The Life Poetic

ART JOURNALS & CREATIVE HEALING: Restoring the Spirit through Self-Expression

As my latest attempt at authoring is starting to hit the shelves,  I thought it appropriate to reflect on the project here. Art Journals and Creative Healing was such a deeply personal project for me, and was truly written and coordinated in the midst of my own personal hardships and pain; just a small handful of those closest to me will ever fully understand the brokenness from which this work was forged.

Even now,  I struggle with wanting the book to be buried on the furthest-back, dusty bookshelf of the bookseller, or perhaps negligently left in a stockroom somewhere….for then you won’t be made privy to some of my ugly skeletons.

But that is not why I wrote this book.
As its pages are cracked open to the light of day, exposing “imperfect me” and my dark secrets,  I am confident that also exposed by the light of day will be precious truths:
that we are not alone in our struggle…
that there is healing to be found from the stony and bumpy path…
that the work of our hands can bring about a therapeutic work of the sprit...
and that there really is enduring beauty and wisdom that can be drawn from even the most difficult of circumstances.

It is one thing to talk of the human condition: with its emotional and physical obstacles that have the potential to yield something greater within us.
It is quite another thing to experience it.
And might I say, that it is yet another entirely different thing to try and demonstrate it in a small volume of words and pictures.

This is something I could not have begun to accomplish this task had it not been for a troupe of diverse artists and journal-ers who caught enough of my vision to be willing to not only share their precious pieces of art, but also their profound stories. I know their vulnerability will stir you, as it has stirred me. Their stories have personally provided me with strength,  and I do hope that they will empower you and equip you to face what life has tossed your way. And yes, there is their art, which speaks louder than words.

My deep gratitude to these dear ladies with brave souls, huge hearts, willing spirits, and talented hands….
Melissa Ackerman
Carol Banks
Rebecca Brown
Danea Burleson
Rachel Denbow
Genine Devlahovich
Melissa Diekema
Liz Eaton
Emily Falconbridge
Jamie Harper
Marilyn Healey
Tammy Kay
Nancy Korf
Margert Kruljec
Tammy Kushnir
Shimelle Laine
Cheryl Manz
Jen Nichols
Deb Perry
Allison Schubert
Karan Simoni
Janelle Simons
Kate Teague
Mary Zakrajsek

These ladies offer to the project a rich diversity of style and vantage. These women are from around the globe , from different faiths, and all walks of life. Out of even this broad range of style and influence provides at least something that everyone can identify with (if you can't, may I suggest you are fooling yourself?) ….and out of this broadness is still a commonness: the commonness of struggle and the commonness of a human spirit that triumphs.

While I do hope you enjoy all the provocative visuals in Art Journals and Creative Healing, I must tell you that you will really miss out if you only leaf through the book as though it were a picture-book. It breaks my heart to think that the book might become  just a pretty coffee table décor-piece for some.
Truly, this book was meant to be read….and re-read.

There is so much to excavate out of it: from the creative tip boxes, to the inspiring quotes interspersed among the beautiful photos, to the raw and real sidebars which share the stories behind the journals, to the worksheets that prompt you towards your own journey of healing. It is an unusual work.

Forgive me if I sound proud of this work; my pride is really over the way this came together in a Divine way in spite of me and my desperate lack, and in spite of my circumstances. I reflect back on it now, and wonder (and I do mean WONDER—with head-scratching, mind-spinning bewilderment) how it was EVER accomplished! (If you only knew! ) Let’s just chalk it up to a God-thing, shall we?

And for that I am unabashed.

WITH A GRATEFUL HEART

On this exquisitely beautiful November day I find myself awestruck by how blessed I am.
This realization is made all the more profound by reflecting on a year that was spotted with difficulty and heartache at times. But no less blessed am I.

I’m thankful for the big things: my two kids (happy, healthy, and really good kids), my husband (a man who I’m so proud of and is such a great friend and mate), good health, creativity, immense freedom, a God who loves me. But I’m so thankful for the little things too: the black-eyed susan vine that mingles with the morning glory at my picket fence, the happy sound of my daughter singing in the shower, the faint bark of seals out my front door.

May this Thanksgiving Day find you with an abundance of  both big and small blessings for you to take account, and in the midst of people you love! (I'm going to keep this post short so I can return to my family!)

(The photo above features a vignette from my dining room table and a plaque with an apt scripture for today. The plaque is another piece from our As For Me collection by Demdaco.)

