Obsession?

Ok, I admit it. I'm obsessed with painting the cup shape form. I love the way it curves and catches light. I love the way I am, each time, inspired by whatever cup I happen to be drinking from. When I started this painting-a-day project, I that thought for sure I would be working alla prima, but it turns out that I am having much more fun working on 2 or 3 or even 4 paintings at a time. While one painting is drying I'll start working on another. If I start getting fatigued by the details of one, I'll shift my focus to another and, in this way, my mind stays fresh and engaged for much longer. Actually, it makes it hard to stop! I think V. might even be getting used to going to bed without me.

It amazes me that I am no where near getting tired of this subject matter. Coffee and tea cups are like shoes--they reflect something about the person that drinks from them. Speaking of shoes...hmmm, maybe my next subject?? :)- Oh, I love how one thing leads to the next, leads to the next, leads to the next.

I feel more alive than I have in quite some time.

"Sunny Blue Bird Cup"
6x6 Original Acrylic
on Gallery Stretched Canvas

* * *

"Stanley for Girls"
6x6 Original Acrylic
on Gallery Stretched Canvas

* * *

"Grunge Mug"
6x6 Original Acrylic
on Gallery Stretched Canvas

* * *

These paintings, among others, are for sale in my Etsy store at Patch of Sky. And there are more in my studio waiting to be photographed--they're coming soon! :)

random and overdue thoughts to dear fiends,

I've been trying to write a post about the lists and journaling I've been doing for the past couple of weeks. However, I've been so busy actually doing, that I haven't had the time to sit down and write about it here.

Hmmm...where to start? Well, at one point I wrote a post in response to a comment that Melba left. A couple days later I read a post by Jamie about Jack Canfield's "rule of 5."

Shortly after reading Melba's and Jamie's words, I decided to take both their ideas and combine them. Melba's advice to ask the Universe for help really made a difference in that it made it easier for me to get things done in a more positive and holistic way. I felt that Jamie's lists of fives would help me to break down my ambitions into something a little bit more manageable.

I'm on the third week of making these lists and am realizing that it not only works incredibly well, but that it is also a learning process....a learning process in which I am learning about myself, that is. These past couple weeks I've been more productive than I have been in months. I owe a lot of this productivity to these lists. But list-making can become dangerous if not kept in check (for ridiculously overachieving nutcases like myself anyway)--and so even my lists have been evolving in ways to become more balanced. The part that seems to be helping me out the most is the self-understanding I'm arriving at that I am doing my best and the rest, well, I am handing it over to the universe.

But wait....there are so many other things I want to talk about too. This must be why it's taken me so long to write this post--my thoughts are starting to bottleneck with the restriction of language. Perhaps it's impossible for me to be able to tell you everything. But I want to try anyway, because these things have been so incredibly helpful for me. I want to extend these thoughts as far out into the universe as possible so that they might help the next person too.

But already I see that I need to back up even further and that it will be hereby impossible to get all of it into one post.

While on a long over-due vacation earlier in the summer, I read a book called The Witch of Portobello by Paulo Coehlo. It is a fictional biography of a woman, written from "the divergent recollections and reflections of the people who knew--or thought they knew--her best." It is the story of a woman named Athena--a woman who lived from the center of her heart and taught others, through example, how to do the same. The story spoke to me in a powerful way because it reminded me of someone. My former self? An old friend? Well, actually, it was both of those people. But that doesn't matter so much as the fact that reading this book reawakened something in me that had grown sleepy and sadly complacent.

Next I read Dog Years by Mark Doty and that book reawakened an inner poetry that had also grown sleepy. It was a book about loss, but more importantly, it was a book about life and love and hope.

These days I'm reading a combination of books, but the one I'm most excited about is Ask and It Is Given by Esther and Jerry Hicks. I came to this book through Melba's reviews and, I'll admit, the first time I picked it up I decided to pass on it because it looked a bit too self-helpy and hokey for my taste. But I kept thinking about it--I mean, it just wouldn't leave my mind. Thoughts about the book just wouldn't leave me alone. I'll tell you, I'm glad that Melba introduced it to me and that Mardougrrl pushed me closer to buying the book, and that the book itself worked its way deep enough into my head to get me, in the end, to bring home a copy of my own.

