art imitates life imitates art

Thinking, exhausting, trusting.

life

existence

create

love

imagine

deconstruction

humanity

joy

pain

brokenness

fulfilling

love

simple moments

joy

Thinking, wondering, believing.

I've spent a lot of time inside my head today.  Truth be told, I'm not always happy with what I find there.  Today's result was a bit more joyful than most.  Still I was wrestling with the questions that rattle around in my brain.  Most of them I'm happy to say will stay as thoughts in my crazy ol' mind!

 Some of them were spent trying to come up with something I can do on a daily basis to make the world a better place.  To do something daily that makes a difference to someone broken, in pain, suffering.  What more can I do.  Can I make a difference? Yes.  I have no money to give.  Can I still help?  I start close.

I  do this daily, I give to their tiny, gaining independence yet still SO needy persons.  To them I joyfully give with all of myself so they know into the deepest corners of their souls that they are loved, they are worth it.  They are special blessings.  

We are all broken in some way.  We are all hurting somewhere within.  What can I do?  I can bring my husband a cold drink as he sweats away creating in the garage.  I know I can give more to him, without expecting anything in return.  A pleasant smile from across the room even, a wink and smirk.  So that he knows his love has affected me, embraced my every cell.

I look outward.  People. Everywhere. They all need love.  The homeless man in the park every morning by swimming lessons.  How many people drive by him every day and ignore him.  How many times have I.

Still deep in thought Nathan looks up and says, "Look at the Toy Story clouds."  I look.  They are perfect puffy ones.  So begins my does art imitate life or does life imitate art thought stream.  I remember a discussion in college.  I always took the side of art imitating life.  Art is created as a reflection of the artist's emotions and view of a particular situation.

It's not really an answerable argument though because why to we call a life moment 'picture perfect.' Do we really mean 'life perfect'?  Well, life isn't perfect so maybe it can only be as perfect as a picture of it. 

I decided that the whole debate was flawed.  Art is created by life.  The canvas, stage, paper, music notes, clay, all must be filled in by the artist.  Life.  Art is the ultimate creation and the life of the artist is shown through it.  Just a small piece of perspective, a small piece of them.  Life.

Visuals of life around here...

Mommy's little helper.

Now in her big girl toddler bed.

Daddy's big helper.

Reflection

Domino art: "Me and Tyler"

I see Nathan using art to help him through the loss of our dog.  He was in pain near the end and the 'art therapy' must be helping, healing his heart.  Learning about the permanent emptiness that death brings is hard but he's been a trooper. 

A recipe for holiday tradition: Family and Love

Memories of childhood sometimes come forth as if they were another lifetime. It was so long ago. My brain cannot comprehend that I am indeed the same vulnerable little girl sitting on the dried wood of an empty wire spool needing a loving hand of guidance, support, stability to help me.

Other times those memories seem just to have happened. So vivid and clear are they that they pour out of every cell of my being. Flowing from those places they come, welling up a tear and turning mouth edges upward. They lay in wait to be called out by a smell, a feeling, a holiday or a photo.

In years past the Fourth of July meant family, homemade ice cream, fun and fireworks. A day to hover with excitement, (driving my mom crazy no doubt) while ice cream was created in the kitchen. An afternoon with my grandparents, ice and rock salts waiting longing for the year I'd be strong enough to turn the crank all by myself.

In such a hurry we start this life to become independent. I see this trait in my two year old especially, this desire to do things all on her own. Shoving away a helping hand with determination to do it all by herself.

I feel myself doing this at times with God just as I did with my own parents. Shoving away His gentle guidance, his steadying hands and insisting that I can do it on my own. I might succeed, I might even think I did it, it was all me. Deep down I know. If I’m honest, I know it is thanks to the one who created me; He alone does any good that pours from me.

His love was demonstrated during these times. This fellowship of family and love demonstrated (however imperfectly) the love of our Creator and the relationship he wants to have with us.

The years have blended together in my memory, as if each year's movie reel is played atop the previous. In some I have only a little sister, the rest of the reels a little brother too, later on Grandma is gone but the love passes on through the generations. It stays.

I do recall a yummy mint chocolate chip (my favorite) one year and a peach ice cream another. Mostly those details are long gone the lingering feeling of embrace remains. Embraced. Loved.

