Hope

On Friday, the girls and I spent the day shopping together. Mattie has a flair for hats and Charleigh is always an easy-going retail buddy. The thrift stores on our circuit are all fans of Charleigh and many of the managers know her by name. We did lunch and Mattie ran the ipod, and we had a lot of fun.

The best score of the day was when we found a stack of old prints and frames. I paid just a dollar a frame and 10 dollars for two prints, (which turned out to be three prints when I disassembled them.) These are all at least 100 years old, I estimate.

The most interesting was this print, which was signed in each corner in pencil. Signed things are always a good bet. I may have balked a bit at spending 10 dollars on a print, but my instincts about the picture told me to go ahead. I rarely examine things closely in the store. I just get this fluttery feeling around my heart that tells me to buy something. So I bought it.

After a bit of research, I found out that this was painted by a Victorian artist named George Frederic Watts in 1885 shortly after the death of the daughter of one of his close friends. The painting is entitled HOPE. It is one of his best known works and is indicative of the Symbolist movement. The girl is sitting on top of the globe, blindfolded, wearing rags, playing a harp which has all but one string broken. You can feel the chill from the mist at her feet. Some people find it gloomy.

I do not.

I find it curious that this image came into my life at a time when I was really listening for it. While listening to Rob Bell's Lenten teaching when he talked about how when things are at the there very worst, that makes a crack, a space, for hope.

As I further researched, I learned that this painting has been an inspiration to Barak Obama; According to the curator of the Watts Museum...

Most recently and dramatically is the influence that it has had on the next President of the United States of America. The painting inspired a lecture by Dr Frederick G. Sampson in Richmond, Virginia, in which he discusses at length Watts’s Hope. This inspired the Reverend Jeremiah Wright, who was present at this lecture, to give a powerful sermon in 1990 called The Audacity to Hope. This was attended by the 29-year-old Barack Obama, who at the time was in his second year at Harvard Law School and president of the Harvard Law Review. Here the President first saw Watts’s painting and was deeply inspired by the sermon which provided the title for his second autobiographical book. Obama’s Hope is one rooted in a deep faith in the American Dream, ‘the true genius of America’ he writes is ‘a faith in the simple dreams of its people, the insistence of small miracles.’ If Watts had never painted Hope who knows…

A copy also hung in the prison cell of Nelson Mandela.

I think that says something about the strength of the image, don't you?

My copy is a nice lithograph by a good firm in New York City. I suspect it dates to the early 1900s. The pencil writing is likely just for identification, not a signature. If you know something about this print that I have not been able to find online, I would love to hear about it! Can you make out the words or numbers above the pencil name "Watts?"

Suddenly, the house seemed so quiet....

People say they look alike....

I don't see it...

I mowed. It snowed.

I spent a good chunk of Thursday outside, in a short-sleeve shirt, gardening and pulling a hammy while starting the mower for the first time this year. While the front yard has that weird brown grass (is it Bermuda grass?) the back yard is almost entirely lush, green and weedy. It proved to be quite an adventure as I was turning the compost bin, I found all kinds of interesting things: first, the biggest black widow I've found to date here...easily bigger than a fifty cent piece. Fortunately, I was wearing gloves. Next, I found the clippings from the forsythia that the team from Vintage had cut back in the fall. The cuttings were blooming!

But this morning, the effects of a Rocky Mountain blizzard are catching up to us. I covered my blueberry bush and I'm hoping my newly sprouted tomatoes and squash are warm enough inside the cold frame I built. I suppose it is only March after all. I hate March.

On This Very Night

13 years ago..

No, 13? Can that be right???

A very tan, just back from the Bahamas boy
made dinner for me
at Dr. and Mrs. Carter's house
with Aaron Varner, Roddy Hannah and Burchie in the kitchen to serve us
(because we couldn't be alone according to Bible college rules)

And then he didn't eat a bite
while I made bright and nervous conversation
and tried very hard to live in the moment
and failed miserably

I sat down in the living room
and he got down on one knee
asked me to marry him
and only when I said yes,
showed me the most beautiful ring
which he had designed himself.

There is no way I could have imagined back then, on that cool
but promising to warm up sometime
rainy night
how many adventures we would have together

We rang the giant bells in the campus tower
according to the tradition
and he walked me to the dorm
and kissed me goodnight
while all my friends sang
"Going to the chapel."

