July 27, 2011

I live life on the verge of tears.


The good kind. 


I dont run around crying. I just carry that feeling around that things are really rich. That feeling you have when a chorus of kids sings. 

and you aren't going to actually cry. 

because that would look bad. I mean you aren't even related to the kids. 

but it is so beautiful.

And. being this inspired is what makes the art journey a must do. for me.

I mean, I walk to the market in the AM and get a coffee... and pass a woman with a blueberry smoothie walking her dog and I am inspired by her morning routine. and the quiet school parking lot. and the two older men who met to run this early. and at this hour...they can already laugh and carry on with not-so-quiet voices.

It doesn't take much to send me to a place of (almost) too many ideas.

Can you be too inspired?
I think not.

But you can live crazy close to slipping into tears.
(and that is a really beautiful place.)

Life is rich.

Of course. yes. life being rich isn't one giant coffee high at the beginning of a summer road trip.

Life is full of a lot of terrible.

A lot of pain.

And that is rich.

because terrible takes you to a real level. one that gives you killer perspective, empathy, and awareness.

see, rich is both.

terrible and amazing.

So near tears.


Right at the edge.

Because life is intense.
and, therefore,


(shout out to some friends in the middle of rich moments. really terriblyamazingly rich.) 

So, marching along,

like the musical director of the PS22 Chorus, people should care that much and be that passionate about what they love...


I think kids do.

      She seriously loves what she loves.                                                                           And I get that. 

So nannying for these two has been a joy.

 see. when you quit a full time job.

you pick up random jobs.

and here. you see.

we have a winner. 


I currently have 921083 projects going at once. 

It is the nature of making it work. and staying afloat. and staying on track... or as close to the track as possible. (See blog title. ha.)

Here's one project,

This is my fourth year as the camp's art director. 

hard to believe. 

but it looks something like this:

And this is where I am right now. 

In the mountains. 

eating vegetables straight from gardens. and ice cream from the local place down the street.
while babies walk barefoot and heat lightning echoes the lightning bugs.

so yes I was just in NY two weekends ago. but the mountains...the country really.. is another obsession.


And more projects: 

I have been doing a decent amount of invitations.

who knew?

Well,  I am obsessed with celebrations, so, in truth, this makes a lot of sense to me.

I'm a sucker for themes.


Another project:

Shameless plug.

Have you seen sweet Dodgson in his short film?

Oh you have? 

Share it with friends.


And during all of this I am lucky to be working on some collaboration projects. 

Some I will shout about later when they are more complete. 

or finished even.

But yes. So much going on.

And I can do it. 
there is fuel everywhere I look.


July 18, 2011

because if you can dream it up. you can ask "how" later.

Riding Bareback Beside a Train 

is about moving.

but not in the same way other people are moving.

not on the train.

not buying a ticket.

not reading a magazine.

not watching the blurred trees through a window.

but holding on as tight as I can.

it is about trying something different.

it is about sometimes making things harder than they need to be.

because it feels better. 
because it feels richer.

it is about wanting to be unique.

it is about wanting to run. 

it is about the thrill.

it is about making things happen 

even though I don't usually know HOW 

or IF

but I know I can.

and I know I will try.

because I feel moved. 

and inspired. 

So. finally.


I made it.

now I can go to sleep. 

But I may just stare at the ceiling and think, 

"how exciting."


July 14, 2011

summer errands


So I go to hardware stores a lot. 

and yeah. I am really annoying in how I react to people there. 
sometimes/ ok..most of the time. 

I think, ew. stop talking to me helpful workers, because I am trying to blend in here. I don't need assistance. and no, I am not 13. I am very capable.

( I KID YOU NOT. one time a man said, 
when passing me in the lumber section, 
"You're awful young to be buying lumber." I had no response. 
just something that looked like this smiley face thing-  : /  )

Now aside from one severely creepy individual, 

A lot of solid people helped me out. 

I think my favorite part this time was when I confidently sent 5 people away saying "I'm fine... thanks"

but really... the one-more-very-specific can of something I needed was pushed so far back in the display that I started looking for brooms or devices to climb back in the shelf with.

until one of the workers realized what was going on and came back with a pole to help me.

All I did when he came over was crack up. 

thank you, hero.


This time I had a really amazing guy help me cut 50 boards out of some OSB. 

Which is cheap. but in all honesty this guy should be the spokes person for OSB (which I told him)  because we talked forever about it. I felt like I was being taken seriously. which I appreciated. madly.

and he talked to me about how houses should all be made of this. it is extremely strong (despite all the bad raps particle-type board gets). and by the way it is NOT particle board. we certainly established that.

(ripping 50 boards takes longer than 3 seconds.)  

and the only picture I have of my trek is this: A stack of boards. happily in the truck.