Grandma with her sweater draping her shoulders, often chilled even on the warmest of days.  She'd sit, content to observe the rhythms of us kids and the men and girls turning the sweet creamy goodness.

My Bobo holding the bucket still, adding leverage for the turning body. I wonder now, if we'd used that ice cream maker more often surely he'd have invented something to hold it down. Clamped it on or done something only his brain could jimmy rig figure out.  For the holiday fun he was happy to hold it for seemingly hours while we waited for that first soft, thick, melty bite.

The conversation for several of the years was over my head but I longed to understand. Usually patriotic music was playing in the house building up in each one of us a pride for our country. The evening ended with a BBQ meal and fireworks and lightning bugs and smells of bug spray. And I can't imagine it any other way.

... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Helping make the ice cream!

Presently, the Fourth of July is about family, fun, fireworks and homemade ice cream. Celebrating the reason settlers first braved the ocean and hardships to begin colonizing here....

Mayflower Compact

In the name of God, Amen. We whose names are underwritten, the loyal subjects of our dread Sovereign Lord King James, by the Grace of God of Great Britain, France and Ireland, King, Defender of the Faith, etc.

Having undertaken, for the Glory of God and advancement of the Christian Faith and Honour of our King and Country, a Voyage to plant the First Colony in the Northern Parts of Virginia, do by these presents solemnly and mutually in the presence of God and one of another, Covenant and Combine ourselves together into a Civil Body Politic, for our better ordering and preservation and furtherance of the ends aforesaid; and by virtue hereof to enact, constitute and frame such just and equal Laws, Ordinances, Acts, Constitutions and Offices, from time to time, as shall be thought most meet and convenient for the general good of the Colony, unto which we promise all due submission and obedience. In witness whereof we have hereunder subscribed our names at Cape Cod, the 11th of November, in the year of the reign of our Sovereign Lord King James, of England, France and Ireland the eighteenth, and of Scotland the fifty-fourth. Anno Domini 1620.

(The 'dread sovereign' referred to in the document used the archaic definition of dread—meaning awe and reverence (for the King), not fear.)

Waiting for fireworks!

...And a century and a half later declaring our independence with toddler like determination, thank God for John Adams and the others!  We have a country because of them.

The Declaration of Independence

Happy Independence Day America!

What is your recipe for a holiday tradition? I'd love to know.

Summer Nights

My friend Steph inspired me to write a quick haiku, and it was SO fun.  Read through the comments, they are great!

Evening baseball.

Sunshine becoming lightning

breathe deep, a rainbow!

I LOVE the look on my son's face in this photo as he just hit the ball.  A prideful smile.

Singing in the Rain

I get a bit crazy when cooped up in the house with the kids for a couple days in a row, as many of us do. Why do I always find it surprising when my kids start grating on each other’s nerves (and my own) and forget that they need to get out of the house too.

One challenging day when my son was a couple months old I decided to bundle him into his baby sling, wrapped us both in my jacket, grabbed my umbrella and headed out for a walk around the block in an autumn rain. It was soothing to both of us, the fresh air and the rhythm of my steps, soon I was literally singing in the rain. Both of us entered the house with a smidge more joy in our hearts and spring in our steps.

During one of our more recent rainy days, (of which we have had quite a few, thankyouverymuch) I decided our learning for the day was to be a walk in the rain. An opportunity for us to observe nature and what happens around our neighborhood, how things compare to sunny days.

We don our jackets and umbrellas heading out into what I would call a steady drizzle. Not half way down the block the rain stopped completely which gave us a chance to observe what happens when it stops raining too! So much learning, so little time. *cheesy grin*

The novelty of the umbrellas quickly wore off so I became a pack mule of sorts sliding them through the front pocket of my hooded sweatshirt. Along with my daughter on my hip for the last stretch to home after following her brother’s example rolling down a small (very wet) hill.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

We did see some interesting things, a dead worm being devoured by ants, water dripping off tree leaves, robins hunting for worms, to name a few. A few more observations: the rain made the petals of a neighbors tree that was in blossom fall; when we (and by ‘we’ I mean the kids) walked in the extra soggy grass around the park it sounded like we were in a swamp (my son even lost a shoe - laughing hysterically - to the squishy mud); lots of birds started singing; the air smelled nice and fresh.

