Someday, Maybe Soon, I will blog again.

For almost two years I have been working on a massive mosaic installation project.  The installation date has been set for October 19th, 2018, and when it is done, I intend to write about the whole process, the election,  and all the things I thought about in that time.   So if you are here, click on some links.  I post on Instagram every single day.

The Mercy Butterfly - From Concept to Completion

It was back in February when I first heard about Mercy Hospital of Joplin's desire to have a butterfly "decorated" for their garden in commemoration of the the devastating 2011 tornado and consequent new building.  The city of Joplin Chamber of Commerce promoted the butterflies as symbols of hope around the city, with a total of 22 butterflies being erected around the area.  The butterflies are made of steel with a powder coat and were created by Josh at  Forged Waterjet Fabrications.   

When I read the description of what Mercy was hoping for, I knew that this was the project for me, even though I had not yet had "public art" experience.  All those mailboxes I have created were the perfect experience for learning the best process for this metal, outdoor piece.  It took a solid day and the help of my husband to complete the application.  I had not put together a resume in years and I had never made a maquette, but that is what a talented husband and the internet are for!  Knowing that Mercy wanted their logo represented in the design meant I spent a total of about 6 minutes deliberating about the design.  It was really clear in my imagination from the very beginning.  I printed the design specs, did my best to represent mosaic with colored pencils, and cut it out and attached it to a candy stick for the photograph.  It was clear as a bell in my mind, but I was not sure if it would be clear to the jury committee.

Fortunately, about a week later, I heard back that I had been chosen for the job.  No matter that the deadline co-incided almost exactly with The Little Craft Show!  I had total confidence that I could do the work in the time allotted.    It turned out that transporting the butterfly was a major challenge. It was just big enough that I could not fit it in my van.  I had to wait for almost 2 and half weeks before it could be delivered it to me.  By the time we arranged all of that, I had about 3 weeks to complete it.  I spent one of them just looking at it, trying to imagine the logistics of the angles, how much movement the wings would actually have, how to start and how much orange china I would need to find (the red, blue and green seemed easier to round up!)  It was one thing to draw it on paper and a whole other thing to execute on a nearly 6 foot surface, top and bottom, with a significant angle and awkward base. My first reaction when it was delivered was to tell the marketing department that it was a total waste of time to mosaic the bottom:  it sat so low, you would need to crawl under it to see any of the design.  But they were determined, so I pressed ahead.

I was convinced that if I could get the basics of the logo placed on the butterfly, I could get the rest of the wings completed, and so that is where I began. I used solid colored dishes to create the cross and then used a mix of solid and pattern for the rest of the wings.  The cut-outs were trickier than I guessed because I couldn't fit my fingers into some of the spaces.  I can't recall how many nights I worked, but I am grateful for those steady hours I got to work when Whimsy was in bed and I could get "in the zone."

Thank you Natalie for the promo picture!
Obviously, I always work in my Stitchfix clothes 
and my Noonday jewelry! 

Once all the pieces were adhered with silicone, I let it rest for a few days and went back in with a silicone polymer grout.  It was at this point that things got a LITTLE crazy.  About a year ago, I was able to purchase huge bags of grout at a discount because the bags were ripped.  As I worked on some other projects for The Little Craft Show and The Botanical Garden of the Ozarks, the grout started acting very unpredictably. It appeared to be solid but when it was poked or scratched, fell apart like wet sand.  I was mystified and freaked out and headed off to Google to try to figure out what had gone wrong.  It turns out that grout exposed to the air too much will absorb moisture in the air, and complete its chemical process of bonding.  It seems fine, but ultimately cannot further react with water and falls apart.  It was a tough time for a chemistry lesson, and I was horrified to discover the butterfly was showing signs of expired grout.


I found myself in the driveway with a hose and a tiny poking tool, testing all of the grout and picking out any soft spots with the help of the water.  It was a miserable and frightening time, while I chided myself for my lack of experience, lack of knowledge, lack of talent!  To top it off, I had just three days before I needed to deliver it for installation.  Soaking wet and scared, I worked steadily for the whole day and was relieved to find that only one segment seemed to have the "bad" grout. I was able to apply a fresh application with a new, never opened bag, which set up beautifully.  I had plenty of time to obsess over the inevitable shrinkage by the grout in some of the negative space of the logo, and to add a 20 year impregnating sealer that will keep the grout solid and clean.

