Recently in artist's life in balance Category

Maybe...just maybe...this blog will live again.

sometimes my patriotism does not allow me to be humble enough to see the contributions of other countries...

so many Canadians...

Joni Mitchell?...

born Roberta Joan Anderson.

yea

deal with it.

born in western Canada.

...in ft Macleod.

yea.

I am humbled.

my husband's kin...

now I am an anderson.

right on.

The Gazette did a little Q & A on my work. Tomorrow the article comes out in the paper!

Here is the Q&A.

My blogging has been hit and miss of late, mostly because so much of it is now over here.

And I was recently convinced to become a twitter-er.

And there's that darned facebook thang that needs updating...

along with my other art website...

and my two business-es...

any wonder?

Friday, after spending two hours on the freeway getting home with all the other poor saps that thought it was a good idea to leave early in preparation for the storm, I cooked a big pot of chili to take off the chill. The snow started to fall around nine pm and by saturday morning we had a foot. It snowed all day saturday and by late afternoon our deck looked like this:

The down side is that everything closes and no one moves. The upside is that everything closes and nothing moves. Happy to turn it into a party, Bryan and I read books, watched movies and football, and basically goofed off. Nice when mother nature forces you to take a "snow day".

It was a great night and before I new it it was over. After preparing the space and setting out the food, people started to show up and at that point I didn't have the presence of mind to grab the camera to show how many people you can actually fit in an 8' x 30' space! It was cozy and a lot of fun. Thanks to all of our friends who attended and made the evening a huge success.

cubbies filled with artwork.

illustration of "Journey" in process.

food for the opening.

The new signage for my little corner of the park got put up right before my grand opening. Makes it seem more official somehow doesn't it?

It may be gushy and annoying, and maybe even unbelievable, but Bry and I do not do well when we are apart. We don't sleep well, we don't function well, and we just miss each other terribly. And recently he was assigned to do some traveling for work that required him to be gone for a few days and back a few and then gone again. Five of these trips all while I was setting up my new studio was pretty intense and stressful. When he came home sunday night only to leave agin monday we decided...

enough is enough.

And since this last trip was by train I jumped on with him.

Besides, I have been working non-stop and finished my first class on saturday. I have not taken a day off other than thanksgiving, and even that weekend was spent working.

time to play a little hooky.

in philly.

Turns out Amtrak is a wonderful thing. And it is stress free compared to all the wasted time spent preparing and going through security for the "time saver that is air travel". After buying a ticket on a whim, and boarding within minutes, luggage in hand without being scanned, puffed with air, or cavity searched, I am totally sold on train travel.

Stealing away a little time like dinner, breakfast, and maybe even a few hours sight seeing before his gig, Bryan and I are playing hooky.

a very cool market... a section just for cheese... need I say more?

dinner at the continental... yea.

Looking out the studio window this morning and watching the rain turn into the first snow of the season. I give my first class in the new space today.

a day of firsts.

It is really all you want the morning after turkey day, a nice french press.

And it wasn't our intention to do the traditional T-Day dinner this year, with Daniel absent and my schedule all askew. We haven't yet adjusted to the new normal. But like the call of the wild by five oclock I was craving poultry like a salmon needing to swim upstream. On the hunt for a last minute bird, just missing Safeway locking their doors, we managed to get into Giant just in time. Cooking at five thirty we were eating by 8:30 which I think constitutes making it just under the wire in Turkey time. And the great thing about doing it late, is the bird was half off.

A lovely french press morning.

The late night, last minute, poultry scramble.

It will take some getting used to, having folks come in and out as I work. I had some nice ladies from NY that took me quite literally when I said, "come on in, don't be shy". Before I knew it they were milling around the workshop area poking at all the work in process...

what a hoot.

I am so happy that people seem to be comfortable in the space. Today really was the first day that I was open to the public while wielding the torch. And it was interesting to have people watch and ask questions. It is what I would hope for if I was a visitor to an artist studio.

So between the visitors, I managed to get a little work done for the holiday sale at Glen Echo's Popcorn Gallery. (they call it the popcorn because it used to be the parks popcorn stand and has this giant deco sign "POPCORN"...very charming)

Still pulling things together, but I actually managed to make some jewelry yesterday. New tools arrived for the students and I had to laugh at the fact that they are better than the ones I have been using all these years. Especially the pliers. I have used the tools that I originally bought when I was a student and it never occurred to me to buy something better.;-) After being at the studio most of the day, I cam home to finish
the new website for the studio. It was quick and basic but it gets the job done.

I am posting this a few days after the fact because I haven't quite worked out the habits of what to take to the studio (camera cable) and what to leave on a daily basis. Today I am home working on some promo material and happen to have the stuff in one place.

I just have to say how grateful I am for the folks at Glen Echo Park for the system that they have set up for rolling out an artist. Having had to do the self promotion end of my craft for years (my least favorite part and for most artists that is true) it is really nice to have this amazing support system. Even though the park takes a wee percentage of class tuitions which means it makes sense that they promote their artists, still some studio settings just don't have that. And promotion is one of those things that some artists just never get around to doing. It is hard work, and most of us would rather be doing the art.

Pre-reception food set-up. Three unsung heros... Jennifer, Sharon, and Meredith. Jen and Shar are the promo gals, and Meredith holds the post of Education Program Manager which is like herding cats when you consider that all the instructors are artists. She manages to wrangle us all with a gentle grace and patience. A huge task. And she was my original gateway into the whole process that landed me in this amazing place. Thanks so much you guys!

the view out my studio window of the vintage carousel.

from inside the back of the studio

encouraging words over the student stations. Dream, Imagine, Live... and over my work bench..Keep it Simple(not shown)

my vintage treadle polishing machine finds an appropriate home here.

I am almost completely moved into my new creative space minus incidentals that I keep forgetting to stick in the car when we leave each morning, coffee in hand. Yesterday was my first sort of official day as an artist-in-residence here at the park as I attended my first resident meeting. I was also fortunate enough to be visited by Glen Echo Park's governing board members last night at a little reception held in my studio and the lobby space outside it.

Wow.

I lost count of these esteemed folk that popped in to ooh and ahh at this newly transformed space and the promise of creative opportunities that it offers would be students.

I even met the mayor.

I have to admit to feeling a huge sense of pride watching jaws drop as folk entered the space to have a look around. I fielded numerous questions about the classes, silversmithing as an art form, my work specifically, and even... "what is in the crock pot"? (that would be a silver cleaning agent called 'pickle'".

A few of my fellow residents popped in too, and that was absolutely wonderful. My hopes were proven right that this is truly a vibrant art community where each artist seeks to build the other up. I was given some great tips for marketing to the local area, and lots of encouragement. As well as an insistent buyer of some of my cards.

Shades of what could be the soul of exnihilo.

I couldn't have asked for a warmer welcome.

Well so much for reporting the day by day, instead it has fallen to the weekly interval. But, much was accomplished this week in spite of missing my hubby helper who has been an uber-busy business traveler.

Almost done, minus my office area (hence the ladder peeking through the curtains). The student stations are all done sans some wall embellishments like inspiring pictures of works in progress, or encouraging words. We got the anti-vibration rubber installed under all the cabinets so that the sound of hammering is transformed from a bang, bang, bang, to a tink, tink, tink. This will hopefully keep me endeared to my neighboring artists across the hall and on the first floor.

Much sawing and assemblage, nailing and painting... design and selection of things that will maximize the wee 8 foot width of this space. The thought put into the preliminary design has paid off ten fold as the room now actually feels much larger that it did originally. Contrary to popular belief, darker colors can actually expand the perception of a room.

Fortunately for this artist, there is a place called IKEA, and even more fortunate for some reason they have been over-stocking their AS-IS room. My visit there on an almost daily basis has paid off big time, from the discovery of a perfect workbench to nice wooden drawer pulls for 25cents a pair. Three places where I really splurged was the gallery flooring, the two beautiful glass cases, and the student seating. But at 250.00 for both, those glass cases bring the gallery to life, and they are lockable. And I have to admit being a little obsessive about the stools. I literally butt-tested a dozen different styles before selecting these (again, thank you Ikea) which came in a pack of two and are the most comfortable stool I have ever sat on.

Hey who can be creative with a sore butt?

And they add a wonderful zen sort of style to the space and fit perfectly in the little niches.

Yea... I am really obsessive about the student experience. But I have always been highly sensitive to how a space can help or hinder the creative process. The muse needs a happy and inspiring place to live, and that includes a lot of things...

functionality,
comfort,
beauty.

All of these things feed the muse, and my hope is in this new creative space that I can help other would-be artists to be inspired.

There is still much left to do in the next few weeks. Preparing for the classes that start Dec 2nd and are posted here and all the finishing touches and tests (like a torch test to make sure my flames don't set off the park's fire alarms;-) It is a wild ride, but already the studio feels like home with my tools and supplies mostly moved in.

My official grand opening will coincide the reception for the park's holiday show on Dec 12th from 7-9. So if you are in the area please stop by for a glass of wine and a peek at my new creative home.

view of gallery into office

view from gallery into workshop

student stations and very comfy stools

25 cent drawer pulls

before shot

I finished the floor for the gallery portion of the shop last night. Of course all that up and down motion makes for a sore back the next day. Little bits at a time as I load up the element with as much as it can carry each time I go. There is still a sound proofing rubber matting that needs to be attached to the base of every cabinet before we put them in place. That rubber will help quiet the hammering and machine sounds. I am hoping to be completely moved in, up and running by next friday.

Sunday morning we have some construction at home before making the trek to the studio. The large butcherblock countertops need to be cut in half and we need to make pedestals for the cabinets (2x3s). Bryan begins this task and I head toward the hardware store for more paint, glue, and some other misc stuff. Painting the legs once he has them assembled, we hope to be in the car by noon. I am steering clear of the countertops until they are cut down. I made the mistake of not doing this and employed Daniel to help me unload them from the car last week, only to take a nasty tumble and landing flat on my face on top of one. Like getting hit in the face with a board, I ended up with a fat lip and a reminder that my less than five foot stature may not allow me to do such heavy lifting.

Darn it.

But it also reminds me how lucky I am to have a husband who gets into this kind of project, and can lift heavy items.

By noon we are in the car with a load of wood. It is pouring rain which is a bit of a drag. Getting to Glen Echo we unload everything in the 20 minute loading zone. I go to move the car and look down at the front right tire...

flat.

crap.

Again... Bryan to the rescue.

Hey, at least the sun came out!

More assembling. We put together two of the stools that I picked out to check the height for workability. Because the space is only eight feet wide, holding a class in here would be tricky if we used conventional cabinets which are 24 inches deep. So I opted for twelve inch deep wall cabinets to support a 13 inch deep counter. Each work station has about thirty inches of width which once we set it up and tested it, proved to be very comfortable. It is going to be a very efficient use of the space.

While Bryan finished the cabinets, I started to work on the office area which is on the other end of the studio. It will be slightly hidden by a large display case which will act as a room divider.

By five o clock we were exhausted.

Cabinets with butcherblock counter tops

Bryan putting on the spare.

The space is coming along.

Saturday...more cabinets, but with the right drawer hardware this time. The park is doing a "fall frolic" thingy for halloween, so we got to see some kids dressed up wandering the park, and occasionally making it up the stairs to my space. I threw together a make-shift display for the looky-looos... with a sign, "coming in november".

Friday...Multiple trips to IKEA was rewarded with some super deals. I was delighted to find the kitchen island that I had selected for a work bench in the as-is room for fifty dollars less. Of course the challenge was to then get the already assembled thing into my already jam packed element. Fortunately Bryan had packed the entire tool box and so when presented with the problem, I just pulled out the cordless drill and took the thing apart right in the middle of the parking lot.

Bryan had to work the morning, but then we headed toward my new space to begin the task of assembling cabinets. Part way in we realized that IKEA had given us the wrong drawer parts...

back to IKEA.

And more deals in the as-is-room.

Bryan assembling cabinets...

Loading up the Element with paint, ladder, and stuff... today I begin to paint the space. Color scheme... purple, green, black, and natural wood.

Put Daniel on a plane yesterday and picked up my keys today. It is hard to describe the emotional shake down that happens with so many transitions. Shifting of focus can be a little disconcerting, but also invigorating. New creativity gets jacked up for me in these moments.

Now its pedal to the metal to convert the space.

Well, the good people of Glen Echo Park selected me as their newest artist in residence.

I am honored.

Yesterday I signed the contract, and Tuesday I pick up the keys to what will be my new studio and gallery. It is a wee 345 square feet, and has challenging proportions but after modeling it to the inch with the help of sketch-up, and of course Bryan, the most supportive husband in the world, I am able to imagine a very efficient and functional space.

As well as imagine a new chapter in my life as an artist.

As always it is a wild ride, and I am both excited about the possibilities in this new space as well as being a member of this vibrant artist community. A lot of very talented people make the Glen Echo community a coveted place to be, and I hope to add another facet to those offerings with classes in silversmithing.

Ironically the morning before I pick up my keys, I am putting Daniel on a plane back to Arizona. I have not gone into much detail about him of late because he is embarking on his own journey that is a wild ride which deserves its own very long post. All good, just unconventional, which seems to be the way us anderson's like it...

hey why be conventional?

But it is great symbolism to close a chapter then unlock the door to a new one. Especially when the building of this new one will package together everything that has come before it in such an amazing way, as well as provide what seems like the next logical step to our ultimate project in the bahamas, Exnihilo.

So I am posting below a tiny arial view of a space that in the next few weeks I will be transforming from a tiny room into an inspiring space. I hope to teach my first class by mid november which will be a stretch, but thanks to the Glen Echo people I am at least getting into the space a few days in advance of the Nov 1 date which is when I technically take possession.

So, as a way to keep my own record, the desert that has been my blog of late will become a day by day account of the creation of the space that will lead up to opening day which I have yet to decide on. It took a month from the last post, and much was happening behind the scenes before it made sense to post anything. Now the more tangible, visible work will ensue at a break-neck pace.

An artist's "life in balance" sometimes has to rock wildly out of control in order to exist at all. But the full-thruster moments are full of fun.

model of the plan. the space will allow for teaching a class of 8 people.

before. here is the space as I am getting it.

Wow, I think this is the longest stretch I have gone without blogging since I began five years ago.

I realized yesterday when I couldn't remember a particular thing that happened and whether it was last year, two years ago, and what month or season, that I had to keep up with blogging or parts of my life would vanish.

Chalk it up to short memory and a propensity to always be moving ahead, and looking forward to the next thing.

But here are some reasons why there hasn't been a single second for blogging. Bryan and I have been seriously nose to the grindstone on a great big refresh of avisualplanet. The last eight weeks have been jammed with details regarding software gremlins, graphic design choices, content creation, rebranding, and the bain of any web designer...browser testing. We are not quite there yet but I am hopeful. And the knight in shining armor who is my husband has been pulling some pretty late hours (4 am, 2am, etc) which I think is super-human when you consider those wee hours are spent squinting at a computer screen. At that hour I become cross-eyed and mental, and what we use to say... turn into a pumpkin. But we are almost done and the new publish day is looming.

So this particular season of time I have been wearing my digital artist hat without relent.

But that is about to change.

Stepping off a somewhat large cliff I have applied for an artist in residence spot at Glen Echo Park. It is a big deal and would mean some big changes. I worked up my proposal and submitted it last week and I went before the "panel" yesterday for an interview.

The park is really unique in that it mirrors many aspects of artistic journeying that I hope to incorporate in our Exnihilo project. A vibrant and exciting place Glen Echo Park has a long standing pottery studio (35 years i think) an incredible glass fusion studio (where I took a class last year for fun), a traditional glass blower, a photography studio, a fiber artist, a printmaking studio, a children's theatre with a master marionette performer, an established program in ballroom dancing, a painting program with a super reputation, and the new addition of the Washington Conservatory of Music.

But no silversmith.

I discovered this fact last year when I was taking the glass class, and was astonished. Mostly because traditional silversmithing is sort of one of those anchor crafts that is expected to be available. This skill being the third prong in my artistic arsenal, and the most honed and established one, I began to consider focusing on it again. I inquired about teaching and had a class proposal approved only to have it fall through due to ventilation issues in the classrooms they had available. That was last november. Fast forward through a follow up correspondence this summer, and the discovery of the artist residency studio becoming available and we are caught up to today.

It is weird how life's little experiences converge to make big ones.

Here is the studio that may become my artistic home.

I will know more by the end of the week about this new thing of many in my life that Bryan now calls Blair-ventures. Thanks hon for not minding the "wild ride".

Continued progress on this piece. I have no idea the direction that it is going but it is going. Just beginning to add the portals.

The Mystic
The Stabilizer
The Explorer
The Provider
and She

or

Family Connected.

I am awake now...

There is nothing quite like looking up from your studio desk and seeing one of these looking down through your window at you. In my solitude I heard myself say "Whoa" at the spit second that it registered in my brain what I was looking at. In fact, I should have shot the picture right as I saw it from my desk instead of going outside to get the shot. But you get the idea. It stretched out to about 4 and a half feet long and seemed happy enough to drape itself all over the stucco wall just outside my window.

Another wild thing to add to my list of critters that we have seen here over the years. Welcome to Blair's art studio and wild animal park.

Thanks so much to friends Phil and Karen for thinking of us and giving us tickets to a little piece of history...

seeing Paul McCartney live.

And it was like walking through history as his song list reflected so much of the last four+ decades.

And he did not disappoint.

I did however find myself reflecting on how much a person can impact their world with artistic expression, for some in great degree. Paul McCartney had reflected his world and all its highs and lows, peace and turmoil, throughout his musical career, and his personal life. I was so grateful to see his exuberance come across on stage, not as a pop icon, but as a real musician communicating with and reflecting back, his audience. It was hard to believe that he is 67, but I have to admit that he appeared older at the beginning of the concert. I could swear that he got younger and more energetic as the concert went along. Maybe it was just the going back in time as the bulk of Beatles tunes was at the end, and it was hard not to picture him in that era as he played those songs. It was also interesting to find out that the Beatles' first gig in the US was here in DC.

And now I get to feel like the family bookend to my sister who actually saw the Beatles live in Indianapolis.

His playlist was a grand mix of snipits of his career which defined the audience which was the broadest group of ages and styles I have ever seen in one stadium.

My favorite was Let it be, profoundly followed by Live and Let Die with complete (and unexpected) pyro effects that knocked this fan off her seat.

It was a well balanced concert complete with very heart felt tributes to both John Lennon and George Harrison. For me that punctuated how special this concert was, and how broad and successful a career Paul McCartney has had, and continues to have. I could analyze his life by pointing to the way he has lived it as an artist, "in balance". Having a long and true love and marriage (well the first one;-) hasn't hurt, and living as a Vegan and promoting safe practices in all the products that bare his name probably hasn't either...

enough analyzing...

it was a great concert.

Play list:
01. Drive My Car
02. Jet
03. Only Mama Knows
04. Flaming Pie
05. Got to Get You Into My Life
06. Let Me Foll It/ Foxy Lady
07. Highway
08. The Long and Winding Road
09. My Love
10. Blackbird
11. Here Today
12. Dance Tonight
13. Calico Skies
14. Michelle
15. Mrs. Vandebilt
16. Eleanor Rigby
17. Sing the Changes
18. Band on the Run
19. Back in the USSR
20. I'm Down
21. Something
22. I've Got a Feeling (with extended jam)
23. Paperback Writer
24. A Day In the Life
25. Let It Be
26. Live and Let Die
27. Hey Jude

Encore #1
28. Day Tripper
29. Lady Madonna
30. I Saw Her Standing There

Encore #2
31. Yesterday
32. Helter Skelter
33. Get Back
34. Sgt Pepper reprise into The End

Its the sound of my brain splitting in half. It is the sound of going from a blissful focus on painting, and creating in the fine-art tangible, touchable and tactile to the cold, dark, digital.

Can you tell which one I prefer right now?

Truth is I love them both when I am in them. Creating with the amazing digital tools that we have today would have made me salivate twenty years ago and I appreciate what they afford now. It is not that I don't love the tools and what they accomplish in both realms...

its the switching gears that I find painful, especially considering my last blog post.

This week I need to downshift back into digital world because I have some catching up to do in my "job". But the more I shift back and forth the more I start to wonder if I shouldn't just stay put in one realm or the other. Once creating full bore, I am just fine..

I guess it is the transition.

Like some sort of creative Stargate, the shift is like stepping into an uncomfortable space with the expectation that you will emerge on the otherside in one piece, powered up and ready to go. Once I am fully applied to something and all focus is turned on, it is great and wonderful and I get so much done.

It just takes some effort to get to that point.

So for the next couple of weeks I need to focus on the digital which means I may be on another planet for a while. I may try to paint in the middle of it, but that might be like mixing matter and anti-matter.

And that wouldn't be good.

We'll see.

Started this last wednesday. I was completely ambushed by the muse on this one, with no plans of painting at all. Spending time with our dear friends, the Myers, prompted some sort of depiction of their family and the beauty of their relationships to one another. I was also somewhat confounded by the muse's choice of palette, as it is not what I would have chosen off the top of my head, and I confess really wrestling with it as I painted.

sheesh.

This was a true example of just showing up at the canvas and holding on for dear life. And it is going to required the same sort of follow up as I have NO idea where it is supposed to go.

quite the ride.

So, I will be obedient to the next appointment and pick up my brush and paint and see what comes next. All I know is the "feeling" of the family in our presence, and I am assuming the muse needs to coax it out of me.

A wonderful outing to the National Gallery with visiting friends brought me face to face with Vincent again. The last time was at the Musee D'Orsay four years ago where I had to hold back tears viewing his work and specifically his self portrait.

Sure, I love "Sunflowers", and all the rest, but there is something arresting about his self portraits.

It's the eyes.

The vibrant, even joyful colors and energetic, flowing brush strokes of the rest of the painting contrast so strikingly with the solumn expression of his eyes. Looking at his eyes is like sitting in the center of a merry-go-round with the sensation of everything spinning around you while you remain still.

I wonder how he felt when he was painting it.

The bench.

This is just the beginning of the process to bring this bench back from the brink and onto greater and more inspiring seating. I hope to incorporate some textures and written quotes once the base design is painted. Again, my goal of this project (like the mosaic table) is not to overthink it.

Poised to go out the door for their next venue, the National Children's Medical Center.

Today was a day crammed with stuff, and it started at 8 am with loading up my work and hauling it down to DC for an exhibit titled "Essential Elements". Unconventional as it may be, it gives me some satisfaction that the hopeful and positive themes that seem to show up in my work (thanks to the muse) will be of some use in a place like Children's. Not knowing what to expect, we arrived at the center and entered to a brightly colored lobby with a ceiling about three stories up all hung with large air ballons. Just what you might imagine for a place for kids. In spite of the cheerful appearance of the place I couldn't help the feeling of wanting to cry thinking that this was a place where children were sick. Something that just shouldn't be. Hopefully my art will be just one more healing agent in a place that does such great work for the sake of children.

In the spirit of using the stuff around the house, my grout selection was a bag of yellow ocre-ish that was the second runner up for our upstairs bathroom. I swore that I would use it for this ever since. Although it totally changes the design by now being the dominant element, I was prepared for this, and am really pleased with the results.

Saturday.
mortaring the pieces into place. My justification of doing this now was to stucco a wall at the same time and use the remaining mortar for this "little project". I almost didn't make it in time as the mortar began to set faster than I was placing the design. It was a race against time, and my own fatigue after stuccoing the wall.

Sunday.
grouting.

starting another project while the grout sets. My husband shot this. Proves the ongoing..ness of the stuff we do;-) This wooden bench has been sitting outside collecting debris for years. While I was busy grouting, Bryan took it aside to pressure wash it, then brought it back and set it under my nose. Kinda like bait don't ya think?

letting the grout set.

closeup after it has set. The last thing to do is to use a stone or grout sealant on it which I will do in a few days after it has really cured. I love the fact that the finished design makes me want to treat the "paths" like a labyrinth walking it with my fingers.

This is a project that I have been wanting to do for some time. I bought this little table years ago at pier one and was really disappointed after one winter outside the tiles began to crack. So, of course the thing to do would be to turn it into a project. It also gave me a chance to use up some extra tiles laying around from all our various remodel projects. And to turn the unfortunate breakage of a favorite item into an opportunity (yellow glass) Of course even though I vowed I would only use discards, once I got into it I had to bend toward what the design needed.

"Honey, do you mind if I break one of our dinner plates?"

Yea, the creative process is what comes first in this house if you hadn't noticed. I needed something black and so in the last photo you will notice some black in the design. One of our plates sacrificed for the sake of the creative process...no I didn't hesitate.

This is the kind of project that is very easy to do if you don't overthink it. It is a very tactile exercise that bends the brain in a different direction that helps bring more inspiration.

1. demolition of an old table from pier one which in its first year outside began to crack.

2. prepped and sprayed

3. positioning the broken glass, tile, and such.

4. canabilizing a failed ceramic project.

5. all the pieces in place before mortar and grout.

I hope to have it finished this weekend.

You would think that trying to finish this in a time crunch would mean no time to blog. In truth without a break now and then all the colors start to blur, I go a little cross eyed and run the risk of truly screwing it up.

Breaks are good.

So I am taking a breather for an hour or so and then hopefully the muse will give me a cue as to what this needs. I have learned that when I don't know where to put my brush next it is time to stop for a while. When the muse is in control (I know that sounds kinda weird but it is the only way I know how to express it) I get cues on each step and it just flows. The only thing that takes effort now is that I am still somewhat novice with the execution with the paint. I don't have enough muscle memory stored yet for that. There is also the human frailty aspect (fatigue, hunger, etc) which all contribute to the "work" of it. Another reason that being "balanced" also means being physically fit. If you can't lift that paintbrush for more than five mintes, because the muscles in your arms are flabby then that becomes just another obstacle for the art. (note to self: need to work on upper body;-)

Lifting Hope... not quite done...just a little more.

