Sayonara! 2014

The quiet in the house is eery.  The guys left early this morning on a road trip to Southern California for the next five days and I have the house all to myself.  Motherhood nirvana, right?  I have so many things on my to-do list while they're gone.

Watching the PBS documentary on The Roosevelts was at the top of my list, along with catching up with the last disc of Orange is the New Black.  Oh, and Magic Mike.  Yes, lots of important DVD viewing is going to happen over here.

I used to start my new year with a four hour-long yoga class.  The instructor would ask us to write down our intention for the year on an index card and place it under our mat during our practice on New Year's Day.  My yoga instructor has since moved, but I still like to do the exercise of picking a word for the year and think about my intentions for the upcoming 365 days.

Last year's word, Acceptance, was a little vague.  I tried to focus on it, but found that opening myself up to new ways of learning, connecting with new friends and putting myself out into the world creatively did, in fact, help me accept what I am capable of.  But it all feels sort of calculated - like I'm bending my experiences to fit the word for last year.

Needless to say, I'm stuck on what word to pick for this year.  I'm going to let it percolate and see what happens.

I miss my yoga practice.  I should really do something about that.

Once I got home from work on Monday, I slipped into my comfy leggings, slipped off my bra and really hunkered down.  I had so much reading to catch up on - books, old newspapers, magazines, and blog posts written by friends and acquaintances.  

I was asked to contribute an essay to the 28 Days of Play series this coming February.  While I'm super excited about the prospect of writing and sharing my work, I was a little bit daunted in trying to find a head shot that would be appropriate and then writing my own bio.  As I'm sure most moms have experienced, I do not have a lot of photos of just me.  Seriously.  Out of about 4,000 photos, I had about a dozen of just me and only about two of those would possibly work.  

My new year's intention should be get in the frame!  

Where was I?  Oh, yes, the writing.  I was supposed to be writing while the guys were gone, but I often find that when I have deadlines, self-imposed or otherwise, I have to get my house in order.  Does that happen for anyone else?  Like, I have to organize my desk and write in my journal.  The simple act of writing quotes or illustrating a few pages in my journal feels like a mind-dump.  As I'm putting things down on paper, the creative wheels are spinning in my head and I'm having conversations with myself about writing and the project itself.

I finished reading Annie Dillard's book The Writing Life late last night.  So many thoughtful  ruminations on the process of writing in those pages.  Process is so important to me.  I have to enjoy the process of most anything I do or I don't want to do it.  Writing, making art, exercising, decorating, cooking - everything has a process and I'm learning to hone in on what I like about those things and really give myself permission to slough off the chores or acts that I don't enjoy.

Take letterpress printing, for example.  I love the look and feel of letterpressed works.  The craftsmanship and finished product is so good.  I took a workshop a few years ago at a local letterpress co-op and by the end of those four hours I knew I never wanted to step foot into a letterpress workshop again.  Don't get me wrong, I loved all the fonts and presses and thick, rich card stock.  No, where they lost me was with all of the tiny letters and tweezers and exactness of it all.  It's helpful to know what you do and do not like doing.  Admitting it was new to me and quite a revelation.  I loved letterpress as an art form, but not an art form that I would personally make.  Yes, I am a fan and will happily pay the premium for fine, letterpressed artwork made by someone other than me.

Okay, now I've gone off on a tangent.

Process.

Yes, it's all about process for me.  Process and documentation.  Processing it in my head and then verbalizing it and then writing it down somewhere (on my blog, in my notebook, in my art journal or in a Word document saved on my computer).

After a restless night of sleep, I finally decided to get showered (yes!), get dressed and get out of the house on New Year's Day.  I drove up the coast to the seaside town of Jenner and got caught up with a girlfriend.  We took a short walk along the Russian River shoreline and sat on the rocks and soaked up the sunshine during low tide.  She asked for my phone and snapped this picture of me because the light was like honey.

My first picture of the new year was of me.

Miracle of all miracles!

At the end of the five days, I was ready for my husband and son to come home.  I feel like I fed my creative soul while they were gone and had a lot of time to reminisce about all the good that happened over the last year - family adventures, a writing retreat, creative workshops, collaborations with writers and friends.  Our son changed schools this year and we stepped into the roles as parents of a tween.  So much growth happened within our family these last twelve months and I'm really proud of us for muddling through it together.

My house, as well as my mind, felt like it was in order.

Sayonara! to 2014.

I Heart Instagram

The living room windows are covered in a steamy, thick layer of moisture this morning.  I shuffle over to the xmas tree and plug in the twisted string of lights and a soft, golden glow gently permeates the space.  My body folds into the couch and I pick up my phone and peruse my Instagram account and smile at the bevy of images being shared in that space - french toast fixings; a North Pole party; winter solstice offerings; snow-crested mountains; slate grey skies melting into perfectly calm waters; and a new puppy for a beautiful family mourning the recent loss of their beloved dog.

