Indigo!

Emerging

2012-01-29T22:59:00.000-06:00

This is my son ... nearly 19 years ago. This is the smile and laughter and light in his eyes that made me so proud to be his mom. What an amazing experience. What a frightening experience! Frightening because this life is developing its first impressions of everything in my care. I made some mistakes. But I also did some great things. And I saw great things in him ... then and now.

As the years went by and some of the mistakes went unnoticed or more mistakes were made in trying to make up for the previous ones, the laughter all but disappeared. It's been a personal heartache that the laughter changed, that the light in his eyes dimmed, and that he had to experience anything that got in the way of the amazing person God created to emerge into this world.

But I'm humbly changed and thankful and proud. On his own two feet, he is experiencing not just some hard things ... but recently some wonderful ones as well. I won't tell his story, but I will publicly say I am proud of him for following his heart.

And as I reflect on motherhood, it makes me reflect on godliness ... makes me want to be closer to God, closer to my children, and a better mother/daughter/friend/sister. I'm so horribly imperfect and a workaholic and sometimes consumed by just making it through the tough places. But I have my feet on the path. And that's a good place to be.

Toeholds and Saplings

2012-01-17T23:02:00.000-06:00

Toeholds and saplings ... small but determined holdings.

Sunday I felt a toehold in my soul and it was the sunshine of my day. Then Sunday night it seemed as if all was demolished. Like the day in the Secret Garden when we felled these trees and cleaned the branches. Before you knew it, the slender branches and trunks were lying in piles. The "destruction" was quick ... but it was a good thing.

They had been taken from areas where they were intruding, laid to the ground, stripped and sectioned ... ready to be used. These beautiful and bare branches just hours before reaching to the sky but draining the soil where the grew wild were now the building blocks of restoration and design.

They were put up, taken down, reworked, redesigned, and after all the prototypes were built and torn down, found their place in the project as the centerpiece of serenity adorned with art.

Tonight that sunshine moment started to peek through again. That toehold in my soul which was the first glimmer after months wasn't extinguished long. And even if it was torn down in repeated swaths of broken hearts around me, it is an opportunity to prepare the fallen ... to clean and make beautifully bare these new building blocks life created from the things that were growing where they were never meant to grow.

It's like beauty from ashes. Maybe my life will be a picture of this ... and end up in the centerpiece of a clever, efficient design bearing the artwork of many hands and bringing serenity to the future.

Shattered

2012-01-16T23:27:00.000-06:00

I love how when I was in England, people used the word "shattered" to describe being exhausted. Such a descriptive word!

Today, I am shattered ... but not without hope. I don't think I've ever had more happen in 24 hours EVER in my life. (Well, a couple things come close in extremes - but nothing in sheer amount combined with extremes!) I have to admit it makes me reach back into the ministry days and think that I must be doing something right to have this much chaos erupt. I don't know if that's solid thinking any more - I'd have to go study again - and right now, I'm too shattered.

I remember my grandmother's poem ... One Shattered Splinter. In the poem, she receives a gift from God (a crystal cup?) and because it wasn't what she wanted or expected, throws it down into shattered splinters. After realizing what she had done, she picked up a splinter and began to write. I'll have to find that and post it.

Photo from Havering Park in the Secret Garden with Imogen Heap, Clear Village and the Garden Angels.

Heartstrings

2012-01-13T21:00:00.000-06:00

My mind goes back to the "heartstrings" display at Living Arts in Tulsa. I wish I had a full view photo that did it justice! A series of suspended frames held these "heartstrings" where motion was initiated by tweets containing either "heart" or "love" (I can't remember which) where a brief opening appeared and then closed again.

I look over my life and see these myself responding to life as it unfolds ... sometimes subject to the whims around me, briefly opening and closing to the opportunities that come my way. I probably shouldn't look back too much. I wonder about the "what if" too much.

When my heartstrings are touched, I usually cry. Good, bad, inspiring, significant ... my heart is moved and tears come. And I do love that. But I wish I could just make sure it is all orchestrated well! Things move both slower and faster than I would like. I am at once impatient and dragging my feet!

I wonder if my role right now is just to yield to life, to open my heart, to breathe in the beauty around me. Moment by moment I can.

Coming up for air ...

2012-01-07T14:14:00.000-06:00

1-2-3 ... ready ... breathe! I'm never good about coming up for air in real life, but I'm going to make myself take a moment to do so. Thanks to social media and other mobile technology, my family should at least know I'm alive!

