Living-Deliberately.com

My blog is actually getting old! I was looking through some of the archives the other day and thought a repost of a few of them would be fun.

Muse in the Sacred Wood, by Maurice Denis

Eisenhower Farm by Kay Ameche

Anker’s “Sleeping Children by a porcelain stove”

“Hope Cherishing Love” by Harry Mileham

All of the motherhood art in this one.

“Eternal Spring” by Rodin

Wind From the Sea, by Andrew Wyeth

and this one, from the times before I started listing artist and title.

We have built a table.

It is big.

We’ve joked many times that this will be a table to build a house around. A life around. It’s only a half joke.

We built it for $70 with framing lumber and a week’s time.

But this table is priceless.

10 2×8’s, yellow pine. We almost used Cypress, which had a nice Florida heritage idea to it, but I wanted imperfect, dentable, wood that would take on a nice patina in what will become a very normal life. So, plain, run-of-the-mill (so to speak) pine it was.

First, we ripped it into strips.

Then, two beads of glue on every side to be jointed. We gave close attention to how the grain was matching…or not. I wanted a sort of “butcher block” look.

Three boards, glued and clamped; the beginning of the top.

The legs were made of salvaged wood. Origonally they were the beams in some guy’s kitchen, remodled by my Dad. Then, they became legs for my mother’s work tables. Now, patina removed, they will be the legs that hold my table, pictured here with the frame.

Shortening them slightly. They had been “counter height”, 36 in, and we wanted the table to be a finished 32.

Learning to use the Router. It takes a little finesse to get it right! There are few dings and wavy lines here and there on my table…. patina!

Dad, bracing the legs. We used screws and carriage bolts. The table will need to be disassembled to be moved; it’s too big and heavy otherwise.

Lots and lots and lots of sanding.

Choosing a finish was hard! And I was considering distressing it with chains too. It became a debate between “honey” and “nutmeg”, though what I decided on hadn’t yet been presented.

The tops were ready for the planer. I LOVE the planer best of all the tools in the shop. Ugly, rough, imperfect things go in; smooth, refined, clean things come out the other side.

Clamping the top together. At this point, Dad started calling it my “aircraft carrier”.

Scraping the glue bumps; getting ready sand and grind the top.

Routing the edge. I went a groove that wouldn’t get dented too easily, nor be a food catcher.

Just taking a moment to appreciate that grain! I LOVE it. Each line represents a year of life. That always seems profound to me.

Break Time!

Sealing it to minimize warping, a real concern not using wood that wasn’t kiln dried and aged to the extent we would have liked.

I decided on a shade of stain between Nutmeg and Honey. It’s called…”Wheat”. I am using this photo to be true to the project’s process but I swear I look rather mannish in this one!

And here it is!!!! It needs to cure for a few days before we eat on it. I’m gathering chairs from various thrift stores and garage sales and painting them a royal, almost navy, blue.

It is The Table. I’m not sure how working with wood, smelling fresh sawdust, and Dad’s time heals exactly. Only that it does somehow.

Happy New Year!!! One of my very favorite days of the year…I like it better than christmas, better than my birthday. I like fresh starts, Anne-Shirley-ish reminders that, “tomorrow is a brand new day, with no mistakes”, chances to compare what has been with what is wanted and to make goals and adjustments and strategies for challenges. Today is a day for articulating deliberateness, full of gusto and intention. I love new calendars, new lists, hope and promise and anticipation.

At the end of 2007 I saw nearly everything in my life change. From weekend to weekend I don’t know where I’ll be…and yet we had a beautiful continuity with love, tradition, and memories. It has been a time for finding comfort in the intangible, for deep breaths knowing from experience that this grief will pass with time, for joy and discovery in the simple little things returning to me from long ago. I’ve conquered old fears (at least to some extent), adapted where I thought it was impossible, and opened doorways long in existance at the end of my mind’s hall but that seemed forever closed. With a year ending like that, it feels unlikely that the next will be mundane.

At the end of 2007:

What used to be: I loved music, movie soundtracks, new releases, multiple genres.

What has been: no fm radio, no mp3 technology, a quiet life with radio talk shows and occaissional music finds, usually via rhapsody.com or youtube.

What has become: burned CD’s from friends, a handed-down mp3 player loaded with music belieing a musical-kindred-spiritedness that was a beautiful surprise, and a car radio on the fm dial in multiple places, via a sort of hack involving an adapter and a CD player.

