A painting in progress and the progress of painting

This painting is inspired by psalm 121: 

   I lift up my eyes to the mountains—where does my help come from? 

  My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth.

This is in progress and there is still much to do before its finished. It is a slow process of learning (again) how to paint. When I was a younger gal without kids and a husband and home to care for, I didn't make art. I was just far too self conscious. Now that the desire to paint is swelling up inside of me so strongly that I can no longer ignore it,  I struggle to find the time. Oh, the irony.

But I am beginning to think that lack of free time is conducive to my creative tendencies! Typically when I first paint or draw something I really dislike it. All I can see are the flaws and my inner critic
picks it apart until there is nothing left but dry bones. I want to walk away from it and never look at it again. Many a time my attempts at art didn't make it past this first stage of creation; I gave up because the created thing looked so foolish and ugly to me.

These days the inner critic doesn't get a lot of opportunity to destroy my art. I paint for a minute or two or an hour at most, but then life calls: the children, dinner, dogs, etc. I must get up and move on. The inner monster might still voice an opinion of disgust over the "ugly" thing I've made but there is no time to dwell on it. Days may go by before I am able to sit down to the painting again. By then, I see it differently: it doesn't look so bad or I see what needs to be done next. Ironically, I think its having the children that has made it possible for me to finish paintings lately. I think I work better in small doses, when I am able to ride the creative impulse with pleasure and get up and move on before the monster of doubt appears to pick it clean. Also, life is very short and moving quickly. I don't want to miss out on the sheer pleasure of making art anymore. I feel very blessed to have a few minutes here and there to add a touch of golden green or a wisp of cloud.

I have given myself the guideline of allowing scripture to inspire my paintings, as a framework and a jumping off point. Its quite wonderful as scripture provides more than enough beautiful points to jump off from. Despite having this structure I still struggle about how to interpret the scriptures into art. I have gone at it three or four different ways now. First, I was painting a scene, then adding the text digitally over the paintings. Although, this is certainly an easy way to do it, I wasn't thrilled with the look of the digitally words over the painting. So recently, I tried hand lettering and making the hand painted words be the focus of the paintings rather than the images. That was unnatural to me and challenging in an unproductive way. I started three paintings over three times each trying to get the words and spacing just right. One painting will never be finished because I abandoned it all together. Now I am back to allowing the visuals drive the painting and I am still meditating on how to incorporate the scripture. What do you think?

Each painting is helping me to get closer to who I am as an artist. With each new painting, I am learning something about what I want to make and what my heart wants to see. This latest painting is the one that feels the most authentic to me. The one that feels closest to what is in me and really wanting to come out. 

Little Traditions

Cooking Burgers over the fire pit makes the world's best, BEST burgers.. a Daddy's day off tradition.

 

Star Gazing by the fire in his jammies.

Eating at Daddy's restaurant every Friday is another little tradition.

Our kids have had so much practice eating at a restaurant over the last 2 years, 
they are amazingly good. 

 We always get compliments about how well behaved they are:).

Daddy's Day Off

 

  A relaxing day off is a rare thing around here. Because Gabe still (!) works 70 hours a week , there is always way too much to get caught up on when he's off. After all the house work type stuff is done and the errands are run, then we try to squeeze in some fun family time. Well, yard and house work be damned (excuse me!). It was high time for us to do something truly fitting for a day off, so we went for a picnic and swim at Triple Falls in Dupont State Forest and played games before bed and didn't mow the grass.

Dickinson Family Gathering

We had the opportunity to see all of Gabe's brothers and sisters together this weekend along with all of their respective spouses and children. I have so much I could say about the dynamics of such a big family. But as with all things lately, I just don't have the energy to put it into words. So I am going to keep with my trend and post a few pictures instead.

Barbara (Mom, Nana) with all of her children ( listed from the oldest who is 36 to youngest who is 23): Jessica in the red dress, Hope in the white shirt, Leah to the left of Barbara in grey, Jacob with sunglasses on his collar, Noah with sunglasses on, Gabe in the Piazza shirt, Micah right behind Barbara. (Gabe looks a little weary here; there were LOTS of pictures taken.:)

Barbara with almost all of her grandchildren ( We are missing Hailey, Micah's daughter who is in California). There 19 in all, with 2 more on the way. Gabe and I are expecting another baby in March and Hope and her husband Raul are expecting their first in December.  The ages of the children range from 5 mos to 16 years old. Cute family, huh?

  ♥The Dickinson that matters the most to me.♥

Two Days Off

Gabe had two days off in a row this weekend! Whoo! It was a first since starting his current job at Piazza. Since all of our days off in the previous months have been consumed with renovation, work around the house, packing, moving and house hunting, we were determined to make these days truly fun and restful.