Also, I've started a vision board. What I mean by that, if you're not familiar with the term, is that I went to Target, bought a cheap (but attractive) corkboard, and have started filling it with images of what I desire my life to look like. I expected it to fill it with all sorts of different things, but there seems to be only two topics I'm interested in right now: 1) Painting and 2) Houses. The corkboard is now filling up with postcards announcing canvas sales (because they have such great photos of studios on them) and an art school (dreaming of continuing ed. classes), homes, and peaceful hangouts. The board also includes words like "rooted" and "believe."

I decided a few weeks ago that it was imperative that I find a "real" job so that we can afford a house. However, at about the same time, I also started doing a painting a day. Don't ask me what possessed me to do the painting-a-day, but I surprised myself and started anyway. And now I'm on my third week and have already sold several of those paintings. I started to feel doubtful about the whole thing and then I sold two more.

My journals from this past year are filled with intentions. And each time I state my intentions, it always seems to include the notion that I want to earn an income (enough to support our desire to own a house) through creative pursuits. Selling my paintings on a regular basis? It seems too good to be true...but is it starting to happen? *a smile creeps across my face at the mere thought of it.*

Last week I decided to take the leap of faith and not only purchase a case of canvases, but to quit my job at the bookstore. Did I really do that? I mean, the job part? Yes, I did. My last day is on Thursday and, although I'll miss it there a lot, I feel downright wonderful about finally acting on something that I've known I needed to do for a long time. The best part? I feel like I have just taken a major step in creating space for whatever it is that's about to happen next.

Today, V. took another small leap of faith and bought me a pen tablet. I've been wanting one for web design for some time now (and, omg, they are so cool!!). It's money that we certainly could have used for something else, but having recently started our own web design business (sidenote: our web site is still in progress), there have already been plenty of times that it would have come in useful. Anyway, we were sitting at the kitchen table about to open the box up--feeling a mixture of excitement and guilt and hopefulness--when we took a quick break to crack open a shared fortune cookie (the restaurant only gave us one and so we decided we'd share the fortune) and the fortune read:

"You are headed in the right direction. Trust your instincts."

Of course, all of this is just the tip of the iceberg; I'm finding it impossible to report to you the entire series of thoughts and events that have led me to these words. Last week, from Ask and It Is Given, I underlined:

"You ask through your attention, through your wanting, through your desire--that is the asking (whether you desire it to happen, or if you desire it not to happen, you are asking...). You do not have to use your words. You just have to feel it in your being: I desire this. I adore this. I appreciate this, and so on. That desire is the beginning of all action."

And so I've started to take action in the best way I know possible: by doing my best to follow my heart, by showing up in my studio every day, by keeping my heart open to the possibilities, by breathing deeply, by making the effort to maintain confidence in myself, by putting myself out into the world in a way that moves me closer to the things I desire.

When I am doing the things I love, I can feel myself literally shine and I feel the genuineness in the way people respond to this feeling of well being. After all, aren't we all attracted to people who are in a balanced, healthy state of mind?

I wish I had the words to write about these thoughts more clearly--but, right now, it seems that I'm simply busy living the change that is taking place inside of me. This isn't anything that has happened over night. It has been actively building upon itself ever since I moved to the city a year ago. It has been building and there is no end to the journey, no final goal or destination--rather, it is a process towards..........Me.

And, you know... I just want to say thank you to those of you who inspire me in more ways than you could possibly realize. You change my world for the better every day. ;)

With love,
Jessie

Etsy Shop Now Open!!

GRAND OPENING!!!

Hello everyone!! I am excited to announce that my new Etsy shop, Patch Of Sky, is now OPEN! I hope you'll stop by and check it out. I'll be posting new items on a regular basis so, please, come back again and again and again!

My latest obsessions have been coffee cups, skyscapes, and the odd beauties that I unexpectedly stumble upon in my daily experiences of the world. These days, I'm feeling like I could paint forever.

I chose the name "Patch Of Sky" for my etsy because a couple of years ago, during a particularly difficult time in my life, I started looking towards the sky for healing and inspiration. I would always try to memorize its details--but, of course, it was impossible. The sky is an ever-changing thing. Perhaps this is part of its beauty. The sky contains space. It contains breath. It contains peace. Looking upward is a habit that stuck with me. To me, painting is another form of sky-gazing--and it causes me to fall in love with this world of color over and over and over. Color is endless.

