proof

Last week, with Squirt at my parents' for four days, I spent a lot of time online. I was hanging out on FaceBook, posting and commenting away, and I had some nice - almost conversations there - from inside my own space, my own life. And instead of being uncomfortable, or even angry - for wasting time when I could have [...], I took a long hard look at what I'd been sharing, and found myself happy! I've been on the other end of the spectrum more often, and for longer than I care to ponder right now, so there was a sense of wonder at finding myself... okay!

Of course, spending time online means you're not consciously breathing, feeling your feet, being present in your life, exactly. I know that. It's all by comparison, even if you're not actively comparing yourself. I was looking at my life in a mirror, and it reflected back to me how I was sharing my life, what I was sharing, perhaps even how I was selling myself. But I wasn't. I was actually sticking with me. I was posting about what made me happy, what made sense, what was good inside my day. Maybe I wasn't inside my life down to my toes, digging in, growing roots; but I was standing tall with my life.

I think I've quietly stumbled upon the why of my need to document Summer! It's a way of being aware. Maybe not always exactly in the moment, but it's a good start. Being aware of the fact that there is joy, and happy, and beauty - finding out where I see it, what catches my eye - what do I draw, what do I photograph? - the journey through my days...

I love and appreciate and see the need to feel my feet, to breathe slowly in & out, to be where I am, but it's not enough. That - doing that - being present? It helps to combat the fear of being present, and I need that, solidly! But I'm also on a journey to find treasure in my life - to document and take it out of the moment, to fill my travel pack, my water bottle.

And it's not to hold on to moments - although I don't think there is necessarily something wrong with holding on to memories, as long as life doesn't become all about yesterday - it's about documenting, or maybe even more accurately, about mining my life. To find soul where I travelled. To learn about where it hides, on a deeply personal level, inside my life!

Because - and I deeply appreciate how this falls into place and guidance emerges - what I've written and cried about so many times is - I've never known where to look, where to find something, anything to help me claw out of that dank pit I fall into when I do (it's quite too early to say 'used to', but here's to hope, nonetheless!). I don't know where my happy really lives, and that's the sad truth.

And I'm not there yet, I haven't found the well - but that's okay, because this is fun :) I'm catching glimpses by looking at what I've gathered in my Summer 2013 file, so far! Glimpses, not storylines - nothing set in stone, trapped by cement, unmovable, fixed. Because it's impossible to recreate a happy moment, trying only dispells the magic and adds frustration and sadness to the mix. But I can find a similar colour, hear a sound, catch the light, indulge in sweet, salty, sour tastes, reflect in droplets, kiss a flower, or find that coffee at the exact right time!

I'm going from moment to moment right now, and it's... pretty :) I relish, revel, remember and rock - but I'm also collecting treasures & imagining a map. I'm looking for what makes me curious, for what makes me smile - I'm looking for what I'll know when I feel where it is :) That's what I'm after - but quietly, furtively almost, because these are secrets and surprises. Here is no place for brute force or overthinking. These things will reveal themselves to me, over patience and time. I won't have to wait for them - I can draw and photograph and capture beyond words. It will further unfold with life and time. It's elegant in its simplicity and imperfection - who knew? - and it's all as much here as ahead!

I realise this means that - apparently - I need proof. Proof of being well, being okay, being enough. But being who I am, knowing where I was, it's exactly right, like that. There is victory in the realisation that there is much to document as proof of being well :) I've conquered ground, I've kicked and left behind hurdles I never even knew were in my way - and I'm... taller for it all. & if I need proof for a while, before knowing, finding, seeing becomes second nature? If I need any permission, for any of this? Here it is:

You GO, sweet pea! To your heart's content! Gather clues and document! Find out what makes your mouth water and give IN! Find out what makes you smile and get some MORE! Be wild, mudane, Fabulous and boring! Find yourself there - exactly where you are & draw it - take a photo, sing a song - do whatever it takes to find it and bring it home!

This is for you, too. Permission! To do what needs doing & document. Or not! Whatever you need to kick a home-made rule or two to the curb & hang out with what makes you tick! Go! Go tick! I'll be here, waiting to hear where you took yourself today :)

summer

I've been getting messy with ideas, thoughts and concepts in my head - struggling with the whats and how tos - because I would love to document this Summer... It's been, and still is, interesting ;) I'm running into a lot of things I sort of knew about myself - stuff involving rules and guidelines. Being good enough, and allowing myself. Full stop. Allowing myself is very inclusive, and even if I wanted to get less vague, explain myself, I can't. Not yet, maybe never. What I'm finding out is - perhaps it doesn't matter. And that - is revolutionary. 

I don't have the peace and quiet to come out with everything in my head right now. It's Summer. We're halfway through the first week of Squirt's school holidays and life is different around here ;) It's noisy, filled with life, questions, blow-by-blow reports of how to build the perfect Lego Duplo house - and everything else ;)

"Can I ride my bike, mamma, where are we going, what's next, can I have ice cream, will you come to the playground with me, what's for dinner, why does everyone go on holidays, don't you think I could get a present because it's holidays?"

:D

It's good, and I mean that ;) But the main thing I'm confronting at the moment is - how do I document this Summer? What do I draw, what's important, where does joy live, and does that matter? Where am I, what am I looking for and what do I need to remember about being here, now, in this moment, Squirt's first Summer holiday after starting school? Yes indeed, where am I in the middle of all this? Can I let go, enjoy? Can I hold onto my newly found sanity without all this time I've learnt to spend with myself? Will I still be here, at least somewhat, when Squirt goes back to school, or will I need to reinvent the wheel all over again? 

