Pink Coyote

Winners + New Work

While I was pilfering purloining* old candy from the Halloween bag, ("I think it's time to throw this thing out while everyone is at the park...oooooh-Crunch bar!"), I used random.org to pick two winners for the prints!

CROW goes to Heather of Bumblebird

OWL is for Gem of Droplets of Devotion

Send me an email with your shipping address so I can send you your goods, m'dames!

Thank you all for playing! I will be doing a card giveaway this week, so come back and play again and try your luck at the wheel of fortune.

It's been a long weekend of parenting and cleaning up around here, leaving me low on resources. The too much information version includes me drinking a bit of Guinness to replenish my milk supply, after using a homeopathic remedy for a sore throat that left me all dried up! I have had to resurrect this milk from the dead twice now! The good news is that no caffeine + fenugreek + plenty of B vitamins + beer = abundant milk for the baby goddess. At eight months, she still won't take a bottle, so I do the straw trick or give her fluids with a dropper, slip raw milk into her porridge...shenanigans, basically. She did show some promise on the Nuby sippy cup today (Thank you Julia). I'm taking a workshop here on Friday to learn more about healthy prep of food beyond pureed mush. Three years of solids for Miles, and one memory gone missing means I'm reinventing the food wheel here!

It's all good. Deep breath.

I'm elated to have had a clock rotation or two to work in the studio and begin a new series I've been anxious to get started on.  This piece is the first to be finished. 

 

Pink Fox, 6x6 on cradled birch board, 2009.

I tried to talk (and paint) her into any color but pink and she wouldn't hear it. Something she said about the heart...

Fox is so prominent for me right now. I feel she represents what is growing in my world, in our world. She brings enchanting stories of possibility with her, of the healing energy that makes giant creative leaps possible. In our tribe, Fox is a symbol of family, and the unity and commitment we share as a group. This little one carries a message of what we can experience when we gather together in sacred trust and kinship. I sense that she is off into the woods to have a secret tryst with her comrades, to share stories and learn about herself and the world by communing with her friends.

Prints are in the shop and the original is going to hang around a bit until I feel I've heard all she has to say. I feel a postcard in the making, too.

Aho! This is my offering to you! Be well this chilly week...

*p.s. I want to thank Amy Dolich for expanding my vocabulary.

Friday Share

This {sweet creature share} has been brought to you by Wendy Cook, of MotherRising!

Monday, September 18, 2006
Self Portait With Elephant
"Ask for what you want, and be prepared to get it." - Maya Angelou

I had a childhood dream to do a self portrait with an elephant (I just 
adore elephants) and after a previous encounter with an elephant named 
Siri at the local zoo, I decided to "ask for what I want". I'm not 
religious, I don't pray to God. I "communicate with life", as the 
character Maude, in one of my favorite films (Harold & Maude) said. I 
emailed the director of the zoo, and after our phone conversation he 
agreed to grant me my wish. I knew I would need an assistant because 
once I set up the camera and framed the shot, I wouldn't be able to 
push the button. I asked a friend if she would be my "button pusher" 
and she agreed to do it. (Then my husband took Satch and me to a 
little mexican joint for a celebratory dinner...cheese 
enchiladas...Satch loves 'em!)

And THIS is what I plan to teach my son: If you have a dream, a 
vision, a wish, an idea...try to make it happen. Never be afraid to 
ask for what you want.

Saturday morning we drove up the service entrance of the zoo and 
walked to the elephant barn. It was quiet and we could smell the scent 
of animals as we approached the barn. Once inside, we saw Siri and I 
was amazed by how much larger she appeared indoors than outdoors. 
Walls and a ceiling give a different perspective. Mick and John, her 
handlers, greeted us and took us to the yard. It was overcast, but I 
took a quick look at the sky to make sure that the sun would be behind 
the camera and set up the equipment while John went to get Siri. A few 
moments later, they appeared. She was magnificent with wise, amber 
eyes. With Siri in the view finder, I adjusted the tripod, set the 
camera, and framed out the shot. I let her sniff me before I 
approached her. Then I wrapped my arm around her leg and stroked her, 
leaning my body against hers. She leaned back...an elephant hug. It 
reminded me very much of how a dog leans into you when you're petting 
it. Her skin was both rough and soft like velveteen tree bark. I could 
smell her breath, hot and sour like wet hay on a summer day....her 
skin, earthy, musky, mammalian. She was gracious and patient while the 
photos were taken and we thanked her for both the photos and the 
wondrous experience. We thanked the handlers too and after John 
brought Siri back to the barn, I asked him a few questions about her. 
I learned that we have a few things in common:

Siri: 39 years old (but believed to be in her early 40's based on her 
characteristics);9,600 lbs; vegetarian; likes jelly beans; She is an 
artist. (Is it any wonder that I was drawn to her?)

Wendy: 42 years old (but believed to be an old soul); 110 lbs; 
vegetarian; likes Jelly Bellies; Also an artist.

We walked back to the car still absorbing our magical experience with 
the scent of the wild on our skin and our clothes.

Namaste, Siri...from one who loves elephants.

"They are incorrigible tons of strength and harmony. Their hide is 
ancient, their eyes sweet, they roll in dust to cool off, they make 
their own showers. They know how to frolic out under the sun. They're 
learners. They do not forget, and they don't hold grudges." -Bradford 
Morrow (A Bestiary)

It's Only For Now

Thank you all for your comments about Blue and our loss yesterday. Such heartfelt messages have kept us warm through the night. Bless!

It's odd how this whole thing has hit me. I hadn't known what to expect when Blue was diagnosed and I had almost two months to prepare for her leaving us. The oncologist gave her one to four months, the day after we returned from Squam. Time is so deceitful when you're waiting for your loved one to die. What is a month? A tiny blip on the screen.

I've felt guilty some. When I look at the many photos of her I've snapped in the past few weeks, but especially those from yesterday, I try to read her face to see what she may have been saying that I didn't catch. She stares back at me, laughing in some of them, pained in others. How could she be so full of grace and dealing with the unholy takeover of her body at the same time?

Tonite, during snuggle, Miles told me he was ready for her to come back and sobbed and said that she was never coming back. I'm thankful he can discern his feelings. We talked about where or what she might be, as he's always had this spirity way of asserting his ideas of reincarnation, something we've never discussed with him. He thought she might be in another galaxy, a scrub jay, a rainbow, a falling leaf, kissing gophers. As he mentioned these possibilities, his mood seemed to lighten. Mine did, too.

