I guess purple is my thing right now.

My mom and sister are visiting this week, it's been fun and a little overwhelming for the husband with all the silly girl movies/shows overload. All that I wanted to share right now is that my mom bought me this scarf from Target, and I love it, love it. I did, in fact the classic line, "Oh I need this," and she bought it for me. I wonder if that line would work more often?? Probably not, definitely not on the husband.

Happy 100th.

It's my 100th post here at The Saturated Palette, by the way, I got the name from something I read in Domino magazine... oh Domino, rest in peace. Quickly moving back to happy thoughts, here. I started this blog on January 18, 2008. I'm not sure anyone read it then, but that didn't matter. 1.5 years later, I'm still not sure anyone reads it, but it's not a popularity contest, I take pleasure in sharing my thoughts, projects, and inspirations. I'm a writer. I'm not sure that the 100th post is such a huge monument, but television shows always go all out for the big 100th episodes, and that usually takes five seasons. So, there's that.

To celebrate for the sake of celebrating, I have been thinking an awful lot today about one of the people who helps make my dreams possible, who enriches my existence, and after just a few short years, I'm quite certain that I'd never want to be without him, my Matthew.

My Matthew is one of those rare gentlemen with the kindest soul and he truly, legitimately cares about people. {Sometimes, I think he makes me look bad, because he emanates kindness and patience, two things which I don't always feel are my strong point, if I'm being honest.} He is a wonderful man of God, leader of our family, and naturally, my best friend. I used to think people were stupid when they said that their husband was their best friend, but now I get it. That's what he is.

He is an unbelievable father, so loving, so fun, and always right besides me, when the whole parenting thing gets overwhelming. He is adventurous, a dreamer, and a hard worker with a servant's heart. He is funny most of the time, but sometimes, he's not. I always like to point that out and he pretends to be upset. It's cute. He doesn't worry about being in the spotlight, but if you are interested, he has some really great thoughts to share. He is a peaceful person, we are peaceful together, and I love that about us. He finds contentment in our current state of life, but will never settle for mediocre. He's determined, as am I, to live within our means.

He puts up with me talking all about Grey's Anatomy, as if Meredith and Derek are real people I see all the time and he calms me down, assuring me that Rachel will, in fact get off the plane, but he will always roll his eyes. If something moves me to tears, happy, sad, or inspiring, he doesn't always share my strong sentiment for it, but he allows me to explain my inherent desire for him to understand just how it touched me. (He calls me dramatic, I am.) He sometimes laughs at me about how clean I like to keep our home, but I know he appreciates it. Oh, and he handles my crazy family rather well.

He is a morning person, he understands that I am not. So, when he can, he will take the baby and let me sleep for a few hours longer and I usually wake up to the lovely smell of coffee in the french press, too. He makes the best breakfasts and sandwiches. He knows I strongly dislike running to the store for something, so he gladly will go. If we are in the car, he always drives, I like that. I'm not that interested in driving. He always opens my car door. Also, about twice a week, I can't stand the idea of doing the dishes and every dish we own is filthy, he doesn't mind helping me with that. (Wow, he does a lot).

One of the best things about him is that he supports all of my dreams and creative musings. He encourages me to paint, read, write, bake, sew, create, or even take time for myself. He's awesome. He dreams with me about our future and believes that we will see those dreams come to pass.

I could write a novel about how much he means to me and how much he has changed my life, about how I was so independent before him and now I am lost at the idea of doing certain things without him. However, I'll save that. There are just two more things that I must share.

1. We have family coming into town on Monday. Yesterday, he spent 1 hour cleaning the bathroom, and I mean, he cleaned it. I think it might have even sparkled. I'm not sure I've ever cleaned it that well. He didn't have to, but he did, while I cleaned, dusted, and vacuumed. That's impressive.

2. This morning, instead of splurging on Saturday AM donuts, he made blueberry muffins from scratch, no out of the box mix here! Usually, I'm the baker, but he did it. Talk about delicious, they even had the sugar & cinnamon crumbles on top.

I know, he's a keeper. And the thing is, with all that he does, he doesn't seek recognition or praise, he does it because he cares and he knows how to show it. His character is displayed in his actions and words, a truly invaluable treasure.

