All the Music was too big

Yesterday I woke up with big feelings. It was one of those days where the sky seemed extra blue and the heartbreaks of the world cut extra deep.  I made coffee and put music on and every song had notes that traveled through me, words that swam and around in my head reminding me of something and there I was standing in the kitchen next to the microwave with my eyes leaking happiness. 

I exclaimed to my internet "all the music is too big today" knowing I couldn't keep crying all day with every song.  Sure enough ya'll came through with a some things that sufficed, my favorite being the "Brian Eno - Thursday Afternoon the 61 minute version."  I ran it through twice, providing a beautiful background to get lost in illustrating and no particular sentiment to magnify. The day went on fast and fun with kids and mom at the studio making clay things and I'd forgotten how soft and squishy my insides were until we landed at the Sinnissippi Bandshell sitting among the populace waiting for the Phantom Regiment to take the stage.

You see, I grew up on the south side of Rockford near the Park-it-mark-it on Kishwaukee and some summer nights, while standing in the front yard one could hear the Phantom Regiment drum line practicing in the distance. And on one of those trips to the grocery with my mom where we begged her for candy, I instead begged for a grocery store toy and procured a sparkly white baton with rubber ends and I remember standing in the front yard pretending to be a majorette.  I'm sure I put on my shortest  shorts, tallest boots, and tied my grubby summer t-shirt in a knot at the belly and marched around twirling my grocery store baton occasionally catching myself in the shin with the end.  I think I spent a whole summer, maybe two, dreaming about marching in a parade.

I try to explain all of this nostalgia to my eight year as we wait for the band to take the stage.  He is extremely uninterested and wants nothing more than to run around the playground pretending to be Spider man. I beckon him nearer the stage with ice cream sandwiches so I can feel the drum line in my chest, the whole while poking the kid telling him he can play drums like that if he keeps up his lessons. He was nodding and looking wistfully back towards the playground.

For a day that started with me exclaiming all the music was too big, it seemed sort of funny to be watching a 150 piece band play my favorite memories so loud neighbors can hear it for miles. My eyes leaked again when we finally made it to the playground at the end of the concert and the kids clamored all over themselves for a turn on one of the three playground xylophones, each kid, including mine, trying to mimic the fast arms of the Regiment Xylophonists who played in the front of the band.  Well done Rockford, well done.

This Ninth Day of January Two Thousand and Seventeen

This morning my teenage daughter got herself out of bed and fed and off to school on her own, while I gave my first grader a ride to his new school.  He finally got into Montessori (there's a wait list.) After I dropped him off, I went to my neighborhood library and started a mural for the toddler room.  It's a big elm tree and I used three ladders and three colors to get it going today.  It's magnificent and I may paint trees in my own home after this.  The new Montessori school gives the kids each a 'job' at school and today my son's job was to do dishes.  He loved school so much that when he came home he wanted to show me how he can help.  This day is one for the books.

On Mom Time

Why when you ask if I've watched the new episode of anything I just laugh. aka Why watching a one minute video actually takes me forty minutes.

Hit play on new Jon Steward video I was tagged in, watch 4 seconds.

"Mom, can you help me pour milk?"

Pause video, pour milk, one minute later hit play, watch 4 seconds of video.

"Mom I gotta tell you something...."

Pause video, enthusiastically listen to a two minute story about farts, hit play and watch another 10 seconds of video.

Realize the puppy needs to go out.

Pause video, walk the puppy around the yard for five minutes, bring her in for praise and treats, hit play watch 4 seconds of video.

"Mom! I need help! My ipad is out of battery! I need to plug it in!"

Pause video, plug in ipad, put Sponge Bob on the tv, a minute later hit play and watch 10 seconds of video almost hear a whole joke.

"Mom this dog is too bitey! I'm gonna just put her in the laundry basket!"

Pause video, separate bitey dog from feisty child, tell child not to jump on the couch, put dog in crate, three minutes later watch 10 seconds of video, hear punchline of joke set up four minutes ago.

"Mom, I'm hungry"

Pause video, walk child into the kitchen, select a snack together, put it in a bowl, wash three dishes and empty the trash, make a cup of coffee for myself, feed hungry puppy and remember I wanted to watch that video I was watching fifteen minutes ago. Hit play, watch 30 seconds of video.

"I need a swipe!"

