Saturday, December 26, 2009

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Views, continued...

(antiquing in Snohomish)

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

Day 9

(I spend every afternoon with a cute boy.)

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

Day 8

(a few twinkly lights)

(and one shining star..babygirl's first preschool Christmas program *sigh*)

Monday, December 7, 2009

December Views, Day 7

(temperature when the kids left for the bus this morning, and right now at 9:15pm)

Tis the Season

Sunday, December 6, 2009

December Views, Day 6

A Ferry Ride to the Christmas Farm Tour on Bainbridge Island.

(and then we Decked the Halls)

Saturday, December 5, 2009

December Views, Day 5

(so thankful this one is feeling better today. Swine Flu+Pneumonia= scary!)

Friday, December 4, 2009

December Views, Day 4

(frosty morning grass)


(She keeps lugging this huge pack of toilet paper around and then pretending to be asleep, all over the house, all the time)

(I still have 3 sick kids)

Thursday, December 3, 2009

December Views, Day 3

Frosty Morning Leaves
(the kids are on the mend!)

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

December Views, day 1 (and 2, and...)

I heard about this lovely little project here. I'm in.

Three Sick Kids.

Friday, November 27, 2009


(art by the lovely Jen Lemen)

I hide because I just don't know who I'll be when I come out.
I don't fit into any of the boxes you think I do.
And what's with all the boxes these days, anyway?
I'm noticing that compassion doesn't seem to fit in a box.
At least not any of the boxes currently on the market.
Its kinda changing me.
With so many ways to be
And so many ideas
In my head.
How can I choose just one?
I want to write everything
Tell you everything
But I can't.
I am
So much
And less
Than you expect.
So which is it?
I'm tucked into my cocoon.

Monday, October 26, 2009

I should

blog more often
get up earlier
keep the house cleaner
do more laundry
write everyday
read great literature
pray more
read to my kids
do yoga
weed the garden
paint the closet doors
watch less TV
be on facebook less
be brave in sending my work out
do crafts with my kids
not yell at my kids
not complain
Include a photograph with this post

Breathe. Be Present. Trust that everything is unfolding exactly as it should. Know that I am ok. Right now. Even if I don't do anything on that list.

Stop shoulding on myself.

Tuesday, September 29, 2009


this is what I made in Marisa's amazing
Painting in a Day class at Squam

Emerge! they say, as though it were easy.
You're safe, they urge,
their own colors
my eyes.
We wait for you to join the dance,
their invitation swirling in the air,
as though they'd wait forever,
in anticipation,
expecting me.

But first, I must learn the steps, I think.
And they just smile, knowing, and
hold out their hand, waiting.

If I start, maybe they won't let me stop, I think,
I can't keep up with those who've gone before.
It only takes one step, said one.
Just one, and then you'll see.
Your dance is all your own,
one that can't be seen
or felt,
or done at all,
unless you take
the step.

Your dance makes ours better.

As though a veil was lifted, suddenly
I see the truth.
All the dancers, are beautiful and free,
in step, but each one different.
Each taking one step.
And another.
And another.
A symphony of single steps,
the harmony nearly too beautiful to bear.

They stop to see what I will do,
making room for me.
I see my place, my opening,
my heart racing, sinking.
I take my first step.
I remove the mask,
made by me and the voices of the world.

They gasp in surprise and recognition and joy.
I am one of their own.
As I set my foot upon the stage,
I catch a glimpse, a sliver of my image,
as I am caught up and swirled away
in the arms of my new tribe.
I see me.
For the first time, maybe.
And for the first time,
in such a long, long time.
I see.
That I

*this is what came tumbling out in my journal the other day, on the inspiration of a little stone I found in the woods at Squam, with the word "Emerge" painted on it. Its scary and raw feeling to put this out there. And really, really good.

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

How Emme Found Her Mojo...

Ahhh, Squam. The magical, mystical place where amazing souls come together to create, emerge, breathe. That's a fancy way of saying we had a blast! I really can't believe I was there. I can't believe I met the people I met. We joked that all our imaginary friends from the blogosphere had crawled out of our computers to meet at this wonderful place.

Kicking it off with my Squam BFF Stefanie, when we shared a ride from Boston to the lake with the best cab driver ever Leo. Leo, Leo, Leo. Married for 46 years to his college sweetheart, and drives an airport shuttle run in his minivan just because he loves it. He took Stef and I to a diner for breakfast after a long night on the red eye cross country, and gave us a tour on the way up. Oh, Leo, we won't forget you. Have fun in Florida this winter!

The magical Jen Lee, led the most wonderful writing workshop on trusting your stories, and being brave in the telling. I'm proud to call you friend, Miss Jen. xoxo

The wonderful Marisa. Who frustrated me by not teaching me any technique (at first) in my painting class, but just encouraged me to start. And guess what? She was right. It was enough.

And hip, fabulous Hula. Who taught the most amazing Through the Viewfinder photography class. I'll see you in Portland soon, my friend.

I feel like I've found my tribe, my peeps, my soul-sistahs. Here's a few more of them...

Jen Gray
Liz Lamoreux
Judy Wise
Kirsten Crilly
Jenny Doh
Jennifer McGuiggan

And so many more. The air was crisp, (bone crunching crisp, but I digress) and I was exhausted by the red eye flight + time change, but I felt like I was living a dream, so far removed from my regular life, and yet so much like coming home. I'm so thankful to the mistah for being so incredibly supportive of me, my dreams, my wishes. He makes me feel like anything is possible. And indeed, I feel like I've crossed a threshold of possibility. I just have to remember to keep walking, trust the journey, babystep, babystep. Thanks to the amazing, beautiful Elizabeth, formerly known as Blue Poppy, for having such a magical dream. You helped me find my own.