Then came the fun of transporting the butterfly.  My friend Donny offered his truck and I strategized how to pack it, secure it, and get it there safely.  After contemplating a full foam enclosure, I opted for the simplest version of all :  Three bungee cords and a piece of foam to protect Donny's brake light on the top of the cab.  I spent a solid hour imagining any scenario I could think of that I might encounter en-route, jumping up and down in the bed of the truck to test the movement that could cause the grout to pop from its crevices.  It was a proud lady who pulled into the loading dock of the hospital an hour and half later with the butterfly safe and sound. I know all of my crafting and cake decorating friends know the terror of transport. It seems so simple, but movement can be a real challenge after all your hours of creation and care.

The butterfly was on display at the hospital gallery for a week so people could see it up close, and then Josh was able to create a taller base for the ultimate installation.  What a relief!  It is now tall enough to be visible, but I didn't have to work on it with a 5 foot base!  How funny would that have been?!

Finally,  the hospital asked me to come and speak at the dedication and unveiling.  I should have been more nervous about this than I was, but I wrote my talk on the drive there.  My notes kept slipping up and down on the screen of my phone, but this is what I tried to say:

Hello.

My name is Vanessa and that does mean "butterfly."  You can find me online as The Mosaic Butterfly or Vintage Butterfly Mosaics. Butterflies are a big part of my identity. So this project spoke to me right away. Which kind of makes me feel like my whole life might have ended up differently if my parents had gone with their first idea: Tonya.  

Butterflies are all about transforming something ugly into something beautiful. They are a symbol of hope and life and fresh starts.  As soon as I heard about this project, I had a clear idea of what it would look like and months later, it is just the way I imagined it.

I use broken dishes to create my art. 

Everyone has dishes. They are such an ordinary part of every day life. You could probably look closely at the butterfly and see a bit of a dish you had or your mom or your grandma had. They have memories attached to them of being together, having a meal, living your lives.  

You don't need me to tell you that life is unpredictable. My oldest daughter is here today and so is my youngest. 16 and Surprise! 19 months! Sometimes the unexpected is good but often it is frightening and devastating.  It is my hope that when people see this butterfly, they will be reminded that you can pick up the pieces and go on. That life can be beautiful again after it is ugly.  

I am always interested in what brings real comfort to people when they are hurting. I pay attention to rituals and traditions that people have relied on in the past to face difficult times. There is a Jewish tradition when someone dies that is called "sitting Shiva." You go and sit quietly with someone who has experienced loss. You don't fill up the space with nervous words and cliches. You just sit quietly and be there for them. I find that imagery so beautiful. I hope that when people see the butterfly, they have a sense of someone sitting quietly with them.   

The poet Nathaniel Hawthorne wrote: "Happiness is a butterfly, which, when pursued, is just out of reach. But if you sit quietly, it may a light upon you."  

Thank you for giving me this opportunity   to share my work with you.  I hope it brings hope, happiness and healing for years to come. 

The hospital staff and president were so kind and excited about my work and I was so grateful that Robb,  Mattie and Whimsy could be there with me....especially since it was Whimsy's nap time and she was a total wildcard! The hospital was having a bbq, but we decided to take our cranky baby and go.

As I sit and think of it, my friends supported me so much and helped make this happen.  Donny's truck, Hannah babysitting Whimsy, Natalie taking photos for the hospital's marketing department, and ALL the people who listened patiently while I had minor and major freak-outs... I needed all of them!  It was an excellent learning experience for me as I uncovered some of the unexpected parts of creating a piece of public art.

Other links:
Butterfly Sculptures Taking Flight Across Joplin :

ShowMe the Ozarks Magazine - Various Butterfly Sculptures around Town

Broken China Mosaic Cottage Sign - Two Years in the Making

More than two years ago, my friends asked me to make a mosaic sign for their cottage on Cape Cod.  I love making custom orders, but I always quake inside after making one, worrying that my idea and the client's idea might be too different (so far, that has only happened once, but it was not fun).  Making a custom order for a friend is even more intense because I want a level of perfection that I am never sure if I can deliver and my friends probably never even know I am shooting for. This leads to the inevitable procrastination that most artist struggle with.  In this case, that procrastination had some benefits:  in that LOOOOOONG  process of developing this piece, I created a new technique, found two new products that change the way I work, and ultimately ended up with a piece I couldn't have made two years ago.

