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Dec 31

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12/31 Weekly creativity contest winner & new prompt

Another season of yuletide comes to a close, but not before we enjoy the entries for Noël, this week’s creativity contest prompt. Our winner is Karen Winters, who sent in an utterly captivating — and highly creative — image. She captured something truly glorious. Congratulations, Karen — your $10 amazon.com gift certificate is on its way. Karen writes:

angeloflight2“This image was painted entirely in Photoshop using the liquify, smudge, and other gooey tools. There was no paint brushing in this, nor preset global filters. It was done entirely by pushing around pixels, a few at a time.

“Last year, in late November, a long-time dear friend of mine was remodeling her home and put in a beautiful new front door with a beveled glass insert. We happened to stop by to visit her at a time of day when the afternoon light was streaming through the door, casting scattered golden patterns on her wall. I was entranced with the look of it, and, because I never go anywhere without my digital camera, I took about a dozen shots of it from different perspectives — close up, wide, high, low and so on [see below, left].

doorlight“A few days later I opened one of the photos in Photoshop and just started manipulating it using my Wacom pad. I tried several different experiments but this was the one that turned out the best. My friend is a devout Catholic and attributes her recovery from the very early stages of colon cancer, and her husband’s cancer survival in part to the protection of her guardian angel. So I created a representation of that ‘being of light’ — literally — painted with the light that came in her own door every single day. She liked it a lot and I hope Creative Construction readers will, too.”

 

From Bec Thomas, a stunning photograph: “We had a very white holiday season this year, a rare event in my part of the world. Kids of course were thrilled, all of us that had to drive were a little less thrilled, lol.”
winter-of-2008

 

From Cathy Coley, an inquisitive poem:

Noel
At Christmas Eve service we sing
The First Nowell.
My husband asks, why did they spell it wrong?
Same question I asked as a kid singing in choir.
Because the person who wrote the lyrics
spelled it that way.

Further conversation:
Don’t the French spell it
N-o-e-l-l-e?
Only when it’s a girl’s name —
remember Noel Coward?
Son asks, what does Noel mean anyway?
I answer, I think it’s French for Nativity.
Whether I’m wrong or right, the answer satisfies.
Curiosity slaked, the wrapping is shredded.

 

From Carmen Torbus, two lovely photos:

xmas08-3-better

tree12-30-08-1

 

From me (Miranda): Our annual family tradition on Christmas Eve: decorating gingerbread houses. Well, sometimes it’s a single house that we all collaborate on; other times we each have our own dwelling to work with. This year, in honor of all of the trees that fell during the ice storm at Grandma’s house, we decorated a large stand of trees that tower in sugary glory above Grandma’s little cabin. We thought about sticking a few of the trees through Grandma’s roof, just to make the reenactment more realistic, but in the end, we kept it simple. By the time I took this photograph yesterday, some of the candy had already been pried off — but you get the idea.

gingerbread_trees

 

This week’s prompt: “Stars”

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, January 6, 2009. The winning entry receives a $10 gift certificate to amazon.com. 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 contest, 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 here 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.

Dec 30

2 Comments

Contest deadline tonight

Cough up some of your lingering yule spirit and send in an entry for this week’s creativity contest! The prompt is Noël.

Dec 30

7 Comments

New Year’s resolutions?

landscapeNew Year’s Eve is a wonderful excuse for taking stock in where you’re at. What were the highlights of the past year? The challenges? Have you redefined yourself in small ways — or big ones? Where do you want to go in 2009? Are there a few things on your “someday” list that you could turn into reality in the near future?

I like to come up with a list of goals for the new year. Some are measurable (train for — and run in — a half marathon in June; lose ten pounds; finish my book) and others are more nebulous (keep working toward living in the moment and letting go of stress). I haven’t completed my list yet — I’ll save that for Thursday evening. But I’m thinking things through.

Here are a few interesting ideas, if you’re working on your own resolutions.

Resolutions for writers
Resolutions for artists
Resolutions for photographers
Resolutions for quilters
Resolutions for bloggers
Resolutions for mothers

You might also want to consider creating a vision board that illustrates your goals — or mindsets — for the coming year. Having a graphic representation in view might be just the thing to keep you focused as the weeks progress.

And if, like me, you’re working toward enjoying the present moment more, here’s a lovely blog post from Anna Johnson about bathtime as meditation.

How about you?

Dec 29

3 Comments

Women transcending

I hope everyone had a wonderful, joyous holiday!

