Coming to Terms

Like everyone in the world, I have been trying to come to terms with the horrific deaths of children and teachers in Newtown, CT.  It would have hit home no matter where it happened but I grew up in Bethel, have friends in Newtown and have myriad memories of beautiful days spent there.

This does not tarnish my memories but grief ravages my heart to know that these lives were taken and innocence lost. It is mostly the innocence of children which comes to mind but I know it also encompasses the innocence of adults, too.

I responded to Barrie's post on Bloom this morning and found myself writing probably much more than she bargained for. Since I could not articulate my words and the path they took any better than I already have (nor do I want to delve back into the pain again to do so), I hope she will excuse my repeating them here. Be sure to go to her blog to read her thoughts, too.

There is no need to know why he did this unspeakable thing. It is totally inexcusable. For me, it is about the vulnerability of our minds and our children's minds and the effects of what we experience in this country where trauma is foisted on us by multiple 24-7 news feeds which turn tragedy into entertainment.

Over the past few decades, the United States has developed a fascination for violence that does not exist in other countries. Only here do we raise the criminals who shoot our innocents to an elevated status. We do not just report the news, we force feed it to the public over and over and over, flashing images of the perpetrator until his face is burned into our brains and his actions are graphically discussed or, worse, exhibited. Without realizing it, we also condone opinion in the guise of news. To fill air time, the topic is discussed ad nauseum until the reporter's opinions have crept into the story which then extrapolates it into fact in our minds.

Stores sell violent video games and the players get points for 'kills'. Children play these games. Played mostly in isolation, some can spend hours in front of the screen. Is there any wonder that they might become desensitized to the value of human life? Look at the television lineup. Our TV and much of our movie entertainment are comprised of crime and mayhem. A number of the reality shows do nothing to portray healthy family participation or competition with honor. Some TV shows resort to lewdness, ridicule and injury for entertainment. Even 'America's Funniest Home Videos' runs a laugh track when someone gets hurt. It is supposed to be funny. How awful.

Is it any wonder that we can list the mass murders by name easier than we can list the last ten presidents? That we know what Charles Manson did in detail but we may not know what Mother Teresa did for her country's people? Our country's values have morphed over time and are influenced by our environment and our society and what we accept as the norm in the media and play. We all have the means to follow our own special path. If we do so with creativity and compassion, we will be better for it. If we understand the importance of love and support for those around us, we will be better for it. I agree with you there.

There is no placating our psyches, though. It is not just about us healing from the damage wrought by this event. It is about what we choose to accept into our lives, to embrace wholeheartedly and what we do for others in our sphere. We need to face the things that have contributed to our society's unrest and its morbid fascination for violence. Until we move towards more healthful entertainment, this will happen again. Another person will grow angry and his anger will fester and he may see his shot at fame rests in violence. To make concrete changes, we must assess our own role in it in order to promote change within our families and our society as a whole. In order for us, our children and our society to grow with grace and compassion, we need to practice it ourselves and show, by example, that there is another way to live.

I know that I have been ranting a bit but it stems from me trying to come to terms with my own grief. I want to discover how I have contributed to this horrible phenomena by accepting the things which have become commonplace in our lives. My travels overseas have shown me that we have, indeed, become a nation onto its own in this matter. I feel sorry for that. No one action will turn it around. My challenge is to find more creativity in my life and welcome others into it through sharing my joy. If we create, we are not destroying. The two cannot coexist in the same action.

PS These are my opinions and I am still working everything out in my mind. One personal note I will share with you...on Saturday, I went to the memorial service of a close friend's mother. Sitting in the church with them, hearing stories about her life was uplifting and comforting. When they tolled the church bells 91 times, one for each year she lived, I lost it. Newtown's children only get six bells. I could not stop crying.

Pleasure Twice Felt

With its holidays and family gatherings, November seems like the shortest month of the year. We will spend Thanksgiving with my niece in Connecticut where family and friends gather and fill her house to the brim, a tradition she began when she and her husband moved into their new home. In January, a new family member will be born – the next generation to enjoy this joyful tradition.