I forced myself to let them be kids. To explore and laugh and chase birds across a baseball field. Inside I might have cringed, (several times) especially those few steps my son took in just his sock. On the outside I managed a smile, encouraging them to experience.

My most favorite observation that my son said as we meandered along was that the rain made everything look, "more beautifuller." After saying it he corrected himself aloud, ’the colors of everything look more beautiful, I mean."

I pondered that comment for the rest of the walk and many of these rainy days since. The rain did indeed make the colors more vibrant, the birds sing louder and the grass to grow faster. It was so green; almost what I imagined the emerald city to be like. The blooms of flowers were as beacons shining their colors as never before.

I begin to wonder (the deep thinker I am *wink*) if I let the rain in my life bring out the colors more vibrantly or do I cover them with grey.

I do.

I think to myself, most of the time,

I do.

These rainy days when nothing is going my way and I just want to stay in bed or yell at the world. These are the days that make the good days look even brighter. Without the grey, the purples and reds and yellows of the world would fade.

No, I cannot always see past myself to look out of the grey rain clouds, but when I do I see that there are a thousand colors out there. In every small moment stands something shining its light brighter because of the rain. These eyes need only to glance away from the grey to find it there, vibrantly singing.

l

Truth.

This morning as we were getting ready I was having a discussion with my son about the choices we make to be kind or hurtful. Acknowledging that we are very imperfect and cannot always do right by others, but even though a goal of perfection is indeed unattainable we still need to try in each and every situation to control ourselves and treat others with kindness.

In passing, I mention to my husband my incomplete list of family rules and a desire to hang them so we have a visual reminder of the behavior that is expected from all members of our home. Nathan sits quietly on our bed listening to this quick exchange. After a brief pause he asks, "what are the fruits of the spirit again Mommy?"

Together we answer, "Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control."

"See mommy, that can be our rules to do all these things."

Amen.

Oh boy. Oh my boy.

Well Yanks, move over cause this Mama's got a new favorite team!

My son woke up thrilled this morning, "Mommy today is Thursday May 27 and it's my very first big game." We went about the busyness of the day all the while the 'big game' on our minds. It rained on and off midday the conversation turned from "I can't wait" to "I hope it won't be cancelled." Soon enough the clouds began to part allowing yellow rays to dry the earth. "I think it's going to be okay," no more worries.

My son was beyond excited, over-the-moon, he had the biggest smiles I've seen. Putting on his uniform he yelled, "I'm a Dodger!" Then carefully instructing me, "You've got to remember to cheer for me, well not just me, but my whole team. Okay mommy, promise you'll root for my whole team, the Dodgers."

"I promise." (I might have been the loudest one.)

There were moments of confusion at first, after all this was the first time many of these kids had actually played a game of baseball. It is a confidence boosting league at this age so they all get to bat each inning and a game is three innings long. If they get out they can still run the bases, they are still little tykes after all. It's coach pitched, but if they miss 3 or 4 then they can hit off the tee, so pretty relaxed.

I was very proud of my little guy, he might be small for his age but he sure packs a punch, he hit two into the outfield! One at bat he had some trouble and didn't like it when Coach Dad brought over the tee but he pushed through it.

All in all it was a fabulous evening even with three trips to the porta-potty with my two year old. Yes, three excessive trips to the most germ infested place on the planet in one hour. I am so grateful there was a potty within twenty yards! Thank you God! (Oh and please protect us from all those germs, thank you!)  Hearing her little cheers for her brother, priceless!


Turning the world back a day.....


So we're all together now, it's yesterday. I'm usually pretty lenient about messes that are in bedrooms, as long as it stays there and doesn't spread to the rest of the house. A couple times a week I'll enforce a clean up or I might ask them to pick up a common item (dress up clothes, duplo blocks) if it seems out of hand. This was one of those times. I sent my son upstairs to clean up his legos. They had spread dangerously out of the corner where they are most often dumped and were oozing into the area where they become likely to damage a parental foot or heaven forbid knee at bed time.

