6/4/09 - 1/6/10 Go toward Love and not away from Fear.
"Every time life brings you to a crossroads from the tiniest to the most immense, go toward Love not away from Fear." ~Martha Beck
My 20th college reunion was infused with this quote - not so much from the perspective of obsessive mantra but more from the ability to take my Thoroughbred of Courage out for a ride. Images of "Yes Man" with Jim Carrey flashed across my screen in order to set this personal challenge. The formal gauntlet, however, had been set by the board of my college girlfriends supported by their longstanding friendship that enabled me to "...go toward love and not away from fear." It helped open me up to the unknown of future opportunity and shut down the discomfort of awkward youthful memories. And because I like to piggyback 7 hour trips to Maine with more than a sole purpose, it also happened to be well timed and early enough in the season to combine it with opening up our summer home on the coast of Maine.
The kitchen sink at the Villa overlooking Linekin Bay happens to be the control tower of spring cleanings. The sparkle off the ocean normally eclipses the cottage that has sat thirty feet away for over 130 years. It envelopes you, the sparkle that is, into a trance similar to staring into a beachside campfire (barring the satellite torches of flaming marshmallows). Dishes, grimy grates from the grill, bucket upon bucket of spent suds all seem to culminate effortlessly at the kitchen sink when greeted by a glimpse of the ocean. Sunlight refracted off the waves of the sea infuse every mind with joy, instantly wiping away the furrow of spring chores: The motherboard reset. Vigorous growth of coniferous trees that had been planted to aid in residential privacy thrived for only a short while before being overcome by blight. Now instead stands a renegade four-trunked white birch. It was this tree that superceded even the most auspicious shimmer, the cottage on the adjacent piece of property, for all intents and purposes, invisible. As we replaced window panes and initiated blast-off I had the privilege of receiving a gift; A merciful end of my mourning process.
My mother had a deep, long-standing affinity with the birch tree. The four trunks emanating from one root ball spoke volumes towards my heart and the energy work that I have been doing with limited success for the past three years. What was restricting my growth was my inability to move beyond the love that resided with my parents. The shift occurred in a gradual awakening; Being able to still feel the reminder of their love but, more importantly, to experience and allow a deeper level of love on this physical plane; the love of those right in front of me - of my family and friends - those who consistently did all the reaching who had, up until then, made a partial connection with a half-realized heart.
There I was standing at the kitchen sink hearing whispers of beauty and inspiration that motivated me to dive deep into the here and now ~ beyond what I knew into something greater than me ~ to move into the faith of the Universe. Having opened up my heart and moved beyond my grief has enabled the rest of me to gradually follow suit. In these moments the eyes of my soul reached through the pane of glass for life and it's earthly manifestations. The four-trunked birch extending it's vibration in reciprocity....longing for the eternal manifestation though the hands of a dreamer...longing to be understood in translation; as a totem of love cast in silver.
The way it presented itself to me was clear. The pendant needed to be represented in the balance of spiritual and kinetic energies of our sacred Villa and the tree; The frame of one window pane in combination with the energy of the birch tree outside. Standing from the perspective of inside the house illuminated the representation of my human form and the process we as a group where looking to achieve that weekend infusing life into a home. Unifying the carving of this series of trees, the imprint of the house combined with the importance of my father's last written words, "May the Spirit of Love Guide You Forever.", (***read 10/7/03***) resulted in the first and subsequent completion of the JewelTree of Life Chakra Series. Symbolic of it's position in the energy fields, situated in the center of seven, the heart chakra unites the three lower, earth/physical body energy centers with those of the three, higher vibratory, cosmic chakras. The creation of this pendant brought forth the remaining six Chakras in relation to the anatomy of theJewelTree.
As lofty of a connection for some that this may be I would like to admit, however, that I am dwarfed by Universal Intelligence. It is foregone conclusion that I will never be able to devise a mathematical theory or scientific formula to heal the world. It has become increasingly apparent that I will not be able to envision new Lego themes that seem to set everything aright with the Universe for my nine year old. I will not be able to fix a bug's broken leg for my seven year old daughter or accelerate time so that she can get her ears pierced or have the maturity to take care of a puppy she so desperately would like to dress up. Need I mention my inability to grasp the concept of wireless Internet? However, I can assist in helping excavate the ellusive artifact of love that sets the rotation of the earth to realign harmony and world peace. I can focus on what I am able do, what I enjoy doing...I can focus on positivity and appreciation of concepts beyond my grasp, I can work on accentuating joy and making the world a better place one piece of inspired jewelry at a time infused with meaning, conviction and LOVE.
Having moved through mourning towards love (and not way from fear) once again, proved valuable and henceforth became the theme apparent of this extended weekend in Maine. The teachable moments arrived over the course of four days after I saddled my Thoroughbred of Courage in Connecticut, worked through fear and realized I wasn't going to die in the process. The people in my life that extended their light lent courage to new adventures previously unattainable. Love...there is no better elixer to life on this physical plane. To strive towards the unknown with less fear - reaching for the unconventional combinations and breaking out of the set of rules by which I held myself captive has liberated me. With Love everything and anything is possible.
"Mom. I had a bad dream last night. I had a dream that it was the end of the school year. Mom? I don't want the year to end. I am going to miss Mrs. O." ~ Trevor, grade 3
2/18/09 - Leftovers
Hard times, drastic measures. This economic downturn is the excuse for lots of things. My dislike of spending time in the kitchen is not one of them - but - it is a great incentive to make sure that not a pinch of food gets wasted. Meals throughout my life have revolved around a perpetual recession nurtured by a father who grew up in war torn Germany and a mother who hated to cook. Leftovers, as a child, were reinvented time and time again as a stand-in for a meal. "Real meals" we received at McDonalds or Hunan Garden, the restaurant housed within a local hotel 5 minutes away. Five years working in the galley aboard numerous schooners and yachts has depleted my creative culinary instincts and I have become... my mother. Last weeks leftovers contained a morsel of stir fry, a container of Annie's mac & cheese, a couple hot dogs and a piece of steak. Sharing was not a part of the dinner forum this particular night. I claimed the stir fry, Tatum coveted the Annie's, Trevor the hot dogs and Jeff the steak. IF vegetables were not in the original container then there may have been a raw peeled carrot thrown in to the negotiation which may or may not have been peeled but was absolutely mandatory if anything sweet was to follow. As Jeff embarked on his meager rations the dinner conversation piqued his fury...
"Mom, have you ever seen a maggot?" questioned Trevor.
"Yeeesssss. Oh boy are they..."
"TREVOR, I DON'T WANT TO HEAR ANOTHER WORD ABOUT MAGGOTS. DO YOU SEE WHAT I AM EATING?" The daddy-cloud-of-doom hovered over the table and conversation suspended in mid-air with the delay of Wily Coyote as he runs off a cliff before the moment of decent.
Trevor and I exchanged a momentary glimpse of raised Road Runner eyebrows and continued, "Can we talk about weevils?"
11/23/08 - Devotion
I have just survived a weekend in New Hampshire on house arrest as my husband pursued his ambitious goal to support his teams. Had it not been for the preoccupation of helping prepare an early Thanksgiving dinner (or, more accurately, watching my mother-in-law prepare it) I may have sent out a red flag in protest. I am the immigrant's wife brought to the land of football & hockey-that-reigns-supreme. Left in my house dress holding my broom, I don a smilish nod of disbelief as he heads from one game to the next. Does he thinks this mean I approve? I don't speak the language.
