​I am disappointed. For a few years now, I was brave enough to submit artwork for the possibility of showing in the Grand Rapids Festival of the Arts. Some years I've gotten in, some years I've won an award, and some years I've been rejected. Or in their terms...non-selected. But it feels more like rejection.

My mind knows that shows are like a collective artwork themselves. My mind knows that the juror is selecting a collection of pieces with a statement in mind. My mind knows that artwork is subjective. But heart feels my work wasn't good enough and I need to try harder...or more different...or better.

So the tug-of-war plays out between what I reason and what I feel.

What I know is that artwork is done by an individual for the purpose of exploring the medium and having something to say. Everyone's artwork has value. Everyone's artwork has a point of view. I created and submitted three pieces this year and none were accepted...or selected...but were rejected.

Sigh.

So, I take a breath, and tell myself what is true. I create art to for the enjoyment and challenge of it. I try to show or recreate something I see that is either intriguing, interesting, or beautiful. I create art for me, but I hope others find something in it that they see is intriguing, interesting, or beautiful in my work.

Artistically, my current focus is exploring the merger of line drawing and painting. I am energized by sketching because it is fast and more spontaneous and it says 'just enough' to make an impression. Making something highly rendered doesn’t entertain me anymore. I like seeing art that looks like there was exploration going on. I like lines and color and consider sketching as finished art, instead of a means to an end painting. But the fine art world doesn't tend to consider sketching as finished art, which is disappointing to me.

I have to remind myself that I am enough, and my artwork is my own statement. I need to worry less about external validation and to focus on exploring my own journey and see where it takes me.

I'm working on it.

​

Looking back on this past year, it was a year of growth and committment for me.

Health-wise, my body was learning a new way to function after two surgeries the previous year, and my immune system felt like it took a big hit. The first part of the year, my body was catching everything that came around. Instead of feeling like myself, I felt a deep fear wondering if I wouldn't get better or if this was the state of my body going forward. Being determined to give myself the best chance I could, I made a vow to myself to uphold my pampering routines. I also wanted to improve so I added in some new routines as well.

My morning routine always involved personal habits like stretching, yoga, quiet time, but then I added in the task of centering my soul and faith by listening to two different Podcasts each morning. I did that first thing before the day got busy. I also challenged myself artistically to draw people every day. I combined the two and listened to my podcasts as I drew. 

I do love to challenge myself, and that was a big one for me. Too often I'd reach for my phone first thing, and then the rest of my day would be busy reacting to news and tasks that need to be done. But instead of grabbing my phone to surf, I'd head to my drawing table, switch on the podcasts and beginning sketching. It felt really good to complete those tasks. If those were the only tasks I completed that day, at least I felt like I accomplished something.

I feel really good that I completed my yearly goals, and sketched people and listened to my podcasts every single day. I never missed one. I learned a few things about myself along the way. I learned that a routine is healthy for me. I need it. Making a habit cushions my life from the tough spots, and makes it easier since I don't have to think or plan...it just is a habit.

Listening to the podcasts connected me to a community of people that were doing the same thing. People I don't know, or would never meet, were listening and commenting on the same thing. We were connected to each other.

On my quest to get better at drawing people...I don't know...I feel like my final drawings weren't any better than my first drawings. I was hoping that after drawing people for 365 days straight, that I had improved. I don't feel like I have. But, if I had to, I'd say I am more comfortable drawing people. I realized that when people say we all have 'good days and bad days', that includes drawing as well. Some days I'd draw, and it is as if someone else is drawing through me. My drawings would be simple and strong and they flowed. Other days, picking up a pencil was clumsy and felt strained and I was not happy with what I was creating. That surprised me. I thought if I did it day after day, I'd just keep building skill.  But I guess as with drawing as with other things..I guess that's life.

Another thing I realized is that when I forced myself to draw people, that made me want to draw other things so much more. I wanted to draw landscapes and animals and anything else other than people. There is still a hesitancy to draw people because I don't feel like I am good at it. Or the drawings don't come out like I picture in my mind. 

So with that year complete, my goal for this year is to have no restrictions on what I draw. I will listen to whatever podcasts I want, whenever I want, and draw whatever inspires me. It is freeing. But I still have a habit of not picking up my phone, but to begin the day with gentle movement and stretching.

That past year, I challenged myself, and got through it. My body feelings stronger as well as my immune system. I am blessed with another day and another year. I do have some goals for this year. My goal is to teach what I love at every opportunity, so others can enjoy themselves too. And my other goal is to get my website up and running to sell my prints and artwork. I do my artwork for myself, and if others enjoy it too, that is a bonus.

So, here is to another year... I'm working on it.

This is me...giving YOU...permission to be that person.

If you only knew how many times I've heard, when out in public, "I always wished I could draw" or "I always wished I could be a skirt-wearer" or "I always wished I could be a hat-wearer". It makes me think of how many times I said something like that to myself. And really, the only difference between wishing to be that type of person and BEING that type of person...is doing it.

It's really that simple. So, if you want to be a hat-person...then put on a hat and wear it.
If you want to be a skirt wearing person...then put on a skirt and wear it.
If you want to be an artist...than grab the first drawing instrument in front of you and make marks on paper. You are not an imposter, and you don't need someone else's permission.

There will always be uncomfortableness at first. It won't feel like you, or you may feel like you don't know what you are doing. But do it anyway. Every day. The more you do it, or the more you put it on, it will begin to feel more normal. Remind yourself that you have every right to wear that, or do that, or draw that. You have the permission to try and try again. No one is EVER good at their first attempt at something. That is where trial and practice come in.

