A Love Story and a good place to Leap

I have been suffering from writers block when it comes to blogging.  Simply put, FEAR!  I decided that yesterday would be my jumping off point… time to LEAP into it!  Face the Fear… why yesterday?  It was the bittersweet celebration of the LIFE of two extremely important souls in my life that ended 6 years ago in true love story fashion.

On Valentine’s Day, 2006, I was busy organizing and going through boxes that had sat for entirely too long in my bedroom.  I was feeling the elation that the process of organization causes when  finely started a long needed clearing of clutter in one’s life. Just then, the phone rang.  My husband was calling to tell me that my mom had died.  Her death was far from expected.  I had never contemplated the thought of her not being here.  She just always WAS.   It was surreal.  I was floating above the world and I could not find anything to grasp on to pull me back to the ground.

Suddenly, I found myself at the farm where we grew up.  I do not recall the ride there, just the arrival.  There was an ambulance and people all about.  No sense of haste…just people standing, chatting.   I walked slowly to the center of it all. It was like walking through a fog and then in the ‘clearing’ lay my mom…. on the ground as if she had laid down gently and quietly and went to sleep, her hands cupped beneath her head. My father sat over her, crying.  His world turned upside down and never to be the same again.  The days of morning teas and shuffling through bills and the business of the day together were gone…just like that.  One moment she was writing emails while my dad listened to political happenings on a TV where the volume was entirely too loud.  The next, she lay there at the foot of her deck, amongst her sculptures and creations.  Her two faced sculpture on an 8 foot pole leaned over her with it’s sad face showing as if it was mourning it’s creator.   If she could choose where she would die, she would have chosen to die outside among the trees and the fresh air.  She did.

The next year was a year of absolute turmoil for my dad as he struggled with losing her.  His heart was broken….shattered into a million pieces.   He was a short little Indian man with the strength of the warrior and the humor of the jester.  He greeted everyone with ‘Hello My Friend’ and a polite and meaningful wave.  He was a ray of light in your day.  When Mom and he would come to visit, he would sit in our driveway in their old black cadillac, blaring the horn to let us know they had arrived.  It always made us  smile.  If he needed something done, he called whomever he needed to call whether they sat behind the desk of political position or whether they sat behind the wheel of a dilapidated Chevy.  He MADE things happen.  He faced many fears in his lifetime and built a powerhouse of strength in his soul as he faced them. But a broken heart will destroy the greatest of warriors and he was finally defeated.  She was his sword.  She was his armor.  On that Valentine’s Day morning, he was stripped naked and fell into a pit of despair and he would not find his way out.

On Valentine’s Day 2007, a year later, I prepared to mourn the anniversary of my mom’s leaving by joining the family to go Taco Time with dad   (THEIR special place) and visit the cemetery which had become his shrine to her over the past year as he took flowers and objects and decorated her grave almost every day.  The folks at the cemetery recognized a broken heart and they allowed him to break their rules while he wallowed in the pain of losing her.  On Valentine’s Day 2007, I received a phone call in the morning.  “Dad is dead.”  Three words and it was over. He had gone to be with her.  His heart was no longer broken and he was no longer in despair.  He had found his way out of the pit at last.  This earthly world had become his purgatory and he was now free. And now he stood in Heaven, beside his beloved where he finally felt whole again.

My Valentine’s days no longer mean what they did 7 years ago.  They have evolved from a time where at the last minute I would scour the store for unnecessary gifts for loved ones (after all, if you love someone, shouldn’t you show them all year round?), to a mourning of the loss of my soul partner in art and finding the magic in life’s journey (the loss of mom), to a mourning of the loss of both of my greatest teachers in life (the loss of both of them), to a celebration of LIFE for I am grateful for the life I had WITH them and I am grateful for the life I have now BECAUSE of them.  They gave me the gift of sight…to see the beauty in this world and to feel it deep within.  The gift to find the magic in our journey.

So from this day forward, in honor of that gift, I will LEAP!! And I will FLY because that is what they taught me to do.

Seekers are Spilling Out

As of late, I have found myself compelled to create what I am titling ‘Seekers’.  My life’s journey seems to have been a continuous treasure hunt, seeking for clues as to how to see the magic, how to be the magic and how to share the magic.  There are messages everywhere!  I don’t always catch them but when I do, it’s like finding a piece of the puzzle to understanding how to be my best self.

These creations I call ‘Seekers’ are my way of reminding myself of some of the messages that I hear along the way and sharing them with others in an artful and soulful way.  I generally like my creations to be functional so they can serve a purpose in a beautiful way.  I find these ‘Seekers’ to be soulfully functional!

Many times I have little to no clue as to where they are going when the pencil hits the paper.  I just start and they spill out. With each stroke they begin to whisper to me.  I then bring in the ink and as I add the dark lines, it’s as if they are coming through a frosted glass window to stand before me.   I could stop at that point, but they are not ready to.  I then scan them in and digitally color them. Now they begin to really dance!

Digital coloring is a process that I am growing in and it intrigues me…sometimes to the point of irresponsibility when it comes to doing the bills and all those other necessary but soulfully UN-fulfilling and sometimes draining tasks.  I have to drag myself kicking and screaming out of the world of magic and creativity back to the dreaded to-do list.

I’m not sure where the ‘Seekers’ are going and honestly, I don’t know where they came from.  But they are what is spilling out of me right now and they bring a part of who I am into this world and for that, I am grateful.

The Artist In Me

Awakening - An 8 ft sculptural dedication to turning 40 yrs old.

As I walk through the world, trying to find my best journey, I am constantly struck by colors and sounds and words that speak to my heart.  When I take a moment from running about in the haze of everyday life and allow myself to experience one of these many treasures around me, I am filled with a sense of “OK, now I get it!”.  My day is changed, if only for a moment before I sink back into the haze.  My next thoughts are  “Thank you for allowing me the ability to feel that moment.” as I know that when the monotony or craziness of every day life sets back in, I may not readily be able to see the magic around me and for those moments that I can, I am grateful.

Art has been a part of my life since I was a child.  My mom, self-titled “Artista Mama”, was an artist and she continually fostered the artist in me…a mama bird feeding her baby bird’s soul.  If I would show an inkling of interest in an art form, she would be sure to supply me with the right tools so that there would be nothing to stop me if I wanted to learn and play. She spent her lifetime teaching me how to see, how to listen, and how to feel the beauty of this world through her own life as she would snap intriguing photos of dried peeling red paint on the local gas station pump, or create a sculpture inspired by a finding in the wall of imperfect drywall plaster that resembled a man standing on his hands, or share with me new methods she had discovered for creating fairy wings.

Those teachings have nurtured me into an artist.  They are whispers in my soul that at times would be very quiet as I allowed my business-as-usual life to consume me.  But those whispers would always find their way to the top, like bubbles in a fish tank, racing for the chance to burst into the world and express themselves.  But as time has passed, the whispers no longer go nicely to their quiet room.  Now they are screaming to me 24/7.

When I’m working in my shop, I feel an immense sense of peace and tranquility… and an incredible sense of belonging.  The frosting on the cake is when I am successful in creating something that connects to someone else, something that inspires or motivates them or brings joy to them, if even for a moment.

It seems to me that the screaming whispers combined with the sense of purpose I feel when my art work connects with another soul is more than just a random happening.  So it is time for me to take what I have inside of me and spill it into the universe and see what it manifests.  It is my hope that one of my creations will become one of those treasures that YOU will pass in your daily life and it will speak to your heart and then you will be filled with the sense of “OK, now I get it!”, if only for a moment.