I grew up playing fast pitch softball. Even at the age of eight, the pitchers were not throwing with an arc; they were hurling it as fast as they could across the plate. The arc was saved for the change-up. So, from the time I was eight until I was 11 (the Minor League), I had to hit a fast pitch, while still playing with slow-pitch rules: no stealing, no bunting, etc.
In seventh grade I moved up to the Major League which had girls from 11-14 years old. There is a huge difference between an eleven year-old and a high school freshman. Mostly, it had to do with maturity (temper tantrums, teasing others, but not being able to take it, being tormented at team slumber parties). I was chosen to play shortstop, much to the dismay of some of the 14 year-olds. Cue more tantrums and torment. I was a good player. Hard worker. Devoted teammate. The first two years our team finished in the middle of the pack of 12 teams. Then we had new coaches with older players and became a top team. As my coaches’ daughters moved up to the Senior League (15-18), I moved up with them.
After the Majors, most girls opted out of continuing to the Seniors, so there were only three teams that traveled and played other cities. We were tough. I would play shortstop, third, left field- wherever I was needed. The older girls had jobs and didn’t always show up for practices, and my coach would say, “Next year it will be your turn.” By the time I was in my last year, I too had many distractions. A job, coaching, a boyfriend, a musical and a Shakespearean play. I didn’t show up to many practices, but was always there for the games. My coach didn’t always put me in (which was confusing to me at the time), but I was there- always ready to do what he needed.
The second to last game of the season, I was playing shortstop. We were winning; there were two outs and a runner on first. For some stupid reason, the runner tried to steal second base. The catcher threw a perfect ball to my glove. Just as I was about to cover the ball with my other hand, the runner slid right into my hand and glove. Out! Game over! I tossed the ball to my coach and we lined up to shake hands. “Good game. Good game.” And then I heard the other coach say, “Looks like somebody got hurt.” I looked down at my hand and it was covered in blood. The runner had been wearing spikes (which was rare in those days), and her foot had gone between my middle and ring fingers splitting my hand open.
My boyfriend happened to be at the game and drove me to the ER where I received Novocain (which did NOT help), several stitches, and had my fingers taped together. No big deal.
Our last game of the regular season had been pushed back due to some rain-outs. Some of the girls’ families had already made vacation arrangements and were unable to play. We had nine girls for 10 positions (at the time we had four outfielders). When my mother told me I couldn’t play because of my hand, it not only meant that we would forfeit and not be able to go on to the sectional tournament, it also meant that my softball playing days were over (cue crying, wailing and gnashing of teeth).
I heard the phone ring about every fifteen minutes and several mumbled conversations. About two hours before the game, my mom came into my room and said I could play BUT I could only bunt and had to play right field. No problem! I was usually the lead-off batter or clean-up. Right field? Meh. Hadn’t been out there since I was eight, but it meant I was able to play and maybe help our team get to the next round.
First batter. First pitch. First beautiful bunt. High five from Tommy, our first-base coach. Next time up- the shortstop comes charging at me, and I drag bunt. The ball pops over her head and I make it to first. Sweet. Third time up- the pitcher and shortstop run towards me and I slash bunt. For real. And the ball rolls perfectly between them. Tommy just shakes his head at me in disbelief as I get to first base. Meanwhile, I had one ball hit to me in the wet grass of right field and I missed it. But when I picked up the ball to throw it in, it zinged across my fingers and flew in, stopping the runner at second. Not great, but obviously having my fingers taped was going to be something I continued after I healed.
Anyway, the fourth time up, everyone was ready for me. We were winning, we were going to get to the next round, and this was my last at bat. Two outs. Strike one. Perfect pitch. Now what? I remembered my dad telling me one time how great it would be if someone swung at a ball with all of their might, and then bunted with two strikes. I couldn’t believe he was saying this at the time. Two strikes? If you bunt the ball foul on the third strike, you would be out. “Yeah,” he said. “But imagine how surprised they would be after that kind of a swing.”