When I asked him about where he got the notion that when beings cross over they come back as something else, he said, "This is what I know". It is EXACTLY what he said when I asked him the same question about a year ago. And what I find peculiar is that he seldom repeats himself verbatim. There's always a fresh twist. Except with this.

 

It's Only For Now You Know, Hidden Eloise.

Vegging out on Etsy tonite (my kind of painkiller), I came across this item from my favorites and stuck it right in my cart. I love Hidden Eloise and have bought from her before. She's a delightful little spirit and I love the emotion of the characters in her paintings. I also bought one from Amy Blackwell, who's work I can't get enough of. I'll share it when it comes in. 

November is an easy month to be grateful in. The heart seems to settle in contently for a short time just before the Christmas rush, doesn't it?

I'm so grateful for the way Blue loved me. I'm so grateful to know that I am not alone.

Sweet Dreams, Friend

Oh, Blue. Today was truly the hardest day I've ever lived. Deciding to allow you to return to the earth felt like the right thing to do, and then you'd smile that famous smile and breathe that hot breath and I would spin right back into the questions. Because of your type of cancer, we couldn't let you decide on your own. It would have been extremely confusing and painful for you.

I'm so sorry if you felt any confusion tonite at all. Lying under the sycamore tree with you and smelling your coat, I wanted to stop the world from going around just to make that moment last forever. And ever. And ever.

Your ceremony was lovely, the smell of sweetgrass lingering around us. Miles rubbed his hands in lavender and then petted you for a long time. I put a seashell in your travelling bundle, to remind you of the fun we've had at Rincon Beach and to encourage you to find water to cool you on your journey. Dad read Old Coyote, and it was helpful in the moments to follow for us to know that you were dreaming yourself into a whole new world.

In the garden, the doctor gave you the strong medicine we talked about. You crossed over, and our living room lights mysteriously came on in the house. I could feel that your spirit had left your body. I imagined you chasing a gray squirrel up a tall pine tree, running along trail with your dainty paws, and lying down in a creek somewhere, look of euphoria on your soft, dark grey lips. I could have kissed you for hours.

I'm so grateful for how protective you were of the cradle when Miles was born. You were so patient with all children and other dogs. You never had to growl or bite anyone to let them know you were queen. Ever the confident goddess, you've taught me so much.

We miss you deeply. I've already walked by your bed several times and it seems disorienting that you aren't in it. I'm lonesome for your hugs, your breath, your friendship. I'm so grateful we got to spend ten years together.

Thank you for your loyalty and love, beautiful creature. You will be in my heart forever.

Love, Mama

Rare

Photo courtesy of Bill Roth.

Some believe that when white animals, like the moose pictured above, are born, they signify the coming of a time of unity.  What exactly is expected for the future cannot be known, but doesn't it seem as if new, meaningful communities are being born with more frequency?

I feel a great pull to gather in groups of safe people to share ideas, art and stories, to learn, and to teach. It feels like an intuitive decision, one which requires little logical thought. This explains why I jump at every chance I get to circle with those I adore: believing that we are all gifted is much more important than believing that only a few are gifted. Gathering is a reminder that we are not alone as we find our way through the thickets.

I am fortunate to know a woman who is bringing artists closer together because she feels a strong calling to do so. She does it with such grace and humor and she's loved by everyone who comes to her *camp*.

I've spent a couple of weeks trying to find words to say thank you to her. And I can feel tears fogging over my eyes and lumps forming in my chest when I think about how grateful I am to have met her. Maybe it's because she gives from such an authentic place within her, or because she understands deeply, even though she makes no claims to have walked the exact path. Or perhaps it's her ability to gently hold the dreams of so many in her vision.

Maybe it also has something to do with the fact that she helped me achieve what seemed like an impossible feat at first, without one single word of caution or projected worry about bringing my family to SAW. She believed in me one hundred percent and cheered my family on wholeheartedly as we journeyed east to join in on the fun. The woman is fearless. Brazen, bold, and fearless.

Such an individual is simply....rare.

My heart is full of gratitude for YOU, dear Elizabeth. Thank you for answering the call so that we, as individuals and as a collective, might be able to hear the whisperings of our own hearts, as well...

THANK YOU.

Squam Beans

Today I feel no less fragmented about our family adventure at Squam. I know that, overall, it was a very positive excursion, the nudging of some of my comfort levels notwithstanding. I have pages of notes to share for anyone thinking of doing this with their children and I'm hoping to get it here while it's all fresh in my bean.

On the subject of beans, one of the highlights of my trip by far, was to meet with Nina and two of the beanies on my birthday the Wednesday of check in. We watched our boys dine on pancakes that flopped over plates and fed our big baby girls together while laughing and wrestling little ones, maneuvering our way through breakfast.

We walked around in Nahcotta to peruse some familiar peeps' work in the much loved Enormous Tiny Art Show, and she turned to me at one point and said, "Can I just stop right here and tell you how cool it is that we can come in here and look at art with our three year olds?" And it was cool. It was very cool.

As you can see, The Friendly Toast in Portsmouth is vintage diner-dreamy. I wanted to steal the bark cloth tiki fabric around the sink in the funky bathroom. We make a point to stay at least one night in Portsmouth each time we head to Squam Art Workshops because it is such a cool little piratey art town.

I'm crashing from the trip, sadly. I'm not ready to rise and shine and go off to preschool, drop Blue at the groomers (just because she has cancer doesn't mean she can't look like a goddess!), make polite conversation, drop dead in one hundred and two degree heat in a town with only about ten trees. I've been in a bit of a shadow all day, promising to do things like make a longer trip of it next year and to take more pictures and sit on the docks just a little longer....

What I gave and received there was enough. Truly, it was. But I could still just top up a bit and love that, too.

Countdown

In 41 hours we'll be landing in Boston bound for Portsmouth, NH to linger for the morning with friends and friendliness before heading to Squam Lake for 5 days of creative goddess hedonism!

I'm up, secretly blogging while everyone else sleeps. This is not to say that I'm not practicing self-care, though I'd best be hitting hay soon. I've been taking care of myself this week by asking for help-with Blue, with children, with food, when I need to talk to a good friend who knows just what to say, with washing machines that won't spin. I've been opening, stretching..opening a little more and receiving. So hard for some of us to do! But so worth it to realize that those around me genuinely want to help...ME.

Thank you all for your kind words about Blue. Today was a good day, one of treats and frolicking on the lawn with her buddies and roaming around the inside of the house, sniffing the stove and begging. Knowing we have limited time with her has brought up so much conversation around here...life is short. This we all know. And yet something shifts unexpectedly each time it happens, does it not? Something so simple like a lifecycle can have deep and jarring impacts each. different. time.

