Pink Coyote

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)

Going to Seed

Scene: Storytime at bedtime tonite.

Miles, (sorrowfully): But I don't like it when the beyoofull flowers die and all of the seeds blow away!

Me, (assuredly): I know. Mother Nature gave everything it's season, babe. And don't you love to blow those blowing flowers into the wind and make wishes as they sail off to land on the earth to make more beautiful dandelions?

Miles, (almost crying): No and I...um...! I just want them to stay golden and beyoofull and... not die!

Me, (almost crying): Even if one small flower can send out all of it's tiny seeds and make a hundred dandelions?

Miles (calming): No, mama.

Miles Lighthorse, 3 1/2 years. This morning was his first day of preschool.

My little guy is growing up.  He's been wanting to "go to school" for almost a year now and today he finally set sail into the world into a two half-days-a-week program after being under my protective wing for this long. It was a bit rough on him. The teacher, Miss Lupe, finally created an inroad for herself by showing him how to put paint in a pizza box and roll a marble around in it over a fishie cutout and create some colorful swirls.  But she also confessed that at one point he pulled his hat over his eyes and clamped his hands over his ears.  I phoned after he'd been there for two hours and they put him on the phone.  "I'm tired of being here", he'd said, woefully.  Ivy and I piled into the car and drove immediately to pick him up.  I found him on the playground looking a bit overwhelmed. The other kids seemed to be moving so fast. He looked like someone in a movie scene, caught in slo-motion while everyone else races around. He's a very conscious and sensitive fellow and when my eyes met his, he looked at me with such relief, as if just the connection to someone who knows him was all he needed to find his light again.

He wants to try again on Thursday and B and I agreed that it will be good to keep trying as long as he wants to go.  I may end up picking him up after two hours for a few weeks, but I'm willing to do it so he can decide whether this environment is nourishing to him. I can see the potential at this larger preschool for him to have fun and learn how to integrate into a group.  But part of me yearns for a little intimate setting which is slower paced and more thoughtful. I don't know of a place like that here.

While we wait, painfully, to see how he will adjust, I'll keep looking for a place that might be better suited for him. It was so hard to send him off today. Part of it felt like I was throwing him to the wolves, not knowing what loneliness feels like to him or if he was being heard. He speaks so quietly and softly, my fear is that he might have felt invisible there.  But perhaps that wasn't the case.  It's really the first time I've ever had to wonder. 

*sigh*

Tiny seeds all eventually blow out into the wind to find their own way in the world.  Knowing that doesn't make it any easier.

Everyone Loves a Log

I pawned Ivy off on Brandon last night, quite late, because I was dying to get into my studio and doink around with an idea that I've been wanting to figure out. Well, two ideas. He's a good sport- had her down snoozing in minutes and I'd been laboring anxiously for over an hour. Sometimes I do not have the magic touch. *Sigh*

One of the idea's is at my husband's urging, well, kind of. He has long been nagging me to play with Django Reinhardt's image in some way-I think he may have been thinking a painting, but my mind meandered to...embroidery! Not just any embroidery, though-freehand machine stitched embroidery! I crack myself up trying to teach myself something new all the time. It's too maddening to work on the same things over and over again, perhaps. I need to play in addition to doing what I do routinely.  Keeps the gears freshly turning.

So he made the sketch, after I bombed at it-mine looked like Peter Lorre's and Poncho Villa's lovechild. I couldn't capture the features that make the grandfather of gypsy jazz so recognizable.  Here is what I came up with based on Brandon's sketch:

And a bit closer:

 

I kind of like the haphazard hair, and I like the way his moustache turned out. I'd love to get my stitches together and turn him into one of these! I'm now planning to stalk Sammi-I think her embroidery people are wowzer.

Then I had to (no choice here) stay up ungodly late and cover up an old onesie that Aunt Jill had given us for Miles when he was a babe.

"Metal Baby" doesn't quite capture Ivy's persona, so I created something that was intricate, yet solid:

 

 

A simple log of turquoise thread on flaxy linen. Perhaps it will actually be cool enough to wear long sleeves for a short time!

The weather is cooling down after a heatwave for the past few days that has made me very cranky! Retreating into my sewing machine has been a welcome respite-I'm not ready for hot weather yet! We often say there is no real Spring here in the desert-like valley floor, it just goes from cool to hot, immediately. Unbearable!

My soul yearns to live somewhere cool again, where going outside is a visual feast and pleasure on my skin. Here I race the kids to the car, crank up the freon and curse the searing hot buckles of their carseats.  Miles must tire of me saying, "Sweetheart, take a drink of your icewater, your cheeks are really red!" And griping the entire drive to anywhere.

I will take the 74 degree forecast and milk it for all it's worth-even if it means I won't be making anymore stitchery masterpieces for a little while!

Earth Day

Call me cheesy Gen-Xer, but I loves my Soundgarden.

