when you feel everything with such intensity, all you can do is cry or have a real, visceral need to avoid as much human interaction as possible.

but what do i want?

sometimes i think i have everything i want. sometimes i think that wanting is a dangerous catch-22, best reserved for those who have truly mastered the power of magical thinking or the law of attraction. sometimes i don't know how to unblur the lines between want and need and what do any of us really even need?

i want to care for my mind, body, and spirit a bit more than i ever have.

i want to do yoga and quit saying i want to do yoga.

i want to sleep in, without qualifying it as a need and without feeling guilty, regardless.

i want to listen to my body and not be scared when i forget things or my muscles twitch or i ache upon waking or feel pings and zaps of involuntary nerve activity.

i want to pick up the breadcrumbs i scattered when i lost myself, to find the way back to myself.

i want to dress up or dress homeless, to show some skin, or not show anything.

 i want to be peace and breathe; unafraid.

i want to love, wholly and completely, without reservation or fear.

i want struggle and bad things not to exist anymore, anywhere, for anyone and by that i mean...

i want to see the shine through the shit, the gift in the grit.

i want to sit with open palms, face up, in order to both give and receive. endlessly and without greed. to be a vessel of ongoing, silent transactions, a conduit for change.

the tarot tells me what i needed to hear, in this moment, perhaps what i already know.
the wants + needs + knowledge already within, as is the choice in how to meet them; how to meet myself.

i also pull a card from the mother's wisdom deck, at random. the power in this small act always floors me.

haumea. a card i've not drawn before.

divine ancestress of the hawaiian people, haumea kindles a mother's nurturing nature. some mothers nurture in fits and starts, others nurture in spades...haumea has nurturing energy to spare. receive her visitation as a direct transmission of this essential mothering superpower...self-care forms the cornerstone of nurturing. we mothers habitually begrudge ourselves the care that we dole out to our families. are you victim to the belief that by giving to yourself, you deprive your children? the opposite reigns true - when we neglect to nurture ourselves, our caregiving withers. haumea urges you to consider how you need tending so that your motherhood may blossom.

and so on.

mothering and nurturing myself through the right words from a book.

i fill my cup, through wants and needs and desires and hopes and dreams and wishes and magic.
then i share its contents.

i'm going to disneyland and BIG news!

in two weeks i will be having lunch with one of my favorite artists + friend, mindy lacefield, the wonderfully sweet, mixed media artist + art journaling expert (+ owner of artspiration studio in mesa, az) tangie baxter, and a whole bunch of other awesome folks in downtown disney.

*pinch me*

i am so excited and also a little in disbelief that this all came together and i get to do this thing.

not just lunch. not just disney. a full three days of taking in the full, creative experience of the parks, art journaling meet-ups, a guided tour, a breakfast workshop at rainforest cafe...just. so. excited!

it's two weeks away but there may be a couple of spots left and there are some options...even an online version for those that can't make it to anaheim. 

click below for details...

now this trip wouldn't have been completely possible without gretchen, another friend of mine that i "met" online through corbyn hanson hightower, my collaborator and creative partner for the past year and a half. gretchen is taking the workshop, too, and generously offered to let me stay with her and her family at their nearby beach house. i honestly haven't even soaked this all in yet. 

me. on a beach. and in disneyland. without children...well, without my children (gretchen's four year old daughter and i are totally gonna be BFFs). i'm so giddy! a longtime friend of mine keeps reminding me NOT to feel guilty about this, to reclaim some parts of my childhood + just enjoy the experience (love you, katykins!) her words will totally carry me through this trip, because, while my husband and i are planning to take the boys to disneyland next year, i think i just might totally cry in cars land without them.

now...as if that weren't exciting enough....drumroll please...

corbyn and i have so much goodness to unleash, the first of which is our "picture book for adults" that's about to be released on amazon, like. soon. we're in the internal review process and ordering our proofs but here's a sneak peek of the cover!

squeeee! deets will be spilled here when the book is available, but also, stay abreast of all updates in a much quicker fashion by "liking" my facebook page, if you haven't already ;)

year in review : 2013

january 

this feels so far away, i can't recall a single highlight of last january, so moving on...

february

went to las vegas, had dinner on top of the stratosphere (never again. it made me sick. i have never had to work so hard to keep it together while sober.) visited my dad who treated my husband and i with tickets to see the beatles cirque de soleil show (he and his wife watched our littles, too. date night = awesome!). my dad also took us to hoover dam, we had a nice beer and burger on the way, and once there i nearly had an anxiety attack. heights and water and no.

at the boulder brewing co., boulder city, nv

lake mead

bridge over hoover dam.
i could not take photos of the actual dam because all i could do was imagine falling in.

march

for my birthday i took a distressing workshop with the beautiful, ultra-sweet + talented amanda louise spayd. she and her pal, chris ryniak had a show @ stranger factory. if you're not familiar with her work, it's aha-mazing!

amanda and chris.
photo-qual is meh because i was still rockin' the iphone 3GS. hee.

one day i will have a dust bunny original. oh yes, i will.

april 

baby was sicker than i've ever seen a kid, it was fairly traumatic for both of us. he turned the corner and was well enough to play some wii and have some cake on his birthday. also, solo trip to tucson to see modest mouse, visited some friends in phoenix and went to ikea. w00t! i reeeealllly didn't want to spend 14+ hours in a car by myself but i did it. and it was worth it.

