Twinings
Love is amazingly powerful. I suppose I've always been aware of this, it is not a new revelation. But by the same token, I do find myself reminded all the time of how true it really is.
Today I celebrated the second day of my boys' return to school by just sitting down and reading a book. I rarely have the luxury, so I took this opportunity. I had purchased the book, 'The Mermaid Chair' by Sue Monk Kidd and I curled up on my couch with a nice cold, iced tea and began reading. Wow. What an amazing writer she is...and what an incredibly well told story with so many seeds of human truth sown throughout it.
The characters in her story reminded me of my close-knit group of friends. Some of them very recently experienced very similar life changes as did her characters. So I would suppose I felt more than an average connection to the story.
I thought of how love can spring you free of stagnancy...how I've watched one friend throw off her shackles and how I've seen both the difficulties she struggled with initially, but how she is now so much happier. It's wonderful to see the sparkle in her eyes again...and to see her creativity flourishing.
I thought about my own struggles. I've had two failed relationships, and a childhood strewn with the rubble you might expect from a less than healthy upbringing. But now I am truly blessed with the most wonderful husband and partner in life. A man who doesn't try to restrain me, but celebrates with me my creative freedom. He understands that the artistic me needs to spread her wings and fly...but that I always come back to my nest...happier, healthier and more in love with him than ever.
In the container of my heart, I hold the love of two sparkling-eyed, rambunctious, creative and intelligent boys...whose hugs and kisses and laughter are the best remedy for anything that ails me.
I've sat as a spectator and watched love act as a motivator, I've seen it become the impetus that frees souls. I've felt it wrapping itself around me like a quilt of comfort and I've watched it become the center of my beautiful home. I will always remind myself and be eternally thankful for what an amazing and powerful gift love is. It changes hearts, it persuades thoughts, it refreshes the soul.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Monday, August 13, 2007
Stepping out of the Shower
Epiphany: a sudden striking understanding of something.
Let's just say that I had several yesterday. Epiphanies rained down on me like clear water from a cloudy sky! And what amazes me most, is that they always seem to come paired with moments when I feel completely lost and overwhelmed.
I had revelations about myself in the shower. About the core of who I am, and about how truly out of control I feel sometimes. I want to take my own power back and I am so very glad that I forced myself to do something I really didn't want to do.
One of the greatest epiphanies of my life seems to be that everytime I push past some barrier I have set up inside of myself...I find something new, unexpected...something that empowers me, strengthens me and puts my feet back on flat ground.
As I climbed the stairs of my friends' home yesterday, her husband confessed to being very nervous. I found myself patting his arm and saying "it will be fine". We went into the room where the lighting was best for taking the pictures and shut the door. Then they both talked about how hard it would be for them to do this and how nervous they were. I found that I was suddenly in the exact opposite position I found myself in only hours before. I was comforting and reassuring them. Explaining how I understood completely, as I was very self conscious about my own body...but that we are all much harder on ourselves than we'd ever be on each other. And with that...a light went off in my head.
It didn't matter that I think my friends are beautiful. It didn't matter that I felt I didn't measure up to that beauty and that I lament my body's descent into middle age. Because here they were, talking about themselves the way I talk about my own self. His wife addressed me, "remember when we were young and hot? But we didn't know it and we thought we were fat?"
I laughed. Yes, I remember clearly the beautiful body I'd had as a teenager and young adult. But I'd covered it up in huge t-shirts because I was ashamed of how "fat" I imagined I was. We all laughed together reminiscing about it...and it occurred to me that when I'm sixty, I'll probably be thinking the same thing about the body I had at 40. What a funny bunch we humans are.
So the tension melted away...and as they disrobed, I found myself lost in the artistic splendor and beauty of a pregnant woman. The beauty of a couple who love one another and love the new life coming into their world. I found tears stinging my eyes just slightly...but this time they were tears of warmth, understanding, and joy. I felt privelaged that I had been allowed to share a special moment in their lives and very proud of them for fighting their own inhibitions to do something that will no doubt forever be a cherished memory.
Epiphany: a sudden striking understanding of something.
Let's just say that I had several yesterday. Epiphanies rained down on me like clear water from a cloudy sky! And what amazes me most, is that they always seem to come paired with moments when I feel completely lost and overwhelmed.
I had revelations about myself in the shower. About the core of who I am, and about how truly out of control I feel sometimes. I want to take my own power back and I am so very glad that I forced myself to do something I really didn't want to do.
One of the greatest epiphanies of my life seems to be that everytime I push past some barrier I have set up inside of myself...I find something new, unexpected...something that empowers me, strengthens me and puts my feet back on flat ground.
As I climbed the stairs of my friends' home yesterday, her husband confessed to being very nervous. I found myself patting his arm and saying "it will be fine". We went into the room where the lighting was best for taking the pictures and shut the door. Then they both talked about how hard it would be for them to do this and how nervous they were. I found that I was suddenly in the exact opposite position I found myself in only hours before. I was comforting and reassuring them. Explaining how I understood completely, as I was very self conscious about my own body...but that we are all much harder on ourselves than we'd ever be on each other. And with that...a light went off in my head.
It didn't matter that I think my friends are beautiful. It didn't matter that I felt I didn't measure up to that beauty and that I lament my body's descent into middle age. Because here they were, talking about themselves the way I talk about my own self. His wife addressed me, "remember when we were young and hot? But we didn't know it and we thought we were fat?"
I laughed. Yes, I remember clearly the beautiful body I'd had as a teenager and young adult. But I'd covered it up in huge t-shirts because I was ashamed of how "fat" I imagined I was. We all laughed together reminiscing about it...and it occurred to me that when I'm sixty, I'll probably be thinking the same thing about the body I had at 40. What a funny bunch we humans are.
So the tension melted away...and as they disrobed, I found myself lost in the artistic splendor and beauty of a pregnant woman. The beauty of a couple who love one another and love the new life coming into their world. I found tears stinging my eyes just slightly...but this time they were tears of warmth, understanding, and joy. I felt privelaged that I had been allowed to share a special moment in their lives and very proud of them for fighting their own inhibitions to do something that will no doubt forever be a cherished memory.
