Art Friday: Free Printable Day!

One of the glorious (or not so glorious) side affects of having so much fun in the studio?

This happens:                                                         Of course, she wasn’t helping.

 

 

 

 

 

 

   I have a sort of love/hate relationship with the mess. On the one hand, eighty percent of what I make is from the leftovers from the project before that’s still laying across my desk. On the other hand, I’ve accidentally gotten partially dried paint on another project (usually in a really wrong color) that I’ve had to fix, and that is super-annoying. Then again, some of my biggest mistakes have turned out to be the coolest layers….like I said. Love/hate. Back when I was scrapbooking regularly, I had nearly half of a basement room to spread out in/on/over (about ten x eight, if I remember). Now, I’m limited to this corner of my bedroom, and a folding table. In many ways, I find it to be a good thing- I use and reuse and repurpose both art supplies and storage over and over and over again. The complete lack of storage space has really forced me to purge what I don’t absolutely love, and that in turn means that what I create already has a distilled style and all I have to do is make it shine! The important thing is to create, whatever your space availability. The rest is just gravy.

   I finally got my share feed back up in the sidebar, so I’m not putting my normal link love in the post today. If you’re reading in a reader, click on over! So much good stuff this week. If you bookmark stuff through de.licious, I’m memoria_arts.

   And, just ’cause I love ya, a free printable today. I’m really trying to resist the digital pull, because I really, really like the feel of paint and glue on my fingers, but, gosh. There are just some things that are way cooler in a digital palette! (The deets: personal use only. Please don’t use it for commercial gain.) Hope you enjoy!

Click here to download full size print—–>Read_Printable_share

Your turn! I want to see those messy desks! Writer’s desks, art-y desks. Homeschool desks, whatever ya got. Messy kitchens if you’re one of those cookin’ types. Show me where the magic happens for you!

Some Stitchy Fun…

Some of you who hang out on Facebook saw a little hand drawn piece I was working on earlier in the week. It was drawn to look like it had been embroidered:

I’m so excited to show you what it was for. I’ve enjoyed Ginny’s Yarn Along for a while, but I’ve never been a competent enough knitter to really participate. I’m always reading something, but I just couldn’t get a knitting project going! I am a much better sewist (when I can actually dig the sewing machine out from under the paint pots, that is), so I was delighted when Elizabeth told me she was starting needle and thREAD.  The idea is the same, but the project is different. Share a short description of a sewing project you are working on and the book you’re reading. (And actually, it’s not just sewing- embroidery, crewelwork- anything that involves pulling a needle through fabric.)

I’m bending the rules ever-so-slightly today, as my stitching was digital. I made the logo! So here it is, in my favorite color. (There are three others over here if you’d like a different one!)

needle and thREAD

I just finished re-reading Caring for Words In A Culture of Lies by Marylin Chandler McIntire. I picked this up a few years ago and read it, and was revisiting the ideas- she talks about how as Christians, and as writers (or anyone who moves within the public space with words: bloggers, poets, journalists, etc.), we have a calling to speak truth, and to safeguard it- to carefully choose how we are stewarding this gift of language. A good, good read. I can’t wait to get started on L.L. Barkat’s Rumors of Water: Thoughts on Creativity and Writing next. And since I’ve been up to my ears in digital stitches, I haven’t had a chance to take a picture of either of them, so here’s their lovely Amazon shots.

I have conquered…

The laundry.

Seriously, ya’ll.

My secret? Get rid of half your family’s clothes. (No, not really, but it might be a thought you should pursue. :D )

Don’t go running for the hills just yet, I’m only teasing! You can do this too.

I did start with a clothing purge, though. One of the blessings of being a large family is that there are always a lot of hand-me-downs. One of the curses of being a large family is that are always a lot of hand-me-downs. Laundry was really tormenting me most of the fall and well into January- I could just not.get.ahead. I felt like I was running five, six, loads a day and had dozens behind them. It’s hard to explain; it’s not like it’s called Mt. Washmore by so many mamas for nothing. In my 6 x 8 ft laundry room, the pile could easily stretch the length of one wall and be nearly 2 or 3 feet deep on a bad day, and the closets would still be decently populated with outfits to wear. Overwhelming. I’ve had this feeling for nigh on six years, and have tried multiple approaches.

I really did need to pare down. You might need to it to, or you might be comfortable with the amount of clothes you have cycling through your home at the moment. When I began the purge, I referenced the lovely Emily‘s list of clothes that she has been experimenting with. Her bywords: simple and quality. She explains it better than I; really, do go read.