Because the trip to the parking lot was miserable. 


I was laughing on the inside though and really wanted to take a picture of this. but literally could not manage it.

I shooed off everyone who asked if they could help me push my cart out. because it is my instant response in times like this..."no I'm good. thank you... no..  got it" It just jumps out. I don't have any control. and I am so mad at myself sometimes. because. 

sometimes I DONT have it.

Like sweat-pouring-down-walking-completely-parallel-to-the-ground-to-get-enough-force-to-propel-this cart-up-the-hill-in-the-blazing-sun dont have it. 

AHHghhhh.. it was 105 degrees. and I was almost as low as the pavement.

even when I got to the truck. drowning in sweat. this guy walks up.

I think... woah. he is going to help me put this in the truck bed and at this point, 

I am totally going to let him.

He says, "can you move your cart. this is my car right here and I need to back it out." 

Sure dude. I am panting.

I deserve that.


But when it is hot. I also know the right places to go.

and where I live is currently all things summer.

I can barely handle those flowers. 

and I inappropriately ask the herb man questions. 

just because when he shuffles through them the smells pour out everywhere.


and you don't have to tell me twice, "honey get your free popsicle."

not fake.

find the hilarious pot.

subtle brilliant people are my favorite.

and in the neighborhood market, where there are t shirts on the back wall,
there are also cooling cheddar biscuits.

right under them.


that someone has to eat.

and this smiling gem made my morning. behind the watermelons.

so on that note...


July 6, 2011

dance in the store. especially if your song is on. and other ways to appreciate the day.


There is a Lucky Charm-esque cereal out there doing business under the name 

Marshmallow Treasures. 

You need to be aware. 


Consumer alert: 
All of those marshmallows at the top. That's it.

They do not continue like that down to the bottom. 

I had 2 minutes of naive joy when I opened that box of gems.


I had to get that cereal because it was on mega sale and I was starving. 
and ate one third of the box on the way home.

( if I said "I ate half the box" it would have been a lie. so I told the exact truth) 

I am an artist. and sometimes I am starving...

and in a moment of weakness. ( or power. you decide) I did that.

strange how a marshmallow cereal can make me feel very alive. 


But it is a state of mind.

and when I walked past a copy of Peter Pan... I opened it. and adored the first page all over again.

 so many literary characters fascinate me and warm my heart.

soak this up:

All children, except one, grow up. They soon know that they will grow up, and the way Wendy knew was this. One day when she was two years old she was playing in a garden, and she plucked another flower and ran with it to her mother. I suppose she must have looked rather delightful, for Mrs. Darling put her hand to her heart and cried, "Oh, why can't you remain like this for ever!" This was all that passed between them on the subject, but henceforth Wendy knew that she must grow up. You always know after you are two. Two is the beginning of the end.

- Peter Pan
by J.M. Barrie


Time is fleeting.

And recently. I vowed to stop wishing for Fridays. Although today (Friday!)  is lovely. and will probably involve capers. or coffee. or some sort of outdoor lit patio. or all of the above.

And it will most definitely involve paint. and my studio. and a hardware store.

as I plan for a camp in the mountains later this month.

MAD Camp. (click here to see MAD flashbacks.)


and so, yesterday. I was acting on this new plan. which becomes a plan often. and I follow it until I realize I am wishing for the weekend. or wishing time away in general. 

ew. dislike.

but yesterday was fantastic.

because one of my songs came on in a store. and I danced. full out. with my 2 yr old accomplice that I nanny. while her 6 month old brother laughed and smiled. 

And we spent our day traipsing around town and stopping at every fountain. and screaming wooooooooo when we drove over the river. 


we were driving over the river.


 she points things out that are seriously worth getting excited about.


the song. was Lenka's THE SHOW
(click on the link. but do come back.)

which is screaming my motto.


it isn't always easy.
it takes effort.

like when I'm running sometimes and my mind starts to drift...maybe even worry. or overthink...

 I hear my feet 

and it suddenly feels harder to keep going. 
I realize I'm not absorbing the moment. 

so I drag my hand along the white brick walls and iron gates. and jump for low hanging leaves and branches. 

because if you touch it. you can't be anywhere else.

and I smell the backyard grills. or the coffee from the porch drinking society members. 

I spy something....green. seriously. holy cow.

or smile at the young girls who live across from the elementary school and are always up to something absolutely thrilling                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                  

They remind me of me. 

when I was 

creating entire bicycle cities in my backyard 
out of scraps of wood. limbs. leaves. trashcans. rakes. and whatever else was around.
complete with highways. bakeries and post offices. 

and working like a dog until dark.  with summer all over my skin.

They are too.


Hopefully forever.


i love music. almost more than everything.