I had an unusually chaotic week, as the holiday was bookended with house showings — but the very good news is that we signed an offer on our house over the weekend. Fingers crossed that everything proceeds smoothly. We’ve spent nearly two years in real estate limbo, and I can’t believe that this protracted process might really be coming to and end. Now, to negotiate on the new house, and try not to fall into panic mode.

While trying to take a deep breath, I was reminded of this beautiful video from writer Kelly Corrigan, who articulates so vividly the strength that women draw from the sisterhood we share with other women. (Thanks to Rebecca for the video link.) Without question, this blog is evidence of the sisterhood.

Dec 25

2 Comments

Cathy: Have yourself a merry little Christmas!

xmas-starMay your families all enjoy warmth and good cheer this week as we all come together to bring back light out of darkness. Let us watch the days grow longer now, remember our own family and long-standing religious traditions. No matter our differences, may we all know peace, love and joy this week and into the New Year.

Love to my sisters at Creative Construction!

Shalom, Salaam, Aloha, Peace.

Cathy

Dec 24

4 Comments

12/24 Weekly creativity contest winner & new prompt

Merry Christmas Eve! While you’re wrapping that last-minute gift, here are a few others to enjoy. Our winner for this week’s creativity contest is Carrie O’Neill (who happens to be coming for Breakfast next week). Carrie writes: “Here’s my entry for the weekly challenge: gift. She’s the best gift I ever received! The illustration is watercolor and ink on paper.” Congratulations, Carrie! Your $10 amazon.com gift certificate is on its way.

 

3096863100_898575590d1

 

From Cathy Coley:
19sept2008weekofwalks-022I’m sure I’ve talked enough here about the trials and tribulations that brought my daughter to our family this year. But I honestly haven’t allowed myself the full emotional wellspring to bubble over from deep within. I do love all of my children equally, each in their own way. However, there is an extra sense of her arrival as a true gift.

I met my husband when my boys were quite young, in the midst of a drawn-out divorce. Six months after we met, his father, dying of cancer over Christmas, charged me with providing him a grandson, “or my name stops here.” There are things people who are dying will say, that those of us taking living for granted will not. I went into his sick room set up on the first floor when he woke and called out for some company. He had a way of being exceedingly blunt, “”Hey, I’m lonely back here!” So I joined him and sat for a while listening to a man who was going to say what he needed to say, because he had to. He told me he knew how much Honey already loved me and my boys. He told me if I broke his heart, he was coming after me from beyond, and he told me it was up to me to provide him a grandson. Not too much of a guilt trip, eh? But I listened. I am still listening.

There are times I can feel him in our home or around our family. His beautiful watercolor landscapes painted during his illness, and a moving oil portrait of his wife, painted when he was still in art school over 40 years ago, hang in our living room. He definitely hovered in protection when I was very ill and immobilized with her pregnancy, for the whole darn thing. In the hospital, and in the weeks and months after she was born, he hovered as the effervescence of unbelievable joy that surrounded us all. In her early months, she was having very clear conversations with someone over my right shoulder, where the blank wall of my bedroom was. But making him happy isn’t all of what her arrival has brought us in the way of a gift.

I always said I wanted at least four children, so each could have a brother and a sister. I am the only girl wedged between two brothers. After my second son’s infancy and toddlerhood, I gave up. I don’t want to go into it all, but as much as I love him, it was very hard. It took me a while to realize something really was up before I took him in and received his diagnosis on the autism spectrum. Lots else was going on that led to my divorce from the boys’ father during that trying time. I thought I was done having kids. I thought, he’s like having four-in-one, so I guess I’m done at two. Then I met Honey a year and a half later.

He was a natural with the boys. Every kid or animal I ever saw around him went straight to him. Some men are just like that. My own father is one. So is my older brother. And here, I met someone who not only cares about me and I care about him, but he truly loves my kids. And they were drawn to him, too. Slowly, an old dream of another child began to bloom and seem possible. He took extraordinary care of a very cranky, needy, bedridden and pregnant wife. He got the boys off to school on his own before work, he worked hard at work and at home. And then she arrived, quickly, and relatively easily. Her birth was natural and far easier than either of the boys’, but that’s another story. The look of love on his face that arrived with his daughter was another gift, as she was a gift to us both.

Baby C is a gift in many more ways, but I’ll stop here by say that her even-keeled, curious and deliberate personality may be the greatest gift of all. Every day, I marvel that I get to spend it with her.