I've wanted to write about my addiction to Instagram for some time now, but didn't know what I really wanted to say.  The word addiction makes it sound sordid and taboo, but it's not like that.

Social media has so many negative connotations, but I love my Instagram community.  I do not want to apologize for it or be embarrassed by sharing pretty things in that little 2 x 2 inch square on the screen of my phone.

I get so much inspiration from fellow artists, writers, bloggers, photographers, mamas, poets, designers + the alumni of folks I attended Write Doe Bay with earlier this year.  I love it.  I really do.  

Instagram has been a positive place to share parts of my life with others.  No, I don't show the muddy entryway of my home or the messy sink full of dishes.  Some would argue that I'm not keeping it real, but I would say to them - Who wants to see that?  

Beauty is what I find when I scroll through my Instagram feed and that's what I also personally want to share.  I try to find the beauty in my life and what we're doing and share it with others.  Our life is far from perfect, but there are some pretty perfect moments that make me want to shout from the rooftops that I'm alive, healthy and living in this amazing world.  A wee bit dramatic, but I think you get the drift.

There is so much beauty…

The austere, real beauty of the natural world.   

Beautiful children laughing, playing, doing ballet or playing a sport they love.

Creatives bravely sharing the beauty of their work.

The simple beauty of food - satsumas, freshly baked bread or a steaming cup of coffee.

The beauty of the written word as shared by authors, readers, bloggers and publishing houses. 

The simple beauty of human connection and friendship.

I have found as the days tick into weeks, months, and then years, that I like being alone.  Once social and outgoing, I'm finding that I like the quiet of my home and take great solace in reading the words of others.  Since I am particularly visual, images and photographs amp up the words I read and Instagram links me to a small world of friends who share many of my interests.

My words + Grady's shoe

And while it's true that I won't let my 11 year old son have an account,  I do share images with him.  He was recently inspired to draw his Nike tennis shoes based on a post an illustrator shared on Instagram of her own son's work.

This avenue of sharing has helped me to stay connected with my sister, as well as friends and family  that live all over the world.  I only wish I could get my best friend and husband to use it.  It's not their thing, but I wish it was.

Instagram has definitely changed how I use my phone and how I share words + photos.  I used to come here to this very blog to catalog and record our life.  It's been harder and harder to do so.  Mainly, I think, because of the ease of using Instagram.  It's a way of sharing an abbreviated version of what's going on with me or our family, but I long to sit and write for hours at my desk and save on my blog.  Oftentimes, the day does just not allow for such indulgences.

A really lovely opportunity recently presented itself when a woman I met via Instagram, Rachel Cedar, contacted me and asked me to participate as a writer in her 28 Days of Play series this coming February.  This never would have happened if I hadn't been writing and sharing my life on Instagram.  I'm super excited and will share more about this project in a future post.

Earlier this year, the publisher of Mamalode, Elke Govertsen, asked me to collaborate with writer Annie Flavin and illustrate the centerfold for their print and online magazine.  Again, I don't believe that ever would have happened if I hadn't put myself out there; by sharing my daily drawings on Instagram.   Sarah Geurts Miller, Mamalode's managing editor, asked me to participate as a guest poster on their @mamalode feed on Instagram for their #dayinthelifeofmamalode series earlier this year, too.  Mamalode also published essays I've written online and can be found here, here and here.  The social network of Instagram easily merged our relationship and helped us to share it with readers of our IG feeds.  I'd do anything for those women running Mamalode.  Absolutely anything.

What I'm getting at is that a lot of good has come from my willingness to share on this social media platform.  And while I try to temper my usage, it's a source of daily inspiration and camaraderie with my fellow community of Instagrammers.  It has become this daily source of joy and I'm not inclined to give it up any time soon.

Opportunties and friendships were made this year through this social network and I'm really grateful for them. I hope more of that good fortune spills into next year and I know I'll be ready to receive it with open arms and, most likely, a phone in one of my hands.

I'm not embarrassed or ashamed.  

Not one little 2 x 2 inch square bit.

'Tis the [stormy] Season

Life has been so full lately.  I know this is true for everyone out there, but I just know it's especially true for women.  Among my girlfriends, I know we shoulder the brunt of the holiday list-making and gift-buying-wrapping-mailing-giving.  Sure, my husband does a thing or two to help keep me off the holiday crazy train, but it's mostly left up to me.  Now, don't get me wrong - I enjoy most of it, but sometimes it feels like it's just too freaking much.  

And so I really went into this month with the intention of doing less and being really present this season.  It's harder than I thought, but I'm feeling the benefit of it.  The first order of business was to lighten our December social calendar.  Declining invitations is a definite exercise in restraint (which is not really my forté) but, in doing so, I felt a big sigh of relief.  It was a start.

