life stories: art on the go.

whether at the flying squirrels baseball game, 

or on the road.

i'll use my hands to create. 

i take the time to dream of new designs that bring delight through color + story.  

and i'll meet the requests of others who ask for what they want.  

i learn from them, for it's a lesson i can sure use.  ((asking for what i want.))

and i stay centered in the moment. i can get lost in the colors of creation that surround me as i walk, move, and have my being.  i can get lost in the love of creating.  stitching, cutting, designing.  i can listen all the more to my love and my sweet boy.  i can stay centered, right to the core of my being.  that sacred centering, that act of creating is a gift.  it's a gift and a joy and a way of living.  i attempt to use all of my being in focusing on the moment, being present to what is, to creating, and to living a creative life.  

i focus on ways that bring life and bring rest to a body that travels. i find ways of being present to myself and others through grief and loss.  i remember.  i witness.  i listen.  i share.  

i become known and i seek to know.  

it's not always pretty or easy, but it's a life pursuit.  i love the practice to being in the moment.  in recognizing when i'm anxious and in need of calming, deep breaths.  recognizing when i need to put the creating art down and create memories with my sweet boy.  recognizing when to look into another's eyes and listen to their sacred life story.  recognizing when a sacred marking moment is before me and breathing it in, breathing in the memory and the gift of that marking moment.  

life stories: self portraits.

there just aren't many images you'll see of my face. you'll see my hands. oh, yes. you'll see my feet, of course.

i'm not sure why that is. it's the hands and feet that i enjoy taking photos of. i love seeing feet mid-step or pausing in the spot where they stand. i love seeing photos of hands holding objects at work, or at play.

i feel that you get a glimpse into my soul more through the work of my hands and the steps of my feet than you would seeing my face. though, it's the face-to-face interactions that i yearn for with my kindred spirits. i want to see you. to see you that sits before me and to see the you that is more than the skin and bones. the you that is singing, dancing, delighting within.

maybe that's why i know my studio is for me but for others, too. maybe that's why we believe in sharing family meals with folks beyond our family of three, but to our larger family and friends. maybe that's why i love leading retreats, facilitating small groups and worship services. maybe. just maybe.

and there are spaces where i hope to connect: in the studio, here on the blog, via FB and twitter. there are spaces that seem to take a lot of time and energy, but just don't. i don't let them overwhelm, but let them lean into my day for a moment and the i move on.

i make the bread. i bake the bread. i chat over coffee. i create art. i do a lot of things in a short amount of time. and i've learned a few things about myself on the way that i have a feeling might be of service to you.

i begin the day. whatever mood, whatever day. it begins. there's a time and space for the day that's at hand. all i have is the present and i need to be awake for it, whatever happens in that moment. then when it's time, i end the day. i close my eyes and rest, allowing my mind + body + spirit the time and space it needs for a fresh start. {repeat}

rather than dwell, i breathe deeply. breathing in, breathing out. releasing whatever anxiety or stressor that's set me into the spin cycle mentally, i exhale that churning out into the world. for instance, if someone has entered into my brain, like the inner critic, i listen and release. then move on.

i open my eyes. rather than ignore the pain of others, deny that death happens, hold my breath when fear begins to show up: i open my eyes wide. when i was a child, i believed that someone, something was in the room after dark with me. instead of hiding under the covers, i let my eyes adjust to the darkness so that i could see everything in the room. then i'd inventory what was there to make sure it was in its place. i believe i do the same now, in real and present ways.

as jayme and i were on one of our many walks & talks, i tried to articulate that i'm not good with drawing people, but i'd like to be. what i've realized recently is that i'm pretty good at drawing people out of themselves, shedding light on some of the goodness that radiates from them. while i'd still like to create lovely portraits of folks, i'll accept what i can do well and move from that space. hopefully by allowing you to see me through my inner workings & processing i can see you more clearly.

in the midst of chaos...

listening to the sacred in the everyday spaces, including chaotic ones, i am held to the truths that surround me. my focus over the present moments and the weeks ahead is to create meaningful, just, soulful, loving, memory-filled spaces for our family. as i behold through my call to create and daily art of living, i'll be sharing some of these moments here as usual, but with a special lens via my friend Mary Allison and her good work.

read more about MakeShift challenge to see goodness and holiness amidst the holiday chaos on the MakeShift Revolution blog and play along if you'd like.

life stories: bright beginnings

i'm always amazed when someone says to me that i've preached a good sermon, that i've spoken well, or told i'm good at what i do. i've heard a bit of this lately, and something of these good words is starting to sink in. i have the intrinsic value. i know what comes from my hands is good and that the process works within me.

it's a gift, you see, when someone offers these compliments. yet... it's hard for me to hear them, to take them and receive them. so i've made it something of a practice and challenge. first, i say thank you to the one offering the comment. and sometimes they repeat it because i don't know what i reflect to them, but they know i didn't receive it so well. i listen to those words over and again, offering them to myself almost as food. why? because those are never the words that stick with me. i am the one to hang onto the one slightly critical comment of the other rave reviews. i listen to those and give them more weight than should be given.

yet... there is space for bright beginnings. today i celebrate the good work that comes from within. i celebrate that the more i stand in the center of my being, the more i am more whole. i celebrate the recognition of my own life balance, both in the daily rhythm of life and also in the awareness and growth happening within. i celebrate the language i use and the way in which it has come into being over the years. i celebrate that by standing in my sacred center, i influence others. i hear your language changing. i see you take up that creative project and use your hands. i've seen some of you move from complaining to enjoying life. wow. transformations abound. it's quite amazing. i'm proud of you. i'm proud of us.