Some people try something and then instantly judge themselves. They may feel intimidated about other people's perceived judgement or they don't like the uncomfortableness so they think they aren't meant to wear that or do that. Don't let that stop you. Do it, then do it again, and again, and it will begin to feel like you. It will grow to be a part of you or what you do or who you are.

If you want to draw but feel stifled then change the way you think about it or how you talk to yourself. If you try to draw your dog, and don't like the way it looks, don't stop. Try it again. Or don't focus on whether it is 'good', but try focusing on the process. Play with it. Think about experimenting with colors, or how they change when you overlay them. Try making different textures. Think about experimenting with how some ink pens bleed and how some are permanent. Try exploring other artist's way of drawing or painting. Try following other artists on Instagram or YouTube and deciphering what it is or what you like about their work and try doing that. Don't let your mind stop you from getting out of your comfort zone and trying something new.

The same goes for wearing something new. Don't let your mind talk you out of it but explore different versions of that item. For instance, I remember a time that I said to myself "I love seeing suits and blazers but I could never wear them" and the sales person said something that stuck with me, she said "then you just haven't found the right style yet; there is a style or cut that suits everyone". I remember that and apply it to so many areas of my life.

Not every style looks good on everyone, so be willing to experiment. If you want to be a hat-wearer, and you try on a hat and don't like the way it looks then don't dismiss all hats, but ask yourself why. If you don't like the way it feels, then try a different fabric or material. If you don't like how you look in it, figure out why. Do you need one with a brim? Or is brimless better for your face shape? Do you need something smaller or larger to balance your proportions? Do you need something more classic or more sporty? Does a taller crown flatter your face or would a shallower crown be more suited for your head size? There are lots of choices. Even if it feels odd at first, the more you wear it, the more it will feel like you!

I always liked the look of skirts and wanted to be a skirt wearing person. So I tried and tried many different styles and lengths, and little by little I am learning what I like on me. Now, it feels like 'me' to wear them. To wear them in winter...find tights that you like. Wear them with boots or sneakers in summer. Wear them for dressing up or dressing down. The more you wear them, the more they'll feel like you. And don't stop until you find a style that is flattering. Keep trying.

What type of 'person' do you aspire to be? An athlete? Then you know what to do...start by putting on your sneakers and going for a walk. Take that first step. You want to be a more organized person? Then, make a list of things to do. You want to learn something new? I'm sure there is a video out there to demonstrate that very thing.

I think the Nike slogan says it best "Just do it". I like to take it a step further by saying if you 'do it' you will 'be it'. If you wear boots, then you are a boot-wearer. If you like to draw sunsets, then you are an artist. If you do kind deeds, then you are a kind person. We each have permission to do those things and be those types of people.

I'm working on it.

Day 60, Two-months post surgery.

I can't believe this surgery is two months behind me. I can't say that I am used to my new shape and proportions, and I am still grappling with how my favorite clothing is fitting. But what I can definitely appreciate is my ability to get up and move, sit and stand, without thinking about it. I can now breathe and move without wincing or preparing my mind for discomfort upon changing position. It is a relief.

But as things change...things are changing. As I was getting more range of motion, I began to have 'cording' which is common. So I needed to have Physical Therapy. I, then, began therapy but now I can't sleep without pain because things are shifting my spine. I am beginning to feel nerves reconnecting. Some of the numbness is going away but now I get shocking pains under my arms where nerve endings are reaching out. One thing changes and another thing pops up. 

I completed therapy but that wasn't solving my spine issue, so I needed to see a Chiropractor for sessions to help. Then I saw a Lymphatic Drainage specialist and Massage Therapist. It's a lot. But, how can I not? I appreciate the ability to have services close by and the financial resources to seek their help. I can't imagine going through this without help. 
​

So, what am I doing now? Physically, I am exercising and stretching everyday to increase range of motion and rebuild strength. I am following that path of giving attention to whatever pops up. For enjoyment?  I am sketching whenever I can. It is both stimulating and relaxing as well. It is exciting to surround myself with others who are creating art, or exploring sketching for themselves. I was honored and proud to be a part of an Urban Sketchers of Michigan Exhibit at the Art's Council of White Lake Nuveen Center in September.

Personally, I am continuing to work, to help pay off the dozens of bills totaling thousands of dollars I've accumulated over the last few months. This year has been a costly one. But this little cancer adventure has brought to the forefront benefits as well. It is a realization of the need to be open with loved ones, and grasp opportunities that show themselves. Hopefully we don't go back to taking each other for granted, and we remember to live each day as if it is a gift. I believe we can only do what we can do, love who we can love, and move our bodies the best we can.

​I'm working on it.

Thoughts from Day 14. Two weeks post surgery.

It was such a relief to get drain tubes removed, and being told I no longer needed to wear compression garments on my torso. I still needed to wear the Steri-strips for another week or so to help keep the incision from widening but I was beginning to differentiate what pains and tightness were from drain tubes, or scar pain or muscle tightness. My main focus was understanding what symptoms are temporary or what is my new way of operating.

I had no idea if my incision would stay puckered, or if my chest will remain concave. I worried that the mild lymphedema I was experiencing in my chest was going to get worse or not. Everything was so different, and I didn't know what was normal or what was not. At this stage, my overall complaint was extreme tightness. It felt like wear an extremely tight bra, one that was three sizes too tight, only you can't ever take it off. Night and day my skin and muscles were WAY TOO TIGHT. I got no relief. I was hoping it wasn't like this the rest of my life. So I turned to the Internet to search for answers.