The result: MUSIC!!! New music, old music, lyrics for every emotion and thought, Orthodox worship when I can’t go to church, soundtracks that sweep. Music heals, helps one cope, express, and ventilate. It’s like soothing balm on cracked hands.

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What used to be: airplanes are large metal objects that have no business hurtling through the sky, and if they come down, we ought not be surprised.

What has been: major anxiety attacks when needing to fly…afraid of every bump and jostle, the fear palpable that I’d be in the next headline, having fallen and burned and crashed.

What has become: “it’s a like a bus”, so said a friend, and in so doing, gave me a great measure of freedom. Buses sway and move and make noises and really, an airplane isn’t so different. Sheer time saved makes flying worth the effort, even with crabby holiday travelers. Each flight gets a little easier and I no longer shake and tremble.

The result: I get “there” faster. I feel the world opening to me. I’ve let go of trying to control something that never was in my hands to control.

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Other changes were seeing my Total Money Makeover Beater turn over the 200k mileage mark, setting me on my way to reach my goal of taking the same Dodge Caravan engine and transmission over 269,000. The “Get Divorced Weight Loss Result”, that a friend described to me a year or so ago hasn’t failed…there’s no faster, nor more painful way to loose 15 lbs without even trying. But the flip side of the weight loss is that it’s better than sitting around getting fat and depressed and actually helps motivate me along on the Triathlon Goal.

It’s where I am: a divorcing, single mother of four children with a bad back and a slew of hopes and dreams, hanging onto the encouraging words of others who get me through every day. There’s adventure between every sunrise and set, there is the ordinary mixed with the incredible, there is the Thing To Deal With and the little moments of respite, be they a quick sketch with charcoal, a few chords on a friend’s guitar, or a new food I’ve waited years to try.

Goals for 2008:

(obviously not a complete list):

• continue to learn and train as necessary for my first sprint-level Triathlon; I want to do my first in the spring of ‘09 so the bulk of my learning and prep should be within this year.
• obtain and learn to play the guitar (leftover goal from last year, completely untouched).
• read fiction again this summer.
• paint again.
• hit my buisiness goal.
• transition my children healthfully, teaching them to live honestly, loving them patiently.
• continue, and to some extent return to, eating whole, traditonal foods prepared at home, wherever home comes to be.

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My calendar this year is a collection of Rodin’s sculptures. I love them because they hold in time moments that are usually fluid, that catch our breath in our throats, that translate much larger than they tangibly seem. Catching the emotion of life in solid form was Rodin’s brilliance, taking motion and holding it, turning it, even as we notice and move onward. That sort of expresses what I want this year to hold…moments kept for thier profundity, even as take each step beyond.

Living Deliberately Goal: Complete My First Triathlon

Broken down goal: learn and research the componenets, to decide what gear I need to get started.

Further broken down goal: start with bikes. It’s a big world!

I think the last time I rode a bike was a fat-seated beach cruiser when I was pregnant with my third baby. I was barely showing at the time but the fear of falling was too intense so I got off and left it. Wait no…that’s not right. It was earlier this year, at the beach, on a man’s mountain bike with a crotch-numbing seat. While soaring under a mossy canopy near ocean views, it was nothing like racing down a dirt road on my banana-seat Huffy as a kid, trying to make it home before a storm broke, wind through my hair and dust coating my bare feet!

The first time I had an interest in cycling was after watching the movie Singles; I’ve since seen that movie at least 500 times and I still get a giggle out of Debbie and her gear. Her peter-horton love interest in the movie was also a cyclist in Thirtysomething, his bachelor bike on a stand in his uber-cool apartment. Somehow, serious cycling has kind of interwoven itself into an impression of active-adulthood in my mind. Coupled with it is my interest in energy reduction and blogs like Simple Reduce that document regular people using bikes more often and their cars less. Cycling, in all its forms, feels like a responsible choice for a hobby, more productive than collecting things that gather dust or add to heedless materialism.

I’ve recently spent some time with a cyclist, getting just a snatch of exposure to safety concerns, stories of road accidents, and the wide expanse of choices there seem to be in very task-specific bikes. Silly me took a look at a bike on a stand and thought the same bike could go down both highway and off-road trail!! I couldn’t figure out why the spokes looked different or why the wheel routinely came off or why a wheel would go to the repair shop. I’ve since learned that wheels, like everything else associated with cycling, can be pricey and is designed to go many, many miles; bikes come odometers and regular maintenance is a must. Getting parts replaced is necessary, just like on a car.

