December 1st 2013

Today was a big day: Cedar's first birthday and my baptism.  (Also my friend Brandt and Aunt Julie's birthdays!)

The plan was to have a party for Cedar at the dog park.  The poor bo got sick on Thursday and had to go to the vet yesterday morning.  He's got kennel cough (the dog version of bronchitis) and has been pretty sluggish.  He's contagious so he has to stay home for the next week and finish his antibiotics.  The party will be postponed.

 I've been wrestling with baptism for about a year.  I think I talked about it in a post earlier this year.  I was sprinkled as a baby but changed churches and knew that immersion was the next step for me.  If we are called to be Christ-like then it's the way to go.  I'm glad I waited as long as I did because I don't think I truly understand what that meant until recently.  The profession of faith and the purifying of sins is huge but publicly announcing your decision to follow and strive to be like Jesus is the part that I like the best about baptism.  I know that I'm at a good church and have good relationships that will keep me accountable in doing that.  

Side note, there's just no way to keep your composure and look cool when you're wet.  Especially when you're a short haired girl with a flat, pea head.

I have been looking forward to seeing these people for days.  It is a privilege and a blessing to love them.

Today was one of the best days.

The end of October and the month of November

Fall is the best part of the year.  The colors, the mountain views, the weather, no shave November, pumpkin flavored everything, plaid; there isn't one bad thing about it.  (Except maybe football, but that's over now...no more 17 hour home game shifts for me.)  It's also a great distraction.  

On Fridays, the fella' and I have been venturing out in search of wonderful places.

An apple orchard in Sky Top, NC.

Brasstown Falls in Westminster, SC.  If you look to the left of this picture you can see little tiny Cedar under that hanging log.

Current happenings in MFA life include...

 Lindsay napping in my studio on my couch.  The ceramic students have a big bowl sale every year and end up turning out around 50-100 or more bowls.  This takes up a lot of their time throughout the whole fall semester.  The sale was last week and not only do they sale their bowls, they provide free soup with the purchase of a bowl.  They also make the soup.  Her nap was well earned.

I've been working on this blanket piece all semester.  Not consistently.  They encourage our first year to be about experimenting with new mediums and even new media.  This can be freeing and exciting at times because you don't necessarily have to "finish" something before you start on something new.  However, because I am orderly and need to have final outcomes to learn from, it has been frustrating for me.

 This is my baby blanket that has been cut in to two parts and used so much it's worn out.  I've been weaving pine needles through the gaps as a way to mend and repair it.  Pine needles are, as you probably know, not a very strong or durable material.  They are locational for me and represent family.  (Side note, I tried a performance art piece based on this that I will not be sharing...no, there was no interpretive dancing.)   Pine needles break and do not support the blanket.  Because of this, I'm trying to understand the goals of this piece.  It's okay that it doesn't sustain or preserve the blanket.  I think what I need to understand is the personal need to mend and the obsession with "fixing" it.  This could lead to some work that does, well, work.

 A funny picture of one of the students in the class I teacher assist with walking a previous  3D foundation student's sculpture to the recycling dump.

I've never made work about the relationship with my father before.  It's not something that I've talked about that much because there wasn't a relationship.  I feel like that's something I might not should say on a blog because it feels private, but I think it will be helpful for me to see where I am with this a year or so from this post.  And who knows, it could be helpful to others as well.

  

Since my grandma died a few weeks ago, I've had a couple interactions with my father.  We hadn't talked in a few years.  Light was shed on some things that I didn't (and still might not) exactly know the truth about.  Being in a strong place spiritually helped me forgive and move forward years ago.  But that's not something you just decide on one day.  It's a lifetime commitment, I think.  The choice to accept and forgive and to choose love is big.  A friend recently said to me that the most important days are not the first days, they're the last.  I haven't necessarily asked for a new, mended relationship with my father.  However, it seems like God, in his time, is moving and I feel good about it.  

The teddy bear pictured above is Harvey Bear.  Dad gave him to me a long time ago and said it was his when he was a kid.  He's the newest sculpture inspiration.  Annette Messager is a current artist I'm really digging.  She uses stuffed and real, taxidermy animals in her sculptures.  They're loaded yet at the same time, so simple.

