Pink Coyote

Just For Fun

 

We've been having lots of fun this week playing with a new toy, the classic favorite of Louis XV: the Ball n' Cup. Truth be told, we're having a little too much fun.  I thought it would be a great toy for Miles: made of wood, good for hand-eye coordination, hip multicultural origin, requires some dexterity, favored by kings, you know, proper Renaissance-style amusement.  We've all taken a few whacks, but no one has ended up in tears and we are each becoming edgily competitive about mastering our techniques.  Miles is mostly just swinging it around, then picking up the ball and plopping it in the cup-(makes a most pleasing sound!).  I'd say that 3 is not the age a child will enjoy this toy the most-though it's rated for 3+. I'd wager a guess that he'll love it when he's about 5. 

I love sharing resources for natural toy companies that offer interesting alternatives to all of the plastic, lead coated, noisy, no-brainer toys that are available at toy stores and megastores-most of which end up broken and in a landfill before the year is up.  Down To Earth's selection of Natural Toys offers tons of affordable, well-made options that pose no chemical harm to our babes and they're the kind of toys you'll want to pass along to other kids later on. 

The other thing is that playing with this toy makes you look dangerously cool.

  

 

Miles loves sporting his Mati Rose Original tee shirt.  She has a cute entry up featuring a montage of babes wearing this shirt which we bought for M at the art sale that followed Squam Art Workshop in New Hampshire last Fall.  If you haven't heard of this magical, creative gathering, check it out!  Sessions are in June and September this year-treat yourself to some creative resources and downtime in the gorgeous NH forest on infamous Golden Pond.

My psc has been acting out lately, preventing me from making color copies and enlargements to create with-so after a bit of research, I chose a cheap HP all-in-one rather than the Canon that I think will do a better job of making prints of my work.  The HP will aid more in the process of creating, which is more of my focus at the moment.  It does use archival quality ink, so I may be surprised at the quality-I know so little about this sort of thing. If you are a printer expert, feel free to throw your $.02 my way!  Be sure to tell me if you use a model like this for printing your own artwork.

I may treat myself to the Canon later on down the line when it makes more sense-it accepts those lovely, thick, fine art papers that look so juicy when printed upon.  In the meantime, I need my copying and scanning capabilities!  I'm running out of time, here! 

I hit the jackpot at one of my favorite antique store haunts-a collection of 1950's cityscape postcards that I'm excited about collaging with under the paint.  The bright pastels are inspiring me as Spring draws near and they grey of winter is being chased away.  I am digging the way the yellow sun spills across our floor and warms the house.  Everything seems bathed in amber light.

It's been a rather lazy day-I haven't given one thought to alkalizing food (my new obsession), instead I've been eating comfort food (avocado and cheese sandwiches, bbq chips, buckwheat pancakes...)and lying around on my duff watching Sesame Street with Miles.  I did scrub the kitchen up and down this morning, which could be part of that frenzied nesting one does when babe is really wanting out.  It's a game of anybody's guess as to when this little elf is going to arrive!  Shall I start taking bets??

More Wild Soul, Please.

In birth as it is in any creative act...too much safety and structure scares the heck out of me. I think the thing I had to realize early on when my disorderly painting style began to emerge, is the fact that many people will not think my work is pretty or want to hang it on their walls.  It is not whimsical or particularly inspiring.  *sigh*

That being said, there is no real "purpose" to my work besides the act of doing it- which I find immensely gratifying, as in no strings attached.  But what came first? Purposelessness at the onset or necessary surrender so that it could be the ugly or messy thing it usually wants to be? 

I suppose that if I hung my hopes on people liking my work, I would truly starve!  Thank goodness my husband has paying work! Feedback is fun, but I do believe that, for me, it is not necessary in order to feel glad I did the work.  This is a relief.

I feel a certain wildness when I'm painting.  I make a strange face that is focused and not attractive at all.  I drop things repeatedly and spill things on the counter that I don't wipe up until I'm out of my trance.  I snack like an animal. I unconcsiously forget I'm not wearing painting clothes and wipe my hands on my pants, but don't care much in the end. 

Okay, that's not exactly wild, but I'm not functioning in my conscious body, and that feels different from how I normally operate. 

Giving birth to M felt the same way to me.  At home, there was no one badgering me to sign papers while riding out a contraction, no one securing wires and blood pressure cuffs on me while I was trying to do my hippy dippy Rainbow Relaxation.  There was no incessant beeping of monitoring machines, tapping out reports on little tapes beyond my door in a nurse's station.  There was no one looking at the clock and expecting me to perform and making me anxious.  And in that place of total surrender without expectation, my baby arrived: smoothly, harmoniously, very messily and right on time. Though I did yell out, "What time is it?" as soon as his slippery body was out-because who knows, he may want to have his chart read someday...*grin*. Important stuff.