BEING STILL IN THE OC

Since September commenced, it’s been such a hectic time. I only have the two children (a freshman in high school and a sixlet in middle school), but the escalation in back-to-school to-dos and events has maxed out my schedule and tapped out my energy. It seems to be the rule for me, though, that the more fast-paced things become, the more crucial it is that I find a time to be still. This is when God can refocus me, refuel me, and reclaim me….and without it, peace is thin and worn, and joy seems to disappear.

One way of finding a still moment, is through quiet contemplative journaling. A quick painting or craft project can also cause my mind to get in a meditative place, something I explain further in both Faith Books & Spiritual Journaling, and my upcoming title, Art Journals and Creative Healing. Often, I can find a stillness of heart when I’m creating…sometimes I can also find a stillness of heart when I’m doing just a simple household task such as doing dishes … and sometimes I can find a stillness of heart in the space of my car, after I’ve dropped the kids off to school.

But truly there are times that I crave to even more stillness than that….perfectly still… devoid of movement…and absolutely silent…devoid of noise. This is coming from someone who loves some sort of soundtrack playing in the in background of my life. I am a lover-of-music and am married to a very expressive maker-of-music (quite a convenient arrangement I might add)! But even so, the real “be still  times" require me to shut off the soundtrack…my beloved iTunes must go to mute. For many, this stillness and silence feels entirely unnatural and at first feels like a some sort of monastic discipline (just as other practices like journaling or yoga are, let’s say) but honestly, being bathed in silence and released of my to-do list, even if for 10-20 minutes is more like a spa treatment and less like a discipline. In that space, I’m freed from worry. In those moments, there is no demand. Sometimes God speaks to my heart…and well, sometimes He doesn’t. But He’s there, and just knowing that,  and reconnecting with my interior helps me to better organize the things taking place in the exterior. (Something my friend, Mindy Caliguire, has taught me much about!)

I celebrated my birthday last week (my 41st if you’re keeping track of those sorts of things) and when I reflect on my thirties, there has been a lot of acheivement, but simultaneously there has been a lot of worry (over my son’s diagnosis, my dad’s illness and passing, my husband’s inner struggles, our finances, my business)… and a lot of demand (much of it self-imposed, some of it charactaristic of being an author and licensing artist, and some of it a pure by-prouduct of living in the OC). And while there has been a lot of satisfaction in the successes of Sonnets Studios, and even more elation over seeing my kids and husband really flourish in a burgeoning way, I must also admit that there have been many times of private turmoil too. (Sort of an inevtibale equation: a lot of worry + a lot of demand = a lot of turmoil )When I look to the next decade, I’m hoping to orchestrate more stillness into my forties. More surrender. More trusting God that HE is taking care of my kids, and my husband and my business, and EVERYTHING. And more of setting my sights on things that exist in agreement with a life that invites stillness.

I think there is poetic grace in that.
I think there is an artful beauty in that.
And I know there is peace in that.

My new math equation: stillness > striving

{The photos from today’s blog post are the peek I promised of our new DEMDACO collection, AS FOR ME.  This is from the “Be Still” grouping, and includes the votive candleholder, frame, plaque. There are complimentary vases too…a fun endeavor for Beth and I, as prior to this our designs were always pretty much relegated to flat product. Thinking 3-D was a fun challenge and continues to be, as we are wrapping up our Christmas ornament and taple-top designs for DEMDACO. If you are in So. Cal., I have heard from friends and family that they have the line at the Lighthouse Christian bookstores. I’ll try to share more of the groupings in future blog posts, just for fun!}

SPEEDY DELIVERY

Perhaps it was that PBS-rich diet of  Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood I grew up on that causes me to be so excited about the boxes that arrive on my doorstep. You’d think Mr. McFeeley himself was my courier. (Truth be told, as much as Mr. Roger’s is the brunt of many-a-joke or Saturday Night Live sketch, I miss Fred Rogers and would love the innocence, kindness, and optimism that man embodied to pervade my neighborhood any day! He was a blessing and a mainstay of my childhood!)

While they don’t come accompanied by the cheery announcement of “Speedy delivery!”, most boxes that arrive marked “Sonnets Studios” are certainly a reason for cheer, because  most often they contain artists’ samples! Opening them and seeing what’s inside is rather like a birth day, and not really because I liken it to opening presents at a birthday party, but rather I liken it to the day a baby is born. For truly, getting to see the things you imagined take physical shape is magical. Knowing that your creative babies are also being opened by storekeepers around the globe, to be swaddled and loved, and then hopefully to be adopted by a consumer (perhaps a wife or mom not unlike me!) who falls in love with them and MUST take them home….well, it’s really quite moving for those that made the artistic conception happen!