Of course, then there is the big gear up for Christmas which follows and, in the case of commercialism, bumps heads with November’s (and sometimes October’s) holidays. The push is on for shopping, shopping, shopping – buy, buy, buy. My eyes narrow and I fast forward through commercials touting the latest gadget you must have or excessive spending you can ill afford. In light of the extreme weather and devastation along the east coast, it seems crass to be spending money on ‘things’ that perhaps no one needs just to give an expected gift.

Every year I fill seven stockings (all for adults who enjoy this most childlike pleasure of Christmas morning) so I will go out in search of little treasures to stuff inside them. This year, I will take a page from the practical stockings of years past and add some traditional goodies like oranges and fresh baked cookies.

Not being a shopper, per se, especially when pushed by aggressive advertising, I want to discover secret wishes or make something special for someone I care about. I am not always successful in this goal but when I am, the pleasure multiplies and draws me into its circle. Whether knit, stitched, baked or painted, I am the recipient as much as they are.

Giving is a pleasure twice earned when I spend my time rather than mindless dollars. I vow to enjoy this holiday season like I have no other…mindfully, giving thanks for blessings, prayers for the suffering and ill and savor gentleness within my household.

Some Things Never Change

Frye Measure Mill, NH

I got a laptop a few months ago to replace my old, sluggish desktop and give me freedom to write wherever I liked.  When I first transferred files to the new computer, I purged redundant photos.  Now, I am going through some of the documents.

This morning, I came across some journal writings.  While I prefer hand-writing them, there are times when my book isn't with me and I resort to computer entries.  One file, 105 pages long, was from 1993 when I still had Creative NeedleArts and would write at work after everyone left.  It was password protected and I had a moment of panic - that was nineteen years ago!  I had a universal password then and I tried it - I'm in.

Some things apparently don't change. My laments are pretty much the same.  That doesn't mean I haven't moved forward.  It just means that my creative concerns have a fallback reason for being.  Time and a plethora of ideas.

I constantly have ideas crowding my brain about other things to design and get into.... I am driven (but why?) to create new ideas; I'm just frustrated by the restrictions of time.  I keep pushing the parameters of time. 

I can guarantee that I have sung this song many times over the years.  My interests are expansive; my ideas for paintings, writing and needlework are like a fountain which never turns off.  I read voraciously.  I have messy closets.  I desperately need to have a yard sale.  My art supplies are ordered, though, so my priorities are straight in one respect.  

It occurs to me that a creative mind can be one's bane of existence as well as its blessing.  

Have I finally reached the point in my life when I accept the activity in my head, knowing I cannot act on all of it?  Writing down notes and ideas keeps them from disappearing in the crowd.  I can get them back to the top of the pile anytime I want.  

Relishing my varied interests is delectable.  Worrying over the lack of time to explore them all isn't.  Today I immerse myself in the ones on the top of my pile.

A Bit of Sun Among the Raindrops

Today has been blessedly sunny. Indian summer, perhaps. It seems like it has been raining forever and more is forecast for the weekend. I couldn't resist the temptation of the unexpected warmth and stayed home from work today to get started on readying the house for winter.  I made good headway but I am losing steam.  Perhaps a glass of wine and a comfy chair on the deck will do the trick.  I imagine it is time to stop anyway.

The lake below is ringed with vibrant color.  The lowering sun points out the brightest branches and shines its spotlight on them while allowing the deeper greens to fade into the shade. Reflections on the still water double the pleasure. I am entranced by the pockets of color and I pull my feet up under me to settle in and enjoy the view.

With all our travels this summer, the days have sped by. We have had a good time but now I feel like it is my time to hunker down and take care of the things I have neglected. Appointments are made, some of the broken items are getting repaired. Paperwork is sorted and (mostly) filed or shredded. I am amazed at how much I can accumulate in a few months!  Even though I have simplified my paper handling, so much still comes in.  Even email needs tamed.  Once solicited e-newsletters and postings have been unsubscribed.  My interests have changed and some have expanded in new directions.

I have been focusing on my book research in the past few weeks.  Most of my writing has been with pen in hand lately which is great for short jottings. Impressions and ideas, scenes and phrases for the novel flow unrestrained and I know I'd forget them if they weren't written down.  My little notebook travels with me - I never know when something will set me off on a path.  One word can do it. I am eager to see where it will take me.

October...ALREADY?