Questions. Lots of them. But what I was thinking this morning is - if I don't start doing, documenting things - putting them somewhere, sharing it all - then there is nothing that can grow, either. As long as everything that's in my head - stays there, concept-form, nothing happens. What isn't out there can't evolve into something new, can't be tweaked. It can be thought to death of course - I'm good at that, that I know. But can I work it? Can I be there & do? Can I be here, can I - at least try - to blog about it as it happens? The blue skies, clouds, the humidity and the rain? The happy and the something - the mundane, the questions and the yays of it? 

The only thing I know now - is that if I don't try, nothing happens. So I'm confronting another little truth about myself here. The belief that without a script, nothing comes of any plan. I'm here, and I'm going in without a plan. I'm all organised around this new-found - blankness :) I'm going to photograph what strikes me when it does, and draw what bites my pencil. Daily, as much as I can. That's my plan. So here's what's happened so far:

We went to the local swimming hole ('t Twiske) on Monday, and had a lot of fun :D I'd completely resisted the idea of going there, putting on my bathing suit and being where I was - playing with my kid in my white and less-than-perfect body with all these other people there - but I went. For the first time since we moved here back in 2010, I'm one of those moms, and it felt like a weight was lifted! I know it sounds dramatic, but it's true nonetheless. I don't have to wish a cool mom onto my kid - I am one now, and not just because he had fun, either ;)

I cleaned the garden on Tuesday, and here's where we can lounge now:

Of course, that depends on the weather, too ;) It's not as hot or sunny anymore, but to be truthful, both me and the kid are better for it. And it looks cozy ;)

I cleaned out the sand pit and returned it to the neighbour we borrowed it from. Weepy moment. On the bright side, I found and photographed the biggest slug EVER underneath :D But that's a drawing still waiting to happen, so you need to hold your breath for it ;)

Yesterday was a bit of a non-event because I didn't (and still don't) feel too hot. A cold in the wings, in fact. But I did draw nonetheless:

Squirt said he thought holidays warranted a present, and I agreed. A non-pedagogical moment perhaps, but us parents are allowed some of those. Well, I am, anyway ;) Plenty of those, let's not get started ;) Besides, he only woke me twice during my sort-of-sick on-the-couch 15-minute-nap. So there ;) He chose a small Duplo Zoo set, and I drew it. Memories are where you colour them, right?! ;)

That's what Summer 2013 looks like, so far :)

& I'll be back. That's as solid a promise I can make, being here without a plan ;)

How are you?! How's Summer, or Winter, where you are?

solid

So I didn't take a nosedive. Which is as awesome as it is... disconcerting! Because here I was, all prepared to - uhm, nosedive into my usual shut-down-mode, which is where I generally find myself when chaotic happenings end (the need to take apart and rebuild everything I already knew) - but then I didn't. Which leaves me strangely at a loss when it comes to words. I'm in a good place - not Fabulous, but good, and it's unfamiliar. But if I wait untill I've got the words to bend with the road I'm on, this blog will gather dust. I promised myself it wouldn't, and yet it has been empty here for the past two weeks. I started to write and then I stopped. Drafts waiting for - clarity. Or the recycling bin. I'm not sure. Not sure of much at the moment, but - again - in an unfamiliarly good sense :) Things are cooking, but not boiled down. So here are some drawings that came out over the past couple of weeks.

Squirt's bikes. Which seemed like a great subject to draw - lots of lines and technical what-nots to fight with, as well as a good example of the theme I'd thought up for myself: growing. Yes. And then I found myself quite sad ;)

And then there's that. It wasn't immediately inspired by my kid undeniably growing, but it's a part of the whole story anyway, of course. It's something I fight with, still, at times. Not all the time, but it comes up. And right now, strange as it may sound, it feels like a solid thing to come up. Not something that will push me over any kind of edges, not something I'm making harder for myself, but something that is - understood to be hard. I don't know if that makes any kind of sense to anyone but me, but hanging out in a space where I'm actually okay, this is - alright to feel something about...

I don't feel like I'm on my toes. Of course I'm vigilant - I find myself in a strange field of wildflowers, and while I'm enjoying the scenery, and sniffing the air, I know I'm me and I'm vulnerable. But I'm dealing with things, as they come up, and so far?

I'm squeezing just fine :)

Hope you're fine, too. Hope whatever is on your plate is just enough to hang out with, on the sane side of things. 

Here's to whatever lays ahead & facing up! I'll be back... :)

tea

I've been doing some incremental thinking ;) Life's been really busy lately, but it's been good. There isn't always time and space to crawl to the bottom of things. Full stop. But I've been okay with that - it's brought insight, instead of mayhem. & that's a whole lot, coming from me ;)

I've been thinking about staying close to myself - as opposed to running off, exploring other lives. I've been thinking about my feet, about finding them where they hang out - and I'm slowly trying to bend myself around the idea that needing to stick close to my feet can also mean - is okay to mean - not always necessarily feeling them, but keeping them in sight. Not losing them altogether. Things might well be perfect if I could feel my feet no matter what - but maybe that's just another one of those things we're being sold.

You're not off to the shop to buy a wabi sabi tea kettle - this is a metaphor, so bear with me ;) You go to the store and they'll try to sell you a Brand Spanking New Idea of Tea in the 21st Century. Because the People selling The Kettle are all about Tea. 

But life - my life - isn't at the bottom of things all about Tea. I need tea to swallow life. So that Perfect Tea will never be all that, outside the Kettle People's laboratory. Yet I buy the idea and feel less than perfect because it doesn't glu my wabi sabi life...

But nothing will - & everything will. It's inside my expectations, eventually - and inside myth. Back to my feet? They're no myth & they're totally wabi sabi. & I could buy an idea - a laboratory-perfect idea about my own feet: that they'll never do unless I feel them, always. But outside, in the world, in my life? What if anchoring means: knowing where my feet are, approximately? So I know where to find them when there's space and time to have a chat and really check in? So I can give them attention once a day perhaps, instead of expecting nothing less than an open line - feeling disappointed and at fault for losing the connection more often than I care to think? What if that would do? What if that would be enough to feel I'm still here, still near enough?