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Cowering in the Shower
Not so long ago, I received a call from two friends of mine. They are a married couple and they wanted to employ my artistic talents for a special project. They had taken some tasteful nude pictures of themselves together and wanted someone they trust to do a pen and ink rendering of the pictures in a large collage on canvas.
My first instinct was to say no. I wanted to say no.
So let me stop here and clarify: I'm not a prude. I absolutely love tastefully done celebrations of the human body. Whether that be photography, paintings, sculpture...whatever. But this loud voice within, the one screaming "NO!" was doing so for a completely different reason.
Despite the voice, I agreed to do it. They came to my home one evening with the pictures in tow and we sorted through them together to decide which ones to include in the artwork. I survived. I tucked the pictures away in a file for future reference...because I wouldn't be able to start working on the project until my kids were back in school. Out of sight, out of mind. For now.
Well, all was well until I received a second call from my friends. The wife is pregnant with their second child and they really want some nude photos of her while pregnant...perhaps some with the two of them together as well. Again, tastefully done - just a beautiful celebration of this special phase of life. Could I take the pictures for them and then make a second ink rendering from those? They asked.
Every "NO" alarm in my body was ringing at 900 decibels. But that uncooperative mouth of mine said, "yeah, sure...I can do it for you."
Today is the day. The picture taking day. So I slowly drag around this morning wishing for some virulent illness to overtake me at any moment...begging for a migraine...praying for anything that could stop the gears that are in motion. But no, no such luck.
As I navigated my morning...I found myself feeling dark, depressed, hollow and achy inside. Finally, I face that I must get ready, and I step into the shower, my heart sinking ever lower on the horizon. I don't have any explanation why this project is such an obstacle to me as I step into the shower, allowing hot water to sluice it's way across my shoulders.
I feel the tears stinging my eyes, welling up, spilling over. I turn my face to the wall and tuck my hands in over my chest. I feel defensive, open to criticism, vulnerable. The spray from the shower mingles with my tears as I hear voices in my head. My stepmother making fun of my flat butt, my father calling me stupid, kids in school making fun of my Montgomery Ward catalog clothes that I was forced to wear. Then my own voice chimes in..."stick to what you're good at Dana" it chants. "Make glass beads. Run away from everything else."
I realize that sometimes I bury myself in my glass to hide from my own perceived inadequacies in other areas. I'm at a loss to deal with my moody eldest son. He's so sensitive, but also so hard headed and sometimes extremely disrespectful. My mental train quickly switches tracks. I begin thinking about how I want to believe I am beautiful just the way I am, somewhat overweight, getting older and saggier...but what my head preaches my heart just won't embrace.
The voice is now chanting, "yeah, you aren't so beautiful really, are you?" Taunting me. And I wonder how I ever got so vain in the first place that outward beauty matters that much. What happened to me so long ago that made it nearly impossible for me to feel good about myself? I sag deeper against the wall, my pain coming out in barely concealed squeaks as my tears flow harder. I recite the words stamped in the metal face of a bracelet I want to buy on Etsy, "STRONG IN THE BROKEN PLACES." But I don't feel strong at all.
All these things run through my head as I stand there, face buried in the tile. I suddenly understand exactly why I don't want to do this project. It has nothing to do with being a prude, nothing to do with jealousy or envy, it has everything to do with the gaping wound inside of me. The part of me that feels like a failure, the part of me that feels hopelessly un-beautiful. The part of me that I fight against so hard, but never seem to outwit.
The woman I will be photographing is beautiful. She has that body...the one people don't believe truly exists because it requires airbrushing and computer alterations. No. She has that body without airbrushes and without computer software. AND she's pregnant. And as I absorb all these facts in my bathroom sanctuary...I realize that this is the core of the problem. I will have to go face her...the woman who represents the two things I am struggling with right now as I just pass my 40 year birthday. By facing her, I will face the fact that my body has changed to something less than beautiful and desirable by "standards". That I'm growing older, saggier, and chubbier and that I simply don't love myself "as I am", which is what I want to do ideally, but can't seem to acheive. By facing her, I will also face the most painful of my issues...the fact that time is running out and I may never be a mother again.
I long to be pregnant. To have one more shot at motherhood before my time is done, and to complete the broken circle that I feel almost like it is a tangible, living thing since we lost our baby daughter.
As I realize these things, and contemplate life's workings...I again feel that every damn thing in life happens for some annoying reason. Do I believe for a minute I was given this challenge randomly? NO WAY. I am meant to face it, and I don't want to. Not at all. I stand in the shower, my tears slowing...and I hear that voice in my head again, "Are you just going to cower in the shower all day?"
I sigh. "no. I'm not".
Not so long ago, I received a call from two friends of mine. They are a married couple and they wanted to employ my artistic talents for a special project. They had taken some tasteful nude pictures of themselves together and wanted someone they trust to do a pen and ink rendering of the pictures in a large collage on canvas.
My first instinct was to say no. I wanted to say no.
So let me stop here and clarify: I'm not a prude. I absolutely love tastefully done celebrations of the human body. Whether that be photography, paintings, sculpture...whatever. But this loud voice within, the one screaming "NO!" was doing so for a completely different reason.
Despite the voice, I agreed to do it. They came to my home one evening with the pictures in tow and we sorted through them together to decide which ones to include in the artwork. I survived. I tucked the pictures away in a file for future reference...because I wouldn't be able to start working on the project until my kids were back in school. Out of sight, out of mind. For now.
Well, all was well until I received a second call from my friends. The wife is pregnant with their second child and they really want some nude photos of her while pregnant...perhaps some with the two of them together as well. Again, tastefully done - just a beautiful celebration of this special phase of life. Could I take the pictures for them and then make a second ink rendering from those? They asked.
Every "NO" alarm in my body was ringing at 900 decibels. But that uncooperative mouth of mine said, "yeah, sure...I can do it for you."
Today is the day. The picture taking day. So I slowly drag around this morning wishing for some virulent illness to overtake me at any moment...begging for a migraine...praying for anything that could stop the gears that are in motion. But no, no such luck.
As I navigated my morning...I found myself feeling dark, depressed, hollow and achy inside. Finally, I face that I must get ready, and I step into the shower, my heart sinking ever lower on the horizon. I don't have any explanation why this project is such an obstacle to me as I step into the shower, allowing hot water to sluice it's way across my shoulders.
