light for an adjustment

I'm having one of those days where my kids can't do anything right. You know, where they are just bad and it has nothing whatsoever to do with the fact that I'm cranky and preoccupied...

Right. Since, as the sole adult in the house while Dan is at work, it's my job to set the tone, you all know that I'm full of crap. Full up. So, what better way to make a switch in my soul than to shine a light on it, and really see what a jerk I'm being.  

Hopefully after a pile of toast (for real, I think toast might be the most perfect food), and some more coffee, not to mention a little quiet reflection on my cranky affliction, there shall be an adjustment.

Adjustment maintained, sort of. I'm not going to make a whole new post for the mural today, so here's an edit/addition to today's text. Bird on a branch.

bits

Watching Dead Poet's Society, and it's still so good. A lot of old memories are popping up, which is funny, but to be expected.  

I feel cranky in an unrelated way.  I have been struggling with a fairly bad attitude for the last couple of days, not with life in general, just with some judgement in my heart.  Even now, I'm justifying my feelings to myself.   I'm right, I know how people should act, etc etc etc, but sheesh, it's not really my job to hold on to these things.  Let it go, right or wrong, there's no room for this silliness. Life is too full of bike rides and giggles and shiny clean stove tops, and pretty trees and snuggles. 

And trees to scribble.

Bird, Vacuum, Baby. not what you'd expect.

I'm pretty excited about the fact of Imagination.  Without it, three kids wouldn't combine the influences of The Incredibles, Wild Kratts, and Word Girl into three super hero alter-egos named respectively: Bird Lady, Vacuum Man, and Baby Lady. 

Mm-hm.  Bird Lady, somewhat predictably, can fly, but she also dresses like a bird. I think she tweets too.  Vacuum Man, now he vacuums fast, in fact, he vacuums up the mess left by bad guys 'in a snap'.  Meaning he's really that fast. Faster than the speed of light.  And Baby Lady.  Yes, I left her for last on purpose.  Now, don't judge my kids, people, their understanding is limited, and they don't quite fathom the implications of this superpower.  Baby Lady shoots out babies at the bad guys. Like missiles.  Maybe they are baby-dolls, maybe they are real babies.  I didn't ask for clarification.  But there is a picture of a baby on the belly of her suit, from whence the babies fly out.  There really isn't any more to say about it, but Laser Duck has company.  

So, Imagination.  Without it, I wouldn't be laughing so hard the tears stream down...  

Quick sketch of European weeping beech... This tree makes me scribble, as you've seen. Ballpoint pen on Bristol.

books and a tree

 I don't read healthfully. I devour books, live and breathe them, and grieve their loss when I am finished.  It is hard for me to function in real life when I care about the well-being of a character.  It is ridiculous.  I love to read, but my addictive personality can't seem to pay attention to both book-world and reality. 

I really hate the feeling of knowing that I need to do something, like make dinner, or put the kids in the bath, but there are two more pages in the chapter.... and just five more minutes won't hurt, right?  

I begin to begrudge my real life the attention it needs... "So much of what I see reminds me of something I've seen in a book, when, shouldn't it be the other way around?"

So I am trying to set myself realistic goals, and reward myself with a chapter. Clean until lunch time, then sit down for some book time.  It's working pretty well this week. We're always seeking balance, aren't we? Or not seeking it, and suffering the consequences. I don't think the achievement of balance is even possible, but in seeking it, and being aware, we get healthier. And it gets easier. A little.

Little leaf linden.  Pastel on Bristol.

the gorgeous ordinary

Dan's been checking the blog for new posts every day, and I believe he is getting annoyed at my lackadaisical attitude.  But let's face it, I am tired.  And lazy.  And I feel guilty when I take time to draw if the house is a mess.  And the house. Is. A mess.

But I knocked out four hours on the second mural today, and that I can feel good about, because it's big, and I made progress, and it's for someone else, and there's that small matter if it also being paid work.  So no guilt there.  

About the house.  I am ok with general upkeep on a regular week.  But change up the schedule, send me away for a weekend, put my kids in camp, add on extra laundry loads, and I am thrown for an awful loop.  I'm not sure why. I get overwhelmed and cranky, and I think a bit depressed.  If it's actually depression, though, it's mild, because I can get out of it with a bit of effort, loud music, and some headway made in housecleaning.   

But its so very easy to slip back in.  I'm cranky with my small boy, who is just asking me annoying questions to keep my focus on him, to engage me in conversation.  He doesn't mean to be annoying.  And really, he's not, he's just four.  So while I'm driving, I reach behind me to his little leg, and squeeze it, and let him know that my focus is on him, and I love him, and I'm trying again.  He takes my hand in both of his, and presses his honest little lips to my palm.  I can feel his unbelievable bouncy cheeks on my fingers.  And just like that, I'm back in the moment. 

I'm tired this morning, driving the girls to horse camp.  And Viv tells me that provolone cheese is "one dimensional".  What?  This starts a good conversation about one dimensional versus two-dimensional, and I am impressed with both my six-year-old's recall, and her awesome Kindergarten teacher.  Back in the moment.  Why would I ever leave it?

Rowan gives me a super long kiss on my cheek at bedtime tonight.  I ask her if she thinks longer is better, and she explains that it's like a gas tank, and she just put in lots of love.  I'm not sure if my heart just constricted or grew a grinchy size, but I'm back in it.  Now to just stay in it a little longer, clean the kitchen, and watch a movie with my best friend.  This won't be hard.  These moments are a gorgeous strand of ordinary, dazzling beauty.

mural detail. Long shadows, clasped hands, dancing feet:

Things that kill me. In the best way.

In no particular order:

When Genevieve makes slow swimming motions coming out of sleep.

Jimmy Fallon

When Jude chirps at me in passing, communicating that he would like a kiss before I continue doing whatever it is I'm doing.

Grunty newborns

Rowan's subtle lisp that developed upon the loss of both top front teeth.

The Civil Wars.  Oh, listening bliss.http://m.youtube.com/#/watch?v=MnkM_ebv9BI&desktop_uri=%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DMnkM_ebv9BI

Listening to music like that while drawing, and feeling deeply right and moved and happy.  Kills me.

struggle with balance

This is what I would draw, if I could manage it...

Today is a day of struggle.  Mental wrestling, of trying to be the person I want to be, but also minding my own business.  I can't tell people how to run their businesses, right? I can't do much about their choices, except to offer suggestions, an even then, unsolicited advice is not always a great way to go.  I can't control the things that I want to control, and I need to let it go. Although I do have to sometimes speak up.

Oh, balance, where are you? I'd like to get my grubby paws on you.  Why do I feel so selfish when I want to paint or draw? I really do. We've been away for the weekend, and now the house is filled with camping gear, needing a home. My mind is pulled in a bunch of directions, and I can't seem to focus enough to dash off a drawing. With my grubby paws. And now midnight has come and gone, and I'm looking at 1am.  Not good, not when the shorties will be all over me in the morning! Off to bed I go.