 

From Kelly Warren:

Dear Mr. Fung Chow,

My family and I came upon you in a Washington, D.C. Metro stop on Sunday afternoon, October 12. We were a bedraggled family of four—a dad grumpy from having to lug a double stroller up and down the Metro’s escalator stairs, two little redheads cranky from no naps and lots of activities in the big city, and a mom tired and run down from trying to keep everyone together, sane, fed, and happy near the end of a long day of sightseeing.

We were changing train lines and had to maneuver through three different sets of escalators when we met you. My husband had just tossed the stroller up against the wall near where you were standing, and I looked at you with apologetic eyes as I picked the stroller up and leaned it against the wall. You smiled sweetly at me. You asked me what brought us to the city, and when I told you about my sister’s wedding the previous day, you said, “Oh, I bet she looked so beautiful. And how did you two meet?” As I started telling you how my husband and I met, my daughters came over to my side. It was then that you pulled two little envelopes out of your pocket and gave one to each of my girls. I have to admit, I was a bit hesitant at first, a complete stranger in the Metro giving something to my children, but after a moment’s hesitation, I saw the little light shining in your eyes. My girls looked at the beautiful little red envelopes with Asian characters on them, and not knowing what they were, looked at me in confusion. When you suggested they open them, they looked at me for guidance, and I told them it was okay. Of course, all they paid attention to was the dollar bill you had slipped inside each one, but I saw the other card in there as well and briefly read the side that included your name, address, e-mail, and position: “Retired Federal Civil Servant.”

Our train was approaching the station, so we didn’t really have time to say much more than “Thank you” as we gathered up our stroller and children and boarded the train. I watched you for a moment as you entered the train at the rear of our car. As soon as you boarded, you started cheerfully talking to the people around you. I tried to catch snippets of your conversation but couldn’t hear over the noise of the train. But I could see you, a big smile on your face as you brought smiles to the faces of everyone around you. Best I could tell, you got off at the next stop, disappearing like an angel, and it was then that I took the time to read what you had given us. It was a chart of all the Chinese New Years complete with the year, date of the New Year, the animal representing it, and the characteristics of those born in that year. Through it, I learned that I was born in the year of the Snake and am “wise, passionate, determined, and attractive”; that my husband was born in the year of the Dog and is “dependable, protective, tender, private, and eccentric”; and lastly, that my daughters were born in the year of the Sheep and will grow up to be “sensitive, have success in the arts, aesthetic, and charitable.” I marveled at the similarities to our personalities.

When we got back to my sister’s apartment, my girls drew pictures for you to thank you for your kindness. I’ve kept the cards you gave us, along with these pictures, in a little zippered pouch in my purse ever since you gave them to us. I even convinced my girls to let me keep the dollar bills in there so we could save everything as a reminder of the blessing we received from you that day. I’m not sure why you chose us. Maybe it was the frustration and tiredness you saw on our faces; maybe you were just waiting for a family with two small children to come by; or maybe you truly were an angel, sent to remind us that no matter the troubles that may come our way, someone is always watching over us, and that a simple gift of friendly kindness can make a huge impression on someone else’s life, as you have on mine.

I think of you often, dear sir, and whenever I’m having a bad day, I pull those beautiful little red envelopes out of their pouch in my purse and read them again. I’ll save them to give to my children when they are old enough to truly appreciate the gesture. And I’ll tell them this story about the angel we met on the Metro in Washington, D.C. when they were five years old. Thank you, Mr. Franklin Fung Chow, for you truly are a blessing, and I’m quite certain there were gossamer wings underneath your jacket. I wish you the merriest of Christmas holidays and many blessings for the New Year to come.

 

From me (Miranda):
babypolariod

The Last Baby

Your smile is a gift
I unwrap with
greedy pleasure
each new morning
Your tiny starfish hands
effortless hooks
through my heart

 

This week’s prompt: “Noël”

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, December 30. The winning entry receives a $10 gift certificate to amazon.com. 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 contest, 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 here 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.

Dec 23

4 Comments

Kelly: Lost in Bed, Bath and Beyond

Well, put me in the Worst Mama Ever category: Yesterday, I lost my children in Bed, Bath and Beyond. We were shopping for sheets, reveling in the feel of the new “Beech” sateen that feels like silk but washes up like easy-care cotton. We had just finished singing Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer along with Muzak, even holding hands while we were singing, and then POOF! The next thing I knew, they had disappeared. I tried to remain calm, quietly calling for them as I knew they had to be just one or two aisles over playing hide-and-go-seek from me. But when I couldn’t find them anywhere in the linens section, I started calling their names a little more forcefully while quickly looking up and down the aisles.