The next venue for my work will be the Gallery at the Children's National Medical Center. It's really great.

The exhibit is called Essential Elements. Although I am not sure the content I am bringing fits that title (maybe just a little) I do know that the hopeful nature of the content fits the venue. My one problem...

The show overlaps with artomatic by a week. Which means that the work hanging at artomatic will not be in it.

It is a nice problem to have really.

So I am pushing to finish a new piece so that I can have what I think is an acceptable number to represent a body of work. Seven large originals. I could scramble and have giclees of the ones not represented, matted and framed, but I really can't deal with that expense right now. So the seven will have to do.

Dancing in Thin Places
Sisterhood
Sacred Women of Sorrow
Kissed by the Sun (Son)
Finding Ones Self
Lifting Hope

oops that's six.

sigh,

I may be able to paint, but apparently I can't count.

Lifting Hope... still in process. I just hope the paint will be dry in time for next week.

On this journey as an artist one makes discoveries that help along the way. And it seems sometimes like an almost mystical formula that makes a "balanced" life as an artist. For me, the formula includes simple things like enough sleep, and eating right, and more complex things like knowing how to steer your mood, and wrangle the muse. This discovery is one of those tools that help with the latter, more complex issue.

Feeling tired and spiraling into one of those awful episodes of questioning the validity of my work I put this on this morning for a little boost.

INSPIRATIONS

A rare gem even though it is a little old (produced in 97) this series of interviews of a handful of artists tracks their processes (both thought and artistic).A few represented are the glass artist Dale Chihuly, the eclectic musician and visual artist, David Bowie, and the famous pop artist Roy Lichtenstein who died that same year. As well as some others, a dancer, choreographer, architect, and sculptor. What is really great about it is that the producer really let the artists have a voice and didn't over edit for effect. So the result is you get honest answers about the sources of their inspiration, their process, and more specifics like "when is a work of art finished?". Each artist had a different approach to their creative process and by showing them back to back you walk away from the film with a sense of encouragement that there is really no wrong way, as well as a few great nuggets of advice and insights from several different disciplines.

I would highly recommend this to any artist.

Began a new canvas today. Lifting Hope.

After a tiring day at artomatic, and prompted by Bryan who wanted me to "sleep until noon and then paint all day", (am I the luckiest girl or what?) I am accomplishing at least the second part of that request. The muse has been activated by an invitation to do an exhibit for Children's Hospital.

Hey, how can you argue with a muse...

or your husband?

I am working remotely this morning as today is my shift day at artomatic. One of the requirements of being involved is to serve three volunteer shifts of five hours each. Doesn't sound like much but each shift pretty much blows a whole day. Especially when it involves getting downtown before noon. So, I sit here at Bryan's office (because we just have the one car) and will run one errand to pick up some new giclees, and will then catch the metro at 11. The volunteer shift involves everything from sitting and monitoring one of the nine floors to taking out trash, to monitoring the loading dock. Most of these tasks rate high on the yawn-ometer unless something interesting happens.

My first shift it did.

Sitting quietly by myself in the loading dock wishing for all the world that I had brought a book (even though they discourage it) the entire group of artists visiting from the UK came in to adjust all their shipping material. I jumped in to help restack the boxes that transported all their beautiful glass creations and managed a chat. What a lovely way to break up a boring day (or any day for that matter) than to meet this talented and very gracious group. Here is just one example of work coming from that group.

http://crispianheath.com

artist Crispian Heath

Frankly, I can't imagine the effort in shipping some of this stuff. But we are thankful that they did!

Just a quick thanks to everyone that came out for "meet the artist night" last saturday.

It is always great to get an idea of what you all think and what ways (if any) my work speaks to you. It helps remind me that even though I paint in isolation, and don't have a plan or agenda, that there is some sort of cosmic connection going on from-muse, through-artist, to-viewer. It is great when I see the message of the muse hit the viewer. It makes me feel like a conduit. Kinda cool and definitely humbling.

So thanks for your comments, smiles, critiques, and encouragement!

This unprecedented show of approximately 1500 artists in downtown DC is quite the deal. A couple of things that make it so unique?

1. taking over a building that is under construction and giving it a useful purpose for a month.
2. uncensored platform for all kinds of artists to strut their stuff, show there work, promote their cause or vent their angst.
3. great exposure in the DC area. With an estimated 70,000 attendees, you are guaranteed to be seen by somebody.
4. great source of inspiration. All styles of work are represented. Some really well executed and some not-so-much, but a serious bounty of ideas. 9 floors of creative explosion. How great is that?

Some of the examples...
abstract

whimsical

humorous

Here the artist depicts a different version of the terra cotta warriors using action figures

self expression
This artist pours out her angst over a stolen husband by revealing the culprit "skank", giving an alternative to making a life-altering mistake of taking a mistress... buy a "skank" doll instead...$100, quite a bargain.

fine craft
A whole group of artists came over from the UK and many of them were glass artists. Extremely fine work.

sculpture collage

clever sculpture using found objects

presidents as queens

This display of hand painted porcelain busts was a real hoot. Last year's version was even better though, as the artist used porcelains of Jesus. You can imagine the controversy.

fine craft-furniture
Some artists were not quite ready opening night.

and some were REALLY not ready

opening night crowd at the elevators

here i am slurping down some "chili-mac" at opening night.

Another thing that makes Artomatic special is the peeps. A tradition, this contest is highly competitive and involves creating clever dioramas using marshmallo peeps (yes those easter treats that no one really likes to eat). Posing these confections in interesting scenarios is a popular event.

Some of my favorites...

The China town Peking Peeps

The Rescue on the Hudson

And my absolute favorite was the Purple Tunnel of Doom, depicting those unfortunate "peeps" that missed the inauguration stuck in a tunnel.

It is meet the artist night at ARTOMATIC. You can catch me on the 8th floor just off of the elevators. Look for the red curtains (can't miss them). I will be there from 7:00-9:00.

See you there!

Saturday June 13th
55 M Street, S.E.
(at the corner with Half Street)
Washington, DC 20003
Metro stop: Green Line, Navy Yard, Ballpark exit
Free admission.

This weekend we got to go outside. This season has been very strange with record breaking rain and so our outdoor projects have been hit and miss, but this weekend we finally assembled the parts of the wall that were tentatively in place last year. This included taking old sections of iron fence and grinding it down, priming and painting it. One problem that had to be solved was the fact that one of these fence sections was seriously bent on a slant. Thinking this would be easy to hammer out Bryan and I were shocked when reality had another plan. Hammering didn't do it. Next course of action... my husband screwing the whole thing to our deck and then hanging off of it hoping that his body weight would bend it...

nope.

Final and last resort... enter the mighty Element.

Yea, I know, sounded kinda crazy to me too.

Bolting the fence to a railroad tie and then chaining the fence to the Element, Bryan hoped for an easy bend...

ya think?

As he backed up the car the fence indeed bent, but once he gave it slack to our surprise it actually bounced back. Determined not to give up, and frankly really needing this section of fence to be ok, he persisted. A combination of pulling and hammering finally got the thing into shape. I really wish I had a picture of it because it sounds like a fish story now.

At any rate, here is a before and after of the fence section.

At the same time as we were working on our fence and wall something magical was happening. For weeks now I have had a pair of blue jays nested under our deck. And today it was time for flying lessons. This little guy found his first few practice flaps in the safety of my grapevines. He was the tentative of the three babies, and their eagerness ended up being their undoing as they flapped right into our neighbor's yard (the cat people). Stopping our work we cringed as we could only assume that the screeches from the parent jays indicated certain doom for the first two. But this little guy managed to make it. It was really amazing to witness the instruction of the two parents as this newly plumed infant awkwardly took to the air.

Spent the weekend finishing up stuff for Artomatic, namely the kiosk which is the interactive part of my display. Faced with the small space and wanting in the worst way to show more of the collection this was a great solution. It helps to have a husband that is so technically savy that the putting something like this together is simply a series of problems to solve, which for him is all sport. He pulled off getting the thing to be unhackable while I designed the presentation pages to function almost like a website.

just without the wi-fi.

With that kind of communication tool it became more difficult knowing what NOT to add rather that what to add. So the "site" has a page for each painting, a press page, a bio page, a page that explains my process, and even a page to sign and leave a comment (hence the need for a keyboard). Hopefully it will be a good resource for the folk truly interested in the work and not just a magnet for anyone thinking that it is an open internet terminal. As we were leaving I overheard the 12 year old son of another artist regarding my kiosk with excitement thinking it was a game. Imagine his disappointment when he begins clicking and getting nothing but my art!

At any rate it is another example of us going a little overboard. After designing a single page about exnihilo, as sort of an afterthought I ended up going back and spending a whole day designing four pages for any artist interested in participating in our bahamas dream. And Bryan spent time programming the form to dispense the names into a database.

Yea, overboard.

The hard thing about gauging whether the effort is worth the results is you can really never tell until something is done if there will be results. And so, Bryan and I making fun of ourselves all weekend, concluded that you have to do this kind of thing for yourself, and be happy with whatever the outcome may be.

Here is the kiosk. I disguised the big white imac frame with a piece of masonite that I painted to compliment the rest of the display.

I think it is done, but I am contemplating it as another thin place, which means portals. Unsure. Spurning yardwork and other work I spent all weekend working on it (which was blissful). I don't think it will be dry in time to show for artomatic, but who knows. I seem to favor green when the subject matter is about growth (like formation).

Headed downtown to set up my space for Artomatic. All in all the day went pretty smoothly other than leaving late because we were waiting for my security hardware to arrive via ups. (little screws and bolts that prevent theft of the artwork) Opting to take the chance that there would be extra on site for us to purchase, we went ahead and took the work as well as the display. There wasn't but we decided to hang the work anyway hoping that the artists would be honest.

We will go back next week with the hardware, and the imac that fits in that void that you see in the pics. The imac will be a kiosk with an interactive display containing info and images of more work, bio, press, and other things hopefully of interest. With the difficult choice of what work to hang in such a limited 8'x8' space, Bryan came up with the brilliant idea of the kiosk. Of course us andersons always go to the nth degree with stuff like this so I was onboard with the idea in a flash. So I spent several days building what is essentially a website (that will never hit the web) for this display. With potentially 70,000 people expected to attend the event, I have the slightest hope of getting another gallery to take on the work, and the kiosk will help to represent the whole collection.

Hopefully it catches someone's attention.

It appears as though my beloved did most of the work, and that is true. My biggest portion was painting the wall and measuring out the space, but he is my electrical/construction/encourager...well he wears many hats and my work would not see the light of day if it weren't for him.

After about four hours of sweat, and one parking ticket (which we are contesting due to conflicting signage) we went seeking food.

Always on the lookout for a good feed, Bryan discovered Granville Moore's. Set in a somewhat seedy part of DC inside an old brick walk-up that used to be a doctor's office is this fabulous place that serves Moule frites (mussels and fries). The chef of this place won a throw down against Bobby Flay, and is destined to be the next food tv celeb so you know the food is amazing. A pile of mussels is served swimming in a yummy broth for bread-sopping. I chose the blu cheese and spinach/bacon, and it did not disappoint. The big bowl is plopped in front of you on ancient timbers that make up the antique bar along with fries with tasty dipping sauce. Yum. Contrasting with the rustic old historic building, the humble food was amazing, and a perfect way to celebrate an artistic day.

Time to pick out what to hang for that DC art bonanza known as Artomatic. This is a tough thing to do. I only have so much space and more work than wall. So, I have to choose what represents best which as far a themes go is my older stuff, but of course I want to hang the newest piece (even if it isn't finished ;-).

Of course looking at the work over and over again sent me into a very common emotional state...

"Its all crap".

If you do any kind of artwork and are not some sort of heartless atomaton you know exactly what I am talking about.

It isn't that you don't love your work...

or that you have self esteem issues.

It is just one of those things that happens to every one that has picked up an artist's brush to bare their soul. It leaves you a little vulnerable.

AND, for me my work is only as good as the last painting.

eeny, meeeny, miney...

Yup.

5 years today.

time flies.

The next public venue for my work, I am happy to say, will be DCs Artomatic. Today Bryan and I took the metro downtown for the mad dash for a good space. Artomatic, although having gained a great reputation for gallery scouting, is a bit of a free for all when it comes to artists. You register and then all the artists that made it in are assigned a date and time to come and grab a good spot along with about 30 others at a time. I am really lousy at things like this akin to open seating at a concert. Maybe it is because I am not quite five feet tall, and so anything that requires pushing your way through has no appeal for me, in fact scares me. But I was pleasantly surprised. They actually have a really good system and I was amazed after hearing that 1500 artists will be showing, that they managed to keep it pretty organized. The spaces are either 8 x 8 or 8 x 12 feet, and although I was hoping for a larger space, my first criteria was to get the first space as you get off of the elevator on our assigned floor. Our group had the choice of 3 or 8 and there was a dash for three so I opted for eight and got my pick. Phew!

Having attended this last year I experienced how daunting the sheer number of works is and knowing that the viewer can get a little weary, I was hoping to get a spot that would catch attention early. Last year we chose to start at the top and work our way down, so assuming others might do this too, I have a good spot. 50 thousand attended last year and they expect 70 this year for the 10th anniversary.

here is my space. Each artist can paint or embellish their space however they see fit. Of course this prompted a brainstorming session on the train ride home.

the view of the Capital from the venue

last year as attendees

A digital composite that I did for visualplanet.com a for earth day. It is an image of Orion and earth from Nasa(public domain), a photo I shot of the real exnihilo sculpture from the national cathedral, and my husband's hand.

Being good stewards of the earth was (according to the book of Genesis) our first and only assignment (well, and multiplying). It kind of astonishes me that this calling gets swept aside by many christians just because Al Gore managed to brand it.

While Bryan and I were perusing some galleries some months ago, we entered a potter's studio as she was working. She pleasantly invited us to have a look around and it was only two glances in that it was obvious she was a christian. She had a mirror on the wall in front of one of her potter's wheels that had something about prayer written above it. Little warm and fuzzy "spiritual" things were throughout her studio, and once my husband opened the subject with "what church do you go to?" we were treated with a kitchy church commercial streamed off of her laptop with her pastor as the starring role preaching against ego.

I found that kind of funny.

At any rate we revealed our "kinship" as fellow believers in christ which opened up this woman even more.

That is when things got ugly.

I was admiring her studio space and inquired about the cost of renting a space in the venue. She, continuing to be cheerful, began to talk about the folks in the building and made it clear that her neighbor was the "wrong kind of people" and would love to "send her packing". Wink wink. Then she talked a little about an upcoming event that the co-op was doing and it was "green", which was when she made it clear how unimportant THAT was and expressing her disdain with, "I don't cotton to all that Al Gore stuff". Wink, wink.

I felt like my head was going to explode. And I was reminded AGAIN why our prolonged sabatical has been so spiritually healthy. Backing away from the coolaid trough has helped me see a little bit as one who I would have otherwise labeled "lost" before. How we treat others and the earth is our witness, which is why the scene in the potter's studio made my head spin. In less than half an hour I knew that this woman did not love her neighbor, apparently didn't care about stewardship, found it very easy to judge others, all while christian music was playing in the background.

All because she thought I was part of the "club".

Now before you point out that, ahem..., blair, aren't you judging her?

Yes, I admit It, but what I can also say, is that at one point, I was her. And somewhere along my journey god gave me the choice to take the blue pill or the red pill and ride the painful birthing guantlet out of the plastic bubble.

And it was indeed painful. Identity stripping, crisis-of-faith, which-way-is-up, painful.

But it was also something else.

cleansing.

I am coming up to my fifth anniversary of this blog (May) which also means that I am coming up to the fifth year mark of being outside the bubble, orbiting the giant hairball, being backslidden, on sabatical, or whatever you choose to call it...out of the church, at least as an attendee.

And god is here. On the otherside.

Of course the journey continues, but sometimes there are spots in the road that have a clear horizon and others that make you feel like you are standing in a thick fog. Five years ago the fog had come in and yet there was still a spiritual beacon of light. Being a follower is like that. Today it is easier to look back and see some of the why's that god sought the unconventional from us as a family. And there were things that we had to give up which I still question god about. But having a new lens to look through has been a gift. And I am in no way suggesting that someone else's journey should look like mine. God leads without formula.

But I do know this. Christ called the pharisees of the day, "whitewashed tombs". And I am pretty sure they felt like they were the apex of spirituality, doing all the "right things". In like manor, all the christiany trappings, music, slogans, political affiliations, christianese jargon, and going to church, does not make a follower of christ.

When god peel's back the fuzzy sheep's clothing will he be able to find a substance of faith or a rotting carcass?

Been working and clearly not blogging (not that one necessarily excludes the other). With the return of that evil labyrinthitis a.k.a. Vertigo, I have conserved my seeing-straight time to anything work related cuz by three oclock staring at a computer screen has me cross eyed and headachy.

But I also know that in a year I will look back on my blog and try to remember what caused the gap, because let's face it I can't remember what I had for breakfast, so forget a lost month in 09 without appropriate notes.

So, I am still spinny but will forge ahead because a lot has taken place in the last few weeks. Daniel is off at an arcology workshop at Arcosanti in Arizona, the sun is finally out which means the plants are up and this weekend Bryan and I pounced on the opportunity to get outside and add to our landscaping project three years running.

mulch, mulch, mulch...

a little japanese maple

why we bought an element...

20 bags of mulch...

Artist date friday. Many artistic moons have been neglected in favor of chores like laundry, taxes, and a normal work week at my business. The balancing act is a tough one. In return for being a seemingly responsible human being my muse let me know I was not being a responsible artist. Feeling a sense of moody unsettlement and overall anger at the world my muse (and my husband) pointed out (again) that she needed some attention.

It is a balancing act.

And the approach to the canvas is a painful one. Like a potential lover that may spurn you with all of the emotional baggage that comes with that, the canvas looks less friendly. And it is a big one this time, which takes different technique and more time, which means more chance for failure.

I know that sounds dire... don't be so meladramatic. Get with it already.

But like so many good artist sages before me (inclucing my new fav, elizabeth gilbert), I chanted the mantra...

just show up.

The muse isn't disappointing me so far.

Saw this from my deck last week while taking a break from doing dreaded taxes. I didn't plant them yet here they are in my yard like a cosmic encouragement. Mind blowing when a week before we were covered in snow.

The encouragement didn't go unnoticed. I got my taxes done.

Ok I bumped into this in a couple of places on various blogs and had to add it here too just in case you missed it. This is a seriously great way to view the artistic experience which can run the extremes of ultimate joy to sorrow and self destruction. If you struggle with the creative process and would like encouragement and a healthy way to view the process, or if you just want to understand why your artist friend seems to be a little psycho now and then, this talk will shed some light. I have repeatedly talked about "my muse" and what I think the divine nature of the creative process is, but this author says it so much better i ever could...

If I were to put a camera at my desk and stream a live video feed on my blog, what might one see right now?

Flying splashes of paint on a brand new canvas?

Me, torch in hand, creating some new work in silver?

My camera set up for a shoot for more spiritually infused digital creations?

Nope.

It is that time of year again. The one we all love. Some responsible, on-the-ball folk (like my mother) have already completed this gruesome task, but I have not yet tackled it. Of what dreary, and dreadful task am I referring to?

Taxes, of course.

As an artist this is on par with getting a root canal, or having to go to traffic school.

How do you handle it?

Me, personally... I have to put some serious creative blinders on. This means hunker down and try not to look at my easel that beckons in the corner, or the inspiring trinkets that await formation at my bench.

So today, I will focus the energy to compiling the paperwork. That is the first segment of it. Then I open my books and sort through the numbers, expenses etc. If I don't take it in sections I will go mad.

If anybody wants to share their secret method to survive this lonely ritual yet another year, please feel free to pass on your advice. And if you have finished yours already, I am green with envy.

I am back at the digital easel today creating visuals for the easter season for avisualplanet.com.

final seal. A great way to recycle old bottles. The little ones up front are actually frosted which kinda makes the wine look cloudy, but it actually came out pretty clear with the color akin to white zinfandel.

corked

It should be the end of the process but actually these get to age for at least a year before drinking. And who'da thought that three little vines planted under two years ago could end up looking like this. Granted, this is it... just a few bottles of finished wine, but it sure was fun running with the process. Sure you can buy the juice and make wine from that, but I really wanted to see what it would be like to run the whole gamut, from seedling to bottle. It breeds a new appreciation for the final product. This batch definitely isn't what hopefully will ultimately be produced when the vines get bigger, but it does represent a commitment which really was the whole point. What fun.

Last August they looked like this...

Then the "not so nice looking" part of the process. The bag in the bucket contains the crushed stems and seeds.

A month later it starts to clear.

Even more.

Then into the carboy and a few other steps before the bottling which I did today. Proof again that the "middle" part of any process tends to be the part that looks the roughest, can be the most tedious, is the least glamourous, and takes the most patience.

It came a little late this year but it doesn't matter. Like little boys everywhere who have no school today due to snow we have a very grateful boy in our house as well.

my husband.

Truly I have never seen a grown man wish for a snow day as if he still owned a sled. Thanks to being employed by the University of Maryland, he and all his other co-workers get to be ten again... and stay home.

Ok, he may not be pulling out a sled, in fact more likely it will be a shovel for clearing the driveway. But no matter. It is a break from the norm... a breath... being forced to stop for just a moment.

which is good.

So I will make a big pot of minestrone and we will all stay in and be grateful for a warm house, good food, and a day that is different.

More to report on the Exnihilo project. After waiting a ridiculous amount of time for our counsel to finalize some paperwork to make building on our property legal I finally pulled the plug and changed counsel.

And I couldn't be happier with her (the new counsel) and her office. She is on the case and understands the project which is key. But after getting all of our files from the previous counsel and reviewing them she regretted to inform me that I have to start the process all over again.

Because the previous counsel took too long.

sigh.

Yea... it only makes sense that they need every document to be up to the minute, but that even includes going through the process of getting a police record again... fingerprints and all. Which I did last january (08).

Not to mention we will be owing a couple of years of property tax that the previous counsel neglected to report.

ick.

If you ever wonder why there aren't more people going after their crazy dreams I can tell you from a person who is attempting it... the process can start to suck the helium out of what was once a big bouncy balloon.

Do you think they sell tenacity in chewable form? I could use a bucket full.

And while it feels like we are moving backwards on that front I am happy to report that our BIG building designs are moving forward. Our new project manager is fabulous and was able to take our sketch-up file which we labored over for months and turned it into a viable floor plan that is now in the hands of the engineering department for wind testing. Again we will probably need to make some adjustments regarding the number of windows, but I am still encouraged by the sense that the PM has got it goin on. The plans may not look like much but they represent the culmination of two years of research and all of the self revelation that happens when taking an idea towards reality. It is crazy head-exploding, nail biting stuff. Here they are...

main floor... kitchen, dining, gallery, library, solar-battery room, washrooms, reception, and studio space.

second floor... our bedrooms, recording studio, exercise room, and multi-purpose room (studio/gallery/classroom/yoga).

A day with clay is what my tuesdays have become on a semi regular basis. It is another medium to explore and let me tell you, when you change mediums it opens up creative options with your existing ones. Maybe because it exercises another part of the brain and therefore shakes loose ideas undiscovered.

at any rate I highly recommend it.

The shifting of gears can apply to any creativity. It is the cross pollination that is the end result.

blank canvas

the pottery studio (before the buzz of activity)

It is the pure-ness of expression that always inspires me. Watching the reaction of the actors from Slum Dog Millionaire on the academy awards show was an example of what I mean by pure-ness. The lead actor and actress were not nominated for their parts in the movie but were clear cheerleaders when others involved in the creation of the movie received reward after reward. When the camera tuned on them they did not act demure and calculated as if in hopes for future gain from the moment. Instead they showed honest joy in the success of the others around them in their project.

I find this inspiring.

Maybe it is the lack of politics in their response.

Maybe it is the lack of posturing (a calculated smile instead of an unbridled hoot)

Maybe it was the embrace of THAT MOMENT without thought to the future ramification.

I am not sure.

But when we are far enough down the road in our creative journeys... do we become too jaded and calculating that we forget what it is to be genuine?

Just a question.

On a totally different note...less genuine and more political I am sure... Alicia Keys on stage with that guy from High School Musical? What's up with that?

This week found me spurning the tactile creative for the other kind of art I do.

The digital.

But digital or clay or metal or paint, it is the words that make this different.

May this week bring you...

Light,
Love,
Peace,
and of course...
Balance.

He never fails with flowers. Here they are in my other creative pursuits in clay.

platter and vase

Artist date today and by 3 o clock I still hadn't tempted the muse. Doing every other left brain activity imaginable (including contemplating taxes) didn't help, and my "responsible side" was winning out. After a full out argument between my right and left brain, my right citing the embarrassing fact that I haven't picked up a paint brush in MONTHS, I resorted to drastic measures...

chocolate chip.

In spite of the fact that I have worked so hard the last few months to get my weight down and been victorious in that regard, I needed to shift gears for the sake of creativity.

Yes, sometimes the muse needs to eat.

Standing in front of a blank canvas with no muse in sight it hit me...

must make cookies.

I have employed the food tactic before but don't make a habit of it. Sometimes it takes drastic measures... sometimes it takes cookies.

Twenty minutes, two warm cookies, one glass of milk later, my paint brush was flying. The muse just needed a little milk and cookies.

Can you blame her?

--------

three spirits

A little like this banana leaf unfurling itself to the waiting world, growth takes a bit of patience, inner peace, strength...

and tenacity.

