Athena Dreams Design

December Views .:. Day 10 New Paintings

Flying in Spite of Everything

Searching for a Garden in Venice

The Gift of an Hour

Many people's favourite day is June 21st, the longest day of light, or Thanksgiving when family and friends gather, or their birthday (oh, that's one of my faves too) or any number of other holidays or special moment kind of days, but I have to say that my favourite all around good-times day is the first day after the clocks have been turned back in the fall. I mean, a whole hour, for free. 

I hear myself and others say all the time that they wish there were more hours in a day, we need more time, more days in a week. The plea is always for: More. Time. So, this one day when we are gifted with an extra hour is just the best of all worlds for me.

When I was a kid, I would get up and rearrange my room. No kidding. Actually rearranging my room was a once or twice a month routine for me, but on this longest-of-hours-in-a-day day, it always felt like the perfect activity to start the day off. I don't remember exactly what else would fill my favourite day, probably some reading and some drawing, and playing with friends, I mostly remember that rearranging the room was the highlight.

So every year on this day, I awaken and think, what will I do with my longest day?

This year, I painted. All day. Painted joyously, all the day long and into the early arrival of evening. 

I know for many, it is the start of the darker and shorter days, and there are feelings of dread and sadness about the dark. Dusk seems to fall so very much earlier, and it is the pronouncement that summer is certainly over now. But that hour, that wonderful gift of an hour, still fills me with pure joy. 

Now, the dark, yes, sometimes the dark does get to me. But the dark of winter for me is that time to pull in, take stock, make lists and review. During all the sun and heat filled days, I find it hard to pull in and focus, there is too much to do, and the trails call to me, and the long light filled evenings are about gathering and playing and talking and experiencing. In the winter I get to experience more deeply, more closely, what is going on inside. 

And so I wonder... what did you all do with your gift of an hour this year? 

Finding New Homes .:. a Seasonal Give-Away

I have a problem. 

I hold onto too much stuff.

I get down to a certain level of excavating, and can't bare to throw some things away. 

So, in the spirit of my favourite season.

In the spirit of the autumn winds

blowing things around,

I would like to give away some holiday cards.

 

The 3 above are Holiday Botanicals 

The 5 above are Holiday Mandalas (or Whirls & Swirls) and have gold or silver foiling on them

These are cards that I designed for a local stationery company, and I have had the artist sample boxes on my shelves for about 2 years now. They need to find homes where they will be used - written on and sent out to friends and families with cheery salutations of the season. I have 8 designs and each box is filled with one card design. (I actually did send out a bunch, but I always want different ones to send each year, and so they sit, sad and lonely).

SO, here's the deal, 

leave me a comment 

if you want some holiday cards, 

for the holiday season. 

That's it. 

Just leave a comment saying you want some cards. 

If you have a fave: colour or image, say so, 

but just so no one is disappointed

I can't guarantee you'll get exactly the one you mention.

Thanks!

Beads on a Windowsill

Often times in the midst of cleaning/rearranging/purging I get distracted . . .  Today it was the sun starting to make its descent in the sky, and it showed to me some beads on my windowsill. 

They have been there for longer than I can remember, and somehow, it is the first time I have seen them, like this. Glowing. Happy. Shining.

Makes me wish that we could all catch a glimpse of ourselves, at a moment when we least expect it, and feel: Glowing. Happy. Shining. Perfect in our own beauty.

Painting with the Rain

It is 8pm on Friday night, there is rain pitter pattering outside, I am in my studio painting (where I have been all day long) and I just looked up and said to myself, "this: now this, is a perfect moment." Husband is out playing a gig, rain is falling, the house is totally silent except for the rain, and the sound of my brush swooshing, or the sound of my pen scratching, oh and then there is the sound of my voice, talking to myself.

We haven't had real rain here since near the end of February, the skies dried up early last winter, and I have been awaiting the return of cloudy skies and rainy days and rainy nights for quite a long long time. And I have not let myself have a whole entire day, and now an evening, in the studio creating, in longer than I can remember.

So the rain and I are having a little reunion of sorts: it is falling and I am painting. Oh some days, some days, are just so very good.

5 Wonder-fully Musical Things . . .

A big part of my life is spent in my little studio, and a good part of the time that I am here, there is music playing. I will be the first to admit (read: confess) that I get a little obsessive about my play lists. I find a new album, or a new artist that I love, and it's all I want to hear. Anyone else do that?

My ears only want that one voice, those certain wonderful melodies, that awesome sound that creates the soundtrack for my studio for weeks at a time. And then I'm done. Done with that wonderful. magical sound for a long time, and on to new ones. . . 

