Inspiration /wooden spoons /Motherhood

I took a break from blogging for awhile because if there is one thing that I am, it is inconsistent. I am constantly switching my passions- that is why I began to blog in the first place. I wanted to have a space to relay my dreams and desires with others and give myself a platform to write about my ideas. So since my last post in late October I have begun writing a book, making jewelry, painted some canvases, taken a fabulous trip with my kids and husband and started a hunt for the perfect vanagon. Yes- I am a little busy. Today is my first day back at home since the trip to Virginia with dear friends and I have washed the curtains, started post-vacation laundry, done quite a bit of Christmas decorating, made roll out Christmas cookies with the kids and iced them, did a decoupage project with 3 of the 4 kids, and it is only 2:30- at this rate maybe I will actually complete a project for myself.

I am mostly not very excited about domestic tasks such as cleaning, cooking, and child rearing. I prefer to work alone painting, writing, day dreaming etc...but hey, God gave me 4 children and a desire to homeschool that currently outweighs the desire to put them in school, so here I am fighting against the clock and trying desperately to carve out time to do what I want to do instead of what I HAVE to do. It is a losing battle. I love my kids and love to have them home with me, but I do get frustrated with the constant messes and the endless wants and needs and whining. I love Teddy Roosevelt's quote: "speak softly and carry a big stick" but I find myself often yelling loudly and carrying a big wooden spoon. Just being honest here...

I do most of my day dreaming at night now when I can hear myself think. I dream of spotless houses with large organized art studios and shiny new supplies for creating incredible works of art. But then I consider that my inspiration will have had to have flown the coop if those dreams were a reality. No children could live at this dream house and thus my art would be somewhat less fulfilling to me. Empty. And who knows if I could hope to be more inspired when I could day dream during the day- perhaps the silence would then be deafening and I could no longer hear the pure ring of inspiration in my ears.

So for now I must steal away to an art room with a few laundry baskets filled with folded size 4 star wars underpants, a rubber ducky that somehow made it from the tub and onto my sewing machine, a board book with tiny baby teeth marks where love for a story has made them want to literally consume it, and pages of journals of fabulous ideas just wait for the day to be created...

Someday when I actually hear myself think, I can start working on these things, but for now I will embrace the inspiration, all four of them.

Genes and Dreams

photo by plecojan

Have you ever wondered whether genetics play a role in your career path or talents? Would Lisa Marie Presley have been a singer if her daddy wasn't The King of rock and roll? Bob Dylan and his son...Miley Cyrus and Billy Ray? The Kennedy's and politics? The Judd's? Would Meredith Grey have pursued a career in surgery if her mom were not a famous Doctor? Okay - the last one is stretching it being that it is fiction- but you get the jist.

I tend to think that the answer is no becuase Billy Ray is Billy Ray and Lisa Marie can't even compare with Elvis. But to be truly excellent at something becasue of a genetic predisposition is a pleasant thought. Can you imagine saying, "I can't help it that I am such an excellent ____."? If this is true, Michaels Phelps' children will probably win 10 gold medals someday.

I love the movie Immortal Beloved about Beethoven. In it, he decides for his nephew, (who ends up being his own child) that he will be a famous pianist and composer just like himself. As his guardian, he makes the child study day and night. Beethoven is of course very deaf and cannot hear how absolutely terrible his son/nephew is at the piano. He has none of the gifting that his father/uncle is blessed with. But he is Beethoven's son/nephew and so much is expected.

Are we inclined by nature to be pretty good at the things that our parents thrive in? Do we share common gifts and goals because of the gene pool and life cicumstances? My aunt was reading my blog and shared with me that my great grandmother was a writer. She woke daily at 5 am to write because she HAD to write. Her children (8 of them I think) would consume the rest of her day and so she carved out a dawn time ritual that let her enjoy her craft, hobby, what have you.

I loved finding out this tid-bit of info because it encouraged me to press on. To write because I love the process. To have time to myself that is actually for just me. I would like to think that I shall have the same gift that Elizabeth Riley did many years ago. She did write a book of poetry and I would love to get my hands on it. I love that perhaps the gene pool will give me a chance at writing because of her. I did get this random head of red hair from someone in my ancestry, perhaps I will flourish because of a little science.

Opinions on this are welcomed.