i celebrate what i know. i recognize the goodness in the work i'm doing, the work we're doing together. i know that as we move forward, move closer to healing, we are healed. i know that as we receive the gifts presented to us, we are given something very special and sacred.

there's a lifetime ahead and i am thankful. so, so thankful. i am reminded today that i need to move forward allowing whatever is emerging from within me to have the space, time, and energy to grow. i need to make the time for that goodness to happen. it just might be my gift to you. i want to treat it well, just as i want to treat you well. i feel this post is an echo of earlier posts, of my voice moving across time, saying something of the same, but with a different sound.

so, thank you for good words. i'm using a few here myself. a toast: cheers to compliments. and a wish: make merry as you look to your sacred center, finding your life balance and balance within you.

may you eat well, create well, and live well this day.

life stories: in the garden

a few images of stories from the garden in the back of the house. enjoy each image, draw in a deep breath, breathe out from the well of your belly. continue breathing deeply, breathing in light and life and what you need most this moment.

enjoy these images of my stroll yesterday afternoon as you practice breathing deeply. peace to you. peace this moment.

life stories: light within & light surrounding

there are many, many jars in my world. jars of black beans, magic beans, and loose tea. jars of vanilla bean sugar, honey, and rice. jars of buttons, ribbons, and treasures. each jar contains something of a story, a mystery, or imagination. some jars contain food for the body while others food for the mind & soul. i think of these vessels much like what we have contained within us: stories, mysteries, and imaginative lives. we have dreams and hopes and desires. we have passion within us. yes, the P word: passion. we take delight in color, in texture, and in image. we love this world. we love what you can do with old buttons, a bit of paint, and with lots of good light, what stops us?

of course there are darker days ahead, as we transition into fall and then winter. my heart aches during winter for the light of the summer. i am a leo, born into light and fire. i am one who seeks warmth and sun and shine. these are ingredients in need in my vessel, my body.

if i were cared for in a way that my terrarium is cared for, with the right elements layered in the right light, i would be self-sufficient all while relying on the resources that surround me.

so, my studio is being set up much in the way i create my terrariums: offering the layers of love and care, the good soil, proper drainage and sometimes a little something for refining. my wisdom enters this space like light, and when i open the doors and invite you in, i want you to feel the warmth. i want you to breathe in good, deep breaths that speak to you all the way to your toes. i want your spirit to soar and your feet to be planted in the good earth of the present. i want you to know your spirit and your creativity and your good presence here and now. i want you to grow. i'll do the same in this space, sharing the good light with you and others. you'll bless the space with your presence and i hope to do the same.

and i'll continue to look for the light in all spaces: the light that shines into my car as i travel from home to studio, taking in the good sun and giving thanks for a new day. i'll carry this sacred space within me where ever i go, and i'll open it up from time to time and let the light in. then i'll sometimes, in those really good and present moments, open it up and share some of my light with the world. maybe then we'll each stand in the light and recognize the truth within us, whatever that means to each of us, and give thanks.

life stories: a week of routine & chaos

we welcomed the return to a school routine pretty well. up early, lunches packed, the boys off to school. i exercised daily and showered. (always a good mark of accomplishment.) to off set these return-to-routine moments, there were the "are you serious?" moments: keys misplaced a couple of times, phone left behind in a friend's car, an incident poking my eye with a limb on the blueberry bush while weeding (as a cool down from exercise), smoking the house by burning something on the stove (which i NEVER do but have now), and my sweet boy burning his thumb on a curling iron after the warning: do not touch this because it will get really hot.

these are just glimpses of moments where i was a bit thrown off, a bit shaken, a bit dizzy. nothing life altering or worth complaint, but worth remark.

is there something with the return-to-routine that other daily habits get mixed up in the bag and poured out in a crazy way? is there a flood of creative thought that is tossing the daily living to the side and life gets a little muddled?

even conversations have been a bit muddled here and there, but mostly i've been so excited and thankful. seriously excited. filled with gratitude. i've found the keys. my phone is in hand. my eye has healed, abd the house aired out and now smells more like the lavender + basil scents we enjoy. the boy's thumb is healing. my love and i had a date night to the movies. i signed a contract for a new studio space. it's been a good, restful yet chaotic week.

there's always something in life bringing in laughter, tears, and a flurry of other emotions. i carry the families i've worked with in bereavement groups with me. there is always perspective as a sweet three year old is undergoing chemo and the effects, as adult children care for their aging parents. there is perspective and there is the daily present. i look at the moment as it is: the moment. i plan ahead for meals, for play dates, and set aside time to create and day dream a little. i light a prayer candle and stitch thinking of others, praying for well being and healing.

hopefully with each week there comes a balance with the crazy, silly muddles in life and the serious, good, sacred moments. of course, the sacred just as present in the crazy, silly muddles as the sacred is present in the everyday. the sacred is present in routine and in chaos.

so i'll continue to center each day. i'll walk and listen. i'll practice yoga and make time for silent meditation (a practice will be more consistent with). i'll sit and sew. i'll sweep and make peace. i'll return to calm and laugh, maybe even return to calm and cry a little. within each moment it will be what it IS. it will be creative. it will BE and i will be there present to each moment, routine or chaotic. welcome or surprising.

daily bread: good quotes no. 4

amen! ah, the spirituality of sweeping. what encounters of the everyday connect you to the presence of God, the Holy, or the Creative Spirit?

life stories: {this moment} if nothing else

if i can do nothing else than be present to wonder,

if i can do nothing else than honor the food from the farm,

if i can do nothing else than thank the ones who loves me well,

if i can do nothing else than love those whom i treasure,

if i can do nothing else than attune my focus to this moment,

if i can do nothing else than to simply be,

i can be well.