I'm so grateful for my life, for my time here. And for YOU.

Sweet Things

"Sweets grown common lose their dear delight."      --William Shakespeare

Miles and Emma, sweets for a day.

Wishing you fresh sweets to delight in this gorgeous September weekend....

I Wish I'd Just Gone Fishing

But instead, I got the flu, which explains why I haven't been around lately. We had a yard sale on Saturday and I might have picked up cooties from someone- because by nightfall, I was sacked. Sunday night proved even more dramatic. I suppose I've been wide open for this to happen. I am glad it's occuring now and not next week.

Here is my lesson of taking care of myself coming up again, loud and clear. I have no choice but to sleep as much as possible, and drink nauseating quantities of tea, water and vitamin water.

Poor Ivy and Miles have the sniffles and sneezes, and I'm not producing much milk for Ivy at all. Besides Milk Thistle tea, I haven't tried anything else. I welcome any suggestions you have to remedy that. I have a terrible fear that my milk supply will dry up completely!

More letting go: letting go of the things that didn't make it in into the Squam box, letting go of laundry, letting go of my hope to record a few videos this week, letting go that there is no picture accompanying this entry.

Jen Louden announced National Freedom from Self Improvement Day at her blog and it couldn't have been more timely. Nothing is improving here but my chances of caring less about what isn't getting done!

*teacup clink*

Tangled Up

Dear Blue,

It's no secret that I'm a "dog person". But even I'm finding it curious that I chose this photo of you for my very first blog post ever.

While you weren't exactly my first lesson in grrrlpower, you've been showing me how to claim my machisma since you joined our family in April of 2000. What a mess you were! Do you remember that your entire left side was shirred off from the car that clipped you and landed you in the pokey-the south central Los Angeles dog pound? You charmed the pants off of the good peeps who worked there into nursing you back to health and giving you a little extra time to live, didn't you? At least that's what the letter says. The woman who busted you outta that joint was not on the market for a voluptuous 50 pounder! And that's where we came in. She later wrote us a letter to tell us that she knew you were meant to be with us when we met at the park. I am holding that letter now.

I remember telling Brandon and Hank that I thought you were really pretty that night at the Silver Lake Dog Park. I wanted to go and flirt with the cute Blue Merle Ozzie and the guys weren't that into it. I talked them into going over for some small talk and after a time, your person admitted that she'd only had you for a day or so and was looking for a home for you. We practically grabbed your leash and ran away with you! She wanted to size us up so she brought you to us the next day and determined that we would make good parents for you.

You cried all night and the next, then crapped on our futon. You tried to herd our cats and sent them scurrying to high places. You shot out the door and took off running through traffic because all you'd known before were the streets. We weren't sure it was going to work out, were we?

When things settled down a bit, you taught Hank how to stop taking life so seriously. And for that, we're so grateful, because frankly, he was becoming a major bore with all of that obsessive fetching. You brought perfect order to the food bowl area by legislating rations for each pet, and when Willow came along, she also had to learn the Rule of Blue: Never a bite, but a little snarl kept everyone in check.

You have smiled your giant smile every day I've known you, even when that rattlesnake bit you on the nose at the poppy preserve. When Dad and I left you overnight in Chatsworth to receive your antivenin serum, we all cried on the way home. I've seen you in an e-collar more times than I've seen any other animal in our family. You sure know how to get into trouble, woman! Including the time you pulled an entire lasagna down off of the counter at Nanna's house...

Each time we walked in our beloved, wild woods, I always felt safe with you by my side. My friend, we haven't much time left. I want you to know how much your life has meant to me. How I want to scrape the encrusted saliva off of the car window and save it to remind me of you. How I want to take the fur from your last grooming and felt it into a pillow so I'll always have your beautiful smell ("the earthy smell of all that is, was and will be") near me. How sad I will be when you're no longer in charge of the kibble. Who's breath will fog up an entire room? Nobody's but yours, babe.

I love you, sweet Girly Blue, Chocolate Blue, Bluey. Let's smile some more while we can, sweet child.

Smile

"Every time that I think of you I smile for a while. That's the one thing you always do You always smile, smile, smile." --Dan Zanes

 

This is an old post from December of 2006 that bears repeating. Girlie Blue isn't feeling tip-top. We are awaiting test results and would like to ask for good mojo for her. She's a good friend to me and is in need of some healing. 

In splendid gratitude,

p

Happy. Joy.

 

Someone was very happy to attend two birthday parties this weekend: Baby Gavin turned one on Saturday, and Justin (my husband's friend from high school) turned forty. Justin's mama makes the best a mean gourmet potato salad (ok, not better than my mom's, but very good, indeed) and she also made her own rosemary bread which I would have maimed someone for more, had there not been strawberry cake coming my way across the table.

The weekends have a way of turning into a mad rush to get "things" done while there are four adult hands on deck, so it was very good to celebrate and be festive instead of being workaholics. Miles ran around shooting squirt guns on the grass with a couple of other kids and continuing to hatch out of his reserved little shell. I love being out in the world with these children.

In other news, I own far too many pillows. But that hasn't stopped me from coveting OIive. I must've clicked through a front page listing of hers and proceeded to lollygag around dreamily for an hour clicking back and forth, unwilling to close the window. I'm obsessed with cottages and buildings of all kinds and her little house pillows are so charming. I hearted her. Then she tracked me down and fell in love with one of my paintings and put it on her blog (check out her beautiful home pics, too). I love it when mutual hearting happens. It just feels good. Is it possible for virtual stores to exude good energy? If so, then hers does.

Happy, happy. Joy. Joy.

Dances With Mermaids

Many of you already know McCabe Russell, the heartful and sassy woman behind Dancing Mermaid Designs and Mermaid Warriors e-Camp. I was curious to know more about her camps and what led her down this path, so I had to investigate.

What moves me so much about McCabe is her generous spirit with little people. To {speak} with her and read her blog is to know that she has so very much to give.  Her offering of art camp e-courses for girls is very dear to my heart. I don't think a person's energy could be better spent than by investing it in the creativity of girls and tweens. I get so sentimental when I watch the videos she's taken of the kids in her backyard camps-I mean, what if each one of us gathered children just once a summer in order to *see* them, *perceive* them and *listen* to their souls? What kind of ripple effect could that create? 

