You Can't Hold On To Them Forever

I created this piece yesterday as I was reflecting on motherhood. It really conveys how I was feeling. (And how I still feel.) I like the way the hand is symbolic of holding and yet it is also reminiscent of the myriad of projects created by small children in which they trace their hands. And I like the way the little mirrors echo the Madonna and Child; I love that you can quite literally see yourself in the art. Hopefully, other mothers, will see themselves figuratively as well.

Project Runway

I am addicted to the show Project Runway. I can't get enough. I love to see what the challenge is and what sort of drama develops as the designers try to meet the deadlines. As an artist, I find it inspiring. I truly am a nosy person, and reality TV makes it so easy! Santino is one of the designers this season. He is the opposite of Coco Channel, the minimalist designer. Instead, Santino adds and adds and adds until you think it's impossible to add anything more and then he adds again. This collage is was inspired by his design style. I just couldn't help myself. Santino, this one's for you!

Changes

Many of you know that we have for years shared a family bed. I wasn't sure about it at first, but it was clearly what our child needed. My parents were certainly not happy with it, but the more I researched it, the more evidence I found that it was actually a good and healthy thing. Mostly, our culture has decided that it is important for babies and children to sleep alone and therefore we encourage them to do so. And secretly, I was glad to hear it. I love that we all have some time together, safe and cozy. We established a rule with Hayes as he got bigger and our bed seemed to shrink: He would start the night in his own bed and if he woke up and needed some company, then he was welcome to come in and join us.

So I have mixed feelings about Hayes's recent development. Tonight was the fifth night in a row that he stayed in his own bed all night. He has never had a string this long, ever. I love it that he's not scared and feels comfortable knowing he can be with us if he needs it. But I am sad that I haven't heard his little footsteps pattering down the hall at night this week. It doesn't help that Richard is away and the bed is bigger and emptier than ever.

My Aunt called this morning around 3:30 to let us know that a new little Lahti was born: Matthew Christopher. We weren't expecting him for another couple of weeks. It was such fabulous news! She was so excited to be a grandma and I was so excited that Chris is a dad -- he has waited a long time for this. Don't tell Hayes (or my folks), but after that phone call I couldn't sleep, so I crawled in bed with him for just a little bit. He stayed asleep, but I needed a little warm fuzzy from him. He's growing up -- it's really happening.

Metro Paris

This is an altered book spread that I just finished for a Paris book I am doing. I really love it. It's possibly my best. I should start teaching this again....

BrokeBack Mountain

We went to see BrokeBack Mountain last night. It was incredibly moving. I would highly recommend seeing it. Ang Lee has an amazing way of stripping a story down to it's bones and somehow, this makes it even more beautiful. It's not so raw that you have to look away, embarrassed for yourself and the character. It's simply the most compassionate way of telling the story. I am amazed at the lack of dialog in the movie and yet how passionately the story was told. Ennis say so little and move the plot along in a surprising way. I was reminded of The Ice Storm and Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon. This movie is definately worth seeing. And TransAmerica is my next choice. It opens soon in Naptown. I can't wait.

Good Things

It's so easy for me to believe that I am not making progress, spinning my wheels, even wasting my time. It is especially easy when my child has a day off school. But today I have reached some small and happy goals that I have been working toward for a couple weeks.

I finally finished the auction chair for my son's school. I won't go into how I was roped into this project (I am sure it has something to do with being an artist), but at last I have completed it. It may look like a three-way collision between a crossword puzzle, a child's art portfolio, and a symphony, but it is done and I don't have to look at it any more! Hey, I'm not buying it!

I have also reached the halfway point in a commissioned piece. I can now, at least, contact the client and decide which way to go. I know they sound like small goals and tiny accomplishments, but for me this week, They are indeed, good things. It is good to remember that I have met my goals and have not been spinning my wheels, dispite all evidence to the contrary. Can I play now?

The Love of Money

So I've been wondering, what is it about money that makes me so distrustful? In my life I have been at both extremes of the money tree: we've had more than we knew what to do with, and we've wondered if we would eat tomorrow. This week, I have had occasion to interact with a number of "monied" people as several school events seem to be converging on me, the introvert. I hate these times, because I don't believe I can trust the actions of these people. Why is that? I know in my head that money does not automatically make a person dishonest or false. Some of our dear friends have much more money than we have had and I have never, in 20-odd-years, felt distrustful of their motives. In fact, I, along with the rest of America, would love to have more money and have convinced myself that money alone would solve a multitude of my problems. (And indeed, it may.)

But money makes me nervous. I worry that I could start to value things and my lifestyle over people. I worry that others around me have already begun to do so and in turn I erect my own walls of protection. I worry that the people around me who have money (particularly those I don't know well) are insincere and don't really want to know me either. It reminds me of mega-church in an ironic way. I somehow have convinced myself that these people will be nice to me here and in this place, because there are social dictates to do so. They would never risk showing their true feelings because someone else might find out and then there would be that whole awkwardness about having socially misfired (I think the church likes to call that sin).

So in a strange twist of fate, I have wound up the mother of a student in a private school (which I am convinced meets my child's academic needs 100%) where money seems to abound; birthday parties are a chance to show off your home; designer clothes are the norm and my aging minivan stands out in the crowd in a way that would embarrass most. I tend to wear it as a badge of courage, right beside that chip on my shoulder where the distrust of my heart sits and whispers in my ear. Would more money cure this problem? I seriously doubt it. God help me; we have 9 more years to go.

Wine Shippment

I called the wine club today that was supposed to deliver a shippment of wine by Dec. 31. It is now Jan. 4 and I have not recieved it. When I asked about the shippment the woman told me that UPS had damaged it and it would be shipping again in a week or so. I am the sort of person who thinks in pictures. The image of red wine-stained boxes immediately filled my head. Were there silk sheets in the truck too? What about a new Christening gown? And then I wondered if the UPS man had a very merry Christmas indeed.