Skip to content

Archive for April, 2009

Kelly: The Magic of Childhood, Part II

livvie-bw1We hit a major milestone this weekend. We officially have big-girl bikers! We haven’t hit the pavement yet, but they are running laps around the backyard with ease. I guess that’s one benefit to having hard-packed river sand and scrub covering the majority of your backyard. I’m very disappointed to admit I missed “the moment.” Since I’ve been doing the Riverside Arts Market every Saturday, DH has had more time with the girls and has been practicing with them, and while I was sitting in my booth about 2pm Saturday afternoon, they were riding laps around the backyard unassisted for the first time. DH called to tell me. When I got home, they demonstrated for me so I could take pictures. Olivia, being the camera ham she is, was content to ride at least a dozen laps so I could get more and more pictures. Sarah chose to only do two laps and determined that with her glowing natural beauty, that should be sufficient to capture a stunning photo. She then put her skirt back on and pulled her ladybug chair over next to mine to watch Livvie ride.

I couldn’t resist aging these pictures. Watching the girls brought back memories of me learning to ride my bike and the series of black and white pictures my dad took of me. We lived in a big apartment complex in Miami at the time.  My mom worked full time as a nurse while my dad worked odd jobs and went to school.  We didn’t have much money, but I do have many good memories of that time. That’s when my dad and I grew up together. It’s funny how pictures do that for you.  A memory can be lost to time, only to resurface in perfect focus when an old picture crops up to remind you. My bike was bright blue with a white seat and red, white and blue streamers coming off the handlebars. After I outgrew that bike, I got the classic “banana seat” bike, appropriately yellow. Until my parents divorced, I spent nearly a month every summer in Orange Park with my Nana and Granddaddy, and that yellow banana seat bike took me everywhere.

sarah-bwMost of the kids in Nana’s neighborhood were boys, so the tomboy in me grew to full fruition in those days. There was a big hill near Nana’s house and we’d fly down that hill with all we had, always with one of the gang at the bottom of the hill watching for cars. If no cars were coming, that’s when we knew we could safely keep on flying, past Maria’s house, right over Capella Lane and on down to the dead end at the bottom of the hill. There was more than one occasion early on when I got the warning that a car was coming and hit my brakes in a panic, tumbling head over butt in an endo (though apparently not much has changed since I’ve been known to do that on my mountain bike these days as well). That bike took me to the creek back behind Nana’s house and down to the end of the neighborhood to the swimming hole back in the woods…forbidden territory that Nana knew nothing about (or so I thought). I’ll drive back through that neighborhood every now and then when I’m in Orange Park, and the memories of those days are so clear I can still feel the cold water of the swimming hole. I see us all…me, Ricky, Gary, Eddie, Ted, and every once in a while Maria and Sheila…climbing up that oak tree and jumping off its branches into the center of the hole, never worried about what might lie beneath, what might lie beyond, or what might face us the next day. That was childhood at its best. No worries, just fun. What’s your favorite childhood memory?

4/29 Weekly Creativity Challenge and New Prompt

Only two entries for our April Showers prompt, and with them comes a welcome back and a congrats to this week’s winner Dale Meister for her lovely necklace, pictured below.  Dale writes: “I have created a necklace inspired by the ‘april showers’ prompt.  I know this isn’t exactly the usual media you get at your blog. I hope this is okay. This is my second time participating, after following the ‘little black dress’ prompt a while back.”  And we’re happy to have any media Dale! 

dale


From me (Kelly): a photo entitled “Marion County Roadside”.  I took this shot last year about this time on the way home from a meeting in Tampa.  I’ve always wavered back and forth between wanting to live my life on the river and wanting to live my life on a horse farm in Ocala.  Some of the most beautiful property in all of Florida is along U.S. 301/441 in Marion County horse country.  I loved how this view captured the rain on the left and the sun on the right at the same time. 