I used to do laundry just about every day, sometimes multiple times a day. No more. With the level of clothing we have now, we’ll be forced to go by halves or underwear-less about every six days, which means I tend to do laundry about every third or fourth day. It is often Tuesdays and Fridays. Sometimes it shifts around.

The important thing is- don’t do laundry everyday. I swear that’s the single most cause for backup, procrastination, general malaise, and overwhelmedness that happens! We wouldn’t scrub the toilet all day, every day, would we? So why do we do that with the laundry?

The second important thing is- make the laundry space work for you. I am a huge fan of all those marvelous magazine laundry rooms, but let’s face it, most of us don’t have that. Some of us are even out in garages next to the car parts and hammers- usually not the most ideal situation. I am all for pretty, but I am even more excited about practical. When the two combine, it’s beautiful, but sometimes it just doesn’t.  And for crying out loud, if your current laundry room set up- even if magazine perfect- doesn’t work, change it!

What does this look like for me? All of our clothing is hung. We don’t have any dressers or the like; we do have plastic dishwasher buckets (cheapo at any bigbox store) that hold undies and socks. Which means- in my laundry room, I need a place to stage dirty laundry, a place to stage clean laundry, and a place to hang it. I have two average size laundry baskets and one tall one- in the beginning of the laundry process, the blue holds mostly darks, and the pink mostly lights, but as all my kids are under 9 years old, it’s a haphazard process. I’ll often straighten them out as I begin the laundry day. The tall one doesn’t come into play until later. I process thru the laundry day. Typically, that means just about six loads, give or take…usually the most of one morning. (Auntie Lelila has a whole series on laundry, of which this one is my favorite; truly a good place to start if you’re totally lost as to clothing care.) When the dry stuff comes out, I generally try to hang it as it comes out. (The laundry room is just off the school room- serendipitous, no?) If not, I make a very concerted effort to hang all the laundry from the day by the end of the night. Don’t let it float around the laundry room.  As I am hanging, the ironing goes in the tall basket, and it stays there until it just about overflows the top. Then, and only then, do I iron; typically about once every three or so weeks. I also make a very concerted effort to get the clothes back to their places by the end of the laundry day; this is often my oldest boy’s task.

The question you need to ask yourself is what you and your family needs. Folding space isn’t a big issue for me- the flat tops of my front load washer and dryer are plenty. I could see how a large family who folds most of their clothes would definitely need a larger folding space- maybe a cheapo folding table that comes out on laundry day- or, especially if you’re stuck in a garage, poor soul- a whole little area carved out with a hanging bar and the old ping pong table from the attic? It doesn’t have to be pretty, but it does have to work. I have a hanging bar that’s just about 3.5 feet long, and that’s just about enough to hang about half a typical laundry day’s worth of clothes; it forces me and my kids to keep it movin’.

But my real secret, honestly? You might not like it. And frankly, I’m sad to realize that it’s been the bane of my existence for six some years because I didn’t want to admit this, but here it is. Have discipline. Don’t go at the laundry by halves. Don’t walk away from it. Set a timer if you have to; tell your kids to annoy you about it till you do it. Deprive yourself of chocolate or whatever you have to do to mentally force the issue. It will really, really stink for like the first three weeks or so. It will feel overwhelming still. You’ll still hate doing the laundry. (Ask me how I know. Three weeks, five days, for me!) But suddenly, like any habit- it will begin to click. You’ll do it naturally and almost without thinking, and before long, Mt. Washmore will have disappeared. And if you need a big hooray and a boost from me each time you finish it, let me know! I’ll hoot and holler for you, because I know what a frustration it can be, and I know you can do this thing!

Your turn. Tell me. What do you do well when it comes to the laundry? What do you wish you could do better? What tips and tricks have you learned along the way? Make sure to mention them in the comments- perhaps someone else will find a solution they are looking for!

The re-entry…

When the curtains of quiet pulled down forty-plus days ago, I have to admit: I was scared. I’d never chosen such a complete reversal of everything-I-did to just sit silent and listen. And now I’m here, in the everything-I-am-now.

The strangest weaning was Facebook, after all. When I signed off, a friend of mine was awaiting a baby. Another was struggling with illness. Two days in, and I was begging for relief; I wanted to click that little blue box and know what was going on. It didn’t take me long to realize that I had been subbing Facebook interactions for real relationship. I picked up the phone and called the sick friend. I emailed and sent love to the pregnant friend. I wrote a lot of letters, emails, made connections. Connections I realized I hadn’t even quite realized I had dropped.  I only occasionally visited Twitter, mostly on Fridays, to share the link love and check in.