Being Relevant WHILE Being Faithful

photo: rio de gente - people river by z e n g a

I want to be relevant.
I want to read books that keep me aware and informed.
I want to help causes that need my help.
I don't want to put on lenses of prudish, pious, puritanical protection from the outside.
I want to see the job that needs to be done and then actually do it.
I want to be able to walk into a bar, a shop, a club, a market, a carnival, a festival, a church and be in the right place. Not be a sore thumb, not be a snob, not be a freak, or a self-righteous show-off.
I want to be calm in places that make my heart beat fast, and not too comfortable in places that seem like home.
I want to feel the itch that pain is near and I could possibly be the balm.
I want to see humanity with a simple scope and clear hope.
I want to walk with a plan and yet let the plan fall to the wayside if the moment craves some spontaneity.

I want to be faithful.
I want to read the only Book that truly matters.
I want to be the good Samaritan and a Friend that helps to set the captives free.
I am a Mary Magdalene. I want to know her heart and feel her passion.
I want to focus on the man who comes riding on a white charger and not let my gaze be moved.
I want to walk into any place at all, any country at all, and know that I do not belong and I won't belong, because I am from another world and speak another language.
I want to be wise, loving, thoughtful and considerate.
I want to see humanity, my brothers and my sisters in and outside of this chasm of created order, with eyes that heal, and hands that help, and a heart that bleeds truth from the Faithful One.

A Long Lost Friend

photo: vintage by cagedbirdy

Sometimes you meet someone and you know that you are kindred spirits. There is just some connection that goes beyond the basic, "I like Pearl Jam." "Me too! OMG!"

I have been blessed to have many people throughout my life that I had the chance to recognize this connection with. One such friend however, has been long ago lost from my communication reach. She is probably one of the most free-spirited people I have ever known and so it makes sense that she has left my radar.

God had put us literally in each other's backyard. Our parents' houses were connected by a large span of grass that became a perfect meet-up place for two teenage girls who could not yet drive.

We both loved to read and write. We both have red hair. Eat entire cans of black olives. Anne of Green Gables marathons. Listening to music by candlelight and the list goes on. The quirky thing that took a little warming up to find out was that we both coveted long white nightgowns. Maybe we thought we were Jo March. Perhaps we wanted to connect to the bygone years when the white nightgown was the only acceptable night clothing around. When we had sleepovers we took out our long white nightgowns and pranced around the backyard in the middle of the night. I don't think anyone suspected.

I still own an entire drawer filled with beautiful white nightgowns. My mother even brought one back from Germany for me. She found it at an antique flea market. It is actually old and thus authentic! Most teenagers I knew at the time, wore long t- shirts with baggy thin pajama pants to bed. They even wore semi-sexy camisoles with boy underwear /shorts. But not us- "Clary Mama" and I donned the nightgowns with innocent glee. We lit candles and played pretty music and talked about interesting things and read poetry aloud. Sometimes our own and sometimes not. But we both have husbands now and I wear random things to bed.

I just noticed while typing this that I am wearing a white nightgown. It was given to me by my dad and stepmother a few years back. It is from April Cornell and is just beautiful. I love it because it makes me remember and I am in a remembering mood.

Hopefully somewhere out there, my long lost red headed friend is remembering too and will send out her radar. Perhaps we shall meet again, dressed like Victorian ghosts at midnight in the backyard someday.

Scattered

Sometimes I feel scattered. I know that there are so many avenues I can pursue and most likely meet a successful end. I have faith that whatever I want to do, can prosper because one thing always leads to another and good always comes to those who trust in Him.

This is not just about "God's will" and "God's plan"- this is how we must live the Christian life. This is also not an "I can conquer the world and do whatever I want" way of life either.
It is about trusting. It is about "do not be anxious about your life" mantras.

I am anxious. I never thought that I would still be in the same place I have always lived. I thought that I would be gone after high school. Then I would be gone after college. Be gone after we had a baby, two babies, 3,4....and yet here we are.

I fell into love at 16 and never came up out of that ocean. We almost went away from each other at college...but we could not do it. After college, he started working and had to travel...we could not take it...I felt more alone and depressed with 3 small ones and a city full of relatives than I ever thought a person could. All of my friends who had traveling husbands said, "but you don't have to cook or clean when he is away" or "I can do whatever I want when he is gone" or "the kids are on a better schedule" blah blah blah...

I hated seeing him go from the minute he told me that next week he had to go away for a couple of days, until the minute he set foot in the door on his return. We have been married for 7 years, and together for 11. It feels like both a day and an eternity. He truly is my beloved.

So now he seldom travels away, unless like a caravan, we are all together. We have always adored the American road trip. Eating random roadside fare like bison jerky (from Colorado) and peach soda (from Georgia) and crab bisque (from Maryland). We crank up the music and dream together...lyrics to classic rock, grunge, pop, and bluegrass filling up our senses and giving us prospective.