It was one of those days where we didn't have much to do in the afternoon; I did some chores, played with my daughter, chatted with my husband and though it was taking my son awhile to clean up. I'm sure snack time will motivate him to finish up. In a fairly loud voice I call for anyone who wants a snack that has finished their chores. He pops his little head out to let me know that he is indeed cleaning but also getting distracted (his words not mine) and having trouble staying focused (again his choice of words). I decided to see just what would motivate him.

The verdict: nothing. He was so involved in Lego creation that he missed snack time, reading his favorite book, playing games, playing outside and the beginning of dinner. Dinner and hearing us pray was when I began hearing handfuls of legos clanking into the side of their bin. His creation was indeed something, and he said that he had WAY more fun picking up the legos and building with them rather than just dumping them into the bin.

I suppose this could be looked at as being inconsistent since I didn't enforce what I sent him up there to do. I did however enforce that he couldn't do anything else until his task was completed. Like I said it was an experiment, he is so slow moving and easy going about some things I just wanted to see how far it would go. Now I know, dinner. He won't go without dinner.

With full tummies we went up to admire his house and flying car. He was making some final adjustments while I snapped some shots. It seems all the booklets of directions are haphazardly strewn about as it has become much more fun to ‘build something from his very own head.’

Dear God,

I LOVE THIS BOY! His ability to make us laugh, his positivity, his hugs, snuggles and kisses. His interest in dirt and all things buggy and his willingness to dress his sisters dolls for her. His laugh is infectious, his strong will makes mine stronger and his rough boyness (while I don't always understand it) can be very protective of me and his baby sister. His smile amazing, his eyes show each sky and sun, his view and desire for learning and his personality are such a miracle. Thank you so very much for blessing our family with him. He rocks!

Yours,
Heidi

Alice Themed Apron

I've had a minor obsession with aprons lately.  I've made up a few different patterns since December, so when I was searching around on Google one day and found this Alice in Wonderland theme going on from Amy 's Tie One On I couldn't resist making one.

I knew I already had some white fabric in one of my fabric bins so I got to work.  I haven't made an apron from a pattern yet so why start now, I did take my daughter's measurements because I thought it would be darling on her.

Here she is modeling the apron and a bit of a pouty look.

My mom recently gave me some aprons she found going through boxes that were my Grandmother's.  They look hand made and the best we can figure my great aunt may have done the stitching but it's anyone's guess.  They are vintage in any event so I loosely modeled my pattern after one that I thought would fit this theme. 

Even though I'm sure my daughter would love pockets, I left them off because I liked the simple lines.  It was my first time sewing on piping and ric rac and I love the touch of Alice blue it adds to the dress.

This was such a fun project, I can't wait to see what the next theme will be.  Oh, and if you want to join in the fun, you have until May 1st to email your jpeg to Amy if you want to create an Alice apron too!

Spring Cleaning

Written March 31, 2010....

Most of us know the drill. After a windy, cold, wet winter our flower beds need a bit of a face lift. Crispy dull leaves thrown around by wintry winds caught beneath their budding branches, bushes begin to show signs of new life. Tiny green leaves eventually bursting forth in the warm spring sunshine.

So too, our minds and hearts can use a de-cluttering. A time to rid our hearts of the disarray that we hold onto which keeps us unnecessarily in bondage. Allowing ourselves freedom from the burdens that are too horrible to mention but to a select few on this earth. Ours are hearts that have these places, like the bases of my bushes, the burdens and guilt can get stuck there going seemingly unnoticed. Dull, in the dreary dark we cling instead of letting them go, completely letting Jesus pay that price for us - for it all, yes, even what we dare not mention.

As I put on last year’s well worn gloves (they ripped up a fair share of sod a year ago) I note the damage and think about buying a new pair. These are my gloves; my fingers know them, each finger hugged by the worn leather. They are known. They are mine. A new pair, certainly unknown, needed none the less.

So too is life with these burdens, I've held them all so long. I know them well, I own them, and I even chose them. Letting myself be forgiven for them? I don't know for sure what life will look like if I lay them all down at the foot of the cross. Is Jesus really big enough for all that? He really did become sin, He who knew no sin, for me. For me, for this! Yes, Heidi. For this! Yes, my head knows, why will my heart not let it go? Why will my own heart not forgive?