An excruciating moment later, I heard “Kelly, please come to Customer Service. Your children are waiting for you.” over the PA system. Linens was in the back of the store; Customer Service was in the front of the store. How the heck did they get all the way up there? Along with the flood of relief came the red-faced pang of embarrassment. I was certain every woman around me was saying to herself, “What kind of mother would loose her children in Bed, Bath and Beyond?” When I saw them, I could tell that Livvie was on the verge of a tearful breakdown while Sarah had that “Oops, I think I’m about to get in trouble again” look on her face.

That’s the thing with twins. I’m sure those of you who have children fairly close in age may experience this as well, but let me tell ya, there’s something different about that twin bond that will allow one to lead the other over a cliff in a heartbeat. My instigator, as you may have already guessed, is most definitely Sarah. Sometimes she’s so darned sneaky that, even though I may be incredibly ticked off at her in the moment, I’m secretly impressed at her thought process. She thought she could sneak away, drag her willing sister with her, have a little adventure in the store, and then casually wait up front like a little angel waiting for the first snow of Christmas. Case in point, dinner last night. I was trying to get her to eat just two little bites of peas and corn, just two little bites! She put the first one in her mouth, sloshed it around in there for a millennium, and then put the second bite in there before swallowing the first. We have these little battles often. Put food in mouth. Chew food incessantly. Put that “I’m gonna gag” face on. And then either finally swallow it or spit it out. Since I only asked her to eat two bites, I figured that was not too much to swallow, so I told her she didn’t have to eat anymore but she could not get up from the table until she swallowed what was in her mouth. I know, Worst Mama Ever again for trying to get my children to eat just a little bite of something other than PB&J or grilled cheese. A moment later she said, “Done, Mommy!” and opened her empty mouth to show me. I gave her a hearty congratulations on her success and asked her to bring her plate and cup to the sink. She dropped the plate in the sink, dumped the milk cup in the sink, and with a big smile on her face, quickly headed to the pantry to get a cookie for dessert. It was then that I looked in the sink and immediately realized she had not swallowed squat. She had simply spit it into her milk cup! So yep, there I was outwardly angry that she had lied to me, but secretly darn impressed that she thought of that! I told her that I did not appreciate her lying to me and sent her off to an early bed. Livvie, of course, reveled in the whole situation because she quickly realized she now had Mama and Daddy to herself for the rest of the night.

So back to our little adventure yesterday morning….we had planned to go to Chick-Fil-A for lunch, their reward for being good little angels while we were out running errands, but the disappearing act nixed that, and it was straight home for, what else, a cold PB&J before an early nap. I managed to keep my calm through a very quiet lunch and then put them down for a nap, in separate rooms, telling them both how much they scared me when I couldn’t find them in the store. I hope I put the fear of God in them, for I’m not sure my heart can take that again anytime soon.

We have two weeks at home together over these Christmas holidays. I’ve often wondered how stay-at-moms do it. Yeah, I definitely have quite the juggling act working full-time at the college, managing my jewelry business part-time, and raising twin five-year-olds, but on our first day home together I lost them in a major department store! I think we’ll stay home the rest of the Christmas break and just make lots of art. Maybe I’ll put chains on all the exterior doors while I’m at it…you know, just to be sure.

Dec 23

10 Comments

Mary: December Thoughts

I should be writing Christmas cards, but frankly I’d much rather be here in my darkened study, whiling away the time spinning words around. It was a long, sort of difficult day, with my six-year-old boy having a bad cough, and so not being able to romp around in the snow outside.

It kept us quite house-bound. We did a lot of playing, some arguing, some movie-watching, some running around like crazy people, and generally climbed the walls until bedtime.

Now I relax here in this comfortable seat and relish the silence. Funny how such life, such energy and immersion can be so stimulating and exhausting at once. I love these small people so dearly, and yet breathe a small sigh of relief once the house is quiet for the evening, and I can once again write in peace, with no interruptions, with no noise, no questions or incessant tappings on the shoulder.

I think about the new year coming, and hope that I can get some good work done – that this new year brings a snap of newly starched sheets to my rather burdensome creation, this book, this relentlessly unmade, rumpled bed of a project.

I know I speak harshly of it, for which I do apologize, book. I do love thee. But you are becoming heavy on my back — although I suppose that is my perception of you, and not at all a reflection of you personally. I think, actually, I’m putting all these feelings on myself.