Today's drive home, however, was the true testament to his devotion. My children and I walked out to the car after a visit to the highway rest stop to find his 6'4" frame wedged in the back seat between the kids car seats and huddled in front of a mini TV. Blisters and pops of intermittent coverage echoed off the windshield as he turned the volume higher and higher. Jackets were hung to prevent the sunlight from distorting any image that he could coax on the screen. Desperation soon turned into full panic when the radio and the TV only registered moon sounds. "NO, NO, nooooo!", he wailed. As he touched my cheek with the antenna I knew his desperation would take him one step further. In the rear-view mirror I saw what he was thinking...he was ready to wrap the kids in aluminum foil and strap them to the roof.
11/21/08 - "Family Service"
My sister has provided a :"Family Service" this weekend.Family services normally include a joint owned piece of property. The first stage of family service starts with an e-mail requesting the telephone number for the joint owned home owners insurance number and policy. The second stage is a voice mail with adjectives like, "really, really..." and "super, super sorry!" The third stage includes third-party intervention from a very calming and reassuring voice.
In our case, I still had very little information when my phone rang.
"So...are you going to kill me?" she winced.
"Krista, what are you talking about?"
"You didn't receive my e-mail?"
"No, I am in New Hampshire." I stated.
"Oh, well....there is no way to sugar coat this: AllthepipesfrozeatthehouseIknowIshouldhavehadthisdoneamonthagobuttimehasgottenawayfrommeIhaveproofine-mailsthatitwasonmyradarbutandIknowIshouldhavedonethismyselfbutitdidn'thappenIamreallyreallysupersupersorryIamtakingsteps
tocorrecttheproblemandJohnsaysitshouldbecoveredbyourhomeownersinsurancewehaveMardenbuildersandMcCormickplummingon
standbyandI'llcalltheinsurancecompanyasap."
"Julie?Are you there?"
"Krista. I am speechless."
This is a "Family Service" as defined by one of Krista's friends. It is a service that will benefit primarily the younger generation, namely my children. Apparently, I am gaining practical experience and familiarity in hosting roadside calamities such as these. As she sees it, my children will benefit during the time that they become preoccupied enough to be the cause of similar, ultra-costly infractions.
This necklace will be heavy. It will be made of every section of burst copper pipes I can salvage. It will be gilded in gold and gifted to the perpetrator.
11/17/08 - Botox
I have a notch of motherhood permanently lodged between my eyes. It makes me look mean. I think I need botox. I don't care about my wrinkles (lie), however, I feel I would benefit from this more so because my forehead is a billboard of emotion. I'd like to take a couple lessons from Ryan Gosling - the actor that has the unusual appeal of being able to act a scene without anything on his brow. It is all in his eyes...his gorgeous...expressive....eyes. He sneaks up on unsuspecting victims and swallows you whole. I am left mesmerized. Rewind that scene again. How does he do that? I can't even say "hi" without a full blown tsunami crossing my forehead. This is a call for - BOTOX. I am convinced he has it. Another option would be to mimic Lady Penelope in Gerry Anderson's Thunderbirds. She is made of plastic. Marionettes - they have it so easy. What a great combo - suave Ryan in combination with Lady Penelope's accent, gadgets, cars (albeit pink), clothes and knack of maneuvering around life's hot spots. How would I put this into a piece of jewelry? Damn, I'm doing it again. My forehead is contorted into a mass of squints and squeaks as my eyeballs gaze out to the right.
11/13/08 - Cupboard goalie
Within the last two weeks I have made a couple of observations - albeit obscure - these evaluations have officially made me an adult; I am a cupboard goalie. I no longer own a single glass that I used when I was in college. In my perpetual quest for sanity amidst the chaos of raising children it gives me great pleasure to open a cupboard door to see serenity in the uniformity and order of my glasses. Matching glasses = peace. Resting behind another door is a very formidable, untamed spice rack; the kind that my mother used to have with flavors such as saffron to make her Swedish Christmas bread, cloves & bay leaf to spice the air as her artichokes steamed to perfect tenderness, chipotle pepper bought off a southwestern street skewered with saguaro cactus from a woman with tanned leathery skin. Here in my cupboard reside the same types of spices that I used when I was 5 to cook a piece of American cheese in an omelet pan for my father. He sat at the table and ate this piece of melted spiced cheese with the devotion of a soul dedicated to the creative being within me; within him; within his predecessors. I'd love to have more of my dad's spirit - but I'm just not that cool. They move towards me whispering game plays as they approach with sequencing like "Top Chef", "Lemonade Stand" and "Restaurant" and my immediate reaction is...game face and pads. I fend off each attempt with the fervor of a seasoned goalie defending culinary order and cleanliness.
11/7/08 - Jade
I have a jade plant that I have been nursing back to life ever since I almost killed it 6 years ago. Prior to inheriting it, the plant had belonged to my father. He had a knack for nurturing anything living particularly plants and animals. The jade is also know as the money tree. He had been given a sprig of this plant from one of his wealthy clients. He nurtured this plant from sprig to mammoth jade - the type you'd see in a home that had been passed from generation to generation - a fixture in the library among volumes of leather bound books and chairs and oriental rugs. This was the entity for which I proudly assumed guardianship.
I felt for this plant. Thought it needed more sun. On the fateful day I sent it out to play in the early morning rays I became side tracked with my 2 year old. Not until 4 o'clock that day, fully scorched did I run to the rescue - too late. Cowering in pain the plant's arms reached in the opposite direction of the sun.
It has taken 6 years but today there appeared what would seem to be a blossom on my jade plant - a harbinger of good fortune and gentle, patient healing.
11/5/08 - Pride
I am relieved. I am proud. I am crying because I am so happy for America and the voices of millions that have been heard and counted. I feel a part of that voice today. The people with whom I interact thousands of miles away match my vibration of hope. I can hear it in their voices. I can feel it in their soul. Positivity. Healing. Biodiversity. Regardless of the struggle to get there I believe in heightened personal motivation - nationwide to start the renovation of our political and cultural landscape.
10/30/08 - Flooding the River Banks
Doubting oneself is one of the most counter-productive past times I can think of. This recent dip in confidence and self-worth is a natural ebb & flow of tidal psychoses. Jeanne Avery has informed me, however, that I am a Scorpio Rising which brings along with it a host of powerful qualities that tend to be misunderstood. In her book The Rising Sign: Your Astrological Mask there is so much revealed about one's personality based on the ascending sign prior to and during the moment of your birth. So, as much as I would prefer to be the quiet, behaved child in the corner, instead I flood the riverbanks with exuberance, emotion and motivation leaving all those who had been wading their toes in the water to recede for fear of being engulfed in the current. I am enjoying my passage and feel destined to make the world a better place. I refuse to doubt myself and my motivations any longer. I'll sit back and let the Universe unfold while I simultaneously to take to the skies and fly like an Eagle bringing all those who care to join me along for the ride.
"Children left unattended will be given an espresso and a free puppy."
This is a laugh-out-loud sign that I saw at a local store; the retailer attempting to inform customers with errant, misbehaved children that it is not OK to let their kids run amok in the store. That if one pile of neatly pressed and folded eye-level-to-a-three-year-old-stack of shirts falls to the floor there will be a price to pay. It reminds me of the miraculous trouble that children can drum up while left alone... with a box of milk and a straw, a paper clip and string, a marble and rubber band, a stack of shirts...you know.
With a shift of consciousness...Behold! There is beauty at your fingertips.
