home is where one starts from

professional family member

i've been joking the last few days about dedicating a year of my life to being a professional family member...meaning i would travel around, joining different families for a couple months each. this morning i've begun to think it might actually be a pretty good idea.

it would work like this: they provide me a corner of their house to live, space to paint, and maybe feed me a couple meals. they would also give me an art show in their home at the end of my stay. by art show, i mean they'd have over all their friends, neighbors, co-workers, & random people they know to buy the artwork i'd made while living with them. then i would fly away to my next family.

in return i would help them out, enjoy their company, and make them a piece of art. i love painting for friends. i love cleaning things, especially dishes. i can be messy, but i would try very hard to keep my messes contained. i'm a wretched cook in general, but i can handle breakfast foods. i like kids a lot, so i would teach their children things (related to art). i would also make things with their kids, and gladly watch them from time to time.

i see it as a way for me to travel around a bit, but mostly to spend real time with people i consider dear. i already have a few sisters i'm planning on doing something along these lines with, so other friends and family should really consider having me for a while.

snowflakes

the weekend in pictures for keith, our dad, who has been stuck at work in another town. while he's been helping people breath in the hospital, we've been doing snowed-in things...

we made snowflakes a couple days ago to call the snow. it came.

attempts to make a snowman

masks we spent the day making

the congregation who attended our church service this morning. i gave a sermon.

a list

lately i keep thinking about how much i love my painting apron. this started a mental list of other things that make me glad, which i wrote down today. i think we should all make lists of loves from time to time.

1. aprons
2. carrying things around in aprons...like apples or puppies
3. speech impediments (i don't have one, but i like when other's do)
4. dust particles in light
5. word combinations that stick in my mind and repeat themselves till something new comes along
6. peanut butter (especially when melted), thai peanut foods, and peanut m&ms
7. this combination: music, coffee, and a fire
8. terribly large messes when cooking, or painting, or playing in mud
9. stories with pictures
10. people who read the words aloud while i'm looking at the pictures
11. anything feathery or furry i can hold
12. the noses of cows, camels, horses, llamas, etc...
13. warm colors
14. children when they sleep
15. showers that are at the same time baths
16. having some things upside down, backwards, or in the wrong places
17. dramatic weather
18. thumbs--their shape in general and their muscle pad on the palm
19. pretending when it makes drudgery enjoyable
20. silliness
21. knee high socks
22. colored barettes
23. large odd sculptures in public places
24. being very high up, like on a rooftop
25. unexpected discoveries
26. figure drawing and abstract painting
27. red clay in a newly plowed field
28. names and their meanings
29. lanterns, mobiles, window stars, and candles (anything that glows or hangs from the ceiling)
30. personality tests
31. symbols
32. the egyptian profile
33. places to be with people that don't involve shopping
34. the world inside rust on an old truck
35. episcopal churches
36. incense
37. hiding places
38. the things that can be found under rocks
39. moods where i'm content to watch light and shadows
40. fog over mountains that makes me think dinosaur heads just might pop out of the clouds
41. naps, but not alone
42. cancelations
43. the idea of the desert
44. walking to the mailbox
45. costume jewelry
46. suggestions of books, films, and music (from people who know what i would like)
47. riding trains, planes, and boats
48. being the passenger
49. moments

inspiration

these are the canvases and panels my 3 little sisters are painting on right now. they like to paint, but that's not what is inspiring them with these pieces. ever since bailey and marley each successfully sold a painting through my blog, they have looked on painting with new eyes. they want money. i have so much trouble painting for money. i need money, but it's not what makes me want to paint. the other night they all ran up to my room excited to start their paintings, so they could finish them, and have me post them here. i will soon, but i'm making them do them well, so it may take them longer than they like to be done. marley runs up and down the stairs with her painting asking what else could make it better. i like these kids.

vocation

one of my favorite nuns, sister wendy, says a sign of vocation is that you need it. the priest at my church in massachusetts once described vocation as: the place where our greatest gifts meet the world's greatest needs.

i've been out of college a year now, and i can't say i have much of a career up and running. my ideal job? i get images of a coffee shop/bookstore setting, with painting mixed in somewhere. but living in the countryside has sort of made even something like that impossible. so i've been practicing the life of an artist nun like sister wendy. i can honestly say, future career prospects never once crossed my mind in college. i didn't like thinking about being a professional anything, or tying myself to any particular job. thoughts of my future were very vague: a lot times involving travel/missions, art, people in some ministry capacity...that's about as far as i got. so anyway, one year after graduation i've started thinking about having a vocation. i want to know where my gifts meet deep needs. i want to know a job i need. nothing has ever seemed to fit, except for recently something may have found me. from my internship at the hospital i've discovered a job i think i could really love...which was actually suggested to me a couple a years ago, but i blew the idea off. it's called a "child life specialist". they do great things:

