nature references sold here

I'm inclined to long explainations. When I told my parents I was moving from the grace and loveliness of their rental home they've let me live in for the past year...I had a speech..the speech started to sound like a bunch of excuses tied together with a thread of guilt. But that isn't how I felt when I made my decision! Why was I letting it eap out this way? I had been an inactive mother too long, wanted to complete motherhood with as much awesomeness as I felt about the work/play itself. To let go of it by default was not going to be my mom legacy. That and because it is usually about me and the people around me get to reap benefits or suffer right along...I is about claiming space for dreams. My kid has his dreams to complete things in his goal list and I have my own list and need a space for it. A space that I can be myself..be messy..be down and dirty even. No..not running a whore house (although back in the day..I could have made a pretty penny) I had just been making myself small for a long while..don't notice me and what I'm doing..don't let me impose on you..ya, I know I have a lot of stuff..(why am I apologizing for my art supplies again? why is it ok to self depricate something I love and am proud of?) So, folks..I had an opportunity to claim the space I had ended my marriage in. That husband passed away but before he did..he left a legacy of inovation that I get to take advantage of. I am not without gratitude and reverence for the wall between living room and kitchen being replaced with a bar and grill (hey...ya..it's a bar and grill! still trying to think of a name..that will come in handy)I adore that type of living where you can encompass all of your entertaining in one room. The accoustics reaped from hardwoord floors and ceramic tile throughout the top level are not for everyeone..small children, noisy animals etc...but for musicians in my family? We should be so lucky. The first time I sang with my guitar in the living room was a joy. It might have been the wine..but pretty sure it was that I didn't feel I needed the microphone I had invested in at all. Having a bedroom already wildly painted and an art room next to it painted in specifics (think under the sea without the detail) might have been unapealing to some but by golly...if I'm not anything, I am adaptive...and I spent an entire sunday adapting and making my room my own with obnoxious flowers and words and color and swoops of joy. Ya..swoops!! As I left my former house with the last load to my new house, there was a butterfly on the driveway. It wouldn't move as I took pictures and pondered the significance. Even when I returned for what was really the last load..there it was. It was gone by the time I got in my car for the trip. So beautiful and kind of telling of what I wanted to do. The second nature reference was one of my favorite sayings....this going down the hallway to my bedroom and studio.. Here's some more of the nesting I'm doing

Serendipity happens

My Portland sister, Heidi was visiting my Seattle sister, Heather and took Heather's baby, Sofia for a walk. Minutes later I get a text from Heidi.."not to rub it in but look who I found!!!" and this picture. So very cool.

Happy Bre Day

I'd like to think this picture says it all but still want to share the moments leading up to meeting the baby girl I gave birth to 25 years ago. I found myself with a sad reason to get to Seattle where Breanna now lives. My little sister lives there and was beginning her first round of chemo/radiation and I wanted to be there for her...for us. This was not the meeting Bre and I had planned over the years of us knowing about each other and navigating slowly through a unique friendship. I also knew I could not go to Seattle without meeting her face to face. I sent her a message asking if we could just pop the face to face cherry and then have our longer fantasy visit at another time. I'm such a social backslider that it felt good to just make a plan. I kept the plan from my sisters who were doing the cancer vigil with our sister in Seattle until it was settled and as spontaneous and low key as possible. So one afternoon, I sent Bre a message through facebook (we had not exchanged phone numbers yet) and asked if this was a good time..that it was good for me..I knew she had the day off, I think..can't recall how it all came together but she would wait for me at a park. As luck would have it..a park seperated my sister and my daughter all these years. I was good kind of nervous and two of my sisters and my new neice joined me on a walk to meet Bre. The park would have been fine but one of us..maybe both of us suggested a bar with BEER. I loved how we kept agreeing with the plotting of this pivitol moment. This is my side of the story. I guess it's possible for Bre to tell it like I was the big bully making her do this and feel obligated to do that.. It did not feel this way. It felt like we knew each other a lifetime. I walked into the bar and there she was..prettier in life than the pictures I had studied and examined for the few years leading up to our meeting. She felt familiar. The hug felt like a blanket fresh out of the dryer. Staring and talking and staring some more. It was just us. No fanfare..none of the other players in our little drama..just naked as we came. When we decided to actually go to the park and leave the bar...I told the bartender who had not known why he was taking our picture. As if it was the most normal thing in the world..."that is my birth daughter..we just met after 25 years" I didn't even really wait for a response. Bre and I agreed that if we were to meet on a talk show, it would be Ellen..but that's all we really talked about as far as publicity. We talked more at the park and deciced to get food and go to her house. We needed a ride and so my sisters were called. Bre told me we will never get the chance to play this prank again so let's tell your sisters that the meeting isn't going well and I just need to be picked up. I am a terrible prangster but held the lie until my sisters got out of the car to tentatively meet the neice they had fallen in love with over facebook. When Bre and I started cracking up..the jig was up and hugs all around. Once at my girl's house with amazing pizza and gelato...we played guitar and sang. That is my biggest recognition. She has my voice. It gave me chills and I still havent watched the full video I made of her singing and playing for me. I met her boyfriend..her housemates..the dog. She is hippy spirit through and through and I just marveled at how she was living her life. Venturing into her backyard where she knew the name of plants, told little stories of her life I had not been part of. I continued to be happy about her family and how she was raised into this woman I would choose to be friends with. Quick smile, sparkling eyes, amazing brain. Beauty inside and out. And I'm not just saying this because we share blood. I am truly in awe. We exchanged numbers. We said our goodbyes with the promise of visits that included the people we love. And for now...we can continue to use social media and phones to keep to keep track of and get to know even more. In the end, I gained more than I lost. Knowing this girl made the lives of two people as happy as I've been raising kids...,Hell yes! I still feel pangs of loss that I didn't get a front row seat...but I am loving being in the joy of it now. Bre is my blessing.

