When Bill and I were co-pastors of a new church development in the mid to late ’90’s, we had a deal. I preached on Fathers Day and he preached on Mothers Day. They’re not easy Sundays!
Ignoring for the moment that these are not technically religious holidays with biblical stories attached (especially Mothers Day!), they’re hard days for very many people.
I remember the stories so well. The parents who had lost, or never had, beloved children. Those who had lost parents since the last Hallmark holiday. Those whose children and grandchildren were struggling in the world. Those who lost children to HIV and violence and drugs and cancer.
Today is, at least in the USA, Fathers Day.
My emotions run amok!
I am blessed with a husband who is a good and kind and caring father.
My son is also a good and kind and caring father.
I miss my dad.
I feel for the women in my family, and across the world, who knew or know men who are not good and kind and caring.
There is much to be done!
This year, however, neither of us is preaching, and as much as I cherish that part of my calling, I’m also called to admit that this is not entirely a bad thing.
Instead, a fast trip to the hardware store for (maybe, just maybe) a fig tree, and a gallon of white paint, as directed by my new buddy, Barry, at https://www.fineartmarketplace.com/sue-boardman
Noodle for lunch, complete with fortune cookies!
Hopefully, time to chat with the kid-dad who just might find a break from coaching whatever matters to his girls this week and tossing something fish-y on the grill.
And the blessing of knowing that when we get a minute to talk about some hard stuff in the next few days, that same kid-dad will take time to listen.
And hug the girls for me.
By next week, I’ll be there with live and in person hugs. It doesn’t get much better than that! (Well, maybe a heap of crabs on a table covered with newspaper, too!)
Not to mention red thread and sparkly paint and swim practice and a bit of really good chocolate wrapped in something gluten-free. Check back for the recipes!
For tonight, a few more buttons and Ana Marina (Our Lady of Living Waters) will be done! Watch for the update!!!
Blessings where you are!
(And the fig tree, it seems, will be happier planted in the fall. Maybe we’ll have another holiday!)
We all have our favorite ways. I knit prayer shawls and brush dogs and make quart after quart of bone broth. Watering the garden works. Binging on The West Wing works, as long as I avoid current news at the same time!
Turns out, gluing buttons to paintings works, too.
It would be a bit better if I didn’t have to keep stopping to clear out the little nozzle thing on the glue, but that’s okay.
I’ve loved buttons for years. I recycle them from Bill’s shirts when they outlive their useful lives. I buy pint Mason jars full in vintage stores. White and ivory, mostly tiny, I use them for quilts and glue them to lampshades. (Well, I did glue them to lampshades before I took all the fabric off the vintage lampshades and just went with the frames!)
These days, paintings. And, as I was in grave danger of running out, I actually broke down and bought spare buttons from Amazon. Two bags full. Wildly mixed sizes.
The first task, sorting. Tiny. Medium. Larger.
Then, practicing well-balanced randomness. Also known as randomesque. (Actual random is pretty hard!)
Non-toxic glue. A bit finicky but safe and it dries really clear.
I’m taking some to my kids. Buttons, glue, and picture frames. I’m about to be in charge of Grammy Camp for a week!
For now, it doesn’t solve all the problems, even in my world. It does have a fascinating mix of flow and structure. (Read that right brain – left brain.) And it’s just fiddly enough to be distracting. I could use a bit of distracting about now.
And a bit of sleep.
Tomorrow, about five hours of painting. Yay!!!
Some new photos for a MOO printing project.
Bill, blessedly, in charge of dinner.
And, according to FedEx, some fabulous pasture raised eggs and a big box of frozen dog food. (Sorting the freezer is not nearly as relaxing as sorting buttons!)
Along with a reminder that there are some things in life that we have to learn again and again. Some days I think I’d change that if I could. Instead, notes.
And hugs for all of you who are learning the hard things just now.
We got our first family dog when I was two years old. His name was Charley Brown the Beagle Dog and what I remember most about him is that he was soft.
My mom remembered that trying to potty train a puppy and a two year old child at the same time was, shall we say, not quite sane.
I’ve been watching dogs, and learning from them, pretty much ever since.
One of the conclusions I’ve reached is that a big difference between dogs and people is that dogs don’t spend a lot of time fussing and fuming about the way things “ought to be”.
I have, occasionally, been known to do a bit of that fussing and fuming.