The work roller coaster is approaching the crest and I'm about to go on a wild ride for a few months. My eyes are crossing as my to-do lists are getting longer. And not always so sure I'm on top of the big changes in my personal life. *SIGH* I've even taken to writing lists on my windows with whiteboard markers.

All those creative endeavors I was so sure I would lean on for expression while changing course are mostly lying at the wayside ... writing, photography, music, paper making, useful DIY projects (like making my own laundry detergent and essential oil dryer sheets), even just basic scrapbooking (I have TUBS and TUBS of memorabilia I need to commemorate somehow) all just make me feel tired, and thus they lie undone.

Even now, as much as I feel like I should be writing something significant, I'm mostly doing this so I can uncross my eyes and come at my monster work project again with clearer vision. And yet, maybe that's my lesson.

I need to come up for air (and sleeping doesn't count)!

Silence and Apologies

2012-01-02T06:38:00.000-06:00

To my family whom I dearly love ... I apologize for my holiday silences. It will be better (soon, I hope). Thank you to those who have reached out to me - even if I haven't responded (yet).

Happy New Year (by definition)

2012-01-01T17:00:00.001-06:00

Here's hoping ... sigh ... the New Year hasn't seemed all bright and shiny or even festive yet.

This morning at church, a great emphasis was placed on the word "new" and the message was largely about fasting (before we launch into our 21 day fast - giving up something natural in pursuit of something supernatural). By the end of the service, the hole in my heart wasn't throbbing as bad as it was when I arrived.

By definition, "NEW" means "taking the place of one that came before." That would probably be an understatement this year. 2012 is new. It's taking the place of 2011. But there is much else that qualifies as "new." New relational status. New home. New family dynamic. New questions. New pursuits (or the lack thereof).

What I don't know is what exactly will take the place of "one that came before" in most anything in my life right now.

Holiday Spirit

2011-12-09T22:39:00.000-06:00

I'm trying! It just doesn't seem like the Christmas season yet ... so when I had an extra 15 minutes after errands while Miss M was at dance class, I went to Rhema to see the lights. Thankfully, my camera was in the trunk, so I played for a while. I even tried to create a makeshift bokeh frame out of my drink cover. Have you ever tried to purposely rip a heart shape into plastic? Not easy! I'll have to go back with a better creation.

In the meantime, I have been thinking about symbolic things ... anything to give a frame to my thoughts or feelings or place in life. Tonight it's the unfocused but "new focused" interest that can be found by looking beyond the space between me and my environment.

There's more to a scene than what I can see in front of me.
There's more to my environment than what I can focus on.
There's more to my life than what I can carve out of my own efforts.
Somehow ... I want to get my focus off of me, off of the things around me, and set it so far past it all that a new picture appears ...
Something new, different, patterned with possibility, intersecting with inspiration, hinting toward a horizon ripe for discovery.

Maybe this will be my bokeh holiday ... looking past, focusing beyond myself, and finding new beauty.

Glances

2011-12-06T21:50:00.000-06:00

I glance her way and get a glimpse of dimensional time. I absorb a present moment different than I've known before. I see a flash of her future and a flashback of my past. I see her beauty and wonder how I missed the the time that turned her into a young woman.

One Moment Danced ...

2011-12-05T21:55:00.000-06:00

My little one is growing up. She's becoming a young lady and a beautiful performer. I may need to do a series of photos just from her years in the Nutcracker!

And I do want to gripe just a bit. I brought my camera to the performance hoping I'd hear those magic words: "No flash photography." And I did! Those words are my magic because I do NOT use flash (and truly hate it when all cameras are penalized because of those who). So when I hear that, it's equal to saying, "Go ahead! Take all the photos you want as long as you don't use flash."

There was one lady evidently with the production (she had a name tag, but I couldn't read the name) who REALLY DID NOT LIKE ME taking those photos. But far beyond me, she made quite the scene ... kept turning around, glaring, and giving very loud "SHHHH"s and even imitating me by saying something ... I heard "CLICK! CLICK! CLICK!" being uttered between other loud whispers I tried to ignore. It's one thing when a camera makes a natural noise, and completely another when a human imitates, shushes, stares, glares, and turns around constantly.

I'm guessing it's people like her who are behind all the "NO _____" rules. I would like to say that I am also not obtrusive like some can be (and I've heard used as a reason why cameras aren't allowed) ... I just sit in my seat and capture what I can. Why? Because of the above. This is how I experience these things best - behind a lens, making memories for my loved ones and me to share.

Laughter

2011-11-24T22:56:00.000-06:00

Always a welcome sound ... laughter was a big part of a rousing game of horseshoes with Uncle James at grandma and grandpa's house in Kansas. (And even though I couldn't capture the action clearly, I still love this photo!)