On this night....13 years ago.

Good Ole What's-Her-Name

Dr. Carter used to jokingly refer to Mrs. Carter as "Good Ol' What's Her Name." They sometimes joked this way, but I also recall the day that Dr. Carter told a class of sophomores that if anyone ever disrespected his wife, He would use Judo on them. He was deathly serious and I knew for a fact that he really would.

Anyway... I digress down a little memory path. But the point of my entry today is that this lady needs a name...after all, she's not just a body! She needs the dignity of a moniker. You see, my old model was named Alice. Donna found her at some remote estate sale in Michigan and brought her home to me. Unfortunately, her nuts and bolts worked themselves loose from all the work I expected of her, and for the past few months, she has modeled with a droopy hip and hunched shoulders. She found secondary employment holding the sign in my Heartwood booth...it's much more stationary work and better suited to her joint issues.

Robb suggested Flo, but it doesn't fit. So I need to give this mannequin a name. C'mon. Amuse me. I have kids home for spring break doing things like ...making mud pies and then climbing into my white cloaked bed. I need the distraction desperately.

SWEET!

I got featured as an editors pick for the second week in a row and business has been brisk since. Color me giddy and see the article here.

The typewriter is already sold!

Beyond the Obvious Metaphor

Mosaics are an obvious metaphor for how God uses broken things to make beautiful things. I am keenly aware of it every time I work a piece. How God is conscious to the kind of pieces that belong together and for what purpose. How He sees a greater picture and brings it about. I find it easier to work mosaics in trying times because I tend to turn the shards, fit them, and puzzle them together while I puzzle out thoughts and situations.

So it's not surprising that these would be the result of my couple of weeks of musing.
The shell mirror has been languishing in the gallery for a long time and was actually one of the first things I made. But it had a mirror inside, which got scratched in the process of making it. It was just not a good piece of glass in the first place. So I decided to try something different...I made chalkboard paint with a bit of brown paint left over from my bedroom. I love the way the color brings out the brown and pink in the shells. I then added even more shells to the frame, bulking it up a bit. I'm honestly going to have a hard time parting with this piece, I love it so much. The architecture of the shells is amazing. To think that God would form such homes for the smallest and most unglamorous sea creatures...

I then altered the long wooden tray with a mirror and the remaining shards from the Double Springs Pottery to compliment the other mirror I made last week. It makes me think of rocks in the bottom of a creek, like this painting by local artist George Dombek.

As I pieced things together, I pieced in my mind.

On Monday, I realized that I don't have any emotional baggage. Not that I've had baggage and overcame it. I literally have none. I'm like an emotional albino. I've got nothing. No unkind hand has ever been laid on me. I've been cherished and valued and honored in my formative relationships. Tragedy has gone off like a bomb around me, but never close enough to leave me shell-shocked. The realization had me feeling like
the character in M. Night Shyamalan's Unbreakable who comes to the knowledge that he is a super-hero. It's a kind of guilty, freaktitude. I tried to blog about it then, but I was still staring at the thought, unsure what to make of it.

Simultaneously, I was sifting through the things that have come to my ears this week...much I can't write about, but picture my sister and brother-in-law's adoption tragedy-in-process as the tip of the iceberg. Bombs are going off in the backyards of my friends.

So many broken pieces to turn and puzzle in my mind.

I listened on Tuesday to Rob Bell's continuing Lenten teaching from Lamentations. From the last one I heard, I embraced lamenting for the sadness around me. I embraced just feeling sad and not trying to escape the mourning that is part of being human in a broken world. While listening to this weeks "New Skirts" this teaching, I glued some of the pieces down.

I've confessed in the past to watching Grey's Anatomy. Last season was horrific. It was as if the writers were making bets as to who could throw in the most trash. The overwhelmingly negative response got them back on track this year, bringing back the irony we all liked in the first place. Robb fell asleep before he could render his one allowed "this show is so stupid." It wasn't stupid last night. There were some very redemptive things about it. Namely, that when somebody is hurting, they need love. They need community. The characters in Grey's are flawed and cartoonish at times...it's only TV after all. But the man with half a face is not unlike most people in our churches....they are terribly aware of their deformity and terribly afraid that nobody will love them back to health.