I hope you enjoy what you see and that
you'll stop by to visit often! :)

You can find my shop at:
www.patchofsky.etsy.com

Lots of love,
Jessie

Two totally different topics...

ACTION SHOTS!

It's been raining for 3 days straight. The four-leggeds are getting restless.

Rain and dogs...oh, what a muddy mixture!

My wolfie, Anu, and little Louis are quite the natural pair.
Caution: serious action shots ahead!

Oooh, look at my *ahem* beautiful wolfie...fangs and all!

"Wait a minute...I need a rest."

"ok...GO!"

OOOh!

Peacefully zonkered once again.
* * * * * * *

And on a completely different note...

I spent the afternoon at a salon getting my hair and eyebrows tended to.
Check it out! I'm a new person!!!

BEFORE

AFTER

***

I'm naturally blond and have had the
horrible-growing-my-hair-out-disaster look
for waaay too long. This is so hard to get used to, but I am soooo liking the change! :) And to prove it, here's another "before" and "after." ha! Is that really me?

BEFORE

AFTER

I've always wanted a bob cut and dark hair; I've even considered treating myself to an oh-so-cool wig. Incognito. Hmmm...maybe I'll change my name too. Something dark and sexy like Véronique or Athena or Indigo or.... any suggestions? ;)

a painting a day: week 1

Ok...here's a long overdo preview of the paintings I've been working on this past week. The quality of these photos lack severely, but once I get some better photos taken they'll be added to my new Etsy shop. A link will be posted soon! :) These days I am compulsively attracted to the beauty in everyday objects (hence, the subject matter of my recent paintings). My world has been transformed. Nothing is safe from examination. Everything is to be appreciated. The simpler the object, the better. I am in search of everything that is normally overlooked. Good god, there'll be no end!

"Urban Nature"
6"x6"
Acrylic on Canvas

"Corporate Junkie"
6"x6"
Acrylic on Canvas

"Drink Me"
6"x6"
Acrylic on Canvas

"Untitled...but Espresso Tastes Best In This One"
6"x6"
Acrylic on Canvas

"Restaurant Mug"
6"x6"
Acrylic on Canvas

"Firefly"
6"x12"
Acrylic on Canvas

"Sacred Morning"
6"x6"
Acrylic on Canvas

sleeping dog love medicine.

I'm happy to report that by some strange twist of luck I didn't have to be to work until noon. What did I do with all my extra time? I SLEPT. And slept. And slept. Louis, the pup, must have been tired too, because he was zonkered out next to me the whole morning (although this photo is of him zonkered out on the floor next to me right now as I type this). Louis has grown a lot these days. He's 5 months old and a solid 50-60 pounds--lanky legs and all. I swear, he grows more every day. Anyway, we've worked out a system of sleeping together that results in an interesting tangle of legs. I especially love it when his leg is thrown up into the air over mine, blissfully unaware of everything except absolute comfort. He's such a snuggler, I can't help but be completely in love with him--even if he does take up more room on the couch than me.

color theory:

I've started working on my fifth painting in four days and, I must say, it feels incredible. I feel like a part of me has returned to myself. I know I've mentioned this before, but this past year I haven't really "allowed" myself to get too far involved with painting for fear that I wouldn't accomplish anything else. Don't get me wrong, I've done plenty of artwork, but always for someone else (for work or commission). Luckily, I came to my senses and (finally) said screw it to my self-imposed ban on painting.

My newly established rebellion includes working on little 6"x6" canvases. They're manageable. I can complete a painting in an hour or two, the only problem being that I don't want to stop! I take the dogs for a walk or drive to the store or walk across the kitchen and am overcome with "oh! I could paint that! and that! and that!..." I love it. I love it when I am able to fall far enough into the creative chasms of my mind, whether it be through writing or painting, that absolutely everything and anything becomes potential material. I especially love it when , even when I close my eyes, all I see is a shifting world of color. In this way, I think my brain has a tendency to get saturated. My brain is starting to feel absolutely soppy with color. Feels good.

In other news, I'm quite positive that I'm going to die from pneumonia or whatever it is that seems to have taken over my body. Today I had a coughing fit so severe that I was sure my eyeballs might pop out or that I'd crack a rib. Luckily, neither happened. But, honestly, somethings gotta give. I've been under a lot of pressure lately to accomplish a whole lot all at once. I would love to visit a witch doctor or shaman or saddhu or someone wise who might tell me exactly what is wrong and why. My body has made every noble attempt possible to let me know that what I need most is SLEEP in order to get better. And what have I done? Well, I've ignored myself. I'm feeling a bit battered and bruised by life--well, my lungs do anyway. How is it that I always seem to get in the way of myself?