I don't know about you, but around the 10th of December I kind of start to freak out.  There are handmade items to cook, make & package up and get in the mail so loved ones receive them by Xmas.  

I love this part and I hate this part.  

Treats for the doggies in our lives :: recipe here

I love it because I get great joy out of ritual and tradition.  Creating things with our hands and gifting them to people we care about really makes me happy.  The pockets of time spent drawing or carving stamps become little gifts for me.  The conversations that spring from this merry-making often give me the little push to keep going.

Stationary sets :: we each carved a block to print with 

I also hate this part because I get all ratcheted up and stressed out.  It always seeps out and the passive-aggressive control freak in me unleashes on my poor family.  My to-do list becomes all important and I start to question why I do this to myself; to us.

Molly Wizenberg's Three Layer Peppermint Bark :: Amazing!  Make it. You won't be sorry.

Well, not this year.  

While I did feel a welling up of stress, a freak storm system rolled into Northern California and left us without power for 12 hours during massive wind and rain storms.  And let me tell you, I got some major shit done in 12 hours without any electricity and a dead cell phone.  For reals.

Top-secret Hecht family kahlua recipe :: even I don't know what's in it, seriously

School was cancelled for two whole days and that spilled into the weekend, making for four long, productive days at home.

Our dear friends and neighbors had a big bash over the weekend and that spurred some pre-storm shoe shopping.  Red satin heels ($8) and bronze knee-high boots ($7.50) were my thrift scores.  And, I gotta be honest, I kind of feel like Wonder Woman when I wear the boots and Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz when donning the red ones.

Printmaking is my new favorite thing, too.  Along with smiling.  

We made a print of 50 wonky circles for our friend's 50th trip around the sun.  All three of us carved up the stamps and used red screen printing ink on kraft paper.  The paper is special to me, as it was given to me at a writing retreat earlier this year.  I saved it for just the right project and it turned out just beautiful.

I can't believe it's almost the end of the year.  My drawing a day journal for 2014 is one of my most prized possessions.  The daily ritual was hard at first, but has blossomed into this almost meditative way to start my day.  Pens, paper and coffee at the kitchen table.  I'll write more about this project in a future blog post, but this journal is my new favorite.

This guy.

He's been wearing this sweatshirt (almost) daily since November 10th.  He thinks it's the best thing ever and I think it's kind of cute how much he loves it.  Don't get me wrong, I don't love it being worn every single freaking day, but think he's sweet and funny for wearing it.

I hope to burn it on December 26th.  Kidding.  Sort of.

It's still raining up here and the highways are intermittently flooded to and from town, depending on the tide.  Winter is upon us and the wet weather is so very welcome to all of us in California.  

All of the out of town packages are mailed and gifts have been made or purchased.  This week has been left wide open for movie-watching and cooking a big pot of soup.  I definitely feel like I've made space and time for our family this year, minus the small stress attack around the 10th of the month.

We cancelled our annual Xmas eve open house in our home and have opted for a quiet dinner with a couple of friends instead.  Again, stretching a new social muscle is hard, but I'm really looking forward to cooking this prime rib for the first time and beating everyone at Scrabble.  Ha!

The only holiday decorations around the house are a few scattered reindeer, a string of white lights in G's room and our Xmas tree.  It feels right this season.

Less really is more for us and not just a tired cliché.

It's been a slow lesson to learn, but I'm grateful for the time and space to swim in this new way of doing the holidays.  At first, I felt sad because G was getting older and I thought the magic would disappear.  Instead, we've been sharing words and feelings about the season and what it means to our little family.  

Last night, while driving home from town, Grady shared that he still believes in Santa, but kind of thinks we have something to do with it.  When I asked him how he came to that conclusion, he shared that we (his parents) have messed up on a few of our stories lately and that the prior year's Santa letters (that I save in our Xmas box) have handwriting that looks a lot like our handwriting.

Hmm.  That's weird.

He didn't want to fess up 100% about the non-belief and I think he did that more for me.  He knows how much I enjoy having fun with the season.  His wish list was short this year and he passed up the opportunity to go to the annual Xmas party where he usually sits on Santa's lap.  He told me sitting on Santa's lap would feel awkward and you know what?  I would have to agree with him on that front.

As always, I'm following his lead.

The last little project on my list was to paint a tree for Grady for Xmas.

Every year we make one another a handmade gift.  Last year, I failed to deliver on said gift and, therefore, I'm making good on it this year.  I let the busyness and travel plans interfere with the one thing Grady asked me for.

A painted tree.

Looking back at my blog, I see that he asked for a painted tree in 2012, too.  He gives me simple assignments because he knows I'm not the artist his father is!  Check out how Steve showed me up in 2010 with his parrot painting.

And so it's almost here.  Six more days until Xmas.

Merry Xmas, friends.