I Instagram-d like nobodies business. And in the process, I fell in love with social media again.  I remember what social media was always about for me: telling the story. The people I love to interact with online share the story from where they are at. Their art. Their kids. Their loves. Their triumphs. Their failures. Their faith. Their journey. And I remember what it was I loved about blogging- the combination of images and words, prose and poetry. The view from here.

I’ve come to realize that when I forget that there is a Story, and an Author, and that we’re  all characters in the mix of this amazing creation called human life, I lose the joy. You get tunnel vision, you know? Sometimes, it’s getting too focused on our own tragedies. Sometimes, it’s getting too sucked into a story that isn’t ours. Sometimes, (frankly), it’s reading stories we shouldn’t be reading. We know their poison, and we drink it down anyways. And that crowds out the things we should be living for, the chapter we’re supposed to be writing, the poem, the script, the book, the novel, with the Author and Creator of us.  That’s the beast hiding in the pretty bushes when it comes to working and writing and reading in an online world, and it’s as old as the centuries; there is an Enemy of our souls, and he’d rather drown us in overload. If it’s all noise, we can’t discern.

The here-I-am-now? The delight is back. I’ve spent nights in delicious sleep. Afternoons quiet, curled with a good book. (Ok, mentally quiet. In point of fact, the kiddo noise in the afternoon can be deafening!) I’ve just been me. Mother, wife, friend. Artist. Getting better cook. Leaning into the curl of his arm lover. Seeing the joy. Playing. Turning Scotch and Irish music waaay up, and dancing free. Loving my red-brown hair for the first time since it dawned after the pregnancy with Isaiah, nearly eight years ago. And the silvered grays that are peeking about in places… and paint. Paint on my fingers. Paper in my hair. On my cheek, where my beloved laughingly brushes it away when he comes in the door. Oh, I’m sure of the storm on the horizon, but I’m also sure and solid now, firm on the rock. Let them come. I’ve got a big God, and He’s writing my Story. It’ll be okay, even when it feels like it isn’t, and even when I can’t see it.

My birth-day may have been way back in September, but these last forty days have felt like a preparation and celebration of where God is going to take me in my third decade; I’m not scared anymore. In fact, I can’t wait to see what He’s calling me to next. He carried me through the craziness of the last few years, and I trust Him wherever He has planned next, even it’s back to the depths. It’s okay. I’m just going to dance.

Marriage Letters: On the Names I Call You

Dear James,

Lorelei was coloring on the sidewalk, rainbows bridging the edging and widening gaps in the pavement. I laughed to see her jump back and forth.

We’ve done that long now, haven’t we?

We’ve grabbed hands and jumped over the fracture, love interweaving the broken shards. We come from brokenness, you and I. It’s the haunt that wakes me in the night, it’s the legacy of family, it’s the emptiness that fills the room of houses that aren’t homes anymore,  it’s where bitterness and saddness crouch in corners. It claws at me, this loss, and you know it. And you call me loved. Beloved.

In the beginning, I called you every name in the book. I called you too-good-to-be-true. I called you delusional. I called you stupid; stupid to love me, stupid to love the mess I was in; just dumb. I’d always failed at everything. I called you you’re-just-going-to-leave-me-one-day when you realize just how broken I am. When you realized the legacy I had lived. Love had always left me. Love had always put conditional contracts on me. Most of the time, I broke those contracts.  All it lead to was more loss; a vicious cycle unbroken until you strong-armed the chains away.

But there were other names, names I couldn’t even dare to hope. To believe. I pushed you away so hard, dearest, and I swear, you just purposed to love me back in kind, measure for measure.

You call me beloved and I’m finally beginning to believe it.

I call you the harbor-in-the-storm. The father of six beautiful children, who bear the fruit of your faithful tending. I call you the prophet who speaks beauty into being where there used to be nothing but scattered weeds. You tell me I am whole, and I believe you. I call you kind. Compassionate. Grace and mercy walk with you. I call you a man of integrity- solid truth. Faithful. I call you hilarious, with your dry humor that you have to listen just-so-close to catch. I call you wise. I trust your lead on this journey.

I call you beloved, man among men.

Ana Dodi,

Angel

———-

Linking with SethJoyScott, and Amber as we hold our marriages up to the light. Call your marriage what it really is. Every Monday in April we’re writing letters because we believe that when we bless our own marriage, we bless the marriages of others.

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