Cereal Town: Welcome Home

The morning was cool and crisp.  The sun was shining bright. The day had finally come, the one that citizens had been dreaming of… for minutes.  As the baby sister slept and the mama dreamed a morning free of toddlerfititis, Cereal Town was born.  Cereal Town, established 2011.

It started small, as all cities do, but within hours, it became a thriving metropolis.  Naturally, cereal town would never withstand an earthquake, being constructed of cardboard and scotch tape, but in its short life, it has already survived one natural disaster known as the fierce Hudson monster.

Cereal Town is a wonderful little town, with features that you might see wherever you live.

Yet, unlike some places, it prides itself on fiscal responsibility and government officials who actually want to keep it running, rather than run it into the ground. 

It is full of Dr. Seuss like trees and quaint flower gardens.

And much like other cities and animated films, the animals escape from the zoo. 

Cereal town is part city/part car playground, although owning a car here, may cost you a pretty penny.

Unless, you are the right kind of car.

Home of the raisin bran tower, the batman building (a tribute to Nashville), and the world famous l’arc de peanut butter.

Which is short for l’arc de peanut butter wafers.

And that’s Cereal Town, a place that prides itself of the virtues of being green and subtle advertising. 

Cereal Town, fun for all ages.  Welcome home.

stretching the creative muscles

Tonight, I opened my sketchbook, my pretty, pretty book that I fell in love with on the shelves of Barnes & Noble on my birthday in 2009.  I dreamed of filling its pages with all the inspiration and ideas that it could possibly contain. 

And that is exactly what I did… for a while.

Before tonight, my last entry was from February 6, 2010.  It reads,

“Beyond your wildest imagination, this He has for us.”

As my charcoal pencil stretched and scribbled across the crisp white page, it felt both foreign and familiar.  Much like the Pilates that I did this evening, {also} for the first time in ages.  Even the most basic exercises were a little more difficult than I would like to admit, but I did just spend most of last year growing a child, so whatever.

After Pilates I always feel wonderful, my body feels whole, my mind calmed and refreshed and yet somehow I still neglect it.  I have no good excuse.  As an artist, that very same sentence applies to how I feel about art. I feel the most alive, the most refreshed, and the most at peace when I’m creating, dreaming, and designing. Because, at those times, I feel the most connected to my creator.

And yet, sometimes I let the sketchbook sit on my desk closed for too long.  Sometimes, it’s too easy to walk past the blank canvases on my shelf and engage in some brain-numbing activity instead, because I’m exhausted. Isn’t it tragic that we often opt out of doing the very things that make us feel like the best versions of ourselves, because another option feels easier? safer?

When was the last time you did something you love? Do you remember the last time you…

baked a pie. wrote a letter. painted. took a walk. danced. played piano. practiced a foreign language. dreamed. indulged your creativity. made someone’s day. read a book. picked a bouquet of wild flowers. stood on the beach. watched the sunset. rode your bike. opened your sketchbook. did the very thing that you love, that which makes you feel the most alive?

Minnesota: only the brave (read: crazy) survive

Only in this crazy state of Minnesota would 50 degree temps lure us out from months of hibernation for a “spring-time” walk.  This places makes people do crazy things, for starters… live here.  But, we’ll save that for a  rainy day.

Sunday, we braved the cool temps and walked down a few blocks to one of our favorite places, the lake.  Every time I walk outside, I still expect that bitter chill to consume me and when it doesn’t I do a little dance.. in my head.  But, I will take 50 degrees and be happy about it, but only if winter never ever comes again.

Why, yes, the lake is STILL frozen..ish.

Little h enjoyed the walk all snug and warm in the mei-tai.

Across the way is our favorite beach and park.  I vaguely remember swimming in the lake last summer,  but will this lake ever return to a liquid state? 

  

This tree is all kinds of inspiring.

And then H was not impressed at how loud real trains were, as he held on tight to daddy and through his sobs, whimpered, “choo-choo.”  Sometimes reality hurts, kid.

And then we came home, watched Thomas (the train) and everything was right in the world again.