Category: ART

Maundy Thursday. Holy Thursday. The Last Supper. I felt like I was channeling Evelyn as I baked biscotti dolci for the Easter holiday. Little round almond flavored cookies with a confectioner’s glaze and colored sprinkles. I remembered her in our little LaFountain Street kitchen making them so many years ago when Anthony was a little guy. Before Molly was even born. I think it’s how we hold people we’ve loved in our hearts – through our memories and sometimes our actions. So many of the memories are triggered by food. Our first nourishment, almost before the love comes, there’s the sharing of food that is so sacred. Mother and child. We are blessed when we have someone to share a meal with, whether it’s our first or our last, or somewhere in between.

** above images of homes across the street from our wee house from this site:
http://www.uvm.edu/~hp206/2002-1869/svukovic/Burl1869s9/

“Seek ye first the kingdom of heaven, and the Maserati will get here when it’s supposed to.”
-Marianne Williamson

Now what are the odds of this? Marianne Williamson is one of my favorite speakers, and I copied this quote of hers from Simple Abundance yesterday. I went to a morning sewing class afterward and it was so good, I decided to stay for the afternoon class, too. 10a to 130p turned into 10a to 5p. After class, I called up my friend Louise to see if it was okay to stop over to pick up the Italian cookie recipes she had for me (she and the recipes are straight from the Old North End). I pull into the space next to hers because someone else parked in hers. And what was parked there? A Maserati! Her friend Sylvia was visiting too. Who woulda thunk? So, dang girl, I am gonna seek that kingdom of heaven cuz now I know that Maserati’ll get here when it’s supposed to. Even if it is someone else’s.

Synchronicity I tell you, synchronicity. All in the timing. And man, as a human being it is so hard to not at least try to control time. Butcha can’t. Ya gotta let go of it and ride with it. Like a Maserati.

** photo from maserati website

Today I called Chris, my sister-in-law. I was going to call her yesterday but then figured why not just wait until today, the anniversary of her mother’s/my mother-in-law’s death. I’m glad I called her. She’s getting the family ready for a Seder up North but we had a quick chat. I told her I’d lit candles by Evelyn’s picture today but we talked mostly about our kids, and our businesses. She’s a home organizer and is finishing up a support group she was running. I’m an unemployed Granny Nanny just starting my business. I am so glad Chris reminded me of my commitment to writing. I need to remember that as a creative, it is better to do something badly than not create at all. In my case, this goes for writing. Practice, practice, practice.

For our beloved Evelyn today and all the mothers out there from Bohemian Single Mom’s blog post today:

Real Mothers don’t eat quiche;
they don’t have time to make it.

Real Mothers know that their kitchen utensils
are probably in the sandbox.

Real Mothers often have sticky floors,
filthy ovens and happy kids.

Real Mothers know that dried play-dough
doesn’t come out of carpets.

Real Mothers don’t want to know what
the vacuum just sucked up.

Real Mothers know that a child’s growth
is not measured by height or years or grade…
It is marked by the progression of Mommy to Mom to Mother…

The Images of Mother
4 YEARS OF AGE – My Mommy can do anything!

8 YEARS OF AGE – My Mommy knows a lot! A whole lot!

12 YEARS OF AGE – My Mom doesn’t really know quite everything.

14 YEARS OF AGE – Naturally, Mom doesn’t know that, either.

16 YEARS OF AGE – My Mother? She’s hopelessly old-fashioned.

18 YEARS OF AGE – That old woman? She’s way out of date!

25 YEARS OF AGE – Well, she might know a little bit about it!

35 YEARS OF AGE – Before we decide, let’s get Mother’s opinion.

45 YEARS OF AGE – Wonder what Mom would have thought about it?

65 YEARS OF AGE – Wish I could talk it over with Mom.

The beauty of a woman is not in the clothes she wears, the figure that she carries, or the way she combs her hair.

The beauty of a woman must be seen from in her eyes,
because that is the doorway to her heart,
the place where love resides.

The beauty of a woman is not in a facial mole,
but true beauty in a woman is reflected in her soul.
It is the caring that she lovingly gives, the passion that she
shows, and the beauty of a woman with passing years only grows!

I like to think that when the sun came out today, that was Evelyn saying hello.

It’s not that I can’t think of anything to write about. The problem is that I find there is so much to write about I don’t know where to begin. But I’m going to try to remember this advice — “Bird by bird, Annie. Bird by bird.”