As we poke and pry at our bahamas plan I feel that we are sort of stuck due to the unforseen economic downturn. And yet every moment of every day spent on the project reveals more and produces more, in itsy bitsy increments. This weekend (and last, and countless other days) Bryan and I worked on the details of the Gathering House for Exnihilo. Yes, we are designing it ourselves within the framework of the oh-so-cool and very green round structures built in NC.

What a challenge.

If you ever want to find out how little you know about something, tackle it head on as if you know everything.

I think this has been the mode for most of my life. It involves the initial gutsy, "let's do this" (the easy part) followed by the "wow, this is harder than I thought," which comes before the..."holy crap what were we thinking"... which then by some miracle gets finished with...

"We did it!"

Getting to that point leaves a trail of newly learned lessons, some newly found communication skills, a lot of nail biting, and a good portion of humble pie.

But it is completely worth it.

It is true what they say about "the only way to eat an elephant is one bite at a time", and honestly if you knew it was an elephant you were going to eat you wouldn't even start. But here is the thing about not knowing...

you do move forward.

Maybe that is the advantage of this age. We have just enough possibility thinking left to be foolish enough to think we can do this thing and just enough experience to pull it off if we work like mad. While working on this building Bryan and I ran into roadblocks of many kinds. It was an exercise in problem solving of monumental proportions. At one point we were completely steimied working on the second floor. So we stopped working on it for a couple of months. Getting some new info and new ideas while in Hawaii, the solutions presented themselves and the roadblocks came down. And things that we were oh-so-sure about a few months ago got tweaked and changed when we realized there was a better way.

So, this week I sent off our new design to our project manager to review. If it goes anything like the little bungalow design it will endure many revisions to get it to meet up to code. Likely we will have to make some changes, but engineering will let us know what those will be and hopefully the compromises won't change the look and feel of the spaces. It is a long long road to the finish line.

But for today I can celebrate one more bite of the elephant.

Bryan viewing the first floor layout of the gathering house.

Back in january we were in a sunny place with warm winds and beaches. Today we are in a colder place where there is more activity indoors than out. In work mode I was sorting some of my photos from that trip and bumped into these. I think they are cool.

Not because they are well shot or that the location is beautiful. No.

Its because of that man with the camera.

I love him. That's all.;-)

A very important day. 21 years ago my baby was born. The journey of life has many art forms along with many benchmarks. How do you celebrate this one?

Along our journey as a family we have chosen to respect certain "laws". While Bryan and I enjoy wine with dinner, we had been clear with Daniel that until you reach legal age in this country you cannot drink(in this country). When we traveled we followed the laws in those places. In Europe and in the Bahamas it was ok, and he was able to share in the privilege when we were there.

So what do you do as a parent when your son is exemplary about respecting those rules?

Without telling him where we were going or what we were doing with only the instruction of "wear something nice and make sure you have your ID", we started driving. What a weird thing to hear from your parents..."Make sure you have your ID".

We arrived at the desired destination... Grapeseed in Bethesda. It was kinda fun to see the look on Daniel's face as we were escorted up to the bar by the restaurants Sommelier, Ernie Brice.

We had arranged a formal wine tasting for Daniel's 21st birthday.

When I had phoned about the reservation and proposed Bryan's idea to the Sommelier, he was immediately on board. "What a great idea"! he said, and then went on to tell me what he would do. And Ernie did not disappoint. He covered everything from how to inspect the color, where the different flavors of the wine hits the different zones of the tongue, swirling it in the glass to oxygenate it, etc... etc.. Talking non stop about all things wine, he set up three flights of three different wines each going from grape to grape varietal and then threw in a few more unusual blends just to get our reactions.

As the restaurant got busier it was fun to see people regarding us with interest. What a great way to celebrate a milestone... learning to respect another art form. When you understand another person's art you are less likely to be cavalier with it, don't you think?

After the formal part of the lesson we moved to a table for dinner. Ernie brought all of our "tasters" over to our table. It was quite a sight being surrounded by wine and very fun trying to keep each one straight after comparing, sniffing, swirling, sipping, etc.

As we sat down to our table the waitress handed Daniel his menu and wished him happy birthday. They had even printed the greeting at the tops of our menus!

By the end of the night we had eaten a three course meal and sampled thirteen different wines and Ernie presented Daniel with a certificate for completing a wine course.

What a great night. What a terrific son. Happy Birthday Daniel!

Ernie showing how to compare color..." the original reason that restaurants have white table cloths".

The swirl.

Fabulous food!

Ernie answering some final questions before we leave.

Met this little guy on Kona.

Serious dry spell over here in blair-studio-land. After an intense-extrovert-travel-and-stress holiday season with family and then being sick, and now the snow that puts me in hybernation mode... I just can't get myself powered up. Before the turn of the year I was firing on all thrusters and today...

I got nothin.

It always takes me a few moments of frustration and self punishment before it dawns on me that... "Oh yea... empty well... that's what this is".

I plan to catch up this page with all the goings on of the last month, but for now I need to stay powered down for a tad longer. All part of the rhythm of the art.

yup. Last week I was in Hawaii.

Well it never fails. I need a vacation from that extended vacation. We arrived home sunday and I caught a nasty bug and am still sniffling through it. All I yearn for now is to be able to go to the ceramics studio and throw clay, or paint, or even clean my studio. Laying around like a lump or shuffling from the fridge to the couch tethered to a box of kleenex seems to be what I get instead.

sniff.

Finally unpacking from the Anderson extended family vacation in Hawaii. Treasures from this trip (as with most) tend toward seeds of inspiration rather than souvenir. A particularly good find was some tiny antique(1887) opium bottles that will work nicely made into pendants. Pearls, Kukui nuts, beach glass, and lava rock will also find their way into some new creations. Daniel spotted the batik sarongs for 4 dollars in a little shop by the road, and I couldn't help myself when I spotted this cool hand died capri outfit in a gallery near the north shore of Oahu.

Floating by an active section of Kilauea, we were greeted with something flying in the air. Newly formed land flaking off into the air at the moment of lava contacting water. "Ash" is more like sections of paper thin glass.

New Birth
Limu born at Kilauea in our presence

The explosive act of magma hitting the ocean

Apparently all of the age-old questions can be answered in Hawaii. Hunting for waterfalls on Kauai I discovered the answer to "why did the chicken cross the road".

ncl behind us

These trees were amazing. A perfect natural palette in its bark.

Luggage mayhem as the anderson clan line up to board the ship. Did I say that this was the only way to travel with a large family? Notice little Heidi (lower left) even has a pink suitcase.

Ever have one of those days that has something for all five senses? Ironically after working on a chapter about this very thing in a new project about living as an artist(in balance!) specifically, how to tempt the muse... I had a whole day that perfectly touched on all five.

Originally it was what Bryan had planned for my birthday several weeks ago, but got bumped due to crazy schedules and commitments. I didn't care, but what a treat to finally experience the day he had planned for me (whata guy). So off we went, Bryan, Daniel and I on to the metro towards downtown DC...

First it was brunch at Co Co Sala Chocolate Lounge and Boutique.

Yea.

It is hard to believe you can have a brunch where the primary focus is on chocolate, but they pull this off nicely without making you cry uncle.

TASTE AND SMELL beautiful food...

SOUND Between CoCo and the museum was a craft festival complete with live jazz...

SIGHT
Inside the museum was a show that I had been wanting to see. A combined exhibit of Georgia O'Keeffe and Ansel Adams at the newly re-opened American Art Museum. Nothing can replace seeing these works of art live and up close, and as compliments to one another. The two of them had been friends and had similar approaches to their art even though one a painter, the other a photographer.

After being inspired by the colors and brush strokes and feeling like the day was at its close, we wandered through the portrait gallery.

TOUCH, OR BEING
Another surprise.

Walking down the main hall an image caught me out of the corner of my eye in a side room that I was walking past. Having passed it I stopped, and backed up, and entered this tiny room that held an amazing portrait.

I didn't know this was here...

A portrait that I had never seen in person but had an indelible memory of stood in front of me. It is the portrait that Degas painted of the American, woman, Impressionist, Mary Cassatt. I had recreated this painting in detail from a picture in a book as a project in junior high. Funny how a memory like that can rush in like a flood with only a visual prompt.

The assignment was to find a person in history that you admired and create a scene in which you would place yourself literally as that person in a living history museum type presentation. The final presentation was rows and rows of stalls of students siting or standing motionless depicting their chosen person for a number of hours while parents walked through the embodiment of the newly acquired knowledge. What a great way to engage a bunch of seventh graders. Clearly the lesson worked because I will never forget it. Of all the people we could pick I had inquired of my teacher about women artists.

There weren't many, especially in Cassatt's time. I seem to remember being focused on impressionists which also narrowed the options, and I am pretty sure the assignment was for american history... So american-woman-impressionist meant, Mary Cassatt. I fell in love with her work was inspired by her determination at odds with the culture, and for a time even tried to paint like her. Funny, now I paint more like O'keeffe.

What a perfect way to finish a day, standing in the presence of this amazing work of art by an amazing artist of another amazing artist. The air had an electricity around it.

I wonder if anyone else noticed.

Degas' Cassatt

Smithsonian American Art Museum

catching the back of Daniel's head on a beautiful night in DC.

This interesting shot selected me last year while walking the streets of mazatlan. So many surprises in places you wouldn't expect. One of my rules when wielding my camera: pay attention to unsung spaces and unexpected moments. They are where the soul shots are.

Here a lonely blue bottle called out to me in a the rubble of a broken down building. Today it reminds me that it is alright to be an individual, to stand out from the norm even if it is sometimes painfully uncomfortable or even…

lonely.

Bryan's new Christmas CD!

Something that brings together my favorite things, the unexplainable soul-healing of the ocean, and divine creative inspiration. As if the muse was born from the sea...

exnihilo beach glass pendants.

Each one is a unique creation suited to the glass that it holds, and each piece of beach glass was picked by this family off of beautiful shores. Each one has the exnihilo swirl imbedded in its design.

I began making them today and got so excited because for me they are totally new and are coming from a different creative space. More like where my paintings come from, these pendants are telling me how they want to be made rather than me having a plan. It is a completely freeing and organic expression.

Perfect symbol for exnihilo.

I will introduce them at the show on Dec 6th and then they will go onto the exnihilo store. Like all of my artwork, the sales of these will go toward building exnihilo. But anyone who buys a beach glass pendent will have their name put on that very special list for a chance to sit on the actual beach at exnihilo helping us unveil it to the world, opening week.

Things I am thankful for...

Bryan and Tommy

The annual Tavener Thanksgiving morning outdoor oyster fry.

You heard me.

This dear friend and culinary wizard manages to fill his backyard with neighbors, friends, and family along with fresh frying oysters, crab gumbo, other seafood yummies, fine cheeses, wine, bloody marys... well you get the idea. The food was fabulous (as always) but it doesn't compare to a great and lasting friendship. We warmed our toes next to the outdoor fireplace while chatting with new friends and sampling Tommy's goodies. What a great way to start out the day.

A cozy home where you may often find wild combinations of things such as these paintbrushes sitting in the kitchen along with the thanksgiving duck that is waiting to be plated. This is what life in motion in a creative household looks like.

Daniel and Bryan

The biggest thing I am thankful for and treasure above all else... my two guys. The sun rises and sets on these two as far as I am concerned and I can't imagine life without the love, fun, inspiration, and pride that they bring me. Happy Thanksgiving you two!

When Bryan changed jobs back in june, one of his blissful perks was a flex-time schedule that means he works nine hour days and gets every other friday off.

this is so awesome.

except that for a long time now I had designated fridays as a kind of artist-date day off. That morphed into the day I would typically paint, or do some other creative activity that would fill the muse's well allowing me to continue to do all the other artsy things that need feeding by perpetual inspiration.

So now I am using a more random diversion approach. For now my artist date has taken the form of this tuesday morning ceramics class, that thankfully, isn't really a class at all. It is really just open studio where there is a "teacher" on hand in case you want to learn a particular thing.

How perfect is that.

So after a few weeks, the teacher Mary, has kind of left me alone but interjected appropriate info when she sees I am struggling or when I have questions. The tone set by the other ceramicists is friendly and welcoming, and folk sort of come and go as they please. It is the perfect place to play with mud and get a small dose of a little community.

I am exercising a couple of muscles with this experience.

One, is to get out of the house. This was almost impossible when Bryan was working in Baltimore. Now that he is at UM it is doable for me to take the car for a day and do things. It would be easy for me to end up like the agoraphobic character in Nim's Island played by Jodie Foster. Having some incentive to leave the house/studio is a good thing.

The other is to stretch the "multi" part of being a multi-disciplined artist. This means branching out and adding a few new creases to my brain matter. And so far it is working, big-time. The result has been a surge in inspiration towards other things, a flood of ideas, and an almost manic need to create.

it's artistic purgatory.

That sounds bad, but it isn't really. Anyone who lives the artist life knows that we can function in fits and starts, between blitzes and burnouts. The key is to identify the difference in the two and do two things...

celebrate the blitzes and ride that wave until it crashes...

and don't beat yourself up when you can't produce during the burnout. It is simply the winter of your creativity.

After all these years I still struggle with recognizing the winter of my creativity, and assume that I can produce full-tilt right through it, and then wonder what is wrong with me when I can't.

but today is not that day.

I am in the other zone right now, and the reason that I call it purgatory is because it takes another kind of wisdom to ride that wave without over doing it. There is the temptation to spin out of control and for me, that can trigger a longer "winter". It is like eating ice cream. You may have a whole gallon sitting in front of you but if you eat the whole thing you may never want to eat ice cream again.

The pursuit of balance is a good thing, at least for this artist.

So, after three hours of working on the hand built portion of the Kabuki pot (pic below), and a pot that I carved into a bell, and a few other small items, I realized I was exhausted and needed to go home. It was only twelve thirty and some of the other potters were just getting going. Part of me wanted to start on another piece, but for me, it was time to stop.

at least for today.

Tomorrow is another day.

How are you at recognizing your creative seasons? Are you forgiving of yourself when you are in a "winter of creativity"? Do you know how to maximize your "spring"?

Kabuki Pot front

Kabuki Pot back

One of the new pieces that I will be showing on the sixth of December.

"The Journey In Between"

I don't really sell my jewelry that much anymore, except for a rare occasion. So for a few hours on Saturday, December 6th you can find me along with several other fine artists at Mayorga Cafe in Silver Spring. All proceeds will go to funding the dream of Exnihilo Artist Retreat.

I am reading a great book by Daniel Pink called A Whole New Mind; Why Right Brainers Will Rule the Future .

If you have ever been discouraged about why the world seemed to cater to more structured, linear, fact oriented people...

or struggled with those horrid multiple choice questions when the answer was neither a,b,c, or d...

or wondered why those damned government offices couldn't at least paint their walls a pretty color...

or have ever had a promotion or job opportunity go to someone else because you appeared to be too artsy and therefore supposedly less organized...

or wondered why a number two pencil was superior to a purple crayon...

...if even one of these thing apply to you, take heart!

According to Pink the world is changing. At least the North American part. We no longer are seeking excess, but are now craving meaning. Information no longer has the value it once had because thanks to the internet, everyone can get any fact they want with two clicks in Google. What was the valuable information age is now cheap, and those high paying info jobs are now shipped overseas.

So what is the new currency?

Art.

Ok, I am simplifying a bit, but I can't help it. Truly, the new valued commodity is big picture thinking, design oriented problem solving, and touch(story). All things generated from the right side of the brain. Even those horrible SAT's are outmoded.

It is like some sort of cosmic payback for all those folk that couldn't understand that creating beauty in the world had any value. Now that people are seeking meaning instead of wealth, the tables have turned, and the new highly coveted job skill is...

graphic design.

Yea, I was kind of surprised too, but it makes sense when you think of how much of our world is now demanding great design (except for those gov't offices).

Anyway, if you are curious, crack open Pink's book. It takes a good look at what this next age will be, and how the need for meaning has replaced the need for things.

As we forge ahead with the day to day, assembling the exnihilo puzzle piece by piece, I feel like things are being revealed. As with any big dream all the details don't present themselves in the beginning, and if they did there would be fewer dreams attempted, because frankly one cannot endure an entire picture. So as if we have finished the outer edge of the puzzle, the frame that will be filled by all the other pieces, Bryan and I are embarking on different projects that will ultimately fill in the center of the picture that is yet unseen.

We don't even have a box lid to compare too.

But that is ok. Because even in my attempt to push things in the direction that I think is right (that usually just means fast) the universe has other plans. And I am glad. Things are aligning in a way that will compel us to take on new skills (or dust off old ones) that will be necessary for the adventure ahead. Like some creative bootcamp that will equip us, the next few years will be like going back to school.

For me this year has been a big one regarding this. Although I am an artist with multiple disciplines under my belt, there have been a few art forms that I haven't tried, and in order to create a "haven for personal creative endeavor" I felt like I needed to delve into some more mediums for the purpose of both networking as well as learning about equipment for a variety of disciplines. And also adding some learned consultants to our team. So this has been the year of the class.

In october I got a taste of glass fusion and shaping glass with a torch. Last week I started a ceramics class and used the wheel for the first time since college (20+ years) and actually remembered how it worked. On the very same day, Bryan, adding to his own stack of puzzle pieces, gave a seminar on recording and sound for videographers in hopes to continue to advance Exnihilo-Music which will have its final home in the Bahamas.

And this last weekend was the absolute dream class... something I have always wanted to learn. Having been a silversmith and honing the skills of small sculpture in my silver creations I always wondered what it would be like to go bigger.

And this weekend I got just that.

To sculpt in steel. Big sheets of steel.

Ok, I didn't actually get to make a complete sculpture in one day, but what this particular class taught was all the different forms of welding and cutting. TIG, ARC, and the old fashioned Oxy/Acetylene. I even got to use a PLASMA cutter.

OMG.

Needless to say this little girl is hooked. And a single six hour session showed me what I need to know for launching a program on our island that will recycle old junk and turn it into art. Another piece just got added to the puzzle. This was a major missing piece.

So as we find the missing pieces and they find us and fall together to create the finished picture, I will continue to try to pay attention to what seems to be divine leading in this regard. And maybe even enjoy the process.

Which is really the spirit of Exnihilo.

All things in time.

my re-entry into ceramics. two very humble pots fresh off the wheel.

Bryan teaching at the Baltimore Videographer's Association.

Fall has definitely fallen here in the mid-atlantic. It is truly pretty except when you ponder how much raking there is to do. I am settling into the idea that winter is coming and trying not to throw my seasonal tantrum against mother nature.

Ask me how that's going.;-)

Here is our Element seemingly floating on a sea of leaves.

The view of our deck.

It may not be saving the world, curing cancer, or other uber-noble causes, but it is something that I am extremely passionate about...building a place where artists can come and get inspired and learn how to lead a balanced life, creatively, spiritually, and physically.

But there is so much to do to get there...

Our final quote came in on the cost of the first bungalow for the Artist Retreat, Exnihilo.

Hold your breath...

$57,600.00 (12,000. of that is just shipping to the Bahamas!)

Ok it may be a figure that prompts one to faint, but truthfully it is exactly as expected, so all is good. It is also only the cost of the shell, the insides and finishing goodies will be a little more for those materials, but we are doing all the work ourselves. What we didn't expect in our whole big dreamy plan to make this thing fly was that the economy would go south, taking a chunk of my existing income and our retirement funds with it.

bummer.

So, in the spirit of seeking help from others with the hopes of ultimately building this place to help others...

drum roll pleeeeze...

I give you the Exnihilo Bungalow building fund. (sidebar)

We have set the building fund at a rounded down 50,000 which is a ton to swallow, I know. But we will be updating it with proceeds from the sales of my work not just the donations of others. It is a monumental task to say the least...

MONDO BEYONDO.

So anyone who would love to help us build the first artist bungalow we would be thrilled to take any extra coin lying around. And I am not kidding, check under those sofa cushions and in that ashtray in your car, anything will do and will get us that much closer to making this thing real.

Oh, and anyone who donates $5 or more we will put your name in a draw for a free, one-week stay. Of course that won't happen until all is built... hopefully by our target date of April 2011.

Every little bit counts, and I will be making this annoying plea to anyone who will listen, and probably repeatedly.

Can you help with our MONDO BEYONDO?

That has been the nature of this whole big dream... unrealistic, and yet hopefully inspiring. From the first itch at the back of my brain, to scouting the land, to the very big step of actually BUYING the land, the process has had so many roadblocks to overcome. The highs and lows have been at the very ends of the spectrum from oodles of paperwork and arrogant civil servants that left me in tears, to the joy of planting our first coconut with Gen 1:1 written on it with a sharpy. Who knew where this journey would lead.

The original plan was to be selling our house at this juncture, but a couple of things slowed that down. The housing market hasn't done anyone any favors of late, and we even hit the reset button on Daniel's college education. A lot of discouraging factors that left me sleepless on some nights and mildly depressed on a lot of recent days. In the darkest moments the idea of shelving the whole thing even seemed like the more "realistic" thing to do.

Except for one thing...

The response to the dream has been overwhelming. Every person we tell lights up at the thought of an inspiring place to go to create. People don't need convincing. We have even had a number of fabulous friends (you know who you are!) express an interest in lending a hand in a good old fashioned barn raising on the island- yes helping us build.

And so we press forward.

What will the building of the first artist bungalow do for the whole big dream?

• It will provide a home base for the development of the rest of the site, a place for us to stay when we are there working on the other buildings to follow, as well as storage. The complexities of freight to the Bahamas makes one prudent about storage.
• It will provide us with a trial run of building these buildings using the first smaller one as a test before moving to the big building (Gathering House) hopefully curtailing potential problems. (yea, I am an INTJ).
• It will allow us a finished model (of the rest of the bungalows) for photographing and creating the rest of the promotion material for the retreat as we move into the marketing phase. This will also help us with developing partnerships with other organizations and schools.
• It will provide a little income as a vacation rental in the one season before the building of the big building ( which will go toward that building).

Our target was March to build, but now we set the date back to May or more probably December. June through November present possible weather challenges in the region (tropical storms, hurricanes).

Our Building fundraiser is set for ending in March. With your help we could meet our goal and be able to move forward.

Post election we are back to the business of art, home, and mondo beyondo dreams. Although with a much more hopeful outlook of things to come.

yea.

Final design of artist bungalow mocked up on the land. Albeit it is faced the wrong way... the windows will of course, face the water. This first structure once it is built, will be our home base while we build the rest of this very big dream. The larger Gathering House will be next and then following that, two more artist bungalows connected at the roofline.

It wasn't too bad, just a two hour wait in a long line snaking its way through the halls of my neighborhood elementary school converted into a polling station. And two hours is nothing for the privilege. The fabulous part was the feeling in the air. Instead of a lot of grumbling impatient people that one might expect, there was a diverse collection of smiling faces, people chatting, and an over-abundance of courtesy.

I guess it takes a solemn civic duty to bring out the best in people.

Living near the nation's capital, my polling station features a wide diversity of people from the executive dude wearing suit and tie, to the beautiful lady behind me in full India, salwar dress, and everything in between both in age and ethnicity the scene is reminiscent of a rockwell painting. And Daniel in line behind me for his first time to vote was pretty cool too.

It is inspiring to see what patriotism and the privilege of voting seems to do to people. For one day we put aside the differences and consider what a gift it is to be able to be involved in actually shaping our collective future by finding our voice in that little box called the poll.

A little like Ebenezer finding redemption just in time for Christmas, the american spirit rises to the occasion that our fathers, mothers, fore-fathers, (and fore-mothers) faught and sometimes died for.

From free cab rides to your polling station, to free coffee from Starbucks for voting, the generosity takes center stage as people stop pushing and shoving and actually assist one another so that everyone gets a chance to have a say...

that is the nature of a true democracy.

I pray that it continues throughout the day, that as the polls begin to close and the numbers start to come in we will be reminded that as polarized as this country seems to be in our views of the issues, we can take a collective deep breath and recognize that we did it together.

And continue to be like no other country on earth.

After roughly two years of pundits, politics, and more recently, joe the plummer, these are just a few words that I hope we won't be hearing after today...

over and over and over and over...

some of these words have even lost their meaning or taken on a different meaning in the process of the repetition...

Liberal, conservative, left, right, left-wing, right-wing, far-right, far-left, left-of-left, left, left, left... ayers, liddy, wright, keating, maverick, polls, bulldog, lipstick, hockey-mom, terrorist, palling-around, socialism, bradley-effect, maverick, maverick, mavERICK, MAVERICK, M-A-V-E-R-I-C-K...

intellectual-elite, redneck, liberal-media, conservative-media, MEDIA, M-E-D-I-A...

anti-american, pro-american,

red-states, blue-states, leaning-states, toss-up states, electorate, popular-vote,

Joe-the- plumber, Joe-the- plumber, Joe-the- plumber, JOE-THE-P-L-U-M-B-E-R

PAC, POW, ACORN, lobby, lobby, loBBY, LOBBY...

pork, pork, pork, PORK!

of course we will probably be gaining a whole new vocabulary starting this time tomorrow.

Sounds like a movie title. But no, it is just the state of our weekend, and the slinging mud isn't referring to the political kind (phew!).

no... it is the stucco kind.

After a very depressing weekend last week of covering and closing the pool for the winter it was just too cold and dreary for us to do what we had hoped to do and worked for all summer long.

Finishing that damn wall.

So we went into hibernation thinking that the time was lost until next spring. I have to admit being in a real funk all week, and feeling depressed about the change in weather thinking that the sunshine would never return and that winter was at our back door. Thankfully mother nature had other plans. What a gift. With two days of sun shiny weather in the sixties this weekend, Bryan and I set to work, him splitting blocks for the final pillar sections, and me with my hawk and trowel and four more bags of stucco mix.

