a little about artfest

I must admit that no, I haven't unpacked yet. And, ahem, I am still in my pajamas this Thursday afternoon.

My heart is still full of the joy that was Artfest. The connection and the creating…this is what I will remember. I learned so much this year…especially about myself. I tapped into confidence, which in turn tapped into a sense of self-joy. Is that a phrase? Self-joy? Well, it seems to represent how I was and am feeling.

I was indeed twirling during Artfest just as I had been twirling the previous weekend.

And, just like the last two Artfests, I was too present in the moment to take photos. I guess I just wanted to experience more than document. I think we have to do that sometimes. Step away from the camera (or maybe the need to capture something to blog about it) and be with the people who surround us as we experience something, whether it was something out of the ordinary like Artfest or something a bit more everyday like sitting at a table eating lunch.

But, it is also a joy to document…oh yes it is. And, I have loved reading the posts on others' blogs about their Artfest experience and seeing their photos. People made the most incredible art this year. (Yes, this happens every year, but for some reason show and tell night just seemed full of more vibrancy and more people feeling brave enough to share their creations.)

After my first Artfest, I came back to this space and wrote about all of it in several parts. My head was just spinning with all the wonder that was my experience. Although I would like to tell you about my classes (I will take photos of what I created...I promise I will Jen) and why I love Port Townsend and so many other things, today, I am feeling more drawn to say this:

This year, Artfest was about me meeting me.

I had Annie Lockhart's class the first day and I decided to use a vintage hand mirror in my assemblage piece. Although that piece was hanging in my dorm room for the rest of Artfest, I felt as though I carried that hand mirror around with me and was constantly looking in it seeing my true self.

Through connecting with so many people…through the many conversations and the shared truths with Kelly Rae…through the moment when I heard Michelle's voice for the first time Wednesday and felt my heart widen…through watching the joy on Kelly's mom Carol's face after her first class…through the laughter until tears rolled down my face…through the deep friendship I feel when I spend time with Kim…through the "oh yes I totally get that" moments shared with Candice and Julie…through eyes meeting with understanding as I talked to my new blogging friend Kelly…through the shared meals with Diane…through the hugs with Blue Poppy and the immediate connection I felt with her friend Mindy…through the moments after class with Ali and Dona and Jill and Stephanie…through learning and chatting with Reisha (am I spelling your name right girl? email me and tell me please)…through the sunshine and the windy rain…through the "how are you?" moments with Misty…through the tears...through sitting on the floor in the dorm hallway sharing about classes and life and a common love for Theo's artwork...through the wise words of Susan…through the joy (and wisdom gained) that is time spent with Katie and Judy…through the commiserating over no heat or hot water…through the learning from Annie, Bee, and Nina…through the connecting with familiar faces like Ginny and Joyce and Sharon and Kristen…through so many other moments…through it all…I also connected with me.

I spend so much of my time alone that it took this year at Artfest, and the time spent with others, for me to get out of my own head and see myself.

Through the excitement and ups and downs and creating and connecting, I feel strong and grounded in the person I am becoming.

bits of today.

earlier today, i went to bed around 1:30 a.m. after a nice, long, "this is me" phone conversation over two mugs of tea with a dear friend.

i woke up to the smell of daffodils as the blue sky smiled down and filled my heart with lightness.

in the middle of my morning, a friend called to say that she was in my corner of town and wanted to have lunch. "yes. please. give me 15 minutes" was my swift response.

i have been waiting a long time to have a call out of the blue wanting to meet for lunch/coffee/tea/a hug/laughter/good conversation friendship here. (thank you.)

as the blue sky when i walked into the cafe became the northwest rainy grey sky as i walked to my car, i laughed as i walked swiftly to my car and decided not to stop and take a photo of a gorgous blooming something.

my dad called to check in and share an idea he had for me. getting these middle of the day "how are you" calls from him is nice.

millie sighed with irritation about five times in her neverending quest to sleep next to me on the couch as i work. finally, i gave in for a bit. her gloating, knowing sigh sealed the agreement we have that she has my number.

in between editing and moving files, i continued soaking and laundering my rummage sale finds that will soon become creations from the little room.

i put on the kettle for tea, and as i poured the hot water into my mug, the sun came out again, so i went outside to join it for a bit as a robin, two chickadees, and a junko sang their joy of its return.