I found a couple of websites by YouTube Physical Therapists who specialize in Breast Cancer Therapy. They were Godsent. They provided just the information I needed at just the right time. They gave basic stretching and movement exercises to help with healing to do at 2-3 weeks, and then after 4 weeks, stretching can intensify. One interesting fact I learned is that scar tissue doesn't have to remain painful and stiff, that if you can manipulate the scar tissue, you can progress to rolling the tissues and loosen things up. That can even be done years later, but obviously better if you can start early. If you want to explore, I'd recommend videos on scar tissue by Jen Mckenzie, Physical Therapist and Breast Cancer Specialist who goes by The Breast Cancer Physio. Another is Kelly, who goes by the Cancer Rehab PT.

So, I started small and light and over days progressed to firmer rolling of the tissue. Within three days of beginning that therapy, that extreme tightness began to feel lessened. I was hoping that if I worked hard, I could make some progress understanding that I still have a long way to go. But that was the difficult part, not knowing if this was a stage of recovery, or if this was the way things will be.

I didn't know. But what I did know is that I'd do everything I could to get answers and keep the healing moving on.

I'm working on it.

​

Day 7 Post surgery. It was so much harder than I anticipated. I was gauging the recovery of my bilateral mastectomies on how well the recovery of my two lumpectomies went. But this was a whole different beast. The constant uncomfortableness can not be stressed enough. It was a lot. It was uncomfortable and pinchy to breathe, to move, to sit, to lie. There was pressure and pain from tight binding on the outside and from the inside where the drain tubes were scraping. It just was NOT fun. There was a constant reminder of uncomfortableness that would only be relieved with time. Did I mention how uncomfortable it was?

But I kept busy with being proactive about my care. I recorded temperature, and cleaned and stripped my drainage tubes twice a day. I recorded and emptied by drainage bulbs twice a day at first, and then later just once a day. There wasn't much more I could do. It brought flashbacks of having a newborn baby. I remember that uncertainness, and the only confidence was recording our progress. I remember writing down times of wet diapers and bowel movements, and baths. This felt the same.

​I was grateful for family and friends that stopped by to lend a hand with care and company. I was surprised with a candlelight vigil as family and friends gathered outside on the sidewalk to wish me well. I was blessed with all the people praying for me, for my recovery, and for good results from the pathology reports. I was just in a metaphorical cocoon, holding me tight, and my body doing physical work that I had no control of. Only time would tell the outcome.

I had no idea what was going on under the wraps. I was advised not to change bandages or shower that area until my 7-day checkup. The weather had been warm and the bindings were beginning to have an odor I feared was infection. I worried that something was oozing or putrifying under wraps. My imagination was making up horrifying scenarios. But I had no fever, so I had to put my faith in my body knew what to do.

The other fear that plagued my mind was that THIS surgery, and pain, was just the beginning of the end of me. We had no idea if cancer had spread to lymph nodes and beyond. We DID know that one DCIS was Estrogen/Progesterone Negative which was not favorable and unresponsive to chemotherapy. So my prayers were that all the cancer was contained.

When we got the results from the surgery, where they examined the removed tissue, and sentinel lymph nodes, it was a HUGE, lifesaving relief. It appears that the margins were clear, cancer contained, with no metastasis. That meant I did not need chemotherapy or radiation. Hallelujah! Now I could get on with healing and living. (Still feeling a bit like the other shoe was going to drop.)

I challenged myself to do an Urban Sketchers Meet Up in Holland, Michigan, pretending all was normal, while under my shirt I had bandages and drain tubes. But it felt good to be out and about, driving for the first time since surgery, and doing what I love. I met some wonderful women sketchers that had similar experiences, and I felt like I was part of club. (A club I never wanted to join.) The sharing of stories and support brought tears to my eyes.

The pain and uncomfortableness was still there, and I still needed to have drain tubes in for a few more days, but knowing this was the end of my procedures was a huge sigh of relief. Dr. App had removed my bandages, and all was well and healing nicely. I was on the road to recovery. It was so strange seeing my body for the first time. I was grateful to have my husband and sister there for support. I was glad that the incisions looked great but the missing breasts made me feel a bit disfigured. It took some getting used to.

​The changes and body image is still surprising to me. But I am getting used to it. I'm working on it.

That dreaded purple marker that my breast surgeon uses to mark the shape of things to come. It is messy and difficult to remove. She likes to generously mark where cut lines will be and what to expect. The purple line is evidence of change, but what can prepare a person for that sort of life changing step?

I currently attempting to make preparations for surgery which will be in a few days. Blood is drawn and the marker is scoured away. Now I just tie up loose ends like end of month bills, and wait for surgery and subsequent results. But, what should I do while in this transitional stage?

At this moment, I still have my breasts which I have kind of gotten attached to. In the early years they signaled change and the mystery of growing up. In my young adult years they symbolized coming to terms with my grown up body, and autonomy. As a young mom, I am grateful they were givers of life and sustenance for my baby. It's so odd to think they are growing cancer cells and my body is feeding that growth as if its life depends on it, when the opposite is actually happening.

I am trying to stay in the moment; this moment that God has blessed me with. It is truly paralyzing to think of what may come (for those are the thoughts that race through my mind as I try to fall asleep, or are the first thoughts upon waking). I can't let myself get caught up in the 'why' and 'what could I have done differently to prevent it'. And I can't let myself get caught up in 'what is going to happen to my son, and husband, and family, without me'. Those kinds of thoughts cease me up and bring me to tears. So instead, I breathe and take this moment of peace and gratitude and love the people around me, and do what I have to do.

