Over My Head

Yesterday I woke up feeling like I had eaten a big bowl of anxiety for breakfast. My stomach had a pit in it, my heart was racing, and my mind was scattered. "You will never change. You will always be a micromanaging control freak night owl."

When Archer was four days old and "sleeping" his second night at home I had the same icky feelings and frantically sprang from bed to check on him. My phone flashlight caught him yawning like a baby lion and peacefully turning his head to the side. He was fine. He was fine but I still heard the healthy serving of anxiety churn and grumble, "You are never going to be able to do this. Have you seen the world lately? Good luck. p.s. Your joints hate you."

As much as I have tried to replace that meal with organic, gluten-free Cocoa Flakes from Good Earth (on sale for $2.40 a box) I still feel it time and again, and when I feel it anything can scare me. "RE will be driving on I-15 in two years."

Others with a stomach like mine can sympathize there is little worse than fear and doubt. I found some words in Isaiah that coated my digestive track like pink Pepto:

As birds flying, so will the Lord of hosts defend Jerusalem; defending also he will deliver it; and passing over he will preserve it.

How often does a plane (a bird flying) pass over my house? At least a hundred times a day. I just never notice because I'm not paying attention. For as many planes crisscrossing to and fro directly over my head the Lord is passing over, defending, delivering, and preserving me. He is looking on every minute I'm awake eating that horrid cereal and he's on standby while I sleep. I simply need to notice. I need to look up.

Pretty Potent

I have to do two things every day:

1. Eat peanut butter.

2. Something creative.

My aunt sent me a periodical called Where Women Create that depicts the inspiring work spaces of 17 female artists. I read the entire thing in one sitting and came up gasping for air. It was extraordinary! To see the varied studio spaces, hear what triggered their style, read their favorite quotes and see how they organized their outlets made me realize there are people just like me who, despite stinging eyes and the hour on the clock, hurry and make one yarn pom-pom before heading upstairs so we can call it a good day. Good days mean cracked fingertips, glue sticks, Illustrator, bone folders, staplers, watercolor pencils, punches, a black Pilot Precise pen, sketchbooks, swatches, sewing machines, wood, templates, things in the making and things finally finished.

I will make anything, anywhere, anytime. In fact, I have to.

Several of the artists claimed that Julia Cameron's The Artist's Way was a cipher and catalyst to their creative world. I think I need to read this book!

Here are some of the snippets that made me want to fly across state lines and oceans to find these women and ask if they'd indulge me in a soulmate crafternoon (assuming my stalking didn't creep them out):

Hannah Nunn, paper-cut lighting and wallpaper designer:

"I loved being mummy but the desire to make things never left me. It was like having a third child pulling at my skirts, demanding attention, and as much as I tried to put it down it wouldn't be ignored."

Yes! Yes! Pulling at the skirts!

Jenny Eve Van den Arend, textile mistress and exotic couture garment maker:

"(Creativity) is essential, it is my protective cocoon, my yurt." 

Cocoon, like the big brown one in "The Very Hungry Caterpillar"! Yurt, like where people sleep on the Oregon coast!

Judy Olafson Murrah, quilter, sewer, fabric designer:

"Being organized with all my treasures is highly important for my design and sewing process. I need to be able to see all of these things or know where I can quickly and easily find them for the most efficient use of my time and space."

See, it matters that I wrap snippets around spools and file paper scraps in rainbow order and separate buttons by color into baby food jars!

Maya Pagan Donenfeld, recycled material artist (namely bins from coffee bags):

"Make something every single day, even if it's small. The act of creating is often a form of meditation. It nourishes the soul and clears the deck for new ideas to form."

Meditate! Nourish! Clear the decks! Namaste!

and...my favorite...

Anna Maria Horner, textile designer:

"Like everyone, I experience ups and downs in life that can affect my work. 2013 was particularly rough. In the span of six weeks I lost my mother to cancer, gave birth to our youngest daughter, became seriously ill, and suffered a severe knee injury, all while being confronted with newborn care and the challenge of turning in my next fabric collection.

I was spent and uninspired but eventually was able to center the design work on the idea of healing, which was much needed. More specifically, I designed fabrics around plants and flowers that are used in healing, like botanical herbal remedies. I called the collection Pretty Potent. I was able to seek out and rely on resilience as a source of inspiration in the midst of hardship. Despite the difficulties that brought the inspiration about, I look back and see beauty; I see the good in my life."

PRETTY POTENT. Doesn't that just sum up life perfectly? To overcome toxic struggles by focusing on the perpetual exhibition of beauty in front of your eyes? I will make the exhibition. I can make my life beautiful! My paint-by-numbered days will be colored by delving into my caboodle of markers and sequins and spackle and hope and slapping them all together with a smile and a prayer.

2013 was shadow, 2014 was substance, 2015 will be THE EXHIBITION!

Safekeeper

 

Earlier this year I was asked to play the piano at the funeral of a woman I never met. Other than tinkering out some prelude and a few hymns my role was silent observer. At one point a wrinkled woman approached the pulpit and said in the microphone:

"Every person deserves to have a friend they can tell anything to and know it stops there. She was that kind of friend for 80 years."

I know a lot of loose lips but only a few secret keepers. How does the adage go? Two people can keep a secret if one of them is dead.

One thing I love about prayer is I can unload anything...the good, the bad, or the ugly...and know that it stops there. It is the perfect place to have no filter and the recipient is the best kind of friend.

"Isn't it marvelous that God, who knows everything, still spends time listening to our prayers? Compared to that cosmic fact what does the world really have to offer us? One round of applause, one fleeting moment of adulation, or an approving glance from a phantom Caesar?"

*artwork by Sugarboo Designs, quote from "The Tugs and Pulls of the World" by Elder Neal A. Maxwell (November 2000 Ensign)

Mockingjay

No, it's not really the Mockingjay pin. But it reminded me of it.

All this time, hanging in the jewelry section of Hobby Lobby, hid the symbol of my children. Archer and Aurora: my arrow and my dawn, my direction and my light, my strength and my beacon. I design logos for a living; it's so nice to have one for my life. This may be the inspiration I need to have a family crest forged.

Photo quote from the hymn "Lord, I Would Follow Thee" written by Susan Evans McCloud. Thanks to Bonbon for treasure hunting in my behalf.

Hangover

Scotch tape, pecan logs, sugar cookies, sprinkles, glitter. OH THE GLITTER. Glitter is never a good idea.

A nearly dry noble fir no longer supplying water for the dog. It's still teeming with 400 ornaments and the semi-new LED lights that smell like Made in China plastic aftertaste. Buntings, shiny baubles, hooks in the carpet, every outlet occupied. It SEEMED merry.

How do I need two more Rubbermaid bins to put everything away? I scaled back this year. I didn't even make Archer's stocking. Oh, oh no. I just remembered the caramel and chex mix variations and hot chocolate and 17 consecutive syrup breakfasts I made in December. *stomach pang*

I spent WHAT on postage stamps? Multiple advents, dozens of Christmas books, stacks of things to deliver on foot. HoneyBaked Ham, the pale blue Ghiradelli squares, and one solitary grapefruit. Oh, oh no again. I just remembered the pumpkin roll.

The doorbell did ring a lot. Internet shopping cause and effect?

Why is Greg insisting the tree stands until January? I've read how many mites occupy living trees. It's creeping me out and making me sneeze. I want that bad boy parked on the curb and my sofa back in its spot. Red velvet bundt cake! I knew I was forgetting something. (Kurt! That's the one I left out! God bless Kurt!)

Ow. Ow ow ow. I thought I did Christmas responsibly. Give me a celery stick, a Clorox wipe, and a nap.