Groove

Some days we just have it. I wake up to his small hands on my face and I know we are in sync. On days like that we float through the morning routine of eating and dressing and happily get out the door for our day's adventure. Perhaps it's a walk to the library (the current favorite) or driving to a close by town for an errand and wandering the streets. On days like this we shift from one activity to the next without trasition. Those days we come home to an afternoon of drawing at the kitchen table or playing "apples and cherries" under the covers as we warm up.

After my last post I had really pursuaded myself that things were so bad, but then the next morning our day went so well and I realized that most of the days do go so well and that the stresses that envelop me are often more in my mind than out in the world. I am trying to hold this idea close to my heart as I approach the mountain of "business" I have to deal with... You know it sort of works.

Now I would like everyone who is reading this to help me send good healthy feelings both to a good friend of mine who is having a tough pregnancy and to my aunt who is having a lung biopsy tomorrow.

Now now now

I am a planner. I spend hours of my day thinking about what we are going to do tomorrow, next week, five years from now. Lately it's been almost obsessive. I was constantly thinking about things I wanted to do with Alder when he gets older. I was thinking about what our life would be like once we're settled. The list went on and on. All of this focusing on the future means that I have been sort of miserable with the now. The future is always perfect since it isn't corrupted by reality of things like dishes, bills, or grumpiness.
April 2008 June 2008

Then yesterday I took Alder out for lunch at a restaurant that we hadn't been to for months. Sitting there looking at him eating the same meal I was hit by how much I had missed out in the last few months because I was not focused on what we are doing now. Where had I been while he changed so rapidly? what was I doing while we were taking walks and playing?

Well, I had been preparing reading books and more books I had been waiting for a certain start to things. I must be a dolt or something because it has taken me 22 months to really get that right now is what I should be excited about. Yes I should be planning tomorrow and possibly next week but I should be doing these things to be living with the world I am in now. With the risk of sounding like a new-age book I need to focus more on living in the now.

To that end I am starting to make more immediate plans. It is summer and we live in Vermont, there are farms to visit, trails to hike, festivals to enjoy. On that note I plan on filling this space with more activities and less ponderings, at least for a while.

Gestation part 2

Surprisingly, having Kevin's family here was not stressful. Actually it's not surprising, they are such low key people that spending time with them is usually pleasurable and I was sad to see them go this morning. I'll have lots of pictures to post tomorrow.

As I was saying before I felt like I need some sort of overarching focus for all my creativity. I have all these ideas rolling around in my head with no focus. But then the other day when we were talking with Kevin's family about the store and its name his dad asked what the Seven in Seven Mountain stood for. Without thinking I listed our seven principles that we think are important and then it hit me that these were still really what focus me and that rather than going looking for a new set of ideas that I have them right in front of me.

Family

Rhythm

Health

Thought

Creativity

Community

Body

I like how looking at life through the lens of these ideas seems. I've only tried this on for a few days but it might just be what fits well for me. So rather than spending any more time pondering I am going to just get started.

Gestation

What is my focus? I find myself asking a lot lately. I am a mama, I am a partner, I write, I run a business, I parent, I make things, I make art, I wander, I read, I am a daughter, I am a niece .... The list goes on, these are all things that are important parts of me. But they just seem to compile until I am more like a random stack on my desk than a woman. I am lost among the books and bobbins, diapers and business cards. I rush from one identity to another never staying long enough in one to get comfortable, or to see how they might fit together. I am tired worn thin; simultaneously inspired by everything and uninspired.

For the last week I have mulled over how all these pieces fit into a nice bundle rather than a pile. Mulling, gestation, whatever word you want to use is when you just let things surface on their own without working at it. I merely kept these ideas in my mind and allowed for them to percolate. Any that came up was written down without too much commitment. It's been ten days now and I think it's time to take all these pieces of paper together and see what meshes. Try to find how I can be all these things together, instead of at once.

Note: Picture was taken of me with an original Polaroid camera about seven years ago by Alex on a delicious day in her old apartment in Brooklyn. Now I live out here close by, yet she has moved the other way and is in LA. Isn't that the way of life?

How I Do Mama

I've been thinking a lot about parenting lately. Probably because with all of the chaos of open in the store I haven't really been able to have any rhythm to the time that I spend with Alder. Since Kevin isn't practicing acupuncture yet I'm in the store solo four days a week, he takes the other three. The time this gives me to think is wonderful but now I wish I could be doing rather than just thinking.

Amanda, wrote this wonderful meditation on why she likes making toys, specifically toys for her son. But it really is more about how we parent and interact with our children, or any other person for that matter.

As Alder grows and changes I find that there is more time spent together doing things. These simple *games* that he invents are a big part of his day. Lately it has been the rediscovery of a bunch of large plastic chains that used to hang on his stroller and off of the baby bjorn for him to play with. Now he brings them to me and puts them on my finger, once he can not fit anymore on I then stick them on his wrist as bracelets until they reach almost his elbow, at which point I am supposed to take them all off and throw them onto a near by chair. Once they are in the chair the game starts over again.