I feel the tears stinging my eyes, welling up, spilling over. I turn my face to the wall and tuck my hands in over my chest. I feel defensive, open to criticism, vulnerable. The spray from the shower mingles with my tears as I hear voices in my head. My stepmother making fun of my flat butt, my father calling me stupid, kids in school making fun of my Montgomery Ward catalog clothes that I was forced to wear. Then my own voice chimes in..."stick to what you're good at Dana" it chants. "Make glass beads. Run away from everything else."
I realize that sometimes I bury myself in my glass to hide from my own perceived inadequacies in other areas. I'm at a loss to deal with my moody eldest son. He's so sensitive, but also so hard headed and sometimes extremely disrespectful. My mental train quickly switches tracks. I begin thinking about how I want to believe I am beautiful just the way I am, somewhat overweight, getting older and saggier...but what my head preaches my heart just won't embrace.
The voice is now chanting, "yeah, you aren't so beautiful really, are you?" Taunting me. And I wonder how I ever got so vain in the first place that outward beauty matters that much. What happened to me so long ago that made it nearly impossible for me to feel good about myself? I sag deeper against the wall, my pain coming out in barely concealed squeaks as my tears flow harder. I recite the words stamped in the metal face of a bracelet I want to buy on Etsy, "STRONG IN THE BROKEN PLACES." But I don't feel strong at all.
All these things run through my head as I stand there, face buried in the tile. I suddenly understand exactly why I don't want to do this project. It has nothing to do with being a prude, nothing to do with jealousy or envy, it has everything to do with the gaping wound inside of me. The part of me that feels like a failure, the part of me that feels hopelessly un-beautiful. The part of me that I fight against so hard, but never seem to outwit.
The woman I will be photographing is beautiful. She has that body...the one people don't believe truly exists because it requires airbrushing and computer alterations. No. She has that body without airbrushes and without computer software. AND she's pregnant. And as I absorb all these facts in my bathroom sanctuary...I realize that this is the core of the problem. I will have to go face her...the woman who represents the two things I am struggling with right now as I just pass my 40 year birthday. By facing her, I will face the fact that my body has changed to something less than beautiful and desirable by "standards". That I'm growing older, saggier, and chubbier and that I simply don't love myself "as I am", which is what I want to do ideally, but can't seem to acheive. By facing her, I will also face the most painful of my issues...the fact that time is running out and I may never be a mother again.
I long to be pregnant. To have one more shot at motherhood before my time is done, and to complete the broken circle that I feel almost like it is a tangible, living thing since we lost our baby daughter.
As I realize these things, and contemplate life's workings...I again feel that every damn thing in life happens for some annoying reason. Do I believe for a minute I was given this challenge randomly? NO WAY. I am meant to face it, and I don't want to. Not at all. I stand in the shower, my tears slowing...and I hear that voice in my head again, "Are you just going to cower in the shower all day?"
I sigh. "no. I'm not".
Monday, August 6, 2007
Diving In Head First - The ISGB Gathering
I love adventure, I really do. But there's this part of me that has to be pushed along forcefully in order to participate in adventures. So as I left the comfort and seclusion of my rural home in Indiana to head for the Indianapolis airport, it was not without a bagload of worries too. Would I get there in time? Would I get lost? Would I get the strip search and interrogation? LOL Yes, a creative imagination is not ALWAYS a good thing...trust me!
Amazingly, I arrived at the airport just fine. Had a few minor flusters over finding long term parking and leaving my carry on at the x-ray machine. *sigh* That's just my typical ditziness coming out there. I definitely felt like the unseasoned traveler I am. But finally I settled in and distracted myself with a good book while waiting to board the plane. Before I knew it, I was aboard the plane...managed to stash my overhead bag without knocking my fellow passengers unconscious or spilling the contents (beads, of course) all over the aisleway causing the stewardess to fall and break a hip as I had imagined might happen. (again, that blasted imagination of mine!) My heart slowed it's fearsome pace as I took my seat, and buried my nose in my book.
The flight was a short one, and in a little less than two hours, I had arrived at the Minneapolis Airport. After several more creative fantasies about being lost in a strange new place full of rabid, bloodthirsty vampires, not finding my baggage carousel or WORSE not finding my baggage...lol...I finally had everything and had called my dear friend Robyn who was circling the pickup area waiting for me. (yay! she hadn't forgotten me while chatting with some handsome multi-millionaire in Starbucks! hahaha) With all this creative worry, is it a wonder I don't have an ulcer? I'm thinking it is.
Happy to see each other again, we shared hugs, laughs and for me...RELIEF. We piled my luggage in the car and headed for the Mall of America. I was absolutely AMAZED by the mall. I'm not a total hick...I've seen large malls before. After all, I grew up in Cincinnati where we have a mall the size of a football stadium...but I have NEVER seen anything like this. A huge roller coaster, water flume, and Ferris wheel in a MALL? Wow! They had a Legoland that my kids would go nuts for and a Nascar simulator that my hubby would absolutely love to try. I decided I would definitely have to come back with my whole family and pay another visit to the Mall.
Robyn and her husband treated me to a wonderful birthday dinner and then headed back to Robyn's to "rest up" (hahaha...as IF that was going to happen) for our first big day at the ISGB (International Society of Glass Beadmakers) show. I think we went to bed at about 2am. ha!
DAY ONE: We arrived at the show. I felt like a kid again...all tingly with anticipation. What was it going to be like? Who would we meet? Would we see our friends? First we signed in. We each received a tote bag with a bead attached to it and loads of information stashed inside of it about the show, vendors, specials and of course, tourist info for the city. My bead was fantastic...and the only thing I wished was that I knew who made it! But perhaps that would take away some of the mystery! We took a cursory glance at the leaflets and information inside...but then wandered around to see what we could see. We soon found the Vendors area...and all I can say is...thanks for turning me loose in the candy store! ha! Glass, glass, glass. Tools tools tools. Fantasy world of the lampworker becomes reality. I think I had spent nearly half my money in less than 2 hours. hahaha ;)
We finally tore ourselves away from the small dent we'd made in visiting the vendors, and headed off for the afternoon orientation session for newbies like us. We both got strands of Mardi Gras beads...and NO...we didn't have to flash anything other than a smile to get them. LOL We learned a bit about past shows, and what to expect for this one. We went on a tour of the different areas where activities were to be held and I felt alot more comfortable after that...after all, I didn't have to fantasize that it was like the first day of high school when I'd be searching endlessly for mysterious disappearing classrooms and never find them.