my original sketch, from two years ago

We started the collaboration with a peek inside the cottage, which is decorated with beach-y pastels. My friend showed me a collection of signs he liked for inspiration. From there, it was a long wait, because I had just started to mosaic with words and was experimenting with techniques for the best readability.  And then I got pregnant with Whimsy and that REALLY slowed things down, because by that time I had begun cutting letters out with my wet saw.  A session with the wet saw means suiting up in a plastic apron because it sprays water all over the place, not to mention boots and safety glasses.  These aren't fun to wear in the hot summer months, but they are even less fun in the cold.  I couldn't reach the saw well enough with a giant pregnant belly and then I couldn't find a time when the baby was sleeping, but also somebody was home to help take care of her because the saw would wake her up.  It took a long time, but eventually, I got the letters for the double-sided sign all cut out of tile remnants I found at the Habitat Re-Store.  I chose the dark sandy color with an idea of how I would fill out the other colors, but once I cut them out, I realized my original idea was never going to work and had to abandon that idea. I also realized I wouldn't be happy with the sign unless both sides looked exactly alike. My lettering is usually free-form, but I would need to make them match, so I did a lot more drawing and guessing about the sizing, which is frankly just a lucky guess, ultimately. The other labor-intensive part of the lettering was using the Dremel to carve out the interiors of the letters. I didn't cut all the way through these, but rather just took off the glaze, which I knew would capture some grout during the final steps and add a nice weathered texture to the final project.

The other big challenge for the sign was creating something that would survive the elements of a northern beach.  I have finally developed a technique for mailboxes using silicone to attach the china, which allows for expansion in temperature changes. But that is on steel.  I would need to base the sign on wood; and wood and weather don't mix.  I knew from you-tube videos that there was a product that I could coat the wood with to repel moisture, but it took me more trips to Lowes to actually FIND this product than I care to admit.  I was thrown off the hunt because the video I watched showed a product that was pink when wet and dried purple and this product was green and turned a darker teal when dry. Also, the product in the video appeared to be rather gummy and this was more like a finger-paint consistency. And sidenote: after asking literally dozens of male salespeople for help in finding the product, it was a female worker who finally helped me find the product I needed, which had been under my nose in the flooring department the whole time.  (Sensitivity training in home-stores should be required. I can't tell you how many times I've been asked just what "my husband's project" is. A little pet peeve I should write about in another post. I digress.)

With a suitable weather-proofing agent found, I could use a simple birch board as the base for the mosaic, instead of a cedar board, which I couldn't find in my local home-store in the dimensions I needed.  This kept the sign from being too thick and too heavy. I should note that in hindsight, I wish I had attached the eyehooks for hanging at this point, but I was still shopping for sign holders at this point, and was uncertain about the placement.  I ultimately decided that there were more sign-holder options than sands on the shore and I decided to just make the sign and let the sign-holder be a secondary project.

Next came the layout plan.  Since my original sketch did not include all of the words that my friends wanted on the sign, I needed to do a lot of tweaking.  The color of the water-proofing agent really distracted me and more than once, I thought about painting over it with white paint just to help me with the layout. Everyone always asks how long a mosaic takes to make, and this is the time I always think of when they ask. It involves a lot of moving things around, standing on chairs and squinting. In this case, several four-hour sessions passed before I landed on a layout I deemed suitable.  It needed to be friendly, but not juvenile or crafty; and it needed readability without sacrificing beauty.  It should feel like a beach-cottage without being cliche'.  Finally, it needed some structure, or else it was going to be the worst thing ever... boring.

In studying the inspiration signs we first looked at, I noticed a star as a nautical motif that wasn't completely overwhelming and it provided the structure we needed.  Drawing a star on that scale really made me wish I had paid more attention in geometry class.   I finally abandoned my ruler and compass and went with free-handing and eyeballing.  You

know...really technical.

This started the exploration of color and pattern that would have me trying on dishes like my daughter tries on outfits in the morning.  More standing on chairs and squinting, more questioning the universe, and second guessing my life-choices and abilities.  This is the part of the project when you are fully convinced that you are over your head, you will never make this work, and you have made a huge mistake.

So you eat some chocolate and keep at it.  You can give up at this point and take a break, but I have found that this is pretty much the moment when success kisses failure.  If you walk away, you only prolong the agony.  Better to breathe through the pain and hope the labor isn't too long.

no.

no.

no

maybe.

I was a little fixated on the address part of the sign "124 L.C.R" being done with the mosaic dishes, by Pier One.  They literally look like small mosaic tiles. I wanted them to be a nod to my client's love for New York City and the subway signs there. The "sign within a sign" was also one of the motifs in the inspiration pictures.  It's a small allusion, but it was a big deal to me.

