Painting big

Writing down other lives and the best strawberry cake

Theo asked for an art party for his birthday. We covered the walls of the studio and tucked everything away so that he and his friends could paint on the walls. And the floors. Andy and I spent the night before setting up. After, we cut out some artwork from each kid and packaged it up in a big envelope as a their thank you. Then folded the remaining paper up and brought it out to the recycling. It was a hit.

I feel depleted. Tired, yes, but overwhelmed by a lack empathy in the world at the moment paired with the constant chatter, selling, influencing that exists. And yet, I need to wake up tomorrow and be a parent to my kids. To show them hope, goodness, and try to live a life they can be proud of. Choosing that everyday is an act of resistance in our world. Spent some time chatting with a friend in the studio late night about this. We need to remember that our actions compound. Our hope and joy compounds. And that kids miss nothing.

Theo and I made a double batch of our favorite, amazing strawberry cake for his party. He really enjoys baking. I love it so much.

Maymont farm after camp today. We saw ‘Storm’ the alpaca and the enormous tomato plants.

After watching the 15 kids (and adults) paint, I was inspired to set up the studio a bit differently and give myself a dedicated wall for active, messy work. Sometimes it’s just about setting up your space for the work you want to do. I feel like I am back in the swing of painting again.

I sketched what my flower farm would look like in my journal this morning. It would have rows of sunflowers, zinnias, and hydrangeas. Then on the opposite side of that little path would be the herb garden. To the left of the field would be a farm stand. To the right would be the farmhouse. It’s fun to dream. It reminds me of a prompt from “The Artist’s Way”: it asked you to write down a few sentences describing another life you would be happy to live in the future. Then do it again, and again, and again. I think I wrote about 10 or 15 vignettes of lives I would love to live and what I would be happy doing. Then you look across them for patterns / gaps / etc. A flower farmer is a new one for me that I think my current garden unlocked as a possibility.

The dill plants are thriving. We have multiple pale green melons on the cantaloupe vines. The sunflowers are bursting.

I painted big this morning, I painted from the inside this morning. I let my hand walk all over the paper and decide the shapes the colors, the line. I tried not to think, just do. It felt wonderful.

The fig tree has almost crossed above our brick wall.

We biked to Counting Crows down at the river on Saturday night. Parked our bikes (see below) and walked in. They played “A Long December” and it was perfect, even if my bike did make a weird noise all the way home (not fixed yet).