Surfs Up!

My boy has always been a water soul. From way back when he was a teeny little thing.  He is happiest, most at home with himself and to use his words 'the most free' when he is swimming, snorkeling, body surfing, or getting tumbled by waves.  I have zillions (well, probably hundreds) of pictures of him in water, whether it be beach, pool, water park, sprinklers, or puddles.

I signed him up for surf camp this year, and I believe he may have found his core, the thing that may ground him and help sustain him in his life. A place like we all need, to go and recharge our minds, spirituality, and bodies.

He proved to be a natural at surfing, up and walking the board both ways, and DANCING on it, within 20 minutes or so.  He caught waves all morning.  When I picked him up, tousled blond and a bit sunburned, he was different than he was when I dropped him off, something fundamentally had changed, for the good. He had completely connected with the experience of riding the waves, the freedom, the autonomy, the abandon and the Zen spirituality of it.   I am grateful to my core that he had such connection with this experience.

And the bonus, as if he needs one?  The counselor assigned to him is a Parkour competitor, which makes him close to a superhero for my boy.

When I watch my boy on his incredible journey, I am struck by his innate sense of who he is, his ease at living, his confidence with new things, his courage in the face of things he may be unsure about and his joy at overcoming those things.  I am fortunate that he still speaks to me of his heart and of things that many kids keep silent about. Our conversations give me a window into his heart and mind, and it is at these times I know he is going to be a good man, a strong, honest and happy man, a courageous in so many ways man.  And I am so grateful for that.

From Start to Finish for AbigaleR86

AbigaleR86 contacted me via convo on etsy and asked for an Autism necklace, I thought she might like to see how it was done.

It was made with Art Clay which is a malleable form of fine silver, you make what you want, let it throughly dry, then fire it to burn off the binder and get the silver particles to sinter.  Its a pretty cool process and the result is 99.9% pure silver, otherwise known as fine silver.

This is the puzzle peice in damp clay. It is very rough around the edges at this stage.  Sorry about the glare ;(

 

After it dried for 48 hours it was filed, sanded and shaped.  The it was put to the torch (the fun part).  The picture on the left is the refined piece just starting to burn off the binder particles.  The image on the right is showing the piece coming up to 'glow'  It has to stay at that color for approx 10-15 minutes in order for the silver to completely sinter.  It's a tricky business, just a skooch too much and you have a melted mess on your hands, too little and the silver won't sinter, leaving you with a piece that will not stand up to any wear.

Once its fired and cooled, the piece is actually white, silver is a white metal in its pure state, the silver color comes from the molecules being aligned by prolonged rubbing/polishing.  The best way to do this is in a tumbler with absolutely sparking clean steel shot, some soap and a bit of water.  Being tumbled also 'work hardens' the metal, making it a bit tougher.

You can see in the tumbler, that the work appears white, then below on the steel block after the tumbler, how beautifully polished it is!  I love taking the gasket off the tumbler and seeing how sparkly the work is!  Then a little texturing with a small hammer.....

 

add some sterling chain and a clasp, and TA DA!

 

I hope she likes it!

 

And I am so grateful that she trusted me with her request. 

Stepping into Greatness

I spent the weekend at a pretty intense seminar revolving around the premise of  'Stepping Into Your Greatness'  It was a lot of hard work, letting go of past resentments, deep dark ugly hurts, and turning those things into positives.  All in all pretty freaking awesome weekend.  E and husband stayed home, hubby rose to the occasion mightily, really and truly.  E had a birthday party to go to, and hubby took him.  It was a laser tag party, and E was sooooo excited to be there with his friends.  I came home last night E was fast asleep (GO HUBBY!!!) and hubby tells me that E was bullied in the laser tag arena, ended up sitting at the cake table with tears in his eyes struggling not to cry.  I went and laid down with him a bit, just being with him, letting him sleep and covering him with love from my heart.

When we woke this moring, he showed me the cool house he had built out of the cardboard from the new bathroom cabinet (it was AWESOME), and after a while I asked....