I think connection gets lost at times because I've got overgrown ideas about its nature - bought straight from the Laboratory Doors. What if anchoring really means - to buy from a street vendor & sip from a cracked cup on the corner of Life and Lost? That feels like something I could actually DO!

It's worth a thought. Or better yet - let's have tea! Let's chat & stroll down Life a little, together - admiring our feet. They take us places - even on Lost - and that's magnificent knowledge, that!

expo

So here's how I'm hanging :)

Yup, bottom-right, that's me, naked in a shop window ;) Next to the toilet cleaner. Cool thing to claim about yourself ;)

That's the kid, behind the doors. Not too impressed being left behind ;)

I love the orange and blue feathers & thingies behind the drawings ;) And my own reflection ;)

And that's the kid again. Paying me back for leaving him inside the shop. Doing his own thing rather than pose with his mamma's art ;)

Yup, that's my art hanging somewhere :) And it really is a giant step! I'm not making light of it - this is an expo in a shop window, and it won't launch my artist carreer right now, just yet ;) - but it definitely does something in my head! Knowing that it's out there - I'm out there - for people to see makes it much harder to deny that I might be an artist :) We're going to have to see what happens when it's taken down - but for now, I'm an artist - and it's AWESOME :D I'm holding on to that feeling!

& not just that, I've sold some art work from my all-new Etsy shop & all :D Thank you so much, lovely friends, for supporting me - and for getting me to pretty much skip to the post counter singing 'I'm selling my ART, people!' :D Yes, I wanted to share that mental image, because it felt really, really good :)

Of course there is contemplation going on in the background. Wild thoughts and notions. What it all means and where it will go. And how it will take me along for rides. And how to stick with believing. But they're not for here and now. Now and here is for feeling proud and excited  - and wishing you the same!

Thank you so much for being here and being excited with me - it really means a lot :D 

x!

news

I know you might be expecting the photos for the second assignment of the Pure Photo Workshop, but I didn't get around to it... It's hard to admit, because I strongly feel that committing to take part means you commit to take part, but I've got some stuff going on in my 'real life' & I sort of forgot to make time. Saturday snuck up on me! All these single-day national holidays and visiting relatives (my father-in-law is here right now) warp time a little, and my head is spinning just a bit - so, quite out of character, I've given myself permission to drop out, this week ;)

& without much more ado, here's why I'm out-of-sorts: I was asked to show some of my work! I was asked! It's hard for me not to back that up with a story that makes it a little less impressive, but I won't :) I'm just going to go with 'I was asked to show some of my work' :)

The 25th of May to the 1st of June this year will be the Dutch week for non-professional art, and the Fair Trade gift shop (Wereldwinkel) where I volunteer is taking part, displaying art in their shop window. I've never made a secret of drawing a lot - so people know that about me ;) - but I was very surprised when the shop coordinator emailed me to ask if I wanted to be the artist to exhibit!

We decided on what to display - I was quite impressed with how she went for my style, as opposed to the more neutral work I'd slipped in - and I've been working on the prints, polishing little blemishes away since Wednesday ;) Here's what will be shown:

 :D

There's a lot of mayhem in my head. I'm fighting not to down-play, nor to over-stretch and it's hard work! I'm doing okay, I think, but I don't have a lot to say right now. No oversight, no insight either. The funny thing is, every time I come out of a bad stretch, promising myself that for now it will be all about drawing for myself, to be me inside my life, something happens. Something that shakes me up, tells me something, although I'm never quite clear on what exactly, while I'm in the middle of it all. This time, I'm trying to stay calm (haha). I'm going to try and wait this out - to see what might have shifted on the other side. Instead of forcing things to shift right now ;)

I got this flyer in my local art supply shop:

I took it, along with other flyers, and it wasn't until hours later, when I properly looked, that I saw I'm on it :D Not just that, it says 'kunstenaars', which means artists :D So even when I might still have a hard time referring to myself as an artist, this flyer doesn't, so it must be true ;)

(* the T means 'tekenen', which means 'drawings')

I'm ready for brighter days, and I'm not just talking about Summer and sun ;) Hope you're well! What's happy in your life?

everybody

It's blustery outside today. Storm, sunlit, with the fresh feel of Spring on its tail. The type of day that could blow the cobwebs out of your head if you'd just open up wide enough. Hope, and doable like scraps of paper, blown out of reach, but there, to see - and some days, that helps.

I've got no idea how to get started. It's been so long since I sat down and took myself seriously enough to be here. I've been rattling around in a life that seems too big for me for way too long now. I used to fill that space! I even overflowed it, on really good days!

I want to explain, I want to make sense of it - I want to get over it and get out! Part of me is screaming IT'S TOO SOON - YOU'RE STILL WAY TOO CLUELESS - TOO MANY LOOSE ENDS TO MAKE SENSE OF THIS!! And part of me, the quiet part, the little girl, she knows it's time. She knows I need to open up. She knows that this pain feeds on quiet - because it gets to be the only voice inside my head, keeping me in check. She knows the last bits of clean & sane know-this-about-me will mould without light. She knows I need air and wind and being naked. Yes. She's wise. And she's still there, so there's hope. (there's always hope, she says to me. she never tires of repeating herself when I'm off and deaf. she's plugged in, she sees these things much clearer than I do...)

I want to be poetic about it all - make it beautiful where it really stinks, but she tells me not to worry about how it sounds; and once again, she's right. Worrying about how it all sounds is what gets me here in the first place. It locks the door on me. It cuts me off from my gut, and from sanity, to put it dramatically, and that's always the beginning of the end.