More pictures to come after the final (December 10th).

Thanksgiving was this week.  It's weird to go "home" because my home isn't really there for me anymore.  By that I mean my mom's house, the place I grew up in.  Mama moved to Georgia and a cousin rents our old house.  I usually end up staying with Meme' but she had a full house since a cousin from Colorado and an uncle were down.  I ended up staying with a cousin.  Thanksgiving felt a little off because of this and because some people were missing.  We've been having it at the church social hall because there are too many of us to fit in Meme's house (at least that's what she says).  This makes it feel so impersonal.

Tiffany hosted a gathering at her place on Friday night in Greenville.  It was nice, we grilled burgers and drank two buck Chuck.  Got to see Aunt Lisa, who I haven't seen in a while, and the babies, Avey and May.  We laughed, we told stories, we genuinely enjoyed each other.  This felt like Thanksgiving.

Dalai Lama

I thought I posted this already. Guess not.

About a month ago I went to see the Dalai Lama in Atlanta.  Honestly, I didn't know too much about him (him? his highness? I think they call him his holiness) but the word "enlightening" kept coming up so I was interested in feeling that.  

I feel I should preface this by realizing that as I write, I will probably sound pretty ignorant about the whole thing.  Keep that in mind as these are just my inconsequential and often irreverent thoughts.

Something like 8,000 people showed up.  Again, I had no idea what to expect.  We walked in late and didn't get to see him come out (the friend I was with said this was the best part because of the "energy" that he brought in to the room).  There he was dressed in red with this Styrofoam visor (kind of like one you might decorate with foam stickers at church camp).  At first he gave a speech and then a guy on stage asked him a few questions.  He was very hard to understand so his response was being typed on a screen (although I think the person writing had a hard time comprehending as well because the sentences were incoherent and he backspaced a lot).

Essentially, his message is love and compassion.  That is the gist of what he talked about.  He never fully answered the questions and more of less just said to be a good person.  Maybe I'm being cynical, but I kept thinking, "Duh.  Thousands of people paid $50 a ticket to hear that?"  

It kind of makes me question what humanity is hungry for.  Obviously seeing the Dalai Lama is a trendy thing to do.  I get that now.  But what is at the root of seeing someone deemed "holy"? We all are looking for something to fill whatever hole or gap we see missing in ourselves or maybe in the world.  I do not know whether or not people worship the Dalai Lama but it seems odd to me that all this hype for someone who is just a man.  A good man, yes, but an earthly man nonetheless.  On the peak side, I did appreciate his observation of this century's need for responsibility in bringing about change and peace.  He also mentioned the role of women as maternal figures.  Not to say that we should all have babies, but more so that the caring female role is so important and needs to be restored.  The feminist part of me started to tick a little when he got on this subject but he said it from such a kind place that I knew he wasn't meaning to step on toes.

I can say that I've seen the Dalai Lama.  I am sad to say that I did not feel enlightened after I left.  It was 11:30 and I felt hungry.   

Meanwhile, back at the ranch

A shot taken at the homestead

Cedar and a friend playing at the dog park. 

We have another baby girl in the family.  Baby Avery and big sister May.

 
Baby Mama.  Avery is who I would have been sharing a room with had I not found a place in Clemson.  Can you imagine?

Midterms already?

Midterms crept upon us art kids this past week.  The second year MFAs always talk about these things as if we should bring a paper bag with us when it's our turn.  They all get very stressed and panic striken.  Thankfully, the four of us in the incoming cohort are all laidback, probably to a fault, and don't get too worried about anything. 

 

The setup for midterm reviews goes:  Set up work in the small gallery by our studios, nothing has to be finished since it's work in progress.  Each person gets 30 minutes to present and get feedback from the graduate faculty.  Other grads can sit in and it's nice that they do because we take notes for each other.  The faculty says a lot so it's easy to forget it all.  I recorded mine.  It's weird to hear your own voice though so I haven't really listened to it.

 

I haven't been too nervous about these things because I'm new and if I don't do well, well, I'm new.  However, my review went very well.  Whew!  I got a lot of good feedback including statements that what I was doing was rich in content, continue to do what I'm doing and going with my gut, being open is working for me, and that recording what I'm doing and using it as performance is gold.

