Unexpected Beauty

While at the Casey garden yesterday, I was amazed at so many changes from the previous week. These photos record a beautiful surprise discovered from looking closely through photography. The dill plant in the herb bed was very dry. The dried seeds fanning out in their circular pattern looked like lace from the top. This was what drew me in. Then, I noticed the ribbon-like dried leaves further down and bent to take their photo. Waiting for me there, was a spider hanging out on her silken strands. She never moved even though I observed her for a long time. In the sunlight, she was the same golden color as the dried dill plant. Her spider legs seemed just as delicate and brittle, too.


One more image from the top. . . with a little imagination, it could be July 4th fireworks! I'm signing off for a few days of vacation-- back mid next week.

Ballerina Blossom

I had not planned on posting today for this blog because I knew that I needed to spend my precious time on another blog and on the dreaded housework that has been accumulating in my busyness and which strongly correlated with the activity on the aforementioned blog post. "No, Julie. No. No. No! You cannot sit at the computer all day or wander around the mazes of Flickr. You cannot surf the Internet for new and interesting blogs. You cannot organize your growing photo collection and create endless photo collages on Picasa. Don't even think about opening Facebook!" You know your housework is out of control when you are embarrassed for the teenage sitter to come later tonight.

But. . . how could I resist this? I looked out the home-office window to see this little blossom floating in the wind. The white flower was attached to a run-away spider silk, so it appeared to be dancing on its stage of green grass. I grabbed the camera and wished I could have zoomed even more. I love the very short video below because the birds are providing the music for this tiny, delicate dancer. What a small and precious moment.

Two and One

Two girls.

Two friends.
Two butterfly dresses.
Two pairs of white shoes
on two pairs of feet.
Two hands.

Two leaves,
but
only
one
tulip
flower.

Note: I took these photos this morning after church. The flowers were in my friend's yard, and she thinks they are from a sycamore tree. Are they flowers? Are they fruit? Please correct me if I am wrong. In any case, they are beautiful-- especially against the turquoise dress.

From 4/21/09-- My friend Jennifer discovered that this is not a sycamore tree. It is a yellow poplar or tulip tree. Thank you so much!

Reflections

I've spent several hours today reflecting because of a presentation that I did about the Parent Leadership Institute for a Parents for Public Schools' Lunch Bunch gathering. Most of my day was consumed by this-- until it was time to pick up my children (and a few extra) from school, help with homework, and prepare for the next day.

Whew. Time to take a breath and reflect again before I go to bed.

I took these photos on a whim when I saw reflections of outside on the inside glass of framed art in the kitchen.

The play of light continues to amaze me.

Small moments of amazement in busy days like this are something for which to be grateful.

Self-Portrait Series

These photos emerged from just a few minutes of sunlight and shadows. I looked outside in the late afternoon and saw leaves on the crepe myrtles glowing in the sunlight. Then, I turned to find that the Jasmine surrounding the live oak was on fire. My shadow loomed large across the Jasmine-- almost as large as the trunk of the live oak. As I turned to look at the bark of the live oak in the sunlight, I saw silhouettes of something I love to do-- photography. I played with the shadows, and I snapped away.

On Fire

Rising above,
the sunlight found me

and set me on fire

so that I could glow
and dance
even in the shadows.

A Child's Lenten Discipline

My daughter surprised me yesterday. She had her Note Speller out and was putting little sticky notes on every page. This is something that her piano teacher usually does to mark pages in her theory book that need to be completed before the next lesson. When I asked her what she was doing, she said, "I want to finish this Note Speller for my lenten discipline. "

"O.K.," I said, almost speechless.

First, I know how much she hates the theory part of music practice (I did too, by the way). She likes learning piano by ear much more than learning to read the notes on the page. This week's material to practice featured a piece with lots of sharps and flats, and she hated it. She learned it, but she also memorized it so that she doesn't have to read the notes on the page.

Second, I didn't know that she had been contemplating either giving something up or taking something on for lent. Of course, we recognize the season of lent in our house. We live with an Episcopal priest. We sang our "alleluias" at Mardi Gras the night before Ash Wednesday. We wore ash crosses on our foreheads Wednesday evening. She still had hers on her forehead and had to wipe it off before school on Thursday. At the end of lent, Holy week will take over our house and schedule.