may

participated in my first gallery show at metallo gallery in madrid, nm and made some new art/business world connections.

june

took mini roadtrip with awesome papa to see mumford + sons in taos. the rain and the cold and the amount of people there were all a bit much but it was memorable and fun. on the way home the next day we stopped along the river and then took a surprise detour to tesuque and stopped at shidoni gallery + foundry. through casual conversation i was invited to submit some artwork for representation but, as of yet, have not completed the body of work i started with shidoni in mind.

took pics with awesome papa but he doesn't like to show up on the blog.
solo foto di mia.

riverside.

on the way to shidoni.

artwork i started (to submit to shidoni) and artwork which no longer looks like this.
i have completely embraced the trusting process while making art,
but i truly think i should have stopped while ahead with this one.

july

had a nasty sinus infection that i finally cleared with a neti pot after finally deciding to stop being afraid of them. teenager moved back in. dad came to visit. this was a super intense time and A LOT was going on. no photos. except this one from the best show ever because i can't think of a neti pot without also thinking of ruth and the infamous "nostril pot"!

six feet under in case ya didn't know.

august

also super intense. i have an entire blog post dedicated to just three days in august, but it's probably book material more than anything. took my best friend to colorado to live with another friend...super surreal as she and i had traveled the same stretch of road, ten years ago, on our way to aspen. also on labor day weekend. that trip was life-changing as was this year's, though she and i may not understand the gravity of it all for some time to come. what's weird about it, too, is that her friend lives in an itty, bitty town where another friend of mine once lived. they were introduced (we were all mutual friends forever but her friend and my friend hadn't met until they both lived in colorado) BUT on top of that...this is a place i spent some time in as a kid and have always loved. my dad's mother still owns a summer cabin there, and in fact, if i'd been able to stay longer i could have visited with my dad that weekend . the trip really solidified the fact that i want to live in colorado and that i will, someday. also, 6+ hours in a car by myself, on the way back, was like. no big thing.

on the way up north....

somewhere in colorado. actually operational, too. they were showing smurfs 2.

in the itty town. the only two story people i saw in the only shop we went into.
a sure sign if i ever saw one.

on the way home. it rained. i cried. beauty everywhere

september

i got to spend a day in santa fe with some very special ladies, including, the amazing tracy verdugo! then i took a two-day workshop with her on my old stomping grounds at the university of new mexico. it was indescribably awesome and truly the highlight of this last quarter as so much of what's happened since has been related to the entire experience.

tracy showing us her some of her process.

hadn't been in art department bathroom since i changed
 my minor from art studio to religious studies in 2003.

my canvas after day one.

tracy and i (and our canvases) after day two.

october

• sold my first painting at the charming meme boutique in ohio, which was one of the networking perks of doing the metallo show in may. 

• my biggest commission yet arrived safely in canada. for team bamboletta, known for the super amazing waldorf dolls. and just. wow. the entire process was one of my most amazing experiences in terms of personal and professional growth, so thankful to christina and the lessons i was able to learn (like, maybe don't use new supplies on a big piece without spot-checking first. you know, practical stuff...and also, maybe don't sell yourself short.) i originally underestimated both the time and cost, but christina was a wonderful, patient, kind patron and all the while i kept pinching myself and saying, "i'm creating a painting for a DOLL MAKER to hang in her shop!?!?" because, when i was a kid, i used to bring home doll catalogs from a superfancy doll shop and pretend that i was running my own doll shop. full. circle. amazeballs.

photo courtesy of bamboletta

in it's new home, photo taken by bamboletta

i also started a few dreads (haven't yet decided if i want a full head of them), nearly went blind AND sent in my first submission to stampington + co. like, physically mailed in artwork. has been on my list of things to-do for years but all things in their time.

november

• sold my second painting at meme boutique!
• started working on my first collab book for real for real. it's been a year+ in the making! woohoo!
• awesome papa and i had the epiphany of all epiphanies about moving to colorado AND what to do once we get there (basically the sum total of all of our wishes, desires, triumphs, and failures over the years culminated into the perfect plan and we had a complete "what took us so long?" moment. more later...) 
• decided, that yes. in the meantime, for real for real, i'm going to teach art. even managed to get two students, ready to start in january (and i need to get on that...no more procrastinating!)

december

• got moving on the first retreat i will host (and co-teach with some super-highly awesome other artists!). i am seriously excited to spill all the beans about this but details are under wraps until they come together a little more. you are not going to want to miss this, though! it's good stuff with good people!
• put together a wonderfully sweet and last-minute commission that arrived JUST IN TIME for christmas (questioned my sanity on this one, but so happy that i was able to stretch my "deadline" wings and i'm smitten with how it came out!) 
• let the last minute become the very last minute and just accepted it. for the first time, ever, i didn't wrap a single gift until christmas eve and was not as stressed out as i might have been in the past. love these little, obvious signs of growth.
• also...as the month came to an end, so did a lot of things come together. proof that what we need is always there, always within, with us. it reveals itself when it needs to. big lessons in trust and seeing the magic. always + forever.

sisters.
last commission of the year.

whew! 2014 is going to be just as filled with love and full of wonder. there will be books and news, new artwork, travels and teaching. will reveal a bit more soon, along with my word of the year (it still hasn't come to me. i tried to force it, and there will be a theme, but the word is a mystery yet...)