McCabe does a smashing job of creating safe, sacred space for the girls who attend her courses. I had a few questions for her and she was kind to indulge me. I want to share our exchange with you...

px: How did you begin this work? Was it always calling to you or did a specific event occur that shaped your path?

mc: i began this work 10 years ago when i was part of an outreach program that was geared towards supporting young girls. there was a booklet and outline i was supposed to follow, however, it seemed to me a bit dry just teaching text alone. i started sharing my own stories of questions and ache, along with art projects to keep it fresh and interesting. we created this magic that i will never forget, and the rest came from that place. 

px: What is the most profound thing someone has come away from your workshop with, that you are aware of?

 

mc: again, there have been so many profound moments, but there is one that sticks out. a 10 year old girl looked at me after class and said, " i know who i am now because of you."  of course this child already knew herself and i cannot take credit for her sage insight, but i was proud to provide the space where she could have this revelation. 

 

px: What, if anything, has healed within your own heart as a result of the Dancing Mermaid art camps?

mc: i feel like every time i teach my heart heals a little more. the parts of me that i felt were not enough~not pretty enough, smart enough, successful enough, etc...seem to be irrelevant while i teach. it is a process and practice healing yourself. some days are better than others, but at least i know i am going in the right direction.  this is what grounds me the most. 

px: What is your hope for all who attend your camp?

mc: my hope is that the girls leave knowing their greatness, in all its flaws and stumbles. i also hope that they learn to connect and learn from each other in a healthy, inspiring way. that they see the commonalities within each other not just their differences. 

Being a parent is no easy task. No matter how present you are with your children, there is always, ALWAYS room to give more empathy and creative attention to young people. Being a positive influence for a little girl (or boy) could save their lives. That's how deeply I believe in the work of the Dancing Mermaid! I'm so grateful that other women are taking her lead and starting their own gatherings, as in the case of my dear bud, Wendy. (Be sure to listen to "Beautiful Flower" by India Arie on Wen's embedded mp3 player for tears and the full effect).

Long before I had children, I heard someone say "It takes a village", in reference to raising kids, and it stuck with me. I've enjoyed sharing my friends with my kids, encouraging Miles to create his own relationships with trusted adults so that he could receive varying forms of attention and direction. I wish McCabe lived in my village. *sniff*

Right in our backyards, all of us can begin today. Thank you, McCabe!

Little House

The lovely explorer, Keri Smith and I share a love of tiny houses. I excitedly read her blog last week and began another tear through tiny home blogs, Jay Shafer's awesome site of Tumbleweed houses, gypsy vardos, and hobbity little earth dwellings.

 

The XS

What is it about the wee house that we love so much? From a simple little living room fort to a backyard yurt or tipi, a private treehouse or beautiful boat, I can't get enough of small spaces.

My godfather in another life, Carl Jung, said, "Everything in the unconscious seeks outward manifestation". One could run in any bloody direction with that, Carl. But as it applies to "stuff", I think it's worthwhile to investigate how we collect, what earthly items we cherish and what houses we dream of.

I'm dreaming of a tiny house in a wooded glen at the moment, as I'm deeply missing the trees once again...

And as for earthly items I cherish, here are a few:

1.Hairpins from the vintagebelljar

2.Jeans

3.My favorite mug and this tea

4.Perfect lip balm

5.Sewing machine

6.Yarn/needles

7.My collection of big feathers

8.My grandmother's cast iron skillet

9.Blockprinted dishtowels (sneaking in functional art wherever I can)

10.My worn-out copies of (surprise) Women Who Run With the Wolves, Gift from the Sea and Walden.

I'll keep this list going and encourage you to create your own- bearing in mind that if you only had 200 sq ft to live in, what would you bring with you? What are you afraid of not having?

Some Mighty Good Stuff

It's been a crazy couple of days at our house. Ivy took about an ounce of milk from a bottle tonite while Miles and I were out gathering a couple of jingly things to help her with the car ride northward where we'll be visiting with friends this weekend. Our little mermaid doesn't like riding in the car, and until tonite she would not take any pumped milk-she only digs the real thing. So we're making a little progress, so that Miles and I can have a date together now and then. When I arrived home she and Brandon were the best of friends in a way I haven't seen them before. So yummy. Daddy's mermaid girl...

She still thinks her bedtime is somewhere between eleven and twelve at night and I've created some habits out of exhaustion that I'm already regretting-like nursing her for an hour until she passes out. At a certain point, I just lost my ability to creatively problem solve. I'm working on it, but I think it's pretty safe to have "Frustrates Easily" tattooed on my forehead, as I've planned to for many years now.. I'm only staying up until 3 am a couple of nights per week to paint and do all of those things I wrote about last post. *sigh* The new mama sleepies are starting to catch up with me. I'm having some trouble keeping up and it kills me (my ego) to admit it. I wish I weren't one to spread myself so thin all the time. Balance.

Balance, Balance, Balance. Balance!

Enough kvetching. Here's a cute bag I sewed for one of Miles little friend's birthday last weekend. I had a lot of fun making it and it was super easy. The applique part did not turn out as um, professional as I wanted it to. But I don't think the handsome Cole minded. It's got a little vintage leather coat button secured to it for snazzy looks, but I made a velcro closure for easy ripping open when collecting treasures in a hurry. I stuffed it with healthy (er) snacks and a couple of little books and off we went. No wrapping required!

Below is a pic of M wearing his dinosaur hat, which I think looked like a cross between a fez and a pharoah, (fezroah?) in this shot. I snapped it right after he finished his slab of chocolate cake and captured the drunken euphoria at once. I love pictures like these, the ones that haunt you for a lifetime. We have a snap of my cousin from about 25 years ago making the kookiest face and no one ever forgets it. It's seared on the memory. I hope M won't hate me for this someday. I'm going to take my chances and live for the moment.

 

The absolute best news I've heard all day is that my dear, dear, sweet comrade Wendy over at MotherRising is having great luck and fully booked her first Mighty Girl Art Camp, an amazing week-long day camp for girls to live out their creative dreams in a rad tipi with goodies galore. I do believe my friend is the best qualified person to make a difference in a young girl's life. Hands down. If you are located in the D.C area, go find out more about enrollment! If you're inspired, create your own neighborhood goodliness this summer! If you'd like to make a contribution to share with the girls, contact Wendy! She'd love to hear from you! Thank you, Wen, for sharing your light with those who really need it. Your work is so important!