So, thank you breasts for serving me well. I will move on from here doing whatever I can for health and preservation. Thank you to my friends and family, who have crossed my path for a while, or have walked this life together. I'll try to stay grateful and remain p r e s e n t because there is peace in that.

I am working on it.

You have breasts, I have breasts, the people you love have breasts. They are miraculous parts of the body that deserve respect and discussion. I had hoped I would never have to see the changing colors of breast cancer. But yesterday, with the diagnosis, I am plunged into the world of cancer. It's a lot. It's more than I've ever wanted to know, consider, or make decisions about.

How things came about was that there were some concerning tiny areas on mammogram and ultrasound that needed biopsies. Biopsy results indicated it wasn't cancer but ADH (Atypical Ductal Hyperplasia and papilloma). My PCP and surgeon both advised to get those areas out. I would have opted to wait it out and see, but took their advice and had two lumpectomies last week. I feel great. It went really well. No pain but LOTS OF COLORS of bruising. You know I love to sketch, so I just had to record the colors, and sutures in my sketchbook. I had no concerns and never worried until I opened the pathology report and it said DUCTAL CARCINOMA IN SITU in both breasts. Well that lead me to internet searches and a meeting with my surgeon. And more to consider and talk about.

Today is a new day, and I'll take each new day as a blessing. I'll do what I have to do to take care of body so I can continue to live, serve, and love the people I love. I'm honored to have siblings, parents, family and friends who are keeping me in their prayers.

It's weird. I don't think of this diagnosis as doom, or grief, or even sadness. Maybe I'm numb emotionally. It's probably part of the grief process. I am probably in denial. But I feel fired up. I feel energized. I feel...I feel...a challenge coming on. I take this as a personal challenge.

I'm working on it.

It feels so good to get back to working in a sketchbook. I am challenging myself to draw everyday, and it is helpful to have a focus. It certainly helped me to join a new local chapter of Urban Sketchers. We gather together or sketch individually, but post our work collectively as Urban Sketchers West Michigan.

I used to use a sketchbook to record ideas, to practice, and work through projects, but didn't use the sketchbook as an end result. I might have a sketch of here or there, but nothing consistently. Since meeting up with others and sketching our corner of the world, it has encouraged me to draw daily and record what I see around me. What I love about sketching is that it takes the pressure off of needing to have a 'finished' work of art. It allows me to sketch quick, and loose, and to play with the process without worrying about the end result as I would with a final piece.

What I also love about having a sketchbook is that it is a recording of a personal memory. Taking the time to sketch allows me to interact with my environment. I get to really look at what is in front of me and focus on the bits that are of interest. Then, I have that moment recorded like a scrapbook to look back on. Each and every time I sketch, regardless of the medium, I learn something new. I learn to mix colors, or how they interact with that particular paper, or I figure out a new technique or discover a way I like to work.

I had always asked other artists and professionals how to develop a style, and the answer would always be the same...just draw! It isn't until I actually draw daily and accumulate a large quantity of sketches that I am beginning to feel comfortable with the process. Where it goes from here will be fun to see.

I encourage you to pick up a pencil or pen and draw what you see. It doesn't matter the level of your ability, or if you've had formal training. And you never have to share your sketch with anyone else if you don't want. Do it for you. You may find it relaxing to explore the world with line and color. Get back to the happiness you found in coloring, as a child. It may awaken the want to 'play' with art materials. Anyone can do it.

Feel free to follow us on Facebook or join our Urban Sketchers West Michigan group. There is no cost and all levels are welcome! Upcoming meet-up events are posted. Urban sketching isn't just for outside drawing either. It is inside or out, interiors, exteriors, landscapes, people or pets in an environment. I even take those bits of urban sketching in my sketchbooks, and rework them back at home at my drawing table. Sketching leads to inspiration!

I encourage you to try to sketch. Practice. Have fun. Reach out to me if you need help or want company.

I'm working on it! How about you?

Let me tell you about our little dog, Windry. She is something else!

From the moment we got her, she challenged and delighted us. She is a beauty from all angles. I wanted to capture her bold personality and stunning looks in a book for my son, but just knew I had to share her with the rest of the world.

The idea for a book about her started simmering in my mind when Cesar Millan, the Dog Whisperer, was popular. I have his books and followed his teaching, but I did everything wrong. She, or I, was the poster child for what Cesar says shouldn't happen. She liked to challenge everything we said (a trait Shiba Inu's are known for). The more calm and assertive I tried to be, the more she did the opposite. She definitely had her own ideas for who is the boss and how things should be, and she made that known. I liked to imagine what SHE was thinking in those instances and that is how the idea of this book came to be.

Personally, she was a learning experience for me to draw and paint. From a drawing perspective, she was difficult because where the shadows fell on her, and should be darker, she was lighter in color, and where the color wraps the form and usually is grayer, then she was warmer and oranger in color. It took me awhile to figure her out a formula for her. I love this brown sketch paper and thought it was perfect to enhance her coloring, and have her emerge from the paper.

I love this little girl so much and am so grateful for her company. She is currently fifteen years old and nearing the end, so I wanted to make sure to capture her spirit on paper. I have other books planned in this series, and hopefully she can continue to entertain us all, long after she has left this Earth.

What if the world isn’t falling apart...but falling into place? I might have read that someplace. But still feel it is true. What if this current heated chaos is just a way of airing out the debris to make way for a better way of living for all? 