We pushed until exhausted but managed to put the final points on that project. There will still be the refinishing of the metal fence sections and the cementing of the brick steps but other than that...

the wall is DONE.

And thanks to some great weather, a brilliant idea of Bryan's and the last of the mint from my garden we celebrated with the last mojito of the season.

perfect.

the metal fence between the pillars is just stuck in place temporarily until we grind it and repaint it (next spring).

the stucco done this weekend-the walls around the stairs

a year and a half ago...

From the other side...next spring's project...the patio.;-)

What can happen when you have the ability to mobilize a people for a cause that matters to them? Amazing things. I might have even accepted the invitation to drive to West Virginia this weekend to donate time and knock on doors except my early evangelical days reminded me that I really suck at that kind of thing. But I am continually impressed with the efficiency of the Obama machine that gets people off of their butts to volunteer. The creativity is relentless from giving away free tickets to the convention in trade for a few hours of time to the interactivity of their websites and prompting emails tailored to my interests. it isn't any wonder that "we the people" have paid attention. If the campaign is run this way, what possibilities open up if Obama ends up in the White House? I doubt it will involve unicorns and gold falling from the sky but I expect a lot of work will get done.

For those few folk that haven't donated yet here is the affidavit that you have to sign when sending your donation to the Obama campaign.

I am a United States citizen or a lawfully-admitted permanent resident.
I am at least 16 years old.
This contribution is not made from the general treasury funds of a corporation, labor organization or national bank.
This contribution is not made from the funds of a political action committee.
This contribution is not made from the treasury of an entity or person who is a federal contractor.
This contribution is not made from the funds of an individual registered as a federal lobbyist or a foreign agent, or an entity that is a federally registered lobbying firm or foreign agent.
The funds I am donating are not being provided to me by another person or entity for the purpose of making this contribution.

Just a few days away from that sacred civic duty and I am putting some last thoughts together regarding the what and why I choose Obama.

I thought about the style in which I should do this. At first I thought I might compare the voting records of each candidate and cite them side by side, but it is so easy to get into a finger pointing match back and forth that can be unproductive. And when you start looking at what is added to each bill before a vote it makes you understand a little more of how and why one might not vote for something that would normally seem obvious. Its just not that simple. Suffice it to say, I prefer the choices that Obama has made more than McCain.

I also thought about dredging up all the unsavory and gossipy stories and conspiracy theories that have kept us entertained the last eighteen months, but why go there when it really isn't that productive. And haven't we had enough ugliness from those who would rather tear down than build up, cast shadows instead of dealing in the light?

So instead I choose to point out the qualities that I find valuable. Qualities that I think are necessary in bringing this country into the next part of history in ways that will impact not just us, and our children, but the rest of the world for the better. These are not in order of importance, but as a sum complete the measure of what I think Obama embodies.

Team leadership.
Anybody who has done any reading on leadership, either in the church or in business in the last few years knows that the world has experienced a seismic shift from a top down hyerarchy style leadership model to a laterally driven team model. Obama displays this quality in both the economic team he has surrounded himself with as well as how his campaign has functioned. In my opinion the last thing we need is a top down, roguish style leader, even when you give it a sexy brand name like "Maverick". We are a long way from a simplistic wild west where such a thing may have worked. Now we need someone who is willing to humble himself and take the advice of the best and brightest around him. And to be able to assemble that team in the first place.

Being able to inspire.
This is a rare quality that I think we need right now in our leader. This is a characteristic I have seen displayed in my husband during years of ministry and is clearly present in Barrack Obama. When someone has the ability to bring forth the best out of those around them, showing them that they can rise to the occasion and produce great things... well, that is an inspiring thing to watch. Not only does it leave those involved feeling empowered and valued, but it gets much more accomplished for the good. The ability to inspire and to lead in team is another plus for bringing the parties together. Alienating people at the onset by being a "maverick" just wont work.

Quick to listen, slow to anger.
I think this is so important for a leader that has to navigate issues in a post-modern world. Understanding that this time in history where modern thought has crossed into the post-modern is crucial in a host of issues, from knowing how in which to communicate to the next generation as well as knowing how to use language in diplomacy with unsavory leaders that might threaten our country.

He does not deal in absolutes.
Not dealing in absolutes may sound anti-christian. On the contrary, the example Jesus left us was speech and action highly nuanced in persuading each person he encountered. Face to face. So when it comes to making laws in this country that legislate morality I think there is more of a risk of destroying freedom in order to get people to behave a certain way. And history has shown us that it doesn't work. Think prohibition. Don't get me wrong, I am pro-life. But I find it encouraging that Obama comes at these issues from the standpoint that the work must be done in prevention and support and social justice rather than dealing with the absolute... an arguably easier road. Life and the world are multi-layered and complicated and it is very easy to take someone's choices away as a matter of principle until you are faced with that same difficult choice. It is the difference between law and grace, arrogance and humility. And dealing in absolutes so often closes doors instead of allowing progress to be made. Think of Jesus writing in the sand.

How he treats his wife.
This may seem a little weird in regards to the leader of the free world, but I think how a man treats his wife speaks to his integrity, humility, and the way he treats others. Again I see a man like my husband when I watch Obama. It might sound silly and it is in subtle ways that one sees it... following Michelle on to a stage rather than storming ahead of her. The respect that is shown her, the way they appear to be equals. In contrast, I have a really hard time with how McCain appears with his present wife and frankly the way he navigated the ins and outs of his marriages. I don't think being a pow gives anyone a free pass to infidelity. I could maybe even forgive a slip, but it is the abandonment of his first wife for his second that I just can't put aside. It speaks to the issue of trust, vanity, and greed. I don't think being opportunistic is a positive thing for a leader in the times we live in and in my opinion McCain tends to be opportunistic.

Understanding current technology.
This in part speaks to age, but not completely. I think a person of McCain's age could overcome this limitation if they so choose, but he has proven that he has not. We need someone who is well versed in a world of Facebook, YouTube, Google, and even the game Eve. Some of the most interesting economic, moral, diplomatic and social questions may be coming out of that global virtual game. It is a technology driven world and we need someone who can keep up and speaks the language.

Education.
This one speaks specifically to matters like the future of Supreme Court and those selections. Being Harvard law is a real plus for Obama in my mind. Knowing the nuances of our justice system will serve well here. And the fact that Michelle is similar in education is another plus. Two for the price of one. The differences in education of the two candidates(and where they ranked in their class) I think really matters. It speaks to intelligence, perserverance, and hard work.

Obama uniquely represents us in his heritage.
Walking in another person's shoes provides perspective that only experience can bring. Obama embodies many people (black, white, american, and international) and from different economic backgrounds. I think that makes him a greater asset in crossing international and racial divides (yes, with diplomacy). He can speak to many types of people and have true empathy. McCain's privilege puts him at a disadvantage in relating in these broad spectrums.Obama is a living example that what we call "the American Dream" can actually exist.

Judgement.
Walking the tightrope of who to pick as VP made Obama the winner in the judgement category in my mind. Balancing the ticket with Joe Biden, the most experienced of the presidential candidates in foreign policy showed wisdom on Obama's part. Again, willing to work in team with someone his senior and not be threatened or arrogant speaks volumes to me. They display an intelligent synergy that is lacking in the other campaign. In my opinion McCain's pick of Palin was another opportunistic move made for the politics of the moment, and now I think it has hurt him. I won't go into my opinion about her here but lets just say if I had been supporting McCain I would be one of those that would have switched my vote because of her.

Getting stuff done.
For all the commenting on Obama's "inexperience" he sure has accomplished a lot in a short period of time. On par when you compare the ratio of authoring bills, voting, being published, speaking(and we aren't talking about campaigning) the last two years of productivity of both candidates leaves McCain lacking. Maybe it is due to youth, exuberance, or something else... whatever IT is, we need it now more than ever from our leader.

Military vs non-military.
I know that our country is somewhat polarized when it comes to this issue, but I think it is for good reason. Passions are high when lives are lost. What we choose to do in this category speaks to generations to come. If we took an aboriginal approach of making decisions thinking "seven generations out", we might be a little more prudent. I feel that having a born-bred-and fed military man in the position of control will not be good for renewing our honor in the world. Again, a broader perspective of our allies, enemies, and those in between may help reshape and restore. Maybe putting hope over fear will make us wiser and more prudent.

Well, these are a few of my musings regarding why I choose Obama. He is like my husband in so many ways. Honesty, integrity, compassion, wisdom, patience, temperance, intelligence. I have chosen not to use words like left-wing, right-wing, liberal or conservative because frankly I don't think they apply anymore except to be used in an inflamatory slur. The candidates are who they are and do what they do...

From the day that Obama's cousin Kevin sat at my dining room table talking for two hours about home, faith, and how people might be better, I have been watching Obama (just like I promised, Kevin).

And now I plan to vote for him.

A great article about inspiring the next generation written by the astronaut, Sally Ride and why she will vote for Obama...

Former astronaut Sally Ride in 1983 was the first American woman to travel in space. She is president and CEO of a science-education company, Sally Ride Science, and she is professor of physics emerita at the University of California, San Diego. She wrote this commentary for the Orlando Sentinel.

Read her article here.

Can you imagine my glee when after pouring over ideas of how to invigorate my stalling business, spending way too much brain power (and sleep loss) on how to explain my position as an Obama supporter to my family and anyone else who wanted to listen, and thinking way too hard about inconsequential things like how much pepper to put in the fettucini because my son's vegetarian girlfriend was staying for dinner, I sat down in front of the tv with a glass of chardonnay and discovered that Psycho was on tv.

the classic Hitchcock version.

and just coming from the Suzie Orman show- her explaining the whats and why's of where the economy is...

time to turn the brain into neutral...

or at least enjoy the craft of a creative genius like Hitchcock...

in blissful black and white.

Simple pleasures are the best.

I have been a good girl in terms of ranting about the political candidates and their behaviors. I have held my tongue trusting that they will act like virtuous men and behave like we hope they will, showing what we think real american character is. Like so many, I have endured the slosh and slander that candidates are tempted to use to win in the last days.

But enough is enough.

Cutting taxes is not a socialist plot. In fact both candidates have tax policies that use the same principles (but to different classes).

Shame on you McCain for resorting to these tactics. If you had any honor won by your five years in a POW camp you have spent it all on the slander you propagate now and the slander that you encourage your vp to slosh with little care.

Our country is so much better than that.

I am proud that upon sending a letter to "my candidate", I could say, "continue with a clean campaign, we "the people" are watching, and are impressed with the fact that you haven't stooped into the fray.

A tax cut for rich people is conservative, but a tax cut for poor people is Socialist? Shame on you McCain for invoking the "S" word for those less than educated folk that can't tell the difference. The fear factor is the last, worst tactic and diminishes ones character. Especially after the forced bank funding that makes a successful bank like BOA accept funds to equalize it with lesser banks in order to stableize the economy. Essentially stalling a successful capitalist company. Yes, BOA wasn't given a choice by the government.

And you dare to use the "S" word now?

pleeeeeeez.

At one point I may have been on the fence. My family going way back has been hard core republican, but again and again when I see the low road taken by you McCain, I get a creepy feeling in my stomach (and frankly, past campaigns... the ends do not justify the means).

See, I am an idealist. I still believe in virtue. I still believe that one can be rewarded by acting in good character and using honesty and trust to communicate values in order for others to decide if you are worthy...

rather than resort to distortions, fear, and lies to send folk into a fearful frenzy.

The problem is that the past has shown that sometimes these sleezy tactics work to steer people away from fact. If one was to stoop... tit-for-tat...

well just the comparison of Gord Liddy to Bill Ayers...

and yet some people choose not to drag up that dirt to sully their opponent's past...

And frankly, it is the measure of that man that this country needs. Maybe daring to be a little bit above the fray and run a campaign on the issues rather than twisting your opponents' character. To be inclusive and inspirational and productive in your ways...

Thank you Colin Powell for your words about this issue. To call the "r" candidate on the carpet and call it despicable....

it truly is.

And I truly am thankful for someone finally mentioning that if Obama was a Muslim (which the first, knee-jerk reaction is to say... no, no, he is a Christian (which is true)), the other less spoken issue is that... if he was a Muslim... it should not be a problem in the great country of America supposedly founded on religious freedom...

Thank you Colin Powell for finally making that point that so many of us had rattling around in the back of our heads.

And not letting that question sit and stew for folk who don't think any further than their nose.

And having the distinguished (republican) Colin Powell indorse Obama after comparing his friend of so many years (McCain) with the newer offering (Obama) that Powell took the time to get to know and examine...

well it was refreshing to hear an experienced republican general say we need something new...

in Obama.

And he was more gracious than I right now in his rebuke of McCain's tactics.

A man who may soon take the highest office in this government (and the world) should take the higher ground and have a little self control, resist the temptation to stoop to such a low tactic as smearing your opponent with prosecutable slander. Absolute power does corrupt absolutely. Here is proof.

Shame on you McCain.

If I were on the fence before... I am not any more.

It would be hysterically funny if it isn't so frightening. When folk who have access to a microphone and apparently an audience that is willing to listen and trusts what they are listening too without a fact check. Of what do I speak?

The Right-Wing-Nut Bob Grant-Rant.

For crying out loud. You think that the man would have checked before making such an ass of himself. But that is the kind of political climate that is emerging right now. Passionate and mindless. Like a toddler wielding a loaded semi-automatic.

If you haven't heard the quote I offer it here for a laugh (or a cry). Grant commenting on Obama's stage as he made a speech in Toledo.

"[W]hat is that flag that Obama's been standing in front of that looks like an American flag, but instead of having the field of 50 stars representing the 50 states, there's a circle?" He then said: "Is the circle the 'O' for Obama? Is that what it is?" Grant later said: "[D]id you notice Obama is not content with just having several American flags, plain old American flags with the 50 states represented by 50 stars? He has the 'O' flag. And that's what that 'O' is. That's what that 'O' is. Just like he did with the plane he was using. He had the flag painted over, and the 'O' for Obama. Now, these are symptom -- these things are symptomatic of a person who would like to be a potentate -- a dictator." '

end quote.

The flag implied to be an "Obama dictator flag" was the Ohio State flag.

Sheesh. Where did this guy get his education?

Truly it does scare me how easy the slander seems to be put out there without conscience. It is unacceptable and irresponsible.

Sitting in an airport always has the same effect on me. I get comtemplative. Today is no different as I wait for my flight back to my family with an hour layover in cincinnati after a wonderful week with my mom and sis. I even got a little weepy listening to the message my mom left on my cell after dropping me at the airport. It was so good to be with her.

It looks like it has become a tradition, this trip in october.

After the death of my stepdad last year, the traditional trip that he and my mom took to Las Vegas every year to celebrate her birthday morphed into the three of us girls having the time together. It is a time that I truly treasure even though I mourn what precipitated it.

My mom turned 81 this year but you would never know it with us girls trying to keep pace with her.

I don't know if it is her physical health or her bouyant personality that contributes to her energy, probably the latter for all the junk food she consumes. Upon arrival at her timeshare she unpacked a host of snacks and candy that left my sister and I shaking our heads and laughing. She is the only person I know that can polish off a bag of Doritos pairing it with White Zinfindel.

I think she will live forever for all the preservatives she consumes.

But as my sister Marta and I kid her about her poor dietary choices she just smiles as she offers us chocolate covered raisins and miniature milky ways...

I swear.

For a woman who has lost two children, had four miscarraiges, lost a brother and sister to cancer being caretaker to both, as well as caretaker to her own mother until her death, endured a phylandering first husband for 26 years and the dreadful and sudden loss of her beloved second husband who adored her, and whom she adored, she is an amazingly upbeat person.

But that is the fruit of a strong faith.

Spending time with her in vegas, sight-seeing, laughing, and yes...gambling (she loves those penny slots) was a blast but occasionally bitter sweet as she continued to talk about my stepdad in terms as if he was still here, refering to things as "this is how George and I do it", or "We always order this", and other such comments.

But it is all good.

He is still with us in a way. After the trip I heard her greet one of the many pictures of him in her apartment with...

"Hello sweety".

He continues to grace the place in all those pictures that she keeps, and through the large empty red leather chair that was his favorite.

He is truly missed.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________

Girls At Play

The week started out with a bang as the three of us landed in mom's timeshare just long enough to change our clothes, unpack endless junk food and then head out for a vegas evening. We managed a little lunch of salad and lobster ravioli (split three ways) at the Bellagio. Then playing a few slots (just for good measure), something I know I could not make a habit of, I admit there is a bit of fun to be had when you play a game that suddenly goes into a bonus round that pays off sixty bucks in a blink. In contrast it is not so fun when a machine promises to pay in "just one more spin" only to take that sixty bucks right back.

You win some and lose some.

But watching my mother take twenty dollars and play it for an entire day is a real hoot. A gift I apparently do not have. Not to mention she has an uncanny ability for winning even if it is in twenty cent increments. What fun it was sitting at a slot machine next to her while she coaxed and talked to the characters on the machine, teasing them into giving her a win by waving her hands over them, rubbing the screen and talking to them sweetly...

I swear they listened every time.

I especially liked watching this big guy sitting at a slot machine next to her who kept sending glances sideways (him losing) as she won bonus round after bonus round turning her twenty into a hundred confessing to me later that she didn't even know how that particular game worked.

an angel on her shoulder?

I think it is George.

Mom and Marta laughing in front of Bellagio fountain

Mom taking the picture of me and Marta with her fingers over the lens.

Me pointing out to mom that she had her fingers over the lens;-)

The final picture of Marta and I. (without the fingers)

Last year we saw O, and this year would be Phantom. But it wouldn't be as smooth a day as I would have hoped. We had breakfast in the timeshare and chatted like schoolgirls until after three and then scrambled to get ready for the big night. I had experienced a brief panic the night before doing a double check of our reservations and seeing what I thought was the wrong date on the printout (meaning we had missed the show). I had arranged for the tickets and feared I had screwed up the date. So that night I phoned to confirm, talking to a real living person who took my confirmation number, my fears were put aside when she said..."You are all set for tomorrow night".

Phew.

So, after getting ready we walk to the spot where a town shuttle promises to make the rounds every eight minutes. The first bus being too full we wait for the second.

No bus.

Starting to get a little nervous as time gets short, all showing it in different ways (mom stepping off the curb looking for the bus threatening to get hit by oncoming traffic) we decide to opt for a taxi instead.

Good choice.

Lickety split we are in front of the Venetian where the Phantom is playing just in time to collect our tickets at will call.

Handing the printout of our confirmation to the clerk he takes it and ducks into a back room for a second only to emerge with...

"Are you aware these tickets were for last nights performance"?

My heart sank to my feet. Wanting everything to be perfect to celebrate Mom's b-day, this was a complete disaster. Apparently my panic the night before was justified, but why would they confirm it over the phone, I wondered.

Hoping for some way to salvage this...

"I called last night to confirm and the woman that I spoke to said it was tonight".

"Just a minute", and he disappeared back into the little room (at this point I am praying that someone is going to be nice, while still trying to figure out why they didn't tell us over the phone).

He comes back with, "We don't normally do this..." giving me a glimmer of hope that some concession would be made due to the miscommunication.

"Here are your options", He points to a seating chart of what is left. My heart still sinking but at least we are going to get in...

In my sweetest voice I can muster through my disappointment I say, "What would you suggest"?

Without skipping a beat he says, "Balcony".

"Great, thank you SO much" (in my mind I am a little confused because the balcony was what I originally wanted but it wasn't available when I ordered the tickets).

I am starting to feel a little relieved as he finishes by printing out the tickets.

"Here you are, I have put you in the Center Balcony, second row up, which is an upgrade of 30 dollars per ticket which I am not charging you."

God bless him.

Feeling very grateful and slightly stunned I take the tickets and thank him again. We are ushered to our seats overlooking the amazing set of the entire opera house with the stage and the big chandelier front and center.

The seats were amazing and better than what we had before.

The show was wonderful.

The little bit of stress was worth it.

Some of the sites included living statues. Mom was not quite sure what to do with this guy.

A lion in the lions habitat in Ballys

Encountering a blue man in the Venetian

Trying my hand at a giant slot machine.

Marta gives it a try.

Last night Daniel commented to me that I had become more politically interested than before. Why? Good question. After thinking a bit I told him that I think it is because before I always sort of trusted "smarter people" to make the decisions. Now at my age, I am the "grown-up" and that smarter person, and that brings responsibility. And after enjoying the prosperity and then watching the country's economy tank over the last few years, along with our retirement fund evaporating yesterday with the 777 drop, I want my voice to be heard. Maybe its coming of age, maybe I don't like where this country has been and I an kicking myself for not being more informed the last election. Whatever it is it has turned this non-political artist into a political junky.

Here is a preliminary list of resources that I have been using to keep myself sane and hopefully clear headed while candidates run around like chickens with no heads, and media gorges themselves on feverish gossip, mud slinging and lies. I will try to add to this list as the clock counts down the next 40 days and do the "reading" not just the watching. My apologies for not creating the links just now...cut and paste will have to do.

• Keeping the facts straight on both sides of the fence, if you read nothing else between now and the election make it be factcheck.org. They did a great job of dissecting the last debate and pointing out the misleads and mistakes from both candidate :

http://www.factcheck.org

• Up to the minute political articles:

http://www.politico.com

• Keeping slander in the conservative media in check:

http://mediamatters.org

• Obama's voting record:

http://www.votesmart.org/voting_category.php?can_id=9490

• McCain's voting record:

http://www.votesmart.org/voting_category.php?can_id=53270

Votesmart.org also has all the campaign spending. Although Obama's is in a handy breakdown piechart compared to McCain's 177 page itemized list (making it hard to tell what was spent where at a glance) it is still a great resource.

• Who will actually raise taxes? Skip the rhetoric and do your own math. This is a great calculator that plugs in the candidates policies and your fiscal numbers and spits out the actual taxes you will be paying.

http://www.electiontaxes.com

And if you are interested in the top contributors of each candidate, lobbys and other interesting tidbits try opensecrets.org

• McCain's Top Contributors:
http://www.opensecrets.org/pres08/contrib.php?cycle=2008&cid=N00006424

• Obama's Top Contributors:
http://www.opensecrets.org/pres08/contrib.php?id=N00009638

• And some more dig deep type stuff on the Capital Eye. We like to think it is all principle and virtue but doesn't it all come down to money? This article was a sobering read..."Finance Sector Gave 51 Percent More to House Bailout Backers":

http://www.opensecrets.org/news/2008/09/finance-sector-gave-50-percent.html

• Lots of fun widgets to be had there too:

• Oh and if you want to compare who sponsored, co-sponsored what bills (who was working and who wasn't) there is a handy search engine here:

http://thomas.loc.gov

or Govtrack.us gives lots of this info broken down in and easier read:

McCain's
http://www.govtrack.us/congress/person.xpd?id=300071

Obama's
http://www.govtrack.us/congress/person.xpd?id=400629

Yesterday was kinda important. Not so important in the scheme of world issues, campaigns and such, or even monumental wedding anniversaries. But we have found that celebrating even the lesser moments actually make the bigger moments possible. It could be the momentum created when small kindnesses accumulate to create big feelings. It could be the act of not forgetting and so allowing those moments to be consistent reminders of what is truly valuable. Call it romance or whatever.

My husband is very good at it.

Bryan came through the door with flowers and champagne last night. Later we went to our favorite sushi place for an elegant late dinner. All to celebrate a moment in time that looked awkward and funny and completely unlikely, but was the beginning of something no one could have predicted.

The moment was our first date.

It was twenty five years ago and we were a couple of geeky kids trying to find ourselves, our way, and our identities. Bryan was a music theory major and I was an art major who happened to play clarinet. We met in the university band.

Our first date was one of those college "bring a date" prom-like events and we went as friends.

Who knew?

It was a night filled with awkward moments and humor but what came out of that first night was a sense of something more, something special, some kind of connection. Looking back on the picture you have to laugh, but recognizing that it is in those fragile unpredictable moments that often hold the greatest possibilities.

Here's to the next 25 years my love.

25 years ago, Sept 23, 1983.

Approximately a year later in little tokyo (CA).

Years later I painted this, the background beach symbolizing that first date.

This weekend was a little more progress on the outside. I managed a scratch coat of stucco on saturday making me unable to move on sunday. The repetitive motion apparently worked muscles that I don't normally use and so I felt the limitation on sunday. But it is satisfying to see this thing take shape. Bryan is on the home stretch with the upper portion of the wall. This is back breaking work as he has to split and shape each brick up here because they show from both sides. My hero.

No interview with Tom Brokaw, but ET (entertainment tonight) is on the McCain campaign plane?

There are no words.

How to leverage our lust for "entertainment".

sheesh.

I pray that the debates redeem us all.

Feeling a little itchy these days as I see a political climate primed for something akin to the Crusades (1096-1270) and the martyrdom and prideful self righteousness that made those at the helm feel justified to fight a religious war.

Are we becoming Medieval England?

When the honest transparency for justice gets traded for a smoke screen swiveling the focus onto what our democracy created to protect the people...

justice.

It is not something that should be taken lightly and is something that 232 years took to build. A fair and just system with checks and balances that bar those in powerful positions to fall into the temptation of compromise for the sake of gain...

of any kind, economical, social, or... political.

It is an old move really. Classic strategy. That one in which someone points a finger accusing someone of inpropriety in order to mask their own.

Jesus wrote in the sand as every man looked on, holding a stone ready to kill the woman caught in adultery. As Jesus continued to write (assumably their names) in the sand, one by one they dropped their stones and went away leaving the woman with no accusers. Because they were guilty. (The compassion of Jesus always took my breath away in this story.)

So when someone poised to take the most powerful position in the land (world) refuses to be scrutinized by their own justice system...

except it is a woman holding the stone.

You do the math.

Thanks to Bryan's new flex-time schedule that allows him every other friday off we have been enjoying more three day weekends than the average bear.