9/2/08 - Georgia Byng
Kids off at school, I at my desk freshly exercised and showered ready for what my day will bring. I am feeling ready for anything. The phone rings...
"Hello?"
"Hi, I am so sorry it has taken me so long to call...I hope it's a good time? Things have been absolutely frantic...I've been REALLY busy and we just returned from Holiday...but I wanted to let you know I received your letter and think what you are doing is absolutely brilliant...this is Georgia Byng by the way."
I know Elvis is dead and all but after our conversation and calling my Super Women Hotline; my local network of the most *connected* women I know to blab a few unintelligible sentences, I ran downstairs as if I had just seen Him in concert, or the Beatles, or U2, or John Mayer. You know the look of the old black and white film footage of the young teenage girl who has never come so close to seeing God as before that moment? That was me. Yup. I admit it. I sobbed in my husbands arms.
My version of Elvis happens to be a children's author by the name of Georgia Byng.
Mind you I am not talking about a crush. I am talking about the metaphysical version of this Elvis sighting, the kind that comes with the imprint of Creative Visualization and Dreams of a farmer harvesting his crops from a bountiful and abundant world.The seeds that I planted in April manifesting in beautiful form.
5/30/08 - So Busted
Where the heck did that Happy Meal toy come from? That obnoxious, hard plastic American Idol figurine must make a stealthy exit. A simple flick of the wrist into the kitchen wastebasket...the kids will never know. As it entered the container it hit the side making one last plea for help. In my haste I hadn't even considered looking to see if it had been turned off. The rock n' roll hero lit his furious riff alight with he thought it would be his swan song. That is, until Trevor, in the next room, heard the muffled sounds of a toy entering it's tomb. "HEY!" He shouted with the timbre of an Emergency Toy Rescue official. "What are you doing with that toy?"
"Oh, I'm so busted." I muttered.
With the simmer of coyish distrust and a squint out of the corner of his eye Trevor lowered his life-saving arm into the pit of despair. His grabber claw; the jaws of life slowly encircled the avatar of pop culture and raised him to safety.
5/11/08 - Breakfast in Bed
Time - 6:30 a.m.
Perfectly microwaved bag of Orville Redenbacker Kettle Corn - one
Very adorable, pajama clad chefs - two
Greasy hands - four
Pieces of popcorn I actually ate - two
Amount of joy experienced - infinite
4/13/08 - Irony
As I convalesce from my lightning strike of Molly Moon inspiration I sit, waiting and watching the earth, moon and sky preparing for germination. Based on the back of the packet of zucchini seeds I planted last Sunday it suggested 10-15 days. Thank goodness for my very important potato (v.i.p.) who instructed me to wait on half of my proposed summer crop. My thinking was that if I don't plant now it will never get done. Plant them all, plant them NOW; The sense of urgency surmounting the actual fact that tomato plants can't tolerate soil temps below 70 degrees. It just stems back to the root of my problem: Reading doesn't come easily to me. You'd never know it. I will confess that I read the Cliff Notes of Wuthering Heights 3 to 4 time in my school career. Never once did I crack the book. I would prefer that the seed packet include all information in picture or graph form. Seed depth, seed spacing and plant height AND "minimum constant soil temperature" should be listed for the sentence impaired. My brain does not toggle back and forth easily between written and visual information. Either I need to read it all or see it all. I am not out in the veggie garden, my toes waffling around the dirt in my shoes, my gardening gloves caked thick to read the quaint cluster of sentences explaining how fragrant and bold my tomatoes will become when they reach the size of a ping pong ball and that, by the way they have been around for a century. Thanks, but I can already see that on the cover of the seed packet. Somewhere in every nursery, there must be a frustrated novelist looking to express herself on the back of a seed packet.
Difficulties with reading has ridden my bumper my whole life, that is until I met Alice. After Trevor was born, my speed stroller walks became my daily obsession. Without my walk my day was useless and my brain left deflated by the roadside. Neighbors could set their clocks to my routine which would happen to fall at about 8am, right after my turbo tea and before Trevor's snack and nap. About 2 months into the routine Alice timed her entry into my life and changed my world for the better, again. Her dog"Spanky", a 4 year old well-mannered Beagle, her child before children gave her the natural segue of "coincidental" encounters. Reluctant to approach the stroller for fear of contaminating the sterile baby area with her responsible doggy bag , Alice introduced herself from across practically two lanes of traffic. Not that we lived on a highway but a very busy subdivision of summer lake houses. She discussed the idea she had to start a book club. EGAds! I remarked to myself sparking instantaneous collywobbles of Emily Bronte flashbacks. She doesn't know with whom she is speaking. "Well, I'll think about it." I said. "I'd love to join a book (made into a movie) club. I'll have to see if I have enough time to read. At the moment I am pretty busy with Trevor." (Exit position. Check.)
Well, long story short my life has expanded in so many ways due to books. I am forever grateful to Alice for her suggestion. Some of my favorite books are: Mutant Message Down Under by Marlo Morgan, The Power of One by Bryce Courtenay, Traveling Mercies by Anne Lamott, Stolen Lives by Malika Oufkir, Ethan Frome by Edith Wharton, Tess of the D'Urbervilles by Thomas Hardy and (along with the rest of the world) Eat, Pray,Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. My favorite children's picks, in addition to the entries (3/11/08 & 1/27/08) below, are: The Three Questions and Zen Shorts by Jon J. Muth, (because my kids respond negatively to food coloring) Sweet Dream Pie by Audrey Wood and Love that Dog by Sharron Creech, a touching story about the love shared between a boy and his dog and the path of confidence that he builds through the art of poetry. I felt as if I was watching Trevor in the future when I read this book aloud to him a year ago. My visions were acurate when, this past Friday, he strolled in and left these poems for me to discover in his binder: These words have illuminated the dark recesses of my brain where the last vestiges of bitter hid. They bring forth a tender new forest teaming with life...
S pring is coming
P eepers singing
R unning rivers
I ce cream melting
N ew cycle of life
G reen grass growing
---------
Spring is coming
Come on Spring
Don't be afraid
Come out of your hiding
We want to play.
3/11/08 - Molly Moon
Have you ever been hypnotized? My son, Trevor, walks around with a crystal in his pocket that is attatched to a crimson red silk cord. Prior to a home in his pocket it had hung in our sunroom to catch the early morning rays that would translate into rainbows in our oatmeal. Now, however he swings this crystal as a pendulum in front of me during breakfast, on the way to and from the bus stop, at snack time and at dinner. His hopes are high. Lord, help me on the weekends. His intention is to be published in the Guinness Book of World Records for the most Legos owned by a seven year old. His perserverance is so great I think it may actually work. If you haven't layed eyes on this series of books by Georgia Byng, a London based author - YOU MUST. At the Sherman Library they lept off the "New Arrivals" shelf into my book bag. Trevor and I are now on book three, "Molly Moon's Hypnotic Time Travel Adventure". We read them before school, after school, before bed, (if my husband drives and the roads aren't too windey) during the drive of mom's-night-out. Complete with accents, I flit my way through the live's of Molly, Petula, Rocky, Mrs. Trinklebury, Simon Nockman, Primo Cell, Sinclair and Lucy Logan. We are transported to a new world with the lives of these characters. The reason that the resonate so completely with me is not because of the terminal velocity of action and adventure but because of how the lives in the book and our lives here as a mother and son have intermeshed flawlessly. It is as if the book spoke to me on a higher level - a sort of message of clairvoyant synchronicity and importance. Topics seemed to flow seamlessly as if Molly and Trevor were one. I encourage you to start YOUR adventure with Molly. She won't let you down. Don't make the same mistake we did by trying to skip around between books. They should be read in the following order: Molly Moon's Incredible Book of Hypnotism, Molly Moon Stops the World, Molly Moon's Hypnotic Time Travel Adventure, Molly Moon, Mickey Minus and the Mind Machine. We are officially half way through the series but Trevor asked this question after book number one, "Mom, what are we going to do without Molly Moon once the book is over?" We'll just hope that Georgia Byng stays as inspired as we have become. Keep writing Georgia!!!!!!