This crap loops all through my life. I'd really love to say I'm getting better at handling it, but I'm not - not visibly, not obviously. And the time to get angry about that isn't - now. It's never. It isn't about getting angry, frustrated at what I'm doing to myself, although it always seems that way for the longest time; just kick your own butt, honey! that's all you need - a good whoopin' and you'll be right as rain. If you'd just get in gear and fit in, you'll be dandy and the world is right!

I'm scared of sounding too dramatic. I'm dead scared of being misunderstood. I'm scared of feeling like the only one who gets like this! I'm scared to throw myself out here, naked again. Really, really scared! But I need to. Because all this starts with feeling like I don't fit in, like I'm not good enough, like I'll never get it right - oh yes, elusive it, indeed! - and my first answer always is, to pull out. And I'm starting to think - okay, the little girl inside told me - that I'll never find glu for repair if I don't come out and show myself again.

Basically, it's really simple. Undone of pretty and sliced open, I was raised by a mother who Knows. I'm not here to vilify my mother. It doesn't help. Lessons learned are lessons learned, and in the end, the only thing that really counts is - how you learn to make up for it - how you learn to cope. I'm not here to excuse her, either, but I do know she wasn't out to get me. She meant well. She was - and is - just never flexible enough to realise that I needed to be right, at times, too. Because what I'm left with now is a broken compass. And way too much stock in what a fabled crowd of Other People think.

What I grew up with is this warped blueprint of how the world works: you do things right, you're good. You do things wrong, and this includes all versions of not-quite-right, you're no good, really. There is no manual for Good. There is no manual for Wrong either, but you catch on pretty quickly. You can gather it from a look, a word, a nod. There's a lot of disappointment involved, and you learn to apologise, because it's the quickest way to get on with things. And if you apologise this much, there must be something wrong with you to start with. That gets ingrained. Deeply. That feeling lasts. You hear 'I didn't say anything!', but you know that look and you don't need the words anymore. You weigh looks and gestures and you know. (have you ever considered you interpret too much? she asks, and yes I have. I have with hindsight. I know NOW. and it isn't necessarily too late to change - to learn to ask, but it's so hard to stop the damage mid-sentence, because I'm afraid I'll hear I was right; I'm wrong, and I really don't want to hear the words out loud...)

If I were asked to describe my way in this world, I'd go with tentative vulnerabilty. There is a lot I don't know. I know we all come from different families, different biographies, different circumstances - not to mention cultures, so I don't feel equipped to weigh and judge. And I don't want to weigh and judge. I like the surprise and the sense of wonder. I like making things up as I go along. I don't like carving things in stone, not being able to revisit, to re-examine, to try a different angle. I like to think, to analyse, and I like to brainstorm, to toss things into the air and see how they land. I don't know what was there first - finding a way to cope with being wrong pretty much anyway, or an innate curiosity, but this is what I'm left with. I'm tentative, I'm vulnerable, and I don't really know. I'm vulnerable because I talk about not knowing. I talk about not being sure. I talk about being wrong, re-assessing, trying again - I talk about that all the time. I talk about how hard life is at times, and how I don't know what to do to make sense, spin meaning, and I always hope for 'me, too!'

But I have quite a few People who Know in my life. People who are Sure. About a lot of things. They're sure about their parenting decisions, about what they'll eat tonight. About their politics, the colour of their underwear, their hobbies and how much time spent on those is reasonable. They're sure about their talents, their skills and their abilities. They know how to measure up, and how not to stand out in a crowd. They're awesome, they're good.

These are good, solid people, and I'm not here to vilify them, either. I know no one is that sure. I know that at least part of it is what I hear them say - because I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop, to be wrong, as I expect to be, at the bottom of things - and in part it's a - cultural thing? A contemporary thing? That we need to be seen to be sure? To show the world we know what we're doing? To have and hold opinions like they're our armour against change? I'm not sure (haha), all I know is, me and my open vulnerability, my lay-it-on-the-table attitude - when my solid ground starts sloping - I'm no match for their Knowledge.

I'm vulnerable because I expect to be wrong. And because I don't have a lot of worthiness in my back pocket on the best of days, let alone the slippery sloping days. I wasn't taught to carry myself, I was taught to - whatever you do, get it right. Without a compass. I don't have goals to fall back on when things start coming apart - meaningful stuff that will drag me out and up and into the light, because what I swallowed all those years ago was - life isn't about meaning, it's about not putting your foot wrong. It's about doing what's expected & about Knowing - being sure. I grew up thinking People Know. Hoping one day, I'd Know, too. Because Everybody Knows. Only really sad, silly, broken people - flawed, faulty, incomplete people don't know.

Some days - more and more days, longer stretches, it's important to remind myself of that! - when it's me and my gut and my brushes and my je ne sais quoi, and things are in place - I'm soaring with the best of them. I don't give a rat's ass about Knowing - knowing that I already do know on an instinctive, intuitive level that I'm alright, I'm okay, flying with my warts and who'll stop me?! But my gut gets clogged. It invariably does. Because I'm not necessarily heading somewhere - shouldn't I be headed somewhere - and shouldn't I Know?! As soon as I try to control being okay - hell, being Fabulous! - as soon as I try to tentatively, vulnerably explain it - as soon as I look up to make sure People see that I'm doing alright...

... that's when I see those looks, those gestures again. That's when I hear People telling me what to do, how they Know, how they got it covered, how their ducks are in a row. These People do a lot of their talking in my head. I talk for them. Inner mean chick does. She knows the drill. She knows when I'm ready to listen, and she takes no prisoners. She dresses like Everybody and digs in. I lose faith in myself and my gut, like I've always done in the face of Everybody, and I literally, physically pull back from the world. I stop seeing friends, stop answering emails, stop drawing, stop hanging out on Facebook, stop reading how everyone seems to have got it all figured out, and I don't want to hear about it either. I lock myself in with the one person who can make it all even worse: me.