As I work, filling a box with crisp leaves, the smells bring me back to autumn for a moment. The dying. The death. Appropriate for this Easter week. I turn my face to the sunshine while putting a handful of leaves in the box and a warm smile crosses my face and goes deep into my soul.

I know that I must let these burdens die with Jesus, there on the cross. The price. Oh so costly. Paid by the One who didn't deserve it. First the death, but after the death of autumn and the cold, endless winter, a celebration of life and resurrection!

I begin pulling out grasses and rearranging the rock border, man the grass roots go on forever. I follow the root for as far as I can and it seems never to end.  Finally it breaks in my hand and I leave it, knowing in a few more weeks I'll have to pull it again.

I aknowledge that though these roots may not seem to end, God's love indeed has no end. Never. Always there, always pouring it out into my heart. I am the only one that cuts it off to me, He will always give it. I will have to accept it. Is it possible to replace these burdens with love? How on earth can I let myself, my wretched self be loved by God? Even more so, knowing how much God loves me, how can I not love myself? Not a selfish love but a love of someone that God made who has a purpose and who is special. Me. I am special in the eyes of God. I am loved by God. A bud forming right there, a sign, healing is beginning.

The sun is warming my back as I work and makes my dull mommy hair shine as it hangs beside my face. Pulling more weeds I stack a rock pile of random stones.

The Son, who rose victorious, can shine an even greater light in my heart. He has conquered this life and rose victorious. He alone can heal these wounds and in the four months since I have given them up to Him, miracles have happened. Miracles. I couldn't do in years what He has now begun.

My mind wanders as I make my way down the bed; suddenly I look at the progress I've made in such a short time. This chore last year was endless because it hadn't been done the two years prior. I guess some things get overlooked during pregnancy and with a small baby. (Just a few!) I remember how demanding this was last year both physically and time consuming. Grateful, I am amazed with how well it is going and how much better it begins to look rather quickly.

At this commencing of my journey really forgiving, really loving, really giving it all up, I am encouraged to think that as the years go by, continually laying all my burdens down the healing will continue. Each year, each week, each minute that passes means it will become easier and more wonderful to live life forgiven. Breaking the bondage. Truly knowing that life is worth the living because of the Son. The Son who shines his love on even me.

****

Much of this I had as head knowledge but I had really been struggling with unbelief for the past year. The beginning of 2010 has shown a great healing and incredible belief. I am in awe of God and his perfect timing.

*****

Something I've been wanting to join in on for awhile now...





 
1) Jesus, my savior, whose love is never ending.


2) My husband's warm lengthy hugs, and knowing just when one is needed.

3) Kids singing, "We are the pirates, who don't do anything" in silly voices.

4) God's strength in sleepless nights with sick kids.

5) Children, oh my children how I love you both to the moon and back.

6) "Mommy, just one more thing to say." At bedtime.

7) Sewing button holes on three little girl shirts.

8) Watching a movie while sewing 9 buttons on to those little girl shirts, and tidying a Spiderman appliqué on one boy shirt.

9) A husband who cooks dinner, yummy yummy dinner.

10) Children who during Mommy's 10 minute shower turn the downstairs into a rocket ship and outer space.

11) Children scrubbing with mommy 6 walls, one cabinet, one fridge door and floor clean of their space creations.

12) Even though I tend toward more natural cleaners, today I am SO thankful for that magic eraser and that it really does remove black crayon from paint.

13) A freshly mowed lawn in time for a rainy day.

14) The sun making an appearance at the end of a rainy grey day.

15) Raindrops on my face.

16) One lonely tulip blooming, knowing his friends are not far behind.

17) Living in the time of sewing machines and self-cleaning ovens.

18) An illness beginning on the eve of a spontaneous road trip to visit family. And a road trip postponed until children are back to their healthy, bouncy selves.

19) Peanut butter and chocolate chips, eaten together, on the couch while children are asleep.

20) Another amazing and glorious day to praise our creator!

21) Wearing your dress shoes to play in mommy's flowers!

22) Juicy apples

23) Dandelions picked by little fingers just for me!

24) Husband vacuuming the entire house!

25) Little boys conquering the world!

Be still and know that I am God.

Happy Easter!

A Granny and Grampy photo collage