At this point, I knew I was close, but it was still lacking the real flourish it needed.  I don't know what set off the sunset gradient idea, but maybe it was my own honeymoon on Martha's Vinyard.  We stayed long enough to watch the sunset before taking the ferry back to the mainland, and consequently almost ended our week-old-marriage by falling asleep at the wheel on the drive back to our Scranton apartment.  

So starting with the cobalt waves, I used some Fiestaware and some not-so-Fiestaware to create the blue.

Next, I use a lovely rare coral-red dish, with a hand-painted effect. I topped this with a salmon color, which has an antique wood crackle design, made by Wedgewood, "Sara's Garden." The pink is a 1950s Luray Pastel.  The yellow is by Royal China, c. 1960s. 

Above the yellow, I used J & G Meakin, English Staffordshire Sterling "Renaissance;" one of my favorites of all time. Green and blue come together in the next pattern, also by Royal China, c. 1970s. I topped it off with a sky blue, unmarked mid-century dish.  Top and bottom are capped with an aluminum channel to help with moisture and to give the eye-bolts strength. To each side, I added a series of small aluminum squares. These are the remnants from the process of making decorative aluminum railings. A sweet friend of mine gave them to me to work with after her husband passed away. It was his business in New Jersey that produced the oddly dimpled little bits of metal. I applied them with silicone glue as well.

Finally, I grouted the piece in white, and applied the eye-bolts. I then added some more silicone to the top seam to divert moisture, and sealed the entire piece, front and back, with professional grade sealer.   I also added a bit of acrylic paint to the interiors of the letters, which will certainly wear over time, adding a nice patina of age that seems appropriate. 

I can't wait to see how it looks in its new home.  Packing up a piece of this size feels a little bit like shipping one of your children, and I am resting better now that I know it arrived safe and sound at its destination.

So now you know how a double-sided mosaic sign is made and you can order one for yourself.  It probably won't take me two years to make another one. Probably.

What I Say When I Mosaic

The more you grow up, the more you realize you can't do everything. I can write a little, but it's not the thing that makes me feel most alive. I was past age 30 before I found something that made my heart sing. And then, once I found it, there was a dull thud that came after: the disappointing moment of realizing, "This is it? This is what I have to offer the world?  This is the instrument I get to play? Really?"

I don't know if you can identify with this feeling at all: maybe you aren't disappointed by the realization of what you AREN'T. They seem to come to me in waves sometimes:

Oh. I'm not going to be an important progressive Christian thinker who easily impacts the world with a special focus on social causes that matter, like adoption, meeting the needs of the poor, overcoming racism in the church, and so many other truly important things.

Oh. I'm not going to be a traditional pastor's wife who everyone can go to at any moment because I'm such a rock-solid emotional brick who can handle every crisis with aplomb because my own relationship with God is an unshakable tower of strength.

Oh. I'm not going to be the mother of four children like I always thought I would be.

Oh. I'm not going to be an Olympic gymnast. (seriously. It took a long time to get over that one. I practiced cartwheels for hours of my life in the backyard. Made a balance beam out of a two by four and cement blocks and everything. It still stings a little.)

Much as it does sting, there is also something healthy, I think, about just accepting these things about myself. I've come to think, over the course of the past few years, that people, and especially Christians, trying to be something they aren't, is one of the biggest problems the church has. We chase celebrity status. We guilt ourselves for NOT being our heroes. We try to be something we aren't, and that God never intended us to be because we think it's holier or more important or more like Jesus.  But the thing is, that God made us individuals. He took so much care to make us all different from one another. I've come to think that one of the best ways we could ever serve God and the kingdom is to figure out who we are and be that without comparing ourselves to anyone else.

So a few months ago, I embraced the suck. I'm an introverted, emotional, untrained artist who feels closest to God when I mosaic from old broken dishes.  It's ridiculous. What a silly thing to offer the world. And yet, what a stunning picture of how God chooses to work in the world: God shows up through the weak, foolish, broken things: people. The church. And how better to show how amazing God is, than to show divine power and creativity through such limited materials.

So for the past few months, sometimes consciously and sometimes unconsciously, I have created a little differently.  I have made mosaics knowing that this is my voice. This is the best way I have to say who I am and who God is to me and how I see the world and how I am trying to make it better. In case you ever wonder why I don't write more, or sing, or play the guitar or teach children's church or join a choir or become a social worker or participate more in debates and conversations or preach more sermons or share more articles on Facebook or run more programs or anything else that I often feel guilty for NOT doing....well, it's because it takes more faith to believe that God can use what I do, who I am.  It's a ballsy, bold, brassy thing to say "THIS (not that) is my calling."