For the past two months - give or take - I've been tearing strips off myself, reducing me to something not quite fit to feed a stray dog. All while fighting it, of course. It's been a war zone here - fighting myself for fighting myself for fighting myself. I've been playing footy with irritable bowel syndrome too, for the first time in my life - which is less than helpful when you're trying to trust your gut - but it's told me some truths by joining the party.

When you try to find your gut, your intuition, your I-know-a-few-things-about-me? Don't adjourn into your head. It's what I've always done - that's where the austere room lives in the world - but for the first time ever, I got feedback! It didn't help, and it still doesn't help just to know, but it's a serious clue about how to get out! And clues are good!

There are huge, gaping holes in this story. There are the things I don't know, things I'm not sure how to add up, things I don't want to drag up again, some good juicy examples of things that were said, and a good stack of things that would make this a book, as opposed to a long-winded blog post. One of the biggest holes is probably - why don't I throw everything at fitting in, if it matters that much?! All I can offer is - I think I tried that. Way back when. And it didn't work. I didn't get it. I didn't know what I was supposed to do, or what getting it right was meant to feel like - so I gave up. I think I decided at some point that it's - easier to come in from left-field, the element of surprise and all that - than to try and come in all dressed up, facing disappointment and a need to apologise. At least this way I could always claim they just didn't get it - even if it never really helped for long. Same fight, different coat - but it's how I 'coped' and I can't go back. At the bottom of the whole thing, it's always been about fighting the unfightable. Fighting myself for my sanity. Because it's about what I believe about myself, in the end, now that I'm all grown up. I'm not entirely clueless anymore, but I don't know everything. Ah. Elusive. I'm just not Know Everything-material. My personality can't handle it, my gut knows, but my head is stuck in the sand, ostrich-style. Or something. Holes, huh?

What I do know for sure, is that it's time to go out into the world again. Naked. Tentatively vulnerable with all I've got. And my brushes. I actually know at the bottom of all this - it's okay. I'm alright. I know more than enough. And the only way I can prove it to myself is if I go out in this raging storm out there and stay upright. One street corner at a time.

Do I like my personality? Do I want to change? Is it comfortable, not-knowing, and is there some sort of comfort in the falling, too? Some peace in knowing the enemy? I don't know. I'm forever much too close to this whole thing to claim clarity. What I do think is - I should get me one of those fabled Tribes, a gathering of Soul Sisters to keep me honest and on the straight-but-not-narrow - a new and improved Everybody to hear in my head and change my life! I LOVE reading about those, come across them all the time - great idea, too! Just one question: where do you get one?!

My story isn't all that unique. I don't come from unimaginably terrible things - I just live with a lot of harsh glaring lights and struggle, at times. So why do I get naked and share, anyway? Because I've been really lost, and really lonely lately. It helps, to write it down. It sort of feels like a fresh start, an opening to slip through - or the promise of one, at the very least.

And because I want to tell you - because we all need to hear it at times - 'oh yes, I get that. Me, too, sweetie. Me, too.' You don't have to say it, if you don't want to. I just want you to know you're not alone!

bone

I'm not throwing you a bone - I would never throw you a bone... If you're here and you're reading this - I appreciate you way more than you'll ever know! This is a bone for me... To remind myself that this is a place I like to hang out. To show some movement, even if it's corner-of-the-eye stuff. Because I want to be here more than I am, and I promised myself to keep a candle burning. Seeing that I'm still unable - but trying! - to make it a blazing home fire... ;)

After all that hard stuff, I'm not home quite yet - never mind the blazing fire! I'm not everywhere I want to be. I'm still figuring stuff out. Finding out about what's important to me, and how to make it all fit into my life is hard, hard work. And it takes a strong stomach. I feel queasy, some days, but I'm working on it ;)

And I've been busy. That, too. I've been designing Christmas cards to sell - printed them, dropped them off, to see a few actually sell! - and I drew and painted the above, sort of commissioned! I came up with an idea, showed the initial sketch to my lovely neighbours - who wanted to buy some of my Christmas cards to send to their business clients! - and they paid me to finish it :D

I've got so much to say about - making art to sell. Much of it is philosophical, some of it is about the hard work involved, and most of it is - about me, I guess. Whether I'm ready, to go there and put myself into it and behind it all. Whether it's worth the effort. Whether I actually love it enough. If I'll ever be able to really feel proud - from my toes. But that's another blog post. If I ever find the time ;)

It's interesting to find myself here - with these questions - after promising myself my art is for exploration and for soulwork. For finding the me inside this life. Until it's for something else. I had no idea something else was around the corner when I promised myself to be mindful about it all. But then again - these Christmas cards, this commissioned piece - maybe that's it, maybe that's all. & maybe - perfectly maybe - it's all okay, whatever is next. But I need to get my head to rest around that. And that's the hard part, right now.

So here, in this moment, this is it. Corner-of-the-eye movement, like I promised myself. Just to prove I'm still around. I was here, this morning. Not for long, admittedly, but I did show up!

39

This New Year? 
Not to constantly feel the tugs - big and small - that I SHOULD be things I'm not, but to finally be who I AM.
Yes. Warts & all.
Basically? I want to YAY my warts this year :D


P.S. this is a cut-out from a collage I did back in January. Note to self - and to YOU! - cutting and pasting random words from magazines, composing wisdom by accident, is a great way to cut loose from the crap in your brain ;)

laundry

smile

First day of the first week of Isaak's School Kid Carreer. Courageous kid. He feels it, too, of course. This really is momentous for both of us...

So I came home to an empty house and time. I'd promised myself I'd fill it with something. Something meaningful - as far as I know what that is, right now. Move past the guilt that claiming this time as mine and pristine brings up. Trying not to waver in my resolution to make this time count - for something decidedly not chores of any kind. Nor entertaining distractions, no matter how they whisper that they're easy and instant and will cure all that ails while I let them. I need to start as I plan to go on.

