year five

Every August we have the same conversations, this is the day I arrived in California, this is the day we met, this is the day you went out of your way to find me a Starbucks, this is the day we took that walk. You talked about robots and were so nervous.  Pieces of the story that we never forget, that never fade into the mirage of the rest.  The beginning of us. 

It seems like anything before us was a lifetime ago. There was childhood. College. Us. 

Five years now.

The late summer air was thick and warm, typical of Bell Buckle, Tennessee. The barn was swept and decorated, not a single centerpiece looked the same, much to the chagrin of my best friend.  Mugs filled with coffee beans, table numbers and crayons. Paper on the tables for drawing.  Twinkle lights strung across the loft.   And a certain magic in the legacy of this barn, a story that needs to be pressed between pages for safe keeping, another time.

There was the moment I will always cherish, a sweet reverie just for me, as if to close one chapter and signal another.  As quickly as it came, it passed and Moon River filled the open air, my cue forward.

It happened beautifully, with a mix of blurred parts and pieces etched in the stonework of our memories. And every year we retell and reminisce.  It was a great day, absolutely, full of lovely details and special moments, but it was simply the beginning of our story, the first pieces of exposition that set the scene.  The ruffles in the dress that mixed with the pleats at the bottom. The way his face changed when I walked around the corner. How we tried so hard not to laugh during communion as we watched flies feast on our bread. The beginning is what draws us in and hooks us, but the rest, that is why we keep reading… living. 

The plot thickens, the characters evolve and grow, you begin to root for them through trials and find yourself in the most unexpected places.

This year, number five, it’s been full.  A husband working two jobs, two marvelous, loud creatures that sink deeper and deeper into our hearts, blurring the parts before them, redefining the meaning of  exhaustion.  The pursuit of dreams, pressing on through glimpses of beauty and struggle and waiting and blessing.  Pages full of love and light and shadows and painted skies and new mercies.

This is the part of long days, tired hands, and hard work, where love is decorated less in white dresses and slow dances, but in stolen moments, shared glances, and masked laughter (caused by your kid saying the most ridiculous and brilliant things when they are trying to get out of trouble or eating dinner or going to bed). And it’s no less beautiful.  This where were love grows and matures and deepens, refined in the fires of time.

Anniversaries allow us to retell our story from the beginning, to celebrate all the pages that have been filled in since the last year, and dream about the ones to come. 

five years later, it’s still my favorite.  

Introducing: Words in Color

I promise that this post is about art, but first it’s about money, because we don’t live in imaginary land and we can’t ignore it.  Unfortunately.

A few years ago, in our second year of marriage, we went through a course called Financial Peace University.  We learned some great wisdom and practices to implement into our lives to live within our means and succeed with money. We both had seen first hand from our parents massive mistakes regarding finances and we wanted to be smarter, to build a strong foundation.  Within the first month of the program, Matt lost his job, when his employer went out of business.  Thankfully, our needs were meant, side jobs, unemployment, provisions, we did not lack, but we couldn’t really begin our attack plan to destroy the debt we did have.  We were in survival mode, and we were not alone, as the country entered the mess of a situation we still face.

It often feels like we are still in that place, where we always have enough, but not extra to chisel away the bills that do not shrink so easily.  And you know, it’s life, this season of being a young family, living within our means, making it work.  The process is a slow one and we know that if we are faithful to this lifestyle, we will see the benefits. 

When we talk about dreams for our future, we speak of travel, art, missions, empowering others, and being supporters of dreams.  But, every month that feels so far away, when I send off the payments to student loans and pesky credit card bills.  Sometimes, we hope that those mountains will just dissolve, you know, who wouldn’t, but the truth is, we swiped the card, we signed the loan papers and there are great lessons to learn as we accept the results of those decisions.

Not too long ago, I prayed that God would show me ways that my creativity could be used to address this responsibility. Here’s a shocker, student loans don’t really care if you decided to become a stay-at-home mother and artist.  And not for one second do I regret that experience or the amount I must repay, it was so defining to who I am, the people I know, and the places I’ve gone.  Not for one second. Yet, my greatest endearments towards it all seem to have no erasing effect on the balance.  So, I said that most earnest prayer and within 48 hours, I received a serious monsoon of inspiration.

A brand new collection came alive.  Every free waking moment and some from my dreams have been dedicated to this production and I’m so eager to share it with you.  It’s special to me, because I believe it was an answer to prayer and because it mixes my love of writing and art.  Words and colors, the way I see the world; the way I share it. The idea was that each painting could be a page torn from a book, able to stand alone as a complete thought, but fit right into its place in a bigger story. Just like you and me.

Words in Color is a series of 15 small mixed media pieces. The originals will be available for purchase at a very affordable price, because I think art is meant to be shared rather than sitting in stacks in my home wearing a costly price tag.  Prints will also be in stock. All the profits will go towards paying off chunks of the debts quicker, allowing us to have more freedom to give, and go, and empower.

What excites me the most about this collection is how as a whole it speaks of hope, beauty, dreams, adventure, love, and encouragement— the things that move us and connect us and challenge us.

You can find the entire collection here in my shop.

the mistake.

I covered the paper in paint, with a color called fawn.  It was still wet and reflecting light.  From the book that I have destroyed in the name of art, I grabbed a oddly shaped strip without thinking.  My intention was to create a base rich in texture and layers.  The paper bonded with the wet paint and when I looked down,  it’s possible the world froze in time, at least in my living room, it did.  I shivered slightly at what I saw.

Art has a way of taking our randomness and our mistakes and making the best things happen. When we simply respond to the process and begin with the tools, it leads us down a foggy trail, where we see only one step at a time.  Every layer and color, shadow and edge, they come together creating something reflective of something bigger than us.  People  often fear the unknown, but I think the best outcomes are waiting for us there. Ones we couldn’t imagine; ones we risk never knowing.  In art and in life, of course,  because I find no distinction between the two. 

I looked down and I saw him instantly, roaring his dreams to the open night sky.  There is something huge in this torn-paper-bear, telling of life and the search that compels and sustains us.  We begin with the idea of the search leading us to where we will find Him, but really the search is where we find Him, in the middle of our doings, in the process of creating. The search is our life and in the responding and creating and applying paper to wet paint, He causes the best things to happen.

*This is the first from my new collection that I will be sharing soon and adding to the shop soon.