current uniform week one {self-portrait challenge}

flannel pjs and quilted patchwork scarf, 5 november 2007

the maple in our backyard has almost shed her clothing, anticipating her time of rest and renewel. the as old-as-the-house heater stirs a bit more often lately. soup, more mugs of tea, spiced cider, and roasted root vegetables become cravings.

autumn has settled in for a stay. and today, it seems that winter has begun to write letting us know of her imminent arrival.

i tuck myself in for the day in flannel pajamas, a scarf, and some other necessities.

(see what other foks are wearing here)

one word.

the best thing about falling backwards when you didn't realize you were supposed to on a night when you hardly slept?
when the alarm went off with these words from the woman on npr, "today standard time begins. what are you going to do with your extra hour?"

one word. sleep.

a post where i ramble a bit

breakfast for dinner, dinner for one. 3 november 2007.

it seems a bit serendipitous to be somewhat unexpectedly spending this evening alone.

i made myself breakfast for dinner and ate it on our wedding china and drank apple juice from one of our wedding goblets. making this dinner and "plating it" felt like a sacred moment of alone time. (a sacred sunday moment on a saturday.)

then, i settled in for a dvr'd episode of this guilty, campy pleasure (i did say campy, but could have just as easily said eye candy-filled).

it is that darn song at the beginning of this show though that sticks with me always, for hours. it is a fun song really that plays on repeat in my head. but tonight, i listened to the lyrics a bit differently as i realized that elvis is singing a version of my mantra of late:

a little less conversation, a little more action.

yes, yes, yes to this. i spend a lot of time in my head. and, i spend a lot of time thinking about the word "begin." i have spent a lot of time talking about the importance of beginning, but i have realized that my beginning seems a lot like thinking and talking and not a lot like action.

last year, i thought i was beginning something. but instead, i ended up spending a lot of time thinking instead of doing. and, i was sick for a bit, and life well, let's just say that last november life turned upside down for a bit.

and i have spent most of the last twelve months, not every moment, but a lot of moments in my head, twirling in circles a bit for various reasons because of several different things that have happened in the last year.

at some point in 2006, i had this realization that the grief i was experiencing over my grandmother's death had become a new beginning of sorts. a rebirth of the little unafraid, creative, fearless girl inside me. i began to think of myself a bit like a phoenix. and i often turned to deb talan's lyrics, as i have mentioned in this space many times, because it was as though that was my song. but, i always paused at the rest of the line that often quote:

Dry your wings in the sun
You have only begun to understand
When it's time to move on there is no one
To hold your hand.

i guess i have always felt a bit annoyed that she is saying that there is no one there. because, i always thought there was supposed to be someone there.

tonight, after i watched a little tv, i spent time creating a new design i have been thinking about for a while. i pieced bits of fabric together for a long time, listening to my ipod on shuffle. i paused a bit when cass fox started singing "army of one." something about the repetition of "you gotta feel it, you gotta want it, you gotta own it" along with this image of being an army of one...something about it made me stop. and think.

the idea that we must realize we are our own army of one. the idea that after you have been "reborn" as the phoenix is, just after, when your wings are drying and you are remembering to breathe, this is a time for sacred alone-ness.

i have been missing this point a bit. or at least i spent time this past year forgetting what i already know to be true.

long ago, i recognized that i am one of those people who feels lonely at times. and, i have learned that this is a lot more common than i once thought. still, i have sometimes mistaken the letting go of things, whatever those things might be, as loneliness. but, now i realize that maybe i have instead been given opportunities to spend time in this sacred alone-ness.

and, of course, part of the beauty of all of this occurs when you suddenly realize, after you pull yourself out of it (whatever it is for you), that you are not alone. not even a little bit.

this is where i am. i am inviting myself to stop the thinking and swirling of unhealthy repetition. i am inviting myself to realize that the stopping itself is action. i am inviting myself to realize that the more i worry or assume, the less i am moving forward. i am inviting myself to realize that it is okay to spend time in the thought, as this is who i am, but that moving forward is indeed the plan. i am inviting myself to realize that i am not alone. i am inviting myself to realize the power in being alone. i am inviting myself to let go and begin.

a little less conversation, a little more action.
(thanks elvis.)

today

unexpected time together, so we went exploring:

here,
here, (where i adopted this little girl created by this awesome artist)
and here followed by here (where i was able to to this again)

what more could a girl want really?