So I swung as hard as I could. The ball almost went out of the park, and was foul. The coach on third gave me the evil eye, but to his left, I could see the third baseman, the shortstop and the left fielder move way back. Waaay back. Next pitch. Plink. The perfect bunt, in the grass, stopping halfway to third. Out of reach for the catcher, and no hope for the third baseman or shortstop who were hopelessly surprised and off balance. Standing on first, Tommy’s mouth was hanging open. “I’ve always wanted to do that,” I said. When the game was over, Tommy told me he had never seen anyone play the way I did that day, and hands me the ball. In ten years, I had never seen any player receive the game ball. I still have it. It makes me smile when I see it on my shelf. I still have the scar on my hand, too. That makes me wince when I think about it. But then I smile.
Thursday, June 14, 2012
Friday, February 10, 2012
February 2012
Yeah. I know. Been a while. Lots of changes in the last six months. I wanted to post many times, but I was either yelling in my head, and couldn't type fast enough, or was too embarrassed to say what was going on, or too busy with the holidays, or just avoiding reality.
Here's the deal. I was fired from my job. It was a very bizarre and surreal moment, and because blogs can be read by anyone, I hesitate to say too much. I loved my job, I loved the people I worked with, but I didn't love the lack of trust in me by the powers-that-be. I stood up for my decisions, got in trouble for my boss' decisions, and just wasn't allowed to do the things a development director should be able to do to raise funds for the school. This happened in October on a Monday. I went home sobbing- but the troops at home were not very sympathetic, and still aren't. But I digress. On Tuesday, I sent an email to my network of friends and former colleagues and said I was looking for a new opportunity. On Wednesday morning, a colleague opened her email, called me and told me to come in Thursday to talk. And that was it. I showed up for work on Monday.
I've been working part-time for Girls Inc since then. This woman, this Executive Director, had worked with me on a project, and wanted me to help her. She trusts me. I can write a letter to a donor and not get yelled at or see it come back with red pen (yes, red pen from another boss) all over it. Or have someone lecture me for fifteen minutes on the use of a particular phrase (what a waste of time. Just tell me it's wrong and I'll change it. Jeesh). We make recommendations to each other. She hands me responsibilities left and right, which is challenging to accomplish in four hours a day. But the goal is to become full-time. And I can't wait. Because I won't have as much time to obsess over that other place.
Yes, in the last five months other things have happened. I had my whole family home for Christmas. I got to go to a UConn game with my sister. Rosie graduated from college and is an almost full-time nanny while working on her writing. Grace is surviving in Tennessee. Christine and Leaf had a housewarming party, and the Giants gave them the BEST present. Emily is still sending us "Guess who I just met" stories from L.A. (because we are celebrity gawkers). Caprice declared a major and continues to make the Dean's List. And Matthew was tapped to help a troubled department while maintaining his senior reactor operator license (too long to explain).
So that's the haps from 4 Thomas Pointe. Hope all is well.
Love,
Valerie
Here's the deal. I was fired from my job. It was a very bizarre and surreal moment, and because blogs can be read by anyone, I hesitate to say too much. I loved my job, I loved the people I worked with, but I didn't love the lack of trust in me by the powers-that-be. I stood up for my decisions, got in trouble for my boss' decisions, and just wasn't allowed to do the things a development director should be able to do to raise funds for the school. This happened in October on a Monday. I went home sobbing- but the troops at home were not very sympathetic, and still aren't. But I digress. On Tuesday, I sent an email to my network of friends and former colleagues and said I was looking for a new opportunity. On Wednesday morning, a colleague opened her email, called me and told me to come in Thursday to talk. And that was it. I showed up for work on Monday.
I've been working part-time for Girls Inc since then. This woman, this Executive Director, had worked with me on a project, and wanted me to help her. She trusts me. I can write a letter to a donor and not get yelled at or see it come back with red pen (yes, red pen from another boss) all over it. Or have someone lecture me for fifteen minutes on the use of a particular phrase (what a waste of time. Just tell me it's wrong and I'll change it. Jeesh). We make recommendations to each other. She hands me responsibilities left and right, which is challenging to accomplish in four hours a day. But the goal is to become full-time. And I can't wait. Because I won't have as much time to obsess over that other place.
