We bid snowy Prague adieu (ciao?) for slightly warmer holiday adventures in southern Italy. But before we go, we submit designs to a contest. The colors were required. The squares are crooked. We only realized two days ago we could turn in a series and scrambled to turn one card into three. We're feeling a little sheepish. But who cares? Ravioli, gelato, and dear friends await.
While some of us attempt to look manly in our tights, others feverishly clean.
I cannot leave on holiday with a dirty house. It's ridiculous. We'll return to an inch of dust. But I don't care; I have a pot of soup on the stove from the refrigerator remnants, and I have sparkly wood floors. Gus is too giddy to clean. He's got a rendezvous in Rome with an old friend coming up. His pal is also a Gus. Those two crazy kids backpacked together through the Singapore rainforest when we counted Gus's age in weeks. Can't wait to see how the boys have grown. And I'll enjoy it so much more knowing my toilets back home smell nice.
She is almost
13. And she is talented. Super Z sent me a postcard today--all collaged and drawn and fabulous:
Choices, choices. And the need for a color course. A recent contest offers three color schemes from which I have to pick my favortite. I'm iffy on all results both drawn and colored. Is anyone else remembering bathrooms from the 80's?
We're taking back Sunday. Sunday is about creative family times and not about mopey-Monday-is-coming times. And our Sundays really are packed with goodness--heaps-o-goodness--even though we were told at a recent event, "you guys could be so cool if you didn't have a kid. We might even be friends and have a good time." Thus, we'll keep it to ourselves that a good time involves Adobe Illustrator, the food processor, peek-a-boo, and
guess-that-Czech-vegetable.
Today's puzzle? Is it a melon or pumpkin? We were relieved with the answer.
Inspired by Zentangle, we're plotting a card for a very special January birthday. A birthday for someone who often gets overlooked in the art department even though he's the most important person that should receive the art.
The Linzer Cookie Research Institute continues its hard work. We thought we had a lot to do in the fall just with the neighborhood bakeries, but now that it is Christmas season the technicians are putting in overtime to keep up with the expanding selection at holiday markets. It's not just raspberry Linzers anymore. There's strawberry, and plum, and ginger, and ...
Whew. Good thing we have a lot of tea.
I hit the reset button today. Beautiful 10k snowy run, marzipan filled dates, conversation with witty Neighbor B about things unrelated to child rearing, a few stolen minutes perusing design blogs, and a hot shower. Okay. I'm ready for ya, Gus.
To continue to feel artistically productive even when pureeing turnips, I made myself a blackboard-paint covered canvas (blackboard paint = wonderful). It hangs in the kitchen and gets doodled on every month. Goodness,
I love my chalk.
"I am doing a good work and can not come down." Today I learned about errands in the snow, strollers in the slush, and babies in big snowsuits. It wasn't the easiest of days with broken elevators and first-time-attempts and tiny market aisles and dropped things in snowbanks and everything taking too long and so much to do and cold mama hands. But it was also a really really good day with a little joyasaurus-almost-eight-month-Boo seeing his first big snow and peeking around corners at me like I'm the most delightful gal on earth and maniacal giggles and a lot of reminders that I only have a this-aged-Gus for right now, and even when he pees on someone else's carpet and I forget a grocery bag and have to stuff the cabbage in my purse and tomatoes next to the baby, things are super good and need savoring and I would not have it any other way.
My mother helped us fend off the "Christmas Greedies" with little gifts on each Saturday of Advent. Usually they were something for us to do or something that marked time or something that added to the festive spirit of the house: Advent calendars (thus my love of doors in art), coloring books (my love of coloring in the lines), ornaments (apparently didn't rub off on me--there's no tree in this house), etc. She called them Saturday Surprises, and they were simply wonderful. And so, this year, P and Gus shared in our new family tradition receiving special treats upon awaking this past Saturday. And wouldn't you know it? There was a Saturday Surprise for me too. And at 9.5%, I'd say it was exactly what this mama needed to feel festive.
Neighbor B returned from Nice with a decadent treasure: souffle in a jar (thanks, France!). She's good at sharing tasties: pecan bars, rugelah, shortbread---and of course Reese's Peanut Butter Cups and the random Vanity Fair. We're into butter here in Europe. And the occasional article on Cher.
Poor Jamie. I didn't make her guestbook art for which she bought me the expensive and beautiful bristol (lugged all the way from the US). I didn't make it to her wedding. And I am still working on her wedding card. Sketches and ideas litter my desk...narrowly escaping being drooled on by a one-toothed-Gus.
I'm about as good at blogging as I am at running a business.
Two months later, we have a draft of a Christmas card. Is the scan pretty rough and the colors needing massive adjustments? Maybe. Is the border uneven? Maybe. Will we print it up? Maybe. Will we toss it? Maybe. Are we unsure if our Czech words truly say "Merry Christmas?" Maybe.
You have got to look up in this town! The rooftops and window frames are where it is at---Hidden art-deco designs and funky filigree, flower baskets and mosaics, murals and statues and looming clouds. I don't think I looked up very much in Singapore; the sweat might have rolled into my eyes. Feels good to lean back again!
Yesterday Gus and I saw a flock of at least fifteen dapper men—towering, important looking older men. They swung large cameras, briefcases, and walked in heavy, dark shoes. And…one of them had a bulldog. A beautiful bulldog in the midst of those navy suits. I wish I’d had MY camera.
We’re settling in here. It’s easier than expected in most ways and harder in ways that surprise. I’m not Becky the artist or teacher or writer or neighbor or wall-flower or runner or adventure racer. I'm not on a committee, and I don't have a school ID tag. I’m the lady-with-the-baby. And that’s not bad, but it’s new. And the newness doesn’t fit well yet. I don’t go out to evening jazz in the park. I don’t attend dinners at restaurants. I have smears of baby on my shirts, and I can’t always get the phone when people call. I’m the-lady-with-the-baby.
Prague shocks me with its beauty. It’s so beautiful that I can’t see it. I’ll turn a winding corridor and find myself startled at a store front and instead of stopping and breathing I just tell myself I’ll return to that spot in a few days and take it all in again. It’s all about Prague revisited for me. With Gus, we can either savor one small place for a long time, or we can zoom through multiple stops. I’m kind of impatient about knowing my city and find that we rush more than we savor. GD, a good breather, once wrote “breathe” on a big card that perched on her desk at work. She'd flash it at me as I sprinted past her classroom. I think it’s time for that above the kitchen sink.
So, we're not drawing a lot these days. We don't see much in the way of colored pencils and pens. We don't see the recycle bin filling with paper scraps from cut-out doors. We certainly don't see any homegrown art on the wall. But, we do see a lot of this. And for the current season in my life, just being might have to be my craft. So, OGB is taking a bit of a production hiatus as I settle into our new digs and my new identity.