This weekend was true of this.

Making another run at our remodeling projects we tackled a few things both as a team and as individuals.

For example:

I am learning how to mortar brick.

and it is ugly.

But the truth is I am loving every minute. Even in the ninety degree, 80 percent humidity, mosquito fest that it has been, I had a ball mixing mortar and repairing some ugly and hard to solve corners of our old wall. Sometime soon I will stucco what I actually built today, but for now this was a great lesson. And as a team we managed to pour eight bags of concrete to cap the wall to neaten the jagged old brick that was left on the lower wall. This preceeds the stucco and the capping with the tumbled stone.

So while I was playing in mud Bryan was solving a roadblock. When we originally chose this particular interlocking wall product for our project it was because you could use it to build a retaining wall, and then a regular wall that you can look at from both sides. The product boasted that all you have to do is split the block along the handy dandy score line provided by the manufacturer.

yea right.

They also boasted that you could make this job even easier if you rented a handy dandy mechanical block splitter.

ok.

Problem: No one rents these things. The closest one we could find was six hours away.

So Bryan got creative and built his own. And although it still means splitting them by hand, the blocks split more reliably then they did just using the manufacturers score line and a chisel.

We are way past the half way mark on this project of three years, and like a horse to the barn, are feeling a short reach to blissful closure of this monumental task. I am truly hoping that we can actually be finished before the bulk of leaves start to fall and the season is officially changed.

Of course that is what I said last year;-)

Bryan with his "splitter"

Blocks isn't the only thing that have gotten split. Check out the pants! These things will be shreds by the end of the season.

width="450" height="636" />

Adding concrete to level the top of the brick wall. This will then be stuccoed

Forms removed.

I couldn't resist the opportunity to do a test with the fresh concrete. Since this was going to get covered over with stone why not experiment a little.

Texture test for patio design. String, burlap, bubble wrap, canvas, and leaves.

Written back in April of this year along with "Today I am a Bourbon Democrat", and Today I will be a "No-Nothing"

Today I will be a Christian Socialist.

In the continued saga of making Blair a more informed citizen I tripped and fell over some fun (but kinda disturbing) facts in the evolution of our country's early quest for making our children more patriotic. I can't take full credit for the tripping, as the reference came from a workmate of Bryan's, but nonetheless sent me on an interesting rabbit trail.

And because I didn't know about this before just goes to show you that either the education I got was cruddy, or pollyannic...

or I am just a big dumb dumb.

But the visual person that I am really gets it when shown a picture, somehow making the two sides of my brain connect so that I might retain the information...

ask me in a year.

The topic is the pledge of allegiance.

Ok I knew about the whole "under god" debate, but I didn't know about the origins of the pledge, and the somewhat unfortunate evolution of its salute (being adopted by hitler).

But in reading about all of this it triggered a memory. I seemed to recall that at some point in school Daniel wouldn't do the pledge. I couldn't remember the details exactly so I asked him to refresh my memory.

It was kindergarten and he was five. Because of us moving from Canada to the US in the middle of the year he was thrust into school later in the year(his first year of school ever!) missing the first three months. Although I don't know if the other kids in his class were given an orientation on the pledge I know that he never got one. So when faced with being required to perform this seemingly strange ritual without anyone giving an explanation of "why they do it", he, for the sake of understanding, decided to test it.

He turned his back on the flag.

Now you have to understand that he was a bit of an abstract thinker even back then. These days if you have a conversation with him you may walk away feeling like you have been intellectually left in the dust, but by the age of three he was hardly talking and the few words he could say were garbled. At five in this new classroom setting where he was still trying to figure out what the rules were nothing made sense. As he tells it in his observation of the other kids, most of them looking various directions, hand on their hearts, picking their nose, fidgeting and doing what five year olds do, he couldn't put his finger on the purpose. Employing what he thought would be the process of elimination he turned around, in hopes to see what info he could glean from the reaction.

He got an answer. But not one that gave him any more information.

The teacher firmly grabbed him by the shoulders and spun him around to face the flag.

His thoughts: "Well at least I know that I shouldn't face the wall."

But still no explanation for what seemed like cultic behavior.

And I can only imagine what the teacher's point of view had been. This kid just moved from Canada after all...

But it is intriguing to me that children employ judgement on an instinctual level, especially if something just seems wrong.

Today, as a culture we don't think much about the pledge or where it came from, just that we "should" do it and that it represents patriotism. Kinda like trick-or-treating being something fun for kids and forgetting that it originally sprang from a genuine pagan ritual.

In a nutshell (thank to Wiki) the pledge of allegance was written in 1892 by a Christian Socialist and Baptist minister named Francis Bellamy as part of a marketing campaign to sell subscriptions of a magazine called the Youth's Companion. That was it's birth. A bit like Santa's red suit persona being birthed by a popular Coca-Cola campaign.

The beauty of capitalism.

Not to say that I don't think the pledge may have developed into a useful tool to gently remind children what country they live in and are "pledging too". Except that children of certain faiths could not "pledge", having the action be in conflict by being idolatrous. That original intent modified by the later addition of the "under God" text which left out other certain religious groups in the great melting pot we call america.

Oh well.

But back to Daniel's reaction... being faced with having to participate in a ritual that seemed wrong even though everyone else was doing it...

he didn't.

He hadn't been indoctrinated yet. Didn't know the rules, the ropes, the expectations. If you would have asked him if he was american he would of said yes... and canadian (he's both).

Which is why when I hear people pass judgement on someone because they don't look a certain way, have the same rituals, don't wear a cross, or a flag pin, or a WWJD bracelet, I have trouble not passing judgement on them. I used to wear a cross until I got older and realized my faith ran deeper than the jewelry and that a conversation stopper hanging around my neck might not be what god intended. But that is just me.

The world has gotten smaller though and requires more nuanced communication because there is a greater need for understanding when your neighbor has a slightly different way of doing things, and he probably has a good reason based on the roots of his beliefs and a nice long conversation may bring greater understanding...

or maybe his reason is more superficial...

like that flag pin is really tacky.

While living in canada it was appropriate to wear a little plastic, fuzzy, red poppy pin to commemorate veteran's day for the common wealth.

and that pin is really tacky too. And they make a gillion of them every year and sell them like candy corn at halloween. But the donations made from those poppies fund veteran's services.

I don't know if our veterans get funding from the sale of flag pins (i haven't checked) but I do know when my father was given a vet pin while visiting the National WW2 Memorial it had a very familiar inscription on the back...

Made in China.

Maybe tomorrow I will be a Whig.

the original pledge of allegiance salute.

ref: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:Bellamy_salute_1.jpg

ref: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:Pledge_salue.jpg

Thanks to the encouragement of my husband and the hovering ghost of a past mondo beyondo list item left undone, I am taking two days for my artist date this week and playing with glass. Although my ultimate goal is to some day take a glass blowing glass, the class that I am taking is a great entry point and will be another great addition to exnihilo.

Glass fusing.

The real work is understanding the nature of each kind of glass and learning methods of cutting it which turned out to be a piece of cake for me. Composition is the next issue, and color sense, but those are already in my tool kit... the cutting was new. It was perfect in it was not difficult, but still inspiring.

Like having a new toy.

Cutting.

Cutting exercise, (straight lines, curves, circles, etc.) Of course the first thing I wanted to do was smash the glass to get a more "organic" look. In quizzing the teacher about this she showed me how to cut it to look like it was smashed. Next time I think I will try to smash it (maybe when she isn't looking).

Colored glass cut and positioned for the composition.

Adding Frit. The gaps are filled with a glass sand of various colors. I had planned on using black but the teacher said it wouldn't look good and more specifically the black frit behaved strangely. She preferred red. (Hey, I am just here to learn) So I compromised and used red in one spot and then a more neutral yellow tone elsewhere. (its my project after all!)

Ready for first firing. Tomorrow it will be put into a mold and fired again creating a little dish. What fun this is!

Lately I have been really pondering the power of propaganda. Especially in light of the speed in which information (or mis-information) is available these days. As americans we think we have the luxury of believing that it is only other countries that exploit their citizens with slanted information to control the population.That may have been true once.

But that luxury is long gone.

And I think we need to be careful or we may end up not learning from the mistakes of other's past, and then be doomed to repeat it thinking we were impervious to such a thing. I would rather keep a good bead on my government than to end up like a pre-hitler germany.

That may be strong words but I have had a couple conversations of late that make me concerned that the american people (in all parties) are dumping their brains and are buying into mis-information served up by various media made available. I thought it was obvious that any thinking person understands that they can't believe everything they read, hear, or see. But maybe this isn't true for everyone. My age group is probably cynical enough from seasoned advertising saturation that when Pat Boone is advertising reverse mortgages we know that dear old Pat does not have a reverse mortgage himself and doesn't necessarily believe in them, but is just collecting a paycheck as an actor. It is an ad meant to sell a product.

I am jaded and that is a good thing.

I remember lecturing Daniel at a very young age about advertising, pointing out specific ads for toys and such that caught his fancy explaining the motives of the advertiser, the times of day aimed at target age groups, etc...and thus helping him to be wise about how to determine when you are being sold something that isn't really in your best interested.

But discerning advertising is easy.

What is not so easy is news. (or what we call the news)

What our parents once trusted as an unbiased delivery of the facts no longer exists in its pure form. Apparently it is too boring and as a collective voice we have chosen in its place a form of entertainment that we like to point at as our news.

Which wouldn't be a problem as long as we understood the game, and that it is actually not ALL news.

A recent conversation with a dear friend revealed this even further when he reiterated something he had heard from "the news" as if it was fact. This particular "fact" was extremely slanderous towards one of our presidential candidates. A few seconds on snopes.com revealed that it was bogus.

I wasn't surprised.

But what scares me... really scares me is that when something smells of slander or has a clear slant or is worded in a particular way to create guilt by association, people don't always check it for themselves...

they just believe it.

Granted, the checking is labor intensive because even sources that claim they have no bias may slant a tad (or a whole lot...how do you spell "fox".) Usually you can tell it from the language, but using multiple sources for double checking is probably the safest thing to do.

And that takes time. Time that most of us don't have. So we settle for the entertainment and miss the fact that mis-information is seeping into our souls and doing it in such a way that we barely notice.
(Pr 18:8 The words of a gossip are like choice morsels; they go down to a man's inmost parts.)

Is it any wonder that jesus equated gossip and slander to murder?

I think a telltale sign of this seeping mis-information is "talking points". Sitting in a restaurant and overhearing a heated discussion about the present campaign using only talking points to make a case made me even more concerned. Can't we have legitimate conversations about what each candidate has to offer, how they plan on delivering, instead of passing around gossipy emails camoflaged as fact (without citing the source or author's name) that actually came from some wing-nut blog?

(having said that please don't quote this person's opinion blog unless you site the source;-)

I have called these "political, hit and run" emails in the past and they still bug me. Most of these are designed to make a case that will either provoke the receiver, or reinforce the assumed same belief relationship of the sender. Neither one is productive. I usually try to take them lightly but I got one recently that forced me to send a reply asking the question, "Did you actually want a reply from me on this"? As in "do you really care what I think and want to open a dialogue?" The reply I got on that one was an implied "no".

Too much time is getting wasted in the deluge of heresy and even outright lies meant to steal our ability to make an intelligent choice. This makes me a little snippy, because I hate wasted time. And when faced with talking points I am left speechless because there is no conversational entry point.

So rather than walking around like pull-string dolls repeating what we have heard on talk television, let's have a conversation that deals with the stuff at a deeper level. Breaking down the issues in a detailed fashion, sincerely listening to one another's opinions, and checking and rechecking facts against the propaganda machine's slanderous spin might just give us the ability to cast a ballot that is worthy of the lives that paid for it.

Today we shifted gears from our normal full bore mode of working on the bigger projects on our house (the wall) to some more indoor friendly activities thanks to being hammered by Hannah. Yes we are only experiencing her tail which makes me send up even more prayers for our friends smack in the path of Ike likely to land on top of them at a scary CAT 3 on our beloved island. Here at home her tail is bad enough as we experienced the rattle and crash of a tree coming down in our neighbor's yard and in ours. Thankfully not on top of either house!

So we are holed up inside. Inspite of the threatening weather I am somewhat grateful for the change. Yesterday Bryan and I finished (this time really) our bungalow designs for Exnihilo. Having several revisions inflicted on us by the builder to bring them up to CAT 4 code seemed almost ridiculous until today. Truly these prefabs are overly engineered but the company boasts having never lost a single structure in a hurricane, and they have them built in some of the worst hurricane areas (andrew, katrina, etc). So after going back and forth with the engineering department wanting to maintain a design with big windows and great views without sacrificing safety, we are finally done! Giving up on some original "non-negotiables" actually gave way to solving other problems that the designs were facing. Now our cute little bungalows will actually have a view of both coasts!(the island is only four miles wide and you can see the leeward and atlantic from our property.

But I have to admit it was a great exercise, because these little guys(bungalows) were supposed to be the easy part of the project. As we continue to poke at the larger building I can only imagine what changes we will have to accept when engineering gets a hold of HER!

Still, as I sit here listening to the rain pounding our roof I am ever so grateful for the frustration.

So there is more design to do today, plus hunting and cataloging new recipes for our menu. It is a cooking kinda day so I pulled out my breadmaker and made some whole wheat and a spicy vegi stew to go with it.

And as I wait for the bread to come out, my stomach growling, I pour through other recipes we have used in the past along with new ones appropriate for a tropical paradise.

Grilled Salmon on Gorgonzola Pear Salad

Bryan and I spent labor day in total inspiration mode. We hauled ourselves down to Glen Echo Park to check out their yearly mega art show. Putting us in this kind of environment on a regular basis is so important because it is easy to forget about what inspires. With non-stop election buzz and hurricanes bearing down on our country and our beloved little island (our prayers are with you my friends, hang in there and stay safe!) it is easy to lose the vision and cocoon. I know I seem totally obsessed with our bahamas dream, and maybe that is what is necessary to get to the next stage, but truthfully it takes a lot of fuel for this fire.

So it is good to take in some external stimulation and going to where creativity happens is key. There is something that hangs in the air in a place like this. Seeing work in process seems to create an electric current that surrounds you.

Bryan and I walked around taking in the sites but were in full fact finding mode. We even discovered a workshop being held in the bahamas (a few islands over from ours) which was a great reminder and encourager that our idea isn't totally nutty, and if you build it they will come.

Me, taken by Bryan.

Inspiring things...

tie dye good luck flag. I love this which again proves that I am a hippie at heart.

pots in process...

glass fusion...

one of the gallery spaces at Glen Echo... specifically the student gallery. Bryan and I looked at all the great work and then started analyzing the space. I got a weird look from a couple of people as I pulled out my camera and began to shoot the ceiling. Every little bit helps when you are designing space, and we are still in the throws of the design of the big building which holds the gallery space. Having tangible references like this is really helpful. I am sure the folk there wondered what was wrong with us as we kept looking up instead of at the work. The didn't know we were counting ceiling tiles!

Last weekend was all about friends, great food and inspiration that flows when creativity sparks creativity. Saturday Bryan roasted a chicken on our rotisserie while I made a salad for our new friend Angela who has been kind enough (and brave enough) to embark on a new project with me. We gathered for a brainstorming session after the food and after her gracious offer of giving me a private yoga session. Angela is a fabulous teacher and has a similar approach and spirit towards life. The evening was topped off with Bryan's lava cake and the impression that the meeting of the minds was a fruitful one. It is truly amazing to me what can happen in collaboration when all players are open to giving, learning, and willing to listen to their collective "gut". Good things to come from this. I will give more details and keep any interested reader posted once we get a little further into the project past the fragile state of conception.

Then sunday we were blessed with friends from Baltimore, Dan and Sue, and baby Rex. As you know this family doesn't entertain often, and when we do it is only the closest of friends or visiting family. The afternoon flew by in fun conversation spiced with Mojitos, a london broil topping a spinach gorganzola salad, and yes again...Bryan's lava cake. Daniel and his girlfriend Heather joined us too.

But we also did something a little different.

Five herb ice cream.

I know it sounds kinda like it has the potential for true ickyness, but I have to tell you this stuff is yummy. We (Bryan) bumped into the recipe years ago and we made it right then and never revisited it until now. With all my herbs at peak picking and the summer beginning to wane, it just made sense to give this another go. And it was fabulous. You use five herbs of your choice (and it can be anything) for the flavor.

This time we used Mint, Lavender, Basil, Rosemary, and Sage.

cooking the herbs into the custard before straining and putting into the icecream maker.

It is super easy to make and is a very refreshing and intriguing dessert. This little exercise launched me into another project...

The menu for Exnihilo.

Of course I think it is fitting that the first really confirmed "yes we must use this" recipe would be a dessert! Although I have been collecting bits and pieces here and there, this is the first one that landed in the big Exnihilo Proposal. ExPro is my giant scrivner document that acts as both a business plan and an ongoing repository for any ideas that are linked to the big dream. From food ideas to fundraising notions, to the hard core businessy type number stuff that one should have to make something this big fly. The Five Herb Ice Cream launched a whole new file... the Exnihilo Cook Book...Food for Inspiration ;-). I mentioned this to my husband as we were driving and he just laughed and then said...

"You don't stop", while lovingly shaking his head. Of course he was the one later that day(monday) to nearly force me to sign up for a glass fusion class because of the research value it would hold for...

you guessed it,

Exnihilo.

So we continually motivate and countermotivate one another ;-).

I have a new article published by Gifted for Leadership !

-------------------------------

It has been an interesting few months for me. I had to give up something. Something that I don't remember choosing, and don't remember signing my name too, but yet I held tight to. Something that I intellectually knew was not necessary, but my heart would not let go of.

A notion.

As a family we have been incredibly blessed. The culmination of our experiences have created the fabric of memory that I will gaze back on with great affection. We are healthy, we have everything we need and more. We have talents and gifts and interests that constantly give fuel and excitement to our days. We have been able to travel and enjoy leisure. We have a faith that has seen us through the extreme difficulty of having to redefine it and leave the institution we call church. The last few years have been unexpected.

But most of life is like that... unpredictable.

I haven't blogged about Daniel much of late because I was still navigating the notion. This notion was that there are certain formulas for a successful life. And it is funny because if I were to have this conversation with someone I would be the last one to subscribe to a "formula" of any kind. In fact I have always thought of myself as someone who rebels against them.

Except for this one thing.

This last spring when Daniel came home from MICA we came to the conclusion that he shouldn't go back. And that he would take a year off.

For some reason, the idea of him not going back to school right away was hard for me to adjust too. And the silly thing is in this time that we are living in, it really doesn't matter. School, I mean. Granted, my hope is that he ultimately finishes his degree, perhaps via UMD but the point is that my hope is no longer an expectation.

I am letting go of the notion.

Although the phrase, "There is more that one way to skin a cat" is ridiculous when you really think about it, the spirit of it applies to life, and is helping me dispel of my notion.

The notion that things have to be "a certain way".

I wonder how many hidden "notions" live inside our being waiting to be provoked by some little experience life throws at us that makes us wonder where that "notion" came from. But when exposed, what is revealed is something inflexible that needs to be made flexible.

Do you have a "notion" that you need to be rid of?

I am finding a new freedom in putting away some of these expectations. The best surprise is that they give way to new possibilities that you might not think of.

Daniel is doing great in his new way of life. He doesn't miss MICA, in fact when I asked him last(just because I had to keep taking the temperature) he replied without even a blink. No regrets. And as I sit here typing he is presently taking the train to his new job in downtown DC at a design firm that he is totally excited about.

Lessons of life have been happening exponentially since he left school, and we don't even have to pay for them;-)

Our life as a family as it is right now is unconventional to be sure. But I have always liked being unconventional. It keeps things interesting. I just have to remember to dump those "notions".

The grapes are kinda stemmy but that is mostly thanks to pilfering birds. Even after covering the plants with screens the buggers managed to get past them and feast on the best bunches. Note to self for next year...buy netting.

At any rate, this little experiment continues, as I picked, juiced and began a tiny batch of vino. The quantity is such that I will be lucky to get 5 bottles or ten splits, but I don't care. At this point it is the exercise that I am interested in. To be involved in the entire cycle has a sort of compelling charm. Yea, I admit it is sort of a crunchy granola, get-in-tune-with-the-earth kinda thang, but that's sort of the point. The fact that something takes so much time is a great reminder of the way of things outside an instant culture. And I am working on my skills as a gardner, hopefully to translate that to our bahamas project a few years from now. Everything seems to be feeding into it. Learning new recipes for cooking and feeding visiting artists to learning how to mortar a brick wall(last weekend's project), to growing herbs, and possibly bananas, coconut, and yes, even grapes. It is interesting how past experiences start to culminate, unfolding a bigger picture of what will be. Like the sum of your life. The pieces may look out of place when separate, but added up it looks like you were headed this way on purpose all along. Like you spent your life in training.

It all adds up, and it is all good;-)

Friday's painting gave way to what could be considered a finished piece. I couple of details I think I might hone still, but overall I feel pretty good about this one. It looks like this style may stick with me for a while. This one came from a deeper place in the soul. A lot like "formation" this one hit the canvas without planning prompting or preliminary sketching. It felt more comfortable if that makes any sense. It continues to be an interesting journey. And I have to admit being encouraged when Daniel told me he thought that it was my best piece so far. Something matured in this one. Cool that what I was feeling in my gut was actually validated by what he said.

Well, I wasn't expecting these vines to fruit at all this year since I planted them last year, but apparently my relentless pruning and fussing over them paid off. I might even get a small batch of wine out of them if the birds don't keep eating them.

I finally got around to building this thing. I had cut the wood and stained it months ago and the pieces sat around waiting for today. Apparently not doing anything yesterday made the need to finish something even greater today. Of course I still need to finish staining the rest of the deck!!

deck trellis for wisteria

Our special little restaurant will miss this special girl. A going away party was held after hours to say goodbye to Rebecca. After working and managing this place for two and a half years she is moving on to better things. More music and teaching and less serving wine to others. Funny how a little neighborhood haunt can become a hub of cheer, the people, like family.

The owner Walter with Micheal behind the bar, Luis and Ben, Bryan, Becca with champagne, Becca "86ed"

Weird saturday. Normally raring to go to launch into all projects outdoors Bryan and I instead were meant to stay inside. Although we put on our grubbies and headed outside, a few shovels worth of gravel and we looked at each other knowingly...

I guess after all the work we did last weekend, we needed some time off.

So we headed inside for a somewhat do-nothing day. Actually Bryan can never "do nothing", he just isn't that kind of guy, so he poked away at email issues on my laptop while I regressed back to a kindergarten state.

When I embark on any design ideas regarding remodeling or otherwise I tend to keep a folder of clippings of images and articles that inspire me. I did it for the rooms in our house, and the outside.

So of course I am going to do it with Exnihilo.

But one thing I have never done is put those clippings together in some fashion such as collage. I never took the time or felt the need. But I thought this exercise would be good to shake some things loose and more importantly, land on an exterior color for our buildings. It is a very big decision and I have to give that info to our builders asap. So, saturday I sprawled out on our living room floor with scissors and glue.

It felt a little silly, but also a little therapeutic.

Back to kindergarten...

Artist date had me working on exnihilo stuff until later in the day when I finally picked up the brush. I am liking the movement in this piece so far.

Shifting from show night to yardwork can make your head spin, especially if you don't get enough sleep, but we plunged in to saturday and sunday at full speed anyway. The weather was on our side as it was not as hot as before and Bryan and I mustered the strength to haul and set a ton of bricks.

Actually 2 tons of bricks...

Well, 4200 lbs to be exact. Each.

And that doesn't include all the gravel we shoveled and hauled as well.

Of course all that means is that upon getting up this morning neither one of us could move. It is like a crash course in body building. What is that creaking sound? Oh, it is my back.;-)

putting up the newly finished (old) handrail

installing the drainpipe

Believe it or not this isn't finished yet. We have two and a half more feet (up) to go on top of this. The design will change slightly as the rest will be a straight wall to be seen from both sides, not just a retaining wall. For visual interest we might just start that wall behind the existing one. Sometimes plans change as you go ;-) And then there is the lower, old existing wall that we (I) will be stucco-ing.

Can't go back to sleep. The voices came really early this time. Five thirty I was awakened by what I could call "the replay". I think it is an introverted thing. If I have had a very people interactive day it tends to revisit me the next day in an involuntary playback. Every conversation of the past evening came flooding in at five-thirty. Brain engaged...won't shut up.

You think it could have at least had the courtesy of waiting a few more hours.

Oh well, it is what it is. And it isn't so bad when it was such a great night.

Although this evening wasn't publicized and no invitations were sent, there were still a few folk that came out and viewed the work. And the "magazine person" actually did show up and I actually did give an interview. And I actually had half a brain(thankfully). It was pretty cool to have someone take an interest in the work enough to want to write about it... questions about color choice, motivation, "when did you know you wanted to be an artist"?...things like that.

and then the kind interviewer said...

"Tell me about your artist retreat, Exnihilo, we would love to promote that in the magazine".

yes.yes.yes.yes.yesssssss.

This is the kind of moment I think of as a bread crumb. Not a scrap from the table kind, but the kind that lead you on a journey aka Hansel and Gretel. One activity in life might propel another and in this little sleeper of a gallery, a show in a humble frame shop has turned up more tiny steps forward.

And there was more. One woman in particular mentioned that she thought my work would be great in the Strathmore and gave me a name...

"Talk to Millie".

As well as complementing my work and graciously comparing it to early Georgia O'keefe.(my jaw dropped as she said it)

Meanwhile, Daniel was following his own bread crumb. The gallery owner, Ginger prompted him to go talk to another gallery owner down the street who had seen his painting and showed an interested in his work. So he and his girlfriend Heather headed down there for a bit to make an appearance. Another opportunity door opened just a crack.