Trees

A trip to Lake Powell when my youngest son, Baylee was still getting up to nurse in the night...I sat with him on the beach trying to feed away any crying he might do that would wake up the spring breakers we were camped by. Frustrated, sleepy, unable to get a grip on the why me?s...I had an epiphany that has carried me through 17 years of raising my last child. His dad begged me to name him Forrest. We chose Baylee collectively..(Bay being a water term his dad liked..Lee being my middle name and this was my last opportunity for that kind of nonsense)but Forrest was it for his dad. My agreeing to the name was just one of the givings in that were feeling piled on me..vacationing with babies..nursing into the night while the fisherman slept..blah blah blah. I felt sorry for myself a lot in those days. I remember looking down at a calm at last fed face of this beautiful boy..looking up at me like I was the most important person on earth and it occurred to me..I am not seeing the Forrest for the damn trees! From that moment on, I vowed to remember that raising this..my last chance at mothering..a blessing for us both. When Baylee (only his school teachers and friends call him Forrest) told me that he and are are closer than most mothers and sons he knows..I had to hide the tears and pride so he wouldn't think it was that big of a deal..learning early on that the bigger a deal I made of things my kids said..the more they would be squashed. "I suppose so", I offered. The drama that led to me leaving his dad (and him by default as I took his older brother who I saw suffered a poor relationship with his dad) is something I will save for another day. I will say that when Baylee joined us in my little Freedom House in Murray..I was overjoyed. It began a journey of motherhood moments I will forever remember. Even the times when Baylee became the parent..or tried..I will hold these memories in my heart forever. The short version here in pictures..I could write a book on what I have learned being the mother of a Forrest.

dorkiest boy in the cabin looking living space of our Murray house..the house across the street from kindred spirit, brother David.

ya..he got the biggest room..don't ask me why.

I hope he always keeps the mural his friends helped him paint in the driveway..a symbol of freedom and solidarity in my opinion..if I pass on the freedom to make your room how you want, I have done my job (well..the easy part anyway)

Baylee will hate me adding this picture of another art project..but damnit! it was FUN!!!!

speaking of fun..movie dates..can't have enough of them!

and when you miss the Murray house..remember being WEED NINJAS with Davey..ugh!!! every damn summer!!!!

Even after moving into a tiny place for me..and Baylee moving in with his dad..he still managed to visit..and I'm pretty sure it wasn't for the popscicles. I love you, Baylee.

Rest in peace

It's been three weeks and still sorting through the aftermath of death. I divorced my two youngest son's dad some five years ago. Stuffed all the leftover feelings in a box and put it to rest. Other than occassional irritation over simple things..I was in a pretty good place to live and let live with this man who had caused me considerable grief.
It's not all about me..but this is my blog and all...
I had written this mantra on my wrist the morning Mark died. Saw Let Love Rule as a tattoo and kind of sketched it out on myself to remember before I got the call from my youngest,  Baylee,  to come to the hospital.
I didn't know how well those words would serve me that day or in the coming weeks.
It's difficult to sort through years of grief from a living man and come up with a stance to pay respects to his grieving kids and family after he is gone.
But not impossible.
This I know.
There is more to say but I wanted to begin this for now.

kids and art

Not a lot of things better than making art with kids

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I have been spending some time this thanksgiving week thinking of all those in my path who have been something of a beacon. I feel so blessed and often unworthy of such love. I woke up earlier than usual this morning and got out my huge bag of journals and stuff that I save to put in the journals. This bag has been sitting for quite some time, so I don't know what possessed me..but am glad to have revisited some of the things in my world that have made me most happy and grateful.
Letters from my parents.
I have a mom and dad who have given to me more than just a great childhood. I have five sisters to share their love with and somehow feel special and like they are in tune with my needs ALL the time. The best thing about receiving gifts from these two is that there isn't a reciprocation clause. Yes, that is reserved for politicians as far as my family is concerned. Simple giving when one is able and when one needs it.
Letters from girlies.
and pictures.
When someone takes the time to make a picture or write out gratitude and love, it is remarkable to me. I never take it for granted and usually don't think there is anything attached to this except for communication of thanks. I miss the time spent with my locked up girls..such great memories and shared moments passed between some of the coolest girls I could know. Super blessed to know these bitches :)
ah...cards from my own kiddos.
there isn't a day that goes by that I am not grateful for my offspring. How did I get so lucky?
Each one growing up to be amazing adults..each with their own gifts. My life's greatest blessing.
As I type, my youngest is doing laundry and dishes and moving stuff for me. Not because it is his 16th birthday on Saturday and he wants something special, but because he has witnessed my shit week of being sick and being poor and being pathetic. And because he wants to be part of the solution. If he brings this girl home that he is meeting up with..after he shows her my artwork and proudly introduces her to me, I will tell her that I am the luckiest mom alive.
Friends who get me.
This includes my sisters...who I have thanked my parents for giving birth to my best friends over and over.
They are ones who know the song in my heart and sing it back to me when I forget.
This is for YOU GIRLS!