Still feeling rather shy about asking questions, I’m going slowly and using websites where I can. I found a british site today that broke down the differences between the kinds of bikes out there and most importantly, had a separate article for the difference I need to look for in a woman’s vs. man’s bike. I found one site last week that was triathlon-centered and said repeatedly to just get the cheapest bike that would do the job but I’m thinking that there are certain elements that need to be paid attention to (like that, um, SEAT?!?)

In other Triathlon news, I have found a race or two I’d like to pencil in but the ‘08 dates feel way too soon. I’m setting my sites on being ready for ‘09. This year will include trail running, learning to swim, getting a bike and learning to ride it, and practice runs.

or rather, few completed thoughts. There was the hurting, the presumption, the assumptions. There were children playing, laughing, screaming. Where there once sat bags of round fruit, now instead sit jars of warm sauce. The moon has risen and the baby’s asleep. Instead of words, I chose art on a theme. Enjoy.

This you-tube is absolutely mesmerizing. The animation of these paintings, the eyes and the expressions and the way they come alive is simply stunning. I felt it grow a little sad as we moved into late 20th century…..there was certainly something missing in the abstract styles, the emotive power of eyes and expression, combined with the string music in the background, that felt tragic. But it ends on a brighter note, with a return of a gaze.

It’s called Hope Cherishing Love by Harry Mileham, painted in 1904. The image is from the Bridgeman Art Library and I think that funky bumblebee is a protector thingie. I saw this yesterday on the wall of my friend who had her house blessed yesterday, in memoriam of their little baby boy who died in infancy. I saw it and thought of Clara. I thought of all those dark moments at night mothers have anytime they are worried about their children.  My friend graciously surprised me with a link in my inbox when I got home last night. Thanks Kyra!

It’s from an art fair website. I like the winter sky, the three-some companionship of the chickens and the dog, and I wonder what is on the person’s back. I’d love to see this one up close, really big.

I think the artist may be Hong Mao, and the painting part of an art show in Ann Arbor, MI.

Lay aside for a few moments what you think about iconography. This was a really neat explanation of perspective I read this weekend.

This is called Christ Pantocrator of Sinai (think I got that right). It is known to be a particulary powerful image, one that seems to see through you and penetrate one’s thoughts as they gaze upon it.

The following quote is from another Frederica Matthewes-Green book called “The Open Door” and it offers a breakdown of a sort as to why this image draws the viewer in so well.
“One way the iconographer has achieved this intense effect is that the perspective is intentionally distorted. Look at the Gospel book; it towers upward, as if we’re standing on the street looking up at the corner of a sky scraper. But if you look at the figure of Christ, it’s as if we’re facing him squarely, with our head coming up to His chest. What’s more, the whole image of Christ gets subtly wider as it goes back into the picture. Why is that?

You’ll remember from elemenatry school art lessons that ‘perspective’ means that when you look at a picture of railroad tracks, far in the distance the tracks converge. The place where everything collapses into a tiny spot is called the ‘vanishing point’. That’s the rule in most western painting. A canvas shows a scene as if you’re looking into the box of a theater stage, with everything smaller as it goes back. That kind of perspective invites you into the frame of the picture, as if you’re entering a room and joining the characters there.

With many icons, however, perspective is reversed. Christ’s ears and hair are wider than his face. His shoulders seem to go on forever. Things are getting larger as they go back, and smaller as they come toward you. This means that the convergence point is in front of the picture, right about where your’e standing. You’re the ‘vanishing point’. ”

From “The Open Door”, pages 16 and 17, by Frederica Matthewes-Green.

This weekend we watched part of Sister Wendy’s The Story of Painting. She has an equally wonderful way of breaking down the elements of a painting so that it not only leaps to life in your mind, but causes you to feel the humanity and desire for beauty the artist had and was trying to communicate. Inspiring stuff.

Learned something new:

Awhile back I posted a picture of The Maternal Kiss by Mary Cassatt.

This display of affection is something I have a “soft spot” for, both with my own children and when I see it done by others. There is a tenderness it communicates that is profound.

David and I are reading “At the Corner of East and Now” by Frederica Matthewes-Green, which is like a little picture-peek into the world of the Orthodox church, something that is completely foreign to us. Last night’s chapter was on the saints and the extensive use of icons in their worship. They have different terms for the images of Mary and Jesus:

“When she holds him upright and gestures towards him with her hand, the image is called the Virgin Hodgegetria.”

“When she cuddles him near, pressing cheek to cheek, it is the Virgin Glykophilousa–’sweet kissing’ or ‘of tenderness’.”