For one thing, it is NOT good practice to give myself deadlines. It just makes me feel all the more despondent when I don’t meet them. For example, I was bragging talking to my friends and acquaintances about how I thought it would be completed by the end of this year. HA.

(Isn’t it funny how life always deals out a blow after one has been bragging? “Oh, yeah? Take that!” says Life, as it fills up your glass with a dose of humility, plopping in a tablet of irony, for good measure. And you are sorely humbled. And also sort of embarrassed. And wanting to just slink away home with a blanket over your head, for a nice cup of tea and some good old fashioned self-pity. What? You don’t do that? Ah. Well. ANYWAY).

In essence, I hope the new year brings all good things – a hope, I suppose, all people around the world have. But, what of this new year? What if it doesn’t deliver? What if I simply don’t have the time to finish? What if I am constantly bombarded with interruptions, with parenting, with the day-to-day happenings that constitute a bustling and living household?

If I am to make any headway on this project, I fear I must schedule — a thing I really hesitate doing, because it’s another sort of added pressure. But if I don’t, if I just let the whole thing go where it wants to, I’m afraid that I won’t get enough done. So, here is a tentative schedule, tied up with a nice red ribbon, just in time for Christmas:

Writing times:

6:30 a.m.: I can get in about a half an hour to 45 minutes, if I start this early. It might be worth it. If I could just get out of bed.

1:00 p.m.: When Liv naps, I write. ON THE BOOK. Write for one hour, or until she wakes up.

8:00 p.m. -10:00 p.m.: After everyone is in bed, write – blogs, book, whatever I am inspired to do.

Of course, there are always those days when I’ll have more time, and also some days less. But this might be a good, basic plan for those “regular” days, when we are all running on our daily rhythm, and buzzing about knowing where we are going, and when we are getting there.

It seems like it might work out. It’s worth a try.

D’ya hear that, book? I’m with you on this. I’m on your side. I want you to be whole, complete, happy, read, loved. I am your partner, your hand to hold, your wooer, your teammate — your mother, for God’s sake. Don’t abandon me, not yet. Stick with me through this frisky, wild-eyed new year.

Let’s make it a good one.

Dec 22

8 Comments

Brittany: A Christmas Miracle

I don’t know how I get anything accomplished.

Part of that is, of course, being mom to a two-year-old and a six-month-old. It’s hard enough to balance motherhood with novel writing. You expect the constant interruptions, the neediness, the asynchronous nap times. But then, sometimes, things happen that you don’t expect.

For me, it all began in October and the SC Writer’s Workshop Writer’s Conference. I had a finished manuscript (or so I thought) and was intent on getting it published. The conference was a tremendous success. Three agents expressed interest in my novel, I won 2nd place in the Carrie McCray Memorial Literary Award for playwriting, and I received valuable feedback on the shortcomings of my novel. I came home feeling empowered, motivated, and ready to plunge into a final re-write.

And then I got the rug pulled out from under me.

Sam scaled the bathroom counter and played with a bottle of Tylenol. I couldn’t be sure he’d ingested any, and it would only take four and a half to cause major liver damage, so Tom and I took both boys to the emergency room where we sat for four hours. A blood test revealed that Sam was fine. His acetaminophen level was zero. But it was there, at the hospital, that I’m pretty sure I contracted the whooping cough that stopped all work on my book in its tracks. And then the whooping cough became pneumonia. I missed Halloween and was still sick at Thanksgiving.

In the meantime, Sam, my two-year-old, developed his first ear infection. A double ear infection. So in between coughing, vomiting, night sweats, and fever, I took turns staying up nights with him, nursing him back to health, for four weeks when the first round of antibiotics didn’t work.

We all felt good for a week, although I still wasn’t 100 percent. During that time, my follow-up x-rays came back from the radiologist. Something didn’t look quite right. One CT scan later, the doctor discovered that my pneumonia was gone. What he hadn’t expected to find was my slightly enlarged thymus. I’m looking at another CT scan in March, and if it is still enlarged, it might have to be removed through sternum splitting surgery.

Then, the first week of December, Sam developed a sinus infection. Shortly thereafter, John got it too. Yellow pus oozing from the eyes, copious green snot, difficulty breathing, two little boys not sleeping. Then Tom got sick. It started out as a cold, but then he developed a sore throat that no medicine would touch. He also had a sinus infection and a throat full of abscesses. I caught a cold. Then began having sinus pressure and rainbow colored sneezes. I fled to the doctor, terrified of another bacterial infection. He prescribed antibiotics for my head cold, as a preventative measure. I’m in a new category of risk now, susceptible to every infection that comes down the pike.