Me- I hear you had a rough time at the party....
E- yeah
Me- wanna talk about it?
E- I was on a team with... & ... & ....  and we went in we were having so much fun and this big mean kid from the other team grabbed my face and pushed me up against the wall and starting shooting my target to get a bunch of points, and then my team abandoned me.
Me- Did he hurt you?
E- not really
Me- So what did you do?
E- I told him he wasnt supposed to do that, and he said something mean
Me- so what were you thinking?
E- that I should do the same thing, since nobody was playing teams anymore
Me- Did you?
E- NO, I really wanted to, but I didn't because it would have been cheating.
Me- yeah that revenge stuff feels good for about how long?
E- only a minute, then you feel pretty bad
Me- are you and your friends from the team OK or are you angry with them?
E- We're OK, they just got excited about points and forgot to be a team, but when they gave the big mean kid his prize for the most points, I stood up and told him he didnt win, that he cheated.
Me- so how do you feel about how you played?
E- Good, really good
Me- Because you kept your integrity?
E- Yeah, pretty cool
Me- yes you are

I spent the entire weekend learning to 'Step into Greatness' and the reward was waiting for me at home, he already knew how.

And I am so grateful for that

Really, I have been working, really...

Since we moved and started renovating the house, I haven't had time to blink, much less keep up with posting. Its finally under control (well, sort of, almost....sigh...). But I had a few minutes to post new work, so I thought I'd share here too. I like it, what do you think?

Gypsy Silver Earrings

Dual Disc Copper

Dual Disc Copper

Dual Disc Copper

HOOPS!

Fancy Hoops!

Sea Glass and Copper Coils

Turquoise and Sterling

That felt good!  And I am so grateful for that ;)

My Hero.

This one had to sit with me awhile.  For a lot of reasons.

E was really excited about his halloween costume, it was to be gruesome, bloody, scary, and borderline inappropriate.  Perfect for Halloween.  He dubbed it his maniac costume, among other titles.  He and Dad worked for hours on the make up, it was awesome, like hollywood good.

But he and I both caught a lot of flak for it.  I'm still trying to figure out if people really think he'll grow up to be a serial killer because we let him have fairly free rein over his costumes. He was really hurt and confused by some of the things that were said, it was a very creative expression for him, and some other parents just didnt get it.  I had to explain to him that some folks take things way too seriously.

Do they not see how empathetic he is? How wise? How loving and kind?  I guess not.  And thats their loss. 

A few days before Halloween, A friend confided to him that she was really sad, feeling all alone in the world, and that she was thinking of committing suicide. A fourth grader. Ready to end it before it began.  E went directly to the adults in charge and got her the help she needed.  He didnt ignore her, he didnt waffle about what to do.  He quite possibly saved her life.  She was terribly angry with him, and he felt like he had betrayed her.  He wrote her a note that said in part" I am so sorry I told your secret, But I really like you and didnt want you to be gone"  We talked about it afterwards, and at the end of our conversation he said "I guess it's better to have her mad at me and lose her as a friend for awhile, than to have done nothing and lost her for always" And the best part?  He was truly surprised that people were so proud of him and telling him how brave he was.  To him it was the only right thing to do.

Take that you judging bunch of mofo's.  Next time SEE the child -not the costume. Or maybe the next time you dress up like a hooker for halloween we can all assume its your true alter ego.

Now his maniac/serial killer get-up looks like a hero costume to me, and I am grateful for that, he is my hero.

Two for Mom!

I picked E up from school the other day, and on the way to gymnastics, we had this conversation:

E- 'You know why I love you so much?'
Me- 'Why pumpkin?'
E- 'Because you listen to me, you really listen, you let me ask questions and questions, you listen to my opinion, and you give me honest answers.  I dont see many parents doing that.  I really love you because when you listen to me that way, then I know you love me and that I am important.'
Me- *sniffle* 'I love you too sweetness, with all my heart'

Then over the weekend, in the driveway, sweating, in the rain, helping E to pull the staples out of garden fencing we needed for the halloween graveyard (it came out great by the way)

E- 'Mom, turn and look at me'
Me- 'OK'
E- 'Now smile'
Me- 'OK'
E- 'You look beautiful like that Mom'
Me- 'I love you too'

it makes it soooo worth it. 

I love being his Mom, and I am grateful for that

Phew! Studio!!!!

Our summer started with the hard realization that we had to move into a better school district.  E needed to be in a neighborhood where he could go to school with the local kids. So we sold the house....bought a new one... and did this to it.