 marion-co-roadside-blog


This week’s prompt: “May flowers” (did you see that one coming?)
Use the prompt however you like – literally, or a tangential theme. All media are welcome. Please e-mail your entries to creativereality@live.com by 10:00 p.m. eastern time (GMT -5) on Tuesday, May 5, 2009.  Writers should include their submission directly in the body text of their e-mail. Visual artists and photographers should attach an image of their work as a jpeg. Enter as often as you like; multiple submissions for a single prompt are welcome. There is no limit to how many times you can win the weekly challenge, either. (You do not have to be a contributor to this blog in order to enter. All are invited to participate.) All submissions are acknowledged when received; if you do not receive e-mail confirmation of receipt within 24 hours, please post a comment here. Remember, the point is to stimulate your output, not to create a masterpiece. Keep the bar low and see what happens. Dusting off work you created previously is OK too. For more info, read the original contest blog post.

Cathy: And now for something completely different

I’ve been so wrapped up in the idea that I need to finish my manuscript, that the feeling has resulted in much the same as shooting one’s self in the foot, can’t win for trying, or a hundred other clichés. So when I saw the opportunity from Elizabeth Beck to be a part of Do Not Leave Unattended! by Judy Beckett of run4istrun.blogspot.com, I jumped at it.

It reminded me of last spring to summer when I discovered Kerri Smith’s Wreck this Journal. I was so stuck, I hadn’t worked on the manuscript since about three to four years prior, even though it had never left my mind. I had let life get in the way of art, and I needed to find a way back. I discovered the way back to art through Wreck. It has everything to do with being able to be free about it, make it messy, have fun with it and play. Because of that little tome and my use of it, I was able to return to the manuscript with a renewed sense of fun and inspiration about it. It didn’t matter if I made it work, what mattered was that I was writing about kids and what they go through in sixth grade, and that even if some of it is hard, it’s also fun to be a kid, have a family who loves you, even when they’re a pain, have friends who stick by you, even if you’re not exactly sure why, and that no matter who you are, you can do something great, maybe even change the world a little.

So, now that I really am right at the end of the ‘first’ draft (which has already been through practically word-by-word edits), like two to three scenes from the end, I find myself trying to make it work, or avoiding doing so, or whatever so that I won’t finish. I took a moment to breath, to get messy, to create something completely different and let it go out into the universe, especially not perfect. Here is the result:springjournal2

springjournal

I wanted to feel like a kid, so I played with markers, I wanted the sense of youth and fun and something new and had been thinking a lot about spring because it’s spring. On my dog walks and in my gardening, I’ve been noticing lots of itty bitty wildflowers, like confetti all over my lawn and around the public areas in my subdivision. I thought about them being fairy footprints left behind after a night of dancing. I wrote a haiku. Then I free wrote in the journal about spring, how it’s about change and new and color…

So it looks like a kid did it, and I’m glad. I needed to feel more like a kid to finish writing about one. And I put a lot more productive hours into my manuscript the week i did this page. Letting go and playing in creativity really can set you free.

Who wants to be next?

Kelly: The Magic of Childhood

fairiesCall it magic, call it make believe, call it what you want…I’m just so glad it’s there. The Easter Bunny paid a little visit to our house Sunday before we headed down to the lake. The Easter Bunny’s assistant let Easter sneak up on her, so at 7:30 pm Saturday after dinner at Chowder Ted’s, she had to run to Walgreen’s and pick through the last of the available Easter candy. Since there were slim pickin’s (luckily she had a few things left over from what she bought to bring to school for their party), the Easter Bunny’s assistant had a great idea and enlisted the help of our neighborhood fairies.

fairy-doorsSee, we have fairies living in our house. They come in and out through these lovely little doors that appeared one morning. Occasionally the fairies leave us little gifts, and the girls leave them something in return. For Easter, the fairies got together with the Easter Bunny to create these lovely little pendants. They were sitting next to the girls’ Easter basket’s Easter morning, which the Easter Bunny had conveniently left right outside the fairies’ door downstairs near my workshop (those are the artist fairies; the musician fairies live upstairs under the piano). I’ve been bombarded by questions and suggestions from the girls as to just how exactly the fairies made these pendants.