3/10/08 - Heart on the Glass (design in process)
Tatum sat alone and undistracted in the front seat of the bus this morning. She chose the window seat that was facing the side that I stood. I waved to her cutie little head just able to poke above the edge of the window. I waved frantically, half excited that I had six hours of uninterupted creative time to myself and half excited that she actually wanted to wave back. I blew her a kiss without a care in the world that the rest of the kids, facing the same direction, were watching. She fogged up the window and as the bus pulled away down the hill her finger drew a heart on the glass.
3/7/08 - Trillion Trev (design in process)
Mom, are there more than a trillion rice crispies in the world? Dad, are there a trillion trees on the planet? Mom, are there a trillion people in the world? Mom, how high would a trillion pages of dictionary paper be? Mom, do you think I have a trillion Legos? Mom, do you think I have spoken a trillion words since I have been alive? Mom, do you think this sugar shaker contains a trillion grains of sugar? Trevor but did you know that the National U. S. Deficit today is $9,400,443,709,973.39? Mom, this tastes so good, I give it a trillion thumbs up.Stay tuned. I will continue to add to this list with new Trillion Trev entries.
3/5/07 - Light Within (design in process)
Tatum came home with a drawing today. Drawn on a sheet of bleached white computer paper is a Tatum's self portrait. It is a blue stick figure with red hair, blue eyes, nose and a big smile and grounded with a black base of crayon. Through her sacral chakra is drawn three lines; two that connect the corners of the page and one that divides the page in half. Each triangle that the page is sectioned off into by the use of these lines is colored luminescent yellow. Tatum said, "Mommy, this is the light that comes out of me."
3/1/08 - Mom, What is Sexy?...and Sex? (design in process)
Undoubtedly overheard on the bus. However, a topic best addressed sooner than later. A topic my mom never felt comfortable talking about. In fact a topic I never felt comfortable writing about - and never would even attempt if she were still alive. Even a good friend who specializes in Emergency Pediatric Medicine who has a boy and girl of similar ages relayed, "Julie I now understand the concept behind arranged marriages. My daughter can get married at age 30 and have sex after I am dead."
So, now I am faced with how to answer this age old panic button. All of us parents face the question at some point. I feel grateful that it was at the end of the day with just the two of us settling in to the bedtime routine. It wasn't at a restaurant or surrounded by swarms of people. The time and place were perfect. However, my head flared with anxiety and my pupils blew up with helium. I took a deep breath not really knowing where to begin. The one thing I rode on was the importance of not making it a big deal. I could sense that this was a question that sparked a little discomfort for Trevor. It was my job to deliver the facts and not the emotion that accompanied it.
Sexy = Hot as in Sponge Bob sticking a finger to his rear end and hearing it sizzle. Hot as in "She's Hot!".
Sex = Otherwise called Sexual Intercourse it is something that adults do (after they are married - uh huh.) for pleasure and also to make a baby. Where Willy Went written and illustrated by Nicholas Allen now sits by Trevor's bed. It is a great general overview of the whole process. It omits the specifics but achieves the daunting task of answering the 7 year old esoteric topic of sex. We now have a bedtime question and answer forum that sets a safe time to discuss anything. I am currently fielding lots of question relating to his birthday in late July, four months away and the party favors he would like to give, the theme, the guests, his gifts, etc. After this though, I am feeling ready to field any question he can conjur.
2/29/08 - Anticipation (design in process)
I could see my breath as we waited for the bus. The sun on the walk down the hill found the magnet of my brown erzatz-sheerling coat only temporarily as I then stood, waiting, in the filtered morning light. What I lacked in warmth was replaced by the new chirps of the birds and my annual feeling of anticipation of spring. The last day of February and its FFFRrrreeezing FFFrrrrridged temperatures will be released to the first day of March which, in itself the letter M just sounds appealing. MMMMmmmmmmm. Like a warmmmmmm spring breeze, the smell of a good cup of coffee or freshly baked bread. The first crocus of spring or the first splash in the lake on a hot Summers day. Anticipation, however, is not for the faint of heart. My children do not understand the concept yet. Santa, the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy all keep the sparkle in the tapestry of life for the kids. They grant me amnesty with these Kinder-Deities because they know that they operate on a schedule that is regulated by the calendar and adhered to by the child population; Overnight delivery on these items is not available. However, the thought of having to wait an hour for the heralded arrival of a prime-time playdate is torture. If it is in my power to expedite five minutes of wait-time they will beg and plead for me to achieve this goal. It is for this reason that I don't tell them anything until the playdate walks through the door. For adults, anticipation takes the grind out of the mundane. The void of childhood boredom adults are able to counteract with anticipation. That is why, I feel, it is such a luscious word. It brings light to a darkened room and effervescence to a gloomy day. Washing dinner dishes is much less severe when one can loose themselves in dreamy anticipation of their upcoming Caribbean vacation or the song that could be set free on ice or the smell that comes from brownies baking in the oven or the new season that approaches.
At what age do we make this shift? What are the markers? It passed imperceptibly for me as I made my way from child to adult. I am privileged to enjoy this amenity of the adult mind. Simply stated, I agree with Andy Warhol when he said, "The idea of waiting for something makes it more exciting."
My rusty blades took me by surprise. These new skates that I had purchased nine years ago I had only skated on twice. You'd think that everything would be in working order when I brought my son to the rink for some Trevor & Mommy time. Free skate at the rink we choose is virtually empty with the exception of two graceful Pilgrims that come down like Avatars on ice; their black leggings and sweaters fluttering with ease and agility to the movement of the music. I laced up his boots and took the guards off only to find rusty blades and what I thought would amount to dashed hopes of a fun morning. I was commited now. I had coaxed my skateboarder into hockey skates, there was no turning back.
Lashing them to my feet and feeling the unfamiliar stiffness of the boot we marched towards the recently zambonied mirror finish. With heightened senses we set our metal blades to the cold surface. Trevor's wobbily and unsure maneuvers preparing me for my own regardless of the years of morning and evening practises I attended as a young girl. I was clearly back at square one...with rusty blades. To my surprise, however, the blades skated as if they had just been sharpened. Not a single moment of a forgetful edge. It was just my own confidence that needed resharpening. It had been 24 years since I had been back in a rink. We skated until the barometer of ankle discomfort registered with high alert on Trevor's face.
One fast forward and a $6 blade sharpening later, yesterday was Tatum's turn. She skated out there in her snow suit and pink helmet watching the two beautiful Pilgrims in awe and looked up at me to say, "Mommy, I have tears in my eyes because they skate so well and I am having so much fun." I couldn't answer because I was crying happy tears too.
2/21/08 - Upgrade the Operating System (design in process)
I need to upgrade the operating systems I am implementing with my children. I have moved past DOS when the diapers and sippy cups were thrown away however, last night I realized I am still cutting the food for my 7 year old, washing his hair in the shower and picking up all of his clothes. Whasupwiththat? Free downloadable versions of Anti-Hoverware are available for installation. Download today!