We’ve had more than a bit of a drought going on in the Southeast U.S. (I say this with compassion for all the folks in the middle of the U.S. who have been having quite the opposite experience.)
My baby collard greens have been crispy around the edges and there has been much wrestling with stubborn garden hoses involved. And a bit of playing drinking fountain for tiny green dragons.
Yesterday, however, it rained. Stormed, actually. A lot. And I was out picking up art.
I did a bit of muttering about what might have been more convenient for me. The dogs just got wet which, being Newfoundlands, worked fine for them.
Lunch, on the other hand, was delightful, if more than a bit damp.
Then, the painting known as the Muse was apparently off duty last night as my dreams were way more nightmares than inspiration. (There are reasons for this but they’re not all that relevant just yet.)
Our internet and cable service have been out almost all day, presumably having something to do with yesterday’s monsoon.
Still, I had things to do.
I started with the next layer on a painting, which may become known as Our Lady of Flowering Earth (Visits Italy!).
Then I sorted buttons for the finishing steps of my first mixed media work.
All of which was useful, but left me restless and wishing I was napped out with the dogs.
Then I decided a bit of Feng shui was in order.
To the best of my understanding, Feng shui is the ancient Asian art in which energy and intention come together. (Which sounds rather like Intentional Creativity!)
In a very simplistic sense, the practitioner decides what she is trying to accomplish, generally in the areas like health, relationships, and abundance.
A compass and a dust rag generally come next.
Then, following a whole lot more tradition than I quite grasp yet, it’s time for rearranging art and accessories and so forth to make space for the desired outcomes.
Here’s what I do understand. It’s all about energy. And my favorite part of all the Feng shui I’ve learned is that it takes more energy to ignore things that aren’t working than it does to adjust things to get them to work better!
Today, lots of sketching of things I couldn’t quite manage alone. Serious re-arranging of books so that they’re now in parts of the den reinforced by their topics.
All with frequent breaks for gluing buttons.
It’s hard to say what will happen next. I just know that I’m spending less time muttering about what’s wrong and actually moving toward where I’d like to be.
I imagine the dogs are proud. Especially since I gave them wild salmon trim for dinner! I suspect I’m going to be clinging hard to this way of being for the next couple of weeks.
In the meantime… more dog brushing. It’s good Feng shui, too!
I have a confession to make. I never went to Kindergarten! (I’m counting on the likelihood that Columbia Seminary won’t ask for my doctorate back!)
I did go, for a brief period of time in the early ’60’s, to a pre-school program where I remember spending a lot of time sitting on the floor in what seemed like a dark room, singing Puff, the Magic Dragon. And, yes, I still know all the words.
Singing, however, did not turn out to be one of my greater gifts and I went on to learn other things.
Lately, I’ve been learning about thinking about thinking.
Today, I had an unexpected moment to practice. I was sitting at the table by the front window of my studio, waiting for a young paint buddy when some movement caught my attention.
Brief reminder… even with my very cool glasses, I don’t see as well as I used to!
Anyway, after a moment I realized I was face to face with a cute little chipmunk of the usual brown persuasion, sitting up like a begging dog, about halfway across the garden which is covered, between the raised beds, in lots of brown wood chips. And she was looking right at me.
At first I was surprised. Not that chipmunks are unusual. Just that I don’t think I’ve ever noticed one looking at me.
Then I was grateful. Grateful that we have our tiny corner of the universe where there have been no chemicals used for almost 20 years. Grateful that some of our food comes from that garden. And grateful for the birds I began to notice, doing what I sincerely hope is their snacking before it rains routine.
And then I remembered that my farm grandmother, Elsie, used to say that a cardinal was a sign that a loved one who had passed on was thinking of us. And I noticed myself wondering…
And then I wished I could call a new teacher of mine, Robin Wall Kimmerer, who wrote the magnificent quote above (which I discovered just this morning) and thank her for being part of my education.
Just after that, I looked at the clock and hoped my missing paint buddy was okay, swallowed a tiny spark of irritation, and reminded myself that my job is to help him discover his gifts and how to use them for good in the world.
That’s when I remembered that a couple of years ago the amazing author, artist, and teacher known as SARK, told me that I was, before all else, a teacher.
Susan is generally right!
Therefore, my left brain… the side that’s into things like structure and order, suggested, without resorting to the mean voice, that a text to his mom to find him another time was in order.
Though, at that point, there were two cardinals in the garden and I decided to sit and learn just a bit longer. Which, when you think about it, is a pretty good reminder that the young man in question is teaching me, too.