Yes, in the last five months other things have happened. I had my whole family home for Christmas. I got to go to a UConn game with my sister. Rosie graduated from college and is an almost full-time nanny while working on her writing. Grace is surviving in Tennessee. Christine and Leaf had a housewarming party, and the Giants gave them the BEST present. Emily is still sending us "Guess who I just met" stories from L.A. (because we are celebrity gawkers). Caprice declared a major and continues to make the Dean's List. And Matthew was tapped to help a troubled department while maintaining his senior reactor operator license (too long to explain).
So that's the haps from 4 Thomas Pointe. Hope all is well.
Love,
Valerie
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Monday, November 14, 2011
Monday, September 12, 2011
So much to say
Things I want to write about soon:
Those posts and pictures will come soon, but I have to say I have an incredible family and group of friends who are also my family. They were so helpful before, during and after the event- in so many ways. It really helped me put things in perspective, re-prioritize and begin the process of preparing for the future.
- preparing for the wedding,
- crafting for the wedding,
- the wedding,
- after the wedding,
- updating my art room,
- lessons learned from the wedding,
- the silence after the wedding.
Those posts and pictures will come soon, but I have to say I have an incredible family and group of friends who are also my family. They were so helpful before, during and after the event- in so many ways. It really helped me put things in perspective, re-prioritize and begin the process of preparing for the future.
Saturday, August 6, 2011
just as rewarding
Not as fun as making panda cupcakes, but certainly as rewarding, we worked on the garage last night. We- as in Caprice and I. In anticipation of a new refrigerator this month (fingers crossed) that I will use for party prep, and for the couple's reception items, we pushed, pulled, yipped (or "ewwwed"), and strained to move things, sweep and organize. This also include at least 30 minutes of untangling cords, hose, and lights.
This morning I will take Emily's books and movies and Caprice's school things to the storage unit. I will retrieve reception items, and I will take some ungodly amount of computer parts and a refrigerator to the recycling center.
It doesn't seem like a garage would be an integral part of a wedding weekend, but it is. We will be orchestrating the greatest step, ball, change over that very lengthy weekend. We have to do this now, so I can drive with Grace back to Nashville (in two weeks), move Caprice back to UD, and plan some way to cook over a weekend when I won't be cooking. Impossible, you say? Ah. Watch the magic and the chaos unfold.
This morning I will take Emily's books and movies and Caprice's school things to the storage unit. I will retrieve reception items, and I will take some ungodly amount of computer parts and a refrigerator to the recycling center.
It doesn't seem like a garage would be an integral part of a wedding weekend, but it is. We will be orchestrating the greatest step, ball, change over that very lengthy weekend. We have to do this now, so I can drive with Grace back to Nashville (in two weeks), move Caprice back to UD, and plan some way to cook over a weekend when I won't be cooking. Impossible, you say? Ah. Watch the magic and the chaos unfold.
Friday, August 5, 2011
Panda-momium
My friend Krista just posted this on her blog,
Yeah- the sad looking square lanterns. Not the made-by-someone-with-nimble-fingers-and-from-a-faraway-land-round ones. But it was fun to play all day. How often do we get to do that?
It is the people I work with/days like this that help meendure enjoy my job.
We worked on this baby shower for our friend/co-worker. It was very lucky that the building was shut down the day before the shower, so we could play in my kitchen with these cute little guys (not Scott and Randy. The pandas!).
Each one of them seemed to have their own little personality! And the cake pops. I had tried to make them for a family party a few weeks earlier. Epic fail. The ones that were left in the freezer kept getting eaten (hmmm). So, I made a decree to STOP eating my experiments without permission. With just nine left, it made a perfect little teapot bouquet for the mom-to-be.
I've also been playing with tissue paper for Christine's wedding, so I had plenty on hand for us to make lanterns and gift wrapping. Simple, 70's and cheerful.
Yeah- the sad looking square lanterns. Not the made-by-someone-with-nimble-fingers-and-from-a-faraway-land-round ones. But it was fun to play all day. How often do we get to do that?