I know there are many great husbands out there, but this one is mine and I plan on keeping him and growing old together. Society has downplayed the importance of strong husbands and fathers, but they make such a difference. It's necessary to take time to honor them and acknowledge all they do. Sure, they can leave dirty socks laying around and somehow don't hear the baby crying during the early hours of the morning, but that's silliness really, in light of all the good. It seems more common to focus on each other's faults, when we would all be better off for pointing out more good than bad.

What I'm really trying to say is this. I'm blessed and so thankful for my husband. I couldn't ask for a better partner in my life or a better father for my son. I love my husband, madly.

Readers, I hope you find as much blessings, joy, and richness in your lives, in the people around you and those you hold dear.

Happy 20th birthday to my little, tiny, baby brother, Jeremiah.

In reality, he is no longer little or tiny, but he will always seem that way to me. He is much taller and bigger than me, these days. I will always remember the day he was born. My parents, in their old fashioned ways never found out the gender of any of their children, so we were anxious to discover who would be joining us. I was desperately hoping and praying that a baby girl would be joining my ranks, because I was already outnumbered two brothers and zero sisters. I was only five then, but I remember thinking it would be tragic to have one more brother and remain the only girl.

We received the phone call from my dad, telling us that our new sibling was yet, another boy. I am not exaggerating when I saw that I ran to my room and cried for what could have been days. (Can a five-year -old cry that long?) I was devastated.

I eventually warmed up to the idea, but every now and then I like to remind him of my feelings on the day of his birth, because I'm his sister, that's why.

Everyday, I'm so proud to be his sister, he's caring, intelligent, talented, funny, and constantly learning about his faith. He left home and went to L.A. to pursue his acting dreams and while that process is a slow one, he's living his life, he's making life happen and growing along the way. He's athletic, artistic, funny, musical, smart, clever, witty, and good looking- I might add. Is there anything this boy can't do? Silly girls better not mess with him, because I can be a mean, mean sister.

We all love you here Jeremiah!! Happy Birthday!!!

nothing big...

Just a little headband project from yesterday. I made the flower a few days ago with no real agenda. As I was tearing up an old stretchy tank, I started playing with it on my head. I've always loved to play dress up, never grew out of it, I suppose. I honestly didn't sew a thing. The flower is pinned to the headband, so that I can change it out later, I like change. Next week, it can be a whole new headband. That's the way I like it, the ever changing accessory.

And, even though I didn't have anywhere fun to go yesterday, I wore it all afternoon and evening, just because I could.

something blue, some stripes, and a patch

Here's a little story:

Once upon a time, there was a girl who was so bored with the contents of her closet. She was very thankful for the clothes she had, but she was still incredibly bored with these clothes. So, she called for a makeover of some of the more dull pieces. This is one of the pieces.

{before}

{after}

Materials:

1- Plain tee-shirt

1- Sweden patch from old track jacket

2- strips of fabric (navy blue and white)

a sewing machine, some thread, some frustration at the ridiculous behaviors of said sewing machine, and a little bit of time.... you know, the usual. Voila!

dear _____

dear God,

thank you for another beautiful day. i'm going to be needing you today,

just like every other day. i can't do this whole living thing on my own.

thanks for being so amazing.

dear coffee,

i know i say this often, but you are especially tasty and necessary this morning,

after the all-night-wake-up-every-hour-fest that the hudson baby pulled.

dear regina,

love your new album and i especially find this song intriguing.

dear hudson baby,

you are nine months old now, but you are still to young to look at all

the pretty little girls, do you hear me? also, you still have the most

kissable cheeks.

dear mom and sister,

i can't wait to see you next week. it's been way too long. we are going

to have so much fun. the hudson baby has grown up so much since christmas.

dear television,

if i never heard the phrase "in this economy," again, i'd be ok with that.

dear creativity,

thank you for visiting me so much and so often,

i really enjoy spending time with you.

dear anthropologie,

i wish i owned one of everything {in my size} that is in your store.

i especially want this and this and THIS.

dear crime and punishment,

i should probably start reading you because cafe classic is only a few weeks away.

dear library,

thank you for having so many movies to check out for free. i am especially excited

to watch going my way and holiday inn again, nothing like a good christmas movie in july.

a bouquet of random

1. I'd like to be curled up with my book and coffee... because there's a storm coming, I can smell it in the air and it's lovely. I'm a huge fan of a good thunderstorm. I love the rain. I love thunder. It's beautiful and peaceful and poetic to me.