The God-shaped vacuum inside us is sometimes filled with God-shaped people.

I don't have baggage. I've come to believe this week that I don't have it, so I can help other people carry theirs. My husband's comes first. Protecting my kids from acquiring much comes second. And after that, I am free to help you with yours. I want to help you piece it together.

Geeky Smart

When Vin got his note to invite him into the Gifted and Talented program, Mattie shrugged..."Oh well, I'm not geeky smart." And then she got hers a day later.

On Tuesday night, they had their GT program, which consisted of Vin showing off the Spanish he'd learned in a recitation with his classmates and Mattie was part of a game-show. They had those awesome quiz buzzers that many of us used during BIBLE QUIZZING back in the day. She cracked us up with her competitiveness. It's as if that girl is related to her Daddy and Mommy. My batteries were croaking, but I think you can see just how very much she wanted to win, which made it an exciting quiz show for everyone.

A time to mourn, A time to laugh

There is a somber feeling in our house these days. So many sad things...so many hard circumstances...so many heartbreaking stories....

And yet, there are still sunshiny days, and little black puppies and children.

Charleigh informed me this morning that her waffles....warmed up left over from Sunday night..."tastes like a CIGAR!"

Meet Ellie

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This is Sara (Williams) Christianson's little girl, born Saturday night. If you were at Vintage on Sunday, now you know what that call was about. I don't actually get pictures on my phone, so I didn't recognize the ringer and had no idea who was letting their phone ring and ring without answering it!

She's got her mommy's eyebrows!

A spot in the Spotlight!

I was clicking around today and noticed that my globe got a spot in the Etsy blog, The Storque. It's an adorable article and I'm thrilled to have been chosen for the illustration. Just to clarify, it means that my globe will run on the front page for awhile as part of this article. I feel so valued at Etsy. I like those guys so much.

Do You Ever...

just feel so sad for a friend's problems that you have a hard time enjoying yourself? I do. I know these friends wouldn't want me too, but I just feel so badly for them. And yeah, you pray for them, but your prayer sounds like this...

"Dear Lord....
ARUUARUAUAUGUGGHGHHH. Ya know what I'm saying Lord?"

And he does know what your saying, but you are still sad... you know?

Vin in the news

Calvin brought home this little news story from his school. This kid cracks me up. He told us about his penpal, but he never told us that he was from Michigan too.

You can read the story here.

Therapy

I made a list of things I should do and then I didn't do any of them and made this mosaic instead.

It is made of hand thrown pottery from the Double Springs Pottery in Fayetteville. They have their pottery at the Heartwood too. These were pieces that got ruined in the kiln when piece exploded, so they brought them to me to see what I could do with them. I feel a matching flower pot coming on too.

An Interview with Mattie about Mom- 3rd and Last in the Series

1. What is something mom always says to you? clean your room and go to bed and I love you.

2. What makes mom happy? Dad, me and mosaicking. Me and Calvin not fighting.

3. What makes mom sad? when Me and Calvin fight. If we get bad grades, I guess?

4. How does your mom make you laugh? Our weird conversations. And Dad.

5. What was your mom like as a child? Serious. You were like free to do what you want, sort of. Adventurous.

6. How old is your mom? 34

7. How tall is your mom? 5 foot 3?

8. What is her favorite thing to do? be with Dad? And Mosaic? That's a hard question

9. What does your mom do when you're not around? work on mosaicking and ebay or etsy and take care of Charleigh.

10. If your mom becomes famous, what will it be for? for being the best mom in the world and being an awesome artist.

11. What is your mom really good at? being a great mom and persevering and being creative and artistic

12. What is your mom not very good at? getting up in the morning...Um...can't think of anything else.

13. What does your mom do for her job? Make mosaics and sell old things....vintage things.

14 What is your mom's favorite food? mashed potatoes? apples? oatmeal.

15. What makes you proud of your mom? most things. Probably everything. I'm not going to list them all. Except maybe making scalloped potatoes...I don't like them. Sorry.

16. If your mom were a cartoon character, who would she be? Probably Daphne and Velma combined because you're pretty and smart. Yeah.

