Twin Pixie Studios

What exactly am I waiting for?

Has it really been THAT long since my last post? Apparently, it has, and so I ask myself this: What exactly am I waiting for? I'm not quite sure. Divine inspiration? Perfection? The meaning of life in a cracker jack box? Well maybe. But in truth, I get myself all caught up in the idea of writing something profound, that I end up not writing anything at all!

So here I am. Its about 5:15 pm - the "witching hour" as we call it, when the day heads into a tailspin until everyone has been sufficiently fed their share of food and attention. The kids are with the babysitter I vowed I'd NEVER resort to, that electronic box I'm embarrassed to say I rely on for me time. So now I have 5 minutes left to say something important...anything at all...anything...

Nope,not today. Perhaps I'll share some journal pages instead.

the dawn of a new day

    ...with humility and gratitude, she welcomed the dawn of a new day

here and now

    Its late. The house is quiet. I'm having a hard time getting started. I love to write, but as usual, I struggle with where to begin? The thoughts and images running through my head could never be adequately expressed, which is a problem for one who so loves the written word. So I remain quiet lest I share too much.

    I'd like to say I'm doing something, anything really, but the truth is I'm lying on the couch with the computer in my lap as I write. Every now and then our cat Grace bounds up to land squarely on my belly. I groan as her 24 pounds lands squarely on my diaphragm. Ugh! Its loud enough to wake the dogs, who sound the alarm and come running to be sure I'm alright. Satisfied, Jordy curls up on the floor beside me. Puppy, both blind and deaf, hops up onto the couch and plants herself on top of my feet. All is well, and Grace finally settles in on my chest, swishing her tail back and forth as she keeps vigilant watch over the canines. I get a mouthful of fur. And another.
    By now I'm completely flat on my back. The pillow that was once behind my head is now beneath Jordy's chin. I can't bear to disturb him so I tilt my head and hold it up as if the pillow were still there. This can't last long. Grace is a sweet and beautiful cat, but her enormous girth has obscured the computer screen. Luckily there's a documentary about Dale Chihuly's Milennium installation in Jerusalem to keep me busy while I wait for Grace to slink off. Ben and I saw this very exhibit, and I'm flooded with sweet memories of the year we traveled.
    Such a lovely thought as I begin drifting off to sleep.
   

across the threshold

There is nothing in this life as precious as this moment here and now. I'm sitting in my great aunt's chair - an "easy" chair in every sense of the word. I can hear the distinctive clink of a spoon scraping the bottom of an empty bowl as Lily finishes her lunch. "I'm all done!" she announces from the kitchen, her voice filled withwith pride. And she truly seems pleased at having eaten a bowl of soup. I'm filled with wonder at the sincere sense of happiness she seems to feel at this small feat. How rich life is for her, and for all who find joy in such simplicity. This year has been filled with countless moments of such beauty and grace. Their simple beauty defies description, so I'll allow them to speak for themsleves. It is with joy and gratitude that I honor the precious moments of the year past.

And now, it is with great hope that I open my arms and my heart to the year to come.Welcome!

Hope is in the air

 

Where to begin? Is it me? Is the world truly bathed in a warm glow of light inspired by the election of Barack Obama.


Hope has and always will be at the core of my spirit. And although some (who shall remain nameless) believe I'm just a flightly PollyAnna, I cannot help but believe we all have great and unlimited potential. But the power of the collective is so much greater! Just look what is possible when we join together and focus our collective energy in the direction of good. Can we change the world? Yes we can!

It was with tears of joy and hope for their future that I whispered to my sleeping girls, "Yes Yes Yes! Barack Obama WILL be our president!" And for the first time in a very long time, I am proud proud proud to be an American!

song of hope

they sang a song of hope...
and then

united by that spirit of hope

great joy!

joy suspended

Do you have a favorite childhood memory? I do. It's a flash of pure, innocent joy that, when I close my eyes, brings a smile to my face even now. I remember that feeling, and somehow it feels like wings. Its like that brief at the peak of a swing where, neither up nor down, you sit suspended in mid-air full of possibility. 

At that precise moment, there's no choice but to be present. Really present. Here. Now. Children understand. They get it. How can I so easily forget?
Perhaps I tomorrow I'll go out for a swing. After all, is there anything more contagious than a giggle? 

squam...

    As I sit down to write, I'm rendered speechless. It's difficult to sit down, to sit still, to simply be - here and now - when there is so much to do. The house is uncomfortably quiet, and I'm grateful for the chickadees and sparrows whose chatter at the feeder fills the empty space left by giggling little girls now in school.The newly empty space echoes the meloncholy silence of September. 

    The cool, crisp morning air brings me back to Squam Lake, NH.
There, an eclectic group of artists gathered together, a tribe of sorts, to share the extraordinary power of the creative spirit. Two weeks later, I remain in a joyful state of wonder at the beauty and love that infused my time at Squam. Could I truly be that lucky?

I'm overwhemed with gratitude for the warm embrace of friends both old and new, who so generously shared the gifts of their time, attention, wisdom, pain, humor, tenderness and love.

Susan, Kelly, Kathleen, Beth, Heather, Mary, Nina, Misty, and Judy: thank you for sharing your beautiful selves. I'm filled with infinite gratitude and humility as I reflect on my time at Squam.

And somehow the quiet of the empty house feels a little less lonely.

many moons...

It has been many moons indeed since I last sat down to write. The days have been full, the nights equally so, and I've embraced this part of the journey with my time, attention, and presence. Yet as the days merge seamlessly with the nights, I yearn, once again, to reflect on this strange and beautiful path. And here is the start...

great joy

May your new year be filled with love, laughter, and great joy. Blessings to all...