the space bar onmy keyboard only works intermittently rightnow.
likeeverythingelse I have decided togo with it for the moment.
it is what it is. thatseems to be mynewslogan. it is what it is.
i’ve beensayingit alot thisweek.
i havespitt up on myshirt. thedogstole half of my salad. i cannotcalm the babyrightnow. it issnowingagain.i don’t have time to call people back or write the long list of thankyounotes.ismell like sour milk. none ofmy oldclothesfit yet. ionly got fourhoursof sleep last night. thebaby is crying again…
it is what it is.
must write quickly. time is shorter these days.
spring is sneaking it’s way into the days.
life is smoothing out as we edge toward the six week mark. I am very in love with my little man.
enjoying quiet family time. lots of napping and tea.
had a nap yesterday and couldn’t wake up from it. it was the strangest feeling. have you ever had this sensation? as if a dream has taken over your waking life.
ironically (or not) my new book deals with making art out of the smallest bits of time, stealing moments from your day to wake up and pay attention. this is how I am living currently. stopping to notice the “movies” the sun makes for me on the bedroom wall. stopping to notice the “crack drawings” on the pavement in front of the house. trying to describe the smell of the earth as it melts.
in other news, I am a speaker this year at ICON 5 the illustration conference, in New York City, July 2-5. I will be in conversation with Julia Breckenreid and Robert Zimmerman (two illustrators I have long admired). In the talk, entitled “Come Together: Network Pioneers”, we will be speaking about creating community, in part why this is challenging for illustrators. I have a lot to say (read: confess) on this topic.
“In the house of a newborn, there are no walls. No doors, no clocks, no meals, no chores, no day, no night, none of the familiar coordinates we use to navigate our lives. We bring our babies home, and then the floor gives way and the roof collapses. Adrift in disorientation, I beging to sing.”
-Karen Maezen Miller fr. Momma Zen
how wonderful to read these words and know that I am not the only who has felt “adrift in disorientation”. what a strange new world I have entered into. like alice in wonderland after she had consumed from the bottle that says drink me and her body and world change in radical and strange new ways. so much so that you hardly recognize anything in your new world. things that were previously comforting (bed) no longer hold the same associations. things that you used to linger over, now become extraneous and all too time consuming (dinner).
and somehow, in the midst of it all there is a strange awareness that life is no longer what you thought it was. there is an aliveness that is pulling you to become more awake. and you thought you were before but now you realize that that was just an illusion. the real lessons in finding out who you are are really just beginning now. and some of it not pretty. but oh so necessary.
I have come to a place where I no longer find it helpful to consult books for answers on a daily basis. It is my intuition that needs to be applied here, it steers me away from the fearful panicked thoughts that don’t help me one bit, they just make me feel like I am flailing, (and failing).
“There comes a point when you stop reading the books and resign youself to what you don’t know. This is precisely how you come to know it all.” -ibid
trust the gut. haven’t we heard that one before. new moms become obsessed with ‘doing the right thing’, and yet ‘the right thing’ is some bleary object in the distance that you cannot quite identify because it is being concealed by all of the well meaning advice and boatloads of information from a million different sources (none of which you can keep straight any more.) i have become convinced that ‘the right thing’ is just an illusion, created by others who think their way is the right way.
there is no ‘right way’, (and haven’t i told myself to always be wary of those that tell you there is?), but there is a definite ‘what feels good for me even though I don’t really know for sure’. you can just go with that. really you can.
in this new world i know nothing. and i know everything.
yesterday, (or was it the day before, i’ve lost track), a neighbor, who I have only spoken to a few times, dropped off an entire meal, (pasta, salad, bread and cookies). let me say that this is one of the best gifts we have recieved in the last few weeks. not that we are not grateful for all the clothing and toys, but right now it is a huge challenge to prepare healthy meals, (never mind get a shower). I almost wept at the sight of all the foil covered trays.
so if any of you have friends or family that have a newborn, know that it would be a wonderful treat if you made them dinner. I promise you they will value it beyond words!
if my sleep were an object it would be a worn piece of black paper torn into tiny pieces, rearranged, then sewn back together with fragments of thread that are unraveling before your eyes.