The kids sometime rock out along the way, or whine, or poke at each other, but more often they look out at our beautiful country and join in the wondering and dreaming. Because we homeschool, the traveling life could be a reality for us. Use the whole country as a textbook, right? But man cannot live on gas alone- we need to work and provide for a quality life.

I have at least 6 ideas of how to do this, but when do we take the leap? We want to have a little bit of land to grow some food. We need a little house to lay our heads and wash up. We need a big enough vehicle to seat 6 people. We need to be together all the time. Some do not have these needs, but we do.

We are waiting for the circumstances to present themselves. We are hoping that we will able to sell our house in Florida. We may need to take a jump some day and close our eyes and pray it works out...we need this for us.

Feeding The Lake

photo by jennysweedler

The "Feeding the Lake" philosophy is why I named my blog "everybody gets prizes"...

Madeleine L'Engle in her book, Walking on Water- reflections on faith and art, made me realize something about myself as a writer and an artist, that has given me new perspective and fresh ideas.

Humanity is like a large mass of creative energy that longs to express itself in many diverse ways. As we begin to set our impulses free, we feed the lake, or pour into human culture and society for the good of it. Some of us are Michelangelos, Beethovens, Shakespeares etc. while most others are regular people with regular to zero acclaim. (Van Gogh was almost one of those.) What we all do is feed the lake, regardless of our popularity. As long as you express yourself and pour yourself fully into this work, you will find faith at the end of it. You will find Him in this desire to create, as we are created.

The best part of Being a part of this created process is that we all get prizes.

Prize: We get the chance to create and feel what it is like to birth something and have it validated by others perhaps. Before the Earth was formed it was a shapeless mass and before Michelangelo painted the Sistine Chapel, the ceiling was bare. There is always the before and after with the creative process.

Prize: We get life and the opportunity to give it to others through having children, adopting, encouraging, enriching a life in countless ways etc...
I want to be an inspiration to my children and to others that they are made for the purpose of using gifts and abilities. I don't want to hinder others by discouraging them from pusuing a passionate life and following dreams.

Prize: A Heavenly home- the epitome of desire for of all those who are created in His image and for His glory. We want this deeply and so our work and our way of life will reflect this.

If Heaven is not one of the prizes you long for, then perhaps you are not aware of who you are and why you are here. Ask and it shall be given- Seek and you shall find...when that door opens everybody gets prizes.

West Virginia- Mountain Mama

I am not a very political kinda lady. I like to think about the issues, discuss them with friends and family, and maybe even form a strong opinion now and again (beware the absolutes). But over the last few days I have become aware of a travesty that has gone without discussion in the political arena.

Last month, my husband and I were looking all over the Internet for our future homestead. (More on our dream later) After a massive search yielding little in our price range, we found a seeming diamond in the rough. A Victorian farmhouse from the late 1800's with 14 rolling acres in a cute town in West Virginia. The best part is that it was CHEAP!

I called my fellow blogger and best friend over at mama goes green and she said- "Oh Lindsay, that is beautiful now, but not for long. By the way, it is not safe to live there." I was shocked that there could be ghettos or crime rates higher there than in my metro area in Florida. But of course that was not what she was saying. She was referring to this largely covered up issue of MOUNTAINTOP REMOVAL.

Mountaintop removal is a radical form of coal mining in which entire mountains are literally blown up -- and it is happening here in America on a scale that is almost unimaginable.
Mountaintop removal is devastating hundreds of square miles of Appalachia; polluting the headwaters of rivers that provide drinking water to millions of Americans; and destroying a distinctly American culture that has endured for generations. (taken from ilovemountains.org)

If you check out you tube you will see so many heartbreaking videos of deaths, suffering and destruction due to the problem of mountaintop removal. I do feel angered by the fact that our mountains and our people, American people, are being forced to comply with these injustices.

This situation reminds me of Hurricane Katrina. There were people who were suffering and everyone was turning a deaf ear. Entire communities were devastated and an eerie silence followed because, poverty and race kept them from a platform to have a strong voice. The difference is that Katrina was a NATURAL disaster, while mountaintop removal for the purpose of cheap and easy energy, is a PREVENTABLE disaster.

It does not have to happen. A 3 year old does not have to die because a boulder rolls onto him as he sleeps. 15 year olds do not have to drown because of flooding in the valleys that normally had creeks and springs. And we do not have to blow up mountains to get at the coal. We don't even need coal if we use alternative forms of energy.