Then we painted, and tiled and carpeted and did dishes in a laundry sink, using my show tables for counters.  My studio was the storeroom. sigh.  Now I have cabinets, everything is 99% unpacked, just need some counter tops and we'll be done.  ummm except for the bath remodel, thats next.....

BUT my Art Room looks like this now:

 

And I will be getting back to BIDNESS real soon!   yaay!

 

 

And I am so grateful for that.



Hahahaha! can you say BOILERPLATE?

Love this, this is the "completely noncommital - do not address any concerns specifically- CYA letter" I got back from Ms K--- Superintendent of the School District

Dear Ms. Knapp:

Thank you for sharing your concerns.  I want to assure you that at all times the safety of our students was paramount.  The decision to have school in session on Monday was based on the information available to us at the time.  We relied on the National Hurricane Center and the National Weather Service in Melbourne, as well as local information provided through the county’s Emergency Management. 
This storm proved to be unpredictable.  While I understand your concerns, I want you to know decisions regarding schools were taken seriously.  As weather conditions deteriorated, our focus remained entirely on our students and ensuring they all made it home safely from school, which they did. 

Best Regards,


Nancy K-----
Superintendent

One of the guys I work with says that the email is a paraphrase for "You guys voted me out of office so screw you"

And I am grateful we did.

A post storm letter

This is what it looked like trying to get to the school.

I wrote this to the superintendent of schools today.  I take full responsibility for not listening to my my 'mama voice' and sending E to school on the advice of the school boards anouncement.  This is all I have to say about it. I think its enough. I feel better now.

Dear Ms K-------,
As I am certain you have received numerous communications in regard to yesterdays unconscionable decision to keep the Martin County School District open, I will make this short and to the point.
As a new family to the Martin County Public School system, I am appalled at your offices lack of regard for the saftey of not only your students and their familes, but your staff as well.  As parents, we look to your office for guidance in these matters, assuming that you have much better information than we have access to. As that is apparently not the case, next time my gut instict trumps your offices information.
Trying to get to my sons school to pick him up yesterday was a nightmare, and our story is mild in comparision to others I have heard.  I can only hope that this level of shortsighted incompetence is an aberration and not the normal way you run your district.  The only saving grace is your extreme good fortune that no one was hurt. Adding credence to my complaint is the fact that the schools were closed today to inspect for damage, damage that would have been incurred WHILE the children were in school, again your good fortune that no one was hurt.
The only ray of light I can see in this debacle is that Ms M----- and her staff were absolutely on point yesterday and are to be highly commended.  You are extremely fortunate to have people of such dedication and heart working for you.
Regards,

Thank you Kelly!

Its been awhile since I wrote anything here.  I have missed it, dearly.  I stopped because I was getting flak from the mothers of the kids who bully my son.  One actually wrote a comment on the Broken Hearts post that has me wondering if she is certifiable.  She has turned it around so that she views my son as the bully.  Yeah, thats why her family was asked to leave the school, and asked to leave the Dojo, among other places- Because my son is the bully, makes perfect sense to me.  NOT.

Screw that.  

Kelly Warren of http://happyshackdesigns.blogspot.com/  I thank you from the bottom of my heart for your comment yesterday.  I came back and reread a lot of the old posts, It made me realize that if I stop writing about what I want to write about -be it a rant, a celebration, art I am working on or a share-because I am too thin skinned to deal with the craziness-then the bullies win, and I refuse to model that for my son.

Kelly- you made me realize that what I write does make a difference, even if only to me.  If it makes a difference to anyone else, thats icing on the cake.
I'm back. And I am grateful for that.

To my son. Nuff said.

Broken Hearts

OK.  It’s official, I’m completely totally 100% over it.

My son goes to a private school.  I put him there thinking he would, in some measure, be safe, at least more so than in public school. He’s in the third grade.  He’s doing well, reads at almost 7^th grade level according to the standardized tests, is extremely creative, follows the rules, puts reasonable question  to authority,  gets along well with his teachers and classmates.

And he’s getting bullied.  Everyday.  Verbally and/or physically, pretty much every DAMN DAY.  This has been going on for years.  Zero tolerance they say. We’re working on a solution they say.  We have a plan they say.  Yeah, that’s why when I pick my son up some days; he’s on the verge of tears, tears that rain in a torrent as soon as he & I are safe in the car.

