This little treat arrived in my mailbox a few days ago and reminded me of these:

It’s been a little while since I finished this little series of fairy dwellings, but I never fully shared them.

I had the most fun painting them, imagining the tiny beings inhabiting each little house, adding little found bits of string, beads, and twigs.

My favorite part might be the tiny feather…

Or perhaps these little shell beads.

And, okay, I do love the festive rainbow flags.

It was also a lot of fun to find them here, in the latest issue of Somerset Magazine. I hope you’ll check it out!

True confession: I’ve been struggling.

It’s not really a secret… generally, when I go underground and stop posting it’s because I am buried or overwhelmed (or, just maybe, a little depressed).

Lately, I’ve been all three.

My much-anticipated Goal Drive didn’t happen. I was hit by a big storm and an even bigger flu. That flu/head cold thing made it’s way through all my littles and then had its way with me and left me beat. By the time I dragged myself out of bed again I was depressed, behind, unproductive and sad. I stopped moving.

I sort of pride myself on having a high productivity rate. Oh, it’s not always measurable; in fact, it’s often not. Alongside a few finished articles and paintings, it’s more often about innumerable storybooks read, questions answered, and laundry folded – but between it all I have myself fairly well committed, and here in inkstitch-land things run pretty close to the wire… so it doesn’t take much of a slip-up for things to sort of, well, fall apart.

And then, sometimes, I fall apart, too.

This is a truth we’re all familiar with: It takes energy to gain momentum. It takes some serious oomph. Once you’ve got it, momentum is a generous and wonderful being; it can take you all kinds of places. It’s an easy, benevolent force that brings life to the party and water to the well. It’s a friend to laugh with… but sometimes it deserts you. Sometimes it drops you right on your ass just when you need it the most and leaves you dirty and cold and sitting in some dark place covered in snot and tears wondering how you’ll ever get moving again.

Which, I’m sorry to admit, is exactly where I’ve been. Weeks of big-project-burnout-then-holidays-then-illness robbed me of my momentum and left me bereft. I got feeling so barren and behind that I couldn’t possibly fit “Create” onto my To-Do list, let alone shop listings or tidying the studio. The longer it went, the more impossible it seemed, but I hadn’t the energy to do a thing about it.

These are the times it’s important to call up this equal but even more important truth that perhaps you didn’t know: Sometimes it takes momentum to gain energy.

Sometimes when your energy has left you, all you have to do is move, just a little, to bring it back.

You don’t have to do the whole dance; you don’t have to know the ending or perform the whole show. All it takes is a tiny wiggle. Momentum wants to work for you. With even the slightest nudge, it has the awesome ability to spring up and start running right where you left off, bringing with it new life and fresh air and a blessed rush of good energy. A small step can make a big difference.

This here, this is my wiggle: Today I got paint on my hands. I didn’t create a masterpiece; I didn’t try a new technique or complete a painting. I didn’t set out with any goal at all except “make a little mark.” With school work to be done and mud on the the floor and dinner waiting at the other end of a take-out line, I put paint on a sheet of paper and let it dry. A single step, that’s all.

But that’s all it took for momentum to pick me up and carry me the rest of the way.

I’m still “behind” (I probably always will be), and if we want to continue with the confessions, I’d have to tell you that the muddy floor got mopped with a wet-wipe and that’s probably all it will get this week. Yes, sometimes I think I don’t have the time or energy to create. But that’s okay; that’s when I need the paint on my hands the most. That’s when the littlest movements can make way for some big, gorgeous energy.

Love that.

I always run a little late for the New Year.

I make it to the celebration alright. I party with friends on New Year’s Eve, or play board games or host charades or whatever the evening brings. I bang pots and pans and shout and whistle and kiss my sweetheart when the ball drops in Times Square… I’m just never quite ready for the beginning.

I spent a lot of years feeling “behind” because of this, hustling my way through that last bit of holiday hubbub, trying to fit everything into the final week of the year, desperately seeking quiet time for reflection and goal-setting despite the overly full house and the family-themed schedule.

{It never worked.}

The easy answer would have been to let it go — something I need to practice anyway — and become one of those anti-resolutionists; the folks who feel new year goal-setting is a recipe for failure (’cause we just don’t need more failure in our lives, folks). After all, I can see their point.

But I like the new year. I actually really like Mondays. I like turning over a new leaf and starting fresh and trying again. I like new beginnings. Yes, I fail. {Lots.} But that’s why new goals and new starts and new ideas are so awesome.

Then several years ago, my husband and I created a better fit. After weeks of good intentions, we hadn’t managed that crucial space of time for reflection; February was upon us and we still hadn’t cemented any new ideas to fuel and guide our upcoming year. Yet years of experience had taught us that if we didn’t set our intention, the year would slip away in endless busyness and the progress we hoped for, the ideas we had, would not be realized. Something had to be done.

Thus began the annual Goal Drive.

When I say Goal Drive, I mean a literal drive, as in, putting rubber to the road. I mean six hours locked in the car with no playlist, no books-on-tape and no cell phone. I mean six hours in a small space with no one to talk to but each other. Six hours with the sole purpose of talking out what we need and how we can support one another.

Six little hours that power the entire year.