Winds 'n Roses

2011-11-03T20:05:00.002-05:00

(Oops! I edited and published something quite old and thought it would retain the original date. Oh well!)

Exhausted, I lie here sleepless, listening to the wind. My thoughts drift and swirl like the sounds dancing outside my window. They say a storm is coming. Knowing this makes the wind sound different. I listen a little closer. I hear a threat and a howl. I wonder what will happen ... if we will be prepared, protected.

But as I contemplate, I remember that wind is what one waits for when wanting to fly a kite. I remember that wind carries seeds to perpetuate new growth. I remember that sails were meant to catch the wind and propel a vessel.

So I wonder in a metaphor of life ... what am I holding to the wind? I realize that I feel fragile. What I hold is more like a flower than something destined for flight. I think maybe I have wrapped my wings around myself and they have become soft like petals. I imagine myself as a flower in the wind. And I worry that the delicate layers will be quickly stripped and my hopes now folded and soft will have been dashed.

I write and let the wondering thoughts wash over me ... Silly me. I know that just as it would make no sense to display a boquet in a windstorm, it also makes no sense to try and fly a kite indoors. Both will result in some kind of destruction! There's a time and place for everything.

Nurture the fragile. Launch the bold.

Turning Entanglement To Art

2011-11-02T07:46:00.000-05:00

Sometimes life is bland and flat ... other times it's a tangled mess ... it can be a party ... or it can be the residue from others that is left for me to clean up. It can look like nothing or an intricate maze. What makes life beautiful? Perspective.

Maybe my life is all tangled.
Maybe the bright splashes are to be celebrated instead of figured out.
Maybe daily life is a slab of ordinary underneath everything.
But it could be that if I look closer, maybe it's art.

I'm considering adopting a new motto: Never untangle ... find the beauty.

Howl

2011-10-29T09:24:00.000-05:00

And so she performs ... the "wolf" performing to Howl (by Florence + the Machine). She loved the drama of this dance! It was a tough competition this year (the younger girls didn't place) but it's only the first. Here we go!

Black Light Special

2011-10-22T19:15:00.000-05:00

As we stood in line waiting for our turn on the Rockin' Rollercoaster, we heard the announcement, "This ride DOES go upside down." M's head whipped around toward me and her eyes were HUGE! I had just told her that I didn't think it went upside down - at least I didn't remember that it did. It was the one thing that would have prevented her from going. She did NOT want to go upside down!

I couldn't help but laugh and asked what she wanted to do. She was torn. The event had been built so high in her mind that she didn't want to NOT go. And she kept commenting about how her brother would be proud of her if she rode it.

And so we rode ... 3 times!

Screams and laughter were part every round. She was positively glowing (and not just from the black lights in the ride)! I'm glad my memory failed me. It helped Miss M become a coaster lover! Now THAT'S special.

Cake and Laughter

2011-10-19T17:00:00.000-05:00

Turning 12 while waiting for a Disney adventure had highlights of its own. From finding a cake and candles to forgetting matches ... and having hotel staff offer to sing but finding instead when we returned a lobby FULL of business men ... we found plenty of moments to laugh.

The Imogen Adventure Continues

2011-10-19T12:09:00.000-05:00

I was finally able to download everything ... and I'm 3 of 3 for artwork submissions in the "heapsong" series! The image used on the "thank you" page is one of the walled garden gates. And I get to be mentioned in the credits both as a Garden Angel and as a photographer this time!

Immi's Hands

2011-10-08T22:18:00.000-05:00

I've seen these hands from afar ... creating music, expressing joy, punctuating emotion on a stage or a video blog. But the first time I saw these hands up close, they eclipsed the expected handshake and embraced me with a warm hug accompanied by a double-cheeked kiss. That day, I watched the same hands serve others cups of soup and wrangle tools that broke ground in the walled kitchen garden. Throughout the week, I watched these hands work and welcome day after day ... Gentle, strong, elegant and expressive ... just like her.

The humanity behind Imogen Heap's hands marked me. Seeing her humble service, personal inspirations, intimate affections, and joyful explorations made her feel much more like a real life person (which, of course, she is). And maybe more astonishingly, made me feel more like a friend than a fan.

So when Imogen began to play after hours at the celebration party in her home, it was more than "just" music. It was far more than a moment to savor in the presence of someone famous and amazing. It was life unfolding unscripted, resting and cradled ... all of us together ... all of us basking in the wash of words and moments and music shared earlier ... all of us with these meditative tones to brush through our souls. The beauty of simply being with one another was profoundly woven in melody.