Now it’s time to begin.

I first heard her singing Paper Wings and Halo on a wintry drive back from Vermont after a Burlington First Night celebration maybe 10 years ago. It was a snowy drive and my Molly was sleeping while I listened in the twilight to Lori on WUMB. It was magical. I was hooked. Her music was a comfort to me back in those days when I was still reeling from my move from Vermont back to the Cape. She helped me feel at home in a place I struggle to feel at home in still.

I then started following her on UMB, listening to any interviews with her, when gigs were, etc. and was delighted to discover she lived in a town not so very far away from me. I went to see her at First Encounter Coffeehouse in Eastham a couple of times (once when she was very pregnant with her fourth or fifth), the old Sippican Hardware Coffeehouse (long gone now), and finally in Easton at the Blackthorne Tavern for a Sunday morning in May. She was the reason I went to brunch. So I could listen to her.

That was when I got a chance to chit chat with her and it was when she only had the three kids and was only doing local and regional gigs. I ran into her in a McDonald’s in the Mansfield area when we were both on our way with our kids to a pre-teenybopper Nickelodeon music Stars sort of show at the Tweeter Center. Every once in a while I look her up – on the net of course – with 5 kids, a husband and a music career, the woman is busy! – and was delighted to discover almost two years ago that she had been “discovered” beyond our borders. I am looking forward to catching up with her again sometime.

I started the mermaid warrior class and if the first class is a taste of what is to come, it is gonna be good! I watched the video yesterday morning and bought some moleskines (Barnes and Noble per Mermaid, the biggest size, but I got the next biggest and found myself wishing I’d listened to my mermaid-in-chief).

I started on my art journal today. Sometimes, I get overwhelmed with my ideas and then I do nothing at all. But I carved out time today because I need this. The cover is not necessarily done but this is what I have so far. I still would like to stamp “journey” on the cover and add a tie to it, but it got me thinking about making a pocket art journal kit to take with me to coffeehouses. I am not sure where all this will lead me…it is only the beginning of putting myself out there.

Yay Yay Yay — I did it! yesterday after resigning from my employment of the past 8 months I tried to add Christine’s button to my blog, but was going about it wrong.

I had an aha! moment when Marty and I were out for a drive doing errands, and figured out how to save the images.

Am thinking about buying her book. I am needing inspiration and sustenance big time. Of the creative kind. It’s about engaging, community, connection and so forth.

For the second time within the past two years I am unemployed, and a bit scared this go round as there will most likely be no unemployment. I have been marketing my granny nanny business (we have a huge elder population here on the cape) and through my recent work with primarily memory-impaired elders I realized what a joy it can be working with that population. And given that my beloved Evelyn died almost a year ago after her slow decline from Alzheimers, it is something I believe I’d enjoy continuing with. Part-time. I need something else too, particularly connection with kindred souls.

I tend to be all over the place creatively which is a problem for me. I envy people who know bling! this is my passion, this is my bliss — whether it be writing, cooking, gardening, painting, mixed media, sewing, knitting, whatever.

Part of the problem is that I tend to be good at many of the things I dabble in. I am not bragging, this is a huge part of the problem. It makes it very difficult to ground myself and focus on completing creative work to put out into the world because I get overwhelmed with the choices. So I end up frozen. Doing nothing but blogsurfing seeking inspiration, wisdom or whatever will light my fire to get my mojo moving. Hence, the be brave button is very meaningful to me.

Now I just need a stick with it button too. Commitment. Back to Christine’s blog to see if there’s something else to light a fire under my butt. I like this one

but I’m leaning more towards this one

…after all I have hit the half century mark. So it’s a good question. What the hell am I waiting for?

I had been following the Natasha Richardson story since I first heard of it day before yesterday and was so hoping for the best. I worked in a trauma unit for years and had pretty much guessed what the problem was. Still, I hoped.

While lying in bed last night after watching the last of our Joseph Campbell DVD, Marty called very sadly to me from the other room, “She died.”
I have had a hard time thinking of much else. I’m not too crazy over celebrities, but I’ve always liked Natasha Richardson and Liam Neeson. Perhaps because they’re genuine and don’t make the tabloids every time you turn around. They had class.

I like what Susannah, a fellow countrywoman of Natasha’s wrote on her blog, “So today I honour Natasha Richardson; I hope she devoured her life, every thrilling glorious moment of it.” I do believe she did.