2/20/08 - Rocketship - after thoughts on 2/14/08 (design in process)
I have awesome friends. I love them so much for the different things they bring to my life and for what I can bring to theirs. Some of them are the first stage rocket boosters who excel in encouragement and confidence builing. They jettison themselves when they know you have gotten off the ground and are positioned at the correct azimuth - unassisted. Some of my friends are the second stage sequence who keep the project fueled and bring it to orbital velocity. The third stage are the friends and family that stay along with you for most of the whole ride purely by desire to orbit numerous times. They enjoy the ride equally. Each of these stages 1-3 jettison after different timing strategies whereby the space capsule is manned only by one. While in orbit the cosmic tumblers aligned and permitted me to be a conduit for the Divine. Without my friends I would not have had the opportunity to be launched last week. I am grateful to them - always. I returned - flaming back towards earth having accumulated new friendships, a new sense of empowerment & a humbled perspective of the Universal Answering System responding to conviction.
My daughter, Tatum spent 20 minutes this morning carefully drawing a picture of a windy day. The wind made with a black magic marker line swirled in random circular patterns surrounding a single figure drawn in green. She clothed this figure in orange and took great pride in signing her name at the bottom. She asked if I might sign her teacher's name at the top. Tatum folded the picture up, trundled over to the desk and before I knew it had found a perfect envelope, sealed it and wrote her name again on the cover. She looked over her shoulder with a pencil poised in her small right hand and asked, "Mommy, how do you spell ' I love you?' "
Tatum loves her teacher, Mrs. Brown just as I loved my first grade teacher Mrs. Kitson. It is a love I can't really quite seem to fathom even to this day. I find myself becoming overwhelmed with emotion even at the thought of her kindness, caring and peace she radiated. When I graduated from College I went back to my elementary school in Riverside, CT and brought her one single Delphinium; A flower that I felt captured her height, grace and gentle aura. I walked into the school not even knowing for sure if she still taught there but trusting my instincts that she did. The front office staff directed me to her classroom where she sat at the end of a busy day. She was by herself. I came unannounced, could barely utter a word, couldn't even tell her who I was but just hoped that she would remember who this 5'10" body might have, at some point, resembled 15 years prior. Similar to age 5 it must have been my shaky voice and the tears that I tried to hold back that revealed my identity because 3 days later I received a card of congratulations from her in the mail. Only today was it made clear to me what I had to say to her that day. It was the same thing that my daughter so easily expressed to her teacher this morning; A simple I love you from the heart of a child who now has her own children the same age that I was when I had the priviledge of being in her presence. She still teaches at Riverside School. Tomorrow I am going to send her an "Apple".
(I've gone through three kleenex in the process of writing this. Happy tears are good.)
2/5/08 - Thru the Dirt - reflections of Trevor's Self-Perception
I don't go away very often. Not because I don't want to mind you. So, thank goodness for sister's birthday "obligations" or I would never be allowed to leave. In just a four day trip I returned home to a very different energy. Trevor's normal default setting of "Woe is I" had disappeared. In it's place was a gentle, happy, sparkling manner that I remembered from his toddlerhood. It was as if I could see a bright ray of light shining from the top of his head; A lighthearted contentment where everything was alright with the world. No longer did I feel it necessary to be so close on stand-by with the fire extinguisher to manage his doom and gloom. I remarked on my observation, "Trevor, I am loving the rays of sunshine that you are radiating today." Without a second's hesitation he replied, "Yeah. The flower has pushed through the dirt."
1/30/08 - Out to Pasture
I have recently decided to put my pony named "Fear" out to pasture. It is a hard decision as this creature has lived with me so intimately for the past 40 years. It is not a comfortable decision to make. I enjoyed grooming him, feeding him and taking him for rides - albeit slowly. His short little legs buckling under my weight we were able to enjoy lots of safe times in the stable and the field. In his place has arrived a unpredictable Thoroughbred named "Courage". He's a young guy but moves swiftly with grace and confidence. Mind you I am still the scared rider but I have made the decision to progress further and farther on "Courage" than I was able to on "Fear".It was after a run that Krista and I took on the morning of Dec. 24 where we decided that this year we were each going to conquer 10 things this year that scared us. Since then the list has been shortened to three. Where she is planning to overcome her fear of throwing a dinner party, I am faced with the task of relinquishing my anonymity with Jewel Tree. Self promotion is not my strong point but with the company of complimentary talents I look forward to the everchanging perspectives to which "Courage" will take me.
1/27/08 The Eagle and the Wren (Thoughts on February 14, 2008)
Is a fable retold by Jane Goodall is one of my favorite Children's books. It is a book that was published when my son, Trevor, was two years old. It tells of a story of different birds all individually claiming that they can fly the highest. The Ostrich points out that even though he has wings he can't fly. He relays his self acceptance that each bird flies to a different height for a different purpose. In the end the Eagle flies the highest and at his pinacle of height and exhaustion he hears a small voice peaking its head out from beneath his feathers. A little wren flies above him having ridden on his shoulders the whole way. The Eagle can fly no higher but the wren flies off above him. The wren says, "don't worry Eagle you won the contest. I always wondered what it looked like from high, high up at the top of the sky. Now I know. I shall always remember this. Thank-You." It is in the spirit of helping others that makes this world a better place. Jane Goodall writes, "I like to think of all these people, who have helped me in my life, as the feathers on my eagle. Each one has played an important role. Some of them are like big strong feathers. I think my mother is the center tail feather, helping to steer me in the right direction. Some people are the strong wing feathers, beathing the air. Others are th soft downy feathers that nestle around you when you are tired and old. Each one is valued. And what about the Eagle? I suppose we all have different eagles. But I know that my eagle is part of the great spirit power that is all around us, from which we can draw strength and energy when we most need it."
12/21/07 - Love at First Sight (events that occured 12 years ago today)
"Ohmygod Donna I have just met the man I am going to marry." I said as I stood at the doorway to our closet sized, windowless office. Donna's jaw fell. "Really?" she replied in her sweet, New England way.
Showerless, hair slicked back, lazy leggings and an oversized denim shirt, I clearly hadn't planned on meeting my husband-to-be this day. It's not that I took to this habit of showing up to work not having showered. It happed to be that the pipes in a recently purchased Cambridge condo were under repair and I was waterless. I had hoped, instead, for a nice 20 knot breeze on a sun drenched deck of a charter schooner. Halyards in hand, tending the sails, pink cheeked with exertion;A nice healthy glow. Nope. Not for me.
There I traipsed across the sales floor trying to tuck myself behind the door that read "Employees only" until I reached The Detour. There in the middle of the sales floor stood this tall, auburn haired, statuesque figure without a salesperson in sight. It was my duty as a customer service representative to see if he needed any help. "Is there anything I can help you with?" I asked? "Well actually, I am looking for a sofa and a leather chair." He said. It was during the first five minutes of the conversation and cursory shoe check that I had done a complete personality profile and ass-in-Levi's scan to come to my conclusion. December 21, 1995 was the day that my life turned on it's head as I watched him walk out the door, four hours later, my life hinging on our next encounter. On our first date in January, he asked me to accompany him to Alaska in August. On August 21, 1996 atop the Glacier trail near Homer, Alaska Jeff proposed. We trounced down the mountain to be met with a bottle of Dom Perignon that he had packed in. We cooled it in the glacial waters near our tent and toasted to our life that lay ahead. My Jeff, steadfast rock, motivated spirit, father to our children, provider and absolute menace when he drinks coffee - the man I married ten years ago. The man who has made all my dreams come true. He was, and still is, my Love at First Sight.