(this is truth)

Oh, the comfort - the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person - having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words, but pouring them all right out, just as they are, chaff and grain together; certain that a faithful hand will take and sift them, keep what is worth keeping, and then with the breath of kindness blow the rest away.

Dinah Craik

(thank you)

meet natasha

The story of the (reversible) Natasha Aprons

Where is Natasha today? Perhaps…

Walking through Pike Place Market gathering ingredients for bouillabaisse and sour cream biscuits.

Capturing the rhododendrons in bloom while climbing Mt. LeConte.

Browsing the Paris flea markets for love letters from men named Bernard.

Snug at home creating and loving while always dancing in her life.

Natasha never needs much on her adventure, but pockets (for chocolate, a lens cap, tea bag, pencil, journal, and the other tools of her life) are a must. She's found that it's easier to wear her pocket-full apron as she buzzes about in her world, so that she has access to everything she needs.

Natasha. The name that was almost mine, but my parents, instead, agreed on Elizabeth. I think of Natasha as an alter ego of sorts out there exploring in the world. Almost like this "other self" and a lot like a self uncaged.

I keep thinking of other places where she might be and what she might be doing…let me know if you run into her…

*******

These aprons were inspired by one that I made for myself this summer. Lately, I have been wearing it as I run errands, as I create in my home, as I go out in to the world and take pictures…the list goes on. It is my current favorite accessory.

I have put a few in my shop. They are in a variety of sizes because I believe that no matter a woman's waist and hip size, she should have an apron she can fashionably wear out in the world.

action

choices, 27 october 07

I have been wrestling with a decision lately. One that isn't a major life decision, but one that affects my creative journey. I had decided not to do something that I wanted to do. And, when thinking about the reasons why, I had trouble coming up with any really. Thoughts about how I didn't want to "seem." However, at different times during this past weekend, I had thoughts like, "why am I not doing this?"

In the early morning hours, I woke up with this phrase on my mind, "I feel like I am asking for too much."

Asking for too much?

What does that even mean in this context?

When it comes to wanting to get my creations out into the world…getting my creative self out there…sharing my story…is there really asking for too much?

I suppose there could be, but after this phrase popped into my mind, I started grinning. Ahhh, the old fear of not being able to ask for what I want.

I realized: I am afraid.

So I got up and acted.

This afternoon, I was at the post office mailing off some packages from The Little Room. I also had to overnight a document. As Jeff, my (sorry to all the others) favorite postal worker, was stamping the express mail documentation, we were talking about various things. Sidetracked by this, I misunderstood what he meant when he said, "Must be there before noon tomorrow." I replied with, "Why?" And he looked at me with confusion and said, "Why would you get what you want?"

I started laughing, "Oh, right, the express mail package will be there before noon tomorrow."

Yes, yes, that is what I want.

Two connected ideas:

Am I asking for too much?
Why would you get what you want?

Little whispers of truth in the midst of everyday life.
Little reminders that I know what I want.
Little reminders of my dreams, hopes, passions.

And, little reminders of the need for action.

I begin.
I act.
I continue.

sacred sunday: afternoon rhythm

press, measure, pin, repeat.

this is the rhythm of sewing + creating. this is the rhythm of my sunday afternoon.

and while pressing, measuring, pinning (repeating), i listened to and sang along with mandy moore.

yes, mandy moore.

a classmate from high school thought i might enjoy her new album. (thank you.) i downloaded it a few weeks ago, but today, i really lost myself in the songs. i paid attention and found connection.

it is a really good "indie folk" album.

really good.

she wrote some of the songs with the weepies. yes, the weepies.

the album is called "wild hope."

a soundtrack for a sacred sunday afternoon.