Have an inspired weekend, already. xo

A Little Joy for Everyone

There are so very, very many good mamas around me. So many. When I started this blog in 2005, I was about to give birth to Miles. Mamahood has been woven tightly into my little piece of fabric here in blogland. It is such an essential part of who I am in my soul and who I am as an artist. Lately, with the boom of just about everyone I know connecting and reconnecting on Facebook, I am experiencing another explosion of meeting and greeting new mamas that I've never known, but, like me, have been finding others like them and growing their circles. Plus it seems like new babies are popping out everywhere! Another baby boom!

I consider myself so lucky to know so many yummy mummys. One such lady just whipped the business out of breast cancer last year and I am SO proud of her. One of the unique things about Jill is that she's one of those mamas whose ears are wide open and wants only to hear about me, me me (or whomever she happens to be talking with). She is absolutely the most amazing and attentive listener I've ever met. This is such a rare gift, one that I cannot claim myself, but wish I could! She is deeply intuitive, (to the point of saving her own life with the cancer thing, choosing to do the opposite of what her doctors recommended) wise, caring and bursting with the joy of life and her two boys. Plus she has mondo cajones.

I decided to honor Jill by driving the beautiful Stacy of Bellawish crazy with a last minute necklace order the week of Mother's Day. I think we were both half asleep, burning the midnight oil, (as I am now) when we discussed the details, but she agreed to hustle and ship it out next day, because she is, in fact, saintly.

What ended up happening was that in our haste, we crossed wires, I didn't match my stinking paypal address! and the necklace was shipped to me instead of Jill. It arrived Monday and I was having a crappy ass, shit-tastic day and so I tore into the package and put the thing on myself, shouting dramatically, "I need a little JOY in my life!"  And in that moment, I realized my foible was totally meant to be. (I really did need some serious joy right at that exact moment.)

So, to Jill, there is another superb JOY necklace on it's way to you. And when I see you in a couple of weeks at hippyfest, we can take a twinsie picture!

And that is my little story for today.

Wishing you a little joy...

Prints Added to SHOP. Yes, SHOP.

I sort of didn't mention that I created an Etsy shop recently. I wonder, because it took me SO LONG to finally get around to it, if I was in shock that it actually existed?

And actually, I'm mostly terrified of promoting my artwork.  And I think I'm totally in denial that I don't know a thing about selling art or telling you about my artist-y-ness. I don't know where to begin. So, as with most things I don't have the answers to, I go underground and only come forward when magical osmosis has occured and I can put words to it!! No time for that psychosis today.  No, Sir.

I think it's obvious that I'm trying to come out of the closet, here. I sneakily put thumbnbails in my sidebar a couple of weeks ago, when only originals were listed, with the use of their clever "mini" widget.  But now, I feel I have to shout this part to overcome my fear....and give my declaration center stage:

I HAVE LISTED PRINTS FOR SALE ON ETSY!!

Whew! I said it.  And now I can go put my head under a doorway and wait for the sky to fall, eh?

 

Awakening, mixed-media on 6"x6" cradled birch board.

This guy is the latest addition, finished just before Ivy was born. Each painting has a long blurb about the figure in it and it's associated medicine and transformative qualities.

I want to thank everyone who has encouraged me to get a move-on and share my work.  I feel absolutely surrounded by love and support!

That being said, I will be showing Returning for the First Annual Squam Art Show in New Hampshire this September at Artstream Gallery. Thank you, LIZ, for doing this. Wow.  I'm so thrilled to be a part of it!

And there you have it!

***

(primps hairdo, apron and wrings hands)

The Myth of Persephone by Guest Blogger: Stephanie Ladd

We're sick and in the healing/birthing cave at Campbell Castle, so I've asked a few friends to guest blog for me.  I hope you enjoy their mother/daughter offerings...xo

A look at the meaning of the myth of Persephone: Initiation

The myth of the maiden Persephone -- who while picking flowers in a 
field sees the earth suddenly open before her and is abducted and 
raped by Hades in a horse-drawn chariot, leaving her mother, Demeter, 
bereft -- is one that makes every mother’s heart ache. When Demeter 
learns of Persephone’s disappearance, she does what any mother would 
do:  search high and low for her, and when she cannot find any trace 
of her, is wracked with grief. She takes out her anger and resentment 
on the mortal world over which she presides as goddess of the harvest 
and causes a severe drought and famine over the land. Eventually she 
learns that Persephone was the victim of a plot by Zeus, uber-
Olympian, and his brother, Hades, god of the underworld, who made her 
his wife. Persephone is eventually allowed to return to her mother but 
not before Hades tricks her by giving her a juicy pomegranate before 
she leaves. Upon taking a bite, she unknowingly binds herself to his 
realm, but is allowed to live half of the year on earth with her mother.

I recently read a feminist revision of the myth, which left out the 
rape and changed the story so that Persephone and Hades were equal 
partners and she made a choice to live part of the time with him and 
part of the time with her mother. While I can appreciate the desire to 
turn this into a fable of equality, in which Persephone is less of a 
victim, it misses the point of the myth. And as someone who loves 
understanding archetypes, fairy tales, and myths, with all their 
shadowy elements from a Jungian perspective, I see the story of 
Persephone differently.  It is a tale of initiation: a young woman's 
coming of age and need to separate from her mother so that she can 
become her own person.

While the imagery of Persephone being kidnapped and raped by Hades is 
not one that on the surface any woman (let alone mother) would ever 
ascribe to or condone on any level, if we look at it metaphorically, 
it makes sense as told. (We mortals shouldn’t mess with the gods. 
Their lessons are often severe and have teeth -- the better to eat you 
with, my dear.)

Perhaps because my own 12-year-old daughter is going through puberty 
and I have watched her in a sense be "snatched away" from me, it hits 
close to home, and the metaphorical meaning is more apparent. I am 
reminded that there is no easy way to go from girlhood to womanhood. 
It is in some ways a violent shift, involving the shedding of blood, 
the raging of hormones, and leaving the comfort of "home," or what is 
known and safe – and venturing out into the social world at large. I 
know how Demeter felt as she searched for the long, lost little girl 
she had known only a short time ago.

Hades represents on a masculine level what Persephone, the naïve, 
feminine, is required to face at some point in coming of age: the loss 
of innocence and the gaining of experience. This involves risk-taking 
and venturing out into the scary world without mommy to hold her hand 
as she has become used to. (And who amongst us has not been seduced or 
tempted by the bad boy, the dark haired charmer who drives up in his 
snazzy car to whisk us away on a daring first date?) Every one of us 
as Persephone must venture into the darkness, the unknown, and find 
ourselves as well as our inner masculine so that we can use our 
personal power in the world. While the consecration seems harsh and 
brutal, Persephone survives it and goes on to marry Hades and preside 
as Queen of the Underworld. She did what we must all do: consecrate 
the marriage between our inner masculine and inner feminine to achieve 
balance and wholeness – the ability to call upon the yin and yang of 
these energies when we need them.