12/17/07 - Gonna Be Some Changes Made
Have you listened to the song by Bruce Hornsby "Gonna Be Some Changes Made"? Catchy tune. It isn't directly related to the thought I am about to introduce but it serves a good segue into a whole new approach towards my focus of making this world a better place. For several years now I have been contributing to The American Cancer Society. This became part of my grieving process after the passing of my parents. Now that I have had time to step back and see the larger picture it has become clear to me that I "Can't keep on doing what I've been doing these days ~ Better figure out something, Things are looking grave." ~ Bruce Hornsby
The American Cancer Society is doing great work. However, cancer is a biproduct of polution. On a larger comparitive scale, Our Earth is experiencing a type of cancer called Global Warming. I feel my contributions should be made towards the cause and not the effect. I desire to help the earth regain it's balance. It is such a monumental task and I sure can't do it all by myself but it is within everyone's grasp to make steps to change some of their consumption. So, get a grip on your new look of green under those recently installed fluorescent lights and know that we are all in this together.
12/6/07 - The Fall of an Empire
Do you remember the time you chose to try out THE WORD? I remember that February day clearly the year my sister turned 8. She had just concluded her birthday party. The last guest thouroughly having enjoyed the "at home" magician show. As my mom, Krista and I cleaned up the traces of celebration Krista took a firm stance in the arched livingroom entrance, hands on her hips and decided to give it a whirl. "Mom, what the F*** are we having for dinner?"
Aghast, our mouths dropped open in unison and all the air sucked itself out of the room. The dim lighting darkened further as if blood couldn't make its way to my head. Did I stand up too fast? Had I gone into shock? No, it was something far more extreme. I had just witnessed The Fall of an Empire.
Today, it happened again but this time it was a year ahead of schedule. My 7 year old (going on 14), who just moments prior was exhalting in the name of Santa, the Easter bunny and the toothfairy, took THE WORD for a spin.
It was as if he crashed through the windshield not having worn a seatbelt. You could hear the screech of mommy tires coming to an abrupt halt on the wood floors of the foyer. It was just a matter of time before this word infiltrated.
So, my next question is, how did my mom handle this? Why can't I remember? I made such a deal of the situation that my naturally inquisitive 5 year old daughter didn't even pursue the issue a moment longer. She new an egregious breach of order had been executed.
I am riding this roller-coaster with hands held high and brailing my way back in time to that fateful day in Februrary. Did my mom feel the feelings of failure that I experienced today?
I have found some reading that has assuaged my sadness in the most recent Oprah Magazine. An article entitled, "The Women Who Fell to Earth" by Martha Beck.
"Unscrunch. Exhale. Let go of "Oh, no!" and embrace "Oh, well..." Then whatever door opens, walk through it." That seemed to work for me - today.
12/4/07 - Let me tell you a story about my charter days out of Camden, Maine. After three years in the charter business, the captain and I had recently been promoted to our own 70' Schooner as a Captain/Cook team. So, there we were in our mid-twenties piloting this vessel with a full compliment of passengers for a week-long voyage around Penobscot Bay and beyond. The first day out, the conch shell as our horn, the lead line as our depth gauge, no radar, all the stores filled with ingredients to make 3 hot meals a day for eight people, clean linens on every bunk, the brass water pumps polished in every cabin, the fenders stowed away, lines coiled and a good supply of black garbage bags on hand to circumvent the drips in the foc'sle in the event of rain, we casted off the dock lines bound for adventure in fog as thick as pea soup. None of the passengers were aware that this was our first charter as a new captain/cook team.
Mid-way through our day brailling our way up the coast to Bethel I rested my hand on the captain's shoulder with a reasurring comment that went something like this,"Don't worry. It can't get any worse." I don't say that phrase anymore.
The next day, after an uneventful passage and peaceful mooring spot in Bethel harbor, we were greeted by the promise of sunny skies and a beautiful wind. We headed out around 10am, fish chowder and fresh biscuits cooking in the galley. All was well. The passengers helped raise the fore and mainsails. I trimmed the sails with ease. At 12:30 everyone's appetite piqued with the salt air and unfamiliar movements while underway, we all enjoyed a hearty bowl of fish chowder. Suddenly, the baseball caps of all the men on deck were blown overboard. The wind had taken such a radical and swift shift that the updraft swept them into the air and right over the side. It was at that moment that we saw the black wall of weather begin to make it's evil descent. It came in such a hurry that the reef points never even got their chance. Before we knew it the wall of weather and all of it's 60 knots of wind sent us to our knees. Passengers were in their life vests holding onto the masts with the staysail flogging itself into shreds. Both the fore and mailsails were dropped in such a hurry you could almost see the disappointment in the frowns of the reef points that were laying listless on deck. The underpowered engine huffed and puffed trying to keep the bow faced into the wind, never mind try to make any headway. The radio was peppered frantically with transmissions from every other single vessel that was caught so unprepared - most of the calls left unanswered by the Coast Guard. As the wind abated we were able to make our way into a nook of a cove off of Islesboro; the wind so intense that we hunkered down there for two full days. The captain and I kept our game faces on, certainly we had experienced worse during the delivery of the Roseway from Maine to St. Thomas two years earlier during the conditions that, afterwards were refered to as "The Perfect Storm"...
So, this June I was in Maine with my two children. The first day of our two week stay they predicted hail. The weather forcast was ACTUALLY accurate. However, for the following 8 days they had the same forcast. By day 9 (stir-crazy quotient at max-capacity) I decided not to watch the weather station for the remainder of our visit. We packed our daypack and headed for town. Our two-hour sail aboard the Bay Lady out of Boothbay Harbor proved a gorgeous day with great company and a competant crew... and then my hat flipped off my head. The wall of black clouds and thunder started approaching right after I took the inspiration picture of Reef Points. How quickly I was reminded of the events from my past and how grateful I was that we were brought back dockside with enough time to scurry back to the safety of the car. There is something tintilating about the power of nature, the risks of the adventure and the glory of making it through a good storm unscathed. There is also the reassurance of safety checks along the way of life - packing your pocket with the emergency kleenex, chap-stick, seat belts, spare tire, showing up to work with a pencil and a pocket knife ( what my dad always required of his employees), and never leaving the dock
*note: Reef points are used to reduce the amount of sail area during heavy winds. They appear on both sides of the sail and are tied around the boom
11/16/07 - I am going to let down my guard and admit something. This whole experience of living life deliberately is exhausting. Hence the gap in journal entries. I needed to step back a moment and recover from wind burns. I put BOTH kids on the bus for the first time this August. Does this mean I made it? Yes...this motherhood thing is not for the faint of heart. I feel that I am regaining momentum and finding the seven hours of time enough to get into my creative space. It is important to stay open to the synchronicity of life and how elements present themselves just at the right moment.
4/05/07 - "Full-Tilt-Boogie". Technical term. Or should be. In my Julie Dictionary of Living Large this phrase has been used frequently over the past four months to describe the wish that is manifesting of how to live my life deliberately. My mind stutters with inescapable emotion & unworthy descriptions of greatness for the abundance I have the privilege of experiencing every day. When I become personal friends of Oprah and Ellen's I know that the universe has been listening VERY, very closely
You should have seen the centerpiece for the Christmas jewelry show. You should have experienced the Lunar Eclipse Benefit - SEEN the Fine Line Theater Arts Dance Troupe, Alessandra Greco (daughter of the late Jose Greco - renown Flamenco Dancer) & TASTED her gourmet Hat City Truffles, HEARD the house Vocalist and Acoustic Guitarist, Jeff Bowes or the "Eclipsed Band" comprised of Babi Floyd, Andrew Throupe, Lou Loria & Glen Thorpe, FELT the rhythm on the dance floor until everyone had to relieve their babysitters. If you experienced - YOU KNOW...it was an event in time and space that was sheer Transportation of sensory fulfillment.
