weekend. la la.

dears, it seems as though i've been away from the blog for so long! i've missed you. we planned a big backpacking trip for the weekend into the week, but our plans for a long and winding trek through the wilderness were thwarted partially by washed out roads and trails and partially by me feeling like a pile of dog poo. we *did* take a nice 7 mile hike with all of our gear. and i got to practice a new moving meditation i've been studying. it was delightful. once back in town (i just love calling what-ever city i'm living in "town"), we watched an episode of Felicity and ate vegan take-out. also, there was a swell bike ride or two and we finally hung the big Obama poster in our front window. it's back to work.
big loves to all of you.

it's monday again.

the sun shines on seattle today.

i rode the train to portland this weekend to see my dear girlfriends. my girlfriends gave me so many smiles and memories. they are such an amazing lot of ladies. they make me happy & homesick.

i made new friends on the trains: a group of tourists from japan (they gave me gifts and smiles); an art studio moving from new york (she reminded me of the smile i felt inside when i arrived in portland for the first time); a young man who was drunk and a little mentally ill (he told me that he saw my soul from across the room).

i missed my husband. how i got so lucky to have found him, i'll never know.

happy monday, dear-hearts.

thirty years ago today...

my mama was mowing the lawn. nine months pregnant with child. a few hours later, this little whale-lover boogied on into the world.

i'm so blessed to have all of you in my life. thank you for making the first thirty years so FABULOUS. life just gets better with each year. let's all have a good laugh at my crazy hair-cuts over the years!! xoxox

i'm going to enjoy the sun today, hit the beach, eat white cake with white frosting, and chill with my family. love. and peace. to you!

When it rains, it pours.

Hello there friends, I'll bet you thought I had fallen off the face of Earth again. Not yet. I have just been busy-ing myself with the usual vortexes of time: yoga, painting, thinking about what I want to be when I grown up, making holiday presents (Dad: under no circumstances should you follow this link unless you want to see your holiday gift) like this one.

And I have been working on some crazy pieces. Paintings where acrylics, watercolors, oils and thread all happen to meet on a crazy piece of canvas. That's right, I pulled out the oils for the first time since we left Denver. And it was fun. By tomorrow, I should have something fun to show you. Until then, here is a photo of what I want for our holiday card, but I don't think the Mister quite approves of.

*really*

Kelly of Camp Indigo Soul posted another of her poignant and potent lists of Five Really Good Things, so I thought it was time for me to *publicly* count up some of my own blessings, too.

1. Almost nine months into our life here in Seattle, I'm finally starting to feel like we are *home*. I know that we won't be here forever, but I am a nest-er by nature and like having my local community, family of friends, and routine. This week, between new friends and professional networks, I feel like I'm hitting my Seattle stride.

2. My family and I have never been closer. And this has never meant more to me.

3. My husband is supportive of my life as a creative entrepreneur. I think he has always known that "the law" would never be enough for me on its own, but he really shows me that he is all for the artist-yogini-attorney (AYA, i like it!) trifecta! Shucks, I'm a lucky gal.

4. The HANDMADE CHALLENGE. How awesome is this?! Check it out.

5. Yesterday, at a seminar I had to take before getting sworn in as a multi-state lawyer, I met an amazing, grounded, funny attorney who reminded me why I simply must keep part of myself in that world, too.

Oh, and number six: the LAUNCH!

The un-precious.

I am definitely not Type A, at least not when I'm living authentically. Back when I was a prosecutor (motivated by a sense of Karmic duty to domestic violence and child abuse victims as well as the dubious quest for trial experience), I had to live a Type A lifestyle in order to keep it together-- working 90 hours a week, still trying to keep my yoga practice intact, making art only when there was *time*-- it required a lot of planning and scheduling, but not a lot of time to think or relax. This was not my path.


My path involves volunteering, teaching yoga to the elderly and at-risk youth, using the old law license on a low-key basis in an office at home, painting everyday, keeping the home fires burning and the such. Part of inching my way back to the path of living a truly authentic life has involved giving myself time to play. Play at yoga. Play at art. Playing is hard when you limit yourself to tools that are *too precious* to mess up. I've mentioned this before, but I do some of my best work (or my favorite work, at least) on cheap, throwaway materials. They allow me the freedom to just do what comes naturally, rather than plan out everything to the point where I've stiffled any of the ideas that have swirled into my brain at 5 a.m. But now that I have begun the process of offering my work for sale, I am torn about my re-use, re-tool, re-cycle tendencies. I want to give someone the best quality materials possible. Hmmmmm. Sounds like I might need to get over my *fear* of good materials. I think the new Fabriano paper might be just the starting point.



But before I do, I have some pack-rat scribbles to share with you, dear readers. The backstory: my husband studied geology as an undergraduate. He has all of these fabulous books from those days. I love digging through them to find new words or images. As I was looking through a petrology book, I found a cache of old tests and study guides. These are such a lovely bit of archeology, in my opinion, his twenty-year old boy handwriting, atrocious spelling, the professor's notes, it's so fascinating. The next day, though, I found the pile of tests in the recycling bin. What? I asked him if he really wanted to get rid of them. He gave me one of those "not everyone keeps their retainer from junior high" looks, so I knew he had let it go. Nonetheless, I thought it proper to ask him if I could scribble on them. These images are the result. Un-precious fun.

Thistle

This sketch began on sort-of a whim. My husband didn't believe me when I told him that "thistle" is a crayola crayon color that is muted fuchsia-purpley-dust, so I painted a little exaggerated version for him minus the green. So there you have it.