Depicted in the photos is our studio, drenched in the golden afternoon sun, bidding welcome to the pile-up of boxes. It’s been an especially exciting week of deliveries, I must say.

From top to bottom the deliveries include:
Greeting cards we designed for Graphique De France
Final lasers from Quarry Books of my upcoming release (Art Journals and Creative Healing) to be proofed and  signed off on!
Scrapbooking kits we did for C.R. Gibson’s Markings division to be placed in big box stores
And last but not least- vases, frames, plaques, and votives from our first faith-based collection for DEMDACO (called As for Me)!

 

All of these companies are entities of such quality and reputation. I can’t tell you how grateful we feel to call ourselves licensing partners with each of them. I will try to give you more peeks of the CONTENTS of these boxes soon!

As a side note, I have to say that while I might be enthralled with these deliveries, Coolidge does not share my same sentiment. He is not at all happy about the rumble of the delivery truck approaching our home, or the intrusion of this belligerent person through our gate and onto our very property (what nerve!). Coolidge seems quite convicted that he has made himself entirely clear to these delivery people with ferocious barking on numerous occasions communicating that they are not welcome. And yet they still come back; this really perturbs him and makes him increasingly more upset. He is above their doggie-bone bribes; they seem to insult his intelligence. And even after the truck has left our curbside, he is quite suspicious of the foreign objects they leave behind.  Perhaps in a different set of circumstances, he would have been a bomb-sniffing dog. He certainly shows the aptitude. But despite his vociferous nature he shows towards everyone else, he is just the dearest companion to me. It gives me a little internal chuckle, knowing that this tough-guy, alpha image is just a cover for the sweet softie that he really is.

 

A Nook for Making Messes

All of us artist types need a little alcove for making messes. Pictured here is my said alcove. It’s just the laundry basin in my studio, but it is a sanctuary to me and my messes because it conveniently offers a water source for thinning my water based paints and mediums, and for cleaning and caring for my brushes after they perform their dedicated duty of applying paint to surface. A kitchen cutting board cantilevers over the basin, supported by only two sides of the sink, but still manages to  provide a fairly sturdy flat surface for my favorite and most frequently used items. It also allowed for me to make a spot for the wildflower bouquet my daughter and nieces picked for me from our canyon. Humble sea lavender, yellow oxalis, and orange nasturtium make a simple retired jam jar quite the jubilant celebration!  That invasive yellow oxalis, barges in on every vacant field this time of year, and the empty lot next to our home is no exception. But I don’t mind, because to me even this oxalis weed represents the commencement of spring! From the looks of my basin (picture at right), the nasturtium must have inspired some my current palettes!

The last few weeks, with some deadlines behind us and other deadlines afoot, I’ve been spending more time with a brush in my hand. I’ve definitely missed it, and while the majority of our surface designs seem to take place on a Mac these days, getting intimate and manual with my art helps me to think of our product development and surface designs from a different angle.

I actually started painting in the summer of 5th grade, when my mom charmed a group of senior-citizen oil painters to allow me to join them in their group studio up the street. They warmly entertained me that summer despite a good 50 year plus difference in our ages, and they mentored me and seemingly managed to inject paint into my very veins and beating heart. And for some time, I was partial to those creamy, thick, rich oils. Oil-based mediums were my proclivity, until that is,  my high school art teacher Mr. Genberg (who I understand is still teaching at my alma mater, Whittier Christian High) introduced watercolors to me. I think that was when the soft, fluidity of this medium captured my heart. When I was younger, I could be quite lazy about the clean-up too, so I’m sure that aspect of the water based mediums was a huge allure. (The harsh turpentine and Phelps Naptha soap that hearkens back to my oil painting days, may actually be something I can blame for my worn-looking hands! I can actually almost smell it even now.)

These days I’ve been playing with goache a bit more.  I love the lush, velvety colors they furnish and opacity control it affords, while still having the fluid-ease of its sister, the translucent watercolor. Mixing up the mediums, brush thicknesses, and paper and surface types is half the fun, and keeps me imaginative and fresh.

So please go pick some wildflowers… try some new mediums and let those wildflowers inspire a new hue (like bright nasturtium orange or vivid oxalis yellow, or sea lavender purple) …find a nook to make your mess and celebrate spring! It’s probably bursting in vivid color somewhere right out your door!