 

Here's a sneak peek at what I'm working on:

This is my old baby blanket.  What you see are pine needles woven in the worn out holes.  In my artist statement I talk about how my concept is revealing what's broken and seeking to mend it.  I'll reveal more later, once it's finished.

This is a clay mold of a future project in which I hope to use raw meat.  Apparently Clemson has a place where they do butchering, I assume for an undergrad program.  I'm going to make a time to go by and see what goes on there.  I've been researching slaughterhouses and meat production for this.  Needless to say, I'm off the beef right now.

 

Here are a few pictures of some of the other grad's midterm work.

Ayako's (my studiomate).

 

Laken's.

 

Alex's.

Mumford Music

Here are some clips I took on my phone at the Mumford and Sons concert a couple weeks ago.  I never know what to do with these little videos but putting them on the blog seemed appropriate. Enjoy :)

Something Positive

Crunch Time

This picture of Linds sums up our current mind frame: stressing, trying not to get sick, and making the most out of studio time.

And there's this other thing we've got called art history, seminar, and the classes we teacher assist.  I've been here a month and I still have to remind myself what time those classes meet.

The cardboard installation piece turned out to be a bust.  We had our first open studio and I presented that work.  I didn't get negative responses, I didn't get many responses at all which I took as negative, but from hearing myself talk about it, I knew I was done with it.  Done as in, I put that out there, I'm not in to it, moving on.  The painter Dana Saulnier was a guest speaker at the gallery here a couple weeks ago.  One thing he said that struck a chord was, "You know when something is working or not.  It's if shit, you know it and you say, 'I did it, it's out of me now and I can move forward and work on something different.'"

I knew coming here and having absolute freedom to create whatever I wanted would be a challenge.  You'd probably think differently but sculpture is so open that it's overwhelming.  We aren't painters, already supplied with paint, brushes, and canvas.  Anything can be our canvas.  Where do you even begin?  

I was encouraged to step outside of my comfort zone with metal and go in new directions.  This has scared me to death, so much so that I'm not producing nearly as much work as I should.  And not only that, I'm surrounded by other artists.  I see what they're doing and feel intimidated by the amount of creativity pumping through this place.  My destructive fear has become my closest friend.  Even though there's really no room for that in creativity.

Midterms are about two weeks away.  My plans are to make two to three pieces.  One being a hanging quilt made out of pine needles that connects to a baby blanket at the bottom, which would fall to the floor.  The other piece may be made out of clay, wax, or fabric.  Or maybe all three.  Variations and trials are good.  The good thing is that nothing has to be completely finished by then.  That should be comforting but it's not!

We are strongly encouraged to keep up with other artists, especially contemporary work.  This is a good thing to do as it probably helps when you discuss your own work.  However, it ends up being on the bottom of my to do list.  And maybe that's why I'm still struggling with how I talk about my work.  I definitely feel like I'm the weakest in the bunch as far as that goes, and as far as theoretical knowledge.  I don't bring a lot to the table.  But I do listen.  That's my strong suite I think.  And I have a couch in my studio that people sit on.  I provide that as well.

Out and about

Rock climbing with Hil

Cake eating and Cedar swimming in GA for mamas 50th birthday

The grad class. Slowly taking over Clemson.

Cursing cardboard.

Jay Z Picasso Baby

 

Joyful Solitude

-There's a paper due tomorrow, thus, the blog-a-thon.-

 

 

Tif reads the book above to May. It's cute, you should check it out.

 

In art seminar class last week we had to have five photos that represent who we are.  Naturally one of mine was of my boots.  They sort of became a thing while at Lander.  I'm pretty sure everyone there thought I may have been a little butchy but so be it.  They are great boots and I got them on sale.  And they've saved my toes from small welding flames on numerous occasions.

They got extra use on Saturday when I took Cedar to Table Rock.  I figured we better go now before the semester hits full force.  It was his first time hiking and he did a great job.  He previously got neutered on Tuesday and he was supposed to lie low for a week. But they obviously don't know Cedar.  He is energetic and resilient. So off we went.

