Counting my blessings: My Creative Nook

It’s sometimes a challenge to live in a “small” space, but it is how we have chosen to live for today. I put “small” in quotes because I know of entire families who live in huts smaller than my living room, and they are grateful for a dry place to sleep. Maybe adequate is a better word. We live in an adequate one-bedroom apartment. Really, adequate isn’t quite the word either. It’s more than enough.

Today, I am thankful that I have a few square feet perfectly suited to be my creative nook. I am thankful for my recently-tuned-up sewing machine. I am thankful for a nice stack of fabric, projects in process, huge windows that drench my home in a southern exposure, roses from Tough Guy that are hanging upside down to dry (I think I might need more though… ), plenty of canvas and paint, lots of pencils (I still can’t find my pencil sharpener though). I am thankful that this nook is near my dining room table, which is a perfect surface on which to lay patterns onto fabric and make big messes. I am thankful that this nook is near my kitchen–I feel like my creativity can spill easily from one area to the other, and I love the smell of baking and cooking. I am thankful for the little spot I’ve cleared out very near to my creative nook. In this little spot will go my baby’s swing.

I wanted to take a picture of the current configuration of my sewing/art/craft/cookbook storage area. It is always changing, as my projects are always changing. My favorite parts of it right now are the little glass bowl of spools of thread and the newspaper baskets, which I made using this tutorial. Here are some pictures:

The newspaper basket looks wonkier than it actually is! I plan to seal the baskets (which will make them shiny) and add black trim around the edges. Yay for homemade and imperfect and shabby chic!

It is good for my heart to stop and be thankful. Now it’s time to stop blogging and start creating. Almost done with the slipcover, and there is granola to bake!

The Blank Page writing workshops

So a fun gig dropped in my lap recently.

I have participated in both the generative and revisions writing workshops offered by Christin Taylor, and have recently been invited to participate in a new and stretching way: as a facilitator! That is, I get to read the work of other passionate writers, offer encouragement, and foster community and discussion in an online workshop. I am beyond thrilled as this is actually an answer to a feeble prayer I offered up a few weeks ago, asking God to let me work with writers again, as I did with Namesake magazine.

I am so excited to be part of Christin’s passion for community within the creative process of writing. She has such an ability to coax writers toward more without intimidating or overwhelming them–I found this to be true for myself as a participant. The format of the workshop is comfortable and compelling. I cannot possibly recommend her workshops more highly.

The first workshop I get to lead begins April 1, in just a few days. It is a generative workshop. That is, the goal is to generate new creative writing. The first workshop I participated in had a wide variety of writers–some who had had work published and others who wrote for pleasure. If any of you are interested in participating, please visit Christin’s website, christintaylor.com, to read more and sign up.

Friday, the day set aside

I have learned that if I do not devote time to creativity, creativity will not happen for me. It gets swept aside in favor of more important things. Perhaps I should put the word in quotations, “important,” because are they really more important, if life is a vapor? It is creativity that invites beauty into this broken world, sweet smells of new recipes concocted, the rest for my soul I receive from time spent in my sketchbook, the release of piecing together words, the satisfaction of a painting in bloom. Without these, what value are the more “important” things? What is a bathtub scrubbed clean? It becomes just a place to rinse off the monotonous day’s work before one retreats to bed to repeat the process the next day… and the next… Creativity turns a clean bathtub into a retreat, a house into a sanctuary, the week and weekend into a whole, rather than a week to endure and the weekend to live for, the “important” things into particles of a vapor.

Today, Friday, is the day I get to make all of the “important” things matter. Today I worked on one of my dumpster-treasure windows, using acrylic paint and bistro pens. It was inspired by this artist’s blog entry, “Paisley Practice.” Isn’t it whimsical?

I am perching this above my kitchen cabinets, next to my “Nest” sign (I think there’s a photo in the Studio). We have high ceilings, spans of emptiness that are perfect for big art like this. I would take a picture of the final presentation, but I have been banned from lifting heavy things and from climbing ladders for the duration of this pregnancy, maybe even longer. If The Man of the House comes home and finds heavy things in high places, a violation of both bans, I get a talking to that goes something like this:

“I told you to wait until I get home. I will lift it for you.”

“I know.” I hang my head in shame. “I really wanted to see what it would look like.”

“You couldn’t wait four hours?”