Ladies of the Canyon

This morning I was up before the dawn. In the stillness and darkness, I set my teapot to boil. There alone in my kitchen I took in the delicate noises of the canyon: the chirping of songbirds heightening into greater crescendos as the light of the rising of the sun increased...intensifying in tandem. Off to my studio to get some more work done, it seemed only appropriate to put Joni Mitchell’s Ladies of the Canyon to play in my my iTunes library. And there in the dim morning, Joni and the birds were my muse.  I imagine myself as one of these ladies of the canyon, Trina, Annie and Estrella,  that Joni melodically describes:

Trina wears her wampum beads
She fills her drawing book with line
Sewing lace on widows weeds
And filigree on leaf and vine
Vine and leaf are filigree
And her coats a secondhand one
Trimmed with antique luxury
She is a lady of the canyon

Annie sits you down to eat
She always makes you welcome in
Cats and babies round her feet
And all are fat and none are thin
None are thin and all are fat
She may bake some brownies today
Saying, you are welcome back
She is another canyon lady

Estrella circus girl
Comes wrapped in songs and gypsy shawls
Songs like tiny hammers hurled
At beveled mirrors in empty halls
Empty halls and beveled mirrors
Sailing seas and climbing banyans
Come out for a visit here
To be a lady of the canyon

Trina takes her paints and her threads
And she weaves a pattern all her own
Annie bakes her cakes and her breads
And she gathers flowers for her home
For her home she gathers flowers
And Estrella, dear companion
Colors up the sunshine hours
Pouring music down the canyon-
Coloring the sunshine hours
They are the ladies of the canyon

The music transports me and the work flies by.
And I realize how so very grateful I am for this small slice of coastal canyon in this OC suburbia.

Two Heads Far Exceed One

I’m a pretty social person by nature. I like people.
I like friendship.  Human connection is something I crave.
And yet, the demands of my job, and motherhood, and my marriage have often left me feeling like I have no time or energy at the end of the day to offer my friendships.
And that’s just wrong. And I know it. I keep contemplating about how I am going to go about fixing this. My feeble attempts to this point have been sort of fruitless. Maybe that’s because they were just that: feeble attempts...feeble being the operative word!

Luckily, I get to work with someone who I can also call a friend. Maybe having my employee be someone that I’m also close to is not very professional….it is certainly not very corporate. But you know, the companies that I most enjoy working with are those that have a warm, family feel. I think that is rare in this day and age. And I want those rare obscure gems in life.

My hubby thinks Beth and I are so complementary because we are so like-minded. He jokes that we are from the same ilk. It is true that we share a Danish heritage (hers Larsen, mine Levsen and Jensen) and the strong work ethic that comes with that. We share Mid-western roots (hers Minnesota & Illinois,  mine Iowa) and a deep and strong desire to love and serve the Lord…. to do good and to be good.  But I also think we are so complimentary because of the ways we are different and the skills that we each have that the other lacks.

Beth brings her baby, Christian, to work with her, and we don’t punch a clock.  Sometimes she gets in at 8:30 and other times it’s after Christian’s first nap at home. My kids and dog run in-and-out of the studio (with a particular bravado after 3 o’ clock). Our studio floor is sometimes an obstacle course of my kids’ shoes and socks all a-scatter with a portacrib and exersaucer along the way.

I often wonder if we should really be looking more closely at hours billed for our manufacturers to take a look at how profitable we are being and how that might be enhanced….and we probably will have to do this soon. But you know what? I love that we could have the heat of a deadline huffing hot breath on our necks but we still take time for a bagel run at the Bagel Shack ( "two SanO bagels with cucumbers added, please!" )….or to interact with Christian… or to stop and pray. I don’t think we would be nearly as productive or artful if we didn’t have those reprieves.

Flying in the face of my social nature, there are those times though, when I do conversely yearn for quiet solitude: So I can hear my own thoughts again…so I can hear the voice of God…so I can retrieve those creative ideas from the vortex in my brain.  And sometimes my work requires it. Like right now. The manuscript for my next book is due soon,  looming ever-closer. And I have found that writing for me, is an entirely quiet and cloistered process. Sadly, I can’t gather my thoughts and write when Beth is here. It's not just Beth though, I can’t write even with Gerry around. It is something that requires my full focus. I can get obsessive about it, actually, but that is what I find is demanded of me to get it done and get it done to my standard.

So as I carve out my perfect monastic environment for writing,  Beth is at her home finishing out some straggling deadline work. It’s so great to have this dynamic duo effect. When one of us is forwarding one project, the other can be forwarding another. We edit each others’ work. We are an ever present sounding board for the other. I’d like to think this makes our art and product just that much better.