2. I made this yesterday and she wasn't lying when she said that it's delicious and addicting. I made it with the cheesecake flavored jello mix. Try it. You won't be disappointed.

3. I just saw this and literally have to stop myself from running out the door to the grocery to purchase the ingredients, because the point of a grocery budget is to not spend more than allowed. Silly budgets.

4. Hallelujah is one of my all-time favorite songs. So many brilliant artists have covered it. Of course, I love anything by Damien Rice, so this is lovely. But I think this one is one of the best.

5. I've been seeing all these incredible pictures from Polaroid cameras lately, and I want one.

6. I also very much would like to be the proud owner of a Kindle. Emphasis on the VERY MUCH.

7. The Hudson baby is nine months old today. Oh my.

That's all for now.

{Liv}

Inspiration Submission Drive

I have a new idea; it's probably birthed from my last post. I'm intrigued by this idea, but again, including others in my creative process is not easy for me. So, here's the thing: I want you to share with me, one quote or phrase or song lyric or poem that you think would be perfect in a painting. I suppose I could call it "Inspiration Submission Drive," kind of like a paper drive or canned food drive... But, I don't want your old papers or random cans of unmarked foods, I want your best words. I'm going to collect them and make them into a list and post them in my art room. I think this could be fun and it could also be scary. Perhaps, the best ideas should scare us from time to time? Yes? Let's try it.

little jolies

As of this evening my Little Jolies toys will be for sale on Etsy! So far, there are a just a few available, but I will be adding more as soon as I create them. You can see some of the others that I've made and sold here. Check out my shop Palette Theory for these little treasures and my original paintings.

i am an artist.

Good morning. Yes, I do mean morning. It's nearing 8 am and I've joined the ranks of those who exist in the mornings. I'm only awake for two reasons.

1. Since the Hudson baby found his way into our bed last night around 4am, he proceeded to wake me three hours later, but pouncing onto my face and giggling {by the way, he's officially a crawler now}. Good thing I love him, I'm not sure I'd appreciate anyone else pouncing on my face at that hour.

2. After pretending that event hadn't happened and thinking he may fall back asleep, if I fed him, he proceeded to spit up on me and all over the sheets, awesome.

Surprisingly, I am not irritated by this turn of events and have decided to start the day in hopes of making it worthwhile. It could have to do with the fact that I have something brilliant that I wanted to share with the Saturated Palette readers.

Yesterday, while relishing a few hours alone at my local B & N, I enjoyed a refreshing Venti Iced Passion Tea, my favorite summer drink. I take it unsweetened, not for any sugar-opposing reason, but because I love how tart it is. I'm a big fan of the punch each sip delivers. Sometimes, I add lemonade which makes it even better and more tart, of course.

Meanwhile.... I did my weekly reading of The Artist's Way, I'm currently on chapter 11. I'd like it to be known that this chapter is perhaps one of my favorites. I love everything about it. In fact, the chapter is what I really wanted to share this morning.

Chapter 11 is Recovering a Sense of Autonomy.

Autonomy is one of those words that I always acted like I knew and understood, but never really did. Hoping that won't happen again, I looked up the definition.

Main Entry: au·ton·o·my
Pronunciation: -mE
Function: noun
Inflected Form: plural -mies
1 : the quality or state of being independent, free, and self-directing
2 : independence from the organism as a whole in the capacity of a part for growth, reactivity, or responsiveness

Merriam-Webster's Medical Dictionary, © 2002 Merriam-Webster, Inc.
Cite This Source

That makes sense. Anyways, to me this chapter was an Artist's declaration. I found it inspiring and liberating. If you don't know me very well, you'd understand me better after reading this. If you do know me, you'll probably laugh because you'll find yourself saying, "that's so Liv." There may be some of you who read this and shrug, thinking, well wasn't that a bit eccentric. I'm fine with that. Here goes, it's a bit lengthy, so grab your warm beverage of choice and enjoy. {The words in bold are what I underlined in my book.}

Starting at page 178.