Not everyone will understand what I am saying when I mosaic. But this is at least some of  what I am trying to express:

Just because it's broken doesn't mean it isn't useful or beautiful.

Pain doesn't have to be for nothing. 

Think before you throw it away. 

Beauty takes surprising forms. 

History matters. 

Mixing different colors, eras and themes can be therapeutic.

Anybody can create from perfect situations and materials, but creating from imperfection takes something special.

You can't rush the process.

Sometimes it doesn't work.

Not everything is ready for transformation. 

I can't control much, but I can make a pattern to follow. 

A broken thing in a mosaic is a lot stronger than the thing ever was in its original state. 

We respond differently to perfect things than we do to redeemed things.

At some point in anything really good, I stand back and think "This is a freaking disaster." 

Just because I like doing it, doesn't mean it isn't hard work. 

I can't make a mosaic every day. At least not a good one. 

What you love can hurt you. Almost every mosaic has a little bit of my blood in it. 

I feel like God when I create.  I know something about God that I didn't know before. 

I hate waste. 

Talk is cheap. I know you have a box of dishes you are going to try this with. I did it.

You can't fake this shit.

It's almost never what I envisioned. Sometimes it's better. 

Rejoice in what I do. I'll rejoice in what you do. We need each other.

I had to be alone to make this. 

I do realize just because I used garbage doesn't always mean it is actually art. 

There really is only so much you can polish a turd. I will price it accordingly.

I can only do so much. 

 This is me, saving the world. (This is also you saving the world.)

It's ok if you don't get it.

Maybe someday I'll learn how to do something else.

What I Learned from a Very Successful Etsy Seller

We all learn in different ways.  My husband learns by listening. If he focuses on what he is hearing, he can absorb the information, organize it, synthesize it and recall it with ease.  He quit taking notes in college when he realized he could do this. He enjoys podcasts and news radio.  He can recall a sermon he heard from college and what the main points were.  It's really amazing. I am not that way at all.  Many people are visual learners.  A lot of information is absorbed visually, especially through reading.  This is only my secondary version of learning.  The best way for me to learn is kinesthetically. I learn by doing. Yesterday, I learned how to change the drain pump motor on the dishwasher by doing it.  That's how I learned to paint my walls, remove carpet, lay tile floor, sell on Etsy, make mosaics, work in an office, parent my kids and be in a healthy relationship.  I learned by doing it. 

Last month, I started working with Stacie Bloomfield, the creative behind Gingiber, a very successful Etsy shop.  (Stacie and I met at a craft show which was an utter disaster in most ways, but a Providential act of God in others.)  Her shop has grown now to the point of needing some extra help shipping her orders and getting her inventory ready to ship.  In December of 2011, she was a featured seller, just about the time her daughter Lucy was born.  She blogs about being in labor and getting up and filling Etsy orders before heading to the hospital!  This year, she developed a licensed Razorback illustration which is getting a lot of love here in Arkansas.  She is also developing a line of dog illustrations with a new illustration each week featuring different breeds of dogs.  She makes pillows, calendars, baby onesies, tote bags, post cards, art prints, posters, tea-towels and wall decals. And I know for a fact, she has no shortage of ideas.  Her work is fresh, young, distinctive, whimsical and appealing to audiences world-wide.  She is living the dream...which means she works REALLY hard. 

For the last couple of years, I too have been toiling away in my Etsy shops.  I was trying desperately to get them to grow to a point of being a significant portion of our family's income. It wasn't greed that was driving this desire, but rather, the desire to get Robb out of working a job outside of Vintage.  When we started Vintage, we planned to be "sponsored" by others until the church was self-supporting, much like missionaries.  The problem was, nobody supported us.  Because we were breaking ties with the teaching of our denomination, our network didn't support us. And nobody else knew us.  So for the first few years of Vintage's existence, we got two support checks a month: one from a dear lady in Boston and one from a family member. The checks totaled about 75 dollars.

Now almost 8 years later, Robb is successful at his day job.  His resume no longer consists solely of "Bible-this" and "Church-that."  But we always deal with the pressure. Saturdays will never be just a day to goof-off. And those wonderful Monday days off -back in the years of full-time-ministry- are just a hazy dream.  Not to mention the frustrating ceiling hanging over us all the time that if only he could work at Vintage full time, he could do so much more. So I worked. As hard as I could. First selling vintage on Etsy. Then making mosaics. Fully believing that they could become the way....the way to free Robb up.  The way to help our church.  The way to what we thought was best.