Lent is not something we avoid. But, I didn't know that she would use the words "lenten discipline" to describe her own spiritual practices. "Lenten discipline" is something her father would say.

I'm proud of my daughter for identifying something that is truly difficult for her and for committing to tackling it through discipline. After talking with her, there is no doubt in my mind that completing her Note Speller is a spiritual task even if we may not understand exactly why.

Tending to art

The morning started out gray, windy, humid, and threatening to storm. I wasn't in the best mood, but I went to my daughter's school to hang some art.

These collage portraits in the style of Romare Bearden done by fourth grade students at Casey Elementary made me happy. Seeing the art changed my mood. I sat on the floor in the front hallway outside the library tearing pieces of masking tape, looping, and sticking the loops to the back of each "person." I looked at how each student had taken pieces of magazines and made eyes, mouths, noses, hair, and clothing. One of my favorites featured a magazine picture of a window across the body-- as if it were a window right through the heart of the body-- right through the soul.

I like tending to art -- especially that of children. When I hang up art at Casey, when I pay close attention to what a child has created, when I photograph children "doing" art, it is a "soulful" task. I always leave the interaction changed and enlivened.

Finishing something old, starting something new

I started these gratitude wraps (back in December and January (blogged here and here). I modified the pattern to omit the bias tape binding, and I finger-knitted the tie closures. I had done everything except sew the closures on, so I spent some time yesterday finishing these up. Very gratifying. They are made to hold a small notebook, thank-you notes, a pen, and a package of stamps with the idea of always having the supplies ready to write a note of thanks.

I plan to re-purpose the design to make little book-writing kits and other Montessori type activities for my library. Not long ago, I ran across this beautiful blog by Meg McElwee which documents some of her hand-made projects for the Montessori classroom. Her new blog seems to be focused more on crafting and sewing in general, and it is just as beautiful and inspiring. It has me thinking about and designing handmade materials that I can use in my elementary school library. Now, I just need some time.

This new yarn is my daughter's project. She first learned to knit as a Kindergartner, but I don't think she has ever finished a project except a small scarf for her favorite stuffed panda bear. We were supposed to have her friend and my friend (her friend's mom) over to learn how to knit yesterday, but a stomach virus claimed their immediate attention. Today, I am claimed by the same illness, but I am feeling well enough to sit at the computer for some writing and catching up on some Internet research and reading.

I'm also starting a new blogging project for children. Check out its beginning here. Yes, I'm crazy. I am thankful for this bit of slowed-down time today which has allowed me to start this new venture.

Learning on the street

All of these photos were taken by my daughter on Monday while on a field trip to Farish Street in downtown Jackson. You can read more about the field trip here.

I let her take our old digital camera-- a Nikon Coolpix. While I was not able to go on the trip, I learned so much about it from her. She is so excited about the project that she wants to write her own book about Farish Street. Way to go arts education! This is what it is all about.

Weekend away and within

For the weekend away, I gathered yarn for a new project. When people asked me what I was making, I didn't have an answer. This is often the case when I am making some assortment of squares using the log cabin technique. So, I am sorry to say even now that I don't know what this will become. I enjoyed assembling the colors and choosing the way the strips of yarn would form a design. Coincidentally, the colors of the hotel room perfectly coordinated. The table top boasted a similar design. There were squares on the sofa pillows and hanging on the walls.

Then, to prod me along in my quilting journey, the backdrop for the altar/speaking platform for council (an annual meeting for Episcopal clergy and lay persons in a diocese), was comprised of 40 hanging strips of improvisational piecing. One woman from Hattiesburg worked on the bulk of it. It was beautiful. It featured 30 words taken from The Book of Common Prayer.

Lately, inspiration surrounds me in the most unexpected places. Getting out of town, I was not enthusiastic. Leaving the meeting, I was very glad that I had been there.

Two highlights from the weekend away:

• Meeting Rebecca Ding, the wife of the Bishop from a new diocese in southern Sudan. She radiated hopefulness and gave me a new perspective.

• Listening to Bishop Gray's annual address on Friday night. Hearing his passionate words about reconciliation, I could have become a pentecostal. I look forward to doing my part--especially in the area of education.