"Clean coal: Never was there an oxymoron more insidious, or more dangerous to our public health. Invoked as often by the Democratic presidential candidates as by the Republicans and by liberals and conservatives alike, this slogan has blindsided any meaningful progress toward a sustainable energy policy". (Jeff Biggers from the Washington Post penned this statement.)

When we buy our future home and land, we may not have an Appalachian mountain dream after all. We may have to plant our roots elsewhere for our own safety. This is not only disturbing, it is appalling and my rights have been limited once again.

The Country Drive

For two people deeply in love, anytime spent together is satisfying and yet also painful. Painful? Yes. We know that this time together is temporary and so we attempt to forget time altogether and sink fully into the moment. This of course is impossible because the sun eventually goes down, bodies need to be nourished and fatigue lingers closely behind us. This human form is not eternal and so we must take "time" to enjoy each other inside of this Earthly clockwork.

If you ask me how I do this, I would tell you that some conditions for this enjoyment are as follows: a sunny or partly overcast day, a car or truck but preferably an old VW bus, music by ipod, radio, tape, etc., windows that roll down, and my husband. In the sweet youth of our love, we also threw in a bag of Baked Lays and a bottle of Fruitopia. Those last condition no longer apply because Fruitopia no longer exists and we are older now and cannot eat an entire bag of chips without suffering for it later. (We replaced the chips with Hot boiled peanuts(a southern classic) and the occasional Slurpee or Gatorade.)

T. S. Eliot wrote "April is the cruelest month" and I shall add to that: "Sunday is the cruelest day". I attend church with my family, contemplate the sacrifice made on my behalf, share in the communion with brothers and sisters and sing the hymns with joy and thankfulness. This is a blessing and so it would seem that Sunday is the most Glorious of days. But that is just not the reality of it for me.

I bustle through my week with homeschooling, schedules, soccer, gymnastics, meetings, church studies, parties etc...By the time Friday evening comes, I am exhausted, and I want my husband back from work. His job is stressful and not always fulfilling. We have dreams and we have plans and they are not a part of of our daily life. So on the weekend we detox from our weekly drugs that keep us plugged in and engaged in the present. We sleep later, we read deeply, we eat at random times, we get dirty, we nap longer and we listen to a lot of music in the background.

Come Sunday, I want to fellowship with other people not on our planet. So when we go to church, we do just that. Then we pack ourselves back into our van and go home. I feel sick the whole way. I hate that the hamster wheel will start again in less than 24 hours.

So, I propose a country drive. What you love to do does not have to change just because you have 4 kids bouncing around in the backseat. We are all cowboys at heart. We want to explore and find a treasure like Cortes and chocolate. I feel that this desire is truly Human. God said "Go and take dominion" and while it may be a bit out of context here, I do not think He meant to stay just outside the Garden gate and set up camp for all time.

So, we set off, GPS ready, to get lost in the country. And a Discovery was made and what we found was something overwhelming. Not in an incredible mountain view way, or a munchkin land kind of thing. But for my husband it was like God saying to us, I love you, I know you and I know what you love and desire. This may sound silly, but what we found was breathtaking in a rusty, dilapidated sort of way. We discovered 2 (maybe more) acres of land absolutely covered in-------.

Always Late

photo by try-whistling-this

Here I am. Finally entering this vast domain.

I am always late with electronics/technology. For Example-In 3rd grade I got a red WalkMan for Christmas with an Arrested Development tape. I was so pumped about that and then, just when I had finished reading the instructions, CD players came out and I refused to learn the new technology and thus carried that red tape "deck" into my middle school years (not cool).

Nevertheless, high school made popular the "mixed tape" and I was "in" all over again. I had stacks of mixed tapes and still have many of them in a box somewhere. If you got in my momivan right now you would see tapes- (yes, my "wheels" sport a tape player AND a CD player- which I rarely use.)

Fast forward from high school and enter college with me...I learned how to email in my junior year by FORCE in the campus computer lab. I had no plans to ever do the email thing and then, after 5 semesters of college bliss, a single syllabus REQUIRED it. I was so scared I would fail and so I caved and after the 6th week of skating by on open forums, the professor escorted me to the lab and got me set up. Just to show a little rebellion, I picked a boring name, my own, not something cute and clever, and of course the Prof. could care less. But that is how I dig my heels in...I try and not get crafty.

But as you will see as I blog more, that hurts only me and no one else. So here I am forcing myself to face these technological demons and blog myself into the cosmos. I still need to figure out the picture thing and get some pretties on here and set up some housekeeping, but in the meantime, I want to share what is wandering around in my heart, brain, life and of course my home and hopefully get some creative discussion going!