It is the people I work with/days like this that help me
Friday, July 15, 2011
Listen here, Martha
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Brain is full
The wedding is less than two months away, but, thanks to my daughter sacrificing a weekend, we got the invitations done. They are really elaborate, but very fun. I can't post the pictures yet. Suffice it to say, three 15-hour days, midnight runs to Kinko's and buying AC Moore, Michael's and JoAnn's out of every glue stick made for a very crafty holiday weekend. They've been mailed, and this weekend is the In-Laws annual picnic. Hopefully they will have all received theirs, and will have nice things to say....but that's a fantasy. There will be those who are impressed, those who are confused, and those who just don't get it. Those are the people who don't get our family Christmas card either.
But you can't please everyone. Just the bride. If she hadn't come in this weekend, it wouldn't have gotten done or wouldn't have been what she wanted. I procrastinate on things I'm unsure of. I also procrastinate on things that I could knock out quite quickly. I just procrastinate. Period. In most things. But some things cannot be put off. Like making a succulents topiary for the wedding. Things need time to grow. So get busy. And judging by how long it took to do the invitations, we need to get moving on the programs. Lots of information and names and traditions will go into this Catholic/Jewish wedding program. No glue sticks this time. Please?
My sister hosted a fabulous DIY themed shower in the DCAD Gallery. Black and white. People brought DIY gifts for Christine to do or gifts they had made themselves. It was incredible. Then everyone got into teams and made aprons that corresponded to a holiday or event. My mom made a beautiful cake, and Matthew's mom made a quilt. Everyone was given a heart to write on that will be attached to the quilt. Matthew's sister made a stunning crocheted tablecloth. Holy Christmas. And the give-away baskets (each one represented a room in a house and had a plant and fun accessories that went with the room) were quite exceptional. Best. Shower. Ever.
The post-wedding BBQ is here at the house, and I have a lot do. Cleaning and purging are the priority. I need Matthew to make a fancy database for me to keep on schedule. He likes that. Makes him feel like the task master. He'll be working nights, going to Atlanta for work, and working more nights and weekends this summer. I miss having him around. I liked our schedule when he was in school, but he has to do this crazy shift schedule now. Part of the career path.
Non-wedding stuff: Rosie just spent a week with Emily in LA. Seems like they had a good time. Rosie met "Reid" from "Criminal Minds." Her fantasy man. That could make any trip awesome.
Emily is moving up at the Hollywood Best Buy while working on her writing career. It's fun to get texts from her about the celebrities she's met. We are celebrity junkies. We just are.
Grace is bored and can't wait to get back to Nashville. I'll be driving her back in August to get her settled for the school year. She'll fly home two weeks later for the wedding. Emily will fly in to Nashville and they'll fly in to Baltimore together, just in time for Friday night Girls' Night at the house. Nine girls from 18-26 in my house. Wow. It will be quite a weekend.
I attended a prospect research conference in New York. I know. Don't be jealous. It's great information to have. But it's overwhelming how much time is spent gathering information (wealth indicators) on people. And who has time? And who's going to do something with it? And wow....there are a lot of ways to look into someone's background. Kinda' scary. But I'm not a prospect... so...yeah.
Time to get busy. I took today and tomorrow off from work. Lots to do before September 2.
But you can't please everyone. Just the bride. If she hadn't come in this weekend, it wouldn't have gotten done or wouldn't have been what she wanted. I procrastinate on things I'm unsure of. I also procrastinate on things that I could knock out quite quickly. I just procrastinate. Period. In most things. But some things cannot be put off. Like making a succulents topiary for the wedding. Things need time to grow. So get busy. And judging by how long it took to do the invitations, we need to get moving on the programs. Lots of information and names and traditions will go into this Catholic/Jewish wedding program. No glue sticks this time. Please?
My sister hosted a fabulous DIY themed shower in the DCAD Gallery. Black and white. People brought DIY gifts for Christine to do or gifts they had made themselves. It was incredible. Then everyone got into teams and made aprons that corresponded to a holiday or event. My mom made a beautiful cake, and Matthew's mom made a quilt. Everyone was given a heart to write on that will be attached to the quilt. Matthew's sister made a stunning crocheted tablecloth. Holy Christmas. And the give-away baskets (each one represented a room in a house and had a plant and fun accessories that went with the room) were quite exceptional. Best. Shower. Ever.