 

The weather was nice and it wasn't overly crowded.  We did pinnacle trail and didn't see a soul for a good hour (we did however see a bear off in the distance, that cut our hike real quick).  The fog was heavy that morning so we didn't get to clearly see the beautiful view of the skyline.  But there wasn't a lacking of all the other wonder.

Humans.  We have the best of intentions but we just don't get it do we?

Dumpster Diving

The thing about the MFA program at Clemson- from what I can tell so far- is trial and error.  They are very interested in grads trying new things, especially materials.  Since I've done a fair amount of metal work, I feel pretty comfortable in that.  But as a second year mfa student told me last week, the motto for the program is "embrace the uncomfortable".

 And since sometimes the pictures go in the order that I want and sometimes they don't, I'll just have to make do with what they're doing right now:

Cardboard is the material of choice right now. Roger Wohlford would be so proud.  I'm a teacher assistant for a 3D foundations class that uses a lot of cardboard.  Last week the students and I (mostly I because that's what t.a's do...whatever the professor doesn't want to do), broke the previous class's big cardboard sculptures down and walked them to the dump.  At this point I didn't realize cardboard and I would soon be forming a unique relationship.  So a few days later, when I reach that understanding, I go dumpster diving for leftovers.  Cardboard leftovers, not food. Although there were some spaghetti noodles in there. 

The picture above is what's happening in my studio. Oh I need to post a picture of the studio! These cardboard boxes have sort of become symbolic over the last couple of years.  Now they're dancing all over the studio, interrupting mine and my studio roommate's space.  I'm not sure where this is headed but since the theory around here is to "just get started, you'll figure it out that way," we will see where it goes.

 

 

This is where I was surviving while staying with Tif in Gville. That's a crib.  She's having another little girl in about two months.  But I guess you figured that out by all the pink stuff.  Getting to her house every night and seeing that bed before going to sleep really put some thoughts in to my head.

 

This "crib" by a sculptor named Robert Gober is just fantastic.  It's been another source of inspiration.  So simple yet there's so much going on there.  Sometimes I think the overthinking kills it.  Simplicity in life is a great thing, simplicity in sculpture is a much harder thing.

Step Up Weeks 2 and 3

Welcome to grad school: there are not enough hours in the day.

The last couple weeks of small group were a little disappointing.  And by that I do not mean because of the people-the people are great (we had Cook Out and pancakes- woot woot!).  I wasn't very inspired by the clips we watch because it seemed like they didn't directly relate to the handbook we follow.  The handbook is more about ourselves-which I understood Next Step to be about- while the clips seem to be more about the church.  Not to knock it, but I find myself zoning out when listening to it. 

In a way, sadly, it's creating an opposite affect for me.  I find myself having a harder time listening and engaging because the sermon from the recent clips sound more like a "Welcome to our church, here are some stats" kind of thing.  I know the stats, I know the church.  But I'm still wondering what God wants my next step to be.  That's the whole point really.  Maybe I'm not seeing it yet.  Maybe all those numbers will involve me in some way and maybe that's through service. 

I hate to say this, but I'm struggling that the church I love is a megachurch.  Because lately, it feels like a megachurch. And maybe it's not them, maybe it's a weird thing with me right now.  I often hear that the devil loves to get us distracted.  Maybe I'm distracted.

Hm.

Step Up week one. Also, conceptual seeds

This past Thursday night was the first meeting for my church group called Next Step.  Every week small groups meet to watch a mini sermon and then go over some questions and discuss what God's next step is for our lives.  

I was a little intimidated at first because I thought it was going to be stuffy people that might break out a guitar and sing kumbaya (that really did happen to my friend Cam) or break out in hives if I accidentally slipped a cuss word.  Everyone turned out to be cool and very real.  Which was refreshing.  It seemed like we all clicked pretty well and I can't wait to see what the next few weeks will bring for all of us.  It will be good to learn from each other.

Yesterday I went out with a new friend.  I guess he got the word that I'm pretty in to Jesus because that seemed to be a lot of what getting to know each other consisted of talking about.  It was great to try to fix a few misconceptions he had about us, and to apologize for the idiot Christians he'd had some not so great run ins with in the past. I kept hearing the word "judgment" being thrown around and I couldn't agree more.  I told him I also did not like those kind of people and was sorry that those were the people he identified Christ with.  And that they got it all wrong, even though they might have meant well doing it.  