 

That darn flash.  If I weren't burning the midnite oil to eek out time in the studio, my photos would surely appear a bit better.  But then, who cares, right? :)

"When there is too much predator and not enough wild soul, the economic, social, emotional, and religious structures of culture gradually begin to distort the most soulful resources, both in spirit and in the outer world.  Natural cycles are starved into unnatural shapes, lacerated with unwise uses, or else put to death. The value of what is wild and visionary is denigrated, and dark speculations are made about how dangerous the instinctual nature really is.  Thus stripped of authentic sanctity and meaning, destructive and painful means and methods are rationalized as superior."  --Clarissa Pinkola Estes, Ph.D, Women Who Run With the Wolves

36 Weeks: Full Moon Belly

 

We're getting so close, and I'm feeling so very, very full.  Sleeping is getting a bit tight, I feel quite like The Tick, if you can remember that comicbook TV hero, squashed neatly into his tight blue getup, but me without the superhuman strength.

Tonite I'm painting, but reading some while the coats dry.  Tell me if you can relate to this:

"I'm sending you on a very lonely road. No one will ever truly understand you. They think they know you, but they don't know what you're thinking about, they don't know the feelings that you have, how sometimes even in a busy, crowded place you need to make certain contact, and to do so, you need to be somewhat withdrawn. That's why, in a social situation it's very uncomfortable for you just to sit down and talk to pass the time: 'Oh, yes, this and all that. Oh, isn't it wonderful, and my, I saw a beautiful chair in the store window the other day. And, gosh, the way they were dressed.' These aren't things you can relate to when you carry medicine.  So it's sort of a lonely road, but in the end, it's worthwhile. It's all worthwhile." --Bear Heart, The Wind is My Mother

I think being a creative person is, too, like carrying sacred medicine. The mind and the heart engage a little differently than in some folks. And a lonely road it can seem to be at times.

Skittling Across the Floor

 

Since all but swearing off plastics in M's toybox, we've been casually on the prowl for fun toys for him to play with that are made by artisans and craftspeople who are taking care of the planet while honoring their art.

We were thrilled to find Camden Rose, who have a beautiful story behind their imaginative children's company.  (I'm crazy to try their Demeter-certified baby woolens just to support those passionate people practicing agriculture properly!)

We ordered the above pictured birch skittles set for Miles from Palumba, who have a gorgeous catalog full of yummy natural toy offerings.

There are lots of games that can be taught to a three-something, but we have been having the most fun just setting up the pins and knocking 'em down American ten-pin style.  The set came with two balls and ten pins inside a little cloth bag, sweet!  We've taken them inside and out, on the grass, the sidewalk, tabletops, anywhere the pins will stand.  The pins are only 5" tall-but we found they were just the right height after using them for a bit.  They come unfinished, but you can shine them up with a bit of beeswax.  We opted not to, considering you-know-who-on-the-way  is going to have her baby lips wrapped around everything she can find by next winter.  That makes these sorts of toys even more fun.

We give this wooden skittles set points for encouraging counting, imagination, balance study, and accuracy.

Now, if only I could get all of the plastic out of my grocery cart!

Keep It Non-Toxic

I've added a couple of categories to the right margin and am attempting to get a bit more organized over here with my posts.  I want to  share links to two important search databases that you might find useful when selecting cosmetics or children's toys-both allow you to search by product name and see what toxic chemicals have been reported.  And both offer shocking information about what is used in our homes daily that is poisoning us.

Skin Deep is the cosmetic database, and they even give safety ratings for your products. If you're, for example, using California Baby sunblock on you and your little one, you can see how it sizes up to the other major brands out there. (California Baby does very well with most of their products).  Surprisingly, anything anti-bacterial with the ingredient of Triclosan is now on the all-thumbs-down list.  My germophobe mama friends will not be pleased to hear this.

Healthy Toys is the kids toy search tool and it is very helpful when choosing birthday or shower gifts for someone you know who is conscious about such things.  My hope is that you will try to eliminate from your child's toybox those items containing lead and known neurotoxins sooner than later!  Might want to rethink the Hannah Montana lead heart pendant, if you catch my drift...

Hopefully, you'll find them useful. This week I'll be reviewing a non-toxic classic toy that has become a favorite of Miles: Skittles!

Be well, yo.

A New Mommy is Born

Penelope Dullaghan crossed over into a new and unbelievable realm of being into motherhood on Friday.  Congratulations, Penny and welcome to the world, Veda Katherine.  We can't wait to see what you have in store for us!  Props to Colin: a new daddy is born, as well, one who I'm betting will hop right off the charts as far as Dads go.