Anyway, getting back into painting is a good start. It is reminding me how to be a little bit kinder to myself. It smooths out the bumps and helps clarify my daily list of priorities. Maybe tonight sleep will be at the top of that list.

ps.
I'll post photos later in the week. ;)

a commitment.

I'm waiting for the coffee to finish brewing. I have 12 minutes before I have to start getting ready for work.

Yesterday I came home from work and tore apart the house--well, half of it, that is. I needed a fresh start and took the brunt of my frustrations out on the living room and dining room. I completely emptied both rooms--completely! Then thoroughly cleaned and rearranged. The space feels so much more open and refreshing. I do this every once in awhile, not so much to clean the house, but to declutter my mind. Although, I admit, it ends up serving a duel purpose.

So anyway...on to the next chapter of my life.

I've, just now, decided to commit myself to doing a painting a day (starting today!) and I wanted to write it down here for public viewing so that I don't try to waffle out of it. So here it is:

I, Jessie, commit to doing a painting a day for the next 30 days. No excuses allowed. I am hereby giving myself at least one hour a day to make art. No excuses--none, zip, zero allowed. Amen.

try this:

The other day I made a ridiculously long list of things that I would like to do. Then Melba left a comment saying:

"In Ask and It is Given there is this great exercise.
You take a piece of paper
On one side of the paper you write
My to do list:
and write down everything you will do that day.
Not a crazy long list. Just what you will really do.
On the other side of the list you write
What the Universe will do:
and you write down all the stuff you want the universe to take care of for you."

So I tried it out and guess what...

IT WORKED! :)

I will: work for one hour on my thesis.
The Universe will: help me to finish this one essay more quickly than I anticipate.

I will: spend one hour researching and making notes for C.'s website.
The Universe will: help me to make good use of that information so that I can get the gears in motion.

I will: work for two hours on painting pieces for my Etsy.
The Universe will: provide good music, good coffee, and ample amounts of success.

thoughts on a thursday morning in august.

Is it just me, or does Minneapolis seem tired? Or maybe exhausted is a better word. Yesterday morning people moved with looks of concern on their faces. Every conversation began with things like: "Oh, it's good to see you, you're ok." "Is everyone you know ok?" "Are your people...? (and finishing the question with a simple hand gesture or look meaning: "Do you know anyone that was on the bridge?)"

Yes, Minneapolis is exhausted. Life is returning to normal but I think it is safe to say that this really shook people up. Mostly, I think, because everyone knows someone that might have been on the bridge. My sister's co-worker was in the water. My brother-in-law goes to church with someone whose sister is missing. In this way, the city becomes much smaller. It becomes more apparent just how connected we are--even if by thin threads of acquaintances.

Anyway, it is two days later. It is morning. I am sitting outside once again at my old wooden table and, in the direction of 35W I hear helicopters. The sound paired with a silent interstate is unnerving. Sirens, even more so. This week has brought with it a lot of emotional weight. It has also brought out a sense of caring and connectedness.

I have more that I want to write...but, for now it is time to go to work. We take a deep breath and life goes on. My thoughts go out to those who have been most affected by a moment so unexpected.

Bridge collapse in Minneapolis.

The only sounds I hear are sirens and helicopters and small amounts of thunder. My stomach hurts and I am afraid for the people that were on or near the bridge. I've talked to my sister, brother, and husband. They are safe and, for that, I release a huge breath of relief.

Life is so fucking fragile. I wish that it didn't take things like this to remind us of that. I wish there was something I could do to help.

Random 8.

I've been tagged by Mardougrrl and Megg to spill 8 random fact about myself. So, without further adieu...

• We have to post these rules before we give you the facts.
• Players start with eight random facts/habits about themselves.
• People who are tagged write their own blog post about their eight things and include these rules.
• At the end of your blog, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names. Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged and they should read your blog.

1.
Creating these lists about myself always makes me feel much more normal than I actually am. Or maybe I'm less random than I'd like to believe?

