Saturday, December 25, 2010
Home for Christmas
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Expectations
This is the Season of Expectations. We are all waiting for something. We wait for the season to start and once it gets too hectic, for it to be over. Children expect Santa to bring them the items on their list on Christmas morning. Parents expect their children to dance with joy and love their gifts. The merchants expect this seasons profits to keep them solvent for the months to come. Mothers expect Hallmark moments around the family gathering dinner table with picture perfect food and design. We all have expectations of just how this season should play out.... the best ever, perfect, appreciated, loved, and paid for. I loath expectations, personally. I have been know for avoiding people and the expectations that relationships bring. Even friendships are a little treacherous for me. I fear I will not be able to live up to other's expectations or demands and somehow let them down. This season brings people and relatives a little too close for my comfort level. I wonder if Mary needed some personal space and quiet time away from angels singing, shepherds standing around, and foreign men bringing gifts, that she had no idea what to do with?
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Where Artists Go
This is a copy of a photo that Kate did for the opening of the IWU gallery. It was the first piece the gallery sold. She has a name for it, which I can't recall. I think it should be labeled "Leap of Faith". It also reflects the place where artists live... in between. It is a place of neither here nor there, then or now. It is a peaceful place of "1/2 way" where the mind can relax, to listen and create, to let what needs to, come out. When my children were little, and I was the last to come upstairs to bed, I would love to sit on the stairs, just 1/2 way up.... thinking of the day. It was a place of nowhere.... a place of the moment. Our cat would sit with me, waiting.... in the "in between'".
Why aren't they smiling?
My Mother is one of 11 children. She is the girl standing next to her Father, to his left. She is not smiling. Not many are smiling in this photo. The story behind this picture contains a dark secret that no one wants to talk about. My Mother saw something, that happened to a child who is not in this picture. He has no grave marker, nor record of his death. It is like he vanished.
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