Holly over at Decor8 recently posted a list of what she was listening to and asked readers to comment or post links back to what they were listening to: kind of a Musical Share, if you will. And so in that spirit: here is a list of what I am currently loving to hear, would LOVE to know what you all are listening to, maybe there is something else I should be obsessing over and don't even know it yet...

Omar Sosa: Free Roots  amazing CubanLatin jazz, love him!

Erin Corday's Secret About the World is  like a life story all in one CD . . .  I pulled this CD out a few months ago after not hearing it for years, and now it on constant shuffle.

Jesca Hoop: Kismet

Tom Waits says: "Her music is like going swimming in a lake at night." Mmmm Hmmm

Tina Malia: The Silent Awakening 

a gorgeous voice

and finally, my latest Jonatha musical obsession/love

The Works her musical collaboration with Woody Guthrie.

SO, now, if you feel so moved to share your current musical loves, I would love to know what you're listening to in your studio : on your iPod : in your car : and on your computer!

An Enchanted Escapade

Before departing for my own enchanting escapade to the wilds of NH, I have put a new print in my Etsy Shop, just in time for the unveiling of the new Indie Fixx Galleria.  I am so incredibly pleased and happy to have been accepted into the Galleria for the month of September: the new Galleria goes live tomorrow, and there will be a bunch of new artists/crafters/photographers and who knows who else featured, so go on by and take a look at what Jen has assembled.

Jen Wallace, the force behind the Indie Fixx Blog, Galleria and Shop, features and supports artists who work in a myriad of different genres, and styles, and she stays ever so true to the artistic/indie spirit. In her own words: "Indie Fixx is a celebration of the creativity, tenacity, and general spunky goodness that is the indie design movement."    (love that!)

For information on how to apply to be included in Jen's Galleria, go a-visiting here.

A Whirl of A Week: A Precursor to the Whirlwind

So, this is my pre-whirlwind week, before the real Whirlwind of a week. Yesterday I discovered that my plane departs for parts northeast on Friday morning, not on Saturday, and wow that kind of just changed everything in less than a heartbeat, and a loud gulp (a big thank you to sacred sister-in-law for reminding me what my true itinerary is). I am leaving THIS Friday morning... yikes.

• What shoes do I need? and the more important, what shoes do I want with me?
• Do I really want to take a raincoat, and as Kelly has already said, do I even own a raincoat? [I looked, and in fact, don't seem to own one.]  
• Do I pack my paint in my suitcase, only to have it explode?
• Do I have enough electronic devises and chargers to stuff in my bag? 
• How will THIS trip be with my family? 
• Should I ditch the rental car, or keep it as a possible escape hatch? 
• Will my head blow off if I continue to sleep only 4 hours a night and wake up to add more things to my to-do list?
• Will my head blow off regardless of how much sleep I get? 
• Will I meltdown somewhere tremendously inappropriate, at some point along this travelling odyssey?
• Will I ever run out of "Don't Forget To's" to add to my list?
• And if I bring only 2 pairs of shoes, which ones will they be?

First stop on the whirlwind express is NH, and a visit with one of my brothers and his family, and I get to meet my new-est niece for the first time in her little life - so looking forward to that... and catch up with my ever so grown up nephew, who is soon to be 5.

She's a bit bigger than this now, but how precious is that little face... 

And then down to Boston to surprise my mother on her birthday... I think all the siblings have managed to keep their mouths shut, an all time first for my family, and she has absolutely no idea I am coming (I hope). Regardless, though, I have not celebrated a birthday with my mother [in person] since sometime in the 80s, and it something I am so looking forward to doing with her this year. 

Here she is, a 20-something, riding tricycles with me and my brothers... and look, I don't seem quite as concerned about shoes at this age...

And then, it's back to my brother's in NH, visits with cousins and whoever else I can fit in, and soon after a drive further north to Squam.

How is that a week I have been looking forward to for quite a few months is arriving so quickly? How does time do that? How do we move through time, sometimes so oblivious to its passing, and then look up and find a precious moment has arrived, and now is a memory? It remains a deep and sure mystery to me...

And then, as if I weren't distracted enough already, THE book arrived on my doorstep today. Oh happy moments, oh sparkly thoughts, oh, to sit down and commune with this wonder of a book, in between adding things to my to-do list.