The post-wedding BBQ is here at the house, and I have a lot do. Cleaning and purging are the priority. I need Matthew to make a fancy database for me to keep on schedule. He likes that. Makes him feel like the task master. He'll be working nights, going to Atlanta for work, and working more nights and weekends this summer. I miss having him around. I liked our schedule when he was in school, but he has to do this crazy shift schedule now. Part of the career path.
Non-wedding stuff: Rosie just spent a week with Emily in LA. Seems like they had a good time. Rosie met "Reid" from "Criminal Minds." Her fantasy man. That could make any trip awesome.
Emily is moving up at the Hollywood Best Buy while working on her writing career. It's fun to get texts from her about the celebrities she's met. We are celebrity junkies. We just are.
Grace is bored and can't wait to get back to Nashville. I'll be driving her back in August to get her settled for the school year. She'll fly home two weeks later for the wedding. Emily will fly in to Nashville and they'll fly in to Baltimore together, just in time for Friday night Girls' Night at the house. Nine girls from 18-26 in my house. Wow. It will be quite a weekend.
I attended a prospect research conference in New York. I know. Don't be jealous. It's great information to have. But it's overwhelming how much time is spent gathering information (wealth indicators) on people. And who has time? And who's going to do something with it? And wow....there are a lot of ways to look into someone's background. Kinda' scary. But I'm not a prospect... so...yeah.
Time to get busy. I took today and tomorrow off from work. Lots to do before September 2.
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Fog
My brain is in a total fog, and this is not a good time to not be clear-headed. Jeesh. OK. Easter this weekend- three days of cooking and feeling guilty for not fulfilling Lenten promises- again. Eating good food and hating the scale- again.
Next- the fundraiser. Varying levels of control and input from faculty, staff, students, volunteers and board members. 150 items to monitor, pressure to make money, pressure to make things run smoooooothly, pressure to be perfect. Two weeks from today. OMG.
Theeen, while recovering from the fundraiser, Grace, Caprice and Emily come home. Grace and Caprice- for the summer. Emily- for just a few days. Matthew and I both have to work, so that's disappointing, but we'll make the most of our evenings.
Followed by- Christine's shower weekend. Relatives descend to prepare, drink and shower her with gifts. My sister is handling the invitations, RSVPs and catering, but I have a lot to do yet. Including....
cleaning for all of these events. We started to purge, but got as far as leaving the bags by the front door. I step over them every morning and every evening, and they miraculously stay right there.
But with all of this activity, I cannot seem to sit at my desk and just concentrate on work. And when I'm home, I cannot just concentrate on cleaning, or calligraphy or whatever. See? I cannot even finish that thought!
Tomorrow is Good Friday- and we'll all be home for the day. Three days to think about what is truly important. What is truly necessary. What is truly the one thing that deserves my attention. As superficial as my "problems" are compared to others, they still create this fog in my brain. And I as I write this, I suddenly feel calm. I look at the rosary hanging on my computer and remember that there is someone who will share my burden. He may not clean my house, or be able to help me make a lot of money for my school (or myself), but He will always calm me down. And I reeeally need that right now.
Next- the fundraiser. Varying levels of control and input from faculty, staff, students, volunteers and board members. 150 items to monitor, pressure to make money, pressure to make things run smoooooothly, pressure to be perfect. Two weeks from today. OMG.
Theeen, while recovering from the fundraiser, Grace, Caprice and Emily come home. Grace and Caprice- for the summer. Emily- for just a few days. Matthew and I both have to work, so that's disappointing, but we'll make the most of our evenings.
Followed by- Christine's shower weekend. Relatives descend to prepare, drink and shower her with gifts. My sister is handling the invitations, RSVPs and catering, but I have a lot to do yet. Including....
cleaning for all of these events. We started to purge, but got as far as leaving the bags by the front door. I step over them every morning and every evening, and they miraculously stay right there.
But with all of this activity, I cannot seem to sit at my desk and just concentrate on work. And when I'm home, I cannot just concentrate on cleaning, or calligraphy or whatever. See? I cannot even finish that thought!