In addition, last weekend's Breath of Spring Craft Show was my first of many more to come. For those of you who enjoyed the energy of the afternoon and had a chance to meet my sister, Krista, we both send our Thanks out to you for your bright spirits.
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10/24/06 - Snapshot of my night table - is where you will find the roots of my tree absorbing information to keep me alive, authentic, present and abundant. At the day's end, books are my sanctuary, my transport, my solace. Bookmark.
9/24/06 - 9/29/06 - The passing of time. Rote tracks of motherhood or The Rolling Stones from the back stage perspective? Without a good network of my "Rock Star" moms, to care for our children, this multi-tiered level of spontaneous events would have never manifested. The boa was required by the greatness of the company we held, the limo and the moments never to be forgotten. Highlights: The process of finding "The outfit", preparing the food for the limo ride, our lucky charms Davison Floyd and Jimmy Nelson (author of the song, "Time is on my side"), youth and wisdom - the combination thereof - that facilitated a cosmic swirling of entities to experience history back stage at the Rolling Stones where Keith Richards and Jimmy Nelson were able to meet, and last but not least, the amazing smile on my husband's face.
To have witnessed everything from the mass of tracktor trailers for their gear, the endless assembly of employees to stage such an event, the devoted fans we were privileged to sit with who knew every single word to every single song, the pyrotechnics and the undying - ageless love for what all the talented musicians put forth - sheer mastery. So, for this occassion I designed this necklace along with a extra-fine scripto in my back pocket with the hopes of attaining the band member's signatures on each of the white "keys". The excitement and positive vibes that encircled us was palpable, exhilarating and continues to fuel my step. Rock On.
7/21/67 - This is my invitation to my 39th birthday party:
"Have you made one too many Peanut Butter and Jelly sandwiches? Have you ever been accused of "needing to be run on the dance floor like a puppy?" Have you ever secretly wished to be in the car with the loud bass that you can hear with your car windows rolled up? In that case come on over and dance with the rest of us Moms from 9 - 11:30 a.m.. Mimosas, wheat-free carrot cake, and wild berries to be served amidst some fabulous tunes." Scritty Pollitti anyone, anyone? All I can say is that I hope everyone in their lifetime gets to experience that amount of BLISS. (Yet to be designed....)
3/11/06 - Momnapped - never in my life have I felt so celebrated, appreciated and understood as this past weekend. Krista and her partner decended like angels from above and swept me away with the spontenaiety of my youth. I left my mom shoes at the door and headed west in my kick-ass Lucchese boots for 24 hours. The passage of time equating to approximately 3,000 glasses of Merlot, 3,000 decibels of accumulated laughter and a depth of conversation, appreciation and understanding that was delivered right at the precise moment. After a visit to the top of the Empire State Building, Andreas Boccelli and the sunroof open towards the soaring skyline delivered us to the door of where my sister describes as my need to be "run like a puppy on the dance floor"; a cathartic and rhythmic purge of energy until the wee hours of the morning...(Yet to be designed...)
2/3/06 - Krista's birthday - 37 years old, 21 years of them with the two of us as friends. Indeed a stormy childhood hate/hate relationship that has grown and prospered into loving appreciation and best friends. She is an avid appreciator of music - (Iceland's 'Sigor Ros' high on the list which I am now so proud to say how much "I get") - hip - fit - progressive - gay - hot commodity - brimming with integrity and a personal magnetism that surrounds her with a devoted set of groupies - myself at the top of the list. I am so proud to have her as my sister. This world is a better place with her in it. This necklace is a reflection of her modern yet grounded sense of style and the number 3 which happens to be defined in Numerology as such:
"Being born on the 3rd day of the month is likely to add a good bit of vitality to your life. The energy of 3 allows you bounce back rapidly from setbacks, physical or mental. There is a restlessness in your nature, but you seem to be able to portray an easygoing, sometimes "couldn't care less" attitude. You have a natural ability to express yourself in public, and you always make a very good impression. Good with words, you excel in writing, speaking, and possibly singing. You are energetic and always a good conversationalist. You have a keen imagination, but you tend to scatter your energies and become involved with too may superficial matters. You are affectionate and loving, but sometimes too sensitive. You are subject to rapid ups and downs." (Astrology-Numerology.com)
10/17/05 - Lux Aeterna to my best non-Latin training would seem to me" Light Eternal". It happens to be a Choral Requiem composed by Morten Lauridsen, performed by the Los Angeles Master Chorale. It is a piece of music that my mom would have loved and that was suggested to me by my sister, Krista. Everything about this work she would have enjoyed; the soaring, etherial voices to the picture on the front of the jewel case - enduldged in mist and chiaroscuro.
The second time I listened to this CD it was an overcast evening in the early spring. As I bathed my children a golden light shone against the far wall beckoning me to the window. "Lux Aeterna" infused the room with glorious sound as the swirl of clouds, mist, wind and sun danced outside revealing a very clear and comforting visit from my mom.
9/24/05 - Rays of sunshine during an Outer Banks sunrise share the stage with the pure luminescence of my friend and adopted sister, Amy. An inspiration derived from both a place and a person heightens my awareness of interconnectedness and harmony.
5/8/05 - Each Spring I await the prolific blooms of the cherry tree that resides a few houses down. Comforting anticipation is held in this tree reminding me of the cycle of life. These blossoms will reappear year after year. Sakura earrings were inspired in the thick of winter by the need in my life and that of other adventurous beings as we embarked on life's opportunities. The grounding elements of rose quartz and wood will insure a calm and peaceful space amidst the flux of life. "Growth requires a temporary loss of security" - Author unknown.
1/26/05 - Have you ever...held your child upsidedown so that he could peel a banana like a monkey? It seems to be part of the ridiculous and sublime that encapsulates watching a child experience and process his life. With all I have experienced in the last year I have found little time up until now to enjoy the purity of spirit that radiates from my children. Shortness of breath, impatience and generalized stress has pushed me into a corner where the wave has finally crested. I am grateful to the friends I, without hesitation, call "my family" and the acquantances that I now can, without hesitation, call "my friends". The outreach of the universal human spirit has reopened my heart to finally be able to re-enter life.
9/27/04 - Last February after watching Good Morning America, going to a stained glass class and doing some errands around town my mother was finally seduced. It was the Red PT Cruiser that she had been yearning for - every day to and from her trips into town - those winking headlights, perky stick shift and tight little caboose; a nice package indeed. I was informed of her purchase through my informant - my sister, Krista. As it was too late to call to confirm this information myself I opted to wait until the next morning.
A bright voice answered the phone, "Hello?"
"Good Morning Mom, this is Julie."
"Morning, Jul", the name connecting to my soul and warming my heart.
"So, mom, do you have anything pulsing in your garage?", I inquired.
And with a sheepish response she whispered, "I am afraid to open the garage door."
Knowing that she had found her soul mate - her stylin' chariot - it was my intention to create a necklace. I requested that a friend take a picture of her in her new wheels; a picture of her and her bright smile waving from the driver seat of her new rig - preferably the wind in her hair and the sun on her berry brown face.