Yesterday, what resounded with me was “why won’t they keep us safe from him Mommy?”  (notice he asked ‘won’t’ not ‘can’t’) and “Why don’t they make him leave mommy?” and sadly- when I ask what the teachers do-“ I hate my teachers, they won’t do anything” 

Good questions, those are.

They are trying to do something, they say, they have a plan.  Big damn whoop.  The plan is about helping the bully.  What bullshit. What about what it’s doing to my son and the other kids that are being tortured? Everyone is so intent on helping the BULLY, that they are forgetting the damage he has inflicted and continues to inflict on his classmates. 

Forgetting that at night parents like me have to stay until their child falls asleep because he’s scared. 

Forgetting that at night, the bullying doesn’t stop, it revisits in dreams, the kind our kids wake up crying from.

Forgetting that parents like me are on overtime trying to compensate for the damage inflicted on burgeoning self-esteem, damage that will last a lifetime.

Forgetting that by not protecting, lifting up and cherishing the kids who are getting hurt, they exponentially add to the damage.

Forgetting that the bully getting all the ‘fix it’ attention is the wrong message.  There is no apparent consequence for him.  But the kids who are getting bullied get in trouble for ‘tattling’

Forgetting that this is the stuff kids are dying about.

All the positive reinforcement techniques in the world do not stop the message the bully is pounding into these children.  That they are losers, they are stupid, they are worthless.  The message gets through and it sticks. Compounded by all the ‘forgetting’.

And I’m beyond pissed off.

And I am grateful that my son trusts me and believes in me enough that he brings his hurts and sadness to me, and we work on it together.  But I can’t fix it, and that breaks my heart.

The Sandhill Cranes update

As I promised Evan, We went back to check on his friends, the Sandhill Crane pair that one of them had been injured. 

They weren't there, we looked everywhere, all around the lake, all down Grandmas street.  Couldnt find them.  Evan investigated the swale where we first found them and found some amazingly soft fluffy down from one of them, it was like trying to hold a bit of a summer cloud in your hand.  It made him smile, and then laugh as the breeze caught it and he tried to catch the itty bitty cloud.

We talked about how it was good that we weren't seeing a crane alone, because that could mean something sad, remember- they mate for life.

Evan said a small prayer, and as we were leaving the development, I thought I caught a glimpse of a pair walking on the other side of the lake, one not walking as gracefully as the other....

And I am grateful for that, so much.

The Sand Hill Cranes

My son is 8.  He is rough, rowdy, goofy, serious, sweet, smart, totally all boy.  Wants to grow up and join the CIA to rid the world of bad guys.  Some have expressed that he is ‘obsessed’  (their word, not mine)with violence.  (Off topic side note, the ones who say this are the ones whose sons bully mine. Go figure) The ones who know him, know better.

My son tests himself and his emerging maleness by playing at swords and war, as boys have done since the dawn of the world. It is not obsession; he is readying himself to make a difference in an increasingly difficult world.  I do not shelter him from the craziness as much as other moms may, nor do I allow much exposure, in my view neither is fair. I tell him the truth in language he can understand.  He is safe and knows it, he also knows there are bad folks out there and only the brave and true of heart will stop it. He will be one of them. He is brave, empathetic, gentle, discerning and kind, above all he is kind.

We knew something was wrong when we saw these two sand hill cranes.  They were hanging out in the middle of the day in a tiny swale at my mother’s house.  One was down, seemingly resting; the other was pacing around the first, nervous, sitting, then pacing some more. 

These birds mate for life, their chicks stay with them until fully grown, they are beautiful.

Evan wanted to see what was going on, certain all was not well, he approached them very slowly, took almost 10 minutes to get the last few feet.  He moved gently, deliberately, talking to them all the while:

“Don’t worry”

“I won’t hurt you”

“Are you alright?”

“Just want to see if I can help you”

“I love you”

“Shhh, its ok, it’s just me, don’t worry”

This was an eight year olds litany of comfort to a wild animal.

He got very very close.  The one moved away, not too far, but as if to let Evan know he was trusted.  The other, stood, as Evan looked him/her over, He discovered a fresh wound, the right foot was missing, bleeding, painful to put weight on.