2.
Last night I dreampt that I was sitting in a coffee shop where there were storyboards advertising a new movie. Reading the words, it dawned on me that the movie was about me...except that they spelled my name differently and got the facts all wrong. Rather than get upset about it, I came to the conclusion that there are many perspectives to the same story--mine being only one of them. Which left me wondering...is my life really as I percieve it? Or do I have it all wrong?

3.
I'm almost done reading Dog Years by Mark Doty and I don't remember the last time a book made me cry so hard. That book induces actual bawling. Or maybe it's just that Mark Doty speaks my language.

4.
My favorite part of the day is in the morning when I make myself a strong (very strong) cup of coffee and sit down for 15 minutes to an hour to write, check my emails, and sometimes read a few blogs. I need to write before starting my day. It is my most important meal.

5.
I stepped in dog poop this morning.

6.
Sometimes love scares me. Although I am not afraid of death, I am keenly aware of love's mortality. Why is this? And when did it begin?

7.
I work with a 19 year old art student at the garden shop. He is the most random person I know. Sometimes we laugh so hard that we cry. I like working with him because he reminds me a lot of my 19 year old self--the self that lives life with a touch of happy abandonment.

8.
My husband and I dream of someday opening up an adoption center and sanctuary for abandoned and unwanted dogs. We would not keep them kenneled or in cages, but instead would have space for them to play and live freely as they might do if they had a real home. I am inspired by this woman and this woman and these people.

*In the spirit of randomness...8 random people, please surprise me by continuing this tag. Oh giddiness...who will it be??

suspension of disbelief.

It's late. I got home from work, ate a quick supper, ran errands for a couple hours, quickly cleaned parts of the house and *WALLAH!* It's already after 11pm. What happened? Well, no matter. I'm here now, writing words, and that's all that really counts. I've brewed a fresh pot of coffee (decaf, of course), Louis has just konked out at my feet, my little cat has fallen asleep on the very tip-top back of my chair, and my other cat is meowing loudly for my attention. All of this love and sleepiness and simply being home feels good.

It has been hot enough at the garden shop to make my brain cells boil. Today, as I sat as still as possible in an attempt to keep my attention focused on the hot breeze coming from the fan, I found myself fantasizing about walking in the woods on a cool fall day. It's been weeks since I've taken any long walks. It's just too hot, too buggy, too ugh... Sometimes, in the evening, we make it as far as the lake, then follow the shady trails of the creek back home. But those days have been coming fewer and farther in between. This heat and the drought that has accompanied it is wearing me thin. Winter. Sweet winter. Where are you?

But enough about the weather.

I've been thinking a lot about my last post and feeling the need to fill in some of the blanks. Actually, I considered deleting the post entirely...it was so damn optimistic and I feared that my lack of explanations were also misleading. Then I thought better of it and decided to leave it up because, hell...what's wrong with being optimistic?

So here it is...

New House:
We want one, but we can't afford one. Nope, nadda. Not even a crack house in the bad part of town. BUT... I am not willing to give up, which leads to...

New Job:
Here's the deal. I love it at the garden shop and the bookstore (yes, I'm still at the bookstore), but I think it is safe to say that both places have served their purpose in my life. They were the temporary "dream jobs" that I wanted in order to decompress from grad school. Well, I think it's safe to say that I have hereby decompressed (thank god!)...and now it is time to move on. I have absolutely loved it there and have gotten to know a lot of really great people in the process. But now...I don't know. I'm starting to feel the dead-end-ness of it. And I don't like that feeling. I also feel a lot of stress over the fact that the place could sell any day and that, if that happened, I would more than likely either get my hours cut or lose my job. Financially, that would swamp our boat in a very serious way. But what it comes down to is that I am ready to challenge myself again. Being the happy garden shop girl is great in theory, but...

Anyway, meeting with a mortgage broker last week snapped me sharply back to reality. Not that I wasn't realistic about everything before, but let's just say that seeing the actual breakdown of numbers subtracted from both our student loan payments subtracted from both car payments subtracted from the day to day cost of living...well, it was a major kick in the ass to get motivated and start looking for a new job. This, however, is the part where I am earnestly trying to maintain optimism. Hey, why not?

In my nonexistent spare time (and at the expense of sleep) I've been scouring the internet for possibilities while simultaneously updating my resume, writing cover letters, and filling out online applications. Oh joy! Well, not exactly...but I am trying my best to not only maintain optimism, but enthusiasm as well. I won't go into this further lest I tip my fragile balancing act in the wrong direction.