We stuck around for open torch that evening...but neither one of us actually felt brave enough to sit down and try it...so we just wandered around watching everyone else. It was an amazing set up...and people were making some incredible works of art. We saw huge torches that resembled mini-bonfires and people creating sculptures, blowing glass, etc...besides just making amazing beads. It was a lot of fun to watch, but we finally decided to call it a night and headed home for the evening.
DAY TWO: Well, after staying up half the night again...we moved a bit slower on Friday. ;) We headed in for the show and found ourselves magnetically pulled back to the vendor area. Imagine that. We spent awhile shopping...then realized we were missing a demonstration we wanted to see, so off we went in search of enlightenment...or at least some cool new techniques? I met some nice folks in the demo room...and one of the lovely ladies gave me a free bead from her stash. I picked a beautiful leaf she had created...then we settled in to watch the demo.
After the demo ended, we ran into several of our online friends. Lots of chatting and laughing, and then we parted ways and headed off for dinner. We returned full of food and happy...and decided that tonight we were going to give open torch a try. We headed off to the roomful of pyros to add our fuel to the fire! hahaha
I sat down in front of a torch that looked like some foreign abomination. It had more knobs than a vending machine, I swear! Okay...maybe just five. LOL Still, I am used to 2 simple little knobs, one for Propane, one for Oxygen. So I was bewildered as to how to light the thing. Finally someone guided me a bit, but none of us realized that the last person had left the oxygen going...so when I lit the propane...it let out a loud *POP*. Scared me witless and made the people around me jump too. Great! Why doesn't someone just pin a neon tag on me that says, "WARNING: NEWBIE". hahaha But after the initial scare...all was fine. I made a nice little bead and then had to give up my seat to the next person in line. I found out afterward that the torch was a Phantom torch. It has two sets of ports so you can work with one on for less heat, or both on if you want to work with harder glass, like boro. That's what all the knobs were for. AHA! Now I get it. *wink*
After we both played around...we walked around and watched other folks torch...and then decided we should head home and TRY to make it an early night...as Saturday was going to be the bead show...and I had a booth to attend to. I think we did manage to get to bed by 1am. heehee
DAY THREE: Ever have that dream? You know, the classic one where you show up to school in nothing but your underwear and everyone is staring and laughing? YEAH. That's how the day of the bead show started out for me. We got there at 8am to set up. And at first I was very preoccupied with unloading my goodies and spreading my tablecloth, etc. I had gone with a simple black and white theme on my table, with just a few little splashes of red color here and there. I had packed my beads in plastic boxes, securely cushioned with white cotton batting. I pulled them out, took out the inserts and laid them on the table...still oblivious to my surroundings. Each bead had it's own cubby in the boxes, the boxes were all labeled with the pricing, and each bead or bead set rested on a soft cloud of white batting. Okay, done! WHEW!
I go sit down. Then and ONLY then do I glance around me. OH MY GOD. These people had multi tiered displays, beautiful artsy lighting fixtures arcing down on their gorgeous artwork. Signage across the front of their booths announcing their logo and name. Everywhere I looked, I saw a sea of classiness and beauty...UNTIL...I glanced at my plastic boxes. Suddenly I felt tears stinging the back of my eyes and I wanted to crawl under a rock. Robyn sensed my embarrassment and wrapped an arm around me. "It will be okay" she whispered. I felt really helpless...and I text messaged my hubby to tell him how gausche my display was, how cheap my plastic boxes looked, and how I felt like crying. He said, "take them out of the boxes".
I love my husband. He has a way of thinking of the obvious when I'm too distraught to do it myself. So, I took them out of the boxes, peeled off the price tags and stuck them on the table. It was definitely an improvement. My display still wasn't nearly as nice as the others, but definitely liveable. Early in the show, a friend came by and commented that I should lower my prices. I had some trouble deciding beforehand what to price my items at, so I just did an average of my online sales. Well, of course, I started wondering if I'd overpriced my beads. Luckily for me, I was surrounded by the nicest women with years of experience...and they were a wonderful source of help for me.
Just behind me was Pam Dugger and her friend, Barb Svetlick. Barb really took me under her wing and gave me loads of advice about my setup for next year's show. She also peeked at my prices and told me in no uncertain terms that I had better not even think of lowering them. LOL She was wonderful! To my left was another wonderful artist named Bernadette. She came over to peek at my stuff and was so encouraging to me. She asked if I use presses to get the shapes I had acheived with my beads, and I told her no. Only every now and then do I use a press, I said. She encouraged me to keep that up...telling me that true artistry is all about interpretation...letting the glass flow freely to capture the story or idea you are trying to convey. She also noticed that alot of my beads were "disappearing" on the black background. She helped me shape white tissue paper on the table, and then we laid my beads out on that. It really made a huge improvement...and I noticed that a lot more people stopped and looked at my work after that.
After the rather rough start, I found myself relaxing. I talked to just about every single person that came by...joked and laughed and had the most wonderful time! (Robyn and I had a chuckle about my talkativeness. I told her "see, this is what happens when you stay at home all day with a 6 and 8 year old. You're starved for adult interaction!") I checked out everyone's jewelry as they came by...saw some wonderful and inspiring things...and just had great fun meeting people. Lots of business cards went with people, and I sold five items which was actually quite good I thought, considering my less than inspiring display and the AMAZING and incredibly talented and experienced artists all around me.
Barb recommended that I go meet Larry Brickman at one point, and the lady behind me volunteered to take me over to meet him. So off we went. I'm going to be terribly honest here...I have NO idea who anyone is. A few people's names I know...like Pam Dugger, Kimberly Affleck, Kim Neely...you know...those people I've heard of. Ana of Anastasia Beads is a good friend of mine...so I know her. But, in general, I could be talking to a star player in the lampworking universe and I would NEVER know it. I'm in my own little world. So I honestly had no idea who Larry was, but Barb said I should meet him, so I tagged along to meet him and to see his amazing beads.