Here's what came up;

autumn comes & shines with an in-your-face beauty that silently SINGS

I'm smiling reluctantly & in spite of myself
letting my bones warm
guilt isn't made to hang on to
especially not the kind we pour over ourselves
masked grief needs colour
light
air
healing does start here and now...

In the end, it all starts with permission. Giving yourself permission to smile, to enjoy, to embrace, to really see what we're given to play with. And to play then. Especially when that's the hardest thing to do. Sometimes the only way to take a first, scared, clueless, hesitant step onto the daunting road ahead is to allow yourself to play with what's here, now. So that's what I did.

healing continues, here and now.

Will you give yourself permission to play today? Do something, anything - just because you know deep down that it's good for you! Chocolates - to help swallow the guilt - are on me today :)

mamma

Hard to get started on this one. Because I want to capture months in a single blog post. For myself as much or more than for the sake of explaining. I think it's time I wrap up the whole mess and tie it with a bow. Not because it's all done and dusted, or because it's chiseled in stone - but because where I've come from, where I'm at, now, is a new beginning of sorts. Not completely fresh, not entirely clean, but a starting point for the rest of it, at least.

This past year has been all about - figuring out where I want to go. At least, that's what I thought. That's what my internal ad agency wanted me to buy into, and I did, with a vengeance. I thought I was ready, for the next stage, but I was clueless about where to start. There is a whole world behind that, filled with never learned to dream Big about my life, but let's just say that by the time Summer came round, I was - disappointed & stressed out. In a way, I'm embarrassed to admit that I was stressed out by something so... selfish and quite vague to boot, but there you go - I was wrapped up in chaotic attempts at capturing the Meaning of My Life, getting angry at myself for not being able to just do it. 

So I went to Africa. My inlaws live there, it was an extended family visit, not a dramatic journey to find my roots in the soil where life began - although at that stage, I would have paid a price for a meaningful retreat with a local Sangoma who'd figure it all out for me ;) 

But the holidays were amazing, all on their own. Because I knew I wasn't going to find my Illuminated Path out there, anyway, I relaxed and let everything come the way it would. And it was beautiful! I saw that the world kept turning without me trying to spin it! I know it might sound dramatic, but I really felt I was accepted and loved - and I wasn't actually doing anything to deserve it! I'm sure that's been true throughout my life - as it is for all of us - but this was the first time I actually saw it, and took it in... And it led to all kinds of  - insights about life, about me, about feeling instead of trying to control!

So we got home, eventually, and I was all eager and ready to start sorting my new from my old perspectives, and run with it from there, but then I got sick. Nothing all that serious, but annoying enough not to be able to get on with things and be all new! And sick turned into another kind of sick, which turned into another kind of not-quite-right, and when I finally found my feet again - after antibiotics, a root canal and two months' worth of taking-it-easy - chaos had put on a fresh set of clothes and was solidly back. I woke up from being sick after taking a long and winding detour - trying to find out where I want to go was a lot like trying to run before figuring out the bones of walking - to find my awesome three-year-old about to turn four... 

I'd been denying and avoiding that can of worms, ostrich-style. Because I wasn't ready to face it. And I still sort of against the odds hoped that the Universe would hold off. Hindsight, my detour might have been a run for a shortcut. To be ready. To be ready-er. To be Me with a Certain Life; a dream, a meaningful goal, an end to work towards. A life that would immediately see good use for all that extra time - because FOUR (in the Netherlands) isn't just a birthday - it's a coming of age. For children and their mothers... Four is - pretty much - the day my child goes off to school...

Last Tuesday, my baby turned four. Beautifully, magnificently - wise, gorgeous, amazing & awesome - four. & there is hard ahead, in that. In letting go; sending him - reluctantly, completely! - off into a world of his own where he'll weave his own magic fabric & face his own fears and triumphs. Where I take another, bigger, step back - always there to catch, kiss & make better, but forced into the sidelines a little more. Less able to 'look inside his head', less able to know what's going on, less able to fix what isn't smooth...

I know it goes with the territory of - raising a human being. Because that's what we do, us mothers, in the end. Having a baby isn't about a baby, although it feels that way for the longest time. It's about teaching another human being to be ready for the world. & the better we do that, the more stepping back we need to do. There is beauty in that, of course, but it's terrifying beauty when you're in the middle of it! Knowing that  he's happily running away from you because you made him feel safe and confident enough to do so doesn't console when you're looking at his cute tiny backside & all you can see, all that drowns you, is the fact that he's off. Skipping, no less!

He comes back of course, with stories of his own to tell. And you're still a mamma, his mamma! & you hope - more than actual knowing - it will get easier with time. Because all your friends and people who care tell you it will. And you believe them because you want to, and the tiny - hindsight! - steps before got easier as well. But for now, for right now, the hole in your heart is so big, a world could pass through without touching the edges...

All of this wraps itself around me, of course. Because my baby is ready for this step. And on the outside, I'm cheering him on! Of course I am! I remember from being a kid myself - new things are scary, but exciting, and growing bigger is all you want to do!

But I'm left with a hole to fill. And along the way, since coming back from Africa, I've realised that - this year isn't about finding out where I want to go with my life - it's about finding out who I am. Who I've become. It's about seeing all that I've shedded and all that I've taken on - in bigger and wee little steps - to become the fallible but actually okay human being I am. It's about defining myself, starting with where I am, instead of where I was.

Because I came into being a mamma with a whole lot of bagage. I came from mud. I came from - never enough, and never going to be anything but a failure - all that, drowned in Chardonnay. And I grew, with my kid. I am a world away from where I was before. As a mamma. Here I am, on this threshold that looks like a mountain, feeling like I'm nothing but a mamma. Like there isn't enough of me to fill all that kid-in-school space with things that matter. It's exactly why I started this year thinking it was all about finding direction, when it's really, in the mud of things, about finding me. I've been hiding inside the mamma. Right now, I feel like I only matter in light of being a mamma. Because before I became a mother, I was nothing. Nothing of much consequence, anyway.