Staying on track (a little), staying on course (not at all), and running around the house all day in my jammies (not yelling Squam, but my hair was sure sticking up), designing something, jumping up to go through my travel shampoo and etc's supply, sitting down to design, jumping up to answer the phone, sitting down to gather the thoughts, and jumping up to see if my favourite skirt is clean or if I need to wash it, sitting down again, to unsuccessfully gather the thoughts, jumping up again (I need lunch!). OK, sitting down again and not even attempting to gather anything, just throwing together some random thoughts, some random images, and some earthly distractions.

Here goes nothing, as they say... and also, lest we forget, and since my nephew is very fond of quoting, I really can't forget: "let the rumpus begin"!

Trusting My Own Voice .:. on a Sacred Sunday

Just past nine on a foggy morning Sunday in August: waking to a friendly and very loud blue jay squawking outside my bedroom window, waking alone, and feeling all the space in the bed, feeling my own heartbeat, feeling my legs against the soft comforter cover, realising I am sleeping right in the center of the bed - I need make room for no one but myself.

It's been a week plus of days and nights of my own space. He's been on the road playing music, his life's work. As it got closer to his leaving I felt sad, that little girl sad, that homesick in the pit of my stomach sad: because as funny and strange as it seems, in the 13 years of together, we had never spent more than one night apart. New territory. For both of us.

A few days into this separate-ness, each of us in our own lives, I was so filled with joy. A happy and content and excited joy, all at the same time. It was just me, just my voice in my head, just my needs to be met, just my thoughts to think and be aware of, just me. I have always been quite content to have it be just me, myself and I: my mother often talks about being amazed that even at 4 or 5 months old, I could amuse myself for hours, no need for her to play, or entertain, or keep me company. That has never changed. 

And yet, when you partner with another, there is so much that needs to be shared, communicated, supported, acted on, worked out, balanced. In this space apart, I can clearly see where I constantly stretch myself past the balance point. Where so much of my time is taken up with him: his needs, his feelings, his path in this life. Where my own needs, feelings, and path sometimes take a back seat to his, sometimes I put them on hold. 

As the time has passed in the last few days I started feeling like I wanted him to be gone longer, that he could stay away for another week, even two. That I needed more time with the me, myself and I triumvirate, that I should have more solitude, more time. That sad and homesick little girl, the one who didn't want him to leave, was now mad at him for coming home. 

If I am completely truthful with myself, I know that I need to learn to take the time I need when he is home. Truthfully, I have to put myself first when I need it that way, I need to speak up and say what I need, I need to take that responsibility. 

He arrives home later this afternoon, he called from the airport in Chicago this morning, and I felt happy. Happy that he is getting on a plane and coming home, happy that I felt joyful about his return, happy that I had this space and time to learn a few more important truths about who I am with myself, and in this relationship. Speaking up about what I need in the moment, from him, and from myself, trusting my own voice, just my own voice, and knowing that speaking the truth of my own voice, my own thoughts and feelings, is just the right balance I need to find: whether high up in the air, or feet on the ground, joyful or confused, alone or together, together or alone. 

Practice. It seems this whole life is about practice, and rhythm, and more practice, oh! and trusting that voice inside me, that voice that has always spoken a clear and heartfelt truth, that voice that has never let me down (tho I have let myself down on those few occasions when I didn't listen), that voice who knows who I am, that voice who is me.

A New Moment on an Ordinary Wednesday Morning

On a wednesday morning, early in the studio, I take a look around to see what my world is made up of these days. I notice many things in process, unfinished, being contemplated, in flux, in planning stages, sketches. 

And instead of seeing things not done, not finished, I am trying on some new eyes, just for size, and looking at all these pieces as possibilities, things that will be, ideas that are being born.

It is all a matter of perspective I think, all a matter of looking at the positive, at the process, the flow.

Twyla Tharp in her book The Creative Habit talks about ritual, pattern and repetitive memory to tame and quiet the fears and the self-doubts and the ugly, awful voices in [my] head. And so this is a change in ritual for me. To see the unfinished as potential instead of seeing it as things I have not finished, plans I have fallen short of, ideas that have not bloomed with the fruition I had hoped for, projects that have [gulp] failed.

"When you have selected the environment that works for you, developed the start-up ritual that impels you forward every day, face down your fears, and put your distractions in their proper place, you have cleared the first hurdle. You have begun to prepare to begin." -Twyla Tharp

And so, I begin with developing a new Start the Day Ritual: looking at what is ready to burst forth, what is wanting to lay still, and thus, prepare to begin, and see my days, my work, and my life with these new eyes of mine: looking for the positives, stepping up to take my place at my painting table and begin this new day, this new ritual of creation.

Wish me luck, as I wander down this new and alternate path, with a new faith and these brand new eyes with which to see: the water feels great over here, and I am jumping in.