It is a simple process and at some moments I find myself getting annoyed that we are doing it yet again, but I try to remember that this game is important work for him, in his learning and understanding of how the world works. I think back to the drop the spoon on the floor game which also seem to last for ever. But now he understands that it will always fall down and mama or papa will probably pick it up the first few times so it is not a game that needs to be repeated except to humor him. (Dave Albert writes about this in And Skylarks Sing With Me). These games that he plays at this age are about understanding the world around him they are process he must go through.


In general he prefers real world objects to toys, why play with a toy plastic cup when there are yogurt containers that Mama and Papa use? The only two sorts of toys that he likes are the ones that don't translate to things the world that he can find around to house. He loves blocks and things with wheels. He will spend twenty minutes by himself stacking blocks in tall towers and knocking them down, only to rebuild. the wheeled toys don't hold his attention as long but he still has an ecstatic look on his face as he pushes his wagon around the house.

The pile of stuffed animals carefully chosen for him by friends and family go untouched except for the random cozy moment when he lies down on them. The least interesting to him are the toys that mimic adult object but are made silly with colors and plastic, I handed him a plastic hammer the other day and he dropped it and went and picked up my hammer, which I had forgotten was in the room. It makes sense to me, if he is trying to figure out this world why would he want an imitation of it?

As he is changing and learning how to be in this world I am learning to be in this role of parent. Some days I wonder how I could possibly remember all the important things to do when I am with him. I read other blogs where days seem to go so planned and full of activities, while we seem to spend our alone time on errands. But then when I look back at those days objectively I can see what we really do. While the other day felt like errands to me there was also a long walk around downtown Manchester, a two hour playtime with our Tuesdays friends (on Wednesday) and time spent at the bookstore with the cool door mats to play with. I could spend my time wondering why I haven't been to the read-aloud at the library or I could realize that I am giving Alder my time and love.

How Alder Does Being Him

The little boy is back to his usual magic. Today he figured out how to stand himself up while holding on to things (like a chair or a Mama), how to crawl without the belly flop in the middle, and how to climb up stairs. Where does it all come from?

The funny thing about all of his new things that he's doing is that he has been really needing to be in Mama or Papa's lap or arms a lot since we got back from our trip. This is unusual for Alder who is usually straining to get free and roam around. I admit I'm liking the extra cozies. Last night he fell asleep in my arms while I watched a movie. For the first hour or so he just contented himself at looking at the jade plant and other things in the room but after a bit of squirming he fell off to sleep. Then today he kept crawling to where ever Kevin or I were and reaching out his arms.

Once I got the bread started I gave up the idea of getting anything else done and just hung out on the floor with him. He spent a lot of time climbing Mt Mama trying to hold on tight when the earthquakes would come. He laughed every time I would make 'earthquake' noises and shake.

I forget sometimes to play with him. That sound awful, but often we do things like explore what's on the floor or go for walks but rarely do we just play. I used to try playing with him but he usually is more interested in finding what ever book or grownup object we've left within his reach. I guess as he is getting older there is more place in his mind for interacting.

Being with him just enjoying ourselves felt completely in balance. Alder has always been like a deep breath to me. There was one point in the pregnancy that I could feel his spirit swirling a golden glittery glow up and down my spine. Now when I see him looking at me, just watching I can feel the same glittery goodness. I don't usually go for the spiritual side of things but Alder seems filled with it and it is infectious.

The way he looks at the world around him is so full of awe and a need to understand it, not in a scientific way but to taste it, crawl over it, and run his hands over it way. I understand this need to feel somethings wholeness. I guess maybe the spirit I see him looking for is one that I've looked for too. Except I'm not going to bring him up in a world of scientific laws and anthropological theories like I was. There needs to be a balance between the two. Or at least that is the world I want to introduce him to.

Day 3: Museums

From Spring Break ...

Santa Fe must be a great town to bike around when it is warm enough. As it was the weather had turned cold and windy after lunch but we decided to walk up the hill to the museums. Some of the museums in Santa Fe are in a complex called Museum Hill, this also includes two research facilities.

While Mary went to the Museum of Spanish Colonial Art we went over to what we thought was going to be an anthropological museum. That building ended up being a research center. I wished I had had something to research. The idea of sitting along the windows deep in reading some text thrilled me. Unfortunately Alder is not quite into long library stints unless there are a lot of board books to chew on.

So we went to the Museum of Indian Arts and Culture. It was interesting but the whole thing was low lit and it made both Alder and I squirmy after the first hour. Luckily we found a great children's exploration room filled with lots of foam blocks made to look like adobe. While Alder enjoyed himself climbing through piles I imagined being there with an older Alder, wondering what his interests would be at four, seven even sixteen. Kevin was enthralled by the exhibits that covered history and daily life.