You never know where they are going to come from but when they show up all you have to do is follow the trail...

one bread crumb at a time.

How many mothers get this experience!

I am happy to say that Mcgees Gallery decided to have my show run for another month which includes another art walk reception this friday night. I'd love to say it was because my work was so very popular that it attracted crowds of people but the truth is I think the gallery owner just didn't want to bother taking it down to hang a new show ;-). But I am fine with that as long as it keeps getting wall space!
Having said that I am thrilled(and freaked out) that Washington's Finest Magazine is doing an interview tomorrow night at the reception. Pray I have half a brain to be able to say something intelligent about the work.

And the other great thing is that in all of this we get to promote Exnihilo. All the pennies made from the sales of my work are being funneled into our pet project so we are going to be plugging it to anyone who is standing still and willing to listen. I also embarked upon redesigning our flyer to address those special individuals that would be patrons. It is a new concept for me that used to hold a sense of taboo around it. Not anymore. We will be calling on the help both physical and financial from anyone who has a heart for this kind of thing.

Hey, it cant hurt. We have the passion and creative resources. Maybe someone else out there can provide the cash. We will see...

But back to the show...
Daniel will be joining the reception this time to take questions about his work (he has one piece hanging along with mine), so it is kind of a mother and son show, which is cool. Anyway...anyone who is in the neighborhood between 6 and 9 friday night (aug 8) please feel free to stop by for a glass of wine and conversation.

ignore the dates on the card... reception Aug 8, 6-9

What is it like to see artists who are truly giants in their craft perform live?

Awe inspiring.

That is what we experienced last night at the RTF (Return to Forever) concert. It is one thing to hear each of these guys on various recordings over the years. It is something altogether different seeing them live... together.

Chick Corea
Al Di Meola
Stanley Clarke
Lenny White

The effortlessness of their performance comes only from a well honed skill, but the child-like way in which they played with each other comes from truly loving what you do.

I bought tickets for Bryan's birthday back in June and we have been looking forward to the concert since then. It was inspiring, amazing, and of course historic as they have not played together on tour in over 25 years.

The other thing that struck us was the graciousness and humility displayed by the players. Both in speaking about one another, and in their actions toward the audience, shaking hands with those at the front of the stage.

I am finding more and more examples of folk who seem to exude humility when they have truly earned the right(if anyone does) to be arrogant. It seems that if you are at the top of your game there is nothing left to posture about!

Stunning.

Bryan and I on the lawn at the concert. I decided to wear my beloved silver sunglasses and tie-dye silk. Can you say, "closet hippie"?

return to forever site:
http://www.return2forever.com/index.cfm

This one not quite done but a good start. I reverted back to acrylics for a point of reference and perspective on the two mediums. Had little intention of painting today but as Bryan left the house this morning after a goodbye kiss he smiled and asked..."painting today"?

Feeling so blessed to have this kind of encouragement from my favorite cheerleader, I cracked a few pages of Artist Way and was reminded again to "Just show up at the page". Or in my case, canvas. Having no plan but wanting to tap into what was underneath I hit a blank canvas with my pencil and what emerged was the concept of peace. Internal peace.

sketch

underpainting

without the grid

grid in process

We have a place that we go to every monday night. It is a little wine shop that serve great food, great wine but is really cheap and we have come to really love the people who gather and work there. It is like a modern Monmarte tucked into our town. If you live near Silver Spring I highly recommend it.

A good wine and some tasty, fresh food, a good desert and some great company...

what could be better than that to start your week.

ZAZIN pairs nicely with a burger.

Here our friend and artist Luis exchanges a friendly banter with Rebecca, who works there. Rebecca also plays the viola. For some reason the place attracts artists, both working there and eating there. Tonight we chatted with Jared who is in theatre and ministry. We saw some of Ben's paintings via Luis. Both these guys are waiters. Another waiter, Michael who yells out the numbers of orders in a big booming voice was not there tonight...he is a photographer with work hanging in the restaurant. We have been such regulars there that the staff know us as "the andersons" and treat us like family. It is an interesting place.

This weekend was sort of an odds and ends as we chip away at our great wall project. Someone might think us insane for taking on something so big.

And they would probably be right...
if it weren't for the empowerment that results in attempting something beyond yourself and actually accomplishing it...

or even just the attempt.

And for all of the blog entries over the last few years that look like a "what I did today" entry, there actually is some deeper life lessons here.

These are just a few things that are emerging in this experience. Spiritual, soul changing, character building stuff...

1. Something worthwhile takes time.
We are such a hurry up culture that everything around us from instant cereal to 24 hour news fosters an expectation for obtaining what you want right now without the payment of effort or time. We are an impatient generation. It amazes me that walking through the isles of an art store there are so many examples of "instant" creativity. Kits that take away the process(where the learning is) in order to "make" something that looks good and be able to say that you made it.

That makes me crazy.

The noble value of apprenticing or learning a craft or a skill has somehow been replaced with the idea that everyone can do everything. Which leads me to my next point...

2. Embracing the process is as important as seeking the finish line.
I like closure. I really do. But there is something very special that is gained when forced to live the process.

Wisdom.

There are insights, and knowledge found inside the process of any undertaking that are not found in the "instant". Sometimes we discover our limitations, but I think more often we discover what we CAN do and build character qualities along with skill. Things like patience and endurance.

3. Recognizing that failure isn't failure.
We all know the quotes from various folk, inventors and such that refer to failures or mistakes as steps toward success. And it is true. The problem is we like the quotes but we don't like to do the work. In this grand process we have had many of what I like to call "roadblocks". Someone might call them failures, but when they are added up and the dust clears the finished product will look like a success.

4. Nothing stays perfect/everything changes.
When you finish something you kind of want it to stay exactly the way you finished it(at least I do) but I have learned that reality has things ever moving, changing, sometimes degrading. The change in seasons for instance can do a number on something that was newly built last season, but without the changes you wouldn't be able to grow a garden. So being able to accept what doesn't stay perfect while enjoying and channeling the benefits of change is something I have recently taken to heart. An example is a Wisteria stalk that I stuck in the ground near our fence three years ago. Today I am training it to cascade across the front of our deck and into an arched arbor. I anticipate what it will look like next year when in its tree-like state, it finally blooms.

Patience.

As we move along with our projects, things that I longed to be finished to the point of frustration look more like opportunities for growth now. Setting aside some of my need for closure (notice I said "some") I have been able to live a little more in the moment and seek those benefits in the process, and maybe even feel good about them.

At least that is how I feel today ;-)

Here is Bryan grinding the old finish off of the metal handrail that we will put back in place to finish the wall. The entire fence goes around the pool and is probably fifty years old.

Had a visitor like this last year around this time. This time there were two, this one was eating out of one of my planters and then decided that my grape vines looked tasty so I stepped outside to make my presence known.

run, run, run.

There cute until they want to eat a prized crop.

then...

not so much.

Painting day on friday shifted into project wall on saturday. The biggest roadblock was the heat measuring in at 94 degrees. This slowed us down a bit but we still made some headway and had fun jumping in the pool to cool off.

You think we will ever get it done?

One thing that I am really pleased about is that the juniper that I planted last year after succumbing to the Costco Dilemma not only lived but doubled in size. Next year they should fill in the wall nicely and maybe even creep over the sides.

Well, I let the muse loose but she must have been dropping acid.

Or regressing to cave painting, or faux painting, or a combination...

faux-cave painting?

Truthfully I am still exploring the behavior of water soluable oils and today ended up being a series of experiments landing on the canvas. It is a funky medium. You can treat it like watercolor (which I am not that big a fan of) or you can paint like it is oil. One thing I don't like about the water color-like behavior is that you can fall into using "techniques" that lack control but can give you a neat "effect". Like with faux painting (which I never followed the directions for anyway). Somehow I think less of this in a painting than being in full control of the paint.

Yea, I am a control freak.

But... if I was practiced enough then maybe it wouldn't feel like It was a technique.

Anyway, I learned a lot. One thing I am not sure about is what to do with the paintings that I consider practice studies.

Here is "Woman"

"Woman" detail.

I woke this morning with the intention of honoring the artist date and stroke the muse and tend to my creative soul. Even though there is work of various kind and the thought of it dares to leave a threatening track through my brain causing distraction from what is truly necessary.

art.

I have resumed a winning schedule of balance that helps bring forth the muse. That being yoga, eating breakfast (yea it does make a difference, at least for me) and compartmentalizing tasks that can encroach if you let them. Truthfully the world and all its needs will always press, so it is up to the individual to make the space to allow amazing things to happen. It is important space and must be protected and nurtured.

Sometimes this space is where you find your truest self.

Remove the noise and the endless static, present your body as it is, a vessel that holds endless possibilities and light shines in.

At this stage in my life I can read what strikes the chords my heart better than before, but recognizing what thrills is not enough if there is no follow through. In fact, for a creative person the place right after inspiration can be the most fragile. In between inspiration and execution is where so many get lost. And a practiced soul may make it through the execution but then feel the depth of depletion on the other side.

Sometimes I fear that part.

After accomplishing a work you can feel as if a piece of you has broken off and blown away into the wind. It can be a painfully hollow place.

But there is potential for elation too and when you have poured out yourself into your art sometimes it pours something back.

Unravelling these things can be a challenge. Discovering the longings of your heart is first. But it is a romantic notion to think that it stops there. The true rewards come from following that longing to its fruition, pouring out the price brings something wonderful.

A ceramics installation at Artomatic. Hundreds of corkscrew-like shards attached to a white wall.

I had an interesting revelation looking at a series of pics I took at this installation. The craft makes me very happy. In fact that day, viewing the whole ceramics installation turned me on more that viewing the painted works.

Hmm...

Although my journey at this point involves painting primarily, it is harder, requires me to dig deeper, and exacts a greater emotional price than other creative work that I have done. The craft, working with my hands, whether with metal or clay holds a certain kind of ease. I am not sure if it is because it is a practiced skill and therefore flows more easily or if the content of a sculptural work (for me) leaves me less vulnerable.

not sure... just thinking it through.

A few days ago I inquired about a class at a local glass studio.

Again... the craft.

turns me on.

But today...

a blank canvas stares at me from the easel. Time to have a conversation with it.

Today Bryan and I were still in serious rest mode, but the wall continued to taunt us as this project only moves forward on the weekends and Bryan's days off. Mustering a little energy in spite of the ninety degree heat, Bryan decided to lay a few more bricks.

Notice I said, Bryan.

I was not much help managing only to tote a couple bricks from one side of the yard to the other and hauling a little gravel and sand. No, I spent the time sprawled on our purple floaty in the pool.(and I am so grateful that no one snapped a picture of THAT.)

It was just too hot, and I was still too tired.

But the heroic Bryan made great strides with the base coarse. It really is the hardest, and most tedious part(aside from the initial excavation last year).

At the end of the row.

Leveling, leveling, leveling, leveling...

It is saturday morning, the morning after last night's reception and I sip my coffee while replaying the tapes in my mind of last nights conversations.

It was a great night.

There was a great turnout of folk to this funky little gallery on Bethesda's Art Walk. In fact the evening was a bit of a blur. Once people started to arrive there was really no lull.

Perfect.

And the best part was that people really "got" the work.

Feeling a little strange about hanging some of the older work this time ("girl in a box" and "seeds") I wanted the contrast of the attitude to be seen. People really seemed to respond to the symbolism of the work, and the contrast from "girl in a box" to "dancing in thin places" helped that big picture process.

So, this morning I am uber-tired having over extended my introverted self with three plus solid hours of chatting with folk about the work and doing it in heels none-the-less. It is still a little surreal thinking about those who approached me, hand outstretched, saying...

"You are the artist?"

Yes (weird). I felt like looking over my shoulder to search for the individual that they must be referring to.

Oh yea... its me.

The last show's reception was attended by people that I knew so this was a bit of a different experience being received by strangers. It was wonderful to listen to the reactions of folk and hear the personal interpretations. It was also interesting being questioned about how the work came about, what inspired me, whether I dreamed the work first, the process, and so on.

The first to arrive was a very elderly woman wearing a funny hat who walked in and went straight for the wine...

hmm...

but as I watched her regard the work I approached her to see if she had any questions...

She looked in my eyes and started to speak of the spiritual nature of the work, how it inspired and how things weren't always as they seem...

Wow. so true.

Later, when the room had filled with other viewers she warmly shook my hand and thanked me for my work.

Before I knew it it was after nine and there were still people chatting and sipping wine. Bryan and I hadn't had dinner so we excused ourselves to go get a bite.

The work will hang at Mcgees for a month.

me in front of "girl in a box". Mcgees brightly painted walls, unconventional by most gallery standards were the perfect backdrop for my work.

Today I feel as if I am displaced. I feel like I am a long long way from home, which can be a positive thing if it is a way to track if you are moving in the right direction. If you long for the destination you must be going the right way. But tending to the journey has always been something that I have had to work at. I have been very intentional about this through our family life, intentional about our travel, making memories, being present. Looking back I am pleased with what has been, what was accomplished, and where it has taken us. Discernment and following.

But today I feel displaced in a way that can either bring discontent, or be channeled into something more productive. Time to recalibrate. When things seem like they are in front of me too much instead of me infront of them I get a little uncomfortable. A reactive state as opposed to a proactive state just feels yucky to this INTJ. Sometimes it comes from things that are just out of my control, and sometimes it comes as a result of procrastinating one thing to accomplish another, or just because I don't want to do it... today.

Ever get that way?

Employing some reflection and a little bit of focus and things should come clear. Truthfully the target is in sight, but it is a pretty big target and the journey is not a straight line, in fact some of the road I can not see yet.

Discernment and following.

Our fourth weekend didn't look very patriotic. Part of the lack of fourth-like activity was due to the fact that last weekend we sort of covered it with Mike and Laurelle and the kids. After they left on tuesday morning (july 1st) I went back to bed and didn't get up until six that evening (its an introvert thang). So when this weekend rolled around neither Bryan or I were in a mood to do anything festival-ish. So we stayed home and worked on two projects.

Exnihilo designs, more specifically, the main building.

and...

the wall.

Exactly one year ago we were attacking that project and ran out of stone. The last few weeks the new stone has been sitting in our front yard begging to be placed. Between weather and lack of motivation it was really hard to get back onto this project, but Sunday we managed to get the wheels rolling again.

Yea we are crazy, i'll admit it. But we sure have fun.

Working in sketchup on the Exnihilo main building.

The beginnings of the second wall.

I think it is done (which probably means it's not). It is my first real attempt at using oils which take a painfully long time to dry. After using acrylics I like the versatility of oils to a point, until I want it to be dry and then I lose patience. But here is Kissed By the Sun. I am clearly longing for our little island as this one sort of sprang on me in a moment of discontent. Depicting peace when in conflict is interesting. I guess the canvas was the answer to the question broiling in my soul. Some new elements I am playing with like a not-so-tight approach and some textures that add some life I think. My woman is dancing on the beach, the spirit of peace resting in her hand from the other side.

A rare occasion this weekend was having Bryan's sister Laurelle, her husband Mike, and their two kids, Jayden and Heidi come for a visit. What a fun time. Not only did we cram a trip to DC, Baltimore, and Six Flags, a ballgame and a movie into four days but our swimming pool has never seen so much action. And then there were the chess lessons for Jayden with Bryan and Daniel teaching, and the "High School Musical" lessons with Heidi teaching. (Heidi is only four but despite her limited size and age she is a fashionista through and through and does a mean Sharpe Evens impression.)

Chess lessons.

getting on the metro. Notice big brother's protective grip on little sister who kept wanting to step over the line.

At the Washington Monument Heidi on Mike's shoulders.

Time in the pool.

Jayden pulling Heidi around in the floaty. Heidi willing to model a bathing suit (she had several) but not wanting to get her hair wet!

Everyone in pool. Bryan showing Jayden how to put on the snorkel.

Jayden snorkeling like a pro.

What do you do when you haven't seen a friend in years and they just happen to be passing through town?

Meet for coffee to catch up on old times maybe? Go for dinner or a quick bite?

Normally the answer would be yes...

Unless that friend is a heavy metal rock star, Nicko McBrain, in which case you get back stage passes to have that coffee...

or in this case tea (Nicko being a good brit).

After a few days of calls and emails of "let's get together", yesterday Bryan woke up to an email that stated there would be passes at the gate for us and a friend that night.

Hey, when you are on tour there is only so much time to go around. Very gracious on Nicko's part, there isn't a sweeter man(at least in the heavy metal industry;-). And even though I am not a metal head, a concert would be fun but the best part would be to see Nicko again.

So our family and our friend Jeff (who is a maiden fan) headed toward Merriweather Post for the"Somewhere Back in Time" tour of Iron Maiden.

After the quasi-strip-search security check we collected our passes. I have to admit feeling somewhat guilty and undeserving. So many metal fans would give an arm and a leg for what I was about to put around my neck... the v.i.p tag. The venue was filled with the faithful followers of this band from the last several decades, and I felt like a somewhat privileged imposter. I hadn't earned this tag from years of collecting Maiden albums or hours listening to Maiden lyrics (I couldn't sing a single phrase). I hadn't worshiped at the alter of Eddie, the mummified mascot of the band. No, I got to wear this tag which allowed me into that hallowed ground (back stage) because my husband discipled the drummer.

Yea, weird I know. Any metal fans reading this just had their heads explode.

So we know Nicko in a very different way, a friend and brother in christ.

If you are confused you have a right to be. These are the weird twists and turns in one's journey that reminds you that god has a sense of humor and loves to be ironic. The back story in a nutshell...

Bryan was working as what we use to call "programming director" which was the equivalent of music director and leader of creative teams while planning services...etc, etc... for a large church in florida. One sunday his friend Adam(pic below) and member of the praise team spots this guy in the congregation and points him out to Bryan who then for some reason is prompted to catch him after the service and talk to him. The guy is searching. A dialogue ensues that becomes a discipleship relationship and friendship. Some great soul searching times. In a nutshell it is one of those cool god stories. Nicko even played on the praise team once in awhile (when he wasn't on tour). We had the honor of standing up for Rebecca and him at the renewing of their vows... spiritual stuff...normal life stuff...ministry stuff...

not rock star stuff...

Fast forward to the present...

the pass

So now as I look down at this v.i.p tag I marvel at how bizarre life can be. We entered the room that is the "back stage" where food is laid out for the band, looking for Nicko only to get ushered out by one of the band's guard dogs a minute later waved back in by a smiling Nicko...

"Come in, come in... do you want something to eat?" (in that cool british accent) Kissing me on the cheek and giving Bryan and Daniel hugs along with a welcome and a handshake to our friend Jeff. He is wearing colorful and comfy scrub pants and a t-shirt with a cute cartoon character playing golf that says, "life is good".

Nicko loves to golf.

He ushers us in and points out the beverages, "tea?", I grab a cup and he drops a "proper english tea bag" into it, all the while chatting about this and that, lamb and yorkshire pudding was his dinner, "thank you Lord" (it is a favorite, again, being a good brit). We sit down and catch up on the status of friends, his wife and son, and so on. He talks about getting "clobbered" by a golfball that someone "shanked" without yelling four. Admitting that he had to stop and pray so not to get aggressive with the offender, "It was just an accident after all", while his injured wrist begins to swell from the indent of the golf ball. He laughs with that big smile continuing with the story of how he had a show that very night and his wrist wouldn't bend. "I had to adapt a little," showing us the awkward way in which he had to hold his drumstick to play. Smiling and shrugging like it was no big deal... from one of the best rock drummers in the world.

Conversation continues as he pulls out a tissue, apologizing that he has a sniffle all the while as jovial as a boy. He laughs and jokes with Bryan and Daniel bringing up some memories of when Daniel was twelve...

good memory.

We talk of other spiritual things but time is too short...

And then there is someone that needs an interview and although he seem reluctant to he cheerfully tells the guy to give him a few minutes more. We start to say our goodbyes and I snap a quick picture.

He has to be tired and feeling under the weather, or at the very least pre-occupied with having to be on stage in just a few minutes...

but you would never know it. A beautiful soul as unpretentious and gracious as can be.

daniel, nicko, and bryan

As we walk into the venue and take our seats I can't help but analyze the subculture that surrounds us. Since I am not really a "fan" I sort of sit outside of the experience. Like anyone that is passionate about their thing whether it is a sports team, or another collective event, these people are clearly excited about what is about to happen. Some have flown from other countries to be here, and I am again feeling a little undeserving of the seats Nicko so graciously gave us. After all we came to chat with Nicko, not really see the concert. It is interesting to see some that are here to relive a moment that captured them two decades ago, and others who are new to the "maiden family" too young to have been around at the beginning of the band, but love the music now. We watch as Eddie, the larger than life ghoulish mascot traipse through history via the various album covers from british soldier to pharaoh. As the sets change and the band takes on their rocker poses as they play, I have to laugh at them pursing their lips like super-models...

the fans love it.

Clearly the band does too. They are not only great musicians but the genuinely love what they are doing, and are so in sinc with each other that it is obvious that they have been together for years. What little you can see of Nicko behind the drums is nothing but a blur, except when he pops up from behind with that big smile.

I remember years ago when Bryan and he were meeting to discuss all things spiritual. Being a new believer there was some discussion about the life of a heavy metal rock star possibly coming into conflict with being a follower of Jesus. What does it mean to be transformed? Some might be quickly and self-righteously offended by the ghoulish image of "eddie". To my husband's credit, he was not and instead encouraged Nicko to be the "salt and light" within "the world" that he lived in, rather than to quit, an arguably easier road.

What does it mean to be a witness? What does it mean to speak the language of the culture?

Nicko is not shy about his Christian-ness, and if any fan were to ask they might get an earful.

Let those who have ears let them hear.

And as for what to do with Edward the Head, I remember Nicko saying years ago in that accent of his...

"It's all in good fun, you know, big Eddie the head".

our friend jeff, daniel, bryan and me sitting in row "k"

nicko sits very low behind the set. you can just see his leg back there playing the kick drum barefoot. the little stuffed eddie the pharaoh bear perched on the kick drum.

nicko standing behind his drums

the band pursing their lips under a large Eddie the Head dressed as a british soldier with flag.

the crowd

lead singer with golden eddie sarcophagus

nicko throwing his drumsticks to a hopeful crowd

And I had to go rummaging for some older photos... blasts from the past...
in Jan 2004, bryan, adam young, and nicko

back in 2000, the krives, the andersons, and the mcbrains.

Herb harvest this year has been great so far. Pesto from the basil last week and cilantro for fresh salsa this weekend (great recipe, Sis), and mint for Mojitos!

Taking a lunch break from yard work with some tasty grilled chicken sausage and mojitos with mint from the garden.

Feverfew flowers being prepared for tincture.

Ok they won't be grey with a red roof, but this is what the structures will be shaped like. The inside has a kitchenette, bath, and a bedroom area that is on a raised platform. The second story bungalow has an additional loft.

Bryan and I worked on the larger building design last weekend, but barely managed to get the kitchen designed. The larger building is a bit of a brain buster. And although the idea of having a round building is intriguing, it is a pain to design with.

Spending the last few days outside in the heat makes me appreciate the life cycle of my garden even more. Spring launched into summer without much warning and my plants took off without my permission. But it is all good, as nature has its rhythm with or without you. Here is a ladybug doing its good work on my feverfew that I harvested for a tincture. Among other lessons this year like learning to grow grapes I am experimenting with the more medicinal uses for herbs. Another useful tool when stranded on an island years from now.

and on the mint

I started this last friday and immediately hated it for its colors clashed in the beginning. But the content spoke to me that day so I continued with the experiment. Being a strange week of schedule hiccups and after yesterday's lack of success, I opted to paint today and made peace with some of the colors in the new scheme. I am also working with water soluble oils for the first time, which behave differently than acrylics but I am liking what they bring, although it is an adjustment.

It is good to be painting again.

And clearly thin places is going to be with me for a while. This piece comes from a need to be back on the island where life is simpler and you are surrounded by natural beauty.

A conference in downtown DC for Bryan sent the three of us downtown to go our various directions to then meet back for an art exhibit of our friend Luis Scotti at the Embassy of Uruguay.

Yea, it is kinda weird living in DC.

While Bryan went to his conference, Daniel and I tucked into a wifi cafe to do a little work... him prepping for a big job interview, me prepping for a cold call on a cultural center and financial institution that has a reputation for funding cultural and environmental projects in latin america and the caribbean. Collecting my promo material for Exnihilo I left Daniel at the cafe while I set out to walk the eight plus blocks to where I thought this place was. Although always directionally challenged when driving, I am much more comfortable finding my way when on foot holding a map. And I didn't have too much trouble finding this place.

I started in the "gallery" that hosts different displays of art and various projects that this institution funds. Hoping I might bump into someone with some insider info I struck out with only a lone security guard staring blankly at the wall.

I asked him anyway.

He directed me to the building next door.

What I was hoping for was a pleasant receptionist who would have all the answers whisking me into the right office with a smiling individual with drawers full of cash just begging for a project like ours to throw money at.

Ok, I admit I come from a Disney generation.

What I got was giant doors I could barely open with all my weight and once I got them open was greeted with a daunting security check point, a tower of elevators on the other side and a maze of departments of untold numbers that went up, and up and up.

This wasn't a place you could just saunter into. It was clear you needed to know where you were going and who you were going to speak to.

I had neither of those.

And the security guard at the door must have thought as much when he noticed me stuck two feet inside the door looking up with my mouth hanging open. He approached me and asked me where I would like to go.

"Cultural and Environmental Grants?", I choked. Giving me a very confused look he ushered me over to a counter with a number of other security people who may know more, and I repeated me request. Since I had no name of an individual they eyed me with suspicion, but one friendly lady wrote a number on a piece of paper and pointed to a lonely telephone over on the wall.