 From Demeter's point of view, which I can now thoroughly embrace as a 
mother of a daughter who is starting the leave-taking, it all seems 
harsh and scary out there for my tender young daughter, but I must let 
go.  I can relate to Demeter's grieving. Many times as my daughter has 
raged and pushed me away in the throes of her coming of age, I have 
had to remind myself that this is normal; this is what she needs to 
do; she needs to claim her own identity, separate from mine, and the 
ties that have bound us until now. We have had talks about these 
"battles," and she is always so relieved when I let her know I don't 
take them personally, that I see that she is going through the painful 
process of expressing and finding her authentic self. She must push 
away; and I must allow it. (And I remember my own struggles as a 
maiden in her position. How I longed for a mother who understood and 
could contain my feelings.)

And at various times, my daughter, Chloe, like Persephone, has come 
back to me (from her time underground) and let me know she appreciates 
my tolerance and understanding; and at times she comes to me as the 
little girl again who needs to feel close to her mommy. I see the 
relief on her face. And she, too, tolerates my anger and perhaps a 
little bit of my pain in letting go. It is not of her choosing, as it 
is for any of us. At some point we are called to the journey, to 
become the heroine in our own lives. We will either answer that call 
with courage and meet our fate or we will stay undifferentiated from 
our family and afraid to take a bite of what life has to offer. It is 
a difficult but necessary reordering of the mother/daughter 
relationship and a drive towards wholeness that should not be thwarted.

Stephanie Anderson Ladd is a Licensed Professional Counselor in Chapel Hill, NC. If you will be in the area, check out her Soul Collage workshop at Panopolie. Contact her at
stephanie@saladd.com. The above pictured card is her own creation.

Full

 

2.5" x 5", Mixed-media on reused plyboard from a cookie box, 2009.

One of my favorite things I've ever heard Miles say: "Why are those foxes putzing around at night?" (while reading a book about Sonoran desert wildlife).

Putzing around is a term I use with him when he is stalling at bedtime, lollygagging about when I'm trying to dress him...typical impatient mom lingo.  When I started inking on the surface of the above tiny piece, that's what it felt like to me-putzing around-where am I going with this?  In a really fun way.  I tried some crackling paint and a few different kinds of pens.  My rotring bled a bit on top of all of the layers of paint, even with waterproof ink-so problem solving that was a little frustrating. I ended up using a Staedtler that was a bit cleaner than I was really going for, but I do think I'll keep using it. 

So in the end, it didn't matter where I was going-just that I was enjoying the crooked path, full of mistakes, dead ends and U-turns.

We had friends come in from northern CA yesterday afternoon, to squeeze in one last visit before baby comes. We so enjoyed their company and felt so FULL when they left that I'm still feeling really rich from it.  We love this little family so much-a family who has had some rough bumps-and still are experiencing some.  But the capacity for merriment and closeness was....delicious.

After they cleared out today, I had a living room full of women for monthly medicine circle.  We've been working with excavating the unhealed parts of the mind, transcending self-imposed limitations of the rational mind, and unravelling years of allegiance to thoughts that certain things simply cannot be healed.  We explored the question: What do I believe cannot be healed? I found that there is still a great deal of putzing around to be done in this neighborhood.  At the end of the day, I want to create space within myself to clear those obstacles and remember the mysterious potential of the heart to rise above the mind.

It was a very full day!

 

Miles and Mari, bedhead buddies.

Some Kind of Balance

 

all the leaves areALL THE LEAVES ARE BROWN! andthesky is greyAND THE SKY IS GREY...

Have I ever shared here that it was our good friend Joe who made the infamous ham sandwich for Mama Cass? He was singing backup on her comeback tour and was staying in her flat (because in Joe style, he thought they were playing the Hollywood Palladium instead of the London Palladium and needed last minute accomodations...oops).  Did I also mention that he cooks often for us? 

I'm headed out to the market for cucumbers, steel cut oats and celery for a juicy clean out.  I think I ate too much sugar this weekend or something, my insides just don't feel right at all.  It was probably the dark chocolate covered toffee rolled in pistachios that did me in, oh, and the coconut chocolate chip cookies.  It was kiwi, fresh squeezed apple juice and dry toast for breakfast today and I'll do some more juicing and soup this afternoon to keep it clean.  Baby girl needs something heavier, though, so I may do a bottle of plain kefir before I leave.

I wanted to give a plug to another amazing women-owned and operated company, Holy Lamb Organics in Olympia, WA.  They made a custom-fitted wool and organic cotton pad to fit our baby cradle and they did a mindblowing job.  The pad sent with the Cariboo cradle gifted us (THANK YOU!) was a horrible thin latex pad, fire retardant (meaning: soaked in chemicals) and the search for something totally non-chemical was quite a task. Our wool pad is gorgeous!  I am really paranoid about chemicals around the babes and because we live in the most air-polluted region in the country, it gives me some sort of comfort to know that when she's not sleeping in bed with us, she'll won't be inhaling invisible fumes into her tiny lungs (infant asthma is very common here). 

 

I was one step away from buying materials and making my own, but when I found HLO, I was glad to not have to add one more lofty ambition to my list of To Dos.  If you go there to replace your chemical pillow with a pure wool one, tell them I sent you :).  Oh, and no sheep are killed to make their wool products, they strictly shear. Plus they're a zero-waste company and that makes me so giddy.

The To Dos are piling up, so I made a list on the opposite page of To Bes, just to make sure I am creating equal room for things less do-ey and aligned with pure joy.  Otherwise I've been trying to stuff every moment with "important" tasks.  I have to remind myself that stringing beads with no purpose, reading for fun, choosing great music, and taking naps are balancing to me and deserve to be given more time.  If only I could remember this when I'm not pregnant!! Seriously, every book I own is a how-to!  I need help.

Off we go on a beeauu-full (M speak) sunny CA day, to market, to market, jiggety jig.

 

You may remember these faces.  Maggie and Julie are two of four of us who met on the SARK message board nine years ago and formed an LA group to "explore our creativity"...and explore we have.  We met this weekend in Sacramento for one last hurrah before my baby girl arrives. 