Tomorrow is Good Friday- and we'll all be home for the day. Three days to think about what is truly important. What is truly necessary. What is truly the one thing that deserves my attention. As superficial as my "problems" are compared to others, they still create this fog in my brain. And I as I write this, I suddenly feel calm. I look at the rosary hanging on my computer and remember that there is someone who will share my burden. He may not clean my house, or be able to help me make a lot of money for my school (or myself), but He will always calm me down. And I reeeally need that right now.
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Building a home
Outside our bathroom window upstairs is a happy spot. The kitchen and family room roof lines form an L which is perfect for the annual starling nest. In the morning, the birds gather the necessary building materials, taking turns adding pieces, removing pieces. I can hear a little bit of squawking, and I wonder if they argue the way we do. Adding on or building a house can be sooo stressful. Imagine doing it every year. Building a home is even more stressful.
The home, the nest, the coccoon. That place you should feel safe and help each other to grow. As much as I adore my husband, we look at building and maintaining a home quite differently. While he is truly the protector, more spiritual or faith-filled than I am, I still feel like the protector of the children's creative souls. I want them to explore their talents, be overwhelmed by the possibilities, fail, fall in and out of love, learn, and not be so eager to grow up. I mean, what adult wouldn't want to go back to the days of learning, playing, partying, exploring, with few responsibilities?
I consider myself a communist mama- From each according to her abilities; To each according to her needs (we are female-centric at our house; or at least, I am). The girls are so similar, but they are very different. Recognizing that some take longer to leave the nest, some need more building materials, some just needed a quick shove, and some just need to sing and sing- I want the freedom to be able to honor all of those needs. Without everyone constantly being reminded of "How are you gonna pay for that?!"
I don't want to put money first. I want to put desire, ambition, talent and passion first (and second and third, etc.). I want my girls to do the same. Yes, we all need to be self-sufficient, but how quickly? My goodness! What's the rush? For any of us?
Let us relax. Let us love with abandon. Let us paint and scream and sing and build homes. Let us just live.
The home, the nest, the coccoon. That place you should feel safe and help each other to grow. As much as I adore my husband, we look at building and maintaining a home quite differently. While he is truly the protector, more spiritual or faith-filled than I am, I still feel like the protector of the children's creative souls. I want them to explore their talents, be overwhelmed by the possibilities, fail, fall in and out of love, learn, and not be so eager to grow up. I mean, what adult wouldn't want to go back to the days of learning, playing, partying, exploring, with few responsibilities?
I consider myself a communist mama- From each according to her abilities; To each according to her needs (we are female-centric at our house; or at least, I am). The girls are so similar, but they are very different. Recognizing that some take longer to leave the nest, some need more building materials, some just needed a quick shove, and some just need to sing and sing- I want the freedom to be able to honor all of those needs. Without everyone constantly being reminded of "How are you gonna pay for that?!"
I don't want to put money first. I want to put desire, ambition, talent and passion first (and second and third, etc.). I want my girls to do the same. Yes, we all need to be self-sufficient, but how quickly? My goodness! What's the rush? For any of us?
Let us relax. Let us love with abandon. Let us paint and scream and sing and build homes. Let us just live.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Back to basics
The wedding has given me an opportunity/excuse to play in the studio again. And I know that I want to do that more. So I'm working on an Etsy page where I can offer my calligraphic services, handmade items (like the lantern), and other fun things. My friend suggested I write an entertaining kind of book, but that's down the road. There are SO many out there right now. It would have to be amazingly different and inspiring. Thanks goodness DIY books don't translate to Kindle. Not yet. Project books are still the kind you want to look at again and again, and you don't mind getting a little glue on them.
To be continued...
To be continued...
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
So far, so good
Being in the "background" for wedding planning seems to be going OK. I don't think I've upset anyone so far, but there's plenty of time left. We have the invitation prototype which is awesome! Can't post until after they've been mailed. Food has been worked out. Rehearsal dinner restaurant- check. Thinking of other fun things to make- using found objects.