Then yesterday, with antibiotics in our system, I thought we were all on the mend–until Sam had an Exorcist-esque attack of he stomach flu in his carseat on the way home from preschool. I have spent the last 24 hours literally elbow deep in noxious bodily fluids.

Through it all, I’ve been writing. I finagled Sam into five-day preschool. I told Tom to prepare himself, I was finishing the book this year and if nothing else got done, tough. I ran away from home and pounded out draft after draft at the local Panera. My mantra became “little drops of water fill the bucket.”

And today, all those little splashes of words did indeed fill the bucket. The introduction is entirely new. The writing is tight. The story is ready.  And has been sent in its entirety to Agent #1. The book is out there now, in the world, and hopefully, will get published someday.

I’m going to take a writing break for the next few weeks. Thoroughly douse my house in Lysol and clean up the messes I’ve neglected.

Then I’m going back to work on something new.

Dec 19

8 Comments

Breakfast with Angela

Breakfast time again! This week, meet Angela Dose — beadmaker, blogger, and mother of two. Angela’s exquisite glass beads are absolute gems. Just ask our own Kelly Warren — she uses Angela’s beads for her Happy Shack Designs. It’s not hard to see why! So, take a quick break from your last-minute holiday preparations, and enjoy.

angelaCC: Please introduce yourself.
AD: Hello! I’m Angela Dose — wife, mom, dental assistant, glass beadmaker, and all around caretaker! I have been married to my husband for 18 years and we are the proud parents to two wonderful children (son 14 and daughter 12) they are the light of our lives!

CC: Tell us about your creative endeavors.
AD: I began making handmade glass (lampwork) beads in 2004. Originally I had a small, home-based artisan jewelry business, purchasing lampwork from other talented beadmakers on eBay. image002As time passed, I decided that if I knew how to make my own beads it would be a positive move for my business. Making my own beads would allow me complete control of the design process and I wouldn’t have to wait for someone else to think up the color combinations and shapes that I wanted to design with. Well….since I began making my own beads I haven’t designed or created a single piece of finished jewelry for sale yet! Glass is my passion! I opened my Etsy shop in March of this year, and I couldn’t be more pleased. I mainly sell loose lampwork bead sets to other collectors and designers for use in their own creations. Let me tell you, there are so many wonderful, creative people out there who make fabulous handmade jewelry! I am so fortunate to have found this sales venue and these people!

image003CC: What inspired you to start a blog?
AD: In August of this year I reluctantly decided it was time to blog. Now…don’t get me wrong, I love blogs and blogging but it was a leap of faith for me as I usually like to fly under the social radar! After many years of working with my customers, and having them ask me “what I do” ~ “what I look like” ~ “what’s your studio like” ~ “how many kids do you have”…I figured it was time! I am glad to finally BE the face of my business, and I have been warmly welcomed! I look forward to sharing my goofy thoughts, hobbies and creations with my blog readers, I have met so many gracious, friendly people along the way and for them I am grateful as they continually amuse and inspire me both personally and creatively.

image004CC: Do you feel that blogging keeps you creatively “accountable”?
AD: I think my blog keeps me accountable by keeping me grounded. It has taken me a long time to actually feel like I have earned the title “artist.” When I sit down to blog it really reminds me that I am “me” ~ Angela ~ just Angela and not some hotshot beadmaker! I just try to keep it real and blog about things other than beads too…my life is about so much more than just my glass!

image008CC: Where do you do your creative work?
AD: Funny thing is…I had to bargain my studio space outta my husband. You see, it’s kinda hard to tell your husband the “firefighter” that you would like to steal a corner of his beloved woodshop to start a large fire and melt yourself some glass! Now wouldn’t that be a kick if you burnt down a firefighters garage! Yikes! Anyhoo, after much debate (ahem…more like begging!) I had myself a space to call “my studio” and I was so pleased that my husband even helped me set it all up! Though, I’m sure it was “so it got done right enough” for him! Along with my studio space I have a small office where I take care of the nuts and bolts of my business…stringing, photographing, editing, listing, packaging, and mailing. I’m always accompanied there by our big fuzzy cat Ollie, he’s a great sidekick! Personal space…it’s a good thing!