But it didn't happen. My Etsy shops have always brought in exactly enough. Enough for the extra bill we didn't expect. Enough for Christmas. Enough for new jeans every fourteen days while Mattie was going through a growth spurt. Enough for a nice family outing or an anniversary present. Never any more than that.

So I worked harder.  I made more mosaics.  Worked like dog. Improved my pictures. Poured over the Seller's Handbook and followed their every bit of advice.  Sales decreased. I actually sold less than I did in the first two years I was selling on Etsy.  The marketplace was flooded with vintage sellers exiled from eBay and I became a needle in a stack of needles.  And the mosaics just got lost in the shuffle.  Shows are wildly successful endeavors, but the Etsy shop moves a piece or two a month at best.  They are large, heavy and hard to ship. So I tried branching out....took the space in Eureka Springs. Surely, with more people passing by, I would sell those large pieces I like to make.  But it's hot in the summer and parking is a nightmare and selling in Eureka proved disastrous.

So when Stacie mentioned she needed help, I sort of blurted out "I could do that."  After all, I've shipped thousands of things in the last 10 years.  I know how to do it. And I know how an Etsy shop runs. I know how to use all the features. Why not?  So I started going to her newly rented office.  And it was fun.

First off, I get paid by the hour.  This is a crazy thing for someone who has been running my own shops.  I could work fifty hours straight and get NOTHING out of it.  There is no correlation between how hard I work and if I get paid.  But at Gingiber, I clock in and clock out.

Dr. Micheal Firmin

Dr. Rembert Carter

Secondly, I remembered what it was like to be helpful.  Back in college, I worked for two professors...Dr. Carter and Dr. Firmin.  They were both incredibly intelligent, creative, hard working and driven.  Dr. Carter famously slept only 4 hours a night. He pastored churches, some as many as three hours from his home, taught two of the largest classes in the school, held extra study classes, kept up an insane amount of correspondence pre-email days, not to mention leading field trips, grading papers, and hosting "socials" in his home for students and faculty alike.  Dr. Firmin was in the midst of a second doctoral degree with an enormous number of field hours, was founding a Master's in Counseling program, teaching most of the psychology classes, administering personality tests as part of the Seminary training, writing and publishing in academic publications, and oh, yes, pastoring in local churches as well as being a young husband and father.  I loved working for both of them.  I think I was rather good at it, actually.  I was not really secretarial material, couldn't type fast enough, wasn't always as detailed as I needed to be, sometimes forgot important things, but what I was very good at was supporting them. I knew what they were doing that day and worked to make their days run smoothly.  They knew they could depend on me. Early in the morning or late at night, they could call and ask me to find something, file something, deliver something or get something prepared.  I knew their quirks: Dr. Carter was messy and left to own devices might have been buried under the weight of his own dusty piles of papers. Dr. Firmin hated cheap pens and would throw them over the 4th floor banister if I happened to let one in the door.  Dr. Carter was a morning person. Dr. Firmin was a night-owl.  I got more of an education from working in their offices than I got in some professors' 3 credit hour courses. 

I bring that to Stacie's office. And she is so grateful.  She has so many decisions to make. So many hats to wear.  She is busy, busy, busy all the time.  Each time I go to her office, I think about what will make things better for her, how I can contribute to her success and mental well-being. I think about how to organize things better so that things will go more smoothly. I try to create systems that require the least amount of bother for her. I understand her goals and try to help her achieve them.

I was there about a week when I realized this:

I don't want my Etsy stores to be this successful. 

I was there about two weeks when I realized this:

I enjoy being supportive.

It took three weeks to ask this question:

Why couldn't I be this supportive to Robb as he is trying to lead Vintage forward?

You see, I learn by doing.  I learn what I like by doing it.  I realized by opening myself up to this new opportunity with Gingiber that what I actually want and what I thought I wanted are two very different things.  I finally admitted to myself that even though I still like making mosaics and selling vintage, I don't want to do it full time. If I had to make mosaics at the rate that Stacie sells, I would be my own personal sweat shop.

What I actually want to devote my life to is the work at our church, Vintage Fellowship.   I felt myself let go of the idea of the wildly busy and successful Etsy shop. I let go of the idea of it being the way to support Robb and our church.  About four weeks into it, I realized this:

I don't have to worry about the money anymore.

