.

"Beware the barrenness of a busy life." - Socrates

(If you'd like to own this as a print, you can get it here.)

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Merry Christmas, friends. <3

Mum.

Made a pair of hand-painted linen napkins for my mum's Christmas present. Something special for her and hubby to use at the table or in front of the television. ;)

New work.

Some new goodies up in the shop (link in sidebar). I had so much fun making these. :)

My Ten Favorite Books of 2015.

1. Life After Life by Kate Atkinson.

2. The Yellow Eyes of Crocodiles by Katherine Pancol.

3. The Paris Wife by Paula McLain.

4. Jesus Feminist by Sarah Bessey.

5. The Calligrapher's Daughter by Eugenia Kim.

6. How I Live Now by Meg Rosoff.

7. Wicked by Gregory Maguire.

8. Hanna's Daughters by Marianne Fredriksson.

9. Where'd You Go, Bernadette by Maria Semple.

10. Flight Behavior by Barbara Kingsolver.



There are SO many more books I wanted to include on this list, including books written by friends, but I only wanted to list books I've finished. I'd also like to note that the books listed above aren't in any particular order (number one is NOT number one), as I love them all equally for various reasons.

What's the best book you read this year?

"Everybody is going to hurt you; you just gotta find the ones worth suffering for." -Bob Marley

Thankful.

So thankful for:

- construction paper turkey's
- Nutella cake that filled the entire house with brownie smell
- my mom, who comes up with insults like "penis-schnitzel"
- The Husband, for picking up the lego's and washing the dishes while I figure out this homeschooling gig
- the ever-transcendent power of dance
- new watercolor sketchbooks that crack deliciously when opened the first time
- my boy, who says things like "I'm thankful life is beautiful."
- eating Thanksgiving dinner with reggae music playing
- friends in dresses who paint; friends in pants who crochet
- coffee and grilled cheese sandwiches
- tossing around a tiny Nerf football with my son, brother, husband and step-dad
- old, soft blankets on messy, unmade beds
- the moon, the stars, the sky, the trees
- to be surrounded by enough people, sounds, smells, laughter. Enough to forget about the lonely days, the tired weeks, the poor months

New print!

Happy Thanksgiving, all! I have a new print up in the shop, along with some other goodies. If you're interested, you can get one HERE.

Art Class.

Our first official art "class": still-life paintings inspired by Frida Kahlo's "Fruits of the Soil".

*Christmas, 2013*

Changes are happening, what I think will be good ones. I'll be homeschooling my son. The paperwork is filed and everything is official. I'm flying blind but I don't feel lost. I hope to write more in-depth about it later.

In my research about homeschooling, I came across an old thread about homeschooling on a low-income budget. Not only did it give me a lot of hope and incentive to begin, but I came across something a one woman said, something I love. I, of course, didn't save this page and can't find it now, but she said something like this:

"You create the life you want. It's YOUR life. I can't believe how little it matters to so many people. Make it happen if you want it."

Things Men Have Said To Me:

I'm too sensitive.

I'm not sensitive enough.

I could "be sweeter".

I need to toughen up.

I'm too quiet.

And when I'm happy, I'm too loud.

I'm mature.

I act like a child.

I worry too much.

I'm not concerned enough.

I need to relax.

I need to stay on it.

Being sick makes you different, in a good way.

Being sick makes you different, hard to understand.

I'm difficult.

I don't ask for much.

I'm wonderful.

I'm a spoiled little princess.

It's okay to cry over your imperfections.

You think you're so fucking perfect, don't you?

You expect so little of people.

You expect too much of people.

If you lowered your standards, you'd fit in better.

If you prayed, you'd feel better.

If you smiled, you'd be prettier.

You fucking women.

You fucking women.

I'm still around; super-busy dealing with some crazy-intense fibro symptoms. I think it's due to the seasons changing.

I am so thankful that I have art as an outlet. Seriously. If I was trapped in this body without my creativity, I think my soul would just shrivel up and blow away.

The Long Goodbye

"The Long Goodbye". Watercolor/acrylic on canvas. If you'd like a print, you can get one HERE.

Prints are up!

Prints are now up! You can also get this as a tote, pillow, duvet, or shower curtain, if that's your thing. I'm really happy with how this one turned out.

Go HERE to get yours.

Rainy day painting.

I'll have a pretty new print up in the shop soon!

swim like fuck.

"She had to do more than hold on. She had to reach. She had to want it more than she'd ever wanted anything. She had to grab like a drowning girl for every good thing that came her way and she had to swim like fuck away from every bad thing. She had to count the years and let them roll by, to grow up and then run as far as she could in the direction of her best and happiest dreams across the bridge that was built by her own desire to heal."
-Cheryl Strayed, Tiny Beautiful Things

What I Did This Summer.

I hiked and biked. Not nearly as much as I wanted, but I did it. This summer was the summer of fighting against pain to do the things I wanted to do.