I just wish, for all our sakes, that we could get Dr. Kimmerer named Secretary of Education!
If you’re new around here, you may not know that the fabulous bag in the photo followed me home from Italy last fall. It literally called my name from the floor of a shop full of Italian leather goods and insisted on becoming what we Color of Woman folks call our medicine baskets. (I resisted for all of about two minutes!)
In addition to Henry, there are some new things in my medicine bag lately. Some are actual things and some are things I’ve learned. Just in case you’re up for learning new things, too, here are a few. Kind of like the old-fashioned Hints from Heloise !
First, did you know that you can keep avocados in your fridge? You can! Let them sit on the counter until they’re ripe to touch, then stash them in a basket in the fridge for as much as 4 or 5 days and use as desired.
I eat lots of avocados and this makes the shopping w-a-y easier!!! (I take them out 45 minutes to an hour ahead of time so they’re room temp-ish.)
Then, there’s the matter of dog soup. Not soup made of dogs! Soup for dogs.
Our herd eats raw food, exception for bone broth. They’re also supposed to eat veg but mine are not fans. So, with my recent enormous batch of broth, I (finally!) had the inspiration to run a batch of raw veg through the VitaMix and then whisk it in with their chilled broth before I packed and froze it.
This time, lots of greens from the garden. Ideally, below and above ground veg together. Easiest example, carrots with the feathers still on. (Next time!) Just grind them with a bit of broth until liquid, mix them into the broth, then portion and freeze.
And, yes, it works for hiding veg on kids, too!!!
Then, a blast from the past. Once upon a time, I had knee surgery six times in nine years. That was a whole lot of time with my feet up, trying to feel useful.
I spent a huge chunk of that time knitting prayer shawls for Shallowford Presbyterian Church. Between the pain pills and my own tendency to do only a couple of things at a time, I needed to keep it simple.
Instead of fancy patterns which require lots of counting, I concentrated on breathing and praying. Frequently, (inhale) Mighty God… (exhale) hold them close.
Stitch by stitch, row after row, back and forth, back and forth. Miles and miles of knitting.
Lately, I’ve been knitting again. (I’ve needed a bit of self-soothing!)
This time, sparkly red yarn. A reminder of the web which connects us as humans moving through life who, often, need some prayer and support.
Then, at the risk of geeking out a bit… Dostoevsky and Puddleglum. Really!
I encountered C.S. Lewis’s Chronicles of Narnia during my first year in seminary. I hurt my back during the January term and spend much of my time flat on the couch. A dear friend brought me the paperback versions of the Chronicles because they were light and easy to hold over my head to read.
I fell in love with the Marsh Wiggle, Puddleglum, in book four, The Silver Chair. Puddleglum is my hero!
Then, in the midst of Luther’s recovery, when I was stressed to the max, I picked up Buechner 101… Essays and Sermons by Frederick Buechner, with an intro by Anne Lamott.
Wait for it…
Maybe the final answer that faith can give to that awesome and final question occurs in a letter that Dostoevsky wrote to a friend in 1854. “If anyone proved to me that Christ was outside the truth,” he wrote, “and it really was so that the truth was outside Christ, then I would prefer to remain with Christ than with the truth.”
Puddleglum was Dostoevsky!!!
(If these folks are unfamiliar, please go read asap!)
And then, a contemporary magic wand.
I’ve been a fan of the work of Belleruth Naperstak at Health Journeys for years. Her guided imagery recordings are magical. I’ve lived with the Successful Surgery set. (Seriously!)
I’ve recommended these resources to family, friends, and clients for years. Time and technology being what they are, the CD’s have become harder for folks to access. Enter the brand new app that allows you to access recordings via your phone or computer without eating all your hard drive space!
And now I’m delighted to be able to offer you access to the app at a discount for 6 months.
Trouble sleeping, grief, recovery, accessing creativity, stress relief, cancer, spiritual guides, even empowering imagery for kids… Health Journeys can help. Interested? Go to https://healthjourneys.muvi.com/en/user/register
Choose your plan. The deals are amazing!
***Enter the coupon code, special to us, FierceGma10 with your credit card info to receive 10% off for 6 months.
Then go to your mobile device and download the App from either Google Play or iTunes.
Sign in. Enjoy! (NOT while you’re driving!!!)
I don’t endorse something like this all that often but this is right up there with Puddleglum and Dostoevsky!!!