Whatever we need, and whatever Vintage needs will be there.  All I need to do is enjoy selling vintage and mosaics, but don't be driven by the fear that I must do more and grow bigger.  Other things can have my attention.

Ironically, sales are up. Way up.  I am thankful.  I recognize this as a kind of confirmation that pursuing a new-found joy in the work of the ministry won't lead to our finances falling apart.

What exactly does this look like?  Am I saying that I "work" for Robb like I do for Stacie? What fills my time now?  I will write more later.  Right now, I have to pack a bunch of orders and find out how to ship a headboard to an interested buyer on the west coast.  And finish a custom order.  Have I ever mentioned just how much I love irony?

Crafting a Beautiful Life

I have been struggling with insomnia for a little over a week now.  I wake up like clockwork at 3:30 a.m.  I do some thinking and then I try to discipline myself to do an exercise a friend told me about that really does help me sink back into sleep if I work at it:  I subtract 7 from 100 until I fall asleep.  It is so boring, inevitably, I drift off before I can reach 65.  It helps that I am terrible at mental math. Scientifically speaking, it works because it accesses the dull, logical part of my brain, not the part that is feeling everything. 

Last night while I was in the thinking stage, I thought maybe I would just write a bit about what my life looks like these days because it is changing.  It always helps me to come back to my blog and see how much things have changed in my life after a certain amount of time has past.  I'm blogging this for my own benefit more than anything.

So this is how I am spending my life right now:

Three days a week I get up and go the gym. In January, almost inexplicably, I started running for the first time in my life. I will be writing more about that soon.

On Mondays and Thursdays, I spend a couple of hours at Stacie Bloomfield's office, otherwise known as Gingiber LLC headquarters.  Stacie is an enormously successful and incredibly hard-working Etsy seller who has grown to the point of needing some contract labor to help ship her orders.  I have so enjoyed this and learned some things that I will be writing about too.

On Tuesday nights, I am leading an Experimental Collective focused on using used items to help others.  So far, we have watched "The Story of Stuff,"  an excellent overview of consumerism in America.    I will definitely write more about this as we physically disseminate a huge pile of "stuff" that has been donated by Vintage Fellowship for the exercise of learning to be better consumers, better donators, better philanthropists, better citizens of the world.

I am currently a tenant in two flea markets: my booth at the Fayetteville Trading Post is being used by the Experimental Collective to generate cash for our experiment, but it does have quite a bit of my stuff in it still as I am phasing out this booth from my sole responsibility. I also have a space at the 410 Vintage, where my idea was to sell off some of my large mosaic projects.  So far, it hasn't been a big money maker.  I'm going to give it another few weeks and see if it takes an upswing.  Flea markets take time, though, and I'm not sure I want to keep spending it there.  The jury is still out on this.

I am still operating my Etsy stores selling vintage in The Classic Butterfly and mosaics at The Mosaic Butterfly.  These are still a big part of my life and a great creative outlet. 

I also spend a portion of time at Heartwood Gallery where I display my smaller mosaic works (because of space limitations.)  I really enjoy working on displays in the whole gallery and that seems to be my best contribution to this collective of artists.  

Another small side project right now is assisting my good friend Holly Shacklett as a substitute helper in her organizing business.  She has a business partner, but sometimes she needs some extra hands, and that really satisfies a part of me that like to make a real, tangible difference. 

Robb and I have begun to collaborate on a podcast.  This tool for promoting his book is a really fun way for us to open the conversation up to other people to tell their stories of transition and transformation.  So far we have interviewed two really interesting guys and continue to work out the kinks of technology.  This project really excites me because it allows people in on something that Robb and I are good at....talking to one another about the things that we have devoted our lives to.   I will definitely be writing more about this too. 

It seems at times that I am too busy.  But the truth is, that these things take up as much time as I let them.  Recently, l came to the conclusion  that my life was missing a big rock in my big jar of pebbles.  It's easy to fill up my time on Facebook or Pinterest, hovering over my online stores and the promotion that is necessary for them, and other really secondary things. I have made some big realizations in the last month thanks to my activities. Doing things has helped me learn things that I wouldn't know otherwise.  I look forward to sharing more about that soon.  But for right now, these are some of the things that I am devoting my time and energy towards.  I am really fortunate to have the freedom to weave my life this way, but it has also been very deliberate.  Exploring what you want out of the life you have been given is important work. 

How to Make a Mosaic Headboard - The Lost Post

I had a reader contact me the other day asking what ever happened to the last two steps I mentioned when writing the mosaic headboard posts.  With all that was going on around the fall show, I must have forgotten to write about those steps. 