17. What do you and your mom do together? Have weird conversations and talk and we do project things together and cook together and most things.

18. How are you and your mom the same? We're both girls, smart, pretty and creative and pretty funny. A lot of things

19. How are you and your mom different? I bet you were serious when you were a kid and I'm not that serious. Your married and I'm not. Clearly.
You don't read Harry Potter yet.

20. How do you know your mom loves you? you show it a lot of ways. You say it. You take care of us and don't yell at us unless it's really necessary.

21. What does your mom like most about your dad? He's funny. He is loving. He's your husband. That kind of stuff.

22. Where is your mom's favorite place to go? Bed.


The truth comes out...

An Interview with Calvin about Mom

1. What is something mom always says to you? I love you

2. What makes mom happy? being with Dad

3. What makes mom sad? when dad isn't here and the house in Michigan

4. How does your mom make you laugh? When she makes a stern face when I burp at the dinner table. Accidentally burp.

5. What was your mom like as a child? nice. Do you know what kind of nice I mean? Like you are nice to people.

6. How old is your mom? 34 or 33.

7. How tall is your mom? 2 inches tall. No...um... Do you mean feet, Vin? Yeah.

8. What is her favorite thing to do? be with the family

9. What does your mom do when you're not around? work on ebay or etsy.

10. If your mom becomes famous, what will it be for? an actor.

11. What is your mom really good at? you are really good at fitting things into the day.

12. What is your mom not very good at? waking up in the mornings!!!!

13. What does your mom do for her job? Work on Etsy and Ebay

14 What is your mom's favorite food? let's go with....Ravioli!

15. What makes you proud of your mom? when I hear what you did during the day.

16. If your mom were a cartoon character, who would she be? Smurfette

17. What do you and your mom do together? hug each other. In summer, we swim.

18. How are you and your mom the same? We both like ravioli and we both have brown hair.

19. How are you and your mom different? I'm an early riser and you're a late riser. I hate sleep and you love it.

20. How do you know your mom loves you? Because you're my mom!

21. What does your mom like most about your dad? Everything. Just Him.

22. Where is your mom's favorite place to go? Fayetteville. No Erase that....Your mom and dad's house.

An interview with Charleigh about Mom

1. What is something mom always says to you? no (oh great.)

2. What makes mom happy? when I go to the potty

3. What makes mom sad? when I go to the bathroom in my pants

4. How does your mom make you laugh? by saying something silly

5. What was your mom like as a child? ok, ummmm...you play and you laugh.

6. How old is your mom? I don't know. I don't wanna guess. 13? 13 old.

7. How tall is your mom? big enough.

8. What is her favorite thing to do? work and listen to the Bible.

9. What does your mom do when you're not around? you ......work. You work all day long.
And then you come pick me up. I want another question.

10. If your mom becomes famous, what will it be for? painting or something.

11. What is your mom really good at? working. No! Doing mosanix!

12. What is your mom not very good at? Globes or something. Giggle.

13. What does your mom do for her job? You work on the computer. On Ebay. And then you work with Ebay stuff.

14 What is your mom's favorite food? peas and meat. (You only think that because I eat my favorite foods when you are sleeping....)

15. What makes you proud of your mom? when you work.

16. If your mom were a cartoon character, who would she be? um.... ELMO! Even though I said Elmo, that doesn't mean I love him.

17. What do you and your mom do together? we walk the kids to school and we go grocery shopping. You got an email, mom.

18. How are you and your mom the same? because we have the same hair. How do your eyeballs roll around?

19. How are you and your mom different? Because my hair is like 1, 2, 3, 4 and yours is 1, 2, 3.

20. How do you know your mom loves you? because I remember! Why does the computer have an apple on it?

21. What does your mom like most about your dad? When he watches TV and works on the computer. (REALLY?)

22. Where is your mom's favorite place to go? WALMART! Aldis! How do dog blink? More questions!!!!

23. Charleigh, did you pee in your pants? um...

Her Name is Peggy

There was very little debate over the naming of this dog. Robb got top choice because he will be getting up at night with this baby. He likes his women like his coffee...strong. That put a few names on the table...Elizabeth (as in Dole), Margaret (as in Thatcher) and Peggy (as in Peggy Noonan, speech writer and biographer of Ronald Reagan.)