Anyway, wanna know what a new job spells? N.E.W. H.O.U.S.E. Now wouldn't that be grand?! All I can say is THANK GOD that our problems have a solution...no matter how far-fetched these solutions some days feel.

Finished Thesis:
Did I get ahead of myself here? Unless you read carefully, you may have missed my meaning. I am not done yet. Nope. But I'm getting there. I've been writing 2-5 pages a week since May. Did I mention that I started over? Yes, it's true. And I've written more in the past 3 months than I have in the past 2 years. Granted, 2-5 pages as week is not much, but I am happy with my progress. You see, there is an accumulative effect that works to my advantage. I am solidly half way finished and progress continues. That alone is reason to celebrate.

Monday is my day to write and I treat that day with absolute sacredness. I allow myself no other obligations other than writing. And, best of all, I no longer allow myself to feel bad for not getting things done sooner or faster or better or whatever. I'm done being the anxiety ridden grad student. Now it is time to write. Simple as that. I write because I love it. Not for any other reason.

After high school, it took me 7 years before I made it to college. I always knew that I'd get there eventually, but I also deeply believed that there were more ways to learn than from school alone. I spent those years traveling around the world. I hopped freight trains, traveled the States like a real life Dharma bum, slept on mountain tops, lived in the desert and deep in the woods...I did a lot of things and went a lot of places. I lived fearlessly. And I did things that I never would have done had I gone the direction I was expected to. I don't mean to get all nostalgic here, but those years were, on a very deep level, some of the best of my life. I've reached a new era in my life, but why should I expect myself to be any different than I've always been? I've never been the type that moves directly from Point A to Point B.

I went to school to become a writing teacher--and I have great faith that someday it will happen. But it's not a race. Becoming a teacher is about more than simply earning a degree--or maybe I should specify by saying that becoming a good teacher requires more than a degree. I've never been much of a hoop jumper. My desire to live from the heart is much too insistent. I'll admit that my commitment to living a genuine life has some serious drawbacks, but it has its rewards, too. School aside (where did that tangent come from?)...
These days, I'm writing out of the sheer love of language--and that is making all the difference in the world.

Anyway...does that explain things better? My last post sounded so optimistic that I feared it was enough to make anyone reading it gag. Well, none of it is quite so easy as I made it sound. But I am doing my best to hold on to the sense of possibility that I felt last week. I am going to continue to swim on the surface of that feeling until I start noticing some results. I mean, really, I have nothing to lose.

I'm going to live from the very center of my heart--and, from that place, I'm going to move forward. There's a name for this, you know. It's called Magical Realism--it's a literary style that requires a willing suspension of disbelief. I was thinking that it might be worth trying out in life as well.

What do you think? Wanna try it?

here in spirit.

Dear Friends,
I've written about a gazillion posts in my head, but unfortunately it has been over a week since I last updated my blog. Whaaa? I have been busy lately trying to tangibly move my life forward. Read: new job, new house, new business, finished thesis. So far, only one of those things have been accomplished. The new business will be "announced" soon! :)
Anyway, all of this striving has taken away from my blogging time. I miss it here, but at the same time it feels good to actually be accomplishing something. I've decided to be more proactive about my position in life--and not just in theory, but in actuality. In the meantime, dear blogging friends, you are with me every step of the way and I am with you!

Now if I can just make it through the heat of today...I'll be doing good.

All my love,
Jessie

ps.
Louis sends kisses.

xoxoxo

dog years life love.

At the moment I am sitting at my desk and looking out the window. My old computer bummed out on me today, but luckily (oh so luckily) I have a laptop that I can replace it with. I lit incense and a candle and put on my big fat earphones to block out the rest of the world. I looked out the window just a minute ago because, although I didn't hear anything, I felt the slight shake of the house as the front door closed. V. is taking Louis for a walk. Every night we take him for a walk by himself so he can be properly trained. Anu, our wolfie, is far from trained and Louis doesn't pay much attention to us when we take them for walks together because he is so enamored by her. I can't blame him. I am, after all, enamored by both. I watched V. and Louis walk down the street and I can't even imagine being a mother. I mean, really, how can one handle that much love? I would burst. I am sure of it. Never mind that I am comparing puppy love with motherhood. There is a difference I'm sure. But whatever.