My father-in-law, Pop Liken, a very successful businessmen to this day, has often said that one of the keys to success in life is to not be afraid to surround yourself with people that are better than you…that are more talented than you.  I have really found that to be true in my life experience. When you surround yourself with people that stretch you and that can teach you…where you can exchange experiences…that is when the richest experience is yielded and when the best is brought out of everyone. I want to teach my kids that!
That two are better than one. Don’t isolate yourself. 
Don’t let insecurity prevent you from befriending people who are more accomplished than you.  Be teachable. Be flexible.  Share the credit where credit is due. The accomplishments of a team working in tandem can be so much more significant than one person struggling along on their own. 

The sign says it all...

Last week I had the immense joy of celebrating two birthdays.

The first (which picks up where my last post left off) was *the* actual birth day of Zelda Genevieve. Oh! How I wish I could be there to hold this sweet thing!

Luckily,  Melissa’s photography helps me to feel very near to Baby Zelda despite the distance. With her lens capturing every eyelash, each crease of the hand, and the precious curling newborn toes,  I can almost feel that soft baby-skin. But her lens has magically collected more than just that! It’s the emotion,  the connection, and the sum of those details that make these hospital photos special.

Zelda arrived after one hour of labor, and even more quickly secured a spot in the hearts of her parents, Dale and Jenny and her big brother, Nathan.

The second birthday celebration last week was my daughter’s 11th birthday. Can it be 11 years already since my labor day with my own baby girl?!

A day at Disneyland and a girlie slumber party filled our weekend with appropriate celebratory glee and gladness. I know all too well that the next 11 years will fly by even faster, and these days of roller coasters and giggles and ice cream and face painting will be behind us all too soon. And because of that I make no apologies for gushing over newborn babies and taking part in the sweet silliness of being childlike!

WISHING I WERE IN GRAND RAPIDS TODAY

My dearest of friends, Jenny, (aka Professor Jennifer Williams at Calvin College and fabulous Faith Books contributor) is delivering her precious baby daughter today.
While we toil away at the studio today, Jenny will be toiling towards something much more worthwhile: an addition to her family. Beth and I are there in spirit and our prayers are with Dale and Jenny today.

Over the weekend,another dear friend, Melissa Diekema (also an artful conributor to Faith Books gracing it with her amazing photography),  captured this touching shot of Jenny’s sweet son,  Nathan, snuggling up to mom and his sister in vitro. If you are fortunate enough to live in the greater Grand Rapids, MI area you really should take advantage of having this fabulous photographer at your disposal!

HEARTS and FLOWERS and other REFLECTIONS ON VALENTINE’s DAY

Oh! I had such plans for Valentine’s Day….plans to make swags and festoons from our Anthology: Juliet Collection…plans to create an ambiance of fantastical romance for my sweetheart and I to share. In the end, it was a simple celebration with little paper-crafting playing a part. A demanding week of heated deadlines and kids’ activities tugging me in different directions led me to think of the holiday in simpler terms: appreciating the enormous love in my life!

That night, Ger and I shared a casual meal at a favorite hang-out, Pacific Whey Café,  while our daughter rehearsed with the honor choir and our son labored over a book report at home.

The little things that made that night memorable were:

-belly laughs shared with Gerry.
I love that he makes me laugh…the kind of laughter that makes me tear up and makes my side ache. He had me splitting a gut that night.

- finally lighting these incredible sugar cookie biscuit candles.
The scent was amazing! They were a gift some weeks ago from Genine (former owner of Paper Mouse and current class coordinator for Scrappin’ in the Hills) and I’d been saving them for the Valentine’s holiday. Thank you, Genine! (They are Gold Canyon Gourmet candles...beautiful with a scent so real and strong!)

- A hand picked bouquet from my hubby.
I think one of the things that I love about Valentine’s Day, now more that ever, is that I have a husband who knows me. I have a husband who knows my favorite colors and my favorite flowers without asking or being reminded. I have a husband that will take the time to create his own special bouquet for me that reflects that he knows all these details….not buying some generic bouquet that was pre-made, but one that he assembled with thought and by hand, with the tulips I adore (the ones that are so deep a shade of plum, they are nearly black)…..with tall showy stems of blue and lavender delphinium…and a few fragrant roses for scent… and heather to fill (*not* baby’s breath, but heather, very important….makes me think of another favorite: Bronte's Wuthering Heights!)


How sweet it is to be loved by you, Ger.

(Incidentally, I’ll be listening to James Taylor sing “How Sweet it Is” tomorrow night, when I enjoy a night out with my sister at the Wilshire! Can't wait!)