& in the middle of all that thinking, feeling and crying - so who am I, with this hole in my heart? - I found myself pregnant.

We've been trying for a second child for about 2,5 years now, swinging between failing to conceive and miscarrying (before you ask: we haven't seen a doctor about it yet. No. Because I used to believe in natural, and in accidents, and in belief, and trust, and hope, and in it will happen if it's meant to be. I'm losing balance on that perch, but that's another story). Another can of worms when it comes to my identity as mother - because it's hard not to think 'if I'm so good at being a mamma, why can't I be a mamma twice?' followed by the crushing thought that - I might be a mamma before and beyond everything else, but that doesn't necessarily mean I'm great at it! - eventhough I know, of course, that it doesn't work like that and it means nothing as much as it means everything.

My miscarriage started on Sunday, the day of Isaak's birthday party. And I kept it together, sort of, not yet ready to let go. On Tuesday, his actual birthday, there was no point denying it anymore. There wasn't going to be a baby. Not this baby, anyway. At 6 weeks, 1 day, I lost another dream. But I kept it together again, as much as I could. Because it was my amazing kid's birthday! Because Isaak turning 4, going to school, that was meant to be my emotional sinkhole!

And it was, and it is, of course. My emotional sinkhole is - being a mamma. Not being a mamma. How much of a mamma I am, how I measure up. How far does my mamma-ness stretch, and where am I, beyond that. Stretching myself around that pregnancy - gingerly - thinking that I wouldn't need to find myself beyond being a mamma quite yet, and the relief in that, too.

Life is as much about saying goodbye as it is about saying hello. I realise that. Life doesn't like holes, and as long as you don't go sit down in one, occupy it like you own it, it will fill itself with something else. Something meaningful, too - if you take care, are willing to see it for what it is. So yes, I'm open. I'm an open wound, but open, nonetheless. The gaping moment after goodbye is terrifying - when you let go of something - especially when it's something you don't really want to end; something you don't want to lose; someone you don't want to see leave - and you're not quite sure, never less sure of what it is you'll be saying hello to.

All I know right now, is that I'm saying goodbye to the baby I nurtured to be ready for school, not knowing who we'll grow up to be, either of us, but open to it, with heaps of love, knowing this 'in-between' will pass (and come again in various shapes and forms). And I'm saying goodbye to the baby I didn't get to hold. I'm saying goodbye to the me who thinks she's nothing but a mamma, and hope to discover who she is when that second skin comes off. And I'm holding this space - no matter how tiny it feels to be right now.

It's been cathartic, to write my story down. I'm weaving fabric here. The fabric of my human life. There is no point in construction - part of me wants to tie the loose ends and force the pattern to repeat - force the colours to match - but there is no such thing. Trying only keeps me spinning my wheels in sadness. I want there to be space! Space to see the sights, space to find roads and detours. Breathing space. Space to find the wisdom in hindsight - not that which masks as wisdom, ahead of its time and place. Been there, done that, and it's never yet led me to where I truly live.

It would be too easy - no matter how it beckons - to tie loose ends to make space. Because right now, I don't see much space ahead. But it doesn't work. You can't outrun goodbyes forever - say hello to whatever looks promising, no matter what - just to embrace something. There comes a point where you have to sit down and take your time with it.

It feels like I've been trying to outrun this while paradoxically sitting down with it at the same time - for months. In the shortcut I tried to take, in the months of inflamations, and in the too-real things that happened over the past weeks. Like I've been holding my breath for a whole year by now, only to find that it didn't help, and I'm not ready, and I don't know when I'll get up again. But I will. I'm already in the process of getting up, although not quite ready to move on.

I think I'm ready to take on all that time ahead - the hours when Isaak is in school - and fill it with not knowing. And to be okay with not knowing for a while. I mean really okay. An open sort of okay. Not limited by frustration or a need to know. I think, basically, I need to see who I am for who I am, and see what happens next. And draw some of it!

I hope you made it all the way to the end of this post, but if you didn't, that's okay. What matters to me, quite selfishly, is that I did. I'm here. I made it through to the end of it, and the end is merely a new beginning. If I let it be that. And I will. I'm willing and able and courageous enough.

I love this quote:
"When one door of happiness closes, another opens; but often we look so long at the closed door that we do not see the one that has been opened to us." - Helen Keller

& it tells me exactly where to be right now. 

space

Yes to space to be yourself. Yes!
And what is weird and alien, really? At the bottom of things? Where it matters, I mean?
I think it's all about - how much space you let yourself take up. I know I could take up more space. Should, even, in some situations. Stand up. Be counted.

How about you? Are you filling all the space you really need, to be you?

Day 26

It's my birthday today, & I'm not keeping my age a secret ;) I'm not ashamed ;)

I am proud of who I have become over the years. That's not something I say lightly, not something I say easily, but it needed to be said. It's been one hell of a trip so far, but I think I'm getting closer to being who my inner 3-yr-old wanted to be when she grew up :)

This past year, including our move (in fact, the actual moving started on my BD last year!), has been the best year in a really long time :)

Today, I'm grateful for my beautiful 'old' friends, and for the lovely & amazing new friends I've met since I turned 37 :) I'm grateful for the fact that I finally feel like I've got something to offer and to share. I'm grateful that those who knew me 'when', stuck with me through a whole lot of anguish and crap.

Here's to friendship. I feel a lot stronger for knowing my friends, for finally living geographically closer to them. I always knew it would be beautiful - & I've felt SO incredibly alone without, living away from the people I knew, hardly knowing my neighbours for the previous 11 years! This is the first year I'm actually feeling in my bones what it means to have friends! I'll be celebrating you with food today, people, lots of food & cake :D

Day 6

It's Day 8 of the beautiful month of November, I realise that... I'm playing catch-up from the get-go, here. I knew this would happen, which is why I'm taking part in both Art Every Day Month and 30 Days of Giving Thanks on the QT.