On an amusing side note the bags of flour they used for the exhibit were from the mill in Cortez where we used to get our flour. I still have one of the Blue Bird bags waiting to find a use for it.

Our next museum was the International Museum of Folk Art. This was the best part of the trip to me. The permanent collection of work was a little overwhelming. There were hundreds and thousands of pieces from all over the world especially many miniature figures of religious ceremonies and village events. A great deal of this collection was Mexican and the bright colors were a welcome contrast from the low light of the first museum.

The exhibit that I really connected with was called Variations. It grouped items not by country but by what they were. This meant that you could look at twenty different masks from all over the world and see the continuity of the human experience. The exhibit got me thinking about the artists in this country who use the vocabulary of these other cultures to make their art. Rather than acknowledging that there could be an American culture they go outside to find a cultural form to use. I understand the draw of this, the Mexican colors or Japanese starkness are both intoxicating. But these artists not only take the methods but the experiences as well.

These artists may be having fun playing in these forms but I do not think that they are really making art from the soul or heart. Yes the folk process involves taking elements from others but they should be taken and incorporated into the artists own experience. It should be form that is "borrowed" not experience.

The exhibit itself only fueled my want to work on my print making. I am trying to use images that I am finding in an old family photo album as a starting point to make art that is about me and what I have experienced in life. Who knows where it will all go.

Frida Kahlo

Kevin and I watched Frida last night. For Kevin it struck on the interest in the process of art making and how that often gets lost when you are looking at art and discussing it. Frida Kahol's paintings are intense emotional pieces stemming from her own life. She did not create them for the art critics and historians to dissect. They were created because she had to create them for herself. Yes the topics were of more universal appeal than she would have thought but that only served to benefit her.

The whole conversation got me thinking about imitators. People who are struck by her artwork do it an injustice by copying her style. If they were to truly emulate her they would focus on being true to their own internal monologue. There have been times that she has inspired me to try self portraits but the outcomes have nothing to do with her actual paintings. I couldn't copy her because my experience in life is different.

What I find in her paintings is a sense of strength and vibrancy. This site is a "biography" of Frida Kahlo using her paintings to tell the story. http://www.fbuch.com/fridaby.htm I come away from them with a feeling that one must do not just think about doing. Life is present and if you are an artist you should be making art not just talking about making it.

Yesterday I cleared my art table and I look over there right now and can see the project I am working on. I don't feel spiritually connected to Kahol but my respect to her, as with the other artists whose work I like, would be in creating my own honest work.

On Being Domestic

Bread

The kitchen captured me today! I've been cooking and baking all afternoon. I baked four loaves of bread. I like this recipe for it's ease but I'm getting a little tired of the flavor so it's time to branch out. Still the act of making bread is one of the most centering in my life. I love how it smells like bread as the gluten forms and how it sighs when I punch it down.

It wasn't just bread that I made to today. Decided to make a nice dinner for Kevin, since he made homemade pasta last night. Stufato di Agnello alla Vino Blanco (lamb), Saffron Couscous, a Fennel and Onion soup, and bittersweet choclate pudding. Sounds like a lot of work but it actually only took an hour, except for whisking the pudding. Not bad for throughing something together with what is around the house.

Cooking, like reading, is something that I approach as a completely personal experience. I may be cooking for a group of friends or myself; either way it is the act that is satisfying. Back when I lived by myself I would make nice dinners for one, now that I have someone else to offer it to I give it as an act of love.

The comparison to reading is far reaching. Like cooking no two people read the same written piece the same way. As a child my father read to me the Hobbit and Lord of the Rings books every night. I loved the sense of adventure and place that Tolkien created. In high school I discovered that most people I met who had read the books looked at them in a very different manner they saw them as magic and war oriented. Neither view was wrong.

Cooking is the same way, many people may make a soup but none bring to it my expectations of both the outcome and the experience (I'm guessing most don't think this much about it). I on the other hand revel in the soup. I love the chopping of the ingredients, watching the onions turn from white to transparent, listening to the pot ask for more liquid, and the smells that infuse the house. I love knowing when to push the heat and when to use time. Of course I love the eating of the soup but not as much as creating it.

I watch other people cook, ones who enjoy it, they follow recipes milligram to milligram, or they have different spices. The experience seems nothing akin to mine although they still love what they are doing, their enjoyment does not seem to come from the same thread as mine. Then there are those rare occations when I meet someone who approaches the kitchen the same way I do, my husband included, and I feel as though I have found a soulmate.

On a seperate but equally domestic note. I don't usually get giddy about inanimate objects except art and books but I was down right giddy yesterday when Kevin came home with Alder's new cloth diapers. We've easily spent the cost of the new diapers on disposable ones in the two months we've waited for them. Yes I love them for environmental and economic reasons but my main reason for love is that disposable diapers give Alder a rash. He's been in the new diapers since last night and the rash has vanished. So while I can where my Earth Mama badge again for having him in them I'll know that I'm also making the little bug more comfy.