Talking about faith is a lot like talking about my artwork.  I'm not really sure what to say and it's usually vague responses.  But yesterday I felt so confident and guided because the more and more I study who Jesus is and the more and more I fall for him, the more I want others to get it.  The real it.  Because the description is so different than the one most of the world has believed for the past hundred years and so different from what I thought just a couple years ago.  I'm not sure where we got it wrong.  Maybe when people starting molding him to fit their agenda. 

Describing a spirit or a presence or a movement makes you sound as if you take LSD regularly.  And have posters of Jerry Garcia or Phish on your walls.  Or read energies and see colors (shout out to my hippie friends....jokes!).  Like with art, it's not quite something that can be put in to exact words.  There's a limitation.  So when we are called to spread the gospel, how do we do that?

I think that's where spiritual gifts and passion kicks in.  For me, it's not professing something or coming up to someone I don't know and being the weirdo that confronts them about knowing Jesus.  No no no.  It might have worked in Jesus's day, but our world is so different and broken now. Some would argue this and that's fine but I personally think there are more effective ways of communicating and that particular strategy has been done unsuccessfully for far too long.  (Words have done more harm than help for us lately.)  My work is my outlet.  I'm sure reading, discussing, experiencing, and learning from others about and through faith will weigh heavy in to my concepts during the next couple years.  I anticipate this.  It will be a challenge in every form.  In the book I'm reading (The Irresistible Revolution, Shane Claiborne) the author talks about how living for Jesus is uncomfortable, uncool, and will wreck your life.  But in the best possible way.  I anticipate that the consumption of that in graduate school will be straining and stressful.  But also rewarding and liberating.

The sketchbook is fresh. Classes start on Wednesday; we will see how it all progresses.  

Stay tuned. 

Wiser than I

Update: Still bumming at my cousin's.

We'll come back to that.

My church, Newspring, has several campuses across South Carolina. The Sunday before last they reached an all time high with a record attendance of 35,000. Yes, they are a mega church.  I've been on both sides of the fence, criticizing and now justifying.  I've noticed that the people that criticize the church the most, as I did too, are the ones that have never actually been to it.  And even just going once can still cause hesitation.  But now that I'm an owner (the equivalent of being a member) there, I cannot imagine staying away.  It really is contagious and it's not about our awesome preacher or the music (both of which bring tons of people in the door).  For me, I've never felt God's spirit in any church like I do in that one.  It's emotional, it puts you in your place, it gets you involved when you don't even like people, and it keeps you on track as far as balancing your life, listening to what God's saying and just doing it.  I crave all those things every Sunday.  And this week I'll be starting a Next Step group that meets in Anderson which I'm so excited about.  I don't know anyone there but I'm excited just the same.  See what I mean about meeting people when you never thought you'd do something like that?  

On Sunday, Pastor P talked about how sharing your faith and living according to how Jesus really wants you to live, which does not mean picketing at gay parades and telling people they're going to hell or condemning people who don't have a relationship with Jesus, is hard and it's uncomfortable.  God knows I have no idea how to talk to anyone about it that doesn't believe the same thing I do.  But I like to think that I'm open minded enough to listen and not to brow beat them for disagreeing with me.  I'm always curious what leads people to believe the things they do.

Another thing Perry said that really struck a cord was, "Thank you Jesus for loving me enough to not give me what I want."  (To the tune of Garth's "Unanswered Prayers"...kidding) I've been thinking about this since I left service Sunday morning. I took it really personally.  I wanted to be in Clemson weeks ago.  Working and settling in and getting comfortable.  But comfort is not really what God specializes in.  In fact, comfort is a worldly problem.  And we all know the world makes us hard.   I admit that I often think there's a reason for everything and could probably analyze it until veins are popping out of my forehead.  In this situation, what I wanted and what God wanted did not match up.  Hearing that comment made me start thinking about why I was sent here instead.  I'm not going to go in to the reasons, but I do believe there is a pretty good one that involves letting go of something and a quiet isolation that allows me to work on doing that.