My focus this summer has been a creative one.  It started with a long weekend on the Cape painting at a cozy harbor in Truro. Family visits over the Fourth of July were sun-filled and blissful on the lake and at the beach.  A trip to the Adirondacks in August left us nature-saturated and rested.  We finished it off with long days under the sun on East Beach in Charlestown, RI and threw in a trip last weekend to Buffalo to see family and go to Bob's 50th high school reunion.

Hickory Hills July 4th Boat Parade

Needless to say, time flew.

When there is a lot going on, I have to make harder choices on what to do with the rest of the time. This summer, I spent my writing time working on my journal which has evolved into an art/memoir kind of book.  I love how it has expanded over this year and combines sketches, photos, watercolor and words.


Our new long-haired dachshund, Mario, loves adventure and riding in the convertible.  His limit is about 55 miles an hour and then he slides back along the window.  We have to keep a firm hand on his leash or I bet he would try to climb right out onto the hood for a better view.
Water is his other passion and will swim and explore, jumping from rock to rock, until he is shivering and must be bodily removed and wrapped in a towel (for which he is grateful until he warms up and is ready for another go at it).

The weather has been wonderful - summery hot with nice breezes.  Now it is autumn and the leaves are building wattage towards brilliant color.  Pumpkins and mums grace front porches.  The air is crisp and I need to go to the Price's barn in town and see if the first batch of cider is ready.  I will look for the table by the road with the jugs on it and put my money in the Cool Whip container with the rock on top.  Then I will know it is autumn for sure.

Quiet Musings



Close-up of a painting at Fruitlands, Harvard MA

 I relish the times when good music infuses me with pleasure. As I grow and mellow, though, quiet is a balm. I avoid most TV now and prefer books and 'doing'. With less time before me than behind and an appetite for so many activities, I need solitude to pursue my interests. Sometimes it is painting or writing but often it is the peaceful pleasure of sitting outside and just listening to my surroundings. Bliss.

A moment ago, I finished reading a post on A Design So Vast and added my comment to those of others who sound surprised at the changes their psyches demand as they grow older. A thread runs through each of their observations. Sometimes just being is the greatest solace of all.

Simplifying and streamlining, purging and organizing – many of us are looking at our lives with new eyes. I am fairly preoccupied with simplifying my surroundings. With so many interests, I don’t want to be using up my precious time cleaning and rearranging ‘stuff’ or letting it clutter the corners of my mind. Less stuff gives me a place for my eye to rest and an ease of home that is comforting. It is no less cozy but it is becoming calmer.

I’d like to feel the process will be done someday, but I know it won’t. Just as I have evolved from a cluttered, country décor, laden-Shaker-peg decorator to preferring a blend of treasured antiques and traditional accents, there will be more evolutions in my future as I downsize from the ‘big’ house to something, hopefully, antique and cozy in the center of a New England village. My favorite afghans and treasures will come with me and I will hang my paintings on the walls and scatter rugs on gleaming hardwood floors. If the season is right, I hope to bring starts from my garden to plant around the patio and front door. I like the continuity of bring a bit of the past with me, especially with living things. I have cultivated many a garden and plan to have the quiet time to dig in the dirt in my next incarnation.

Will my vision happen as I see it? More than likely. Affirmative visualizing often nets the expected results. A regular dose of quiet time to ‘see’ your heart’s desire will grow aspirations into reality. I should know. My early visions of my ideal home have come to fruition in this place on the shore of a lake in Massachusetts. The images in my head now show sun-dappled brick sidewalks and clapboard houses close to the cobblestone street. Compact but ample, the house is a cozy haven within walking distance of water, the library and small town shops where I can meet friends for breakfast. A flagstone patio in the small backyard is surrounded by color and a wide-branched tree shades the chair where I read.

Where is your ideal home? Who lives there with you? Walk through it room by room and visualize all the details, the yard, the street. Pick a day and describe it from awakening to end – the weather, what you are doing, who is there (it is startling to discover who is not) and write it down. Save your story and peruse it often. Make your vision a reality.

Ode to Summer's Mellowness

Summer is pure pleasure to savor and enjoy.  A video from Kinfolk, music by Sea Chant Production.


An Ode to Summer from Kinfolk on Vimeo.