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nine {with hannah marcotti}

liz lamoreux

The Nine is an interview series with creative folks that began on my blog, Be Present, Be Here, in the Spring of 2009; the interviewees are asked to respond to nine questions in photographs (or video). All the interviews can be found here.

Today, I am welcoming Hannah Marcotti to my corner. Hannah's Instagram photos are so often favorites of mine (I heart Instagram) and if you aren't already signed up for her newsletter, you are missing out on beautiful words delivered to your inbox each week. She deeply inspires me with the way she looks at the world, the honest ways she shares her truth, and how she invites others to be themselves through her bravery and her stories. 

Enjoy these slices of Hannah's world as she answers the Nine questions.

***

Question 1: Who are you?

Question 2: In this moment, where are you?

Question 3: What are the textures of your corner of the world?

Question 4: If you had an hour alone to just play, what would you do?

Question 5: How do you seek joy?

Question 6: What nourishes you?

Question 7: When you need to simply take a breath and ground yourself, what do you do?

Question 8: How do you nurture your creative dreams?

Question 9: Does your heart have a secret wish you want to share?

***

Hannah Marcotti is a quietly impassioned motivator who serves as guide to your gorgeous life and business of the heart.

She is a highly sensitive mama who wishes to help you dream and seek out the truth of your purpose and help you celebrate life. She is often found tattooing joy on the spirits of those in her community.

Connect with her at her website.

 

(all photos copyright Hanna Marcotti)

this is me

liz lamoreux

this is me . sept 19

this is me.

me wrapping trust around my wrist. me on the path. me finding my daughter's barrette on the floor and slipping it in my hair. me drinking tea, drinking life, choosing yes. me head bopping, mumford and sons singing, me.

me releasing the whispering, taunting ghosts. me resting between grace and fear. me holding out my hand. me creating space for joy. me needing a shower. me needing more space, white space. now. me.

me talking in circles. me getting off the train. me releasing me from what it has to be. me hearing you circle. me steeped in gratitude. me sloughing off the anger. me barefoot, heart sleeves, hammering, twirling, breathing it all in. me trusting. me.

right here. breath. light. love. me.

an interview with catherine odell

liz lamoreux

Stella Finding Balance . print available here

Today, I am thrilled to share an interview with artist and musician Catherine Odell. I love the way Cat looks at the world and how she is inviting us to come along with her on an adventure with her current project: writing and illustrating a children's book about Stella, an elephant who finds herself in the circus. First, a peek into Cat's creative world and how Stella came to be:

Watching this video, so many questions came up in my mind about Cat's creative process and Stella's story, and lucky for us, Cat agreed to answer a few:

Q: I love that Stella came out of a sketch you drew while in the middle of a recording studio, and I really want to know more about this. Do you often have your sketchbook with you so you can turn to it when you need to process or simply shift your energy a bit?

A: Absolutely. When there are a lot of things swimming around in my head, I pull out my sketchbook. It helps me channel the swarm and give the mess some purpose or direction. If I get an idea out of my head and onto paper, then it doesn't haunt me anymore. I can focus, sort through it, develop it. And there are other times when I turn to my sketchbook because I'm looking for something to do. I wouldn't call it boredom, but maybe just that I'm feeling stagnant or detached from my surroundings. Just by making lines and shapes, I can almost jump start my brain, spark a new idea. So it's both. Sometimes it is a shift, from stagnant to active, and others times it's about calming the storm, it's about processing. Mostly I just feel more connected to my thoughts when they are sitting there staring back at me. 

Q: Can you share a bit more about how the idea for that first sketch appeared? Was it fully formed in your mind before you started sketching?

A: That one in particular was in my mind before it hit the paper, but it was fuzzy around the edges. It's almost like seeing something that is lit from behind, and you can just barely make it out. And the closer you get, the more the figure appears and the light fades. It becomes real. This is probably my favorite sequence in drawing. Sit and think, let it take shape in your mind, and then put that on paper. But since it doesn't always happen that way, sometimes the best thing you can do is to just draw a line, and then another line...softly at first, and then see how they take shape. Stare at the page. Turn it. What do you see now? 