Animal control said to leave it for a day or so, was no doubt from an alligator, happens all the time, etc. etc. ad nauseum.

As Evan walked away from them, he said:

“Thank you for letting me get so close to check on you, we’ll be back to see how you are doing, remember that I love you.”

I only heard his conversation with them because I have Mommy hearing, they were private, quiet, meant only for him and the cranes.

The partner crane that had moved away now moved back to his mate and both watched Evan walk slowly and quietly away.  They felt my boys soul, like I do.

"We need to come back and check on them mommy"
"I know, baby, we will, tomorrow"
"Thank you Mommy"

And I am so grateful for that.

I got a gift this morning!!!

In the car, on the way to life as usual, at just about 6:20 this morning, my son in the back, happily playing his DS (no nasty emails please, he gets to play one way only LOL)  I watched this unfold as we made our way.  The picture is from my iPhone, so its not the best, but you get the idea. 

I said- Look! Look at that!! (fully expecting the usual DS induced comatose reply of Uh-Huh)

Instead he said- Wow Mom, thats so beautiful, thank you for helping me notice!

What an awesome gift that was.

Because they are so fleeting, I made a treasury on ETSY trying to keep the colors alive a little longer.  Click on the blog post title to see it, tell me if you think I succeeded.

I am so grateful for these little moments in my life.

Being the Change, Creatively

I am a member of an Etsy 'team' that features Palm Beach County artisans.  It never fails to amaze me when I peruse some of their work.  There is so much talent and generosity around us.  I was looking at Chantals etsy shop (click the blog post title to get there)  and came across these gems......

The quilted fronts are called 'Molas'  Here is her sourcing story

"This pillow was made from a mola purchased in Panama. Kuna women of Panama hand sew their molas to used them as front and back panels for their blouses. Traditional molas depict geometrical patterns as well as realistic designs of flowers, birds and animals. Molas are hand sewn using a reverse appliqué technique and can take 2 weeks to 6 months to complete.

The Kuna people live in Panama, Central America and are a proud people. Making and selling their molas is an important source of revenue for them."

I am in awe of these, She is making things, exquisite things by hand, while helping to support an indigenous people.  Can you imagine if we all did that? sort of a Kiva/Etsy hybrid.  Damn, we could change the world.

Chantal already is, one Mola pillow at a time.

And I am so grateful to be part of a team that has such generous members.

Painted shoes, flights of fancy, wearable art.

NoraKaren- Where were you when I got married?

I would have totally rocked these with my demure little dress!!

Nora's imagination is apparently boundless...check these out


Tatt Chic? No Problem
  

Fairy Tale Wedding? Look no further...


Elegant Extravagance ?  She has you covered.....


Hip Rocker Awesomeness?  no worries......


I love browsing through her shop.....you will too!!

Wings and Faith

Awhile back a dear friend who has been my self-appointed fan club prez, (OMG I love her!) had been gifting her mother, among others, with my work, told me that her Mother was a docent at a fabulous Museum across the state.  (Trembling and disbelief starts here…)

Her mom wore my work a LOT while she gave tours, and apparently was being asked about the work consistently, and whether it was available in the Museum Store. (heart rate soars here…) 

This is one of the necklaces her Mom liked to wear.

Very long story short (fear, trepidation, and paralysis off the charts ALL through here…), with gentle prodding from my friend, a trip across the state, my work is in the Museum Store.  I discovered it’s very hard to drive back across the state while doing a happy dance.

My friend, with her amazing gift to me of unwavering belief  (and a good kick in the ass)…gave me wings and conviction.

Then....Not so very long ago, a friend who had commissioned work before, saw the pieces I posted that were sent to the museum, and asked if I would make her a piece of sea glass jewelry to remember her sister by. 

Yes, I cried.
(And I was afraid.)
But mostly I was filled with gratitude that she would trust this to me.

Her sister was a guiding light in the family, every picture I ever saw of her was full on laughter, always a light in her eye.  In the conversation about what would best represent her sister, my friend also shared that she had lost her mother not all that long ago.  She told a story about her parents, after they had discovered her Mom was sick, taking long walks on beaches…looking for sea glass. 
And I cried some more.