 

HANDS ALL OVER THE EASTERN BORDER
YOU KNOW WHAT? I THINK WE'RE FALLING
FROM COMPOSURE
HANDS ALL OVER WESTERN CULTURE
RUFFLING FEATHERS AND TURNING EAGLES INTO VULTURES


GOT MY ARMS AROUND BABY BROTHER
PUT YOUR HANDS AWAY
YOUR GONNA KILL YOUR MOTHER, KILL YOUR MOTHER
AND I LOVE HER


HANDS ALL OVER THE COASTAL WATERS
THE CREW MEN THANK HER
THEN LAY DOWN THEIR OILY BLANKET
HANDS ALL OVER THE INLAND FOREST
IN A STRIKING MOTION TREES FALL DOWN
LIKE DYING SOLDIERS 
 

HANDS ALL OVER THE PEASANT'S DAUGHTER
SHE'S OUR BRIDE
SHE'LL NEVER MAKE IT OUT ALIVE
HANDS ALL OVER WORDS I UTTER
CHANGE THEM INTO WHAT YOU WANT TO
LIKE BALLS OF CLAY
PUT YOUR HANDS AWAY
YOUR GONNA KILL YOUR MOTHER
AND I LOVE HER

AND SHE LOVES ME

Hands All Over, Chris Cornell & Kim Thayall

 

photo, Diane Grupe Marshall

Captain's Log

 

all of the elements came together and stars aligned

 

and all of hollywood shined its favorable light upon our first daytrip

 

and we weighed ourselves on each different planet

 

and found that we were just as clever in heaven as we are on earth

 

and we hearted it all and it was good

Alumi-nated

Miles and I decided to collage some robots yesterday morning.  As the sunshine streamed through the window, and Ivy slept-giving us precious one-on-one creative time together that we've been missing terribly-we cut, pasted and chatted away. Mostly chatted about the amazing things that robots can do-like "build glass" and "just talk by squeaking".

 

 

He put a heart on her torso-for love, of course. (Wall-E has definitely had an impact)

 

 

He decided to call her......wait for it.......ALuminNa, because "she's made of aluh-mih-nuhm fole". Again, no excited coaching from me, believe it or not-he came up with this all on his own.

 

Today I won a trophy for Largest Bags Under Eyes Since the Beginning of Time. [Oops, was that a scoop of caffeinated coffee grounds that accidentally fell into the filter?] Not that Ivy didn't sleep a nice 5 hour stretch last night-she did. But the colicky evening began at 7pm instead of 8pm and took its toll on my confidence after a time.  The  thing I want to do most is to be able to soothe and comfort my baby. Inconsolable crying for several hours (a hallmark of the early days with both of my children) undermines my ability to believe that I'm doing everything I can. I just keep asking myself-what else should I be doing that I can't see right now???  And that really messes with me! It seems not to matter that I know this dance very well and I know it passes just before I crack.

Oh, it still totally messes with me! And I've been as ungraceful as I can possibly be at times, feeling sore, haggard and tired plus all of those things Oriah Mountain Dreamer writes about in The Invitation.

I'm YEARNING for some creative time just for me.  You might remember that I was on fire in the weeks leading up to her birth. There's an Etsy store announcement in my future (Earth Day? Too ambitious?), a new banner stirring in the pot-if only in my head, and some block prints to be carved. She will only be this tiny and needy for such a short, bittersweet period of time. While I'm enjoying her immensely, I realize that all of life is about balance-about finding those things that cause glittering, dripping-with-honey manna to appear before me so that I have some sort of reserves to draw on in the most delicate moments. Creating anything makes everything right for a while.

 

My little Ivy sweetpea, climbing up into her life at 4 weeks old today.

 

Eggs & Hatchlings

 

 

The eggs turned out nicely, though I think I must have miscalculated some of the conversions for salt and vinegar because some of the color didn't absorb as well and almost rubbed off when wet.  Once dry, they all seemed fine, but not quite as rich in color. 

 

This photo looks really washed out! But from the top right going clockwise: blackberries for a lavenderish color, turmeric mixed with cabbage juice for green, saffron mixed with beet juice for orange, beets for pink, turmeric for a really nice yellow and the dark blue in the middle was made with purple cabbage juice.

I will try it again next year, but I won't bother with the berries, the color was just too light! Or I'll try it with a more concentrated mixture and try to follow better instructions. The cabbage experience was not wonderful, but the color was really nice.  Maybe I can boil it on the barbecue?

  

My little hatchling in her Easter dress from Dada. She reminds me of the Hotei in this picture-the Laughing Buddha (of Happiness?). That little Mia Farrow hairline kills me.

 

Here she is snoozing it up on the back porch in her hat from adoring fan, Auntie Julie.  My dear husband made an amazing spinich fettucine with baked roma tomatoes for dinner tonite, after an amazing weekend of doing almost nothing and enjoying every bit of it.

