today i stand in the light. (and a shop special in honor of election day)

stand in the light.
this has become my soul mantra of late.
i uncover and shift and look inward and move the truth, move myself, into the light.
i walk toward the lightness and let go of (some of) the patterns that seemed to serve me.
i see those patterns for what they are.
i see through them.
i see how those patterns held me close in the darkness.
i see them.
i walk away.
i insist that they release me.
i (try to) no longer ignore or push away or pretend.
i take off the blinders.
i want to find me.
i want to see me.
i cannot see me in the darkness.
i walk toward the light.
i bring the truth that sits inside me.
i bring the truth that is my truth that is nestled inside the wisdom i have had all along.
i stand in the light.
i feel the light, the warm yellow healing light, surround me.
i see me.
i see this life that is me.
i see me.
i stand in the light.
i am free.

*****

i have added the stand in the light soul mantra necklace to the shop. it is available in brass and sterling silver. the i hope soul mantra necklace is also now available in sterling silver.

additionally, i have added the i am abloom soul mantra necklace. it is pictured below with the (new) crystal ball necklace from jen's shop. (i love the way the crystal ball necklace looks with the soul mantra pendants. makes me so happy. this is my everyday look now.)

***and a special in honor of election day: if you let me know that you voted (just put it in the notes to seller as you place your order), you will receive 20% off brass soul mantra necklaces and/or free shipping on sterling silver necklaces. i will reimburse you the sale amount (or free shipping) via paypal after you place your order. this sale is through midnight PST on november 4.***

november 2

i crave...

a little cottage on the ocean where i could spend my days creating and writing and working and playing with the windows wide open to the sound of the push and pull of water and sand and time.

an evening spent with my head on jon's chest as we talk about our wildest dreams for our future and i listen to his heart beat with each rise and fall of breath.

sitting at a kitchen table on gerow avenue with the smell of sausage and the taste of cranberry juice and the feel of the brown faceted heavy juice glass and the sight of the jelly jar filled with violets and the sound of her voice as she talks to herself at the stove.

a conversation with my brother where we really listen to one another and show up as our true selves instead of showing up as the roles we think we are supposed to play because of the path behind us.

blueberry pancakes and fresh orange juice and the sunday paper spread across the kitchen table as i sit cross-legged and just take in a day with nothing else to do.

being surrounded by laughter until my sides and the muscles in my face hurt and just for a moment i am convinced that all must be right in the world.

feeling at peace in my own home instead of feeling like i am drowning in my created mess.

stepping off a plane in paris and setting off just like natasha to explore and eat and drink and dream and take in every drop before being so very glad to get home.

an afternoon with my mother, just the two of us, with no phone calls answered or email that need to be checked or people that need us to solve something...just the two of us.

(this prompt is from sabrina ward harrison's book the true and the questions. michelle mentioned it recently, which prompted me to take it out again.)

i see...

there is so much about this photo that i love. i love the way this little girl's hand is resting on her ankle, like she has just paused to take a breath. i love the way those little legs can bend. an early yoga pose. of course, i have to love that messy face and that a person who loved her decided to capture that mess instead of insisting on clean and perfect. i love the joy on that messy face. i love those spice jars hanging. i can see them in my mind in two other kitchens and wish i had them now as they would be perfectly filled with vintage buttons and arranged by color. i love that wallpaper and can close my eyes and feel the texture of it on my fingertips and i can see those pretty hideous fabric window coverings in the breakfast nook attached to the kitchen. i love that piece of wood to the right of the girl as it is the frame of the magic pass-through window between the kitchen and the family room of this most favorite home.

i can close my eyes and see almost every nook of that most beloved childhood home of this little girl...this little girl who was me...who is me...who is a part of me. this little girl who is inside me. this little girl who whispers to me. i can see the closet under the stairs where we kept the bright-orange cushions for the furniture on the screened-in porch. i can see the black and white nubby fabric-covered couch directly across from the fireplace. i can see the stockings made by my grandmother, my father's mother, hanging. i can see the window seat built-in bench next to the fireplace and i can feel it as i lift it open to peek inside. i can see the built-in bookshelves lined with books. and i can see the one short shelf with the parenting books that i would insist i needed to read when faye, my first cabbage patch kid, arrived for christmas. i can see the all white very small living room with the tiny blue leather couch and the tableclothed round table that was really made of cardboard that i accidentally left in the basement of my last apartment in indiana. i can peek across the entryway and see the dining room with the navy blue with a peek of red wallpaper and matching curtains. i can see family around the dining room table and can look down to see a fancy red perfect for the holidays dress and black patent leather shoes with a bow. i turn and see a little boy wearing fuzzy green pajamas sitting on the stairs and going up one step at a time while facing forward and chattering away. i see the landing outside a bedroom with blue carpet and blue flowered wallpaper. i see the tall bed with the old iron bedframe and the fuschia fabric heart that hangs from the bed post. i see the wooden sign that says the little girl's name and has a slightly crooked z. i see the white shelves that hold the dolls i received every birthday and christmas. i want to rearrange them again; pairing them off by best friends or by couple or by color. i see the ice skating girl's blue velvet dress and fluffy white muff and the ice skating boy with matching clothes. i want a little girl who will arrange those dolls in her blue room. i smell the fresh pink and white flowered sheets on the bed that will one day keep traveler warm as i sit outside with him on a february day, on his last day, when i can't get him to come back inside and i sing to him and read to him as i wait for jonny to get home so we can take him to the vet. i see the ballerina pillowcase that i still use because it takes me back to this room, this most favorite of rooms. i see a hope chest that i am not really supposed to open but that i sometimes peek inside just for a moment as i want to always be good but also want to always know. i never touch anything. i just want to peek. i close my eyes and i can see the other rooms. i see the little tiny sewing room with the funny closet that had stairs. i see the little boy's room filled with toys. i see the guest room with the wallpaper that had hidden animals i would see when i had pnemonia and stayed in that room so my parents could hear me in the middle of the night. i see the door to the attic that housed a little girl's perfect playroom. and i hear the voices. the voices of a young family learning together and doing the best that they can. i hear those voices and the sounds of a home. i hear my grandparent's car pull into the driveway and i see myself run to open the garage door and then jump the steps down to the garage floor and duck under the door as it opens so that i can be the first to hug her. i see the sandbox and the rhodedendrins in bloom and the bird feeders and the three fir trees and the small bit of woods and i wish, i wish in this moment, i wish i could be there, right there, back inside that home...hearing those voices...and feeling my heart burst with love.