Pause video, for the next ten minutes, go swipe soemone's butt, wash hands, tell child to wash hands. Run to the basement to locate a clean hand towel, run it back upstairs to hand to child who is now standing there with wet hands and pants around ankles. Re-tie draw string pants at the waist of child, so they stay up. Hit play on video watch 20 seconds.

Pause video, answer phone. Talk for a minute, hit play on video. watch 20 seconds when the credits roll, realize it's over. Bookmark it to try to watch it again later.

Hermit Crab

I haven't left the house in two days. It's glorious. I've been painting and illustrating and watching CNN. I'm at the end of the groceries and just stood in the kitchen figuring what I can still make without adding anything.  I have dinner figured out but every day I but a cookie in the lunches of the people that leave the house and I'm out of cookies.  We'll be going to karate class tonight and I'll run next door and buy some cookies and coffee, so briefly, for a bit this evening, I'll have to put on a bra and talk to people. The hard part about working from home though is that I'm never really off work and it's always looming there in the room wanting one more line one more swipe of the brush. Though I can go to work in my pajamas I'm still compelled to work after the day is done for just a few more minutes.

Running Running Running Running

Life is moving too fast.  I think this every summer but it's super true this summer.  I've got a solo art show up and I'm teaching two classes and adding a third in August in addition to another solo show at a different place and of course getting ready for art scene and working on layout and cover for another book! We just finished the last one in June. I still haven't sent out all the copies of it. The summer is half done and I just put the air conditioners in the windows for the first time last week.  I can't even dedicate the proper amount of time to blogging about any of these things because there are soo many.

***

I took everyone to the Ren Fest and sword fighting has taken priority at out house.  It's awesome. I'm inspired to try to find a fencing class but then I remembered I'd much rather find a belly dancing class and then I remembered that I barely have any time already and what the hell am I thinking. Also I'm thinking about getting a puppy because I don't feel busy enough and all the mammals at my house are no longer helpless and so I thought I'd add one. (sarcasm! wooo!)

***

Totally going to see Ghost Busters tomorrow night.

***

The statistics are this - one in five women will be sexually assaulted in her lifetime.  Why do we spout this statistic putting the emphasis on the victim instead of saying one in sixteen men is a rapist, or that one in three men would rape if they knew they could get away with it?  So after this statistic is repeated we can all look around the room and try to figure out who's perpetrating instead of who the poor victim is.  It's time to shift the focus.

***

I love Hillary Clinton. I'll vote for her.  I'll work for her if she needs me in IL or WI. This isn't open for debate. My choice is made.

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I want a puppy this fall.  One who is middle sized, smart, dark fur that doesn't shed, barky but not bitey, likes to mostly hang out laying around on the floor, one who's ears stand up and are pointy and has a long tail. I want this dream puppy to be super cute and be a rescue.

I think my ear is screwed on too tight

I have this headache and when I tug on my ear it feels better.
When I pinch my eyebrow it feels better.
While tilting my head all the way to the right, I yawn, and it feels better.
I can twist my arm back behind me as far as it goes and it feels better.
If I sit on the chair in front of someone and have them stab the spot at the end on my shoulder-blade with their thumb, it feels better.
I can't very well go walking around town pinching and yawning and stretching and getting stabbed with a thumb, so I took a pill and a nap.
My head still hurts.

Wishes

Dear Humanity,

Can we just do better at keeping the children safe? I'm tired of reading the news.

Sincerely,
Me

The Darkest Days

When the alarm sounded there was rain and the sun wasn't yet up. I lost the remote and couldn't put Sponge Bob on and so there was no commercial break to tell us to leave on time.  A new lunch box had to be located to replace the forgotten one and a cruddier choice of drink bottle will substitute for the one that doesn't leak all over in the backpack.  The bus driver was sick and some stranger was driving an odd bus this morning and though the route number in the window was correct, I couldn't help but worry what would happen if he dropped all those little kids off at the wrong school.  Perhaps a high school, where all the gang members who eat kindergartners go. Back home I shook off the early morning and set to work inserting a sliver into my left index finger while re-cutting the long side of a canvas whose gesso I am watching dry.

Getting Ready for Halloween!

I stubbed my toe three times today.  The same toe.  And it's not even like my toe grew and I don't know how to use it all of a sudden.  It's still a regular toe, it just hurts now.