Girls: “Mama, our fairies are so small! How did they pick up the glass?”

Mama: “Well, the Easter Bunny’s got to be pretty big to carry around the baskets. He must have helped them.”

Girls: “Yeah! I bet that’s what they did. They must have flown up to your workbench and used your supplies!”

Mama: “Well, yes, I did notice that my workbench was pretty messy when I came down here this morning. I think I even saw some fairy dust! These must be extra special necklaces…”

Girls: “Yes, ma’am. We’ll have to draw them a picture to thank them.”

The magic of believing is a wonderful thing. They’ve worn these necklaces every day since. Maybe the big girls can learn a lesson from the fairies and the little girls who believe in them.

Open House

This installment of the Open House brings self-assessment and emergency care; says goodbye to the old and anticipates the new; and throws in a dash of brotherly love. So grab your preferred cup of joe, or bob or serena (my name for herbal tea) and read about Jacqui, Alana, Suzanne,Tracy, Elizabeth, Johanna, Liz, Jen, and Brittany. Enjoy!

  1. Jacqui Robbins flirts with new ideas while working on her current project (I can relate to that!).
  2. Alana Kirk Gillham waves goodbye beautifully in tribute to her family’s home on the way to a new one.
  3. Suzanne Kamata considers what she loves about being a mother after being tagged. (Why do we so often wait until someone else notices us being a good mom to look at how well we are doing?)
  4. Elizabeth Beck had an ER visit, and gave an anatomy lesson.
  5. Johanna Rupp shares a meeting of herself through May Sarton and views of her garden (which is much farther along than mine is so far this year!)
  6. Liz Hum throws tarot cards to check in with herself.
  7. Jen Johnson discovers she should not Frisbee the toys across her living room when she already has frustration adrenaline pumping, with a serious consequence.
  8. Brittany Vandeputte watches her two young boys play and is justified in her decision to have them close together: no, she was not smoking crack after all.

Kristine: Hope

As I’ve been working on my novel rewrite, I’m paying a lot of attention to theme. In doing so, I’ve been trying to pinpoint not only what my story is about on a deeper level but also what I believe a reader will be looking for when he/she picks up my book if and when it gets published. Coming up with that answer means looking at human nature. What do people want right now?

What I’ve found so far? People are looking for HOPE. A glimmer of light at the end of what has been a long and dark tunnel for far too long.

Even though my story deals with a traumatic event (the violent death of teenage girl), as I approach the ending, I’m finding that my story is not just about catching the bad guy. It sends a strong message (at least I hope it does) about achieving inner peace. What I want the reader to feel after reading my book is that even though bad things happen to all of us, some of them so bad we think we will never recover from them, there is always an opportunity to find redemption. It may not come in the way we want, but it will come. We just need to keep the faith.

It is very important to me to end this story on a positive note.  With all the bad news being thrown at us on a daily basis about the economy and state of the world, I think we all need a little bit of positive reassurance that life is still good. We can all get through whatever life throws at us if we stick together.
When I first started out writing, I was a hard-core fiction writer. I’ve dabbed in everything from amateur sleuth cozies to serial killer thrillers. I’ve written scenes so gory they gave me nightmares. I’ve read them in books, too. The more chills, the better.

Now, not so much. My reading tastes have changed dramatically lately. I want lighter, more meaningful stories. Not necessarily all-happy endings, but endings that leave me feeling, yes, hopeful.

There is a lot I can’t control in this world, and even though I’d love to do it, I can’t change the turmoil and uncertainty we all feel right now. But what I can do is entertain in a way that brings some light to someone who may be seeing nothing but darkness ahead. That is my mission and what I hope to accomplish in writing this book.

So I ask you, what do you look for when you open a book?