“No. I lack patience.” Hang head a little lower. “I won’t do it again.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.” I am locked into the agreement. I promised. So this heavy glass window stays on the floor until Steven comes home. He has been working overtime lately, so I may never get to see what this looks like in its place. The last few hours before he comes home just drag on. They drag. This is me throwing myself onto the couch with the back of my hand to my forehead, in a mock swoon. It’s going to be forever. I have always felt this way, even when there was nothing heavy to lift. I wrote this poem for him a couple of years ago while he was in class. Seriously. I lack patience.

It takes quite a guy to be married to this. Off to scrub the bathtub.

What do you do?

Steven and I have met some new people in the past couple of weeks, and of course as we were mingling, the question came up, “What do you do?” My answer changes with the seasons, but these days it usually goes something like this:

“I am a homemaker. Mostly. I am also a writer and an artist. I tutor in writing and art. I am the assistant editor for a fledgling publication namesake, which is an online arts and faith journal. That’s been on hold for some time, but I am excited to begin working on that again.” Lately, as we’ve gone public with our news, it’s been fun to add, “My current project is pregnancy. I grow organs on a daily basis. It’s hard work.” That always draws a laugh, but it’s true! Pregnancy is a job and a half!

I realize that many of my readers have been following through the ups and downs as a writer and an artist. So I thought I would give an update as to how various projects are going.

The Gallery of Wings

I was surprised, when I sat down with the first 6×6 canvas to paint a set of wings for a bereaved mother, at how readily the tears flowed. Every painting required so much emotional energy from me, and it was so therapeutic to enter into the Valley with other mothers through art. I felt like I was connecting with Sam in such a healthy way. Looking back, I think I was offered a taste of how much joy I am going to get out of this project when it is really time to get it going. It simply is not time. I need to concentrate on grieving my own loss well, and I need to concentrate on being Junebug’s mother. This is the ministry I am called to for now. To everything there is a season. I am confident that the momentum for the Gallery of Wings will come in just the right season.

Aviv Publishing

We finished our first edition of namesake in August of 2009. This was accomplished with a small, amateur staff on a part-time basis. We met once a week in Becca’s basement, and communicated during the week by email and text. It was such a triumph to see the magazine published at our little staff release party. We all screamed. A few days later, Steven and I learned we were pregnant  with sweet Sammy. The editor, my good friend Lauren, began dating the guy who became her husband in October. Other staff began new jobs, had babies, moved. It was a time of personal transition for almost every staff member, and Aviv went through a time of hibernation.

Once again, to everything, there is a season. We are excited to feel the first stirrings after a long time of rest. The dream of publishing a second edition of namesake is still alive and well. I hope to keep you posted on how things progress. I know it will all happen in perfect timing. For now, just know that the dream is very much alive!

Art projects

The most pressing project I have right now is The Family of Birds. I give a little explanation as to what the painting means to me in this blog entry.

I also have two glass windows (a.k.a. the glass canvases) that I want to do a carnival scene on for our living room, but there’s no deep emotional meaning for that. It will just be a complicated project because I have to paint everything backwards. I’m looking forward to getting this piece done so my living room can look awesome!

Writing projects

I’m getting back to blogging finally, which is wonderful for my heart. During my time of writer’s block, I joined an online writing workshop led by Christin Taylor. I am about to participate in round two. For any aspiring writer at any level, her workshops are such gems. It’s impossible to finish the workshop, having given 100%, and not be a better writer. For those interested, follow the link to learn more about the Blank Page Writing Workshops.

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I write all this down, and I feel like I sound sort of busy. But the reality is that most of my energy is devoted to Junebug, and my days are mostly quiet and contemplative. There are plans of baby cribs and rockers and hiking slings, and I do believe it’s safe to say… the nesting hormone is coursing through  my veins at full-strength. Even Daddy’s caught the nesting bug! I’m certain he has done more car seat research than anyone I know. We are excited to welcome this sweet baby into our little family. And I am excited to continue to be creative, letting each project thrive in its season.

So long! Farewell! Auf wiedersehen! Goodbyyyye!

Today is the day I say, “Farewell,” to four paintings that have been so filling and inspiring during this season. Off to your new owner, you four, but first let me dedicate this song to you.

I remember when you were just blank canvases *sniff* and now look at you. All bright and cheery and covered in paint. Sometimes I can’t believe how fast the paint dries. My tiny kitchen/studio will never be the same without you. In memory of the lovely paintings, entitled Unity, Roots, Spring, and Prayer, a few photographs…