***

I've been posting some art and stuff to Instagram.

***

I cleaned out the front hallway closet and the entry way to make way for winter junk.  Spent a lot of time matching gloves and emptying the hall bench of hats.  I don't know why I have 28 baseball hats, I've never bought a one (with the exception of the Superman one I bought for Jack at Metropolis.) Maybe they're like TV's or Stephen King books, they just appear.  If you don't have one, someone will incredulously insist you take one from them, there are three of them on the curb right now a block from here you can walk down there and get one.

***

We're having guests this weekend and I suddenly feel like we don't have any guest pillows in the house.  I need someone to incredulously thrust some wayward new pillows into my possession. Do people still put the guests towels out? Is it possible for people with children to even have nice towels? I'm forgoing the nice towels and spending the money on Mrs. Fischer's local potato chips and booze instead.  That's more like the kind bed and breakfast I'd run.  You get crappy towels but we make a good martini and then you no longer care about the scrabbly terry-cloth parts hanging down past your knees after you get out of the shower. We're all that and a bag o chips!

Waiting

I was watching snow fall to the left, swiftly change direction and flit right on the endless breath of wind responsible for the biting chill in my hands.  The old mechanic scurried to and fro past the open door, grabbing potions and oils, tools and rags while I rubbed my hands together trying to warm them.  Boat propellers and trap shooting trophies filled dusty shelves next to a pot of coffee I'm sure hadn't been washed since my last oil change. I spent a long time looking at the tall cardboard tube of Domino Sugar imagining it being grabbed several times a day dispensing into thick cups of burned and sour coffee.  It's letters rubbed off and the dark oil of machinery and human fingers layered into a fine shiny amalgamation across the side.  I recognized my car's engine running in the next room and looked up in time to see the mechanic rushing back and forth again, raising my hopes. It was another thirty minutes of watching the snow agitate through the glass and uselessly rubbing my hands together before I would make my escape.

yep

http://www.lunarbaboon.com/comics/miracle.html

Mighty

Some days I feel like I kicked ass.  This day I managed to; get two kids to school and home safe and clean with homework done and snacks/lunches packed, finished an illustration of someone's house, calculated shipping to France, went to the dentist, got two fillings, hit the hardware store, the copy shop and the grocery with a numb face.  Cooked dinner, vacuumed, did a load of laundry all before leading a Girl Scout meeting while simultaneously entertaining a four year old boy at the meeting.  I'm still trying to catch up from when I was sick, so some some days this week have extra things in them, so they look like today but with added phone calls, errands, laundry, coffee and staying up late. Sometimes when people say I should sit down and try a new show on TV or I really should read the book their telling me about I feel like kicking them in the shins.

Let me Share the Awful.

Last summer I broke my leg.  On the eighth day of having a broken leg I got the flu.  I don't mean lay in bed with body aches flu, I mean jump up and run to the bathroom so your body can turn itself inside out flu. But I had to do that with a broken leg and I wasn't very good at crutches yet and every time I moved my leg fast it hurt. I had it for two days.  Every cell in my body was taxed so hard that on the third day even though I felt better all I could do was lay in bed and have Gatoraide brought to me.  Then, my body hurt from being in bed for so long and I had to flip over every few hours to keep from cramping up into a giant knot of hurt.  Flipping over is hard when you have a broken ankle and no reserves.

That's the whole story.  I got better and my ankle healed and there really isn't any point to this story other than it sucked, a lot and I was sitting here eating toast this morning and thinking "That was awful!" and then I decided to type it out and share the worst out here on the internet, where I will read back one day and agree... yep that was indeed awful. The End.

Insomnia & Other Stuff

I gotta start getting more sleep.

***

Jack eats a ton of ice cream.  I can't seem to find a good brand that doesn't have a crap ton of sugar in it so yesterday I splurged and bought an ice cream maker.  I made the first batch last night without sugar.  The recipe was cream, milk, sugar, vanilla.  I made it with cream, milk, vanilla and a little tiny bit of honey.  It's not good.  Today I'll dish it out and spoon crumbled cookies and Nutella into it, stir it into a big chunky chocolaty mess and then reattempt.  I hope the children will try another bite after I jazz it up.

***

I'm tired of rain.