I now see how people can so easily call her "Immi" ... and it now seems so formal to call her anything else. Immi's hands ... yet another inspiration.

The Stairs And I

2011-10-06T12:43:00.028-05:00

I don't know why I didn't think about this before I acted on my desire to see a castle ... they don't have non-scary steps! So in addition to my big accomplishments of walking and hiking all over creation and not dying, I also climbed TWO sets of these (there are two separate towers people can climb)!

The first one (above) took me a few times of starting/stopping/readjusting bags before I actually did it. I held my breath, then told myself to breathe, and then would force myself to slowly breathe as I put each foot on a disappearing, skinny step. There's only room for one on these! Ignore the butterflies. Think about things other than falling. And voila! Suddenly, you're on top! There's only one downfall after the beautiful vistas ... you have to go back down.

But as you can see, I didn't die. In fact, I'm uploading lots of photos to Flickr right now for others to enjoy! I won't have time to upload them all right away (it's almost midnight here - and I have limited internet), but when they're done, you can find them here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/indigobleue/sets/72157627716733407/

Flowers to Flowers and Dust to Dusk

2011-10-05T22:43:00.026-05:00

This is how my day started (in Lewes) and ended (in London) ... with a whole bunch of things in between!

Really, I wanted to write a poem, but can't seem to get the gears started. I keep thinking about a phrase Imogen Heap used when talking about the song she is working on in conjunction with the garden project:

The piece I want to write is from the voice of the Walled Garden itself. A spoken word piece or perhaps a kind of collective voice for neglected spaces and abandoned man made structures. Being in the garden, I hear it almost sigh in relief with the news of this fresh enthusiasm. As if it's been calling out to anyone who might catch it from dust, to fall in love with it again. As those of you involved breathe a new life into the garden, community and beyond, it becomes clearer to me what it's been missing all these years and between spurts of getting my hands dirty, I'll be penning these thoughts.

And truly, the "dust" moment with the gravestone pictured above was part of a much bigger moment that I need to share ... but I'll need to revisit it and get more coherent thoughts on it.

White Cliffs to Brown Rooftops

2011-10-04T18:37:00.006-05:00

Just have to share before I go to bed ... the sprawling view I had yesterday was from that white spot in the circle. I am proud to say I have walked every distance in England other than trains and the cabs from the hotel to the garden. And today? I'm extra proud as it involved my luggage from that circle area (literally down below the cliffs) coming all the way to my little nook in the sky.

White Cliffs of Lewes

2011-10-03T15:54:00.001-05:00

Partway up the hike to the top of the white cliffs ... AWESOME view. Once we got up there, it was pastureland as far as we could see. I couldn't even see the river or road from where we were. Just green, green, green rolling hills (and cows ... and sheep)! There's a little tiny dot of a castle over in the right hand side of the picture (ok where it would be if I could see it). That's where I'll be staying near for my last night in Lewes before returning for the launch party with Imogen Heap and Clear Village on Saturday.

2011-09-30T12:15:00.000-05:00

Lingering lunches.
Random wafts of conversation.
Streams of light in an English tea room.
Fresh air and motorists.
These little moments may seem pedestrian but that's the beauty of it to me.
Today I will discover a bit more of what it is like to simply "be" in Gidea Park (Romford).

2011-09-28T14:00:00.000-05:00

I wish you were here.
There's a low rumble of the organ;
The hum of tourists off in the distance.
Here, I am nestled in a corner of the prayer chapel at St. Paul's Cathedral ...
Feeling the cold stone pillar on one side
And warm wood to the other,
I'm cushioned in a respectful silence.
It is peaceful here.

Celebrations

2011-09-27T20:35:00.000-05:00

Gentle spirits. Vibrant spirits. Generous spirits. When they all combine, I have to say that the celebrations are sweet! Truly, my life doesn't hold enough of these. I'm used to the work side of life, but I'm not used to doing much more than coming up for air until the end of a project.

Thinking through the few number of days we spent together, it's surprising how much room there was for celebrations with each other. We worked hard. We had tea. We celebrated our project, each other and even birthdays. No one was a taskmaster. We breathed, laughed, shared, collaborated, overcame, and built together.

I could go on and on about the people involved ... and I find it hard to accurately express what my heart has felt ... but it was quite amazing to me. The pace, the productivity, the peace, the people. To see it culminate together and be part of it all is a rather overwhelming honor.

This is part of what I need to bring back with me when I go home.