image010CC: Do you have a schedule for your creative work?
AD: By day, I’m a dental assistant in a fairly large, two-doctor practice. I count my blessings every day that my art has made it possible for me to work less at the office and still make a living while being there for my kids. A typical day when I’m not at the office involves getting the kids up, fed, and out the door to school. When that is accomplished that leaves me with about 5 good hours two days a week to create! My children have a fairly light activity schedule (compared to some kids around our neighborhood!) but I still manage to spend quite a few hours a week on the road being “taxi mom.” Not a big deal really, I’m just glad to be able to have that time with my kids. Sometimes the best design ideas come when I’m sitting in the school parking lot all alone in the quiet waiting for the kids.

image006CC: Has motherhood changed you creatively?
AD: I don’t think motherhood has significantly changed me creatively. I have always been allowed to express my artistic side with my family and they’re my biggest support system. Well…there it is in a nutshell and I didn’t even know it…motherhood has afforded me an awesome, unconditional, and steadfast support system! In all my hair-brained artistic endeavors my family is there to support and help me. Before I was a beadmaker I was a wedding cake designer with a home-based business. My kids could come within an inch of a huge cake and not disturb it one bit ~ then turn right around and help me deliver that mammoth creation like pros and they were still just young kids! Yep…they make me a better person, no doubt about that!

image011CC: What do you struggle with most?
AD: Well, I’d like to say that I don’t struggle with anything BUT…I know most of you out there are moms too! So, I guess I would have to say balance. There are days that beads come before dinner, dishes, or the vacuum! There are days that everyone else has to come before beads. There are days when I hate to tell anyone “no” whether it be my family or my clients. I’m such a “yes” person that sometimes I create my own misery, but I’m working on that one! I have to remember that I’m not a superwoman, and that’s okay…now just remember to remind me of that, would ya?!

image007CC: Where do you find inspiration?
AD: I’m inspired by many things in regards to my art. Though I’m not a scrapbooker I have an enormous stash of beautiful paper. I LOVE paper! There are days that I can’t think of a color combo for beads to save my soul, so I dig out the old paper collection and bingo, it sparks something for me! Inspiration at its best! In addition to paper and color in general I would have to say that nature is another one of my major inspirations. I have a huge love affair with perennial flowers and bulbs. I have a blast getting in the dirt and planting, mostly because I can’t wait for the result! There is just something so magical about blooming plants; they are the most beautiful and delicate works of art ever!

CC: What are your top 5 favorite blogs?
AD: Geeze Louise..let me think…hmmmm that’s a tough one! I read quite a few blogs but I would have to say that some of my favorites are Allsorts, The Glass Slipper — Sarah Hornik’s site — and Watch Me Create.

image005CC: What is your greatest indulgence?
AD: My greatest indulgences: new glass, Starbucks, and paper of course!

CC: What are you reading right now?
AD: One word — TWILIGHT. I have totally been caught up in this book — I’m just finishing up the first one and have the second book on deck! It’s been a long time since I have sat down to read anything other than bead-related stuff…I’m enjoying it!

image012CC: What advice would you give to other mothers struggling to be more creative?
AD: My advice would be to get your family involved! My kids love to come into the studio with me and try out new color combos by pulling rods. Sometimes the most mundane days can be brightened by someone else’s creative point of view. Start up a new crafty project with your family — dishes and laundry can so totally wait. Making art and memories with the ones you love is priceless!

CC: Thank you, Angela!

Dec 18

4 Comments

YOU should be one of US

Doing a bit of housekeeping. I’ve just updated the About page here at Creative Construction, and I’d like to include an avatar and brief bio for all of our blog regulars. Whether you post, comment, or just lurk — and you’d like to be included on the About page, please send me a short bio (feel free to include links) along with an avatar. You can check out what I posted about myself if you want a starting point. I hope you guys will join me, ’cause I don’t want to be hanging out there all alone!

Dec 18

7 Comments

Dee: Yes I’m Insane, So What?

My name is Dee Thompson and I am a paralegal and writer in Atlanta, Georgia. I am a single mom to a 17-year-old beauty, Alesia, adopted from Russia in 2004, and my son Michael, age 12, adopted from Kazakhstan in 2007. I spent 20 years dating and never found Mr. Right, so finally I gave up. Now I am much happier because I have my children, and my mother lives with us and helps me a lot. I write The Crab Chronicles and Scribblerchick’s Movie Dish whenever I can — lunch hours, late nights, early mornings — as a way to keep my writing skills and blow off steam. I also want people to read The Crab Chronicles and think that adopting an older child can be a wonderful experience. In addition to blogging, I have written a children’s book called Jack’s New Family, about a boy adopted from Russia and how he adjusts to America, and numerous magazine articles. I have manuscripts about my kids’ adoptions, and I am looking for a publisher. Both my adoptions were pretty unusual. I met Alesia when my choir sang at her orphanage. Before that I’d had no idea I would ever adopt a child. My son is missing his right hand due to a frostbite accident, but he’s a great kid.