My hope is that your spring celebration weekend was as satisfying as it was over here.  Feeling so blessed and ready for whatever this fertile season brings!

Celebrating in Color

Fall has always been my favorite season, hands down, even though I live in a region where Fall hardly shows up for the party. This is probably why we try to make it to the northeast when that time of year rolls around.  Spring has always been a welcome friend at my door, too. However, living in California every day of my life thus far, where I take warm weather for granted, it doesn't dazzle me like it does my northern cronies.

This year it's been a little different. Because Ivy was due in Spring (and was born the first day of), I've perked up to all of the various meanings of the season and have put more effort into celebrating it.  Also, because I like to teach M about the seasons, and he's now at a ripe age to be really interested in such things.

So we did some funny fun things today. Above is a jelly bean bracelet inspired by Mrs. D Lightful, and below, M's version.

And yet another:

These were fun, fast and totally cheap-a roll of stretchy string, a needle and some jelly bellies.  I'm going to wear mine to Easter breks tomorrow, but M ate his right away...

We also made some yummy cupcakes and adorned them with picks made using a free download from My Crafty Mess.

 

We are waiting for our brew to finish coloring our eggs overnite-but here is a teaser of what's to come:

            

 

I'll post pictures of how the eggs turned out tomorrow-some are looking very promising while other ones have completely bombed-such as the slimy cinnamon...yuck! I also forgot how disgusting cabbage smells when boiling-we had to throw open all of the windows and light some candles. We're really suffering for our craft here trying to avoid Yellow #5. Martha  and Stephanie walked us through this one.

Happy Spring, everyone!

Blissed Out

 

While I anxiously ride out the ten day period in which all dairy is supposed to leave my system, I am loading up on THIS which, if you are, or have ever been vegan, is your new best organic friend. 

I'm one handed tonite, gotta keep it brief.  Go try this yumminess at once!!!! More tie-dyed Oregonians revolutionizing my tastebuds.

A Love Letter to LLL

Dearest, Most Treasured and Informative La Leche League,

Where would I be without you? You have saved me once again from painful, confusing baby feeding issues! Will you marry me?

Love always, Pixie

Photo courtesy of LLLI.

Okay, so all of that business about reflux, lactose intolerance and colic, etcetera? I think my issue is none of them.  Bless LLL for teaching me about oversupply. Can you imagine how confusing it's been to have my sweetpea choking, sputtering, burping (or vurping, as B refers to the wet burp), then fussing, arching, crying and seeming otherwise miserable before, during and after eating? It's been a circus around here at times-but not all the time. (Queue mysterious music)

Believe it or not, just as a one hundred pound wet rat such as myself can produce an eight and a half pound baby, my little ta-tas produce enough milk to feed mine plus the neighborhood children, maybe more. I can have squirt-gun like fights with them (so watch your back, kiddies.) and apparently my poor little elf is drowning when I try to feed her from a milk ejection reflex that must feel like lying on her back with a garden hose plugged in. Poor thing! She's having to adjust by nibbling on me with a shallow latch-ouch!

Oversupply is often overlooked while all of those other things are blamed, and sometimes medication is even prescribed to fix issues that aren't the real issue at all.  And who needs more medication?

In this herbie home, I'm now hitting the sage tea, mint tea, feeding on one side only until completely empty, and contemplating who to tag with the other one-the supersoaker.

My hope is that my milk supply reduces a bit and little Miss can enjoy her meals in peace. And I can race back into the arms of my boyfriends, Ben and Jerry.  How I've missed my precious Pistachio Pistachio!  Perhaps I should write a love letter to them next...

Written on the Body

   

One of the many faces of Ivy-crashed out, mouth open.  We're so happy she's sleeping today.  Yesterday was from hell. I don't think she slept twenty minutes in a twelve hour stretch. And believe it or not we are still wrestling with that cockamamie virus that has been plaguing us for three weeks now. So I'm in crazed momma mode-is it colic? Is it reflux? Could it be that her throat hurts like mine does? Maybe it's just her immature digestive system...or what if it's her neck out of alignment from birth????

If I only knew what it was, mommy could fix it all up right. Right? Today we took her out for her first day out of the house. At sixteen days old, we decided it had better be the creamery.  I had coconut sorbet made with coconut milk since I'm kicking dairy to make sure she's not allergic or lactose intolerant. I had an oatmeal cookie to make myself feel better about it.

She rode in the car like a pro and crashed on me in her sleepy wrap sling while we were there, jamming out to Kim Carnes and Betty Davis Eyes and watching the dinner crowd slowly filter in. Miles had cookie dough with chocolate sauce. It was all I could do not to take pictures the entire time.  We were out-as a family of four, in our new life with each other.

Once home, we bathed and crashed ourselves. It had been a very fancy day.