Louis is growing fast. His fur turns new colors every week. His legs grow longer. He responds to things in new ways. I don't know what he will look like when he is all grown up...but I am fascinated by who he is becoming. He is so full of moods, and expressions, and curiosity. Anu, in turn, has become the older, wiser, and all knowing goddess that I never expected her to become. Although she is not formally trained (other than "sit"), I am amazed by how well we move through life together--through intuition and body language alone. I don't use commands with Anu because she doesn't know them (yes, this is my fault), but she reads me in other ways. The addition of Louis to our family has made me more aware of the relationship I have with Anu and the ways in which we know each other. I always feel calmest when she is by my side. My thinking becomes more clear. Life in dog years is always too short. These four-legged animals have always been my best friends in life. It's always been this way for me. I love them deeply and am keenly aware of their mortality. Love never lasts long enough--especially the unconditional kind--not even if it were to last a billion years.

There are so many other things that I sat down to write about...but, I don't know. These days, my musings have been internal--too internal to write about? I have intricate conversations with myself that, by the time I make it to my computer or a piece of paper, become long forgotten. But it doesn't matter. I'm allowing myself quiet space. This is just the stuff in between.

matters of perspective.

I woke up this morning with a long list of complaints. Then I came outside with a fresh cup of coffee and was surrounded, from the ground up, by dogs. The warmth of their bodies at my feet causes my world to look a bit brighter. The sky is blue, the sun shines, and there is a cool breeze that smells faintly of pine.

The world is fragile and alive and it feels good to be a part of it.

I am feeling love. Can you feel it too?

forward momentum.

I was up late last night cleaning out my studio space... and what I mean by that is that I finally finished unpacking/ sorting/ repacking the rest of the boxes from our move a year ago. Upon returning from last week's mini-vacation I realized that I am ready to start taking action on all those ideas that have been bumbling about in my head and in my journal. I didn't plan on this sudden motivation, it just happened, and I'm not about to waste this strange burst of energy.

Clearing out and decluttering my studio space is an important step forward for me. You see, I haven't done a serious painting since before I moved. Sure, I've done plenty of artwork for the bookstore as well as a rather large mural commission--but nothing actually for myself. Way back last fall I made a promise to myself that I wouldn't get swept away by any major painting projects until I was done with my thesis. I did this because, over the years, I have learned that, creatively, I work best when I keep my energy focused on one art form at a time. Not to mention, I also know that I have a tendency to get obsessed with ideas once I get started. I don't generally do just one painting...oh no... I have to do an entire SERIES of paintings! I can't help it. I get going on an idea and doing just one piece is only enough to scratch the surface. It creates an itch of curiosity and I get drawn in. The more I paint, the deeper into the subject matter I find myself. When this happens, I usually find it hard to stop. Painting becomes my first priority; and everything else falls by the wayside.

Don't get me wrong, I love writing also. It is my first love, after all. But writing and painting are two different worlds. When I write, I feel my brain working hard, shifting through language, rhythm, memory, experience, emotion. When I write I feel like I am searching. On occasion, I find what I am looking for and, when this happens, the sensation is euphoric.

But when I paint...this is harder to describe. When I paint it is easier to lose myself. A part of my brain shuts off and I am more easily "in the zone." If things are going well, I form deep relationships with my subject matter. In many ways, painting is easier that writing. Even so, I cannot give up writing. Writing is like oxygen. Painting is like water. I need both. The difficulty is in finding a balance, but I am getting better at it. I am learning that when I am focusing on one art form, I will not lose the other. I take turns with each, and it seems that Writing and Painting have, finally, learned to be more patient with each other.

Yesterday brought with it an incredible sense of accomplishment. Between gardening and studio cleaning, I worked from the time I got up until the time I went to bed (well after midnight) and in the process I was able to complete two major projects. I got started and then I couldn't stop. It felt so good to finally FINALLY be getting things done that I didn't dare quit.

These days I am on the cusp of some new adventures.
#1: My husband and I will be launching our new web design business (more about this soon!).
#2: I will begin work on 2 new series of paintings in the very near future (one of portraits and the other of urban landscapes).
#3: I will be phasing out of the bookstore and phasing in art income.