I'm hitting the cold cereal and candied ginger again because pre-labor nausea is setting in.  Delicious. Though I do have a splendid organic juice recipe to offer if you'd like to give it a go.  It is rich in vitamin K, C & A, tumor reducing antioxidants (may you be more fortunate than to need it for this), & folate.  If you aren't pregnant, you can sub the cuke with parsley or just add a bunch of parsley to the mix.  This makes enough for 2 peeps if you have a decent yield juicer.

1 cucumber

1 bunch cilantro

1 bunch spinich

3 sticks celery

Jam slowly until juiced and sip without grimacing...I promise.

Here is a new detail of a near finished piece:

 

And that is what I've been up to since I last posted-nauseatin', paintin', card-pullin', girl squeezin', juicin' shenanigans.

Happy New Year

 

This year is off to a banging good start with a bit of drama yesterday having to do with dogs and their bad behavior, and today I am already rather grouchy and it's only the afternoon!  I'm determined to turn it around, though.  On New Year's Eve I managed to collage a new journal-the kind I reserve for readings, homework and journeys from the medicine circle I sit in and that sort of thing.  In other words, not the burning kind.  Since it's a baby year as well, I like to write letters to my newbie and this journal serves as a reminder that birth is inevitably on the way.  Just in case my gigantic basketball stomach wasn't enough of a clue!  I'm clutching the empty thing as if it symbolizes a place for me to retreat to when the gong of demand isn't ringing off the hook, which it generally does.

A bit ago, the ever-thoughtful and inspiring Keri Smith wrote about becoming intimate for one year with a book of one's choosing and I have selected A Gift From the Sea to carry around with me everywhere.  It is full, and I mean bursting, with simple no-brainer reminders of woman's need to retreat and return in order to stay filled up and ready for the giving, which we all do even if we are not mothers of small children.  I carried it to the doctor's office a couple of days ago and was pleasantly reminded of how easy it is to want to stand up and shout, "Yes! That's how I feel!" but kept it down for the sake of the company.  She speaks of simplifying ones life, and I suppose that is why I have always loved this book.  For a woman surrounded by all of the shining "modern conveniences" 1955 had to offer, she had the reflection to notice that all of the stuff was disruptive to her soul work and her creativity.  Here is a quote for any of us simplifying our closets this new year...

"One learns first of all in beach living the art of shedding;how little one can get along with, not how much.  Physical shedding to begin with, which then mysteriously spreads into other fields.  Clothes, first.  Of course, one needs less in the sun.  But one needs less anyway, one finds suddenly.  One does not need a closet-full, only a small suitcase full.  And what a relief it is!  Less taking up and down of hems, less mending, and-best of all-less worry about what to wear.  One finds one is shedding not only clothes-but vanity."

Travel always calls my attention to packing lightly.  On the rest of my journey, I intend to keep my belongings meaningful and few.  Every closet, cupboard, craft bin, hanging rod and corner is being purged in our home right now, as the holidays have seriously gotten in the way of my nesting.  With it, I let go of fear, holding-on tendencies, sentimentality for "things", and the gross build up that comes from a life lacking in elimination when called for.  This is also a great time to weed through tiresome relationships, weak financial habits, and things that don't serve my well-being.  It always feels so good to clear the way for new energy and adventures to come in, doesn't it?

What are you shedding this new year?

 

aHH, the other side of Christmas...here are a few highlights from our week of holiday peace meets chaos:

*Mailing most of my packages on time!  Having so much fun making or choosing just the right gifts. Making the packaging from old grocery sacks and random fabric.

*Dark, dark hot choc drinking chocolate with gourmet marshmallows on nights we needed to stay up late to finish assisting the elves in the workshop.

*Hiding treats for my sweets.

*Sitting up knitting next to the tree and smelling it's yummy fir-ness.

*Discovering Kirsten Cram, loving her name, and buying one of her prints for a wee in my tribe.  Then spotting her again at SouleMama! 

*Onion dip. Onion dip.  And, oh yes, onion dip.  The kind that comes from a little foil packet and mixes with sour cream.  Mmm.

*BOMBdiggity buckwheat warming goodliness from my girl, Nina.  More of her beautiful sewn cards...thank you my love.  Felted snowbawlz from my gal, Wen and beautiful handmade coloring stones...I love you dames. Cards and pictures galore papering the fridge.  Peanut butter cookies.  Plum cake. 

*A new laptop.  Pink.  WOO HOO!  Santa was very, very good to me.

*"Holly Jolly Christmas" one million four hundred sixty seven times.

*Hobo trippin' to the movie house to see Desperaux with my little man. Discovering long lost gift certificates to movies in post-holiday nesting purge...free movie!

*Kisses on the lips.  Snuggling up close and smelling morning baby's breath.

*Sinterklaas stories, and tales of a Yule Goat for fun, and because I like to say Sinterklaas and chuckle to myself. 

*Hearing a name for my baby girl over the beautiful, cacophonous din.

Fear and Trusting in Lost Spaces

After tea on my favorite corner of the couch that has been seeing a lot of my bum lately, I caught up on some of my favorite blogs and knitted while the pages loaded.  I've been holding my breath to see a post from the sweet Boho that her baby boy is on his way.  I can hardly stand the suspense!

I spend so much time with my head in my family matters, my local interests, and being generally avoidant of what is going on in blogland that I thought Out of the Loop would be the perfect name for a knit design company!  I truly feel left out of the doin's most of the time.  I have a little circle that I stay connected with, and many cyber relations often fall to the wayside.  I think I'm okay with that, but there are just so many interesting people doing the most amazing things (check out any of the links in my sidebar for a taste of what some really creative peeps are doing). When I don't keep up I wish I'd done a better job of staying in the loop.

This business of the "placental bleb" (can you believe it's really a word-I thought it was a typo) and "lake of blood" on my babe's ingoing and outgoing feedsack is probably not a big deal and most of the time I don't think of it.  But I had a meltdown in the shower yesterday (why always the shower?) because my imaginative fearfulness ran away without my noticing and I imagined that if I had to birth in a hospital because of a condition that needed that sort of care-what could happen to my early moments of bonding?  Or what if in the case of a C-sec, I didn't get to see my baby for hours?  Would nurses bathe her roughly and stick her with needles and drugs I haven't authorized them to use? I freaked out in tears at the thought of it and then the shower washed it all away and I was totally okay again.

I have tried to make a stern practice of being fearless in nearly everything I do.  It really goes against the way I was raised, so I make a point to dismiss or face fears with as much courage and faith as I can in the moment.  But I find myself needing to freak out to unsettling news sometimes and then as it sinks in and my higher self comes back into the picture, sensible thoughts return rather quickly.  I can't hold it against myself for overreacting if it's only for a short little time, can I?