Im going to try to make it a point to post every week about the small group and what's going on with that.  Can't wait to see what it brings.


After disaster week, I've really just been enjoying my time with my cousins and her kid.  While their every day life is just the norm routine for them, I find it fun.  May is a quirky little girl so she's pretty entertaining.

This is new

Done by Andrew Catterton at 7 Sins in Greenwood. 

First and last. Ouch.

But I do love it

Inconceivable!

WOW is the only way I know to describe last week, followed by a heavy sigh.  You know those days or weeks where everything that could fall apart kind of does?  That was my week.  But, thankfully, it almost all fell back together in it's place.

I got everything moved in to the house in Clemson and left to officially live there on Sunday.  I'd previously been there painting, thinking that would make a huge difference in the dump.  Once I got that Sunday I was so overwhelmed by all of my stuff as well as the stuff that my landlord had had 2 months to fix but had not done so.  So of course, like a girl, I had a meltdown and ended up packing my bags and Cedar and I stayed at a hotel for the night.  On a side note, staying in a hotel is one of my favorite things to do.  It's a vacation without really going anywhere.  There's also free cable and breakfast.  And bathtubs.

The next day I decided I could not stay at that house.  The landlord was etch-a-sketch and it was just a hot mess.  Yes, I knew this from the start and it was definitely my mistake by renting the place to begin with.  So I told him I couldn't stay and I wanted out of my lease.  We hee hawed a bit but agreed if I could find someone else to live there then I could get out of my lease and get my deposit back.  Within a couple days a guy (a carpenter) responded to the rent sign and signed the lease.  That meant I had to get all of my stuff out by that day in order to get my full deposit.  This was a Thursday.  People work on Thursdays and I don't know anyone well enough here to ask for help moving.

Thank God for my good friend Doug McAbee.  He's an amazing professor, a great artist, and an overall awesome human being.  You should check him out: www.dougmcabee.com He came and we got everything in a Uhaul (my second Uhaul of the week).  And I have a lot of junk so it was a major feat.

From there I drove the 27 foot Uhaul back to my cousin's house where I've been staying in Simpsonville and had to unload everything in her garage because someone needed the Uhaul in Easley the next day. 

In the mix I also started my new job the next day.  It was good but I hardly had time to think about it what with everything else going on.  My first day there I went to the bank after I got off and guess what?  The belt came off of my engine (or whatever it is that belts go on under the hood).  Thank God for these two guys (who were also carpenters, not the theme here?) that happened to be there and helped me.  One even drove to advance auto for me to see if they had what I needed.  I called my mom after and was crying (of course) but this time it was because I was so happy and thankful that not only did they helped me, they didn't take the money I offered them because, as one said, "We need more people in the world that just help each other."  They got the belt on and then I ended up having to take it to a dealership the next day to get a new compressor.  Which I don't even want to say how much that cost.

So here we are.  I'm staying with my pregnant cousin, her husband, their 2.5 year old, and five dogs (along with Cedar).  But you know what, it's exactly where I need to be right now and I'm just so thankful that she's gracious enough to let me crash here until I find a place.

I don't know why these kind of things happen the way they do but I've taken it as a test of faith and a compliment that the Lord knows I could handle it because I rely on him so heavily.  He's also pretty witty, sending me the three carpenters to save me.  He's sent me the right people and I know he will send me to the right place in his timing.  So I'll trust that and try to enjoy sleeping on the cot in the nursery at Tiff's house.



Enough with the pictures already

I don't have a facebook but I do have an instagram.  And I've been trying to understand the fascination with "selfies". Isn't it awkward to take pictures of yourself?  It's weird to me. I thought there was a fear of looking conceited by taking a selfie.  By doing that aren't you kind of saying there's a need for approval by getting "likes" to feel validated? And what about the ones whose every little square is a picture of them self but it's not one they could have taken, like a full body shot.  Are they asking someone to take their picture? Do they send it to them self from someone else's phone? What goes on?