I am an artist. As an artist, I may need a different mix of stability and flow from other people. I may find that a nine-to-five job steadies me and leaves me freer to create. Or I may find that a nine-to-five drains me of energy and leaves me unable to create. I must experiment with what works for me.

An artist's cash flow is typically erratic. No law says we much be broke all the time, but the odds are good we may be broke some of the time. Good work will sometimes not sell. People will buy but not pay promptly. The market may be rotten even when the work is great. I cannot control these factors. Being true to the inner artist often results in work that sells-- but not always. I have to free myself from determining my value and the value of my work by my work's market value.

The idea that money validates my credibility is very hard to shake. If money determines real art, then Gauguin was a charlatan. As an artist, I may never have a home that looks like Town and Country- or I may. On the other hand, I may have a book of poems, a song, a piece of performance art, a film.

I must learn that as an artist my credibility lies within me, God, and my work. In other words, if I have a poem to write, I need to write that poem --whether it will sell or not.

I need to create what wants to be created. I cannot plan a career to unfold in a sensible direction dictated by cash flow and marketing strategies. Those things are fine, but too much attention to them can stifle the child within, who gets scared and angered when continually put off. Children, as we all know, do not deal well with "Later. Not now."

Since my artist is a child, the natural child within, I must make some concessions to its sense of timing. Some concessions does not mean total irresponsibility. What it means is letting the artist have quality time, knowing that if I let it do what it wants to it will cooperate with me in doing what I need to do.

Sometimes I write badly, draw badly, paint badly, and perform badly. I have a right to do that to get to the other side. Creativity is its own reward.

As an artist, I must be very careful to surround myself with people who nurture my artist-- not people who try to overly domesticate it for my own good. Certain friendships will kick off my artistic imagination and others will deaden it. I may be a good cook, a rotten housekeeper, and a strong artist. I am messy, disorganized except as pertains to writing, a demon for creative detail, and not really interested in details like polished shoes and floors.

To a large degree, my life is my art, and when it gets dull, so does my work. As an artist, I may poke into what other people think of as dead ends: a punk band that I mysteriously fall for, a piece of gospel music that hooks my inner ear, a piece of red silk that I add to my nice outfit, thereby "ruining it."

As an artist, I may frizz my hair or wear weird clothes. I may spend too much money on a perfume in a pretty blue bottle even though the perfume stinks because the bottle lets me write about Paris in the thirties.

As an artist, I write whether I think it's good or not. I shoot movies other people may hate. I sketch bad sketches to say, "I was in that room. I was happy. It was May and I was meeting somebody I wanted to meet."

As an artist, my self-respect comes from doing the work. One performance at a time, one gig at a time, one painting at a time. Two and a half years to make one 90-minute piece of film. Five drafts of one play. Two years working on a musical. Throughout it all, daily, I show up to the morning pages and I write about my ugly curtains, my rotten haircut, my delights in the way the light hits the trees on the morning run.

As an artist, I do not need to be rich, but I do need to be richly supported. I cannot allow my emotional and intellectual life to stagnate or the work will show it. My life will show it. My temperament with show it. If I don't create, I get crabby.

As an artist, I can literally die from boredom. I kill myself when I fail to nurture my artist child because I am acting like somebody else's idea of an adult. The more I nurture my artist child, the more adult I am able to appear. Spoiling my artist means it will let me type a business letter. Ignoring my artist means a grinding depression.

There is a connection between self-nurturing and self-respect. If I allow myself to be bullied and cowed by other people's urges for me to be more normal or more nice, I sell myself out. They may like me better, feel more comfortable with my more conventional appearance or behavior, but I will hate myself. Hating myself, I may lash out at myself and others.

Creativity is oxygen for our souls. Cutting off creativity makes us savage. We react like we are being choked. There is a real rage that surfaces when we are interfered with on a level that involves picking lint off of us and fixing us up. When well-meaning parents or friends push marriage or nine-to-five or anything on us that doesn't evolve in a way that allows for our art to continue, we will react as if we are fighting for our lives-- we are.

To be an artist is to recognize the particular. To appreciate the peculiar. To allow a sense of play in your relationship to accepted standards. To ask the question 'Why?" To be an artist is to risk admitting that much of what is money, property, and prestige strikes you as just a little silly.