Our Goal drive always takes place in February. No longer do I beat myself up for letting the holidays be purely holidays, all about good people and good food. No longer do I fuss when January feels cold and slow a little sluggish and stubborn about it’s newness. Because now a pause and some hunkering down feels like the perfect role for that coldest of months, while February becomes a bit of a mid-winter jewel, bright with possibility, sparkling with snow and sun on the same day. When the holidays have faded and the routine has returned, when the cold snaps are fewer and the hope runs a little higher, February becomes the bright beginning.

That’s what I’m doing later this week. The car is all fueled, the fish tacos are waiting, and I’m ready to feel refreshed. It’s my kickoff and I’m excited. I’ll be back next week to share new things and get back to… well, everything.

Your Future is as Bright as Your Faith, Escape into the Open, and Take a Chance will be available in the shop this weekend.

Holee molee people, I am not gonna lie: November was rough. And awesome. And rough. And crazy-inspiring and full of lessons and so cool and incredibly awesome and amazing and enlightening and fun.

And rough.

At the beginning of this weekend I had 67 finished paintings of my goal of 90 — and there was no giving up… until I hit a head cold like a brick wall and the hubby said, Honey, you already did this.

And I realized… I did.

Final tally after 30 days of rock solid painting: 67 finished paintings and 19 paintings in some state from just-begun to nearly-finished.

You wanna know what 67 paintings out of a goal of 90 feels like?

It feels awesome.

It feels like I rocked this.

It feels like I more or less conquered the Universe. (Or more accurately, like me and the Universe, we’re soul mates now.)

It feels like I crossed the Sahara and parted the Red Sea and climbed Mount Everest; like I built a house, a skyscraper, the Panama Canal; like I hit the jackpot, made the winning play.

Like I broke the ribbon.

Honestly. It feels good.

There is no photographic evidence {Yet}. I promise to be busy making lots of photographs and uploads over the next several days to show you all the new paintings, but as it turns out, my limit fell somewhere after threebirthdays-hostThanksgiving-pulloutthegarden-gettheyardreadyforwinter-cleanoutthegarage-havehouseguests-sendtheboytoSweden-loveadozenkids-andfourdogs-cookdinner(atleast sometimes)-housekeeping(andmorehousekeeping!)-deadlines-financialfiascos-jobchanges-helpthefriendmove-visitteach-teachSundayschool-mama-sister-wife-friend and paintlikeacrazywoman but somewhere before Beautifully Photograph and Artfully Blog All New Paintings.

(I know you get it.)

And now, it’s after midnight (I said Monday, but it’s still Monday somewhere) and I’m here with my new website (Surprise! But with LOTS of tweaks left to make) and my giant stacks of paintings (I am sooo out of space) and my empty paint tubes (Dear Santa…)…

And a grin on my face.

Happy December, Lovelies. And thank you so much for all of your support.

xo

It’s December 1, and the beginning of December brings the end of my big goal. I’ve been offline for a couple of weeks, keeping my head down, keeping the work going. It’s been no small challenge: since I was here last we’ve had two family birthdays, the big holiday (we hosted!), and that farewell to the big brother (along with all the accompanying adjustments for the littles). The studio is a disaster! I haven’t finished ninety paintings (not even close), but I’m busy wrapping things up and I’m giving myself the weekend to see how I do (maybe even uncover the desk). As busy as it’s been, I’ve been having a blast!

I’ll be back Monday to give December a proper kick-off and to share some yummy stuff (I even have a book review, an interview and a giveaway in store!). Can’t wait to show you all the goodies!

Happy weekend, friends! xo

My 19 year-old son left for Sweden today. I won’t see him again for two years. The last bit of him I saw was that thin strip of skin on the back of his neck, and I watched it until it disappeared around the bend. Godpseed, Evan.

I’m seeking sun after a whopping 16 inches of snow in one storm left broken trees all around town. For a few days everything is cold, but sparkling and beautiful.

Weatherman says it will be slush by the end of the week, which is okay with me. My favorite way to do winter is to have a great storm followed by days of sunshine. I live in the perfect place for that, since we get about 60 inches of snow a year AND about 225 annual sunny days.

Which, of course, is great for painting.

{For 30 days in November I’ve committed to a bold goal: to complete 90 canvases in just 30 days. You can read all about the project here and you can see all the finished paintings here.}

We”ve closed up the first full week of my big goal. Here are a few of the things I’ve learned so far:

1. I used to be ambivalent about gesso. Not anymore. Oh, how I love gesso! Thick gesso! {And yes, brand matters. My favorite is this one.}

2. I’m going to need more gesso.

3. I also really love thick paint. I’m going to need more of that, too.

4. Even with acrylic, thick paint makes for some loooong dry times. I have to work on six – eight paintings at once to keep a groove going.

5. Keeping a groove going in a zoo is a really tricky thing. I’m giving myself permission to admit this aloud, so I know I’m not *actually* crazy when I feel like I’m going kinda crazy. :)

The photos: Day ten, canvases ten + eleven. Seventy-nine paintings to go.

{For 30 days in November I’ve committed to the bold goal of completing 90 canvases in 30 days. You can read more about the project here, and you can see all the finished paintings here.}

The gremlin is screaming today. It’s very dark and rainy here, and maybe the juxtaposition between what’s outside my window and the bright world in these paintings is too much for her to handle, because she’s telling me they’re crap.

Ha. I’m posting them anyway. That’ll show her.

{Thanks for looking! xo}

(Linking up with Art Every Day Month and Paint Party Friday. Check ‘em out!)