- they use play and recreational art therapy, and interpersonal communication to minimize the stress a child experiences while confined to a hospital or other traumatic health situations

- they act as a child's advocate by communicating to the health care professionals the child's fears of tests, treatments, instruments, etc. their goal is to comfort the child

- they act as a spokesperson and liaison for the hospitalized child's family by communicating family concerns to the medical team. they also explain the child's medical status to the family

- they advise members of the child-care team the type of behaviors, communication style and diet that will help ease the child's trauma during medical tests, treatments and examinations

so future ideas for myself: help family (gladly) where i have already promised, move to somewhere else (near a sister), take psychology courses and volunteer at a hospital, move again (or something like that), and work on becoming a child life specialist...and whatever i'm doing, always be of use where i am.

pen and ink

i listen better when i draw...at least that's what i tell people because i have a difficult time keeping my hands still. i draw when i wait. i draw while i listen to the sermon at church. i draw while i talk on the phone. i draw on magazines and newspapers, on scrap paper, and on computer paper. i carry tiny moleskine journals everywhere i go (thanks to the friend that introduced me). i draw on my hands and arms.
so these drawings the products of my fidgety-ness. i get some ideas for paintings from these little papers. i also make paintings out of them. this assortment of drawings are from the past year in no particular order...and sorry for the photos that turned out a little blurry (i didn't feel like taking them again). if you notice, there are a lot of profiles. they are what i draw in default mode.

leaving trails of drawings seems to run in the family. these 2 belong to my sisters. the mermaids are carson's (7), and the girls are my gypsy's trademark. she leaves them everywhere she goes.

snowed in

..or rather, iced in for the weekend, which equals: 6 movies. 4 last night with the kids(josieandthepussycats, bicentennialman, ellaenchanted, escapetowitchmountain). marley now wants to be a rock star. carson wants to make magic with a harmonica. i want to talk to animals.
snowed in also equals: an art lesson with the children on how to make faces, naps and threats of naps, more movies tonight, dogs and cats all inside to escape the cold, but best of all a church service planned for tomorrow morning (we are already expecting not to make it). marley has the sermon, bailey is in charge of the music, and carson will do the announcements and prayer. carson also thought we should pour cups of apple juice for communion which she called "the community"..."we cannot forget the community," she kept saying. somehow being stuck makes an ordinary place quite lovely.

my bystander effect

i've collected a few vivid memories from the last 4 or so years that mark pivotal life moments. they are odd---because they don't include any of the people, places, or events i would imagine life-changing scenarios to include. instead, in these memories, i usually find myself in strange places, with strangers, and very little actually happens. this gives them a surreal, timeless feeling. they were moments that allowed me to step outside of my life, and myself, and see something new.

in my favorite of these memories i was passing through the atlanta airport one night alone. i met a couple with triplet baby boys, and we talked about family. they ended up in the seats behind me on the plane, so i let them know i'd be glad to help with their kids during the flight. a few minutes later the dad tapped me on the shoulder and passed a sleepy boy up to me. we each got to hold one during the hour flight. i watched mine breath and flutter his eyes while he slept. it's hard to explain why this moment was so important to me...except strangers trusted me with their child, and more than that, i was allowed to hold a stranger for a whole hour. while he slept i thought about his life and who he would grow up to be. it was so intimate, we could have been related. for a moment i touched how connected i am to everyone. no one is a stranger.

that ranks as my very sweetest memory with any person i never knew. one of the most disturbing, has actually been the most changing for me. it started an assault on my apathy.
i have developed a sensitivity to being sensitive, but for most of my life i haven't been too sharp in this area. in fact, i've beaten myself up a great deal in the past for being apathetic about everything. it took a lot to make me care. tragic stories didn't move me--they fascinated me. people's pain evoked discomfort if it got too close to me. the way i personally dealt with pain was shutting off, tuning out. so when i saw other's hurting, i kindly ignored them. but this memory started an important change in how i care and don't care.

i was sitting in a busy coffee shop with friends one cold boston day. we were seated downstairs in a basement area with a bunch of other people, because all the seats upstairs were taken. so we were eating and talking when a man behind us fell off his chair. the room quieted, and we all watched him try to stand up. shaking, he made it to his knees but fell right back over. his arms were too weak to catch him, and he hit the ground with his face. this happened an unbearable number of times before he finally made it to his feet. then grasping chairs and rails he took to the stairs and slowly made his way out of the coffee shop. and we all watched. no one moved an inch. i hardly breathed.