and as i took in all that is today in this life i live, this is what i know, at least in this moment. the push and pull of life can be exhausting and push me to places and thoughts and fears that i do not want to live inside let alone pass through. yet, i keep going. i begin to allow myself to see these pushes and pulls as nudges instead of tornadoes. i find that if i share the pieces of who i am and what i am experiencing with someone else, i can see deeper into the truth of my life instead of trying to adjust to the blurry shadows that do not want to reveal what they know. and when i see this truth, i remember that life is good. i am okay. we are okay. the lightness of the blue sky shining morning is a part of me even when the grey comes back.
i will not forget.
the lightness lives inside me.

do.

Somewhere
among
wanting,
hoping,
hiding,
breathing,
resting,
healing,
dancing,
realizing,
giggling,
sighing,
believing,
and
knowing,
I sit
quietly
doing.

Over the weekend, we tackled organizing the little room, my studio. It has been an 18-month on again, off again attempt to find what works for me.

Three trips to IKEA in 30 hours and lots of patience from Jon later I had a project table.

One wisdom tooth extraction and many mugs of tea and several bowls of cottage cheese and cups of pudding and a couple days later, I began to play.

The year of the do.
This is what this is.

today...a shift...a smile {self-portrait challenge}

Sitting in the dentist office waiting room today, I started writing a blog post in my journal that was full of some of the thoughts swirling around my head lately. Thoughts about how one balances the good and the shit and how hard it is to rest in the midst of all that life throws one's way in any given moment, day, week, year. Since early November I have been to the dentist more times that I can keep track up. The days prior to a dentist appointment are filled with tummy problems and nervousness and dread. At my second appointment, the one where you sit there after your cleaning and the dentist and the assistant talk about your teeth in a language you do not know as though you are not there and write down all the problems you…your teeth…have…at that appointment, I burst into tears. So overwhelmed by all of it. Full of such shame and sadness and a little anger. And, as I explained why I was crying: not because of fear of the dental appointments to come or the tools or the drilling…no, I said, I am crying because I feel such shame that my teeth are like this.

(And in that moment, in my head I was saying…I feel such shame because I smile so big and can't help it but I know that when I smile people can see the discoloration on my teeth. I feel such shame because of all the reasons that are no ones fault yet kind of everyone's fault that brought me to this moment in this chair with these tears. I feel such shame because there is no way we can pay for all of this. I feel such shame because I never told anyone how it felt that day I got my braces off and there was all that damage. I feel such shame because I am 31 and crying at the dentist's office. I feel such shame…)

There was so much I did not say. But, as I tried to breathe to avoid the threatening ugly cry, this new dentist said something...well...something pretty magical, "I think the self-abuse about this should stop today. You are here now. And, we are going to fix it."

So I brought Jeero the uglydoll to the next appointment and sat there for over three hours. And, the next appointment, which was an emergency appointment, I didn't bring Jeero, but I did have my playlist that soothed me while I experienced the joy that is an unexpected root canal. And, I went to the next appointment, and then to the one where the million-dollar crown was put on a tooth, and then to the next appointment where I listened to Steve Martin read his new book and sat for another three hours, and then to today's appointment…

Today.

Even though my head aches from the drilling and my gums are sore from the shots and my sinuses seem to have been a bit affected by all the numbness and all that is a dental appointment, I walked out of the dentist office with a smile on my face. I walked out into the raining sleet that is washing away the snow and felt light.

Today was the day he worked on my front teeth. My front four teeth look so good. They look good for the first time since…well…a long, long time. I feel such joy about it that the tears that fall as I type this are from joy, not shame. It is a good day…

And that one tooth…the one that was so damaged from my braces…the tooth that felt like a mark of shame. It is shining.

It is a good day.

And, yes, I do plan to write about some of the deeper stuff swirling around at some point. But, today, I just want to celebrate letting go of the shame.

Today, I just want to smile.

(see what else people are celebrating over at self-portrait challenge)

aprons and photos and sun and freezing coldness

taking apron photos outside.
freezing.
modeling my current favorite natasha apron just for fun.
wearing my husband's hat out of need.

yep.
this is me.

(what are you up to?)