4/22 Weekly Creativity Challenge and New Prompt

I was breathless with anticipation (sorry, couldn’t resist) to see this week’s challenge entries. Congrats go out to Nina Newton for her lovely poem. Welcome back, Nina!

Breathless

I don’t know if
            Breathless
Is a good thing or
            A bad thing
While rushing here
            And there
Late for work or
            Picking up the kids . . . .
I’m breathless.

Late at night I worry
            about money, family, time, work
And all day long I worry
            about money, family, time, work
Always searching for a place
            of peace and tranquility
Where life is simply slower,
            and in my quest for tranquility
I’m breathless.

But then I wake and see
            the face of my sleeping child
Or the reflection of the rising sun
            on the placid lake
And gaze into the loving eyes
            of the man who sleeps beside me
I silently pray that this will be
            forever our sacred place . . . .
I’m breathless -

At the wonder of life,
           the heartache and the moments
Of amazing, joyous, miraculous love
           and there I choose to stay
Remembering every breath and every touch,
          the gift of love, family, and life . . . .
I seek this place of peace while enduring the
          pain of brokenness that sometimes makes me
Breathless.


From Cathy Coley:

Magnolia

Tough cutting through the thicket of
Bermuda and Centipede grass tangles
that have invaded my lawn.
I switch shovels from the
square blade to the pointed,
point the tip in, stand on the back edge
and wiggle the tall handle side to side.
Strange pogo stick
slowly breaks the blade’s passage through
illegitimate immigrants taking over my lawn
of fescu and Kentucky blue
having not the strength
I must use my weight for leverage.

Clumps eventually separate,
I grab with both hands and pull
with all my might to break
the last stubborn runners and roots.
I turn the lawn and weed clumps roots up
earth brown, delicate, vulnerable in the sun
Surround the beginnings of the hole
Create a ring of clay with wispy tendrils.
The hole widens, rounds, reveals
the new home for the magnolia.

Switch shovels back to square,
which scoops the loose wads of clay
left from my struggle.
Pile to one side within the ring.
Step, hop out, stand back to survey,
Straighten my bad back briefly.
Remove a glove, the sweatshirt,
readjust my bra,
squint into the sun
before moving on.

Glove back on, sweatshirt tied
around my waist,
I grab hold of the tree by its base,
turn it on its side.
Give the thin plastic pot
a few punishing kicks and swats
before yanking it from the root ball
of my new tree.

She’s heavier than I thought,
but I can handle her.
Roll her in, stand her up, thump her in.
Forego the shovels,
spread by hand the looser dirt
before flipping the clumps of lawn,
place strategically around the young trunk
puzzling them back into place
where place has changed.

I straighten up, stand back,
survey if she stands straight.
Straight enough is good enough for me.
Breathless, squinting
I see the first pink to white buds
readying to bloom.
They look unsure,
but change is good.


From me (Kelly): I captured this shot Sunday evening, and it was the actual capturing of it that made me “breathless”.  I’ll have more details on my blog today. 

beholder


This week’s prompt: “April showers”
Use the prompt however you like – literally, or a tangential theme. All media are welcome. Please e-mail your entries to creativereality@live.com by 10:00 p.m. eastern time (GMT -5) on Tuesday, April 28, 2009.  Writers should include their submission directly in the body text of their e-mail. Visual artists and photographers should attach an image of their work as a jpeg. Enter as often as you like; multiple submissions for a single prompt are welcome. There is no limit to how many times you can win the weekly challenge, either. (You do not have to be a contributor to this blog in order to enter. All are invited to participate.) All submissions are acknowledged when received; if you do not receive e-mail confirmation of receipt within 24 hours, please post a comment here. Remember, the point is to stimulate your output, not to create a masterpiece. Keep the bar low and see what happens. Dusting off work you created previously is OK too. For more info, read the original contest blog post.