As far as AEDM is concerned, doing the work isn't the challenge, so much. I seem to end up doing something creative every day, whether it's an intention (mostly), or not :) It makes me endlessly happy, that does! So AEDM is great, because it's making me aware of how much time I spend on creative projects! I tend to complain a lot about not having enough time to do all the things I want to do, and it's true: I have way more ideas than time, for sure. But I do get to my creative work. And that needs saying too :) I'm grateful for recognising what I get to do!

The challenge is in the posting about it all! Do the work, enjoy myself and blog about it, too? That's where it gets trickier!

And then there is Shannon's challenge. Giving thanks each day of November. Gratitude is beautiful. When you do it right, when you try and feel it to your toes and back, it's kind, it's soft and it's mindful. It creates space, too. Space in your heart, space in your mind and space to breathe. I know this. I've known it for a while. But I have to admit, I need practice.

It's sort of heartbreaking to be honest about this, but being grateful is really hard for me. I'm a recovering perfectionist. There are so many sides and sidelines to this that it probably warrants a whole blogpost of its own, but I'll keep it simple for now. It's hard, because as a recovering perfectionist, I'm still having a hard time letting things go. Realising that there is no shame in leaving things as they are. That there is beauty in imperfection. That I don't have to make everything better, and improve upon improvements, perpetually. That there is space to BE. And breathe. And enjoy.

To be truly grateful, you have to be able to be still. To take stock of what is; not of what's going to be better if you get to tweak just a little more. And that's hard. I'm getting better at it, but it's still hard. A challenge. One that I need. For my soul (thank you so much, Shannon, for making me aware of this!)...

This is part I of my art for November 6th. I cut myself some slack and used Photoshop Elements on the painting I made for my friend's card. After all, she wasn't happy about the design per se, but I was! I made this painting with my birthday boy in mind, and so it was always going to be for him. I had never coloured something in PSE, but always wanted to, so this made me happy :) And I'm pleased with how it turned out!

And this? This was an exercise in letting go of the inner critic :) I was going to order a birthday cake. What with all the stuff and stress on my mind, I was going to be kind to myself. And then, just like that, I decided to just go for it! I'm not a pastry chef, but I can bake a cake! It's a brownie cake with lots of real chocolate inside & on top, moist & yummy :) To be honest, maybe more in honour of me the mamma than of the birthday boy, but hey! I was celebrating being a mom just as much that day ;) And I made some coconut-banana muffins for the kids, so I'm not feeling guilty ;)

My gratitude for day 6 of thanking in November? It goes wholeheartedly to my baby boy... Who is as far from being a baby boy as any three-year-old can be :) He's awesome!! He's more and more becoming his own self, with likes and dislikes, hugs + kisses & a dead-cool sense of humour :D

He changed my life when my life needed changing most. I'd almost given up on myself and my place in this world when he came along. He made me want to be the best mamma I could be, and for that I had to become. Full stop. I had to re-invent myself, drag myself up out of the mud by the ears and start believing in myself. You have no idea where I was. Neither do I. But I do know that I'm here, like this - getting stronger, wiser and more true to myself every day - because this amazing little boy, this gift came into my life when he did, three years and 2 days ago...

That's gratitude from my toes...

normal

I know I'm being dramatic here... But it feels traumatic, this whole playschool-thing. To me, anyway. To me, much more than to the kid involved. He goes, does his thing, and sort of whines when I come to pick him up. Funny. But not haha, necessarily. Not yet, anyway :)

ritualistically

personality

boring

I've been drawing & painting like mad over the past few days. I'd love to show and tell, but there's a lot of angst and negativity involved and I feel like I've been overstating that side of me, lately... These are times of transition, of growth and growing pains for me. I'm channelling lots of stuff into my art journal in stead of into words, and that's a huge step up. I'm slowly letting go of the idea that - if I can word things, I can grasp and control them. So I'm drawing them. It feels good, and I'm getting drawing practise in at the same time :)

But while dealing with things - or: look, pick apart, disect and study the remains - is a big part of who I've always been, life definitely isn't all bad. There's just not enough time in a day to draw all that and sweet smelling roses!

So for the sake of something completely different, I'm sharing our smallest room with you today :)

I'm trying to make it a happier place, seeing that we spend so many hours there, in a lifetime. The (ceramic) houses and cars are the latest addition, I stuck them up with double sided tape just this morning. We brought them home from South Africa, as an odd souvenir :)

My awesome neighbour and friend Tamar says Dutch toilets are the cleanest, but also the most boring in the world. She ought to know, she's a self-proclaimed, well-travelled expert on the subject ;)*
I started decorating toilets long before I met her, and it's a work in progress, but I'm bent on proving her wrong, anyway :)

*she said so in this awesome bit of stand-up comedy (sadly only for the Dutch speakers among you!):

carpet

I started this bit of art-ish-tics just to see how I could draw our carpet (using watercolour and coloured pencil, as it turns out). Then I got sucked into drawing the hoover - pun unintentional, but on point ;) And this is where it ended, quite unplanned.

This is not how we coexist in this house! Willing or not, you probably gleaned I'm not always one for letting things go easily (although I'm fervently working on that - really!), or to let sleeping dogs get their much deserved sleep ;)

But we did celebrate 11 years of marriage, last Thursday! At times, dust bunnies take over the house - small & bigger arguments left unresolved overnight, petty grievances unaired, random crap rehashed and chewed again, you know the sort of thing ;) It sure as hell isn't always easy, but then, no one said it would be! But we're still here. And as far as I'm concerned, we're sticking it out!

Happy anniversary, honey :)