This urgent unrest reminds me of a ‘healing crisis’. If you are familiar with natural healing or the administering of Homeopathy, it isn’t uncommon after choosing the perfect remedy, to sometimes get a reaction of a healing crisis. It’s sort of like the body is prompted to heal so it does it all at once and has all its responses activated that it feels like messy undesired effects or something that is wrong. When actually it is something very right, just a bit sudden. It is when the body is doing what it needs to do only at more of an accelerated pace. 

The results of a healing crisis can sometimes look messy when actually the debris is being dealt with and cleared away. It’s a lot like cleaning out a closet. During the process it looks twice as messy and disorganized. The crap you haven’t used or seen in years gets pulled out and is strewn all over the floor only to have to face the reason why you have it and decide what to do with it. Often there is guilt and emotion gripping you in the process. It is all painful and uncomfortable until you clear out what no longer serves you and you can reorganize, and put back only the things that are necessary to function in your life. 

Maybe this time and messiness of 2020 is a healing crisis while cleaning out our collective closet. It is exactly what we need to face and work through, just at an uncomfortable, accelerated pace. We know that growth can be painful. Think of growing pains or the pain of labor in birth. But healing itself is a natural process. We don’t have to tell a wound how to scab over. Or we don’t have to tell our bodies how to heal a bruise. Our life force knows what to do, we just need to not hinder it or stop the process. 

To use those metaphors, we are in the middle of a healing crisis. It is scary and causes doubt and uncertainty. We are also in the middle of cleaning out our collective closet. If we interrupt that process and leave it; we are in a bigger mess. Our best course is to trust we are finding a new way through this mess and will be better once we work through it. It is hard, emotional work, but if we stay with it, we’ll be better for the process. 

I’m working on it.

Completed! Finished! Peel off the tape! Cross it off the list!

Isn’t it just the best feeling to complete something and cross it off your list? It gives such a sense of accomplishment. It’s not just the big tasks, but the small ones as well. I need that validation that I am making progress in all the things I am working on each day. 

I don’t know about you, but I am a list maker. I need to organize my thoughts and get them down on a visual list either on paper or on my phone. I make lists of what I need to buy. I make lists of what projects or goals I need to work toward. My most important list is my daily tasks list. That is a list of the things I need to do or errands I need to run in a day. 

Crossing something off my list gives me my own personal applause. It is like getting a gold star on a chart or a standing ovation. It is my own little boost of ‘well done’ and that brings me joy. 

Sometimes when life is stressful or I feel like I am just treading water, I add things to my list that I would normally do anyways, just to give myself a boost. I know that is silly. ‘Exercise and stretching’ I’ll add it to my list. ‘Take a shower’ I add that to the list. ‘Put away dishes’ I add that to my list. And before I know it, when I leave the house in the morning, I’ve already crossed off four or five things from my list. It helps me to feel successful.

Recently, I completed a large personal project I’ve been planning in my mind for about for the last ten years. Until this last month I never actually started the illustrations for the project. But with this extra time off and mental clearing, I methodically worked through all 27 illustrations. The relief came when after each drawing I could peel off the tape and cross it off my list. It was a beautiful exhale. It felt great. Now onto making the list of pre-press tasks and tackling that next stage. 

I’m working on it.

The morning is my favorite time of the day. If it is a sunny morning, then that is an extra blessing.

Today, it felt like I had a dozen tasks I needed to do but what I chose to do first, was to paint my toenails on the back steps, and do a sketch of our growing garden. I was moved by the sun shining through the leaves and making shadows on the other parts of the plant. I wanted to try and capture the light and shadows.

It felt good to listen to the noises of the neighborhood. There was an energy, yet a calm all at the same time. I love those mornings when the temperature is just right to sit outside in my jammies and soak in the freshness of a new day.

Morning has broken...

I want to try and capture that magic.

I'm working on it.

​

So the annual Grand Rapids Festival of the Arts has come and gone and I am still trying to interpret how I feel about it this year.

The Festival celebrated its 50th year, this year, but somehow didn’t feel as momentous as it should. 50 years is a big deal! And truthfully it feels a little anticlimactic. Maybe it is just me, but it feels like there has been a change in the way the community participates in Festival. Attendance feels down, the number of food booths has practically been halved compared to previous decades, and most of all I don’t sense any buzz or chatter about attending.

I love going to Festival and still look forward to it every year. I enjoy the crowds, and running into familiar faces. I bask in the energy and celebration of the different art forms, and being surrounded by the grilling food and music from the many stages. It all is invigorating to me. But it feels like there has been a collective shift. I sense that the people who attend are mostly families and friends of participants instead of crowds looking for something to do, or the curious observers of art or those who want to be exposed to new art and art forms. When I ask friends and co-workers if they are going, many decline or share that they aren’t interested. I grew up anticipating this once-a-year celebration and am baffled by people who don't feel the same way.

It used to be that THAT was the place to be, or at least it felt that way to me. The colors, sights, sounds, art, music AND PEOPLE!  The most people I saw in one place might be at church or a football game, but THIS was a gathering of people on the move. People laughing, and singing, and walking, and dancing. You could sit and people watch, or travel from booth to booth nibbling and sharing. It felt like the best things in life. If that all still exists, why aren't the masses drawn to the Festival?

There are always the people who 'don't like crowds' or those intimidated by parking downtown. But if the population of Grand Rapids is still growing, why aren't the festival crowds growing? If I try and analyze it, I suspect that there are other, more regular opportunities that is taking some of the 'specialness' out of this one-time-a-year event. (Like how the Wizard of Oz used to be special because it was once a year, and now you can stream it anytime or buy the DVD and it isn't so special anymore.)  Artprize now draws large crowds to downtown for free and that has the atmosphere of carnival that Festival used to have. And we now have weekly free concerts in spots around town on different days of the week for music lovers to gather. Is it marketing that isn't getting through? Is it just the fact that another generation has grown up and it doesn't hold the same appeal?