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I volunteered to co-lead the kid's Girl Scout Troop.  It's a big troop, lots of giggly girls all talking at once.  I'm going to help lead the art badge activities.  It should be super fun.

***

I gotta start getting more sleep.

What I Wanted

I wanted to write a piece about what it might be like living as an artist in a socialist nation.  I wanted to make five tins of fudge and fold all the laundry.  I wanted to sand that slice of oak from my grandparents' forest until it was smooth and soft and glassy. I wanted to send out letters telling people what happened all year and I wanted to make it to the gym and to give blood and have a new key made and get stamps at the post office. I wanted more day in this day.

Lottery

Sure, I could stop worrying how to make ends meet and I'd have way better health care, but I'd still live right here, I'd still drive my same car, I'd still eat my favorite breakfast ever - toast and coffee, I'd still fold my own socks when they come out of the dryer and I'd still be trying to get the kids to eat more vegetables.  I think I would travel just a little more to some prettier places and maybe I'd have a second car to zoom around town in, something small and red perhaps, and I could give a little more to the charities I like.  I'd still be looking for a reliable babysitter for my family to fall in love with.  For sure I'd have a bigger bathtub and a fluffier bed.  But mostly, you'd find me here, raising my babies, typing posts for this blog and getting the good pen out to draw and paint things for people I love, just like always.

These Packed Days

I had another one of those nonstop days packed with doctor's appointments, grocery store errands, leaf raking, sick tree diagnosing, scheduled after school activities followed by open house, book fair and a 7:30pm cooking of three different dinners for my picky people, with a liberal dose of dog hair and some potty training and the day felt as arduous as this run on sentence.

It all moves so fast I hardly have time.  I keep taking photos, hoping at some point I will be able to sit down and see what happened.  I imagine, the day after Jack goes to college looking through seven hundred thousand photos and laughing at how busy and frazzled it all was.  And then I'll sleep for a week.

Sat night memorial for a friend who passed

Five Things I feel Outstanding About

1. Being up at an early enough hour to get one kid off to school after the other kid was up barfing in the night.

2. Using up the entire train table by making three loops, including a bridge with the wooden train set.

3. Giving Jack a super cute, mostly even, tear-free haircut with kitchen scissors, while he sat on the coffee table and watched cartoons.

4. Keeping three house-plants alive.

5. Spring.

6. Getting the dishes into the dishwasher.

7. Eating oranges.

8. Not turning the AC on yesterday.

9. Toast.

10. Overshooting this list by double.

40

Today was pajama day and school.  The Kid was so excited about the prospect of jumping out of bed and going straight to school in the stuff she slept in that she got up at 6am and asked every twenty minutes if it was time to go yet.  The Baby on the other hand was sawing logs up until I carried him out to the car because he was up partying and jumping on the bed until 1am.  So, today I exist on this low mellow plane where nothing can happen very fast because I'm still half asleep and the whole day is surreal. 

***

I had to edit it down to 200 words or less.  It was excruciating but worth it. Last Sunday my letter to the editor was published in the Rockford Register Star.

"Last week we ventured to Midway Village in Rockford, IL for the WWI re-enactment. Face to face with history, we learned about blacksmithing, typesetting, and the American Red Star Animal Relief. That afternoon, I gathered my children close, among the crowd, for a battle re-enactment. My daughter squeezed into me admitting she was scared. I hugged her telling her war is scary, you have to be brave. The crowd hushed as rounds of blanks exchanged, men fell clutching themselves, quietly closing their eyes. When the shooting stopped, a chorus of women's voices rose. Wearing sashes, they emerged yelling, "What do we want!" "The right to vote!" "When do we want it?!" "Now!" I whispered to my daughter to raise her fist in solidarity with the Suffragettes. We stood proud as the women of our past marched and men standing among us laughed and yelled "No!" On Saturday afternoon, amidst jeers from the crowd, my nine-year-old daughter not only learned of the struggles of history, but the struggles ahead. One in which the men we stand next to think it's hilarious to yell "No!" to women's rights. Thanks guys, for teaching her early why she needs to be brave."

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After getting to captain my team to a win last weekend against the Decatur Derby Dames (141 to 101) I bought myself tall black athletic socks from Sock Dreams and this derby patch from Donna "The Hot Flash".  Today it's official I can sew it onto my warm up jacket.  Happy Birthday Me!




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Vivian Maier