I've wondered what will happen to this generation of little kids who, since birth, have had phones in front of them instead of faces?  I'm not meaning to knock parents and people who do that and I'm not saying it makes you an uninvolved parent because you do this. I certainly take pictures of the beautiful babies in my family.  Because, yes, I want to show the world how cute they are and how happy they make me.  That's what we do right? Take pictures of things to show people what makes us happy.  I just hope the overwhelming cell phones in the face won't cause a disconnect for these kids.  A lot of teenagers today seem to have a celebrity complex and I hope they don't see it as how many likes you get defines your self esteem.

I dunno. Just a thought. What do I know.

Peace Especially

Since I've stopped running and love to eat, I needed to start doing something good for my body.  I've recently started going to The Yogatorium.  (If I knew how to hyperlink the website I would do that but I don't.)  The owner of this yoga studio out in the middle of nowhere is Ms. Jackie.  She is 80 years old and amazing.  Not only can she stretch better than my 25 year old self (she's been doing yoga for 40 years), she is a retired professor from Clemson.  She's someone that you just want to be around so you can soak up her wisdom and peacefulness.

Unfortunately she's out of town for the next two weeks so I'm left to yoga for myself.  That sounds weirder than I meant for it to.  I don't have the peace and patience to really concentrate on poses and breathing so I try to set up a calm environment thinking that might help.  I'm getting in to the routine of reading some scripture in the morning and then setting my mat out in front of the window and having "quiet time" to stretch my body and clear my head.  I really need the head clearing part because the tension in my neck won't let me look all the way to the right. 

 

The morning wetness and abundant green hue outside made for a peaceful setting.  However, I have a not so peaceful dog that wanted to do some yoga too.

Looks like his stuffed monkey is trying some sort of pose in the background.

Paper Trails and Checklists

I've got a month left before I make the big move to Clemson.  I've decided that, no matter the cost, I'm paying for a Uhaul and movers.  I've moved way too much in the last few years and I think my family is starting to shy away from me because they know I'm about to beg for help.  So to save myself a headache, and to save my relationship with my family, movers it is.

Before I go, I've got a list a mile long of things that need to get done not only at my home here, but also with my grandparents who I'm sort of "in charge" of.  They're in the assisted living home right now and trust me, you don't know nothin' about paperwork until you have to deal with the care of parents or grandparents.  It truly is a paper trail two miles long. 

I try to see them at least once a week and I'm always making phone calls for them or checking on their house or something.  On Sunday, the preacher talked about how sometimes the most important things we do or conversations we have can be the most awkward.  That's absolutely true.  I think he was mostly referring to "the talk" but it got me thinking about my grandparents.  I have to prepare myself mentally before I go see them.  Grandma has Alzheimer's and Papa has a hard time talking due to a stroke he had a couple years ago.  He's also a worry wort so I try to keep it light and friendly until it happens.  Every time.  We'll be sitting there talking about the same ol' same ol' (the weather, the food at the home, the fact that no, I'm still not married or anywhere close to being married) and my grandmother will say she needs to use the bathroom.  I take her not thinking anything of it and it always results in loud noises and me having to Lysol the air in the room.  And apparently it's contagious because then my papa has to go too.  I know, it's gross.  But not only is it gross, imagine how awkward it is when they continue to talk during the, uh, process.  And then I have to help them get up. 

Yeah.

Today I had a ton of running around to do for them.  I truly don't mind doing it because I'm so anal about organization and checking things off of a to-do list that it's almost rewarding and a guaranteed sense of accomplishment once it's done.  I visited, I distributed papers where they needed to go, and cut their grass.  It's not a great grass cut but hey, it's done.  And at four thirty I lunched on a well-deserved angus burger from Hardee's and a sweet tea.  Caffeine after three, what a rebel.

I finally made it back home and prepared my checklist for tomorrow and the next day and the next day.  I guess realizing I have such little time left has lit a fire under my butt to get something done everyday.  I now empathize with housewives; there is always something to do.  Whether it's getting the pool from a mossy green color to clear water or taking the cat to get fixed, it's an endless list. 

Who knows if any of it really matters in the long run.  But the moments before the day gets going, when I'm on the back porch in the morning drinking coffee and watching Cedar run after the kittens in the yard, and the moments when the sun is setting and I'm in the hammock or watering the plants, I feel most at peace.  I'm rested and I'm at my happiest when I'm sweaty or dirty from a good day of being fully present in the big things and the small things.