Feeling like I had just been exposed as some sort of impostor I walked over, sheepishly picked up the phone, dialed, and hoped for an angel at the other end.

I got voice mail.

I left a polite message with my number and hung up.

Who was I kidding.

Thanking the guard for his help I decided that maybe numerous phone calls and letters might bring more realistic results than a cold call.

I left.

Even though I had done copious amounts of research online, I apparently needed to do a little more, so I headed back to the cafe.

Eight blocks later I had blisters on the bottoms of my feet (picked the wrong shoes) and realized that my purse was gone.

Ok, the day wasn't going so good.

While checking my previous seat at the cafe while letting Daniel know of my situation a kind stranger overhearing my dismay let me know that my purse was hiding behind the counter.

Phew.

Ok... nothing major gained today, but at least nothing was lost.

Later we met up with Bryan to go to Luis's show. In spite of being the only non-spanish speaking people at the event, we were warmly welcomed by Luis and enjoyed a little wine from Uruguay while viewing his collection of hand printed works.

A great reminder that blisters and roadblocks are worth enduring.

Luis Scotti's work at the Embassy of Uruguay

Daniel viewing some of Luis's work.

Thankfully we got the skylight in last weekend because this weekend there was rain and more rain. So we stayed indoors working on our bahamas dream. After signing the contracts on the 19th I received a daunting packet of info along with the tentative timeline for our building. This included dates for funds required and deadlines for every little thing.

Including our preliminary sketches.

Now I am the time nazi in our house and so seeing dates in print (especially with check boxes next to them!) either totally motivates me or scares me to death. So the sheet from our building supplier did a little of both. A single phone call to our "project manager" put me at ease as although the timelines are helpful they are not written in blood...

still...

someone wrote them down and put neat little check boxes next to them.

And one of those boxes was dated june 4th. Our deadline for sketches.

So with the rain being the best justification for staying in we did a final design of our artist habitats. You'd think that with all the time we'd spent so far they would be done, but we realized that when we took our first design and made it a two-story we forgot that it would need a support pole on the lower floor. So our new design divides up the space, adds multiple levels and a kitchen. The overall layout works pretty well.

But it took us all weekend to finish the "easy one". Because the big building with the gallery, dining area, kitchen, and our living quarters is a whole lot more complex, it will take some real thought. Even though we have the general layout, we had that with the little buildings and it still took us all weekend.

One incremental step at a time.

May was a busy month with lots of changes. One of the biggest and hardest was the decision for Daniel to not just come home for the summer, but leave MICA altogether. I imagine that the adjustment of living in a dorm/apt situation to coming home to your old room is not the easiest thing in the world. And for Bryan and I it meant adjusting back to being a little more parental and acting less like teenagers and remaining fully clothed when in parts of the house other than our bedroom. Adjustments are being made but there are perks on both sides too. Daniel gets his laundry done and home cooked meals and we get an extra pair of hands on our projects as well as great dinner conversation. He has found work as a design contractor and for the time being it seems to be the right thing.

Another change is Bryan going back to UMD. After much luring they enticed him back with a better paycheck and vacation time that can't be beat (can you say four weeks?). They also have this very sweet program that he plans on taking advantage of... working 9 hour days and take every other friday off. Just the cost of gas we will save will be an added perk. His commute is shorter and frankly will make it possible for me to have the car some days which will be good. He officially starts back next week.

I continue to chisel away at the incremental things that move us toward turquoise waters. We ordered our first buildings for Exnihilo, initializing the design process. It was a small thing that represents big things. And I have another show coming up which will keep me painting... that's a good thing.

All these things represent the act of choosing which is sometimes really hard. Often times when faced with a choice that promises change(therefore discomfort) it is tempting to let things lie and not pull the trigger enabling the change. But for what discomfort there is, there also will be rewards.

Or at the very least, it keeps life interesting.

Finally removed what we affectionately called the "beam me up scotty" sky tube that was cracked the day we bought the house and further damaged by the tree trimmers last year who patched it with duct tape. This season brought some rain that found its way through the tape and onto my hand-tiled bathroom sink making the grout crumble. So it was time to fix the initial problem and replace the skylight. So another project tackled on memorial day weekend. Multiple levels of frustration especially when Anderson Window's tech support couldn't even back up their own instructions.

Hey, instructions are over-rated anyway.

So here is Bryan up on the roof cutting a new hole for the window. Notice our roof... a cedar tongue and grove(yes that is all there is to it). Our Element looking antlike in the driveway down below.

Me measuring the felt.

Bryan with the caulking gun filled with tar.

A major step today. Scary, exciting, and somewhat insane. Signed a contract to get the wheels rolling on our first and second structure for Exnihilo. Entering into a contract with anyone always makes me a little paranoid but the company we are working with are making the process so easy that I am actually looking forward to it instead of dreading all the potential roadblocks. Working with different companies the last few years in the remodeling of our home has made me a little road weary, but a little wiser. Hiring on anyone to do anything can be a nightmare if you and your contractor are not on the same page, or even if your expectations of quality are not in sinc. That is why after much research the company we chose seemed a perfect fit.

Maybe it is a little unrealistic to want the builders to really care about our project, but I really need the experience to be positive and I already have an overwhelming peace about our initial experience.

And you have to understand our initial experience has been a dialogue with them since January consisting of me pelting them with questions from siding choices to detailed info about their ability to build something for Long Island. I made myself a bit of a pest, but all the while I never detected a single hint of impatience even though we hadn't even entered into a contract. They even got me in touch with another client building on Long Island who shared valuable info regarding everything from getting your container through customs to cautionary tales.

Bryan and I have done a whole lot of the preliminary design work but I am excited to hand off some of that to these new folks who will be working with us and for us in engineering the details like solar power and rainwater cisterns. We will begin the first set of blueprints next week on one of the artist habitats, the first building that will be built on the property. The target is delivery in march 09...

What do I mean by delivery?

Our buildings will be designed and mostly assembled here. Then those components are put into a container along with whatever finishing materials we choose and shipped to Long Island. In the meantime the foundation will be poured. Delivery is when the building lands on our property where a small team of our Bahamian friends assemble the structure on the pad. We decided on building one of the habitats first (instead of the big building) for a couple of reasons. One is to get a sense of how these things go up and possibly experiencing any kinks with the smaller (easier) unit. Also, it will allow us a place to stay when we build the other larger building, along with acting as a shed for storage of tools and materials. And in order to build the big building we will be selling our house, which is another scary prospect, but will be the next necessary step towards this crazy dream.

Check out Exnihilo.

650 square foot artist habitat

This weekend we took a much needed art break and jumped on the metro and headed for DC's Artomatic.

This unique event is inspiring on so many levels. It is a co-op type show that hosts a variety of artists every year in an unused, partially constructed, or warehouse type building that is different every year.

It was great to take in some of DC's best and worst art I had ever seen. Yea, that is the great thing about artomatic, the venue for emerging artists.

As we wandered the halls I was struck by a number of installations one of which was this ceramics installation of small symbolic books. Upon reading the artist statement I discovered that the collection was a result of the artist staying in a residency, and meeting a poet there was inspired to do this piece.

What a great reminder that our Exnihilo retreat could do some good.

Seeing these pieces made me so happy.

Bryan considering sculpture

Bryan and Daniel at Artomatic

The second of hopefully more to come. I am contributing some of my thoughts to this site:

http://blog.christianitytoday.com/giftedforleadership/2008/05/putting_relationship_in_its_pl.html

Sunday we did the uhaul dance again ala last year. What I had for some reason imagined an easy move using our element was not going to be so easy.

Oh yea... all those big paintings.

So, early Sunday morning we headed down to the uhaul place and rented a truck to move Daniel home.

Much has changed in the last year, one of which was our satisfaction with the place that Daniel goes to school.

Yea, that amazing institute that just two years ago I gushed about totally in love with their program and their reputation, and the fact that Daniel had been accepted into its illustrious halls.

Some things change.

Planning on doing whatever it took to scrape and scramble to pay for this amazing education started to lose some of its romance the first year when tuition was raised second semester and once more this year. Daniel doing his darndest to help out applied for another scholarship and won it but the celebration was short lived when we receivied the tuition increase letter the next day that completely wiped out the new scholarship and more. The date on the increase letter and the scholarship letter was the same...

which kind of ticked me off.

Another dubious thing that made Bryan and I itch was meeting one of Daniel's painting profs, a newly graduated MICA grad student...

hmmm...

Honestly, I still hold the place in high esteem, but for us normal folk trying to pay for college, the stress factor vs. the hard-to-measure value was starting to make us a little crazy. Spending the last six months in a low grade state of anxiety started to wear, and when Daniel admitted that he wasn't sure it was worth it we took a hard look...

and pulled the plug.

This is a hard thing for a parent to do. For me, personally it felt as if we had somehow failed. But when push comes to shove...

well sometimes it is the most basic things that steer your path.

So, even though Daniel has moved back it still feels as if he has moved forward. It is a relief to put into action a looming and nagging conviction, but it can also leave you wondering what the next right thing is. This is the next part of a hard process.

Now, as a family, we have to navigate what the culture might pressure us to do, or what finances would allow us to do, but ultimately land on some creative solution for future days. In the mean time I am trying to treasure the moments together, tense and otherwise.

Although it is not the first original painting that I have ever sold, it is the first in this collection and one that I deeply care about.

It is hard to see it go.

And I swore that if the individual who was purchasing it (who I hadn't met) turned out to be an ass, I was going to refuse to sell it.

ha. can't you just picture that.

But, upon meeting at the agreed location, after shaking hands and polite introductions the new patron turned out to be a lovely man who really "got" the work, and was giving it as a special gift to his lady-love.

So perfectly appropriate.

So I part with it with mixed emotions. Sad to see it go, but so excited that someone appreciates the work.

And something is gained in the letting go. Although no new concepts for work have ambushed me since the show, I feel a new sense of momentum in approaching the canvas. As much as I want to deny that having someone buy the work is validating, I can't. It is like some sort of weird unspoken encouragement to do more.

And let's face it... having it sit against a wall in my studio does no one any good.

Love, dressed for travel.

If there is one thing that I could master in my life before I die it is the ability to fold a fitted sheet.

You heard me...

and you know exactly what I am talking about.

This morning I had to keep from descending into a fit of rage due to a stupid sheet. At one point having one corner draped over my head like a hood in order to stretch it out to create the perfect fold I caught my reflection in the full length mirror and had to laugh, thankfully removing the mounting tension between myself and the unfortunate bedding. Any further and I might have torn it to shreds with my teeth.

So many things in life are like folding a fitted sheet.

1. It is always a challenge
2. It never works the same way twice
3. It can drive you a little crazy.
4. It can give you a huge sense of relief when it actually works.

And I have to admit that this particular monday morning the sheet probably represented more of life than just simple bedding. In every attempt to folding I was probably directing other frustrations and responsibilities at the task, at one point actually wadding it up into a ball thinking that I should just stuff it in a bag.

But I wouldn't be satisfied with that and...

life can not be stuffed into a bag.

I do think that the mundane tasks when piled upon pile can give one the impression that there is no end in sight, or like folding a fitted sheet, is just too damn hard. And sometimes I really struggle at just moving forward with the little things.

I like the big things.

And I am a great starter and a not-so-great finisher and right now the things that have been started far outweigh the things finished which makes me a little crazy...

because I also need closure...

which is why wadding up a fitted sheet just won't do.

And, for as much as the bravado of accomplishing the "bigger" things brings satisfaction, it is the culmination of all the little things that turn into the big things. It all adds up.

But I have a hard time celebrating the little things, and when they add up to bigger things I usually just chalk that up as par for the course not giving myself the due credit for the sum total. Instead I look toward all that is left to do, or what hasn't been done.

Do you do this? Do you forget to celebrate the things that you do, no matter how small? Do you forget that the culmination of the hour-by-hour, day-by-day, adds up to a life?

No pictures with this post. When we got to the gallery, my work was already on the floor being replaced by the next artist's work. So the tearing down consisted of mostly loading the car. This, I have to admit, was the not-so-fun part of the process. But the gallery director seemed pleased and mentioned something about next year.

And for me it prompts the question...

what's next?

After dropping off the paintings at home the rest of the day Bryan and I spent playing hooky from chores and responsibilities, choosing instead to brunch in Bethesda, and take in a late movie. By the end of the day I was feeling much better...

and able to consider the question.

What fun to see so many friends come out for some champagne and a peek at the whole collection on white walls. What an honor to see people consider the themes that came from my heart when I painted each piece. The thing that meant the most was seeing people "get it".

Saturday before the "show", Bryan, Mom, Marta and I ran a few errands and stopped at the Amish market for lunch. One thing about where we live is the variety of variety. While driving you may run into what looks like suburbia on one block, and the next block will be a horse in a pasture. The Amish market functions only wed-sat in an old strip mall. Usually bustling with people, it serves some really good food really cheap. Here I catch the girls with their mouths full.

These arrived from a supplier today. Mom and Sis set to work boxing them while I designed the back of the box of the set. What fun to see the whole series in this form.

The original inspiration for the piece, "Sisterhood of Believers". When you put the three of us together good luck getting any words in. Both nuggets of wisdom and riffs of foolishness swirl around as we share the deep things that make up the lives of women. Of course when you come to our table there will be good food and wine to accompany the conversation and this was no exception. Bryan grilled a yummy london broil and I made one of my gorgonzola salads. What better way to share an evening with the two women that inspire me most.

Ok, I can finally check this one off of my Mondo Beyondo list of what... two years ago ;-) Barring something happening between now and sunday things look like they are shaping up. I had cards made of the collection and some arrived yesterday and some will come today. There was a neat sense of satisfaction seeing seven of the collection printed in this tiny format for sharing. And best of all bests was the surprise arrival of my mother and sister from arizona. They walked in the door at 5ish and the talking and laughing didn't stop until we realized it was one in the morning. Bryan managed to navigate around us getting only a few words in edgewise (what a guy). As I type this they are still sleeping, still on west coast's clock. It should be a very special couple of days. I am considering the fact that it is an artist date-day. Maybe I will put a brush in my mother's hand and see what happens.

8:30 am, starbucks in hand, the element is jammed full of my paintings(this time), off to set up the upcoming show of Dancing in Thin Places. A gallery within the tapas restaurant, Ranazul, will be the home of my babies for the next month.

9:30 am,set up was easy, although I have to admit Bryan pounded all the nails and hung the work, while I pretty much just decided where they would go, and hung the title cards and artist statement.

10:30 am, back at home for some final details, namely printing a title sign for the show with my name in letters that seem all too large to me, but I concede to Bryan who seems to think it is necessary. I am great about promoting other people's work, but a big sign with my name on it is a little tough for me.

12:00, back at the gallery to hang the sign and have some lunch(they have a yummy menu). Chad, the gallery director, comments on the work, how well "designed the show is", and seems overall...pretty pleased. And, he likes the sign.;-)

So we stay and have a fabulous lunch and a scandalous bottle of spanish red wine with our lunch as I watch a few folk already meandering in and out of the gallery viewing my work.

What a weird feeling.

A waitress comments to me about the work and mentions her favorite. The collection has been hanging for just a few hours.

Very weird feeling.

But with the final sips of a fine spanish red, I am relishing a moment that is a bit of a surprise. The actual reception is not until the 20th and that will be another day to celebrate. It is great to see the work on white walls, in a space that people may view it, and maybe...

maybe...

they will be inspired.

In light of this show it was time to launch a proper artist site. Eventually it will have a functioning store option for the limited editions, but for now it gives a glimpse of the work in the show, and other stuff. Still, it is pretty cool. Thanks to Bryan for working his butt off to make it happen. Such a guy.
Check out my new art site here.

What do I have in common with...

med students,
web designers,
and trapeze artists?

a place called Blue House.

Today I was putting in my hours at this favorite free wi-fi cafe along with a very interesting cross section of baltimore's coffee drinkers. And I wasn't kidding about the trapeze artist... apparently there is a "trapeze school" somewhere in town... I couldn't help but overhear.

But the cross section is indicative of Mr. Florida's "creative class"... me included. As I look around I imagine what stories these people have, what they do for a living, and what are they working on right now.

Would they imagine the same of me?

I am working on stuff for the show while snacking on vegan chips and naked juice. I am finishing up all those details I mentioned yesterday, marveling that I can sit at a cafe and get work done. If this were ten years ago I would be scrambling to the printer, running around town, but now I can simply upload a file and have the materials I need delivered to my door in a couple of days. This is not only cost effective (can you say, gas prices?) but is great if you are a last minute type. Things that would take a few months to produce can be done in a week. I finished a portfolio book and am anxious to see how the printing turned out. Its wild.

It is also nice to get out of the house. I have realized again how much I need to do that on a regular basis. I have always loved working from home, but "home" can close in on you especially if you are constantly reminded of chores and projects that need tending at every turn. And the best perk coming up to Baltimore is lunch with Bryan.

So, today it is Blue House. Tomorrow, my house, that's the real circus.

Finally did it. New signed and numbered limited edition giclees of my thin place pieces. These four are framed in preparation for an upcoming show at Ranazul, a tapas restaurant with its own gallery. The next few days will be filled with pulling some last details together like title cards and artist statement, website, portfolio book, price list... ok, a lot of details. At any rate I am pleased that these things are finally going to get some wall time in a public space with white walls.

Today I was going to be a Bourbon Democrat, but unlike the name implies, being one doesn't mean you get to sit around and drink large quantities of bourbon and poke fun at the other parties.

bummer.

One of the more prominent Bourbon Democrats was born in Woodstock which gave me a glimmer of hope, but alas he was born before THE Woodstock, and so no correlation could be made.

No, a Bourbon Democrat was a "conservative liberal", who's convictions lay within capitalism, anti-protectionism (pro-free trade), and opposed imperialism (invading other countries). This segment of the Dems stood for limited government, fought for the gold standard and against government corruption.

Nothing about large quantities of strong drink. Although Woodrow Wilson was a Bourbon Democrat I doubt that he was an alcoholic. A graduate of Princeton, he created the League of Nations and won the Nobel peace prize, among other notable things.

And Grover Cleveland was a Bourbon Democrat too, but in contrast was a "conservative", had no college education but didn't do any favors for women's suffrage either, believing that women's roles had been determined by a higher power (sounds like bourbon talking there).

But what's in a name?

A term that would not have done ANY party any political favors if it had existed during prohibition, it was used from 1876 to 1904.

A branch broke off into a more, shall we say, "extremist" (southern) wing called the Redeemers, who opposed the Freedmen, Carpetbaggers, and Skalawags (a trio coalition of Radical Republicans...

(not to be confused with the Liberal Republicans...

or Moderate Republicans, like Lincoln the first republican-Republican president).

In a very complex Reconstruction era, Redeemers denounced high taxes and high state debts, cut government spending, lowered politicians' salaries; scaled back public aid to railroads and large corporations which all sounds pretty good except in a devastated post-civil war the money had to come from somewhere...

The FIRST income tax was implemented by Lincoln, along with printing money (yea, to pay for the war) but I digress....

oh yea, and they (the Redeemers) had, shall we say, a "conservative reaction" to Reconstruction, ...ahem.

So much for "redemption".

In the words of Inigo Montoya, "....that word. I do not think it means what you think it means."

So I guess I could be an "unredeemed" Bourbon Democrat. At least for one day. Except I'm a woman, so maybe not.

Cracks me up that a "Bourbon Democrat" was lumped in with "Redeemer". I mean really, if you were a conservative Christian voting in the bible belt, which one would you identify with, not to mention vote for if you went by name alone. And if you were a Christian woman... well you couldn't vote anyway.

I admit cherry-pickin through history sort of takes the names out of the context of the times. And of course as contemporary folk today with greater technologies, a zillion channels and networks that can communicate higher thought, more education, and higher sensibilities we don't take things out of context...

nah...

Don't you love the name Skalawag? Or Carpetbagger? You wouldn't see today's version of the Republican party putting those names on their signs to get elected.

Maybe tomorrow I will be a Skalawag. Sounds fun and sort of pirate-ish. Arhhh!

Invalid login. That is what I got this morning when I went to login to my blogging software. Yes it has been so long that I couldn't remember my password.

And the reasons for the lack of blog of late is because I have always written about what was at the forefront of my brain. The blog for me, has been a quasi-morning pages recommended as a brain dump by author Julie Cameron in her book, Artist's Way. In her world this tool designed for breaking writer's block, is never meant to be read by anyone, but is just a vehicle for clearing out the proverbial cobwebs of the mind to achieve a clearer state in which your art (writing or otherwise) becomes unfettered. And although I have used this tool a little differently, my "brain dump" being inflicted on whatever poor soul chooses to read, it still works the way Julie intended.

Herein lies the problem.

What has been at the forefront of my brain just about every morning of late is of the political nature.

And me thinks the world could use one less political rant.

However, what I am left with in the silence is the equivalent of mental constipation. The problem with Julie Cameron's ritual is that it really works and so left undone has made me less affective in other areas in my art. The thoughts that cycle through my brain these days look like pinballs bouncing recklessly against one another and would probably make for some volatile blog. But at some point spillage must insue in order for me to continue to be the sane lovely woman that I was instead of the woman that my husband is currently living with, not to mention quieting the conversations I currently have with myself in the shower.

Once a mildly concerned citizen who shunned the news most nights, I have now turned into a news junkie and all the reading I have been doing could win me some sort of junior amateur historian award.

or at the very least I could design a trivial pursuit game with political content.

Hey, that's an idea probably good money in that.

At any rate I am on a quest to learn some of the interesting details that brought this country to a two party system against the original will of the founding fathers. Especially since the system in its latest form looks to implode removing the will of the people through the evolution of political devices that have accumulated over the decades. Super-delegates, anyone?

And who completely understands the concept of the electoral college? I went to college and I don't quite get this "indirect element in the process of electing".... thank you wikipedia.

A host of things interest me at this point as I delve into the nature of the dozens of parties this country has had, and I have to say the "need to know" parallels the days of my initial interest in Jesus (some call conversion).

After all we do not inherit our faith.

So we can not, in good conscience, inherit our party.

I had never considered myself a party person and when I went to register I had to fill in the blank, another somewhat "indirect element in the process of electing". Although I think it is interesting that thousands of good folk are currently taking the time and making the effort to re-register their party affiliation, being forced to function in the two party system, they are jumping sides to have a voice in the primaries. Is it covert political strategy, or conviction. Quite a statement.

Looking at the history of the evolution of parties may not inform my vote because I really just look at the candidates, but it may help me understand why people align themselves in such passionate ways to the current parties. I am confounded by the concept of voting your party just because its your party. How many people truly know where "their party" came from? Then again there are a lot of Christians that don't have a clue about the reformation and that most of what they currently practice is thanks to that good Augustinian Monk, Martin Luther, giving us some pretty good reading (the bible) in 1534.

And claiming political affiliation, in a like fashion I would have a hard time calling myself a "protestant". The world seems to be at a new threshold of breaking out of some of these "denominations" both political and religious.

The spirit is larger than the containers that hold them.

And so it should be.

So in light of my new quandry, that being the need to blog, the need to be an informed citizen, and the need to have something to call myself regarding political affiliation when asked at parties...

I am a Know-Nothing.

Don't laugh, it was an actual party. And although I really (really, really) DON'T hold the convictions of this party, being that at that time(1850) in our country the huge fear from protestants was that Irish and German Catholics were going to take over the country, and were wholy anti-immigration (can you imagine, by 1850 already), I DO like their motto when pressed regarding their political activities,

"I know nothing".

So today I will be a Know Nothing.

Of course being just one of the many components that make up the fabric of this country's parties, the Know Nothings merged into what we now today call republicans.

I think tomorrow I will be a Bourbon Democrat.

When Bryan and I came back from the Bahamas we experienced culture shock. After being on a peaceful island where strangers become friends in a blink, everyone is happy, and life is rather uncomplicated it isn't any wonder that we would be hit by some of the negative aspects of our culture on our return.

Of course one of the first things that triggered it was a trip to a shopping mall.

Over consumption aside, there were other things that popped up to make us take note that this country has got to make some adjustments. I can be patriotic as the next person, but there are a few things that have happened in our culture and specifically this country that range from mildly disturbing to morally alarming.

For instance...

Last night I got an email from Daniel's college. A notice sent out to all of the parents of MICA students that there had been a "road rage" shooting on the MICA campus and two people were dead. Thankfully they were not students, but it still made my blood go cold. It happened at roughly six oclock the night before just minutes after Bryan was picking Daniel up to bring him home due to illness.

For the first time in my life I am thankful for the flu.

Right now Daniel is sleeping soundly in his bed, while I make chicken soup, pump him full of orange juice, and nurse him back to health. All the while being grateful that he is alive.

As a country we are not plagued by internal war, and yet we have things like the Virginia Tech shooting, Illinois, and Columbine. What is up with that? There seems to be an underlying virus in our culture that is making people insane, or at the very least, cold and heartless.

It seems systemic doesn't it?

Maybe it starts with rules and laws that were originally meant to protect us that ultimately are hurting us. Being free to be an "individual" has mutated into an unhealthy focus on self that somehow has eroded away the good things that we use to have.

Laws to help the innocent have become lawsuit opportunities.
Technology that is supposed to improve our lifestyle can remove the need to be civil and friendly.

In an average day a person can face numerous situations (motorist honking their horn, a rude teller, recorded phone messages) that by the end of the day can make you feel less than human.

Today I feel that way.

On a third try to obtain a last little piece of required paperwork for our Bahamas registration, I sat at my bank waiting my turn to see someone about a "letter of reference". On the second try after filling out a long menacing form they had issued me a cryptic note with my bank balance on it, and charged me ten dollars. I sent this off and got a reply from my rep in the Bahamas, that they didn't need numbers, just a letter that basically said I was a good customer at my bank.