Fab distraction from upcoming fundraiser (http://tinyurl.com/dcadfundraiser). Can't wait for that to be over. Looking forward to having the girls home for a few days. Want more sunshine.
Fab distraction from upcoming fundraiser (http://tinyurl.com/dcadfundraiser). Can't wait for that to be over. Looking forward to having the girls home for a few days. Want more sunshine.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
playing with fire
I had fun making a Bali Lantern inspired by Lisa Englebrecht's video. I transferred Christine and Leaf's amazing engagement photos by Kelly Prizell to canvas using gel medium and acetone from inkjet copies. I embellished with Jacuard acrylics, glitter (naturally), stencils, and pigma pens. I'll make smaller ones in the future and make wider borders for better stability. It will be hanging in the Toni and Stuart B. Young Gallery this month. After that- maybe it will make an appearance at the wedding.
Sunday, February 13, 2011
It's been a while, I know.
The inner struggle continues. And yet, the struggle has its own struggle. It is saying "Shut the F up and get movin. Stop whinin. Do something. Finish something. Quit whining about your daily tasks. Quit whining about ANYTHING!" Sheesh. Lots of yelling in my head. "So you aren't God's gift to the fundraising world. So what?"
My goal is to make an envelope for the Graceful Envelope contest, make a piece for the CE show, and relax. Not the paralyzing kind of relaxing because you're overwhelmed; but the "I am only human" kind. I have the other things to do- cooking, laundry, cleaning, work stuff, like always. Can't get Christine's wedding out of my brain, because, not only is it coming very soon, but a great creative escape.
I'm going to go make poached eggs. I'm hungry. I'm lazy. And damn it- I kinda like me.
What a waste of a post. My apologies. But I did it.
My goal is to make an envelope for the Graceful Envelope contest, make a piece for the CE show, and relax. Not the paralyzing kind of relaxing because you're overwhelmed; but the "I am only human" kind. I have the other things to do- cooking, laundry, cleaning, work stuff, like always. Can't get Christine's wedding out of my brain, because, not only is it coming very soon, but a great creative escape.
I'm going to go make poached eggs. I'm hungry. I'm lazy. And damn it- I kinda like me.
What a waste of a post. My apologies. But I did it.
Saturday, October 23, 2010
A sweet distraction
As you may know, Christine is getting married and the preparations have begun. Location: check. Groom: check. Priest: check. Awkward discussions about whom should be invited: check. Budget: check-ish. Dress: CHECK.
We drove to Staten Island to the "Brides Against Breast Cancer" wedding dress sale. Couture and non, all for sale. Lovely volunteers with sad and triumphant stories to share. And all the proceeds go to breast cancer research.
I had taken the day off from work. The weather was perfect; slightly chilly, but the sun was shining. We followed the Google directions which led us through historic towns (who knew) and stereotypical neighborhoods. The Renaissance, where the sale was held, looked like something out of My Big Fat Greek wedding- pillars, back lit Greek busts, faded carpets, silk flowers, grand staircase.
She could take three dresses in to the very public dressing room, but after the first batch, we took in many more. So many pretty and atrocious dresses. Having gone shopping once before, I didn't have high hopes, but having many more options available gave me hope. There were some that were fabulous on her (let's face it, having an hour-glass figure makes shopping much easier). Some that were OK, some that had one flaw that kept it from being "the one." We've watched TLC and seen "Say Yes" but I didn't expect it to be like that- where there is that moment when you know she's found it and you know this is what she'll be wearing next year when she walks down the aisle. But she did find it. It fits perfectly. Wedding dress: check.
Now on to the invitations, the hotel accommodations, the rehearsal dinner, the after wedding party, etc. etc. etc. bring it on.
We drove to Staten Island to the "Brides Against Breast Cancer" wedding dress sale. Couture and non, all for sale. Lovely volunteers with sad and triumphant stories to share. And all the proceeds go to breast cancer research.
I had taken the day off from work. The weather was perfect; slightly chilly, but the sun was shining. We followed the Google directions which led us through historic towns (who knew) and stereotypical neighborhoods. The Renaissance, where the sale was held, looked like something out of My Big Fat Greek wedding- pillars, back lit Greek busts, faded carpets, silk flowers, grand staircase.