Ceremony

I'd been wondering lately if it might be interesting to Miles to learn a bit about what it is I do when I'm off sitting in the "circles" he has become so familiar with me leaving for.  He seems curious when I return, full of questions and sniffing me, etc. I imagined taking a few short, private moments of us connecting to the elements as a family and honoring him with medicine that will help him on his journey into becoming a brother, and introducing him to a few of his helpers.

When I walked around the property looking for a good place to set up the rocking chair Brandon found for him, I spotted a hawk feather on the ground-pretty rare find, though we do have a mating pair that nest very near here, so I took it as an auspicious sign and added it to the bundle I'd made for him. Then I adorned the chair and assembled a few sacred items and fetched the boys to meet me outside.  I placed the chair facing the East, symbolizing a new journey, a beginning.

 

 

He wanted to open the package immediately, and in it was a medicine bag (and he exclaimed, "It's a medicine bag! It's what I've always wanted!") containing objects representing each of us in our family, including the new little one on her way.  He put it on right away. I made a cornmeal circle around him and we asked the directions for their blessings with sage and herbs and then we gave him a jar of birdseed to scatter as an offering to the winged helpers that assist with medicine of the East.

 

It was short and sweet and we felt it would be meaningful to him later in life to know that not only are we here to help him along with any struggles he might have, but that he has wisdom within and around him that he can access at any time to guide him when he needs to call upon it.  I want him to feel the support of his relations as he travels his path.  It was very special to have that time with him, and it's made me look forward to incorporating more ritual into our lives to mark special transitions-I have always included it for myself, but now it is time to involve my family a bit more.

 

Tonite we head out to feast with friends in honor of our baby boy growing up-and you should know his prerequisite for choosing a restaurant was that they offer "a lot of chocolatey desserts." 

We love you, Miles Lighthorse.  May your path always be illuminated, son.

For Love

 

Glass Heart, Diane Marshall.

 

Borrowed from an old Victorian card:

 

In pleasure's dream, or sorrow's hour

In crowded hall, or lonely bower,

The business of my soul shall be

For ever to remember thee.

 

Happy Valentine's Day, Lovers. xo

 

Neptune's Daughter

     

Months ago, when we found out that our little bean was going to be a girl, Miles glommed with all of his heart onto the name "Triton" for her, because he loves the solar system and Triton is one of Neptune's moons.  We tried to entertain it, even for a middle name, and to his deep dismay, we shan't be using it for our daughter.  We have a little party planned at a local eaterie this Sunday in honor of his rite of passage into big brotherhood and one of the gifts we gave him this week was a little Waldorfy Cuddle Doll, which he quickly named... you guessed it: Triton.

Today he wanted to take her out into the world and share her in his silky sling (hand-dyed by the amazing Wendy Cook).  He has been nurturing her and practicing all of his big brother skills since we presented her to him.  (She is a fair-trade cotton and wool Peppa Cuddle Doll and we got her on ebay, but they sell them at Down to Earth).  He got a lot of positive little coos from the grandmotherly types, but can I tell you, in that hat, everyone thought he was a girl.  Are boys who nurture that unexpected??  I have to ask.  Maybe it's his eyelashes...

It has been really fun preparing him for this change because he is so nurturing and STINKIN' SWEET. He tells us how much he can't wait to help with the diapering, holding and nursing (!) and it just makes it even more exciting that he's so into it.  There have been times where it's felt like this baby is more for him than for us.  I know I have a few who will fight for the right to this title, but I'm pretty sure I'm the Luckiest Person Alive.

False Alarm

 

My new best friend.

Last night I was in what I thought to be labor from about 2am to 7am.  It was really weird since we're 5 weeks out and my fears surround birthing in the hospital.  Sitting in the bath and resting with my thoughts for a while, I was able to get myself to that magical place of surrender and also decide with Mr. B and the midwife that we would stay in our comfortable home and give birth and proceed from there if necessary.  It allowed me some much-needed mental housekeeping that I couldn't have possibly done without being in the position of thinking "today's the day". 

Birth is, for me, a courageous act- one that cannot be put off until later, until the mental or emotional kinks are worked out, or until the timing is right.  I think this is what I love so much about natural homebirth. It requires the complete surrender to something beyond my control that I have to breathe, move, sing, hum and pray my way through-all done outside the realm of my conscious mind.  I have a friend scheduling her C-section for early March, we are due about a week apart. Oddly enough, though her idea of an ideal birth is pretty much the polar opposite of mine, we share many of the same sentiments.  For her, C-section is her preferred and most satisfying method of birth, but comes with risks and anticipations much like my own, just within a different set of parameters.  I think I've likened the birth of a baby to any creative act here before, giving your baby wings and bringing it forth into the world requires courage and surrender.  And perhaps love of the truth that it will be whatever or whomever it is going to be, and that we do not possess it so much as give it life and treat it as a divine gift.