All I know is that the things that make Festival great, are the things that make LIFE itself great: art, music, family, fun, and food! We can all search out ways to get our regular dose of art to enhance our lives. If you haven't attended Festival in a while, make it a point to visit next year. It is always the first full weekend in June. Mark it on your calendar! I'll be there!

As for the future of Festival, I have a couple of suggestions.

1.  Since eating whole-food, plant based, (a vegan diet) there aren't choices for me to eat down there. I used to be able to buy a walking salad, or veggie noodles, but those booths aren't participating anymore. I'd like to see more healthy choices available that aren't dripping in butter or oil (most cultures have vegan dishes, I'd like to see them participating).

2.  I'd also like to go back to a ban on bringing pets to the Festival. I may be a party pooper, but I was disheartened to see all the animals (even though on leashes) with owners not being responsible. All the noises and crowds really freaked out a lot of pets. I saw terror in their faces, and owners handling them roughly when they were having normal reactions to people and noises. I saw innocent pedestrians being tripped by leashes of distracted owners. I witnessed owners not paying attention as their dogs ran right up to the faces of babies of people they don't know, and the dogs licked the babies, since they were at the same level, and the owners laughed it off. I'd be infuriated, in fact I was and it wasn't even my child. Some people aren't responsible and endanger others, so we should have rules to protect others. No pets at the Festival, please. 

If you go, what draws you in? If not, why do you think people refrain from visiting the Festival?

I look forward to going. Maybe one of these years, my art will be accepted into the Festival Competition. That'd be a dream come true.

I'm working on it.

This is a chalk pastel drawing of the Calder Plaza at the Festival. I tried to loosely capture the COLOR of the moment.





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To some, Memorial Day is a day off from work to enjoy the everyday things we enjoy such as family, food, and fun. For others, Memorial Day is a day to visit the cemetery and remember parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles, brothers and sisters, and those we love who have passed on. It is important to take time to keep in mind those that can no longer enjoy the pleasures of life on this earth. Keeping each of them in mind is like keeping a part of them alive.

But on Memorial Day, we can take that one step further, and remember why this holiday was designated: to honor the men and women who died serving in the U.S. Military. Each individual left his or her family to fight to preserve our rights and freedoms.

We celebrate those who made that sacrifice, and whose lives were changed by serving in the military. I'd like to thank those close to me who are still serving; a shout out to nephews Elton and Hunter, and to other family members who are proud veterans: Father-in-law Bill, Brother-in-law Jim H, sister Mary Therese,  nephew Bob B and cousin Tom W.  Remembrances for veteran uncles Bob and Milo whose lives were changed because of the war and who have passed away.

Thank you for your service! I'll continue to keep you in mind and in my prayers of thanksgiving.

​I'm working on it.

If you're from West Michigan, your childhood probably included a visit to John Ball Park Zoo, on the northwest side of Grand Rapids. And no visit would be complete without a climb on the John Ball statue. This past Saturday, I visited the Zoo with my husband and son (who is now all grown up).

I felt nostalgic as the fond memories of climbing the statue came flooding back to me. I remembered feeling the fear of falling off and yet how pleasing it was to rub my hands over the well worn, shiny areas that had years of polishing. I couldn't forget the slight pain of touching the hot metal that was heated by the sun.

It is comforting to see the statue still sitting in the same spot, and to know that as life moves on, that somethings still remain. It is kind of like a testament that 'I was here, and this meant something to me'.



This is a watercolor pencil drawing over pen and ink from my sketchbook, and for comparison, a photo I took for reference. For this sketch, I wasn't trying for realism, I was just playing with color and trying to work with the watercolor pencils. I wanted to experiment to see if I could leave the line, or if the water would smooth it all out. My dissatisfaction was that I hadn't left enough white in the highlighted areas of the statue. I tried to go over it with chalk pastel, and when that didn't work, I tried white out pen. But neither would bring back the white. 

Today is Mother's Day. And if that isn't special enough, on my way into work, I had a close encounter with a scared, struggling creature, that ended well. It was a magical moment for me.

As I was walking down the stairs in the parking ramp, I heard the frantic sound of a bird flinging itself at a huge window. Most of the parking ramp is open and birds regularly fly in and out of the structure, but one corner is enclosed in glass. That little bird was confused and trapped in the corner area. 

Instantly, my heart started pounding at seeing its panicked state. I tried to shoo it away but it flew into the other corner. At that time a coworker (shout out to Rose), with a gentle heart, saw the struggle too. Neither of us could bear to leave it there. Together we tried to guide it out, but to no avail. I tried to cover it with my scarf, but it flew to the lower levels and flung itself at the glass down there.

So I took a breath, and settled my panic and willed it to know that we were here to help it and tried again. I put my scarf over it and was able to carefully close my hands around it. It was so sweet. Its beautiful, brilliantly colored head was peeking out of my scarf. I wished I could have held it longer or snapped a photo, or something. Rose opened the door, I carried it outside, and let it go. It flew away seemly unharmed. 

That little creature was so amazing and beautiful, it was a wonderful gift to see it up close. It was a Common Grackle, and rescuing it and feeling it in my hands filled me with joy. It didn't seem so common; it seemed extraordinary. The iridescent blue head and purplish black body against the teal scarf were breathtaking. I felt honored by being able to help it out of tight spot, and who doesn't love a happy ending?! 