I know well that birth is not something to be idealized or controlled.  I'm prepared to be as fearless as I can be about it again.  But no matter how many times you do it, there are still so many unknowns.  Can anyone be a pro at childbirth?  Each little bean comes with his or her own mysteries about how they will come in. It requires so much trust- and a few trusty distractions, as well.

I've been knitting up a storm preparing for a faire this weekend and another one the weekend after Thanksgiving.  I'm excited to show my work, to see what the economic climate is like in the crafter's market, to meet with people and have them try on my goodies.  It has been a very long time since I've put myself out there this way and it is going to be fun to share table space with some amazing glass and jewelry designing friends.

Here are yet another pair of wristwarmers (with thumbholes one can't see in this pic) that I finished a bit ago.  I like working with the thick/thin yarn-more alpaca-just so delicious and four times warmer than wool, it is said.

 

I think my biggest inspiration these days comes from unexpected sources.  I love hearing about grassroots movers and shakers who are finding different ways to create incomes while making room to stay home with the babes, growing food for the neighbors in their yards, travelling, creating local products and information sources that nourish the earth and protect young people from poisons.  I love what is happening in our country right now.  We have a mess to clean up, but never before have I felt so...um...united.  There have been times where I've wondered what the heck I was thinking to have children in such a time of corruptness in politics-and then there are days like the ones I've been having lately.  Despite real or imagined fears, I feel a deep sense of peace that everything will be alright.

Squambelly

 

Dear Sweet Virgo Sister MamaStar-to-Be Boho, Thank you for making me feel beautiful and goddess-like in trousers that were clearly never worn again after Squam.

Photo, Denise Andrade.

Happy Birthday Staunch Charactah

         

To my beloved Wendy on your birthday!  I hope your day is full of the righteous worship you deserve just for being you-creative, sincere, fearless, bold, a woman with big, voluptuous Loong-GiLand BAWLZ! 

So much love to you...so much that I had B snap a special photo in honor of our mutual love.

 

Cheers, sister.  To the Edies and to you on this auspicious day- the anniversary of the day you came to life...

How Do I Begin?

Returning from Squam Art Workshop has left me with many inspired feelings, as well as being quite exhausted.  I hardly know where to begin to describe how significant this experience has been for me.  Perhaps I'll tease you at least a little, as I'm sure I'll be talking about the event for a while as I digest and find a way to put it into words.

 

Being a tree-lover who now lives in the desert, New England is a balm on my soul.  The birch, maple, oak and white pine are so thick and dense, a feast for my spirit.  That being said, imagine being plopped down smack in the middle of my idea of heaven on earth and then let me play for long stretches of hours in a trance...creating!  With dozens of women I love and admire!

We made a big family adventure out of it and left five days before the festival began, starting in Boston and visiting my college roommate and her sister.  We walked around Harvard Square eating ice cream and Italian food, enjoying one of the loveliest cities in the country.

 

It was so worth it to take some extra time to make our leisurely way up to the lakes region of New Hampshire.  We stopped in Methuen, Mass to get a much-needed dose of my girl, Nina, even though we'd be seeing her at Squam.  Her kids were so sweet!  We had an amazing lunch and the kids painted pumpkins grown in Nina's dad's garden.

 

We devoured the best clam chowder in Portsmouth, NH, loads more chocolate ice cream and had so much fun at The Friendly Toast downtown- where Brandon ate Almond Joy pancakes.  Delish.  Because it's all about the food.  We happened into Nahcotta for the Enormous Tiny Art Show and were so excited to see work hanging by artists we actually knew-several of which would be partying down at SAW.  What fortune!

This is all my little jet-lagged fingers can muster tonite-I will get into the nitty grits tomorrow.  There is too much to share to try to squeeze it all in in just one post!

Good Morning, Nina Beana

While I cannot agree that these chips are, in fact, a bonafied "Mediterranean VACATION in a bag", as I have never been on a Mediterranean VACATION, I can vouch for their tastiness and I think you would enjoy crunching more than a few of them down.  Perhaps with your dad. I recommend you hide them from the children.  I was not the wiser and had to pony up a few to Miles.  He asked for the Pirate's Booty, but I'd already reduced those to dust.  The look on his face told me I needed to spare a few of the Tuscans. 

 

What I'm really trying to say is I've been missin you and I can't wait to do a bootyriffic dance at Squammy with you.  Shake it until then and try not to barf on yourself.  We're so happy about your newest bean-to-be!!

Favorite Things

 

oh,yes, i met these women ten years ago on the planet sark message board before it became trendy camp sark when everyone i knew was postcardfairying and eatingmangoesnaked and learning how to be comfortable in her own skin as the appeal to do was replaced by a seed of BE which scattered all over the world and we began to talk-oh, the talks! long and deep and intimate with a charge underneath it that shouted, "we can do anything we choose!" with flames and invitations and returns to love and lost loves and marriages, too, twisted hurricanes and earthquakes and fires come and gone we still meet, this time on the milkiest tit on the west coast....my beloved big sur.

my beloved elements!

we rhoooule the whhhuuuurlldd!

Down from Warrior a Notch

   

What a lovely weekend I've had with my favorite mountain medicine women.  When we gather, we seldom have a plan (except for food, of course!) and the weekend unfolds as it is supposed to.  We've become so tuned in on this path, that we often make easy connections between what is going on for each of us and that unofficially becomes the theme of the retreat.  This weekend was all about finding peace in the midst of the unknown.

I found in my journeywork that it is easy for me to spend time in the realm of seeking treasures underground-my mole medicine was very strong!  My message was that I need to come up above ground and learn how to BE when there is pure chaos going on around me.  I have pulled into my safe cave since giving birth over 2 years ago.  I don't even have cable or watch TV, and most certainly don't read the newspaper.  It isn't that I don't want to empathize with what is going on for people, or be involved with the world, I have just been using my energy differently to benefit myself and others.

I also feel like I am finally coming to peace with my job as a bodyworker.  There are about 10 other jobs I would love to try, but right now, I love the job I have and it has been so good to my family and me.  (I go to work to relax, as we say at the spa).  The clientele I've built are the goodliest people I could ever wish to see each week.  I think that I take what I have acheived for granted at times and just yearn for the next adventure.  I'm trying hard to love what I am doing and what I have at the moment.  That includes living in this town where only one day out of every five is a healthy air day!  Hard to sit still in this, but I'm trying.