She decided that the gift needed to extend to more of their family, and we ended up with 8 pieces.  EIGHT.   We chose this from the glass her Dad so willingly sent:

(Paralyzing fear)

What if I couldn’t hit the mark?  What if I took all this beautiful glass and screwed it up? 

Then I remembered I had wings, and I breathed, and this is some of what happened:

Every single one has a heart soldered on the back.

This friend with her amazing gift to me of trust…gave me faith and calm.

I am am grateful for my friends, who lift me up.  I only hope I do the same for them.

Dont blink...you may not get another chance

There’s a country song by Kenny Chesney called ‘Don’t Blink’.  It’s a reminder to pay attention to what’s important. 

You could miss something. Something important that you can’t get back.

Yesterday, I picked Evan up after camp at the ranch.  He had lost his shoes, among other things.  He was hungry and wanted to go to the market and get some of their yummy chicken.  No Shoes.  Hmmm.

I said yes.

I figured we could get away with it this once, but as we got out of the car into the almost 100 degree heat, I realized the asphalt would be torture on his feet.  It occurred to me to piggy back him, but I’m 5’2” on a good day, and barely over 120 lbs.  He’s up to my shoulder already and much too heavy these days. So we ran.

But it started that song in my head….

When was the last time he had asked for a piggy back ride?  Did I say yes? I don’t remember

When was the last time he wanted to hold my hand in public? Did I?  Yes

When was the last time he asked me to push him on the swings? Did I?  I hope so

When was the last time he asked me to go on a bike ride with him? Did I? No

When was the last time he asked me to read just one more story? Did I? Yes

When was the last time……

You never know which time will be the last. 

You don’t get these moments back.

Say yes. Say yes. Say YES.

I am grateful that I said yes to shoeless chicken, and for the possibility of going on that bike ride that I said ‘no’ to not so long ago.

The Zen Oxymoron of Perfection

I remember while reading about Japanese art a long time ago, that it is the imperfections which make an artwork perfect, desirable. What a life changing idea. If there is no flaw, there is no uniqueness. If an item is unique, it is perfect. I love Zen circles.

I think that having that thought in the back of my mind all these years has kept me from completely losing it at more than a few points in my life. Somehow that tucked away concept kept me going when I was at my most ‘unworthy’.

There have been an awful lot of close calls with losing it…

I could list all the bad choices, rough roads, etc ad nauseum, but I won’t. I have discovered that far from being utterly alone in my imperfect state, it’s crowded in here. We all have this kind of stuff we carry around, doing our damndest to ensure that no one else knows how unlovable we are.

The last few years, in trying to shed this need to be perfect, I have had some setbacks, with me clinging to the idea of attaining that perfection like it was the air I needed to breathe. It matters less to me now. I like me most of the time. I like me a lot actually, and if there are people out there who don’t, well-their loss. Seems to me those folks are the ones dancing the perfection polka the hardest. It used to cut me to the core when I would get blown off/ignored/overlooked because of some perceived imperfection (insert “not whatever enough” of your choice here) I possessed, now the cuts are shallower and I am beginning to feel sorry for them, that they will not know me.

It hits me the hardest when I see my 7 year old son struggle with what other people think of him. All my past pains become sharper, and I see what I have lost by allowing the pursuit of perfection to rule me. Watching him, that’s pain, a boo boo I can’t kiss and make go away, I have to offer him skills instead, skills to recognize and dismiss the utter soul suicide of assuming personal responsibility for everyone else’s happiness. And it’s really hard, since I am relatively new to those lessons myself. What bullshit. And no I don’t use those phrases with him.

My art, my jewelry is part of this epiphany. It isn’t perfect, but it is, in an oxymoronish Zen sort of way, and I like it that way, its individual, part of a journey, creative, part of me, birthed from a particular moment in my life, (hmmm, my son is all those things too, and more) it’s the kind of work that speaks to a person’s inner self. Not about karats, carats or anything else, except the connection. Maybe that’s why I give it away sometimes.

So two things born of me, my son and my jewelry, are giving me a new perspective, a rebirth of sorts My life is awesome.
I apologize to my husband for the insane amount of commas in this post, but I write the way I think....

I am simply letting go of the idea of impossible and doing my best to embrace my Zen-like uniqueness. And it feels good, and I am grateful for that.   oooohhhhmmmm