on the last day of october...

a pocket library tote (part of a giveaway at the end of this post)

i must admit that the month of october blew by me. it just did. poof. suddenly gone.

i have been dipping into blog reading here and there and have really been inspired by all that you are saying. there is a "pulling it all up from the guts and looking at where i am in the world" going on out there. and i have read some words i really needed to read...and felt an invitation to stop keeping so much in and start sharing in this space in ways i used to, especially how i wrote when i first started blogging.

i have felt really overwhelmed about a few things lately and the lonelies have plopped down in the middle of the living room and won't leave me alone. but they are parked in the midst of so much clutter, literal and figurative clutter, and i have decided to finally tackle it. yep. i spent about five hours yesterday beginning to move the little room into the guest room (and from: the living room, the kitchen, the laundry room, and the family room). the little room will become the guest room. i can't wait. i want to just wrinkle my nose and have it done or at least just have the furniture swapped...or have one of you live near me and maybe you could just come over and help for a day. we could get so much done. i would take you out for dinner (sushi?) and you could even spend the night (the guest bed is really comfy) and then jon would make us breakfast. yes. that would be perfect. let's do that.

anyway, i have decided that i just might try to write in this space every single day in november. i'm not going to (at this point) sign up for anything as i don't think i can handle that guilt of not finishing (i am so very good at guilt)...but dar's posts have been pushing me lately...pushing me to let that writer back out of me. pushing me to realize that getting some of these stuck words and feelings out of me might just help me to get out of my head. and i so need to get out of my head.

i passed 700 posts a few posts back. and i really, really want to celebrate that. meant to do that at 600 posts and then at my three-year blog birthday last month. ahhh...this is the way it has been lately. anyway, i really want to celebrate with a thank you for all that you give me by stopping by and sharing yourself with me...and thank those of you with blogs who give pieces of yourself as you share your world...

the library pocket tote at the top of this post is a favorite of mine. i bought up all the yards i could find of that cursive writing blackboard fabric. it just makes me happy. and i use a bit of it every now and then. this giveaway will include that tote and then a few other of my favorite things like vintage buttons and other vintage bits.

so to enter this little giveaway that seems a bit hidden at the end of this post, please share something you are hoping for in this moment in your life.

i will start: i hope for change next tuesday.

one (really) good thing.

i was watching msnbc just now. chris matthews interviewing rachel maddow. she mentioned that people in florida are indicating how the lines are too long for early voting. and they aren't waiting. matthews said something about how when one looks back on history that excuse isn't really going to cut it.

yep.

not wanting to wait.

how are you going to tell your grandchildren that one?
how are you going to tell yourself that when you look in the mirror?

please just do this one really good thing.

please.
just.
vote.

in the moment. this moment.

port townsend view, photo by jonny

port townsend always invites me to feel refreshed and open. love that place.

back from artfiberfest, my heart and head are full of goodness and ideas. a sense of renewel is swirling around me. at the same time though, i am also feeling a bit lonely as my house is so quiet and when i plug in my sewing machine and begin to create, i am not surrounded by friends and laughter.

this is what happens. lots and lots of goodness. then lots and lots of quiet. and i am struggling with that a bit.

and when i struggle with this feeling, this lonely quiet sort of feeling, i try to just stay as present as possible. breathing. in this moment. just being here.

i took three delightful classes with mary stanley, ruth rae, and tracie lyn and marylin huskamp. really, really good stuff. i learned rug hooking (and began to understand how long each project takes and the talent it takes and proceeded to buy two fantastic pieces from mary at vendor night because i love it all so much - photos to come)...i was pushed to think of ways to use all the vintage bits i have been collecting for the last few years and i learned about how visually appealing layering is and how really really fun it is to dye things (more on ruth's class in another post after i finish my soulful doors)...and...AND...i totally painted a bird onto fabric. yep. can't wait to tell you more about that experience after i take some photos...

and i spent time with some wonderful people (list to come...promise...i just want to get all the links together and that takes a bit of time). the group that is the small retreat of artfiberfest just rocks my world. adore them.

tonight i am putting aprons into the shop (natasha reversible aprons and selma task aprons). we have been blessed with some beautiful blue sky around here, which made taking the photos a joy yesterday.

and i know i mentioned updating the shop with scarves this week, but i am sending the scarves i curently have off on an adventure.

so, if you are interested in a selma patchwork scarf (like the one above) and some fall-ish selma patchwork pillows (like the one below), head over to the online shop of artstream studios. i am so delighted to have my first batch of items listed there (a big thanks to susan for her kindness and patience and for helping me to live a dream that was once just a comment on a blog post).

sorry i have been quiet lately...but i so appreciate your emails and comments and how you remind me that i am not alone.
you are not alone either.
thank you for you.

two girls, two clicks {week six}

1. bounce, 2. droplets

photo collaboration with miss geek inc, week 6

2 girls, 2 clicks

two girls, two clicks {week five}

1. listing, 2. release

photo collaboration (for this group) with miss geek inc, week 5

having so much fun with these.