Imagery

Remember that teabag with Ben's face on it that I made?  Teabag Ben is currently lost in the Columbia Museum of Art.  Either he'll find a new home, meaning that someone bought him at the Contemporary Artists show, or he'll be coaxed back in to an envelope and mailed back to me.  I haven't told the real Ben yet.  I just don't know how to break the news to him.  Maybe over a gallon of tea?

Teabag Ben was a sculpture that was inspired by the association of people with particular things.  These "things" aren't just random things that the person may like.  They're things that involve me, my relationship with that item and that person.  An experience. 

When I was younger I used to go with my dad to see my grandparents every other weekend.  They'd have a long list of things for him to do, mostly yardwork, and a short list of things that I could do.  I always switched out their winter and summer clothes that were in the attic.  I can still feel the heavy, suffocating heat from being up there during the summer.  I'd pump gas for them, and later drive to the gas station for them.  It didn't matter who had the cheapest gas, they were loyal to one locally owned place.  It smelled like smoke, had wood panelling, and a deformed dog behind the counter. My favorite chore was checking their mail.  They had a post office box in town that you had to open with a little gold key.  This was a new experience for me because I was only familiar with a mailbox.  For years I thought that if you lived in town you were automatically given a post office box and that it was a high class "rich person" thing.  It was exciting to open the little door and have mail in there.  Of course I stuck my hand all the way through it because I was fascinated about the goings on on the other side.

Today, for the first time since I first went off to college, I checked my grandparent's post office box.  There was a small cardboard box in it that I could barely get out- a treasure!  I don't know what was in the box but trying to get it out with one finger and then pulling out the envelopes behind it brought back the images and memories from older days.  I had to resist sticking my hand all the way through it.

Diapers

I have a theory that people are either a "baby person" or an "old people person" depending on who they work best with.  I'm not much of either but this last week I've had dealings with both.

Our family grew a little bigger with a new addition, baby Graham.  It's always awkward when you go see a newborn in a hospital.  Do I ask to hold the baby?  Is the mom going  to be funny about it since it's new?  Do I hug her? Is she sore? (What happens down there anyway?) I never know.  Thankfully my cousin asked if I wanted to hold him.  I did and I didn't drop him and he didn't cry from sheer terror.

Speaking of birthdays, May Moo had her second birthday party.  I can't believe she is two. She is  absolutely full of herself at this age.  She's ninety miles an hour and has the biggest smile.  She's also about to be a big sister! 

 Another cousin, Natilyee, came to May's party.  She sat in my lap almost the whole time.  What's with these kids? 

My dealings with "old folks" have been my grandparents.  They're finally in an assisted living facility and I'm so thankful.  I know my papa isn't that happy about it and my grandma has dimentia so she thinks she is going home every day.  It's a tough situation but I know it's for the best.

I've been cleaning up their house and going through stuff.  I came across more pictures.  I don't remember if I've posted these or not but here they are again:

My dad and papa

My grandma would describe her size as "skinny as a minute!"

Baby me and Papa

It's hard to watch a grown person change in to a child again.  I've been watching it with my grandma for a while now.  Papa is starting to get that way as well.  It's worse with him because he is more aware than my grandmother is.  He knows he is aging to the point that he cannot take care of either of them anymore. 

Through all of this I haven't been terribly upset about it because I know what they need and what is going to be the best for them.  Or maybe it's because I can distance myself emotionally in order to get done what needs to be done.  I also don't want them to see me upset because then it's harder on them.  I've been frustrated to the point of becoming "upset" but, thank God, some wonderfully helpful people have been helping me with all of this. 

The sermon on Sunday seemed to really tie in with all that has been going on, new life and old life.  That verse in 1st Timothy about coming into this world with nothing and leaving with nothing was mentioned.  I've thought about that quite a bit and it just makes me want to simplify everything in my own life.  How do we acquire so much stuff, tangibly and emotionally?  Hearing that verse and seeing these lives in front of me has helped me to worry less because what does most of this wordly "stuff" matter in the long run?  One day I too will be in a home only needing a few pairs of clothes and some diapers.