My clean out yesterday had an, um...cleansing effect and that may have had something to do with her knocking on my chamber door a bit early.  I'm sticking with the same idea today, just have this notion that my body doesn't want a lot of heavy food or processed flours and the like.  Today, I heart split pea and barley soup (on the stove), steel cut oats with coconut oil and raw honey, lemon water, blackstrap molasses for iron (thanks for the reminder, Stevie), raw almonds, aloe vera juice, GoodBelly probiotics and all the green juice I can stand.  Strange timing, but this what my body is telling me to do. 

I feel my baby girl delightfully teasing me...knowing that I want answers, predictability...Aquarian? Pisces?  Silly questions entertain me while I play the waiting game....

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.

   

A happy boy on a trike in unusually wet, yet predictably warm California weather.

I'm working on a new piece, which is funny because I have had a dry spell that seemed to last forever.  Now that I have just over a month to go before our daughter is born, a wildfire has been lit under my butt and I'm feverishly fussing about in the studio, applying paint and paper in symbolic layers of what is unfolding within and without.

As I mentioned in my last post, birth of any kind must be done on one's own two feet.  I got a lesson this week that was rather painful, and it came of my own choice.  Oy, gevald! I am rather notorious for putting my foot in my mouth and collecting more opinions than should be allowed by law, and that is where trace humor ends in this story.

More and more I am realizing that this journey is just my own.  Community, and the sometimes false senses of intimacy that accompany it, is comforting when parties are comfortable and light.  Yet, this week, as a subject of a deeper nature surfaced, I realized too late how mistaken I 'd been to assume that vulnerability could exist in a conflict of ideas.  I suppose it shouldn't surprise me, as how can I expect vulnerability and trust to prevail in a culture that promotes, by leadership example: secrecy, self-defense, privacy and individual rights over truth, healing and conscious action?  If I sound bitter about this, I'm not.  I believe these things have merit when not born of a shadow or fear.  I'm observing how these values seem to play out in some relationships.  The affair left me feeling rather lonely, as the choice to speak out was mine alone, and I alone had to experience the consequences.

Whenever I feel lonely on this path, Bobcat is here to teach me how to be solitary without feeling alone.  It is also trying to teach me when to speak, how much and to whom.  This is a very hard but important lesson for me to continue exploring.  Ted Andrews says, "What may be white to the Bobcat person can be mistakenly perceived as black", and I would have been wise to consider that possibility this week. 

Messages keep coming through for me to seek out what is hidden and to trust my own senses, and this is also the medicine of Bobcat.  Preparing to become a mom again, I can feel my instincts stirring more loudly and seeking a voice, standing up like cautious fur on the back on my neck and the points of my ears.  I am beginning to feel a little restless, for my own birth and for protection of those ideas and actions I value most, especially with regard to the wee ones and their fragile first experiences on this plane with us.

Striking a balance among all of these contrasting feelings and concepts has been challenging this past week.  I want to think of myself as one who is respectful of others, tries to forego judgement and creates lots of room for empathy for what others must be going through and yet takes worthwhile risks to deepen an experience.  It is the part of me that sees what others may not that I have a rough time navigating through and then communicating.  The reverse side of this sweet-smelling card is sounding like an arrogant, know-it all, and possibly hurting someone's feelings to boot.  I suppose all I can do is keep on seeking to gain clarity and direction... and a good dose of humility.

At the bottom of it all, being alone doesn't feel uncomfortable like it once did.  I am surrounded by loving friends and family, but in my heart, I know that my strength must come just from me and my lessons are my own to learn.  Learning to see in the dark is my journey.

  

Bead by Mamacita.

Thank you, for honoring me and remembering.  I feel totally adored!

Six weeks out and counting.  I am wishing, hoping, praying, holding space for the ability to give birth in the manner that is sacred and affirming to me and knowing that it is my privilege to do so.  Birthing a baby, a book, a piece of art, must always be done on one's own two feet.  And so I go forth, only fearing those who would stand in my way and not the birthing process itself.  That I feel divinely in sync with!

Many contractions that are getting a bit more uncomfortable, but nothing to fret about.  It is excellent practice for slowing down and breathing deeply, the kind of business actual labor calls for.  So I guess I'm getting a bit of a head start!  Do I sound anxious?  I think I'm a little anxious in this moment.  Not about contractions with no meaning, but about hospitals and doctors who aren't in the practice of hearing women who intend to homebirth. 

I will distract myself with making dinner...anyone have any good cheesy books to recommend?  Got any girl names you love and want to share??

xo

 

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.