To be an artist is to acknowledge the astonishing. It is to allow the wrong piece in a room if we like it. It is to hang on to a weird coat that makes us happy. It is to not keep trying to be something that we aren't.

If you are happier writing than not writing, painting than not painting, singing than not singing, acting that not acting, directing than not directing, for God's sake (I mean literally) let yourself do it.

To kill your dreams because they are irresponsible is to be irresponsible to yourself. Credibility lies with you and God-- not with a vote of your friends and acquaintances.

The creator has made us creative. Our creativity is our gift from God. Our use of it is our gift to God. Accepting this bargain is the beginning of true self-acceptance.

(The Artist's Way, Julia Cameron Pg. 178-183.)

I know... a good 90% of that was in bold. I told you it was good. Your thoughts?

{In the kitchen #3}

Ever since I started making the Rustic Italian bread, I haven't stopped. But, the whole point is to keep trying new recipes and I certainly do love a warm, crusty french bread. I am very pleased with how it turned out and it must have been good because we ate it all in approx. 1.5 days. This is the recipe I used. Do you have a favorite bread recipe? I'd love to try it.

Inspire

As promised, I wanted to share about the spectacular event called Inspire. I have been wanting to do something like this for some time and all the pieces came together. We had a smaller group than I intended, but it turned out splendidly.

We started the evening by enjoying appetizers, I challenged the girls to make something new, this was very fun. Hands down, the best dish of the evening was a Rustic Onion Tart, so very delicious. I will be making it next week. We even had an impromptu dessert or toasted tortillas sprinkled in cinnamon and sugar filled with chocolate.

I took some writing exercises from The Artist Way and had the girls fill them out.

Things like:

List things that keep you from being creative.

List things that inspire you.

List new things you'd like to try.

List things you'd like to change.

and some others....

Then I shared a bit about creativity, life, and inspiration. We talked about some of the items from our lists and of course, there were so many great topics that came up. We talked so long that we didn't get to do any of the other activities that I had planned.

I planned to do three different sessions... a free writing session, a collage session, and a session of drawing/creating whatever you felt like creating. I guess, that will happen next time.

Anyways, I had a wonderful time and I love how open and honest we were able to be. I know that I left encouraged to keep seeking inspiration as a way of life and I've heard from the other girls good reports, as well.

We are already talking about another event, needless to say I'm very excited.

because this child needs another toy??

Feeling much inspired after last night's wonderful INSPIRE party {a blog to follow}, I made this today. It's a travesty that this little boy doesn't have a soccer ball yet, so while it's not exactly the same, it is soft and rolls and it is big and cute, in my opinion. He loves the small blocks that I made him, so of course, he'd love a bigger one too. I used the same tutorial that I used here, except I made each square 8" rather than 4". How much fun are we going to have with this, his own giant block??

I must admit...

You might not know this about me, but I adore bluegrass music. It ranks near the top of my list for most beautiful sounds ever. Evidently, there is a huge bluegrass festival around here every July. It was last weekend. There was plenty of old time dancing, that was something new for me, being a Yankee and all. All I can say is those people really got into that clogging or whatever it was called.

Everywhere you looked, you could find a few people sitting around strumming some sort of tune, whether it's peppy, sad, happy, or silly... the sounds of bluegrass are real, authentic, and full of stories. I pretty much would be OK if my life consisted of sitting on the front porch on a cool summer's night, drinking sweet tea (or coffee) listening to some tell a story on their banjo.

There was also the element of people watching and any sort of festival always brings out the best of them... so, fun was had by all.

on adventure friday

We finally visited the Gaylord Opryland resort. I'm not sure why we've never gone before, or especially why we missed it at Christmas, but we had a wonderful time. I sort of wish I could live there. I'd take one of the top floor suites, I mean, if I had too. It might be tough, but we'd survive, right? I could see myself sitting on my quaint little balcony every morning drinking coffee from the french press and watching the people.

I'm a big fan of flowers and water, even if it's indoors and man made. I loved the little Italian restaurant, which reminded me of something that I would see in Italy, well, it reminded me of something that I would like to see WHEN I get to visit Italy someday. Anyways, it was pretty.