Thinking About the Next Step . print available here

Q: I have to admit to projecting a bit of Ellie's story as a toddler onto Stella. When I saw Stella looking at the tricycle "thinking about the next step," I couldn't help but think about how in some ways this is part of Ellie's everyday because so much is new to a two year old. But then I started thinking about how this is really true for all of us - we are always learning and trying to decide if we are going to risk taking that next step. Is Stella inspired by anyone in your life? Or maybe by your own journey?

A: I keep finding pieces of myself in this story that I didn't even recognize at first, and the more time I spend with Stella's story, the more personal it becomes. That wasn't my goal when I set out, and it still isn't, but things come out and sneak their way into the picture. Illustration is a lot like songwriting to me. No matter what my initial intentions are, it seemingly always ends up incorporating bits of my life and subconscious. Even though Stella knows failure might be inevitable, she still tries.  

Q: What's next for your journey with Stella? 

A: For this initial phase, I've allowed myself time to simply draw, without expectations. The freedom to jump around. No direction, just raw impulse. Now it's time to get down to business. I just pulled out the post-it's, so you know it's serious. Rather than keep everything locked up Willie Wonka style until the book is finished, however, I'm documenting this journey in my brand spanking new blog. I'm opening the doors to my little garage, and letting myself be accountable to strangers. Even as I sit answering this question, I'm starting to get that buzzy feeling in my arms (or is that the iced toddy?). It makes me nervous. Really!? Is this a good idea? I have no idea! And that's why I'm doing it. And maybe the process is only interesting after you see the finished work. Maybe no one cares about what's behind the scenes until they've seen the end result. I don't know. It's all an experiment, but I like to think that I will learn something simply by sharing it, that writing it down will be revealing, and that maybe I'll connect with a few kindred spirits along the way.

***

Learn more about Catherine and Stella by visiting www.canyoufeedthedog.com and connect with her on Twitter. You can buy original sketches and prints at her Etsy shop

[You might also recognize Cat as one half of one of my favorite groups Hello MTN (the other half is my brother Matt). So this means that when Ellie watched the video above, she squealed with delight when seeing her Aunt Catherine who not only sings her song (the song Matt and Catherine wrote for Ellie when she was born) but also draws her favorite animal. Best. aunt. ever.] 

yes. this.

liz lamoreux

EJ

evening backyard shenanigans

Tonight a little voice from down the hall called out "Mama."

Mama.

For months, she's been saying mama in the name everyone in our family and point to them sort of way. But tonight was the first time she said it without being prompted. Said it while by herself. Said it in the way I have explained so many times, "When you need help, you can just say Help or Mama and I will be right there." 

Her words are tumbling out these days. I know you said they would. She's understood so much for so long that it just didn't seem to make sense that the words weren't there. But of course they were. She is just saying things in her time. As she should.

But as the words kept coming, a little part of my heart kept wondering when she would say that one word in that way that means, "Hey, you who loves me. I need you."

Tonight she did.

Yes.

a conversation with jennifer louden

liz lamoreux

Today, I am delighted to share a conversation I recently had with kindred spirit Jennifer Louden. A few highlights: We muse on the question "why retreat," Jen shares about her first book tour when she drove around the country with copies of her bestselling book The Woman's Comfort Book in the trunk of her car, I admit to needing to remember to practice self-care at my own retreats, and Jen talks about why her course TeachNow (taught with Michele Lisenbury Christensen) is called TeachNow.

I've been a fan for a long time (from Jen's Comfort Queen years!) and am honored to have her visit my corner of the world today. Enjoy!