Being in the right place and the right time feels right.  

I'm working at it.


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This little drawing was done with the tools I had with me: my sketchbook, black pen, and colored markers.

'Well I finally joined Urban Sketchers.

That was a goal of mine for a very long time. It was not a difficult task, but just needed the form to get filled out and links made to connect my blog to their site. It is absolutely free, and anyone can join. You should take a look! There are A-M-A-Z-I-N-G sketches from sketchers around the world. Sketchers can link their Facebook or other social media pages so you can view endless pages of sketchbooks.

Who doesn't love browsing through someone's sketchbook? Taking a peak at someone else's sketchbook can be as revealing as a diary or as telling about one's likes as looking in someone's refrigerator or medicine cabinet. I love it! Sometimes I feel a bit intimidated by how good the artists can be. I admire their work and think "Geez, I wish I could be that good." But whether done by a professional or amateur, ALL the sketches convey someone else's point of view and that is what invigorates me, and inspires me to pick up a pen and grab my sketchbook to literally AND figuratively 'go to town'.

So check it out the site:  www.urbansketchers.org

The sketching that is done can be of city or countryside, people or buildings, flora or fauna, interior or exterior, and by professional or amateur artists. The whole point is to be out and about sketching as opposed to back in your studio. There are guidelines posted on the site if you want more information or want to join, yourself.

So check back here, occasionally, and hopefully you'll see some new urban sketches from me! My next goal is to create or join a Grand Rapids Urban Sketchers Chapter. In the meantime, why don't you grab the nearest pen, pencil or maker, and draw what you see around you? Be open to freeing the artist that is in you!

​I'm working on it myself.

I just got the news that a dear, dear friend passed away today.  I feel like I am missing my guardian angel.

Beverly M. is a very kind soul, with a quick wit and bubbly sense of humor. She enjoyed reading and loved her family most of all.  She is one of those people where it feels like I've known her my whole life, but in reality, I've only known her for 6 years.

I am going to miss her willingness to listen, her kindness, her giggle, but most of all her knowledge. She was my mentor of sorts. She helped me start in the part-time job I am currently working. She helped me navigate the bookkeeping system, and office workflow. She had collected a lifetime of bookkeeping knowledge and practical life experience and shared that with me as needed. In the beginning, she sat next to me, to figuratively hold my hand through the learning process, and stayed with me as my 'phone-a-friend' up until the end.

I already miss her for being 'her', but I will also miss her because I feel like I am alone without a safety net. She will no longer be there to answer my questions, or give me moral support to help me through the next quandary. I feel a bit of panic inside because I don't have her to fall back on when the next question arises. I feel like I am approaching my work, very much alone. Like I am in a free-fall.

This scary, sickening feeling is one I've had before. That lost feeling occurred a few years back when another friend and mentor had suddenly passed away. Juliet was so kind, and sweet, and caring. It still feels a bit like a stab in the heart to think she was taken so swiftly. I didn't know she was critical, nor did I get to say good-bye. Juliet was like a life-buoy for me, and to others in the Grand Rapids area. She led a Homeopathic Study Group and was a figurative giant in the La Leche League community. She was the one I would call when, as a new mother, my son would spike a fever late at night I didn't know what to do. She had such a soothing voice and demeanor, and always guided me to the right course of action. I still feel that slight panic when I am facing an emergency. I feel gripped inside with the realization that I can't reach out to her for advice or help. And she isn't in some state of waiting to spring into action when I call.

When I analyze our friendships, beyond who they were personally, I'd say both of those women held iconic roles for me or were archetypes. They were caring, nurturing, informative, and guiding. They were both 'mother' figures in a sense.  "The archetypal mother figure is loving and supporting. They are the rock the Hero can fall back on when needed."

I guess I need to work through those losses and come to the realization that I have the power and the ability to hear the inner voice, and ask the right questions, to find out the information for myself. I am the 'hero' of my own story, and I need to deal with how to handle the questions that arise without their direction. I need to somehow internalize that support as needed. If I listen quietly, I can hear Beverly's way of asking the right questions in a calm way, and untangling the mess of things like unraveling a tangled ball of yarn. She had that power to step back and talk herself through a situation. I need to ask myself "WWBD" (What would Beverly do?)  And likewise, when I am in a medical situation, I can hear  Juliet's gentle, empathetic sigh, and her voice in my mind asking questions. I always ask myself WWJD (What would Juliet do?).

I still grapple with existential questions of how one person can be here one moment, and not the next? How can they have space and a life and then be gone? My faith tells me, they are just gone from view, but not from spirit. I believe their spirit or soul is released from the constraints of the body but now can operate on a larger plan with the Will of God or the Universe. I also have faith that when help is needed, I just need to ask. I have to remember that.

Of course, it is easiest to get my help from a person in the flesh. It is preferable to make a call and hear a reassuring voice on the end of the line. That is why I am SO GRATEFUL for all the times Bevely and Juliet have been a life-line to me. It is an honor to have known and loved each of them, the short time we had together. I appreciate all their support. They did what they knew and loved, and shared that with me.  I am thankful their words and phrases still echo in my mind. Now, rather than being a voice on the phone, they are like angels over my shoulders.

Thank you Beverly, and thank you Juliet, may flights of angels lead you on your way! And my condolences to your families and the ones who love and miss you.

I hope to continue your work and make you proud. Maybe one day I can be a calming voice of assurance in someone else's mind.

I'm working on it.