After introductions and jokes, I had a nice conversation with Larry...and I felt so much better after he asked if I had a booth at the show. I responded with a "yes". He said, "how long have you been lampworking?" I said, "two years." He said, "two years! and you have a booth? YOU GO GIRL!!!" LOL He was a hoot...and I was glad I went to meet him. What he said in that short conversation helped me change my feeling of being a gausche little newbie to feeling like a fearless explorer! I went back to my booth very glad that I had taken that risk.
Later in the afternoon, I had even more wonderful and validating experiences. A pretty young woman came to my booth and began looking at my beads. She commented on how pretty they were and then she introduced herself as a representative of Flow Magazine. She then asked me if I'd be willing to submit some pictures of my work for an upcoming article on Women in Lampworking. I had to pinch myself under the table...lol...but I told her I'd love to! So she gave me submission guidelines information and said she'd look forward to seeing my work. This had to be one of the highlights of my trip!
I was also asked by a tooling company if I'd be willing to try out some of their molds and promo them on Ebay. I was going to stop by their vendor booth, but ended up not getting a chance to go back to the show on Sunday...so I missed them. I didn't get their card either, although they did take mine. So who knows what will come of that? But it was definitely an idea I would have liked to have tried out.
Saturday evening was the banquet, which was delicious and wonderful! Robyn and I sat at a table with Scott Tanner and his sister, Trudi. They were soooo much fun and we laughed our tushies off...okay, not really, I checked mine just now and the darn thing's still there! *sigh* But yeah, they were great! Ana was on my left and she was giving me heck, as always...she's such a nut too. And another really cool thing was meeting my online friend Debbie Pierce. She and I discovered about a year ago that we were born on the exact same day in the exact same year. So it was great fun to meet her in person, and she ate dinner with us as well. All in all, Saturday turned into a really wonderful time...and we dragged home well after midnight...then stayed up til a record 3:30 am...or was it 4? hahaha
DAY FOUR: Well, like I said, both Robyn and I were pretty tired after all the late nights and running back and forth to the city. So, we decided to just sleep in on Sunday and head to the airport around 2:30ish for me to make my flight home. I had such a great time...and Robyn and I have definitely decided to get together again. We are like old friends...it was comfortable and familiar...and I thoroughly enjoyed spending time with her.
So, you know those crazy fantasies of mine? Well, my trip home was more than eventful! LOL I got to the airport only to discover that my license was not in my purse and nowhere to be found on my person. I (of course) panicked. Would I even be able to get on the plane without ID? What would they do to me? AAAHHHHH! I approached the security guy to explain. He wasn't friendly. He said, "they'll have to do a 'special check' on you." He pointed me over to a spot to wait for my "special check". GREAT. Here I am, visualizing angry looking security people with bulging muscles and rubber gloves coming at me. Instead, a grey haired woman and a young african american woman waved me over. I did get a pat down and they did go through my carry on and my purse with some tiny little electronic devices...but when it was all said and done, it wasn't anything like my rampant imagination had cooked up.
I go through the boarding gate, and head to the gate # I'd seen on my boarding pass when I did my preflight check in online. As I sat at my gate reading my book...I noticed they kept talking about a Canadian flight and a delay...blah, blah, blah. Finally, when it was nearly 4pm (flight was leaving at 4:10) I decided I'd better double check my boarding pass for the flight time, cuz no one was saying "let's board folks". OH MY GOD. The person that checks the boarding pass had crossed out the gate number with red pen and wrote a different gate number underneath. Did they tell me? NO.
So you can imagine the sprint I did in flip flops and a 200 lb carryon bag full of glass rods. I got to the gate only to see the entry tube slightly pulled away from my plane and not a soul in the waiting area. Luckily for me, the attendant came out of the tube into the waiting area and said, "who are you?" "Dana Graham" I replied. She said, "come on...we'll get you on board." Talk about a relief!!! Again, sitting down with my heart pounding...I let out a long sigh and buried myself in my book to forget my trauma.
I love adventure.
Dana :)
I love adventure, I really do. But there's this part of me that has to be pushed along forcefully in order to participate in adventures. So as I left the comfort and seclusion of my rural home in Indiana to head for the Indianapolis airport, it was not without a bagload of worries too. Would I get there in time? Would I get lost? Would I get the strip search and interrogation? LOL Yes, a creative imagination is not ALWAYS a good thing...trust me!
Amazingly, I arrived at the airport just fine. Had a few minor flusters over finding long term parking and leaving my carry on at the x-ray machine. *sigh* That's just my typical ditziness coming out there. I definitely felt like the unseasoned traveler I am. But finally I settled in and distracted myself with a good book while waiting to board the plane. Before I knew it, I was aboard the plane...managed to stash my overhead bag without knocking my fellow passengers unconscious or spilling the contents (beads, of course) all over the aisleway causing the stewardess to fall and break a hip as I had imagined might happen. (again, that blasted imagination of mine!) My heart slowed it's fearsome pace as I took my seat, and buried my nose in my book.
The flight was a short one, and in a little less than two hours, I had arrived at the Minneapolis Airport. After several more creative fantasies about being lost in a strange new place full of rabid, bloodthirsty vampires, not finding my baggage carousel or WORSE not finding my baggage...lol...I finally had everything and had called my dear friend Robyn who was circling the pickup area waiting for me. (yay! she hadn't forgotten me while chatting with some handsome multi-millionaire in Starbucks! hahaha) With all this creative worry, is it a wonder I don't have an ulcer? I'm thinking it is.
Happy to see each other again, we shared hugs, laughs and for me...RELIEF. We piled my luggage in the car and headed for the Mall of America. I was absolutely AMAZED by the mall. I'm not a total hick...I've seen large malls before. After all, I grew up in Cincinnati where we have a mall the size of a football stadium...but I have NEVER seen anything like this. A huge roller coaster, water flume, and Ferris wheel in a MALL? Wow! They had a Legoland that my kids would go nuts for and a Nascar simulator that my hubby would absolutely love to try. I decided I would definitely have to come back with my whole family and pay another visit to the Mall.