Ok, seems reasonable. I HAVE been a customer for fifteen years...

So sitting down with a guy at my bank I explained that the letter they gave me was not quite what the bahamian gov't needed, something simpler...

No way. Not on your life. They don't do that.

"Surely this kind of letter is not a problem... I have been a customer for fifteen years..."

Apparently that would require an "opinion" which they legally can not do.

"OK, but this is what the bahamian gov't requires and people do this all the time so... what's up with that?"

The conversation didn't last long but the jist was "so sorry, it sucks to be you". And what I really had a problem with was the attitude in which it was delivered. The particular bank associate that I was dealing with seemed to relish the fact that he couldn't help me. Almost in a punishing way. In fact I got a sense that he didn't want to help me before I even opened my mouth. Anti-helpful.

Which brings me back to my original point(seemed like a rabbit trail didn't it?)

Have we lost the ability to be kind to one another? Has all the hoops that we have to jump through just to have the privilege to live what we call the american dream turned it into a nightmare that keeps us from being human?

Not blaming the associate for the restriction that was out of his hands, but royally pissed off at him for the condescending/almost cruel way he treated me, I left the bank on the verge of tears. Frustrated, hurt and really really mad, I walked over to the grocery store to pick up some groceries. Picking through the produce section and wondering what this world was coming to I filled my basket and headed to the checkout.

I got Virgil.

Virgil is a middle aged, african american man who has worked the checkout and bagged groceries there forever, and he always has something nice to say. Always, without exception. He took my groceries and started his totaling. Still feeling rattled but determined to recover from being pissed and not take it out on someone else I smiled and mustered a..." How are you today Virgil?"

His reply...

"Super-Fantastic! How are you today?"

"Better now".

He helped put my groceries in my backpack (because I was walking home) giving me the heaviest items first, the light items for me to carry in my hands. Then with a big smile he wished me a good day.

God bless the Virgils of the world.

Something bright for a winter's day.

We are well into Phase two of a process that has (at this point) seven phases. Phase one involved two and a half years of research for the right location, and then purchasing it. Phase two involves a. Research on eco-friendly technologies. b. Preliminary Design. c.Partnerships. d. Final Design. and e. Permitting.

We are in the middle of the preliminary design and partnership part of this phase. Tons of practical planning, and projection happening here.

What fun.

This weekend was spent creating some tangible visuals from the initial design for proposal purposes.(proposals for bahamas gov, partners, funding, etc.) It seems weird having to plan something in such a way. I have worked on business plans before(my own) but never something so long term, so large...

or so absolutely impossible.

Enough challenges exist if we were to do this in this country, but another country AND an island...

A good friend of mine has a term for such a thing... "Taking the hill".

Yea, were taking the hill, one phase at a time.

Designing the Mother Ship. Mother has in Her innards, the common area for dining, kitchen, a library, a gallery, studio work space, machine room(solar power), laundry, and our living quarters.

The Artist Habitats (now two story) have sleeping quarters and private studio space (300 sq '). We decided that adding another story was prudent for growth. Four habitats could be transformed into eight if necessary.

Phase three will involve breaking ground and construction of one artist habitat.

view from the dining room.

While out for coffee with my husband yesterday morning we decided to step into a favorite haunt, Home Goods. So far the weekend had been spent with our noses attached to our computer screens and although what we had been working on together was more detail to our exnihilo dream we needed a change of scenery. Typically in Home Goods Bryan and I gravitate toward different departments. He is lured by the gourmet section with all its kitchen gadgetry, and I usually head toward home accessories or bath stuff. At some point after a bit of wandering we cross each others path, usually empty handed.

But not today.

Rounding the corner of one of the overstuffed aisles, I look up to see Bryan with something in his hand. His face has a look of mischief as he lifts up the item for my consideration.

And this, boys and girls is why I love my husband so much.

In his hand is the word in big black wooden letters...

IMAGINE.

It is an unlikely piece of brick-a-brack, meant for a shelf or mantle. A cheap ornament that screamed out everything we were about at that moment in regards to our dream...

I could hear Dennis Hopper's voice in my head.

Without words, Bryan raised an eyebrow and I responded with, "Of course, are you kidding?"

So like two kids we plunked down 14.99 for this simple reminder in sculptural form. It is a thing like this that keeps the momentum of an impossible dream going.

It may seem silly.

But most dreams do.

proudly perched on our livingroom mantle...IMAGINE

Came back to this yesterday and worked on it some today as well for my artist date. I don't remember when I started it but it has been a while. And it is weird to look back at old blog posts for reference only to be reminded again how time has flown.

Most of the day was spent finishing up some forgotten tasks that had to be done, but I did get in about two hours of paint time. Unlike my impressionist pieces, the thin places take a long time.

held in the light

Daniel,

Twenty years ago today was one of the best days of my life.

You were born.

The pain of childbirth was shadowed by the overwhelming joy of helping you into the world. My proudest role has been making a place for you to be safe, healthy, and teaching you about your world. Watching you grow, learn, create and begin to make decisions for yourself has made me even more proud.

Now you're twenty!

No longer a teenager!

From reading to you every night when you were little, doing school projects, or the random paper mache for fun, although sometimes I miss those times we spent together I can't wait to see what is ahead for you. I know it is going to be great.

I am so proud of you.

Keep pursuing your art (in all its forms) and continue to stand by your convictions that make you the amazing person that you are. Some day you will be able to look back on your experiences with pride.

And today as you go about your busy schedule just remember how much I love you.

Happy 20th Birthday Son!

Mom

A few years ago I had an interesting conversation with a young man from Kenya. He sat at my dining table for probably two hours as we discussed spirituality and what it means to be a christian.

His name was Kevin.

Kevin's one unforgettable feature was his big beautiful smile. It was the kind of smile that you know runs deep and connects with the inner parts of a person's soul. It was the kind of smile that reflects a preserved innocence but with the tempering of life experiences and hardship that instilled character. It was the kind of smile that reflects joy.

The reason he was in my house may sound like a total disconnect.

He was measuring my windows.

Hired by Home Depot, he was the individual they sent out to measure windows and write up an estimate for window replacement. We were at the beginning of our remodeling process and this would be the first step to getting our "shack" into shape. But what was supposed to be a simple interaction of homeowner and contractor ended up being something I will never forget.

While he sat at my table filling out the appropriate forms I offered him something to drink and we began what ended up being a lengthy conversation. Raised and educated mostly in Kenya he spoke of some of the differences between his country and mine. We compared our experiences in our countries and where we thought the shortcomings were in each, and also the privileges. He spoke of the village in which he came from. As he talked, always with that wonderful smile, I was reminded at how much we were the same. He spoke of hope and possibility and how each person can make a difference. I remember being a little envious at his optimism, in contrast with my own cynicism. At that time I was collecting people to photograph for a sort of "faces of the world" collection, and I asked him if he wouldn't mind playing along. He agreed, promising to come back at a later date. Smiling.

As our conversation continued it shifted from faith to politics. He told me that his family was very excited about a particular person that was serving in washington, and their faith in this particular individual to be able to accomplish real change in his country as well as mine. Kevin told me that I should watch for him and very proudly said, "He is my cousin". Even though I admitted how unpolitical I was I promised to "watch for him", and asked him for his name.

Barack Obama.

The name sounded vaguely familiar.

I never followed up with Kevin to get his photo, I wish I had. That smile of his spoke volumes. But I did take his advice and watch for his cousin. And now, years later, so is the rest of the world. For the first time in many years I don't feel quite so cynical.

In fact I could even say there's hope.

This journey towards a dream has included some winding roads and cryptic messages-puzzles that have had to be solved in order to move onto the next level like some not-so-virtual video game. Thanks to a new found contact gained through Deltec... another dear soul who is building on our very island, I was given an answer to a question that not even my attorney in the bahamas could answer. Like passing secret code via email, my new partner in crime, a pediatric surgeon from michigan, fed me valuable information that he had obtained along his own dream journey. I, willing to receive such nuggets of info like they were some sort of insider secret felt like I had won the mother load, or at the very least the golden key that unlocks the tower to save the princess. Today's particular piece of the puzzle...

How to obtain a police record.

Or more correctly in my case, how to obtain a police record if you don't have a police record.

I know, it confused my too. Welcome to my not-so-virtual world.

Among the many hoops that must be jumped through (some of them flaming) in order to continue the ongoing process of creating our bahamas retreat is a list of documents needed by those good people that run the government of the bahamas. They want to make sure you are good people too so they require a document that says so...

sounds reasonable.

But again... If you have never committed a crime...

So, thanks to my fellow journeyman in michigan who gave me the necessary hints to obtain the magic mushroom...

I found myself being fingerprinted.

This friendly trip to the state police office where every wednesday from 9-11 they print all those good folk looking to obtain their records would hopefully get me to the next level. After entering the precinct and signing in, taking a number and a seat I tried not to feel nervous.

After all it's not like going to a police station makes you a criminal.

After denying my more impish self to lean over to the person seated across from me and whisper,

"What are you in for?"

I instead surveyed the room while pondering the people who, like me, waited for their numbers to be called.

The room was filled with dreams.

Faces from many nationalities sat waiting to accomplish the next step in immigration that would allow them to live in this country. I could only imagine the gauntlet that many of these people had already been through.

Faces of hopeful, would-be parents, seeking the next piece of the puzzle to allow them to adopt a child.

Faces of those climbing the ladder of their careers, government workers needing a simple piece of paper to add another rung.

There was a face of a idealistic young man on his way to teach english in Korea.

And me.

All of us in our various real-life video games in pursuit of something, ironically, some in opposite directions, but all looking for that next piece to help get us there. What was at first a scary room full of strangers became a place where we shared something in common, a place of intersecting at this particular point in the game.

I found myself hoping for the best for each one of them, silently cheering them on.

After all, we really all want the same thing.

"Number 46!"

My turn. I entered through a door guarded by a white haired gentleman who had been kindly giving out instructions on filling out the right forms, being patient with the non-english, and informative to those like me, interjecting humor all the while...

bless him.

Passing him and going through the door to the printing room, which was more like a hallway, I was greeted by another elderly man, short and chatty instructing me on how to ink my fingers. The surreal nature of the paradox of having him place my blackened thumb on the paper while asking me where I went to school made my knees a little weak. I cheerfully made small talk while he finished my fingers, feeling a little awkward like I might say the wrong thing and thus trigger hidden sirens and flashing red lights.

Then he was politely folding my card and giving me instructions of what to do with it, where to mail it...

"You're all set".

Leaving the precinct with card in hand I send up one more prayer for all those fellow travelers still waiting to be called. blessings on your journey.

On to the next level.

Bryan and I had fun this weekend playing with our little dream. Using the round-house model as our guide we started to work up a design.

But we each took a slightly different approach in our method. And if you know us well you would laugh while simultaneously shaking your head.

My approach was with pencil and paper. What emerged was something that will look interestingly like an octopus from a passing airplane. Wanting each cabana to have a view of the water and wanting to create privacy without distance this is what emerged. Like in our home the objective is to have visual focal points everywhere to create a sense of well-being and to inspire. The cabanas are 300 square feet with a loft (and potentially a kitchenette) all connecting via boardwalks to a 2 story "mother ship" that will function as a gathering place for dinner, house studio space(with ocean views) and the gallery, as well as our living quarters. This only uses up the front half of the property. If it wasn't for the fact that we are required to have the buildings connected(we are using trellises for that) I would probably plunk them down all around the property as long as we could achieve an ocean view with each. What isn't shown yet is the outdoor ceramics courtyard.

Bryan put a more techie spin on his. Taking the weekend to learn "sketchup" he mocked up our little cabana cabins and plunked them right on the property using Google Earth.(yes, Bryan can do anything) It will be really cool to see the larger building done this way as it is much more complex. This will be a great tool to help see what we think might work by doing a virtual walk through.

Now if we can just find some investors or grant money to get the thing off the ground. Any body want to lend us half a million dollars?;-)

I promised myself that I wouldn't let this slide. It is a tough thing to do this setting-aside-time business. Just watching the news this morning in all its frenzy might make me shun this sacred time due to "more important things", and yet the contrast of the last few months of 07 with just ten days on the island and I am reminded of the importance of this ritual.

Last week's friday I managed to paint. First time in months and the painting is really really crappy.

But I love it.

Because it is drenched with my desire to go, and stay in that place that those scrappy brush strokes depicts. And the exercise was good, even as a reminder of the importance of honoring a soul feeding ritual. Even if the painting is bad, it felt good to be back.

Last night I felt the anticipation... looking forward to a day set aside. Maybe that is the key. Knowing that there is something to look forward too instead of everyday stretching into the next which can lead you to dread instead.

So today I will ignore the shirts that need to be ironed and the other chores that would be so responsible to do(and boy it is hard to do that)...

and I will feed the well.

really bad impressionistic painting of our beach.

While chilling on our couch last night on comes the Daily Show (ok they are calling it "A" daily show because of the strike) and low and behold who is Jon's guest but...

Jim Wallis.

So I snapped these pictures of our tv. Probably not legal to put them here on my blog, but whatever. It felt kinda weird seeing him on tv when he had sat in my dining room for his photo shoot.

And now his book is out. The Great Awakening; Reviving Faith & Politics in a Post-Religious Right America.

So check it out. I can't wait to see how the picture I took turned out. Too bad amazon isn't showing the back cover yet.

A little over a week back from the island and we jump in the car for a little road trip.

To North Carolina.

A little research on what to build (and how to build) on our site pointed the cosmic arrow in this direction.

Three things converged.

One prefab developer that has outrageous success rates for homes surviving hurricane climates.

Another that has that going for it, plus its green building practices.

And finally, the architect that I had contacted months ago.

All in the same general area.

So, me wanting to let no moss grow under my feet (at least for now when I can still feel some momentum from our trip) I contacted all three for meetings and in the case of the prefabs, tours of the factories.

Although I had a great phone conversation with the intern at Frank Harmon's office, with the promise of an email with all their pricing info, and being left with the hope of potentially meeting Frank on Monday ("I'll check and let you know", she said very positively), I got neither. And no reply even after I sent another email reminding her that we were driving seven hours (ok I didn't say that, but I did make it clear where we were coming from...do the math).

Oh well, two out of three isn't bad.

Now that the modern/all green/super cool/prefab building is all the rage (or back in with better design) I have been looking at this option for our building. The problem is that now that it is so in vogue, what once was an economical way to go is now costing just as much as a custom built home.

So much for the prefab/everyone should be able to afford a home revolution.

But there were a couple of companies that have been doing the passive solar thing before it was cool. In fact one of them started in the sixties. And since then they have fine tuned their process and perfected their product. And one of them seemed to not hike the price in the process.

So sunday Bryan and I threw a bag in the car and drove to North Carolina. A lovely night in eclectic Asheville with the promise of more info the next day.

Monday morning we met with a kind rep from Deltec, Dave. Sweet and chatty, he showed us around the factory explaining all the benefits of his product.

But really, seeing is believing, and that is why we went there.

When first encountering this as an option I was not excited about the dated look of a round house. In fact I had almost expected to hate it in person, and then at least we could check that option off the list and move on.

So much for that.

The advantages started to stack up as we got more and more info.

• They are hurricane resistant and built to code as standard. It is just what they do.
• Once your foundation is poured, the shell goes up in a few days with a crew of six.
• Having shipped all over the world, the product is built for a shipping container. Shipping paths are in place.
• They have built on Long Island.
• We could erect a shell and then do all the finish work ourselves.
• Because of their special truss system they have no load bearing walls which allows for some really creative options with designing the interior.
• Several round structures might just lend itself well to the vibe of an artist retreat.

Some of the challenges we are facing with building in the bahamas include not being able to oversee the progress. If we were to build a conventional structure we run the risk of things taking a very long time, costing more than expected, laws changing, or any number of things that can spin out of control. That is why this option has some appeal.

The disadvantage in my mind is the perception of this kind of "kit home" for the purpose of resale. The thing is we are not just building a home, but more of a compound. So I may be trying to accomplish one thing while considering another. The people that bought the lots down the beach from us (one doctor, one lawyer) will probably be building big contemporary custom homes, or the traditional bahamian style. It's a guess. What will our artist colony seem like?

Ok, I am regressing into random thoughts. But, reality is that we are not rich folk with cash to burn. We need to get creative, do a lot of work ourselves, so our options may be unconventional.

is that so bad?

little model of a deltec prefab structure

This is what it looks like when the three of us are all at home.

It was a wonderful break, but all good things....

well you know.

Daniel goes back to MICA. Classes start after the long weekend. Between the Christmas holiday and our time on the island, I think we are all rested and ready to tackle the new year. It was good to be together in this new stage of life. Navigating the nuances of being parents of an adult, wanting to act like teenagers ourselves and attempting to remain respectable parent figures in Daniel's presence was interesting. Interesting too was Daniel attempting to be "the good son" while exercising his individuality in the presence of adult/peers simultaneously with parents present. This became interesting when we were socializing on the island with other people staying at Pierre's. I guess the time has finally come...

it was bound to happen eventually...

it is uncool to travel with your parents.

But I guess as families go we handled it pretty well. Attempting to make space for each other when there was no space was tricky. It was impossible to avoid social overlap which created some tension when either Bryan and I said something that sounded parental. As much as I tried to be conscience of it I know I let things slip.

And even a compliment generated out of pride can sound wrong or condescending when spoken by a mother.

It can be embarrassing.

I know. Not until much later in life does one covet those compliments regardless of who is in the room.

Anyway... the stages of life and relationships are fun.

All in all the month long break was a good time.

Weather today:

Snow...then rain...

which makes slush.

Last night to enjoy Pierre's wonderful cooking. Our heads are straddling island life and thoughts of work back home. Travel day tomorrow which we are not looking forward to, but most of all...

we just hate to leave.

More confirmation that this is the right place for Exnihilo. It is one thing to go to a place and come home with big dreams returning to find that it wasn't quite what you had remembered. It is a gift when you actually go back and are reminded of all the reasons that the place is perfect. I have to admit that before coming back I had my fears. Questions and doubts are often encouraged by the distancing of time...

i won't let that happen again.

Because of a new little piece of info that we have to legally build in six months (we thought the start date was when you get title, but it is actually when you sign contract) we will be back in order to get things going. I don't know how, or what that is going to look like, but a trip is in our future this time in june.

So there will be no dulling of memory or questioning of a dream.

One way or another it is full steam ahead.

Oramae on our last night.

Doesn't it look like the sand is beginning to return?

Here we marked the tree that "establishes" Exnihilo. Assuming the sharpie doesn't rinse off in the rain this will help us find our nursery when we come back.

Although we face the east with the sunsetting behind us, taking in the view we marveled at how beautiful it was. It was good to just sit there and imagine the next few years of the process in light of what there is to be gained. The idea that someday we could look up at this sky everynight was new motivation for me. I had realized early on that we needed to come back just to remind ourselves of the dream, but until now I hadn't known the degree of importance of it.

This place feeds our soul.

We watched breathless as multiple rainbows filled the sky. A couple of crabs scattered across "our rocks".

I was struck with the fact that what would become our home was actually a "thin place".

Garnering strength and encouragement from this trip will help propel me through the next steps which will be challenging. Right before we left I was chiding myself with how frivolis this trip seemed to be all the while instinctively knowing that it was still necessary.

Now I knew why.

It is easy to have a dream.

It is much harder to sustain it.

Like anything, the start of something is the easy part... the process in the middle is probably the hardest...

at least for me.

Even when you are nearing the end of something you have the momentum of the finish line to pull you.

So the middle can "get stalled".*

This visit was important. Not logical, or seemingly practical...

but completely necessary.

Next trip we will have make a point to see the sunrise.

"stalled" is a term that the bahamians use when you have eaten too much and you can't finish your plate. ;-)

After lunch at Max's Grill we drop Jimmy at his office and then head back south toward the property. We still have to meet the shipping people and hopefully find some coconuts to plant. I am feeling a strong sense of ritual about planting a coconut palm. So much so that while in a small market to buy a soda, I picked up a Sharpie to write with. We may not be breaking ground this trip, or finalizing design plans (all things I had hoped for) so we needed to do something to "mark" this trip. Much had been accomplished in meeting new friends and I felt that we needed something to remember that.

coconuts.

So all along Queen's highway(the single road that slices the island in half) I kept watching for coconut palms that

1. didn't seem to be on someone's property and
2. had dropped some of their fruit.

We had made it all the way down to Deadman's Cay where we were told we would meet the shipper. This is the man who get's your container from Miami, or Nassau, to Long Island, and then trucked to your property. He is also a customs agent. Very important to make contact with, and as before with so many things, face to face connections with people here are so important.

In the office we meet Marsha. I am not sure if she is wife or secretary or both but she greets us warmly and yells for "Mr. Carroll". He is outside working on a forklift. So we walk out and he greets us. We talk of island things, ask him some questions and let him know that we will be needing his services. back in the office we go to leave and Marsha gives me a big hug.

Yea...I know. You don't believe me. That is because it is pretty unbelievable that a person that was a complete stranger ten minutes before can accept you and welcome you in such a way just doesn't exist in back home.

But that is the way it is here. In fact if you ask an expat that is living here now you will get the same answer to the question, "why here"...

its the people.

Down the road still looking for coconuts as we drive we check the potter's house (still not home) and step into a market for a bottle of wine as a thank you gift for Pierre. Having fulfilled most of our errands we head toward the property to plant Joyce's seedlings and seeds, but we are still without those elusive coconuts.

I really want some coconuts.

As we get nearer to the property we drive by a little restaurant called "The Forest" (which I think is kind of funny for an island). We had eaten here once and now we spotted the owner just outside the left of the building. The front of his building there is a row of coconut palms... with

you guessed it.

a coconut laying on the ground.

So we park, get out of the car and approach him with a greeting. He is filleting three big snappers with a huge machete-like knife. As we greet him he turns with the menacing knife in his hand, big smile and greets us back. His name is Dudley (The contrast of his smile, friendly nature and the big knife almost makes me laugh). We mention the we have a place up the road and so we will be neighbors (sort of) and by the way, do you mind if we take one of your coconuts.

"Oh, no problem Mon. Help yourself...there is more over there behind that wall." And then he goes further by explaining the best way to plant them..."You have to put them face down", swinging the menacing knife the whole time.

Thankfully he shows us which end of the coconut is its "face". More island knowledge.

We thank him...say goodbye, and go check out over the wall...

a pile of coconuts.

So we take what we can carry and put them in the back seat along with the other palm seedlings and the christmas palm seeds.

At the property we look for a spot that would make a suitable nursery for the baby trees. We simply want them to grow while we are gone to get a head start but to be moved later when the real landscaping happens.

We find a spot, and I pull out the Sharpie.

Exnihilo
Genesis 1:1

Honestly neither Bryan and I could think of a verse that was befitting or profound... so why not start at the beginning. And of course "Exnihilo" means "out of nothing".

So after "establishing Exnihilo" by the ritual planting of our "Exnihilo coconut", Bryan suggests we go sit on our beach (ok rocks) and watch the sunset.

Lovely idea.

Dudley filleting the snapper.

planting seedlings.

planting coconuts.

Exnihilo coconut.

In total disbelief that this is our last day we still have stuff to do. Jimmy, our real estate agent has offered to go out to our property with us and make recommendations as to how far back to build, and to allow himself another round of us bombarding him with questions. So we are meeting him at 11:00. We had hoped to meet with the people that have the shipping company too. Maybe even step into a bank and also see if the potter that lives on the island is home (we have tried to see him on every visit and keep missing him).

Lots to do.

In our previous meeting with Jimmy and Turnquest, Jimmy had recommended getting a couple of coconut palms to plant, so I was wanting to take a walk after breakfast in search of coconuts. At breakfast we were trying hard not to think about the fact that we were leaving tomorrow.

Walking up the beach from Pierre's we turn left into mr Miller's property (he has some coconut palms doesn't he?). The goats are here again and there are two more new kids since a few days ago. We walk past the herd and down the road.

Half an hour and we still haven't seen a coconut. Funny, when you don't need them you see them everywhere.

We walk back to Pierre's to get the car... Soon we have to meet up with Jimmy.

Once we collect Jimmy at his office we are off for the long drive to our property. Long drive here is the other side of the island which from Jimmy's office takes about forty five minutes. To drive the whole island from top to bottom would probably take an hour and a half. Amazingly some folk who live in the north have never been to the south and visa versa. "Its too far", we heard.

Different world.

so in the car with Jimmy we start talking island stuff and then conversation shifts to spiritual matters. We had heard that he was a pastor and so we asked the question...

Yup... instated a year ago...senior pastor of a church near the center of the island with a thriving youth program. He explains that there is a slight divisiveness between the north and the south, and so by reaching the youth on both sides their goal is to keep the island unified.

Cool.

More conversation about our journey with the church and what we used to do...Jimmy seems excited about this...

Hmmm...

I have to admit there was a synergy in the car as we talked about "God stuff". He made it clear that when we came back we had an open invitation for a place to stay with the possibility of us checking out their ministry.

Once at the property even Jimmy is a little surprised at the degree of "beach loss", but like a dozen people at this point reinforce the "it will come back". We walk along the edge of the property (the brush is too thick to walk through) and we note the high water mark, and estimate the place where we should build. A giant agave plant will make a fine marker.

We then hop in the car and drive down to our neighbor's on the south. No one is home but Jimmy says that he knows them and they wouldn't mind us looking at their property and what they built. At this point we were still trying to put to rest what material to build with. The Baker's place is wood construction.

It was really helpful to stand on their deck, looking toward the ocean and getting a sense of what our building might be like. Because there is so much more wind on this side this was a concern. Standing there proved that the wind would not be such a problem. One more piece to add to the pu