I visited a pool that had "adult swim time", which my mom and I agreed would be a stellar title for a dirty romance novel.

I walked to the tops of the highest hills I could find, then sat there for a while enjoying the view. I thought a lot and reassessed a lot of things, trying to decide what truly matter to me now at almost-30.

I went to the beach with my family. It wasn't the greatest vacation we've ever had. There were a lot of complications and problems I won't go into here, but there were also moments like this, watching the people I love run around in the sand, free and happy, the best versions of themselves.

I ate a lot of watermelon and a lot of late-night pizza. I drank kahlua and cream, iced coffee, and wine (not at the same time). I got tipsy with my mom over the most liquor-filled sangria I've ever had.

I watched my son ride a horse for the first time. I watched him fall in love with it. He wants to grow up and be "an engineer and a cowboy".

I made a lot of art. I painted and glued and collaged. I burned out and started up, over and over again. I battled a lot of demons with a paintbrush.

I finally opened up an online shop.

I started hoopdancing again. I felt my body remember how to do the movements, and as a result, felt more connected to myself than I have in a long time. It's nice to be capable, no matter how small the accomplishment.

I made fresh tomato soup, and homemade french fries, and granola. I picked and dried dandelion and plantain and red clover. I made sun tea and dried apple chips and eggs benedict.

I cried a lot. Living with fibromyalgia of ever-increasing severity is no joke. There are days where I am seriously in trouble and there's just not enough help to be had. So I let myself cry, and cry often. There is so much to work through when you live with chronic pain.

I sat out on my porch during thunderstorms.

I watched my son grow tall and lengthen and lose the last of his tiny-boyness, which broke my heart. I made a lot of love and had a lot of arguments. I took long drives through the trees. I woke up with the sunrise on good days and let myself sleep in on the bad ones. I read some amazing books, watched a few movies from my childhood, most notably Little Women and The Secret Garden. I despaired over being so poor, then rejoiced over the simplest things, like homemade marinara sauce, and butter on good bread. I made myself underwear (much like this), and planned more sewing projects. I took my hub on mini-dates to our favorite Thai restaurant, where we ate the yummiest pad thai, shrimp dumplings, and miso soup. I went into the woods at every given opportunity. I left my phone at home a lot. I alternated wildly between feeling horrible about myself and being immensely proud of my achievements. I felt more like a grown-up than ever, which was both terrible and wonderful.

What did you do this summer?

Goodies!

I have some new goodies up in my shop! You can check them out HERE.

This refugee crisis is boggling my mind and tearing my heart up. How can anyone have the stomach to turn these people away? If the roles were reversed, the countries denying these people entry would expect help for themselves, no question. I read and read and I don't understand. These are people. They are like you, like me. They have Facebook pages and iPhones, apartments and houses. Razor wire is erected with an attitude of triumph, like "hey, we're keeping out the pests!" The smug callousness I'm seeing is surprising me--I know, it shouldn't, but it does. How can we place any blame upon a group of people desperately trying to get away from a corrupt and tyrannical government? Will we never learn? Years and years ago, thousands upon thousands of people fled Nazi Germany, only to be turned away--I don't need to tell you how that story ended for most people.

What I want is what I can't have: I want the people who are ignoring this problem to find themselves in the same situation. I want to watch them lose everything, be hollowed-out while still trying to be strong for their children. I want to watch them kneel in the dust with their outstretched hands, begging for the smallest mercy, and watch their hands be slapped away.

the dreamers.

"I want to be outside with the misfits, with the rebels, the dreamers, the second chance givers, the radical grace lavishers, the ones with arms wide open, the courageously vulnerable, and among even--or maybe especially--the ones rejected by the table as not worthy enough or right enough."

--Sarah Bessey

Society6 shop is open!

My shop is up and running! I would so appreciate if you go check it out. I have these and other art prints for sale, in addition to tank top, t-shirts, pillows, and more!

Prints!

I've had this lovely lady above, and some of my other works made into prints. If you're interested in purchasing, you can go HERE. :)

"Keep some room in your heart for the unimaginable." --Mary Oliver

Summer so far...

We went to the beach.

We explored the cutest of cute boutiques.

We ate good food.

And drink.

I sold some art.

And dyed my hair pink.

I watched my son rediscover drawing.

We watched a lot of beautiful sunsets.

And drank buckets of coffee.

Before our boy goes back to school, we would also like to:

1. Go to the zoo.
2. Hike up to our favorite waterfall.
3. Have a day-long picnic at the river.
4. Have my brother and sis-in-law overnight.
5. Run away to the harbor for a bit, preferably at night, when all the ship's lights are aglow.

What have you done this summer? What do you hope to do?

Fly On the Wall.

How we spend our mornings lately: in my little art room, on the computer, learning to draw his favorite things. I watch. I have no idea why I look so bitchy and displeased in this picture. Achy? Hungry? Resting bitch face? I couldn't say.