Robyn and her husband treated me to a wonderful birthday dinner and then headed back to Robyn's to "rest up" (hahaha...as IF that was going to happen) for our first big day at the ISGB (International Society of Glass Beadmakers) show. I think we went to bed at about 2am. ha!
DAY ONE: We arrived at the show. I felt like a kid again...all tingly with anticipation. What was it going to be like? Who would we meet? Would we see our friends? First we signed in. We each received a tote bag with a bead attached to it and loads of information stashed inside of it about the show, vendors, specials and of course, tourist info for the city. My bead was fantastic...and the only thing I wished was that I knew who made it! But perhaps that would take away some of the mystery! We took a cursory glance at the leaflets and information inside...but then wandered around to see what we could see. We soon found the Vendors area...and all I can say is...thanks for turning me loose in the candy store! ha! Glass, glass, glass. Tools tools tools. Fantasy world of the lampworker becomes reality. I think I had spent nearly half my money in less than 2 hours. hahaha ;)
We finally tore ourselves away from the small dent we'd made in visiting the vendors, and headed off for the afternoon orientation session for newbies like us. We both got strands of Mardi Gras beads...and NO...we didn't have to flash anything other than a smile to get them. LOL We learned a bit about past shows, and what to expect for this one. We went on a tour of the different areas where activities were to be held and I felt alot more comfortable after that...after all, I didn't have to fantasize that it was like the first day of high school when I'd be searching endlessly for mysterious disappearing classrooms and never find them.
We stuck around for open torch that evening...but neither one of us actually felt brave enough to sit down and try it...so we just wandered around watching everyone else. It was an amazing set up...and people were making some incredible works of art. We saw huge torches that resembled mini-bonfires and people creating sculptures, blowing glass, etc...besides just making amazing beads. It was a lot of fun to watch, but we finally decided to call it a night and headed home for the evening.
DAY TWO: Well, after staying up half the night again...we moved a bit slower on Friday. ;) We headed in for the show and found ourselves magnetically pulled back to the vendor area. Imagine that. We spent awhile shopping...then realized we were missing a demonstration we wanted to see, so off we went in search of enlightenment...or at least some cool new techniques? I met some nice folks in the demo room...and one of the lovely ladies gave me a free bead from her stash. I picked a beautiful leaf she had created...then we settled in to watch the demo.
After the demo ended, we ran into several of our online friends. Lots of chatting and laughing, and then we parted ways and headed off for dinner. We returned full of food and happy...and decided that tonight we were going to give open torch a try. We headed off to the roomful of pyros to add our fuel to the fire! hahaha
I sat down in front of a torch that looked like some foreign abomination. It had more knobs than a vending machine, I swear! Okay...maybe just five. LOL Still, I am used to 2 simple little knobs, one for Propane, one for Oxygen. So I was bewildered as to how to light the thing. Finally someone guided me a bit, but none of us realized that the last person had left the oxygen going...so when I lit the propane...it let out a loud *POP*. Scared me witless and made the people around me jump too. Great! Why doesn't someone just pin a neon tag on me that says, "WARNING: NEWBIE". hahaha But after the initial scare...all was fine. I made a nice little bead and then had to give up my seat to the next person in line. I found out afterward that the torch was a Phantom torch. It has two sets of ports so you can work with one on for less heat, or both on if you want to work with harder glass, like boro. That's what all the knobs were for. AHA! Now I get it. *wink*
After we both played around...we walked around and watched other folks torch...and then decided we should head home and TRY to make it an early night...as Saturday was going to be the bead show...and I had a booth to attend to. I think we did manage to get to bed by 1am. heehee
DAY THREE: Ever have that dream? You know, the classic one where you show up to school in nothing but your underwear and everyone is staring and laughing? YEAH. That's how the day of the bead show started out for me. We got there at 8am to set up. And at first I was very preoccupied with unloading my goodies and spreading my tablecloth, etc. I had gone with a simple black and white theme on my table, with just a few little splashes of red color here and there. I had packed my beads in plastic boxes, securely cushioned with white cotton batting. I pulled them out, took out the inserts and laid them on the table...still oblivious to my surroundings. Each bead had it's own cubby in the boxes, the boxes were all labeled with the pricing, and each bead or bead set rested on a soft cloud of white batting. Okay, done! WHEW!
I go sit down. Then and ONLY then do I glance around me. OH MY GOD. These people had multi tiered displays, beautiful artsy lighting fixtures arcing down on their gorgeous artwork. Signage across the front of their booths announcing their logo and name. Everywhere I looked, I saw a sea of classiness and beauty...UNTIL...I glanced at my plastic boxes. Suddenly I felt tears stinging the back of my eyes and I wanted to crawl under a rock. Robyn sensed my embarrassment and wrapped an arm around me. "It will be okay" she whispered. I felt really helpless...and I text messaged my hubby to tell him how gausche my display was, how cheap my plastic boxes looked, and how I felt like crying. He said, "take them out of the boxes".
I love my husband. He has a way of thinking of the obvious when I'm too distraught to do it myself. So, I took them out of the boxes, peeled off the price tags and stuck them on the table. It was definitely an improvement. My display still wasn't nearly as nice as the others, but definitely liveable. Early in the show, a friend came by and commented that I should lower my prices. I had some trouble deciding beforehand what to price my items at, so I just did an average of my online sales. Well, of course, I started wondering if I'd overpriced my beads. Luckily for me, I was surrounded by the nicest women with years of experience...and they were a wonderful source of help for me.
Just behind me was Pam Dugger and her friend, Barb Svetlick. Barb really took me under her wing and gave me loads of advice about my setup for next year's show. She also peeked at my prices and told me in no uncertain terms that I had better not even think of lowering them. LOL She was wonderful! To my left was another wonderful artist named Bernadette. She came over to peek at my stuff and was so encouraging to me. She asked if I use presses to get the shapes I had acheived with my beads, and I told her no. Only every now and then do I use a press, I said. She encouraged me to keep that up...telling me that true artistry is all about interpretation...letting the glass flow freely to capture the story or idea you are trying to convey. She also noticed that alot of my beads were "disappearing" on the black background. She helped me shape white tissue paper on the table, and then we laid my beads out on that. It really made a huge improvement...and I noticed that a lot more people stopped and looked at my work after that.
