Fall Festival Kick Off

Today is the fall party at Crystal Cove, the apartment community Matt and I have been working at for a month and there is so much to do. We need to set up the room, bake more cookies, buy bottles of soda for the bowling game, make more frosting, take out our trash, go grocery shopping and a bunch of other things. I'm overwhelmed, but something I've been learning about being overwhelmed is that I need to get all the stuff that is packed in my cranium out and aired.

I went to sleep last night at 1:30 AM, which is super later for me, but I couldn't sleep past 7:30 this morning. Since then, I've been up trying to accomplish some things, one of which was  making a German pancake with apple sauce in hopes that it would lure my ever sleeping husband from bed. No cigar. He is still in bed with the covers pulled over his face and about ten pillows stacked on top of his head. I hope he can breath because when he does wake up I really need him.

The truth is that I don't understand migraines.  I've had maybe ten in my lifetime and only two of them have been painful, the others just made the world look like it does through a kaleidoscope.

I did have my share of the German pancake and man, I think this is my favorite morning breakfast. So custard like and delicious. Meanwhile, the man is still asleep and I believe today has marked the moment when I finally realize that my husband doesn't care much about food. He likes it, but I'm pretty sure it wouldn't hit his top ten list of things he enjoys.  That is SUPER strange for me since I love food, cooking food, trying food, eating food, planning food. It's a creative process and when something turns out well I LOVE seeing others enjoy it. The down side is if they don't express satisfaction I'm calculating the next time I make that dish and determining ways to fix it.

Yet, I can honestly say that today's pancake rocks! Now who gets to share the other 3/4th of the goodness?

My new project...well, my brainchild, Matt's project.

Oatmeal Mask

Recently, an artist friend of mine gave me a full tutorial on how to make a mask- as in masquerade.  It was great fun, except that one of the steps was slathering vaseline over my ENTIRE face, which has resulted in a month of itchy, angry, face-full of clogged pores. Where is my 9th grade homeroom when I need it?

So, today, I decided to resurrect my thirty-year old face by making another mask. An oatmeal, honey, milk mask via a recipe I found online.  Yes, you may think that slapping breakfast cereal all over my face dropped me to the level of a 1 year old- but so far, so good. My face is kissing itself right now - a sign of maturity.

All things considered, my fancy mask turned out fairly well. I'll confirm this Sunday night by answering my door, candy in hand with a molded, grimacing look. However, if over the next two days the oatmeal morphs me into Mrs. Hyde, well then it is still a win-win situation; Sunday, I'll just skip the fancy mask all together.

PS. I am learning about photoshop elements...it is fun.

Melinda Hackett

I just read an article about Melinda Hackett, an artist who had a treehouse built for her daughters in Manhattan. Her unfriendly neighbors made a big fuss over it because the neighborhood is historical; people like Mark Twain lived there, and he certainly wouldn't have approved. Anyway, she won the case and I won by reading the article because I felt enticed to see her paintings. I'm glad I did and you will be  too. Please visit her website!

Fear And Other Findings

A friend gave me a chance to talk today, it was nice being inquired about. Thinking over what we discussed, here are some of my current findings.

A. I've realized that it is hard for me to follow-up with new people. It's hard for me to develop new friendships by asking them to coffee, or over for dinner, or just calling on the phone. These simple things may seem easy, yet to me they feels like mountain climbing with a fifty pound pack in flip-flops.  This is a weakness.  Not an insurmountable weakness, but something that I'm asking God to grow me in.

B. Growing up, my family (Pa, ma and their children) didn't have much money. In fact, I can still remember being teased for wearing clothes from Goodwill, and I thought shopping at K-Mart was high end.  Because of that and also because of my biological father's propensity to make a LOT of money, but never have any, I am (at a VERY deep level) afraid of being poor.  I didn't realize this until just a few months back and it has been revealing. I've realized that my employment choices and my pushing us (Matt and I) to make as much money as possible is a fear based reaction versus necessity. Of course, to live, money must come from somewhere, but I had pushed God away from ultimate provide to being one who provides only when absolutely necessary. This is not Biblical and it does not encourage faith, not to mention it has made for many frustrating and overwhelming years.  I'm working on this, working on understanding faith in this area.

C. My own trek as an artist hit a rather frustrating low over the last year. Yet, I still believe God is call me toward daily creativit. Currently, this means humbling myself and realizing that my artistic muscles have lost their elasticity.  I do have the Artist Way group that for helping me uncover much of the grap that has held me back for so long. Most of it is linked to the fear of not having money and the uncertainty of my own gifts.

D. I love my husband. I know, this seems like it should be a given, but we had a really rough first years, and saying this is important, it not only solidifies the pain and struggle we had, but also the truth that those years were worth it. Matthew, is the most unique, quirky person I know (and I know a LOT of unique and quirky people). He talks more than most people I know and loves people more than most I know. He is AMAZING at picking out music and also chatting with strangers and dear friends on their level. I love reading books with him and taking trips with him, and sharing with him spiritual questions and struggles. He can be loud and often doesn't consider things before he speaks, yet he is also tender and willing to grow and we have both changed so much in such a short time being married.  If this is what marriage will be for us, I am proud to be his wife, and excited to grow and learn with him. I love my husband.

My Model

An Office's Beginning w/ the Fuzz.