Cathy: Spring Break in Writing

The boys’ spring break sucked any incentive to write in my manuscript right out of me. I figured my state of constant interruption would increase ten-fold, and I was right. Anytime I sat at the computer, Baby C started ripping books apart or K engaged me in pestered conversations that went something like this:

“Mom. (brief pause) Mom. Mom. Can I use the computer. Mom, can I use the computer. Mom, Can I. Uuuuse. The. Computer.”

“K, can you see I just sat down and am using it while nursing your sister to sleep? Please let me have a moment. You can use it later.”

“Mom.”

“Let me read.”

“Mom. (pause) Mom. Mom. Mom.”

“WHaat?!”

“If I can’t use the computer, can I go see if K2 and K3 are home and can hang out?”

“Mmm…” (still trying to read, nurse C to nap and tune him out)

“Mom. Can I see if K2 and K3 can hang out? Mom!”

“Ok, but walk Lucy first.”

“AAAhhhh!”

Dog tags jingle, claws click and scrape floor, the screen door ff-ths open and closes with a bang.

Then it’s S’s turn, just when I think I may have brokered some peace from the pestering.

“MOOMM! CAN (have I mentioned he has a problem with volume control?) I USE THE COMPUTER TO WRITE MY PIRATE PLAY/LOOK UP TITANASAURUS AND BARAGON SO I CAN RESEARCH FOR THE MONSTERS IN THE MOVIE I’M MAKING IN THE GARAGE AND…”

Baby C pops off, turns to see the source of the racket, and there goes any kind of nap as she has just become interested in anything, particularly S, besides napping. I yell at S “Can you see I’m trying to get C to sleep here? You can use the computer when I’m done and she’s asleep, now please go find something else to do QUIETLY while I try to get her to nap.” After some begging and plenty of the cute face, he eventually ran off under threat of no computer ever again in his life.

We had some fun, too, especially the day we bowled and my mother-in-law kept picking up the ball with the wrong size finger holes, so it would fly backwards off her hand — a real hoot! And the bumpers were up, so what would have been gutters galore, ended up being advantageous, as the boys figured out how to make the bumpers work for them toward strikes.

So this week, as the boys head back to school on Tuesday, I will get back in the rhythm and actually type in those parts I longhand wrote a week and two ago, and fill in researched parts. I also have decided I need another name change for that character I’ve already renamed, as well as changing another name, which in effect changes two character names for a total of three. Snaggly little annoying details as I run the first read through of the completed plotline. Phew, almost there, really. Think I can finish before April ends? It’s only my third projected finish line.

Cathy: Blog Mom Award

awardBrittany Vandeputte bestowed an honor upon me at her personal blog. She has nominated me for the Mom of the Year Award.

Here are the rules:
First, admit one thing you feel awful about involving being a mom. Get it off your shoulders. Once you’ve written it down, you are no longer allowed to feel bad. It’s over with, it’s in the past. Remember, you’re a good mom!

Why was my first inclination one of guilt when I saw it? Because earlier the same morning I made the discovery on her blog, I was internally lamenting how I am so torn between my children and my writing and its (my) need for peace and quiet. This is an oft visited topic on Creative Construction, by all of us who contribute. I was thinking I spend a lot of time in front of my computer telling my kids to or wishing my kids would go do something else besides try to interact with me, whatever their purpose in doing so is. I wish I played more board games, did more crafts, etc with them. I even promised K I would take him out for sushi during Spring Break for some one-on-one, which I feel we desperately need, but didn’t ‘get around to it’ until Monday after Easter, the very last day of break. I even commented on Miranda’s post about her art closet that I look forward to the day that K goes to college so there may be a wee bit less chaos and crowd around me as C enters kindergarten at the same time. I may actually have more time and space to myself. I also wish I generally showed more patience for S.

Okay, now that’s off my chest, I’m sure I’ll revisit the paradox plenty more, but will do my best not to beat myself up about it.

Rule #2: Then, remind yourself you are a good mom, list seven things you love about your kids, you love doing with your kids, or that your kids love about you. These are the things to remind yourself everyday that you rock!