She could take three dresses in to the very public dressing room, but after the first batch, we took in many more. So many pretty and atrocious dresses. Having gone shopping once before, I didn't have high hopes, but having many more options available gave me hope. There were some that were fabulous on her (let's face it, having an hour-glass figure makes shopping much easier). Some that were OK, some that had one flaw that kept it from being "the one." We've watched TLC and seen "Say Yes" but I didn't expect it to be like that- where there is that moment when you know she's found it and you know this is what she'll be wearing next year when she walks down the aisle. But she did find it. It fits perfectly. Wedding dress: check.
Now on to the invitations, the hotel accommodations, the rehearsal dinner, the after wedding party, etc. etc. etc. bring it on.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Why Calligraphy?
Calligraphy is the art of beautiful lettering. From the Greek word...Blah blah blah. But what is it? And what is it to me?
I have always loved to read and write. Letters and the power they wield when turned into words. And words made lovely by twisting and turning a pen, a pencil, a brush, a strip of cardboard. Using ink, chalk, paint or water. I not only sound better when I sing in the shower, my fingers create the most amazing letters on the shower door. There, the sides of my fingers and a smidgeon of my nail sweep across the glass, and an "S' becomes magical. A hint of a shadow, and unintended swirl.
This artform can express so much. Anger, joy, peace, tension. And within each project I disappear. Paper after paper, I experiment with words and thoughts that need to be told.
So I teach these classes to help other people express themselves beyond the verbal. To stand in front of a chalkboard and feel the sweep of your arm as it forms the letter "a." Stroke 1, stroke 2, now stroke 3- aha. Larger than life. You learned this letter when you were so tiny, but now it feels as if you are writing it for the first time. But let's perfect stroke 1. Sweep, sweep, sweep. Feels like a rounded check mark, doesn't it? Check, check, check. There is a rhythm. But don't rush it. Not yet. Let us perfect the motion, the balance. Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh. So come and play with me during my class. I have books, and toys, and worksheets. It's a fun and quick two hours and you won't mind doing the homework. I promise!
I have always loved to read and write. Letters and the power they wield when turned into words. And words made lovely by twisting and turning a pen, a pencil, a brush, a strip of cardboard. Using ink, chalk, paint or water. I not only sound better when I sing in the shower, my fingers create the most amazing letters on the shower door. There, the sides of my fingers and a smidgeon of my nail sweep across the glass, and an "S' becomes magical. A hint of a shadow, and unintended swirl.
This artform can express so much. Anger, joy, peace, tension. And within each project I disappear. Paper after paper, I experiment with words and thoughts that need to be told.
So I teach these classes to help other people express themselves beyond the verbal. To stand in front of a chalkboard and feel the sweep of your arm as it forms the letter "a." Stroke 1, stroke 2, now stroke 3- aha. Larger than life. You learned this letter when you were so tiny, but now it feels as if you are writing it for the first time. But let's perfect stroke 1. Sweep, sweep, sweep. Feels like a rounded check mark, doesn't it? Check, check, check. There is a rhythm. But don't rush it. Not yet. Let us perfect the motion, the balance. Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh. So come and play with me during my class. I have books, and toys, and worksheets. It's a fun and quick two hours and you won't mind doing the homework. I promise!
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Just because
Just because I am sitting here at the computer, and there was a reason I got on here, but I don't remember what that was so I got on Facebook and saw pictures of my friend Sandy from elementary school and saw that she had a million friends already, so I looked at all the people she had as friends which led me to look a this one person's page who I was never friends with and their they were- the pictures of the popular people having fun in high school, going to parties, laughing, always smiling, like nothing ever bothered them because they were beautiful and athletic and popular and it seemed like they all came from rich families with older parents, and I know this all seems silly, but there is something about Facebook that stirs up the loneliness of high school (for me, the awkward weird girl), and it's interesting because some people have looked me up and shared stories with me that I would never have expected to hear, but am honored that they feel they can share them with me, so I guess Facebook can help the unconnected feel connected, remind us of how fabulous/sucky high school was and make me glad I am a grown up and can choose who I play with. the end.
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