So to help the reader out, let me finish up now. 

Once the glue is good and dry, in this case, about a week later...it's time to grout.  I'd like to point out that letting the glue dry completely is very important, especially on a wood base like this headboard.  If you try to grout too soon, the wood will warp.   I don't know exactly why this happens, but I have made this mistake several times on wooden bases like table tops, a lazy susan and a wooden sign.  It's a strange reaction too, because it doesn't happen right away. It will be about a week later that you notice the grout cracking apart and the wood curving.  Eventually, it will dry out and curve back into place, but by that time, the grout will be compromised and you will need to re-do it, so by all means, just wait and let the glue cure for longer than the recommended time on the packaging.  As my dear mentor/professor in college used to say, "Perfection takes a little longer."

I have read a few theories about choosing a grout color, but I just go with my gut.  I tend to like darker colors over light ones, which for me tend to look too baby sweet.  I like the more serious even masculine look of darker grout because I think it brings a contrast to the very feminine look of floral china.  More important than the color is the choice between sanded or unsanded grout.  I have used both and let me tell you, sanded grout is just much easier to work with for me.  Unsanded grout is best for very small spaces between pieces. It cannot be used on a mosaic with a space of more than 1/8 of an inch.  I only really use it for non-functional 2 dimentional framed work and even then , I don't really love it. 

So on this project, I used sanded grout. I mixed several batches since it does begin to dry out after 15 or 20 minutes, so making batches gave me a longer working time.  I mix in large yogurt tubs since our recycling center doesn't take number 5 and 6 plastic. I fill the cup and then add water slowly, mixing it to the consistency somewhere between peanut butter and yogurt. 

Grouting is easily the messiest part of the whole deal, so work somewhere with the floor draped in plastic, and where you don't mind sweeping up a lot of sand and particles.  It's not as messy as dry-walling, but it's pretty close.

Slowly work the grout in, in a circular motion, squeezing it into every crack.  As it dries, the grout becomes more like the consistency of cake icing with the sand like undissolved sugar. The sand is abrasive, so be mindful of your china and try not to rub it hard over hand-painted porcelain and other delicate surfaces because it will remove the pattern if you are too zealous.  This is an exciting part of the project because you are getting your first glimpse of the finished product.  As you work the grout into the gaps, the grout will begin to dry with a bit of a frost over the surface of the china.  As this begins to happen, use a dry sponge or my favorite...old mismatched socks to begin to buff the grout off the china.  Do not use a wet sponge at this point because it will smear too much. 

It's a good idea to wear gloves, but I usually don't. Officially, that's really bad for you, etc.  Unofficially, I like to be able to feel the grout at this point. But it really dries your hands out and I often get cut at this point.  I started wrapping each knuckle with cloth bandaids before I grout so that I can feel what is happening AND protect the high points of the hands where I am mostly likely to get cut. 

Don't be cleaning up or dumping your grout tools in the sink or down any of your drains. You think it will rinse down, but it won't. It will settle in any low point and build up there until you have a plumbing disaster.  Keep a bucket of water on hand to soak your tools until you can take them to a outdoor spigot or hose. Grout is just prettier concrete so it should be treated accordingly.

Keep buffing and polishing until the grout is out of the low points on top of the china, but not so intensely that you pull it back out of the cracks.  In a couple of hours, the grout will be set and you won't be able to change much without a lot of miserable picking.  You will begin to see the china looking shiny again. When you get it looking the way you like it, walk away.  Get a drink. Rub your hands with Mary Kay's Night Emollient Lotion. You will smell like an old lady, but your hands will thank you. 

After the grout dries, you may want to seal the grout.  This is the final step.  It isn't strictly necessary on this kind of piece which isn't really going to see a lot of water, like a birdbath or mailbox, but I did go ahead and seal it with a grout sealer just to make it really tight. 

Grout sealer can be painted on with a soft brush or you can buy spray on. The benefit of the brush on is that you get more control. The benefit of the spray on is that you can use it right away, and not have to wait until the grout cures for 24 hours or more.  The most important part of grout sealing is to keep your head in the game and not let it dry on the china and make it cloudy.  If that happens, you can scrub it off with a paste of baking soda and water, but really, after you have worked this hard, you don't want to be scrubbing more at this point.  Use more socks or ripped up t-shirts to finish buffing, and then touch up any paint that was damaged during grouting. 

Now stand back and admire your work.  You did it. Bully for you.