I never got a picture of her. She smiles from above and from the passenger seat my dad says to her, "Jeanne, let's go in the direction of that star."
In cleaning out her house in beloved Tucson she had a necklace in progress for she enjoyed beading as I do. This necklace was all red as shall be the necklace I create in her memory.
6/19/04 - Alicia graduated today. I felt so honored to have been able to attend such a momentous occasion. To my horror, however, it made me realize that my high school graduation was 19 years ago. Jeez. How time flies.
5/20/04 - Over the past week I have been given reminders of "light". A necklace designed for a recent high school graduate found it's way back to me for an adjustment which opened a door for some introspection and understanding. A simple design, worn by a "new" life, a life that still has lots to experience just having graduated from high school. I was propelled into a new series of thoughts as I sat with a close friend on a balmy spring evening. The clouds started to roll in and the lightning in the distance flashed. Her inner light expressed itself with an energy that was transferred to the skies. It was made very clear to me, at that moment, that life's experiences can be such a weight that cloud the light within. This necklace design reminds me of the uncluttered purity of spirit and the essence of ourselves we know to be true. View 'Inner light'.
4/21/04 - Other than listening to the gentle breaths of my children while they sleep the noise that calms my senses is orchestrated by the spring peepers. They have been peeping for over a month now. Early spring's tentative peeps have crescendoed gradually to the wonderful song I hear tonight expedited by the unusually warm weather. My appreciation of this noise was steadfastly seared in my auditory memory about 9-12 years ago during my time as delivery crew onboard various sailing vessels ranging from a leaky, vintage 125' Schooner to a pristine, classic 70' Italian yacht. My position as cook, in combination with my propensity of Mal de Mer, made these voyages the ultimate in character building (and weight loss). By the time we hit land fall in the Caribbean the first sign of relief was the sound of the peeping tree frogs, the second was the sweet smell of land and the third was a nice long walk on terra firma preferably walking in the direction of the nearest bar.Over this 30+ days since I first heard this years chorus I have tried to mentally design what a necklace would look like as something inspired by the peepers. What can capture the emotional effervescence that makes a difference in the way I perceive a day? Today I realized it wasn't a necklace at all but a delicate, simple pair of earrings. Earrings that just suggest a shimmer but don't scream for attention. They dangle to enhance but not overtake and leave both the wearer and the beholder (or the listener) more attentive to the beauty that lies beneath. View 'Spring Peepers'.
4/1/04 - I am finding grief a gradual process. Every day I reflect on my father's life each time coming to his frequently stated conclusion that "no one exits this life alive". As fall came and went, winter has come and (almost) gone, now spring has arrived. I am finding that each season needs to be reinvented and rewired in my consciousness to realize that my father won't be heading back east to Ocean Point, Maine this year. He won't be there to listen for the leaking pipes when we turn the water on during our yearly house opening. He won't be there knocking about in the barn or creating some delectable meal in the kitchen. He won't be there as summer envelopes us toasting to another gorgeous sunset. He won't be there to rescue someone's boat adrift following any heavy winds. He's not missed profoundly just by me but by all that knew him. So, bear with me in this process. I am told that things get easier. In the meantime I will continue to grieve through creativity. "Cairn" is a monument I made for my father while visiting a rock garden in the Catalina Mountains in Arizona. This is something we did together both for fun and also apart when we seperately mourned the loss of our Samoyed, Misski. Tourmaline and turquoise are both known for their healing,purifying and protective properties. It is said that tourmaline attracts inspiration and diminishs fear by promoting understanding while also encouraging self-confidence. Turquoise unites the energies of the earth and sky. All these qualities combined give me the strength to carry on in my father's absence. I strive everyday for my father's diplomacy and quietly gentle spirit. In creating and wearing this necklace I feel his guidance and strength.
3/23/04 - I woke up this morning and the mountains at the foot of my bed were covered in a veil of pink diffused light. If that wasn't amazing enough, for the first time in weeks I was awake before my little roosters. This was the picture I shot from the bedroom window at 6:05 am. The color of the mountains and the ice circles on Squantz Pond below seemed to translate well into a different twist on pink...See Room with a View...
3/15/04 - The bedtime routine at our house is unflinching. PJ's, brush teeth, wash hands, race around the bed and jump on the pillows. Tonight it was no different except for the moth that brought my speed racer, Trevor, to a grinding halt. There was a moth at the window looking to make his way to the light. What a great lesson that I learned from Trevor; to appreciate the minute and fleeting additions that pass through our radar and invoke such a grand curiosity. My lesson for him was that this moth was looking to fly towards the light which is what I hope he will always strive to achieve.
3/10/04 - Frequently I am touched by the interactions I have with different people. Our neighbors are some of those folks who have added to my life in so many wonderful ways. Their attitudes and contributions to the community and to me and my family make this world a better place. With great excitement and anticipation Alicia, the high school senior (and our babysitter), is about to make her leap into college. Both her family and ours are preparing ourselves for her departure. As of today there are 101 days until her graduation on June 19th. A preview of her graduation gift can be viewed under the Earrings page. The necklace will have to wait for unveiling until June 19th. The wonderful thing that she played a part in is the selection of her favorite color combination of khaki and deep red. I have translated her colors into taupe colored fresh water pearls and garnet. Garnet is said to be the "stone of health". Not only does it help to dissolve negative energy but also enhances creativity. In addition it enables loving energy to balance one's physical, emotional and spiritual lives. Isn't that what we all could have used when we were sent off to college?
3/5/04 - I brought Tatum to the allergist today. Where else would you expect to find fashion - right? In conversation, the doctor inquired if I had anything in pink. Pink (of course! I should have been ahead of that - I watched Oprah's fashion tips last week.) Pink is on the way...
2/12/04 - The Desert Leaf Magazine, Article by Jan Henrikson.
Jewelry As Meditation, Therapy, Art, Addiction
That necklace you are wearing, those earrings, that anklet - they're more than accessories. They are someone else's meditation, therapy, artform, addiction, and even someone else's chocolate.
These two sentences really spoke to me so I thought I'd share them with you.
*Proper permission has been granted by the author of this article for reproduction on this website.
1/28/04 - We had about 6 -8 inches of snow last night. As the snow fell Tatum and I watched it drift down to settle on the birch branches outside the front door. The snow was backlit by the landscaping lights. It seemed to glisten in a more three dimensional way than I have ever seen before. Perhaps I was looking at it through Tatum's eyes. It makes me think of one of my first necklace designs with 2mm sterling silver and 8mm fresh water pearls. I think this necklace has found a new name. "First snow".
10/7/03 - My father made his "transition" today. It was a little over two years ago that he was first diagnosed with 4th stage lung cancer that metastisized to his brain. He was such a spirit of hope the entire two years. We all felt so blessed for the priviledge of such a long farewell.
One thing that I am very happy I did before his death was to create a necklace design as a tribute to him. His sisters, my mother, my sister and I each have a necklace that I asked my father to "put his finishing touches on". His finishing touch was more than I could have asked for.
"May 2003 -The eclipsed moon shone down on this necklace; it then rested next to me until morning. The following night the full moon embued the turquoise with strength for life everlasting. May the spirit of love guide you forever. Your loving dad, Rudi"
It is my father's life that I celebrate - Celebration of Life. Consequently this is my most cherished piece of jewelry. Wearing it lends me a sense of clarity, peace and healing.
