Game of life

I admit, I’ve been obsessing over baseball all Spring while contemplating life and the big changes I’ll be making to mine very soon.  The good news is…  in addition to doing shows in NY this year, I’ll be going to a lot of Mets and Yankees games in the very near future!

…If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that you should never assume you know what life is going to throw at you next. You’re going to be up against the occasional curve ball, fast balls, and even when you’re playing the best game of your life, the pitcher can nail you with a wild pitch that will land you on the DL when you least expect it. Getting back into the game I need to keep my eye on the ball, and that pitcher, while not allowing myself to fear either or the possibility of allowing history to repeat itself.

Karmic Waffle Nonsense

Every morning when my 2-1/2 and 6 year old sons rouse me from dreamland, it’s to some variation of boisterous breakfast related chanting. Being the type of mother I am, I consistently offer them morning meals of scrambled eggs and whole wheat toast, veggie omelets, whole grain waffles straight from the waffle iron, and healthy cereals with organic or soy milk and fresh fruit. I enjoy cooking in the morning, or any time for that matter. Chatting with my guys over a nutritious home cooked breakfast before we start our day is a practically unrivaled joy in my book. Every mother takes pride in knowing they’ve send their troops out into the world with full bellies, ready to tackle their little missions.

I’m sure you’re resisting the urge to call me Donna Reed or June Cleaver at this very moment. Go ahead… ask me where my apron and white pearls are. They’re tucked neatly away in my “crazy drawer” beside my ridiculous whole grain morning fantasy. In reality, nine times out of ten, my brilliantly adorable little monsters choose chocolate chip Eggo waffles over anything that I offer them. I attempt to coerce and cajole them away from the evils of the bleached flour Eggos on a daily basis and fail miserably most every morning. The kicker is, not only do they choose the frozen waffles over my wholesome offerings, they won’t even accept them toasted. Frozen cold or 26 seconds in the microwave is the only way to go for my little cats. They are lucky they’re so cute.

To this day I have no clue how or when this habit started but much to my “granola girl” dismay, it’s showing no sign of breaking. I have no doubt that this is just the beginning of the Karmic retribution I expect to be blessed with over the coming years. The short time I’ve worked to repent myself as an adult probably isn’t going to save me from paying dearly for my childhood days of hell raising. The cute waffle nonsense will surely be a fond family story of mine well into their adult years. It will be in good company with my Mom’s many tales of my own childhood misadventures. By that time, I’m sure they will be begging me to cook them breakfast every chance they get!

In the end, I’m no June or Donna… I’m more of a Samantha or Lucy kind of Mom who keeps the pearls close at hand just in case. Tomorrow morning I plan to offer the cheeky scoundrels veggie omelets with bird seed bagels, right before I throw my arms up and dial up the “2,6, start” combo on the microwave. I’ll still twitch my nose every morning and hope for the 1 of 10 though.

Sensory Bliss

The calendar page has turned to April yet the Northeast has experienced only subtle changes to prove that Spring has finally arrived. We’re stuck in a seasonal purgatory of mild cold and rain that leaves my boots muddy and my sandals stashed away in the closet still. Luckily my internal clock seems to have instituted it’s own dramatic change of season which I am infinitely thankful for. This morning it dawned on me that inspiration doesn’t necessarily disappear on us. As artists, the challenge we are perpetually presented with is allowing ourselves to be open enough to recognize what is right in front of us and put it to good use. Obviously when dealing with something as subjective as inspiration, I can only share my personal experience in hopes that it might light a fire in another add add something positive to their creative journey

At this moment in time my Creative Spirit seems to be in a state of absolute sensory bliss. The exhilarating effects of this awakening fuel my creativity and productivity with physical, mental, and creative energy. Not to mention it puts me in a great mood even on the most dreary of days. I am finding inspiration in things that are fleeting and barely noticeable, things that have always been in front of me, and even things I once knew that have reappeared. Ideas have come to me in dreams, through collaboration with other artists, and influenced by music, friends, old work, books, and of course my boys. As a result my work has shifted in new directions, doing things I never imagined I was capable of.

Breaking out of the box and monotony of production work has been exactly what this chickadee needed. It’s empowered me to grab the tiger by the throat and shake it senseless with one hand while I use the other to jot down ideas in my notebook. Going to sleep and waking with a smile and fresh artistic vision, certainly helps to push the clouds of winter and circumstance away.

Smile. Seize the day, the inspiration, and shake your personal tiger by the throat… if you know what I mean

Take a look at new work on the Thirteen Moons Website and in my brand new shop at Etsy.com!

March Rain

Have you ever felt as if the calendar is plain old kicking your ass? I can’t be the only one experiencing such beatings this winter. To date, the squares of my 2008 calendar have been paved with the best of intentions… unfortunately, intent isn’t always enough when life is treating your “to do list” and your “schedule” like mere scrap paper. The annual blissful realization that the long hard winter is finally turning to spring, has all but escaped me this year. The ice and snow of winter thoroughly enchanted me but the cold rains of March leave me longing for more blankets! I admit that I have toyed with the idea of diving back into my cave for a couple more weeks of hibernation.

Alas… I have no control over the coming of spring or any of the inevitable joys it brings. Ready or not, the rains will come, crocuses will bloom, birds will migrate, the grass will grow, and all will be alive and renewed. The truly amazing phenomenon is the transformation the changing of these seasons brings to the human psyche. Many of us will experience a true rebirth of the Creative Spirit in the coming weeks. The rains will stir our memories, only to wash them clean and leave us open to new growth. As we watch the earth around us spring back to life, so will our hopes, ambitions, and creative energies.

As the eternal optimist, I will hold tightly to my intent and carry it purposefully through the March rains. When they are over, I intend to throw the doors to my studio open, play my music good and loud, and create with a smile of joyful abandon that comes so naturally in Spring.

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Ending March 18th