The Monthly Bloom

Isn't our yard amazing... in February! It's inspired my new "in every issue" feature - The Monthly Bloom. Here's some of what's been blooming, budding, or popping out of the ground right in our backyard. I have lots of details to follow up with about how we spent our (mostly) sunny Sunday afternoons in February:) 

Restoring a hundred year old house has its ups and downs no doubt. We're recently learning that repairs are not always conclusive, that short cuts inevitably end up making more work in the end, and that it's not easy to pick the perfect paint color the first time around. So, we relish in taking a break from the house and working outside whenever we can. The yard is so forgiving! It's really hard to mess things up out there. And, if you accidently plant hawthorne bushes where you think you've destroyed the yucca that turns out can't be destroyed (should have read between the lines of what the neighbor was telling us about trying to remove that plant himself), well, let the yucca reclaim reign and move the hawthorne bushes to another spot. We're constantly moving plants around until we figure out what works, and they're almost always corporative.

We've bought new plants, swapped plants, had plants forced on us by others trying to reign in their spreaders, we've dug up and transported plants from Birmingham and Spring Hill, we've attempted rooting, we've planted plants that lined the aisle at our wedding, we've taken seeds from plants at botanical gardens across the country (I think that's ok to do?), we've salvaged lavender plants from a dumpster, we've dug up hundreds of bulbs in our backyard and separated almost as many crowns, we've attended gardening workshops, lectures, and festivals where we usually feel out of place until we're bombarded with bright eyes eager to give the young folks advice... and it's only been three years! We love working in the yard together. It's one of the best unexpected joys in our marriage:) 

Well, I guess I got a little carried away there. Can you tell how much I love gardening?

Just Getting Started

When you're not concerned with succeeding, you can work with complete freedom. 
 - Larry David

I keep thinking about something Larry David shares in the special features of one of the Seinfeld dvds. (It's been a while, but I have watched them all... with the commentary on.) He explains the paralysis he experienced after writing every episode, wondering if he'd be able to do it again, to at least meet the standard set for himself by attaining a certain level if not aspiring to greater achievement. I know, it sounds miserable, and a little bit high strung in typical Larry David fashion. Yet I find myself stuck in a similar mindset more often than I'd like- paralyzed with fear and doubt, questioning my ability, my creativity, even the value of my calling as an artist. It's why the most difficult part of a project for me is getting started, always. I doubt my success before I even begin. I worry I won't be able to do it again, or that I'll experience some sort of regression instead of progression in my work, even though I know there is no such thing as regression in the creative process, that every step, stumbly though it may be, is moving me forward. Is there any redeeming quality in this sort of thinking? Some sort of adrenaline? Maybe. But, I really don't think there's any freedom in this fear, which is problematic because freedom is an essential ingredient in creativity.

So, step one: admission. Now what? How do I control this type of thinking? What am I even trying to prove, and to whom? I know my best work comes from within me, with no ulterior motive of trying to please someone else's aesthetic- I've learned the hard way. And, yes, I truly believe that work, sub par as it may be, has moved me forward in my creative journey. I also know what that moment feels like, when all is right in the world, when I am moving and creating from someplace bigger than myself, that moment that escapes as soon as I try to grab hold of it. I've never experienced that moment when consumed with living up to some standard, even if self imposed. The two cannot coexist. The good news however, if I can just get started, that moment will likely come again. I think that's really what my work is about- not the outcome, certainly not the money, but that elusive beauty of participating in the creative process, which I'm a full believer in. So, struggling with fear and working through doubts, often just stumbling along, I find there is redemption in my work as an artist. If only I could remember this every time I'm coming up with thousands of things to do instead of just getting started.