After the rather rough start, I found myself relaxing. I talked to just about every single person that came by...joked and laughed and had the most wonderful time! (Robyn and I had a chuckle about my talkativeness. I told her "see, this is what happens when you stay at home all day with a 6 and 8 year old. You're starved for adult interaction!") I checked out everyone's jewelry as they came by...saw some wonderful and inspiring things...and just had great fun meeting people. Lots of business cards went with people, and I sold five items which was actually quite good I thought, considering my less than inspiring display and the AMAZING and incredibly talented and experienced artists all around me.
Barb recommended that I go meet Larry Brickman at one point, and the lady behind me volunteered to take me over to meet him. So off we went. I'm going to be terribly honest here...I have NO idea who anyone is. A few people's names I know...like Pam Dugger, Kimberly Affleck, Kim Neely...you know...those people I've heard of. Ana of Anastasia Beads is a good friend of mine...so I know her. But, in general, I could be talking to a star player in the lampworking universe and I would NEVER know it. I'm in my own little world. So I honestly had no idea who Larry was, but Barb said I should meet him, so I tagged along to meet him and to see his amazing beads.
After introductions and jokes, I had a nice conversation with Larry...and I felt so much better after he asked if I had a booth at the show. I responded with a "yes". He said, "how long have you been lampworking?" I said, "two years." He said, "two years! and you have a booth? YOU GO GIRL!!!" LOL He was a hoot...and I was glad I went to meet him. What he said in that short conversation helped me change my feeling of being a gausche little newbie to feeling like a fearless explorer! I went back to my booth very glad that I had taken that risk.
Later in the afternoon, I had even more wonderful and validating experiences. A pretty young woman came to my booth and began looking at my beads. She commented on how pretty they were and then she introduced herself as a representative of Flow Magazine. She then asked me if I'd be willing to submit some pictures of my work for an upcoming article on Women in Lampworking. I had to pinch myself under the table...lol...but I told her I'd love to! So she gave me submission guidelines information and said she'd look forward to seeing my work. This had to be one of the highlights of my trip!
I was also asked by a tooling company if I'd be willing to try out some of their molds and promo them on Ebay. I was going to stop by their vendor booth, but ended up not getting a chance to go back to the show on Sunday...so I missed them. I didn't get their card either, although they did take mine. So who knows what will come of that? But it was definitely an idea I would have liked to have tried out.
Saturday evening was the banquet, which was delicious and wonderful! Robyn and I sat at a table with Scott Tanner and his sister, Trudi. They were soooo much fun and we laughed our tushies off...okay, not really, I checked mine just now and the darn thing's still there! *sigh* But yeah, they were great! Ana was on my left and she was giving me heck, as always...she's such a nut too. And another really cool thing was meeting my online friend Debbie Pierce. She and I discovered about a year ago that we were born on the exact same day in the exact same year. So it was great fun to meet her in person, and she ate dinner with us as well. All in all, Saturday turned into a really wonderful time...and we dragged home well after midnight...then stayed up til a record 3:30 am...or was it 4? hahaha
DAY FOUR: Well, like I said, both Robyn and I were pretty tired after all the late nights and running back and forth to the city. So, we decided to just sleep in on Sunday and head to the airport around 2:30ish for me to make my flight home. I had such a great time...and Robyn and I have definitely decided to get together again. We are like old friends...it was comfortable and familiar...and I thoroughly enjoyed spending time with her.
So, you know those crazy fantasies of mine? Well, my trip home was more than eventful! LOL I got to the airport only to discover that my license was not in my purse and nowhere to be found on my person. I (of course) panicked. Would I even be able to get on the plane without ID? What would they do to me? AAAHHHHH! I approached the security guy to explain. He wasn't friendly. He said, "they'll have to do a 'special check' on you." He pointed me over to a spot to wait for my "special check". GREAT. Here I am, visualizing angry looking security people with bulging muscles and rubber gloves coming at me. Instead, a grey haired woman and a young african american woman waved me over. I did get a pat down and they did go through my carry on and my purse with some tiny little electronic devices...but when it was all said and done, it wasn't anything like my rampant imagination had cooked up.
I go through the boarding gate, and head to the gate # I'd seen on my boarding pass when I did my preflight check in online. As I sat at my gate reading my book...I noticed they kept talking about a Canadian flight and a delay...blah, blah, blah. Finally, when it was nearly 4pm (flight was leaving at 4:10) I decided I'd better double check my boarding pass for the flight time, cuz no one was saying "let's board folks". OH MY GOD. The person that checks the boarding pass had crossed out the gate number with red pen and wrote a different gate number underneath. Did they tell me? NO.
So you can imagine the sprint I did in flip flops and a 200 lb carryon bag full of glass rods. I got to the gate only to see the entry tube slightly pulled away from my plane and not a soul in the waiting area. Luckily for me, the attendant came out of the tube into the waiting area and said, "who are you?" "Dana Graham" I replied. She said, "come on...we'll get you on board." Talk about a relief!!! Again, sitting down with my heart pounding...I let out a long sigh and buried myself in my book to forget my trauma.
I love adventure.
Dana :)
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
FUN STUFF!!!
Hi everyone! I just returned from a 5 day trip for a lampworking convention in Minneapolis, MN. I had a wonderful time, had some very exciting experiences and learned alot too. But I'll talk more about that later this week! Right now, I want to tell you about a fun game/giveaway being held by the wonderful Etsy street team I belong to known as the INcrowd. Starting tomorrow, August 1st, a large group of Indiana artists that belong to the INcrowd Etsy Street Team will be hiding a picture in their listings somewhere. If you are the one to locate the most hidden pictures, you win a free necklace donated by one of our wonderfully talented artists! So please go visit the link to the left for the INcrowd Blog for more details - the information will be posted tomorrow! Have fun!!! :)
Dana :)
Hi everyone! I just returned from a 5 day trip for a lampworking convention in Minneapolis, MN. I had a wonderful time, had some very exciting experiences and learned alot too. But I'll talk more about that later this week! Right now, I want to tell you about a fun game/giveaway being held by the wonderful Etsy street team I belong to known as the INcrowd. Starting tomorrow, August 1st, a large group of Indiana artists that belong to the INcrowd Etsy Street Team will be hiding a picture in their listings somewhere. If you are the one to locate the most hidden pictures, you win a free necklace donated by one of our wonderfully talented artists! So please go visit the link to the left for the INcrowd Blog for more details - the information will be posted tomorrow! Have fun!!! :)
Dana :)
Friday, July 20, 2007
Perfectly Imperfect
It's funny how time seasons you. I'm so thankful I know what I know now, and I'm sure there are so many more lessons ahead of me.