Peggy stuck. But Margaret Thatcher isn't a bad runner up, is it?

SOLD!

I worked at the gallery today. Robb called to say that he had found something he really wanted to buy. Not one single person had come into the gallery the whole time I was there. I told Robb that if I sold something, he could buy it.

10 minutes later, an interesting couple came in and bought the mailbox. It took more time for them to write their check than it took for them to decide to buy it.

So I called Robb back to say that he could make his purchase. He told me that my daughters were in the car, praying for me to sell something. Vin informed the girls that he didn't thing that God cared about stuff like that. They said He did.

It turns out they were right.

Big Day

I'm sitting at my table listening to the new U2, specifically "Magnificent" with my back door open after walking the dog and the kids to school. This time Sid was on a leash which is really the preferable way of doing things. I've never done this before, but she was so good I will probably do it again.

My sister is in a hospital in Pittsburgh with food poisoning. My friend Donna has a job interview. My Dad is having both knees replaced today...maybe as I write this. And Robb had a trip today...to Pittsburgh. He is going to go up to my parent's town and surprise my parents. I can't tell you how much it eases my mind to know that he is going to check on them.

So I ran this morning...

uphill

while Mattie, Calvin and their buddy, Will kept walking to school

and Charleigh tried to keep up

and I was wearing bad shoes

because I can't find my favorite ones

Rockport slip ons that I bought when I was pregnant with Mattie

toward my car

and my house to get the keys

so I could catch

my stupid **&&#@(# dog

who dug out from under the fence

and can only be caught by offering her a ride

(the tramp)

I'm. Going. To. Die.

"Charleigh, where did you get that gum?"

um...

I found it.

"Where did you find it?"

On the street.

"In a wrapper?" (please!)

Noooo.

Part 2

I am sitting in the chair with my hands over my face, after begging Robb to handle this. He sent her to brush her teeth. This is little improvement in my mind.

"Charleigh. What will help you to never do this again?"

Charleigh dons her very serious face, with her eyeballs directed so far upward that you can see the whites under the brown. Her eyebrows knit together and her chin is low. She fully grasps the seriousness of her answer.

um. Talking about it.

Robb fails miserably at stifling his laughter while I internally wonder what will cause the greater harm....bleaching her mouth or letting hepatitis happen naturally from eating gum from the street.

He says it a little more eloquently

For those of you who "got" what I just posted, I listened to Rob Bell's "Learning to Lament in a culture of denial" just now and thought...that's what I'm trying to say.

Contrary to what people often think, the key to
easing peoples suffering is not in offering
some insidious theodicy but in allowing a
place for people to mourn and to meet others
who know what it is to have been burned by
that black sun.

Peter Rollins

Can I Just Be Honest?

I'm fat. Shut up. I don't care if you are comparing yourself to me, saying "she's not fat." I'm not talking comparable-line-up-fat. I'm talking for me, FAT. I ate like a pig over the holidays and now I'm not still gaining, but I'm certainly not losing it. My clothes are tight and miserable. I sit in front of the computer too much. And while I have believed whole-heartedly up 'til now that I will lose the weight "later," it is now "later" and I don't know how to lose the weight.

And to add insult to injury...

I'm in debt up to my eyeballs. The government is screwing me over in all their fine attempts to help people. The house in Michigan is never going to sell. My carpet is disgusting. My skin is wrinkly and getting worse all the time. They stopped making the moisturizer I like that I've been using for the last three years (the same container for the last three years, btw) My hair is flat and over-processed and resembles a bad wig. I colored my eyebrows....badly. I yell at my kids too much. My dog is unlicensed. My 9 year old keeps hurting my feelings with her way-too-honest observations about me. I have no idea where Charleigh's birth certificate is...or the rest of the family's for that matter. I'm frustrated with Etsy. I'm not that creative or smart or talented. People are having affairs and being stupid and hurting themselves and their families and that makes me sad and mad and frustrated. I'm scared to watch the news. I am sick of Walmart and other companies trying to use my kids as billboards for over-marketed, over-exposed teeny-bopper Disney slaves. I'm scared and I'm tired and I'm frustrated and I'm paralyzed and I'm fat.

And I don't know what my next move is.

You?