Two blog posts that describe the meeting in greater detail and offer thoughtful theological perspectives are here and here. Currently, I have too many questions, hopes, fears, and ideas swirling in my mind and heart to be as coherent as my clergy friends, but I am grateful for their words and insights.

It was a weekend away, but it was also a weekend within. And, like my knitting project above, it remains to be seen what this talk of reconciliation will become. We can get started, though, even if we don't know how the various threads will knit together.

Carpool knitting and thinking

On some days, this is the only time during the day that I am able to knit-- either sitting in a carpool line or passing time while a child is at ballet, choir, or some other activity. I try to remember to keep a portable project with me always for these little windows of time.

These times are also good for reflection, dreaming, and planning, and there is always so much to think about. Yesterday, when on the way to pick up my son from school, I had an idea for an essay I would like to try to write about how the lives my children have in school have changed and are changing my life. More later.

The practice of blogging is giving me the courage to think, say, write, imagine, and do.

As I have started tentatively sharing with more and more people about my blogs, I am often asked, "Where do you find the time? How do you have time to knit, sew, and upload all of those photos, and then write about it, too?'

Well, I can't say that my house is the cleanest or most organized, but it passes. I'm lucky enough to work "outside the home" half-time. I don't watch much TV. I multitask a lot. I don't go shopping very often. As my husband says, "People make time for what is important to them." I make time for this. Other people make time for gardening, or working out in the gym, or going to football games. We all have interests and passions.

But, blogging, knitting, sewing, doing art with my children or students, reading with my children or students-- all of this informs my evolving sense of vocation. I'm not sure that I could put a label on it. But, I know that it all feels right, and that it is all linked together.

Blocks

It took me 2 and 1/2 hours to make the fabric quilt block above. It was my second attempt at a log cabinish, wonky block. The first one I put together was too busy, so I plan to cut it up and reuse some of it in future blocks. I like this one much better. This time I had the right tools-- a large mat, rotary cutter (love it!), and an acrylic ruler. I wish I had a sewing room or studio! My dining room is a mess.

I learned that I need to clean-up and keep things tidy as a go (this is the way I like to cook, too). I started out with too much on the table, so I was constantly rearranging things or moving things.

The inspiration came from some knitted log cabinish squares that I have been making (still working on the second one). I chose the colors from looking up at evergreens against the sky while I walk.

Squares and circles

Today while helping my colleague Mrs. Misenar with her art class at St. Therese, I put finished, individual, pastel studies of Kandinsky on the carpet to create a collective, paper quilt. Then, I took photos of these arrangements and put them together in a collage to make a photo quilt. I love the colors and and wonky circles! The students did an amazing job, and Mrs. Misenar always brings such vibrant energy to her teaching that it is no wonder the students' works are so colorful.

The art of these children may be inspiration for what will be a creative project for me. The experience today has me thinking about the improvisational quilt piece I am planning in my mind. I bought some necessary supplies today-- a rotary cutter, a cutting mat, and some small, colorful, fabric pieces. Now, all I need is time and the willingness to make mistakes, learn, and persist to a finished product. And, I will most definitely need some help from quilting friends along the way.

I can't wait to get started.

Endings and Beginnings

One of the things we did really well this year was end our Christmas. In the photos above, we are practicing for the Feast of Lights gospel tableau, making crowns and stars in celebration of the three kings, and burning the greens outside of St. Andrew's Cathedral last night in downtown Jackson.

But, this blessing by Howard Thurman takes the ending of Christmas and charges us with a beginning:

When the song of the angels is stilled,
When the star in the sky is gone,
When the kings and princes are home,
When the shepherds are back with their flocks,
The work of Christmas begins:

To find the lost,
To heal the broken,
To feed the hungry,
To release the prisoner,
To rebuild the nations,
To bring peace among all,
To make music in the heart.

by Howard Thurman

It is always hard to give up Christmas. But, work has started. School has started. It's raining and raining today. Bombs and guns are exploding in other parts of the world. Children are hungry right here in Jackson.

I am thankful for the words of Howard Thurman reminding me about what is really important during this transition into the new year. It is a tall new year's resolution, but really, it is what each of us should resolve to do each and every day.