On Sunday, we started the day by going to church. ( We haven't been in months also due to his job). We tried a new church and it was pretty great. I miss being together in worship, having fellowship with other believers and most of all hearing God's word taught and explained to me in an inspirational way. I hope it works out for us to visit this church again. Then we had lunch and came home for a long nap in the air conditioning of the apartment.

For dinner, we headed to Etowah to visit Gabe's family. Its also been months since he's spent time with any of them. We had a really sweet and fun time cooking out, eating and talking with people we love and miss a lot.

Our children really couldn't be happier than when they get to spend time with any of their 22 cousins (20 on Gabe's side, 2 on mine :) Gabe's oldest sister has 8 children, 6 of whom are boys. Elijah loves to play rough and tumble and rarely gets to truly cut loose with children of his own age. For the safety of others, he is usually required to play in toned down and more sedate fashion than he's naturally inclined. But with his boy cousins he wrestles, chases, tags, tackles, hits, kicks, drags to the ground and generally goes all testosterone! I was happy for him; its fun to see his true enthusiasm and toughness be allowed to come forth. I could see they were all hurting each other at times, but they were also laughing and kept going back for more. So I let him have the opportunity to be ALL BOY and I stayed out of it.



























Adah also loves a little wild play. She was thoroughly amused by running around in circles, falling down on the ground and rolling down a hill together with the little ones. At one point, I was a little concerned for her safety because she was laughing so hard, she was having a hard time catching her breath.

On Monday, we had a family day adventure. We decided to be tourists and took a 20 mile drive to Lake Lure. We spent the day baking in the hot July sun on the shore of the lake, swimming, splashing, and picnicking. What a blast! I really felt like we were out of town on vacation for a few hours.

We were all so happy to have some down time together. 

We made some good family memories, too. Good Times!

Easter Cuteness

Hot Air Balloon Festival

Every year, the small city where my parents live, Anderson, SC, hosts a hot air balloon festival. Elijah and I experienced it last year and were so excited to see it again this year.

It is such an amazing sight to see so many hot air balloons inflate and take flight at once. There were 25 at this year's event.  The children loved the breathtaking spectacle of colors: each balloon brightly and uniquely patterned; and of sounds: the roar of the fire as it fills the balloons, the cheers from the onlooking crowds as they take flight. Each part of the event is so neat to witness- the balloons slowly fill, and growing into massive rainbow orbs, gradually swelling off the ground, until the balloon handlers have to wrestle to keep it on the Earth for a few last moments until at last it is released, giddy (I imagine) passengers aboard, hover low initially, sometimes passing just overhead, then quickly climb into the sky and float away!

This is a bit picture heavy... I couldn't help myself:)

 

 

 

 

 

 

Anniversary

Gabe and I celebrate our 4th wedding anniversary today, June 11th.

We stand today, thick in child-rearing and home-building. Not a man and a woman. A man, a woman, a boy and a girl. Four years and a family.
Our marriage is young, already we are strained. We come together in worship once a week.
We speak His name daily. But, we do not pray as we should, nor repent and ask for forgiveness as we should, from each other or from God. We do not seek God, rely upon and lean on Him the way we should. We each struggle, over-burdened, trying to shoulder our load alone, so as not to lay more upon the other. It is not easy and our marriage is young.

Sometimes, it feels as if our relationship is ruled by and exists solely for providing for and protecting the boy and the girl. Who are we apart from the little people who come between us and always before us? Who are we when we are not climbed upon, clamored over? When we do not have to beg the boy to let us speak, or pry the girl from my breast, when we are just Gabe and Liz.

(And obviously, we love the boy and the girl more than words can tell and do not for a minute wish that they would grow and leave us any faster than they already are. No, not for one minute. We savor them.)

But, I do look with wonder towards the days when Gabe and I will have the space and the freedom to explore again who we are, not as Mommy/Daddy, but as man and woman.

I love and am in-love with Gabe. He is my man, my good husband, father of my children, provider, protector, friend and lover. The desire of my heart is to always honor what we vowed to protect and preserve: our love, our unity. I want our marriage to last, to outlast. To outlast the sleeplessness nights, the years of building-- career, family, home. To outlast the doubts and the fears, the pettiness and pet peeves. If we promise to maintain for the sake of the children only...

What will be on the other side of child raising? When the young ones are grown and gone... will we have built a solid love, proven and tested, ready for anything? Or will we be left, two people, lonely, together for the sake of pretense, bitter and angry? What can we do now to promise that we will be solid, stronger, even more in love when it is just 'Gabe and Liz', a man and a woman, again?

I wonder these things as we celebrate what feels like the fastest, most meaningful and fulfilling and yes, challenging, 4 years of my life.