Forecast from our Front Yard

Here's last year's similar February forecast, even though pictures don't come close to doing our field of crocuses justice. Lulu's been barking like crazy out the front window. She does this often, but lately when we come to see what all the fuss is about we generally discover passers by stopped on the sidewalk in front of our house pointing and gazing at the hundreds of little purple flowers peeping out from the grass. They're everywhere, creeping into the back yard and flowers beds too!

a sweet shop

Some pics from one of our happy finds in Phoenix, Smeeks Sweet Shop. Love the bright colors, love the candy, obviously, love the robin's egg blue with red and orange, love the big glass jars filled with treats, love the orange crush poster, love the gnome home. Love a holiday embracing highly saturated reds and pinks, candy (chocolate candy), and flowers! and some cupcakes...

sending out some hugs and kisses

I love an excuse to enjoy some kisses. Happy handmade Valentine's cards are in my etsy shop!

Picture This and a Compliment

Last Friday I had the privilege of being a guest speaker for a few third grade classes in South Knoxville. A neighbor invited me to share a little about my work after her class read a book entitled What Do Illustrators Do? Before I knew it, all of the third grade teachers were eager to have me visit their classrooms as well! I found out later that the principle even snuck into the back of one room to hear about my work. I'm glad I didn't know before hand, because I was already a little bit nervous about presenting to the third graders. However, they proved to be a much better audience than my community college students.

I started by talking about how pictures work. And, I have an amazing secret tool: a picture book about picture books, Picture This by Molly Bang. It's really one of my all time favorite books. It continues to inspire and astonish me every time I pull it out. I was introduced to this book when getting my MFA, and I taught it to several college level art appreciation classes, so I was very curious to know how third graders would respond to it.

The book tells the story of Little Red Ridding Hood using simple shapes and colors, emphasizing the use of composition. I let the students guess the best possible shape, color, size, and placement for the varying elements in the story. It was great to hear the younger students' very raw unfiltered responses to changing up these simple visual elements. For example, when the trees are tilted instead of standing vertically... ooooh, when Little Red Ridding Hood, a red triangle, shrinks in size in the midst of the now very scary tilted black rectangles, the woods... ahhhh, and when the wolf's teeth are changed from black to white, popping off of the background even more dramatically.... squeals and laughter. It was great fun! What a testament to how powerfully pictures evoke emotion. Even if unable to explain what specifically they were moved by, even if it was subconscious, each student had a strong response to the changing four colors and very basic shapes.

After this exercise I read my "dummy" book, which is a mock-up book sent to publishing companies. The students were very curious about my work, and it was so much fun to explain the process of writing and illustrating my book, If Peaches Grew on Peachtree Street. I got lots of great questions, heard lots of their own ideas for books, and had several very encouraging compliments. However, there was one little girl sitting in the front row a little bit timid about the question she was about to ask me. With eyes wide and her mouth open in disbelief, she raised her hand and asked in a very soft wisper, "Did you illustrate all of the Dr. Seuss books?!?" I smiled and chuckled a little bit, and then said, "No. Did my book remind you of those books?" She nodded. Best compliment ever.

If Peaches Grew on Peachtree Street

Staying Peppered in the New Year

I'm sure the term "peppered" brings to mind varying images for everyone. I've talked about the history of my paper-peppering technique here. I think of something "peppered" as sprinkled with cheer: colorful, sweet, vibrant, textured, intricate, lively, bubbly, and with a little kick! I was thrilled to get some gifts this year to help keep us "peppering" in the new year. Whether it's through cooking and eating, writing and photographing, crafting and creating, or by watching and being inspired- I know it's the little things that are "the spice of life." And, I'm eager to spice things up a little bit this year!

Pa-pri-ka (pepper) - used to add color and flavor to dishes, yum

My mom found this ribbon with some of her old fabric scraps. Pretty and peppery- a perfect stocking stuffer!

We'll be "peppering up" lots of meat this year. And, when I say we, I mean Laurence. I'll certainly be enjoying it though. And, I love the logo on this!

Isn't this a lovely serving basket from Budapest, with chile peppers and all! I love getting gifts from other countries.

Some notebooks from Laurence to help me consolidate all the to-do lists and post-its I leave around the house. Hmm, I think they'll be perfect for sketching and journaling!

The Joby Gorillapod Tripod! For taking lots of photos of all our "peppering" in the new year.

The Original Whirley Pop!

Yum.