33 minutes late...

... Thought I was gonna skip out today? Yeah, me too. But then I just couldn't bring myself to do it. Rough day. But it ended well. Got some things accomplished, and here's a sketch:

Honestly, though, I don't have time to do these I over and over until I'm satisfied. It is hard for me to push the 'post' button most days. Ok. Fine. Just an exercise.

tonight. this morning. guacamole. and apples

Guacamole. I'm happy to announce that tonight there will be guacamole. Recently I discovered that, not only do I adore guacamole, but I also make some fantastic guacamole. I know!!! All these wasted years...

On to my cute newly-four-year-old. This morning, while surveying him with wonder (all my kids amaze me with their existence, but I have a SON, and that is slightly extra amazing), I said to him, "are you going to get married some day?" And he replied with a smile, "yeah...", and I half to myself continued, " you're going to find a girl you love and marry her.." He calmly replied, "you're the girl I love. I'm going to marry you." AaaHHHH. I would've liked to leave it at that, but I told him that someday he'd feel differently. He doesn't believe me. And that's ok, for now I'll take it.

Crayon and apples. Don't turn your nose up at what you've got on hand!

cranky face

So my kids are getting on my nerves. I was up a lot in the night, coughing, and I'm gonna blame my grumpiness on that. But, if I'm being honest with myself, it isn't really the reason. I am just impatient by nature, and my kids are slow and pokey, and day-dreamy. They are imaginative and thoughtful, and always getting distracted by one another. I don't always enjoy that. But it is part of what makes them wonderful. Last night Rowan came out from bed to inform me that her elbows "felt irritated". I didn't really find it funny at the time, and I sent her and her irritable elbows back to bed. But these little things are good things, rich things. So I sat myself down with paper and a ballpoint pen, and a little round mirror, and First Aid Kit. Those ladies always soothe my ruffled feathers. Here is my cranky face. I feel much better now. What did I tell you... life-giving creative outlet. Cranky stays on the paper, and now I'll bring my renewed appreciation for the small ones into lunchtime.

today's five minutes

Sat down to sketch my small boy, while watching the Incredibles; this is as far as I got. He noticed me there, so naturally he is snuggling close, and I've only got a view of the top of his oversized head. Boy, does he ever need a haircut!

and life...

I have my hand on Dan's calf as he plays on the floor with he kids, building Legos. I can feel a vein, pulsing with faint but vital rhythm, a miracle to my mind. It makes me think of when the twins were born, cut from my abdomen with a scalpel, perfect and tiny, round headed, fuzzy shouldered. Alive with a mysterious life, that seemingly sprung from nothing inside of me, grew, started kicking and making themselves known.

I can never seem to touch this mystery, get my hands on it. Kids, where there were no kids. A husband who feels like a part of me, when I didn't grow up with a soul mate. A story that changed and moved and has more chapters ahead than have yet been read. I sit back and look wonderingly at these four other people who are intertwined in my heart, woven in and around, closely laced. This is what I am amazed by today. It doesn't mean that I don't lose my temper and yell sometimes, and it doesn't mean that I go through my days serenely sure that I am doing exactly what I am supposed to be doing. It just means that I am trying to notice the wonder among all the dead pine needles on my living room floor.

There. 5 min drawing, ok more than that, but whatever, it's just an exercise, right? even if my favorite part is the shadows from my arms trying to snap a picture.

A Year

This year.  What a long, weary road.  And so beautiful. Beauty has crystalized the tears that fell, and gilded the edges of all of our storm clouds.  I see results of good efforts and answered prayers, and children who demonstrate faith and intelligence and kindness.  I've known sweat and anxiety and depression and loss.  I've known community and grace and reconciliation and generosity. I've lived, sometimes well, and at other times not so well. Pretty average, maybe, but I feel very rich in the permanent things.

I'm going to make some New Years resolutions.  To write and to draw and to paint.  I will not let life and circumstances bulldoze some of the most life-giving creative outlets that I could have.  I'm going to try to write something everyday, hopefully here.  I'm also going to draw a 5 min something-or-other every day, as well.  Which I may also post here.  It would be a good way to archive my progress, since I tend to lose everything...  

First 5 min sketch:

some things just shouldn't be true

Deep breath.  I am trying to unpack some thoughts here. My mind and heart have been swirling lately; doing a bit of a dizzy dance, round and round, trying to grasp an idea that doesn't make a whole lot of sense.  I am reminded that this world is so very broken.

9 days ago my family lost a member.  A beautiful, young, vibrant, graceful woman.  Natasha was my cousin, the daughter of my Mother's youngest sister. She was diagnosed with non-Hodgekin's lymphoma 10 months ago.  This was a shock in itself, but we all thought this fearless girl who really seemed to live life to the fullest would pull through. It wasn't in her to give up.  And she didn't.  But somehow this happened.  She was 30.  I am not really getting it.  But I know those who were closest to her, especially her fiance, with whom she shared a home and 8 wonderful years, are suffering a profound and horrible daily loss.  I have not lost my soul mate. 

I saw her more in this last year than I had probably seen her since she was 1.  I was blessed to have her live in this area, the first time I have ever had extended family within 30 minutes.  I didn't take proper advantage of that.  It was as if, having lived my life up until a few years ago without having cousins or aunts and uncles around more than once a year, I didn't quite know how to bridge the gap that had suddenly become so small.  I have been absorbed in parenting, and allowing myself to be preoccupied and overwhelmed.  

But now there's this.  I missed out.  I could have known her better.  She was like a sponge, always learning.  On the few occasions I got to really chat with her without the chaos of large family gatherings, she asked so many questions. Walking through the house, she looked at art work and asked me about printmaking processes, woodcuts, etchings, and other artsy stuff.  She was such an interesting person, and confident, but she didn't talk about herself.  She was born in Puerto Rico, lived in Kentuky, grew up in Alaska, went to college in Minnesota, taught English in Japan.  She was a singer and a musician.  She was kind and soft-spoken, but  brave and principled.  

Through her cancer battle, she didn't stop planning, living, thinking of others.  She got engaged, and together, she and Garrett planned to move to Ithaca in August, where he had been accepted to graduate school.  Life went on.  Right after her diagnosis, she cut off her long hair, and went to Puerto Rico for a wedding.  She celebrated.  Here she is with her sister Naomi, at that wedding, I think.  She was so beautiful.  She kicked fear to the curb.  May I learn from her example.  May I learn.