By cleaning out my studio, I am giving myself permission to return to painting. And you know what? It feels good. Ever since waking up this morning I keep sneaking downstairs to take it in. The space is clean, organized, and much more open. The only thing it's missing is the smell of OIL PAINT. I'm even thinking about getting some fish for V's abandoned fish tank and putting them in the studio so I have something that needs my attention on a daily basis. Since fish need to be cared for, I will use them as lure to get me down there, even on days when I think I am too busy. Anyway, I think fish are beautiful. Maybe they will even inspire a series of fish paintings?

I spent the morning and early afternoon tying up a few more loose ends, cleaning the kitchen, and finally putting away the accumulated piles of books and paper in my writing room. This, right now, is a blogging break. Oh, how I love a good blogging break!

What next? Well, the rest of the day is dedicated to working on an essay for my thesis. To stay sane, I have started working in 2 hour blocks of time. 2 hours at the table in the back yard. Then a break to walk the dogs and eat dinner with V. Who knows...I might even lay in the hammock for a little while and soak up the warmth of the day. Then I'll pack up my laptop and papers and head to a coffee shop for a couple more hours of writing. Oh, sweet, blissful Mondays!

Today, my life feels new and the possibilities actually feel possible. Even though forward movement is rarely more than a series of many small actions, this is how momentum is gained. Today, my heart feels wide open. And this moment...this particular moment is the beginning of what happens next.

My mood: passionate. and hopeful, too.

too many things to blog about so this is what you get instead.

"The lake."

Early morning with Louis.

Foggy morning.

ahhhhh.....summer.

Louis, the water-dog, in his element.

The past 5 days have been relaxing to say the least. We camped out on my mom's lake lot and the photo in the last post is one that I took upon waking and stumbling out of the tent. It stayed foggy most of the day and so, aside from a long hike in the nearby state forest, I spent the day reading next to the fire.

Louis and Anu played hard, swam hard, and slept hard. I thought that bringing both the dogs might end up being a lot of trouble, but they couldn't have been happier. I alternated between reading, swimming, lounging in the hammock, sketching, cooking, and taking short walks with V. and the dogs.

I spent a lot of time listening to the call of loons. And thinking.

If I had a computer and internet out in the woods I might have spent the entire time blogging all of those deep thoughts I was having. But I've come to realize that there is something to be said for temporary silence. I brought nothing with me that was thesis or work related (I wanted to, but didn't let myself!). Maybe it was the hammock or the soft breeze from the lake or a combination of a lot of things, I don't know--whatever it was, I did a lot of thinking. The funny this is that now that I'm back I'm not even sure what half of those thoughts were. But what I do know is that the second I got home I finally took action on some things that I have been thinking and thinking about for months now.

But there's too much to write about all at once.

(...so I'll begin by saying that) I started work on the front yard. This is important because I've been obsessed with finding a home of our own for so long now that I have been starting to drift out towards a placeless limbo. These past weeks I have been working on my thesis which revolves around the notion of how, as individuals, we are continuously redefining our "sense of place." But lately I have been feeling my own sense of place slip from my grasp. I have been neither here nor there. I have been searching for "something else" rather than making any attempt to be present in my own life.

It's also important to note that I only started work on the front yard because the landlord came over yesterday and asked if he could hire me for the job. The perennial gardens have been neglected for a loooong time and getting them back in shape is no small task. As renters, we weren't willing (or able) to spend our own money (or thankless time) on the project. But hey... money motivates, ey? And if he was willing to foot the bill, I was more than willing to do the work.

And so yesterday I, quite literally, dug in. Once I got started, I couldn't stop. I pulled weeds and raked and got seriously dirty. At one point, while in the middle of an especially thick patch of weeds, I found myself sitting on the ground totally absorbed in the moment. I was pulling at a tough lace-work of roots and, for the first time in a very long while, I too felt rooted. V. and I haven't given up on looking for a place of our own, but I think that, on a very deep and subconscious level, in the process of connecting with this little piece of the earth that we live on, I made the decision that we will be here for just a little bit longer--and that, no matter where I am, I feel a great need to invest myself into the place (whatever place) I call home.

I want to be present in my life. I've been spending so much time and energy trying to visualize what I want my life to look like in the future that I haven't been able to appreciate the way it is right now. The rest, I do not doubt, will fall into place soon enough. For now, gardening is my meditation. Dirt helps to keep me grounded. I need to feel roots, however temporary.

renewed.