soon the room resumed it's chatter. no huge deal. my friends and i couldn't believe the interruption we'd just witnessed. and the rest of the day walking around the city, taking the train home, snuggling down into my cozy dorm--i couldn't stop thinking about that man. i was so disturbed...as well as embarrassed for being so bothered. i told myself: things like this happen all the time in the city. the man was probably on drugs and dangerous. i couldn't have helped him, and besides, there were others in the room who should have helped him. there were men in the room who should have jumped to help.

but i couldn't believe no one did anything. nothing, but watch. what really tore me apart inside was that i didn't do anything, and worse, i knew i didn't have it in me to do anything. this was the kind of person i was. i had actually thought to myself while he was hitting his head on the ground: i should help him, but it would be so humiliating. i was too embarrassed help. it wasn't impulsive for me to reach out to a hurting person.

i noticed a difference between me and my friend beth who talked to the bums in the city, and ran to catch up with a woman who dropped something out of her purse. so i told beth i was upset about the coffee shop man. being the good psychology major that she was, she told me i should read about something called the "bystander effect". it is a real psychological phenomenon that people are less likely to respond to an emergency when other people are present. i was absolutely fascinated. i read tons of reports where people had been injured or attacked in public places, and no one stopped to help them. as i read stories and case studies, i kept thinking: i can't believe these wretched people! but then i remembered i was one of those unbelievable bystanders.

i understand why people don't do anything in situations like that. it's dangerous. if no one else is reacting, it's easy to assume nothing is really wrong. if you respond and it isn't actually an emergency, you might look like a complete fool. and besides, we are busy, distracted, and concerned with our own safety. it makes sense, but for myself, i can't rationalize not being a person that helps. i have to be someone who would impulsively jump at the mere look of distress in another's eyes. i have to learn to forget myself.

a couple of weeks ago i was at the hospital making art with the kids on the cancer floor. at the end of the day, i only had an hour before i left, and though it wasn't enough time to get any projects going, i stopped by a little boy's room. i had met him and his mother once before, a couple days after they found out his diagnosis. there was something about them that weighed on me, and kept them on top of my prayers. i caught her just as she was returning from a smoke break. she said she couldn't stop leaving her son to take them. it was the only thing she could do. i gave her beads so she could at least have something else to hold and do while she passed the time. then we talked for the remainder of my hour. actually, she poured herself out to me...her anxieties and fears and troubling memories. and as she told me her heart, i reached up, grabbed her hands, and held them while she spoke. it was an impulse.

fedex

i love passing the fedex truck as it speeds down our winding country roads. i always cross my fingers and hope it's heading for our house. i don't care so much about packages (though i love them) as the thought of fedex coming all the way for me. we are at least 20 minutes from all towns, and 40 minutes from the real towns. so when i see the fedex coming down our dirt road i know it's had quite a journey. it makes me feel like i'm in "cast away". i love it. especially when it comes only to deliver a book that cost $3 on amazon.

amys

i have 2 amys that are dear to me. i saw them both this past weekend, and it left me feeling very blessed. i love who they are to their families, and to my family, and to me. i'm glad to know them, and call them friend. "amy" means: beloved...perfectly appropriate.

blessings

"You will go out with joy. And be led forth with peace; The mountains and the hills will break forth into shouts of joy before you, And all the trees of the field will clap their hands." (Isaiah 55:12)

i tend to sign my letters with the words "blessings". i also use "bless" quite frequently in my prayers. it is my way of praying God's goodness, grace, presence, over a person's life. sometimes i say it because i don't know what specifically to pray for them, but i've always seen it as a life-giving word.

every january my church has a service of blessing. the pastor speaks about a blessing from scripture and then prays it over the congregation. each family is also prayed for with the blessing by a church leader. it is a very encouraging, empowering service. this year's verse was isaiah 55:12. the words "peace" and "joy" were the emphasis. our actions and decisions should come out of God's presence of peace and joy in our lives rather than out of our fear.

i've been thinking it might not be a bad idea to start praying actually scriptural blessings over people rather than just using the word alone. biblically blessings are powerful words that cannot be taken back. they are sacred. so i'm starting here with isaiah, praying peace and joy over people even (and most especially) when it makes no sense circumstantially.