When I blog I am sometimes very informative, sometimes funny, and sometimes I just need to vent. Some posts are all three. Here is a recent post, entitled: Yes I’m Insane, So What?

I tried to go to sleep last night and ignore the bizarre beeping that was happening somewhere downstairs all night. Found out this morning it’s a smoke alarm with batteries that are failing. The intermittent beeps are to annoy you until you start screaming and tear your hair out trying to figure out why the beeps are happening and you approach the smoke alarm with a hatchet and a crazed look in your eye and — I digress.

We had a day of epic thunderstorms and tornadoes whipping around middle Georgia. It’s December. We should have SNOW, for crying out loud. Instead, we get thunderstorms. It was so weird driving in this morning feeling like it was July — I didn’t need a coat or even a jacket — and hearing Christmas music on the radio.

I looked at Michael last night and thought OMG, his head is getting bigger. It IS bigger. He takes after me — I have a freakishly large head. Mother looks pained every time she recalls my birth, because I came out looking like a big-headed alien child with bright red hair. The first photo, the newborn photo, shows a tiny creature that looks extremely pissed off, probably because Mother stayed on a diet the whole time she was pregnant and gained less than 20 lbs.

I don’t have any such traumatic birth or infancy memories of Michael, of course, but the head thing really amazes me. He is growing almost 1/2 inch every month, which explains the bigger head. The pediatrician said for boys Michael’s age, normal growth is about 2 inches a year. Mike is growing 3-4 inches a year.

I was on the elevator in the parking garage yesterday and this woman tried to get on, then realized we were going up and stepped back, apologizing to me and the other lady on there. We just nodded. I started at her as the doors closed. She was very tall and skinny, and appeared to be an alien life form. I turned to the other lady in the elevator, though, because I thought, I need confirmation of what I have just seen. “Is it my imagination, or did that woman have the tiniest head you have ever seen?! Good lord!” The other lady nodded and started laughing hysterically.

There’s a guy I see all the time in the parking garage, smoking, and he has a very large head. [In a man, that’s called “leonine.” In a woman, it’s called “a freakishly large head”!] Anyway, I saw him yesterday and thought, if you and the pinhead lady got together — would your child have a normal size head?!

I love this quote: “Insane people are always sure that they are fine. It is only the sane people who are willing to admit that they are crazy.” — Nora Ephron

I am quite willing to admit I am very eccentric. Maybe even crazy, but not in a bad way.

Michael asked me last night while he was brushing his teeth what my favorite movie is. I couldn’t think, so I just said Braveheart. He rolled his eyes, “No, what is your favorite movie that WE DON’T HAVE?!” he demanded. Again, brain fart. “The Color Purple?” I said. He gave me a look of great suspicion. I’m sure he has no idea what The Color Purple even is, but it sounds weird that I like both that AND Braveheart. Finally, duh, it occurred to me that he was thinking about my Christmas gift. I said “Sweetie, we are going shopping this weekend and you can pick out a gift for me, OK? I’ll tell you what I want. Don’t worry about it. I’ll also help you and Alesia pick out something for Granny.”

He gave me a speculative look, like, can I trust you? He reminded me of a cross between Opie Taylor and a very short KGB agent.

I had a dream last night that I was hanging out with Tom Cruise. We weren’t doing anything fun, but I was thinking in my dream, you are so cute but you need to get a CLUE, dude. Quit hanging out with the crazies and get a wife your own age.

As soon as I mentioned this dream at breakfast, Alesia mentioned a dream involving her friend Elena, in which Elena had very long legs and knees oddly positioned. In the dream, Elena was wearing high heels. Her legs looked fabulous except for the knees. This led to a discussion of shoes, and Alesia said Elena wears high heels to school. I must have looked distressed, because I think it’s unwise to wear high heels in a big school — I bet her feet hurt at the end of the day. I detest high heels anyway. Alesia immediately got angry at me and said in her typically infuriated raised voice “Elena can wear high heels IF SHE WANTS TO! You’re not her MOTHER!!” Lately, Alesia gets furious with me every time I disagree with her. She talks VERY LOUD at the slightest provocation. It’s maddening.

It was a loooooong therapy session tonight…

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