1. My kids love that I bake cookies, cakes, treats and always eat ice cream with them often.
2. I don’t totally get on their cases about the post-apocalyptic disaster zones that are their rooms, except about twice a year. It’s my tiny nod to their free expression.
3. I encourage them in their creativity without hovering: K is writing novels that he knows I would hate all the violence therein, and S draws comics and makes short films based on the Godzilla franchise. I may roll my eyes, but I never tell them they can’t do it their way. And C loves placing abc blocks in her stacking cups to rattle them and prefers to sit on open books like a cat than actually read them.
4. I cuddle Baby C nearly constantly and play, read, tickle, etc her above all else.
5. I am mesmerized by what goes on in each of their heads, how they express it, and what developmental stage they’re in: teen, asperger pre-teen and new toddler.
6. I do my best to ensure that S’s special needs are met to the best ability of the school district. I am the PIA mom.
7. I revel in activities with them: flying kites, breaking waves, going out for a treat or dinner, hiking, taking them to movies, renting for family movie night, going to the zoo, aquarium, visiting relatives, any kind of adventure we can think of.

Finally, I am supposed to link 5 other mothers across the Blog-o-sphere, to nominate them for this award.

First and foremost:

  1. Miranda Hersey Helin here at Creative Construction for getting the shebang rolling while tending to five kids and running her own editing business, and moving, and this blog.
  2. Bethany Hiitola, for her courageous and witty balancing act.
  3. Mary Duquette, for her consistent honesty in plumbing the depths.
  4. Jen Johnson, for her magical jewelry, and sparkling stories of daily life with children.
  5. Elizabeth Beck who has the happiest and most colorful blog on the net.
  6. Liz Hum’s music and book reviews, rants on current hot topics, and funky blogs on family life at .

And there are many more I would like to nominate, but Brittany has already or I’ve seen them nominate before, or I ran out of the five spaces, but I must nominate one more (I was never good at following rules):

Lisa Leonard has recently revamped and moved her blog to a new address. Her photography and jewelry are beautiful as is her sense of peace about the challenges of motherhood with special needs. She never makes the big deal out of it that too often I do.

Thank you, Brittany! I am grateful you recognize a good mom in me, and made me look at ways that I do a decent job of it, as well as the opportunity to give props to other good moms in the blogosphere. Of which, of course, you are one!

4/15 Weekly Creativity Challenge Winner and New Prompt

Can you smell the fresh air and green grass of the farm? Three submissions this week, with the winner being Cathy Coley for her poem that I think all mothers can easily relate to.   Congrats Cathy!


I farm out tasks,
unsuccessfully.
The kids ignore,
the husband groans.

Would it be different
if we lived on a farm?
Would the chores be done
Simply because
The cow will moan
The rooster crow
The hens cluck
And the fields
Grow wild, inedible.

If they had to get it themselves,
Would they eat besides sugar
Would they pick the sun hot
Tomatoes, carrots, wash them
And eat?

Or would they wither
Away to bones
Naked
no laundry done
Because I’ve mastermind
my escape?


From Karen Winters, a beautiful painting titled “Peacefull Valley Farm”: California’s rich farmland is disappearing as open spaces once filled by family farms are bought up and developed. In places fruit groves are seen dying, unattended, and signs are posted announcing that new homes are coming. The burst of the real estate bubble will probably change that, but the farms won’t likely return. Still, in California’s great central valley there are fields as far as the eye can see. It’s no wonder that California has often been called the Salad Bowl of America.

california-farm-painting-b


From Kelly Warren, a photo titled “Family Reunion”: On my late February jaunt to photograph my Harvey Collection series, I also came across a field of very friendly cows. When I pulled over to the side of the road near their pasture, they all immediately headed straight over to check me out, hoping for a nibble, I’m sure. But when I started photographing them, their true model side came out and they all garnered for front and center camera space. They were quite fun to talk to!