I end this rambler with the poem The Man Moves Earth by Cathy Song:

The man moves earth
to dispel grief.
He digs holes
the size of cars.
In proportion to what is taken
what is given multiplies—
rain-swollen ponds
and dirt mounds
rooted with flame-tipped flowers.
He carries trees like children
struggling to be set down.
Trees that have lived
out their lives,
he cuts and stacks
like loaves of bread
which he will feed the fire.
The green smoke sweetens
his house.

The woman sweeps air
to banish sadness.
She dusts floors,
polishes objects
made of clay and wood.
In proportion to what is taken
what is given multiplies—
the task of something
else to clean.
Gleaming appliances
beg to be smudged,
breathed upon by small children
and large animals
flicking out hope
as she whirls by,
flap of tongue,
scratch of paw,
sweetly reminding her.

The man moves earth,
the woman sweeps air.
Together they pull water
out of the other,
pull with the muscular
ache of the living,
hauling from the deep
well of the body
the rain-swollen,
the flame-tipped,
the milk-fed—
all that cycles
through lives moving,
lives sweeping, water
circulating between them
like breath,
drawn out of leaves by light.

A Snow Day with Daddy

Another blizzard here in Asheville. We are up to the roof line with snow... snow forts, giant snowmen, snow shoes, ice skating... yep!

Nope. But we did get about an inch over night. Which for a 2 year, who knows no different, was great! Here are some pictures of Daddy and E. having a "snowball fight" and "sledding".

Getting bundled up.

Teaching Elijah how to make snowballs

Get Mommy!

Daddy hits Elijah with a snowball!

Elijah gets Daddy!

Our attempt at sledding without a sled

Back inside and playing Firemen.

Like Kings

O glorious king- sized mattress,
How capably you hold us: husband, wife, son and daughter.
Husband, I know you are over there somewhere.
O, how I can stretch. O, I can roll over,too.
Sleep, delicious sleep.
Wonderous, glorious king- sized sleep.


That's right. After many brutal months of clinging like barnacles to a ship full of squirming bed pirates, we bought a KING SIZE mattress and box spring.

We braved pouring rain to drive to Rutherfordton, an hour from our home, to buy used mattresses. We hefted these mattresses (no small task) on top our minivan, again, in the pouring rain. We endured much vomiting and car sickness, crying and fussing. Was it worth it? Yes, oh yes.

For some time now, I have maintained a chipper front for family and friends. Secretly, I have been battling a quiet depression. The constant, grinding exhaustion has taken its toll. Having reached a place of desperation, I insisted that despite pouring rain, despite the distance and not having an adequate way to transport such a huge bed, despite not really having budgeted the money and only weeks before Christmas, that we had to buy this bed, NOW. It was the first I'd found anywhere in our price range.

Elijah has never, never slept well. I could tell you of stage after stage of various forms of dis-functional sleep that we have endured with him. He outgrows one torturous phase and promptly enters another one. Now, he thrashes and screams, he has nightmares, frequent night wakings, he sleep walks and talks. He begins every night in his own bed and at some point ends up in ours. At two years and 4 months old, he has only slept through the night a handful of times.*
*(And don't you for second believe that we have not read every book on the subject of children and sleep; that we have not tried every method known to modern moms; and frankly, that we have not spent many nights, weeping and crying out to the Lord: "Please! Help the child sleep!")

Adah, 5 months old, still nurses through the night. This alone wouldn't be terribly exhausting. So, not to be left out, she has her own special little way to deprive us of sleep. Mrs. Adah, as Elijah prefers to call her, enjoys waking in the middle of the night for long operatic whale-like singing sessions. Truly, she sounds like humpbacks in heat. OooooooOOOOOOOOoooooaaaaAAAAAAeeeeEEEEEEEEAAAaaa!
On and on she goes, sometimes for hours, wide awake.

Occasionally, they work in shifts: Elijah awake for two hours, then Adah for two. Crafty little dumplings.

Gabe and I, beat down, have consented to whatever arrangement allows us the most sleep. Having them in the bed with us gives us the most sleep. Until now, it was fitful, uncomfortable, four-people- in- a- full- sized- bed sleep... but at least we were lying down.

Our new bed has given me hope again; I'd even say life seems worth living once again. Melodramatic? Not in the least.

In the new bed, I can get into any position I want. We all have room to roll over, to curl our legs up to our chests or tuck our arms under our chins, even to sprawl a bit, if we choose. This is the answer to a thousand prayers. No more sleeping stick straight, arms above my head, because there are children glued to my warm middle. No more spending long hours with one side of my body asleep and numb, unable to roll over all night.

And unless we add a fifth or sixth person in the bed, I feel like life is worth living again because sleeping well is no longer a long lost dream.

***Special warm, gooey, gushing thanks to Gabe, who, without hesitation, found the money during a particularly tight month, to make this dream a reality. I love you!****