When I was younger, I felt very driven to be perfect. I was extremely self-critical, especially of my artwork...but on many other, deeper levels too. I'm sure many things contributed to this mindset. My abusive father and stepmother, the strict religious upbringing I was raised in, and my own desire to prove my worth...to prove that the words hurled at me in angry abandon were wrong. I needed to prove it to them, and to prove it to myself.
But time passes, wounds heal and scar over...and thank goodness if we are open to it, we find growth and change. I can find amusement in some of my silly perfectionism from younger years. For instance, one time I remember getting a new set of watercolor paints. I painted flowers all over a piece of watercolor paper. I hated them and tossed them in the trash. My middle sister objected, fished them out of the trash and kept them. About a year later, as I was visiting my mom and sisters, I went into my middle sisters room. She had the prettiest flowers cut out and sprinkled across her walls. I told her..."Oh, I love those! They are beautiful!" Her eyes flew wide open and her mouth dropped. She started laughing out loud at me. "Those are the ones you painted last year and threw away!" I couldn't believe it. I'd forgotten about them, and seeing them with fresh, unbiased eyes had completely changed my mind.
We are so often our own worst critics. I frequently get upset with myself and will cry myself to sleep when I've had a bad day with my kids. If I raise my voice or say something cross, I feel absolutely horrible and like the worst mom ever. But then I'll read about some truly horrible parent in the paper - someone who neglects or abuses a child...and I realize that I'm just imperfect, not horrible. Or I'll be in public and hear a parent say something harsh like I heard the other day, "Son, you have the smallest heart." (overhearing that comment absolutely BROKE my heart. How could you say that to a little boy???) Times like that remind me that I'm not perfect...but I'm careful...and I love my kids and they are happy children.
Other times, I'll make a mistake while torching...grab the wrong color of glass, or a design won't go the way I want it to. In the past, I'd have tossed my work away immediately...considering it ruined. But I've learned something along the way...PERFECTION IS OVERRATED! ;)
Sometimes the best ideas come from mistakes, sometimes the most beautiful art was a failed version of something else, and definitely the most beautiful people in my life are the most humbly imperfect ones.
So go out there and celebrate your perfect imperfection! I know I am!
Dana :)
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Coffee Hair and Sunshine...
When I create, I often find that my artistic time is also a time for reflection. Yesterday, as I sat twirling glass in the flame, I found my mind wandering back to my childhood. When my parents married, my great aunt and great grandmother gave them an acre of land in Indiana on which to build their home. My parent's land connected to their land...about 40 acres or so...and as a young child, I spent endless hours exploring the woods, meadows and creek surrounding our property.
I remember vividly sitting for hours on the sandy bank of the creek that wound it's way through my aunt's land. My coffee colored hair would get so warm from the sunlight as I would sit so very still, thinking about the world around me. After awhile, my stillness made the animals less wary, and I would watch them with quiet curiosity as they skittered around me. Birds, squirrels, chipmunks and even a raccoon and weasel graced my presence on those silent afternoons.
I remember listening to the sound of the water; singing stories of its journeys, and the sound of the wind soughing through the branches of the ancient trees. I'd glance up through the leaves and breathe in deeply as I watched the patterns of deep green leaves against blue sky. The world was a peaceful, gentle place on that sand bar...and I recollect a feeling of oneness with everything around me. I felt as though I were a part of the trees and they a part of me - both of us swaying together in the breeze and rooted in earth. Water surged inside my body and sang in harmony with the creek. The animals and I, we were old friends...brothers and sisters.
I marvel now to think that I was ever such a still child. I look at my own beautiful children...so full of energy and almost never still...and I wonder how it was that I sat for so long...content to just breathe in the beauty of nature. The beauty of life.
As I reminisced about my solitary moments, I realized how very important that stillness was to my inner strength...and how very important it remains. Our worlds, our lives, are so very busy. Always we rush from one obligation to another...and I can't help but feel we are missing it. As I thought about this, I realized that it's time for me, personally, to take back that stillness. To make the time to just breathe in life...to reconnect with this earth...to replenish the strength of my soul.
Dana :)
I remember vividly sitting for hours on the sandy bank of the creek that wound it's way through my aunt's land. My coffee colored hair would get so warm from the sunlight as I would sit so very still, thinking about the world around me. After awhile, my stillness made the animals less wary, and I would watch them with quiet curiosity as they skittered around me. Birds, squirrels, chipmunks and even a raccoon and weasel graced my presence on those silent afternoons.
I remember listening to the sound of the water; singing stories of its journeys, and the sound of the wind soughing through the branches of the ancient trees. I'd glance up through the leaves and breathe in deeply as I watched the patterns of deep green leaves against blue sky. The world was a peaceful, gentle place on that sand bar...and I recollect a feeling of oneness with everything around me. I felt as though I were a part of the trees and they a part of me - both of us swaying together in the breeze and rooted in earth. Water surged inside my body and sang in harmony with the creek. The animals and I, we were old friends...brothers and sisters.
I marvel now to think that I was ever such a still child. I look at my own beautiful children...so full of energy and almost never still...and I wonder how it was that I sat for so long...content to just breathe in the beauty of nature. The beauty of life.
As I reminisced about my solitary moments, I realized how very important that stillness was to my inner strength...and how very important it remains. Our worlds, our lives, are so very busy. Always we rush from one obligation to another...and I can't help but feel we are missing it. As I thought about this, I realized that it's time for me, personally, to take back that stillness. To make the time to just breathe in life...to reconnect with this earth...to replenish the strength of my soul.
Dana :)
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