family-reunion


This week’s prompt: “Breathless”
Use the prompt however you like – literally, or a tangential theme. All media are welcome. Please e-mail your entries to creativereality@live.com by 10:00 p.m. eastern time (GMT -5) on Tuesday, April 21, 2009.  Writers should include their submission directly in the body text of their e-mail. Visual artists and photographers should attach an image of their work as a jpeg. Enter as often as you like; multiple submissions for a single prompt are welcome. There is no limit to how many times you can win the weekly challenge, either. (You do not have to be a contributor to this blog in order to enter. All are invited to participate.) All submissions are acknowledged when received; if you do not receive e-mail confirmation of receipt within 24 hours, please post a comment here. Remember, the point is to stimulate your output, not to create a masterpiece. Keep the bar low and see what happens. Dusting off work you created previously is OK too. For more info, read the original contest blog post.

Weekly Creativity Challenge Reminder

Have you been having thoughts about escaping to a farm, funny or otherwise?  Send them in!

Miranda: Sometimes staying in the closet is a good thing

art_closetWe moved into our new house just over two months ago. Many weeks after I had everyone else settled and box-free, I was still at a loss when it came to organizing my creative supplies. My home office — the library — was the last room I dealt with. Today the boxes are all gone, and the books are all on the shelves, but they aren’t organized and the shelf fronts are littered with little “things” that haven’t yet found a home. The space is workable, but not complete. I’m still not sure what to do with a lot of those little things. (Which probably means I should throw them away.)

While I managed to get the library in a habitable condition, I still couldn’t figure out what to do with my art supplies. I’d earmarked the front hall closet — convenient to the library — for my art stuff, but I had many many bins and boxes of supplies — far more than would fit into that closet space. This week I finally brought all those boxes and bins down from the attic, and sorted out the space. Well, I should clarify.

On Thursday, when I’d finished all the pressing client work for the day and had another hour of babysitting to put to use, I decided that THAT would be a great time to get the art closet sorted out. So I ran up and down the stairs, lugging everything downstairs from the attic. I took many things out, filling the hallway with my bits and pieces. I made a big ol’ mess. But then I got stuck.

I was well and truly stuck (Fireman Sam, anyone?), and the timing was terrible. I really should have been preparing for my four-year-old’s birthday party — somehow I’d managed to invite nearly a dozen pre-schoolers to the house for Batman festivities on Saturday afternoon, and had many things left to prepare. (Yes, I really am nuts.) But there I was, late on Thursday afternoon, having turned my front hall into complete chaos, with no exit strategy in sight. What’s a girl to do?

Call Mom, of course!

Happily, my mother was coming down on Friday anyway, so it wasn’t too hard to rope her into lending a hand — and a lot of moral support — so I could clean up the mess I’d made. After I turned the corner with the organizing, we had to go out to do some errands — and I picked up a hanging shoe organizer for smaller items, which was just what the closet was missing.

Now, as you can see from the photo, it’s an organized space. I can find everything I need. And if inspiration is in short supply, I need only pull open a drawer or two and the ideas come wafting out. I didn’t have room for everything; a few bins of more specialized supplies went back to the attic, and a bin of kids’ art projects got stashed on a tall shelf in the playroom, but my basics are here — as is a bin of basic supplies for the kids. I wanted it to be easy to grab the bin and do something fun with the little ones, rather than having to drag a box down from the attic or bring it up from the basement.

It’s satisfying to have the closet sorted out, but I do wonder why I’ve had such a hard time getting my own creative things sorted out in our new space. What’s the block? Is it as simple as not wanting to have everything organized, because once it is, then I have no excuse not to work? That angle doesn’t really resonate with me, but who knows.

How about you? If you’ve ever had a room of your own, did that space have priority in your life? And if you don’t have any personal space, or your creative space is shared with many others, do you correlate the state of your space with the state of your creativity? Is that why it so often gets pushed to the bottom of the list?

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 1,787 other followers