a train to james, and bushes that burn

i took a train to raleigh this past weekend to spend some time with my sister jamie. we met the christmas she was 9 and i was 10. the second time we saw each other was at our parent's wedding. she moved into my room, and we played dolls and barbies together. i was thrilled because my sister katie (a year older than me) had already outgrown dolls.
jamie and i wrote letters to each other during school signing them with names from "pride and prejudice". i was elizabeth and she was jane. later we abandoned those characters for new ones. jamie became samwise, and i became frodo. both fictional friendships are fairly good representations of our's. we are opposites who appreciate and laugh at each other's differences. jamie has a great sense of style; i get made fun of for my clothing combinations. i am of the quieter type; she's a talented talker. i'm restless; she likes being settled. i'm chaotic in my ways; she keeps things in order. she is full of common sense; i am not. jamie gets annoyed with too much abstract thought; i prefer it.
one thing we share however, is our love for doing absolutely nothing important together. we were thrilled to spend an entire day walking around downtown raleigh, not necessarily going in any stores.
my favorite moment from our weekend was at a coffee shop downtown. after walking and talking, we finally settled into a good conversation over coffee. we are always open and honest, but this talk went farther. it was real (i thought) in a healing way.
she's been praying a couple months now for a "burning bush" concerning a decision she has to make. she won't make it without knowing God's will in it. i'd been praying for her burning bush, and i even sent her a few in the mail...but i didn't realize the beauty of her prayer until our coffee shop conversation. i don't know if she even knows what she's asking for, but i think a burning bush goes beyond asking for a clear word from God. it's asking for what is right--asking to for feet on holy ground.
i accidentally slept through the first few minutes of the new year. i wasn't conscious as it rolled in. maybe that wasn't such a bad way to greet the year--in a state of complete (though not intentional) surrender. i only began to feel the new year's presence a couple of days into it, when a familiar ache returned to me. everything felt the same, but i knew i wasn't the same me from last january, and i needed something new. i began asking God: should i stay or should i go? either way i would need new vision. either way the what's, when's, and where's are unknown to me.
talking to jamie, i saw that we are asking for the same thing in our very different circumstances. we don't want to move on if it is not to holy ground. we don't want to stay if it is not what's right. we need vision. we need God's eyes to see the flames.
i know i've changed over the last year to even be asking these things. it's one thing to pray, and another to pray God's thoughts. i ask to be doing the second. my wants have slimmed down to simply: what is right. i want to be right with God. i want to be righteous.
before my brother grant went back to college after his winter break, i asked him a question that nags me. "grant, when you are old and at the end of your life, and you're looking back on it all, what will matter?"
he told me he wouldn't look back on his life. i told that was not only a bad answer, but not an option as an answer. so i rephrased my question: "what matters now in your life that will also matter then?"
he thought, and then said he would look back on the legacy that he'd left through his kids.
not a terrible answer. but, "what if you don't have kids?" or, "what if you are a terrible father?" and, "does the physical act of populating the earth give you a legacy?" "does it even matter if you leave a legacy"
i wouldn't blame him if he was annoyed with my questions, but i couldn't stop throwing them at him. i wanted him to think about what he's doing, because i can't stop thinking about the importance in what i do. i need to know what things are truly important now, and if they are the same things that are important eternally. i want to know what things are good and worthy of devotion. i'm slowly getting a clearer picture of such things. they are not necessarily very glamorous or important-sounding. there are a few i've begun think matter: offering my full self to a moment--trying (if not poorly) to be truly present, enjoying beauty for it's sake rather than focusing on the pain of my inability to capture it, loving those near to me with open eyes and ears and lavish affection, looking for the widows and orphans who are more numerous than i would have guessed, and respecting my ache rather than just wishing to replace it with contentment.
i can't claim to be talented at living well, but i desire to live rightly. i never want to stop longing, looking, asking for things new. i want to always pray for burning bushes, and take trains to those dear to me.

painting persons

this was a christmas present i made for my sister-in-law michelle of her husband and child. i want to do more paintings like this. i'm actually working on 3. they are hard for me, but also very good for me to be making.

the painting... (acrylic, pastels, micah, string, and other things on a small piece of wood)

...and the photo it came from

suns set

for the most part i am not fond of sunset photos. they are too calendar for me. i have a difficult time believing they are real. they make me think of thomas kinkade. they all seem to be computer enhanced. they are too perfect.
but i've seen perfect sunsets, and they do compel me to try and capture them in some way. i want a photo to tell how the sky became a warm, yellow ocean swarming with cloud islands. i want to catch every crisp line of tree against a blazing red sky.
but pictures can't tell how my hills and fairy skies make me feel at dusk. maybe it's enough to know they make everyone feel transformed to other worlds. i suppose that's why there are so many pictures of sunsets. and i suppose all things are true and perfect in the moment. i forget moments can't be kept.
but still, here are attempts to keep a piece of the awe.

the sun on a horizon often brings this song to mind:
And she said "There, look through the trees,
The sun always shines, always on time,
Dare, rest on your knees
And in a prayer, follow me there." (the connells)

or imagery from "the world as meditation":
But was it Ulysses? Or was it only the warmth of the sun
On her pillow? The thought of it kept beating in her like her heart.
The two kept beating together. It was only day. (wallace stevens)