I saw an interesting little rosary in an antique shop in East Grand Rapids. When I first spied it, in a cluttered, dark case, amid the tie clips and worn out lighters, I thought it was a treasure! It looked like a rosary made for an artist. Each decade featured a different colored opal-like bead. My heart leapt with joy as I ran the colored beads through my fingers and imagined it inspiring my quiet meditations. I was ready to make it my own until. . . I noticed the imperfections.

Missing from the crucifix was the figure of Christ. There was just a rough, metal cross with holes where the figure originally would have been attached. To me the crucifix is an important part of the rosary. It is the starting point of the rosary and the place where it ends - the beginning and the end. It is the foundation of our Catholic religion - the symbol of Christ dying on the cross for each of us. I felt a little deflated in its absence; it even felt a bit sacrilegious.

And then I noticed that the red-rosy decade was missing four beads. That wouldn't do. With all the imperfections, the rosary seemed spoiled.  So I thanked the seller and had him put it back because I couldn't buy it if it wasn't perfect or complete. How could I use it or appreciate it if it wasn't all there? I had such a hard time letting it go since I liked it so much, so right then I made up my mind to go home and try to find out if I could fix it, then I'd go back to get it. I would do what I can to make it complete again.

Back home, I began searching the internet for similar rosaries, or bead-making distributors where  hopefully, I could find matching beads. No luck. I searched for months, on and off, but never found anything that was close. I resigned myself to the fact that I had to get that rosary out of my mind and forget about it.

A few months after that, on one of our antique shop explorations, we visited that shop again AND IT WAS STILL THERE! I was happy to see it like a long lost friend. I asked to hold it again and finger the smooth, small beads but this time I had a flash of enlightenment. As I held the rosary I had a message so clear in my mind: that it IS imperfect, and that is okay, because so am I. I was able to see that rosary in a new way, and made it my own.

I am, now, okay that Jesus is no longer hanging on the cross because he is risen. I see that broken, vacant cross is a sign of my faith. And the beads that are missing are okay as well. I like to think of it is as God is giving me a free-pass. When I reach that decade instead of doing ten 'Hail Marys',  I only need to do six because he knows of my trials and is giving me a break. It makes me smile when I am working through that decade - a secret between me and God. 

So that is how I view it. I now accept that the rosary - my rosary - as being imperfect and am learning to accept and embrace my imperfections as well. There is probably a great story to go along with the broken rosary and how it came to be that way, I wonder what it is?  Anyhow, now my rosary serves to remind me to try and look at things from a different perspective and not to judge someone or something by whether or not it is perfect but accept the uniqueness. 

I'm working on it.

It's that time of year again...the first full weekend in June. I look forward to the Festival of the Arts all year. The smoke from the grills, and scents of spicy concoctions make my mouth water and my spirit soar. I love walking through the crowds of people and hearing snippets of conversations. The music for each of the stages is as varied as people and food. I enjoy finding a spot to sit, nibbling on a treat, and watching the people go by. This year, I already got an elephant ear slathered in cherry pie filling, and something new called a Polish Burrito. It had kielbasa, kapusta and mashed potatoes all rolled in a flour tortilla. It was MUCH better than it sounded. Yummy.

This Friday night visit, I remembered my sketchbook (but forgot my camera). So here is one sketch I did. I was trying to capture the light and shadow of the skyline view from one stage.

I look forward to my visit today....we're heading back downtown!

As we are already well into a another new year,  I am still on my slow, steady journey to declutter my home and simplify my surroundings. By eliminating excess I hope to scale down to what is truly meaningful to me. Sometimes I get caught up in the process of 'getting rid of'; it is nice to think about what I can 'add' in my life.

Courtney Carver is one person who has a blog I like to follow. I respect her journey and her process. Her approach to minimizing comes across as calming and supportive - not preachy at all. She is the creator of Project 333. This list is taken from a post she wrote in May 2014. It is a good reminder for me and is still relevant today.
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This is like a revisit of post from one year ago.

It is the day after my birthday and I feel so blessed and loved. I am most grateful for another day to wake up to sunshine and good health and spirits and ... carrot cake.

It is joy in a box. Just a little. To cheer my tastebuds.

Over this past year, we've had some ups and downs, some losses and gains, but overall, I feel so blessed.

Thank you friends for your friendship and caring.

I am honored and ready to take on this new year!

I recently had an echocardiogram that reaffirms my awe of the human body. Lying in the dark, watching the images on the screen, I was fascinated to see my own beating heart. It was pumping and working away so hard; amazingly I had the ability to just watch it and be grateful. I said out loud "thank you little heart - keep going - don't stop". The technician must have thought I was a bit crazy. To think my whole existence depends on a muscle to keep going. It gets no rest, no good-days and bad-days, no vacations - just non-stop pumping. I think about how often I get a muscle leg cramp or foot cramp. My heart is just a muscle, too. What if it decides to just cramp up or have a weird glitch?

All our lives hang in the balance of tissues and muscles getting signals to continue on. That is sobering. Our bodies are so wonderfully made. They take so much abuse and just keep on doing what they do - usually without much thought from us. Yet, we often are shocked when something is wrong or a disease infiltrates. But when looking at all the things that can go wrong with the human body, it's a wonder any of us are well at all. We are really just at the mercy of the next heartbeat or the next breath.

So a big shout out to my heart....and yours...for doing such a marvelous job. KEEP ON beating little hearts....we are so grateful.



Note - In case you were wondering, Heart Disease runs in our family, and we have lost a few dear, loved ones because of that condition. I recently had some heart 'rhythm' issues come up, so I am getting that checked out. The best I can do is eat responsibly, keep moving, and be aware of any changes. Please take care of yourself, be kind to your body, and I'll do the same.