We even felt lost a few times wandering around, admiring all the beauty... so it became a game, trying to find our way out and doing so in a stroller accessible way... {that was the tricky part.}

After, we search the entire Orpy Mills mall for one of our favorite stores, The Apple Barn, we needed some apple butter and fig preserves.... and fresh apple donuts, of course. Along the way, we picked up a coffee from Starbucks (typical) and Matt even found a Bubble Tea House (something he used to enjoy in the Northwestern US states.) I thought it was a little weird and preferred my coffee, instead. Perhaps, it's an acquired taste?

At the end of the day, our legs were nearly staging a coup, but it was fun and we spent a little over ten dollars. Now that's not bad. Here are some photos...

Article K

Today makes the beginning of the HUGE giveaway at Love. Obsess. Inspire. If you examine article K closely, you will see my original painting, "Dream Trees," as part of the incredible prize package. I'm honored to be included with so many talented artists and designers. To see more of my art, visit my etsy shop or my redbubble site.

So exciting, right? Don't forget to enter for your chance to win all this artistic goodness.

Isn't this fun?

i heart

Real people.

in a real world.

believing....

they can make a difference.

check this out.

and never, for one second, think that you can't make a difference.

adventure friday

It appears to be Friday, thus...

We're off in search of some adventure...

It's probably going to be great and extremely low cost, because that's how we do things, both by force and choice. I like to pretend that it's more by choice, because we have vowed to live within our means. {and we're alright with that.}

they are my adventure partners in life.

we usually have this much fun.

coffee, my love

Mothers are those wonderful people who can get up in the morning before the smell of coffee. ~Author Unknown

.... Not in this house. This mother is no morning person, but thankfully, my love is and he enjoys a few hours of peace and quiet, while the baby boy and mommy "sleep the day away," as he says. {I mean, we usually wake up around nine, that is hardly sleeping the day away?}

Anyways, he starts his day by brewing a pot of coffee, he has this strange nostalgic love for Folgers, which I will never understand. I'm a french press girl, with that "gourmet coffee taste" {says the husband in a snobbish tone}. We usually proceed to "fight" over the whole whose coffee is better and naturally, I win. I mean, how could a basic brewed pot of mass produced, flavor-diluted coffee ever stand up to the goodness that comes from a french press filled with a rich Italian or French roast? It's better and he knows it.

Lately, we've been enjoying coffee from the ever-amazing World Market. It's incredible and so is the price. Who makes your favorite coffee beans?

Did I ever mention how much I love coffee?

P.S. The picture is one of my Noted Cards, you can find here.

life impromptu.

Some of the girls had made grand plans to try some fancy restaurant this evening in Nashville, but apparently it took us all until this morning to realize we couldn't afford such extravagance right now and decided on an impromptu Girls Night In. {Isn't that always more fun anyways?} + {More affordable}. It was both, indeed.

Here's the menu:

Bacon wrapped dates, stuffed with Swiss cheese

Roasted spiced chickpeas

Crostini with goat cheese, fig preserves, and walnuts

Spinach salad with strawberries, goat cheese, and walnuts

and something that can only be known as:

All that is good and chocolate cake with chocolate covered strawberries on top

and don't forget, a perfectly black cup of Starbuck's Sumatra coffee.

Not bad for last minute planning, huh?

There was plenty of laughing and chatting, but one of my favorite parts was going through this huge box of goodies that my friend had received from her grandmother's house. My favorite was this little hairpin with three cream circles and the center one had soft pink roses. I mean, I'd never wear it as a hair pin, but it would make a remarkable broach. It was full of all kinds of fabulous + vintage jewelry, scarves, handkerchiefs, buttons, and timeless memories. Great creativity was inspired by all those gems. The kind of creative goodness that made me want to come home and paint.

Also, every time I visit this particular friends' home, I am overwhelmed with inspiration. I love everything about how she decorates her home and often forget what the conversations are about because I get lost admiring this and that. I like having friends like that. I like that no one gets mad at me for doing that.

I even brought home a few little pieces that she didn't want anymore, can't beat that. When, all is said and done, I prefer a quality night in than a big night out on the town any day.

Plus, you can't beat a husband that will stay home with the mr. fussyhead baby on a Friday night, so you can get out for a few hours, no, you can't beat that.

Now, I must try to convince all the ideas swirling in my head that they must wait until tomorrow.