I had to say that slowly a few times before I could pronounce it: Gly-ko-phil-ousa.

Today I found this image that displayed it:

Very tender indeed, despite the iconographer’s (and historical artists by and large) tendancy to make the christ-child look like a skinny little man.

Image from The Art of Parenting Children Through Art.

“And they brought young children to Him, that He should touch them: and His disciples rebuked those that brought them. But when Jesus saw it, He was much displeased, and said unto them, Suffer the little children to come unto Me, and forbid them not: for of such is the kingdom of God”
(Mark 10:13-14).

I”m late posting today because the few internet moments I’ve had today were spent over on YouCanKnowGod. If I had time today, I’d do a word study on the word “suffer” to see exactly how it’s used in this text. This conversation has made me very sad today.

When I haven’t been online today, I’ve been busy with clothing inventory. It’s time to change the kids clothing out, sort out what is too stained to keep, what doesn’t fit, and to get a few long sleeved things out for our upcoming fall days. We’ll still be in short sleeves and shorts (with a light jacket for nights and mornings) for a bit yet but it seems we’re having very defined seasons this year. I’ve got every shred of clothing stacked on the table and I’m making a list of what they need before I shop. Celia, as the only daughter, needs the most, but I’m happy to see that it’s primarily incidentals and few fill-in pieces that I need to search for.

I’m pretty basic with clothes and this is good given the size of our living accomodations the past few years! They have two church outfits a season to alternate. Mom commented once that it was funny how my laundry piles were full of the same colors: bright green, navy blue, and red. But with 3 boys, those colors make a lot of sense! Stuff has to coordinate with other stuff or there’s just no point in keeping it. Socks and undies are bought new every season. And everyone needs shoes this fall.

I tried something new in the kitchen today: Baked chicken with peaches. It’s the day before grocery shopping so it always calls for a little creativity! I made it up so don’t ask for specific measurements LOL. Basically it was chicken layered with fresh, sliced peaches, and sprinkled with: rapadura, cinnamon, garlic, onion powder, sage, salt and pepper. We had it with sugar snap peas and slices of montery jack cheese. We ate outside at the picnic table on this most beautiful and balmy of days…..high blue sky, puffy clouds, soft breeze, temps in the mid-70’s.

Thinking today about how nursing a baby over a year, after the time they can safely take cow’s milk, can’t be pinned down to a “right” age. Nursing relationships are so unique and each mother/child combination is different. Breastfeeding isn’t just about a method for nutrition and it’s benefits can’t be canned and sold in the store. So, in honor of those sentiments, here is another painting by Mary Cassatt, of a mother obviously nursing a big, sweet baby.

It’s called “Louise Feeding Her Child”, painted in 1899. Cheers.

I keep scrolling down to look at the second painting I posted earlier today. I’m spellbound by it. It positively draws me in. When I first found it I couldn’t find the title of the painting; only the artist’s name. I”m sitting here listening to crickets outside my open window and slumbering dear hubby near me and it occurred to me that I might love to have this painting as a print on my wall. So off I went to “google” that artist. And….lo and behold…my little lead is more than an artist name!

Zona pellucida: The strong membrane that forms around an ovum as it develops in the ovary. The membrane remains in place during the egg’s travels through the fallopian tube. To fertilize the egg, a sperm must penetrate the thinning zona pellucida. If fertilization takes place, the membrane disappears to permit implantation in the uterus.

um….yeah. Okay.

Well, I’m learning something. This painting is a bit hard to track down. Zona Pellicuda is also an art website.A very cool site called The Art of Parenting Through Art. But ZP is  NOT the artist who did this painting. From the url I figured out that ” serebryakova tata with vegetables ” must be the title. The artist also painted this girl brushing her hair:

But that first painting of her with the fish and radishes still grips me.  And so I kept looking…

Success! Here’s an artist bio of Zinaida Serebryakova (from Wikipedia):

Zinaida Serebryakova was born on the estate of Neskuchnoye near Kharkiv (now Ukraine) into one of the most refined and artistic families of Russia.

Ever since her youth Zinaida Serebryakova strove to express her love of the world and to show its beauty. Her earliest works—Country Girl (1906, Russian Museum) and Orchard in Bloom (1908, private collection)—speak eloquently of this search, and of her acute awareness of the beauty of the Russian land and its people. These works are etudes done from nature, and though she was young at the time, her extraordinary talent, confidence and boldness were apparent.

The painting’s name is Tata With Vegetables and Tata was Zinaida’s daughter.