A little about Jen: Jen Louden is a personal growth pioneer who helped launch the self-care movement with her first book The Woman’s Comfort Book. She co-created, with Fortune 100 executive trainer Michele Lisenbury Christensen, the popular course TeachNow for people who need more confidence, more income, and more power in their teaching – no matter the subject. On September 19th you can try TeachNow for free with the call Jen mentions in the video. Find out more about the call and TeachNow over here.

here

liz lamoreux

rumi wisdom on my wall :: art by @kellybarton (download yours free at <a href=

new print from Kelly Barton up on my wall
available as a free download at chickadee road

over here it's tea + toast + quilts + more episodes of doc martin than i will ever admit as my body gives me a message of "rest is the only way baby girl" in the form of a cold.

and as i've been resting in the quiet, i keep coming up with more things i want to tell you...

i might be a bit behind the crowd, but i have been totally bewitched by downton abbey. not since colin firth brooded through pride and prejudice have i been this in love with a story. oh my goodness. and the trailer for season 3? yes. please. 

viv's "behind the photo" series is so so good. this post about choosing to see beauty is a must read. yes.

we've started going to the library and although EJ hasn't quite gotten the hang of the picking out the books to take them home part, we are having fun. a current favorite is Yes by Amy Krouse Rosenthal. i look forward to having a surprise "Yes Day" with Ellie.

the posts over at roots of she are filling me up. this one by darrah and this one by jen had me wanting to just hug each of them tight. (darrah's post even caused me to create a pinboard of posts and articles that will help me remember i'm not alone on those tough mama days)

between stacy's conscious queen's manifesta (and the way the words came to her) and hannah's post about "My Superpower is You," I am deeply inspired to put pen to paper and write pieces of my story that I've been holding close. Yes.

i've been a fan of rachel awes for a while now, and these simple words about love are beautiful. 

and hanging out in bed has meant a bit of window shopping and finding fun things like this cowl, these bowls, oh and these bowlsthis house, this ring, and this mobile.

***

 

Now that I am settling into my new studio and some organization, I am taking custom orders again over at my Etsy shop. You can see the lockets, bracelets, and other customizable options here.

 

 

i want to remember

liz lamoreux

hello cute new happy shoes that match my studio

where i stand

Today is Ellie's sixth day of daycare, and the first day where I've pulled up to our house with the backseat quiet and felt a deep tug of missing her. Not that I haven't missed her while she has been there the other days. But this time alone in my studio, in my home, has given me space I haven't had in more than two years. The space I create for other women, but haven't myself had for long stretches of time: space to just be me.

It feels as though fractured pieces of me are reaching out to one another and pulling me back together.

And this is good. And part of the beauty and truth of being open to noticing.

As I was sinking into my day today, I was thinking about how I am about five weeks behind with Project Life. Summer was so full and the awesome chaos of it didn't leave time for it. And I don't want to spend time worrying about catching up and then not capturing this transition of this new schedule and way of living for our family.

That tug of missing was inviting in the overwhelm.

But then I went to Ali's blog today and she gave me a place to begin with the wonderful prompt: I want to remember.

off she goes...

this morning as we left for school

I want to remember the way Ellie carries her lunchbox each day as she walks out the door, but then she turns around to hand it to me before she walks down the steps because it is "too heavy."

I want to remember our morning routine: Jon gets up and gets ready for work. Then he wakes me up, and he goes to the kitchen to make breakfast. I get dressed and most mornings I hear Ellie begin to stir in her room. When I go in to get her, we stretch and then talk about the day's plan as we choose her clothes. Then we eat breakfast with Jon. Then he leaves for work; we brush our teeth; and then we get her lunchbox and head out the door to go and see her new friends. 

I want to remember the exquisite silence of being alone.

I want to remember that sitting at the table for dinner invites in another layer of intimacy and connection.

I want to remember watching Ellie on the slide over and over again when she didn't realize I was at school to pick her up.

I want to remember hearing Ms. A say to Ellie, "Eleanor Jane, you crack me up, you know that?" and Ellie saying so loudly, "Yeah!"

I want to remember how she held on to me after a rough day and found comfort in the quiet space between us.

I want to remember the look on her face when her daddy gets home.

I want to remember that Millie and I hang out in the studio together all day and I often get to listen to her soft snores.

I want to remember the pure joy I felt playing with fabric and thread and paper again.

I want to remember the way Ellie walks up to her friends to tell them "ba-bye."

I want to remember how she bravely gets down from my arms each day and walks to Ms. A even though she doesn't want me to go.

I want to remember the brave way I get in the car each day and trust that her healing heart will guide her.