I am also a person who puts way more things on my list than I usually get crossed off. You may (or may not) relate to this.
Today has been a pretty good list day.
Sixteen quarts of bone broth in the freezer.
Two loads of laundry done and dried outside. One more in process.
Beasties tended. And fed. (This is vital!)
Bernie Sanders webinar complete. (Also vital!)
Blog post (almost!) done.
More close-to-finishing touches done on Our Lady of Living Waters.
Our Lady of the Flowering Earth begun. (Time out for happy dancing!) This one was kind of a surprise.
This is the painting that “hatched” itself in a dream recently. I thought I had it all figured out. Then I went crazy and and watched the videos!
I suspect the painting will turn out a bit different from the dream (and the videos) but I can already tell it will be even better because I did all the under layers as you can see, above.
This feels really good! It’s the me I’ve been since I was about 12 years old. It’s the me I am as a grandmother with two girls growing up in this world.
It’s the me who believes that we are created to create.
And it’s the me who knows that some of you are muttering, “Not me!” about now.
Let’s allow for the moment that I don’t believe that you are not an artist. I hear you. For decades, I didn’t understand, either. It’s just that being creative is an essential part of being human. So, I’m asking you to keep reading.
Art helps kids relate to the world and express themselves. (Adults, too!)
Art helps with stress management, which helps with health, which helps with stronger families.
Art helps with hope for the world.
Now, I know that not all of you are in a position to turn the place that used to be known as a living room and dining room into an art studio with room for painting friends and giant snoring dogs. No problem!
My Intentional Creativity sister, Jenafer Joy, is offering a super simple, never made art before or want to make art again, collage class.
Seven lessons.
A stack of magazines.
It’s called Synthesis. Oh, and it’s free!
And you could do it with kids or friends or grandkids!
We’ve been a little stressed around here lately. And my Muse may have been feeling a bit left out.
The good news is, she seems to have decided to play again. And I suspect she is, at least in terms of creative process, something of a quilter!
It’s time for me to start a new painting. (Okay, a bit past time.) The official title for the painting is Our Lady of the Flowering Earth.
Somehow scraps of ideas that have been waiting for their turn in my mind seem to have begun to come together in the context of this painting. Here are a few:
My delight in my own garden, which is mostly herbs and veg surrounded by oak leaf hydrangeas and the ever essential roses.
Memories of Italy… especially ancient olive trees and fragrant rosemary cascading over rustic stone walls, both silvery-green.
And then, from the fabulous book, Braiding Sweetgrass, which I’m reading just now, a fascinating description of the indigenous tradition known as three sisters planting for corn and beans and squash.
A hint from the wise and talented Julie Steelman that we painting sisters could find great support in creating an abundance canvas.
Then, oddly, perhaps, an old hypnosis healing metaphor that has lived inside me for 20 years.
And an inspiration from another dear paint sister in terms of how to begin the form I imagine for this particular feminine figure.
All of which are coming together to make a painting that will be unique to this time and place, which is really exciting to me!
At the moment, it’s a very rough sketch, an intention, and a waiting canvas.
Somewhere down the road, it will join a growing collection of my work available online.
There are two possibilities for shopping.
The first is Fine Art America which is a great place to browse fabulous phone cases, stunning shower curtains, posters, and many intriguing things from tote bags to throw pillows. Also, the beasties adore their yoga mats!
And a thrilling new option… fine art marketplace which features extremely high-resolution, museum quality gallery-wrapped canvas prints and giclée works on amazing watercolor paper I just want to rub between my fingers. I have my very own page!
The process is fascinating, and blessedly local here in Atlanta. Barry and the wizards from digital arts studio use a rare scanning system to create a digital file of a painting and then, after extensive color matching, print the image using a 12-color archival ink process.
As I learn more, there will be more options from fine art marketplace, including stunning round occasional tables. It’s like Disney World for artists and art collectors!
They do custom, archival framing. There’s also an option to inquire about a collection of original works.
Shipping is, of course, available. And, for Atlanta friends, a chance to pick-up in person and dream a bit at digital arts studio.
I’m excited. The Muse seems to be, too! We hope you’ll wander by, find some inspiration, and perhaps comment on a favorite or two.
The art work shown above is a giclée of a commissioned painting titled Mamaw’s Farm on 18×24 inch heavy water color paper, hand signed and numbered. It’s available here, in several sizes and formats, unframed or custom framed.
