2014 - The Year of the boxes

I never thought I'd be gone so long. I'm sorry if I left you hanging, waiting for more.

What I thought would be a brief hiatus for my niece's wedding in early June quickly morphed into  a "trail of tears" through boxes; family dysfunction; more boxes; relocations; still more boxes; acute, chronic and terminal illnesses; even more boxes, and finally; reconcilations followed by... wait for it... BOXES. Although it doesn't seem possible, if you somehow missed the trail marker boxes you would certainly stumble over piles of laundry, uneaten veggies in the frig, small mammal-sized dust bunnies, unanswered emails, unreturned phone calls, unopened mail and broken promises "to get together soon."  I never saw any of this coming, as I guess most of us don't, and was neither prepared to parent my parent nor to talk with my sister about fear, courage and death. 

The past half year has taken an incredible amount of energy. Despite doing my best to eat well, I have lost 15 pounds. Yes, there was some physical labor involved: packing and unpacking boxes, loading and unloading vehicles and moving furniture (again & again). However, it was the emotional toil that caught me off-guard. I felt, and sometimes continue to feel, afraid, overwhelmed and deeply exhausted much of the time. Oh, and then there is the guilt. Guilt because I can't make my mom happy, my sister well, work enough hours, pay all my bills, honor all my commitments, or even get together with my friends. I just can't seem to do enough OR do enough RIGHT.

Since July I have read little, misplaced my unfinished collage, painted only when I could clear enough clutter from the dining room table, and written NOTHING other than necessary emails and a few Facebook status updates. Then I went on retreat, returning with the knowledge that I needed to carve out a place in my house, a creative space/sanctuary/studio/workshop. Clearly this space is now as necessary to my survival as food, water, and air.

My third floor has a front room that is crammed with STUFF.  In its piles of boxes and assorted clutter are the remnants of every job I've ever had, every unfinished project, every "not-so-bright idea", every item I thought I'd repair or repurpose. Hidden among cartons are bins of "left-behinds" from guests and friends who have passed through the room, along with remembrances of those who have passed on from this world. And it's truly UGLY, too.  Boysenberry (looked much better in the can) walls, windows that don't fit well, and a hole in the ceiling from an old roof leak. Not a place, in its current state, where you'd want to spend much time. For the moment it is dubbed THE ROOM OF SORROW AND BROKEN DREAMS because it is the place where I have STUFFED it all, literally and figuratively, for decades. 

Yes, (insert nod to Jenn here) I know the title must change, but for now it is important that I acknowledge the role that room has fulfilled both in my house and my psyche. It is a metaphor for my life, serving as a kind of physical "serenity prayer," changing/fixing the aspects I can, accepting the parts of the room that cannot change and the wisdom to know the difference. Some of this I will only learn as I go, but I must go. Hence I decided to challenge myself with writing nearly everyday about  unpacking; sorting and deciding what to keep, discard, repurpose or give way. I am hoping, insha'Allah, the next 365 days will transform both my life and The Room of Sorrow and Broken Dreams into a place/space beyond my wildest dreams. Both dangers and surprises lie ahead, of that I am certain. On the journey I look forward to hearing from you.

The Woman Who Doesn't Paint - My Guest Essay for "A Beautiful Mess"

Today I am guest blogging at A Beautiful Mess

Come on over and read my essay The Woman Who Doesn't Paint

While you are visiting A Beautiful Mess take a moment to look around at the essays, poems, photo essays, artwork and multi-media posts. I know you'll find something wonderful to touch your spirit. My thanks to Kristen Ritzau and her editor Rebecca Stone for this opportunity.

May's Collage - Eye Candy

I have been regularly attending a Collage workshop at The Makespace, a Harrisburg arts space near my home.  I was in a hurry to get to a picnic last month and didn't take the time to "stick" all my little pieces on the Masonite before I left class. Below is my work in progress.

Since tomorrow is the June collagery gathering, I thought I ought to spread out all my elements and complete the May Project. I had to actually look at the above photo to help me reconstruct it. I did make a few changes and add a couple of additional pieces that aren't in the original. I still think EYE CANDY is the right title.

"Eye Candy" paper collage on Masonite

My very old rose bush is the backyard is covered with blooms. The original cane is nearly 100 years old. The roses are very large and extremely fragrant. The bush blooms prolifically for about 2 weeks and then it is done. So I enjoy them while I can.

Roses with collage

 Have a great day. Don't forget to smell the roses and don't be fooled by the eye candy.

My Dream by Aletheia Schmidt | A Beautiful Mess by Kristin Ritzau

Today's post comes to us from my friend Aletheia Schmidt via Kristin Ritzau's wonderful blog A Beautiful Mess. 

Aletheia is an artist, writer, and spiritual director (you can read her bio as part of her post), but most of all I see her as one who brings forth in the true sense of the phrase. She generates excitement in a room and brings into existence the art that in already there inside us (we participants don't know that yet when we arrive!) Writing about my experience at one of her paint workshops I came to realize how deeply my memories of Junior High Art class informed how I viewed my own creativity for most of my adult life. I am grateful to Aletheia for gently guiding me to bring out for display my own fears and then let go of I can't... long enough to produce something that I like looking at! (Apparently others in my life do, too.)

Long using painting as her prayer, Aletheia recently published Awake my Soul: Contemplative Art Journal.  The beautiful colored journal contains 52 paintings and brief meditations which allow the reader to bring out for display their fears, hopes, dreams, and prayers; and in the process to bear fruit, to yield to what is already there inside.

Kristin Ritzau is another who uses her talents and skills to bring forth the gifts of many women through essays, photography, painting, poems, and prayers.  She and her Managing Editor Rebecca Stone provide a safe space for honesty and inspiration at A Beautiful Mess week after week. Some contributors are published authors and others are those writing publicly for the first time, but all bring out for us something from their hearts and souls.

Be blessed by Aletheia's paintings and brief meditation and Kristin's blog. As Aletheia says "May your heart be encouraged and your soul set free."

My Dream by Aletheia Schmidt | A Beautiful Mess by Kristin Ritzau