Commission Me!

Today Jami Nato, whose blog I heart with all my heart, gave me a little shout out and I realized that I should probably do a little intro into why I do what I do, which is draw.

I draw because I love it. But I also draw because getting paid to do what you love is an incredible gift. It blesses me and my family when I'm able to help out financially through the gift of art. Think of the thing you love doing most - now imagine getting paid do it. Amazing, right?! How grateful would we all be if we were given the opportunity to get paid to do what we're passsionate about.

If you like what you saw on Jami's blog and would like one of your own, commission me to draw something for you! Woo! It's so fun for you! Then all your friends will be like, "Wow, a hand drawn picture of you and your family wearing clothes that you actually own - how cool! I want one too"

That's what our friends Cameron and Ellie thought. Wanna meet them?

Shazzam...there they are in all their hand drawn cuteness (+ their dog Lady):

You know you want one :)

Email me (see here) and let me know how I can turn you into a cute little drawing!

England 2013

My family and I celebrated New Year's Eve, 1992 on a British Airways flight to London. I was 7 going on 8 and it was my first airplane ride. I spilled orange juice on myself - I remember this because it was written in a diary I was keeping at the time. A few weeks later, while having lunch at my new British middle school, I had apple juice spilled on me (accidently) by a girl named Hayley that the teacher described as a "trouble maker" - she was kidding, but I didn't clue into the sarcasm, so I was terrified when I was assigned a seat next to her. The juice spilling was confirmation of my fears at the time.  Later that day I was introduced to Hayley's best friend Sarah who told me I was ugly (she still denies it, but why would I imagine something like that?) Twenty years later, they remain my dearest, most beloved friends.

In the two and a half years my family lived on Windsor Road in Gerrards Cross, Buckinghamshire, Sarah, Hayley and I gathered a myriad of strange and wonderful memories, playing games of our own invention. With Sarah a game we dubbed "vomit" which involved placing a bottle cap full of orange juice in your mouth and seeing how much you could keep from spilling out (weird). Hayley and I enjoyed standing on the edge of my tub looking into the big wall to wall mirror as we "shaved" toothpaste off our face with a wet toothbrush (I don't know).

Here we are back in the 90s (from left - Hayley, who hates this picture, Sarah and myself) getting ready for a school production of Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. I was cast as a piece of corn (!) I was only on stage for about 3 minutes but was still required to go to early morning rehearsal to practice "waving like a piece of corn."

My family moved back to the States in 1995 and it would be another 7 years before the three of us would be reunited.  Hayley faithfully stayed in touch through letters and cards, while Sarah and I barely talked because we were lazy penpals.  But when I returned to England in 2002 as a graduation present from my parents, it was as if time had stood still and nothing had changed. And it still feels that way today. No matter how much time goes by between visits, we are still those little girls vomitting juice and shaving toothpaste off our face - in spirit, of course.

Life, naturally, has also brought a lot of change for each of us. In 2006, while I was living in England and working with an organization called Scripture Union, Sarah began dating Richard. I love this man (platonically) as much as she loves him (romantically) and love that he's in her life.The last time I saw them (as well as Hayley) was when they flew to Cleveland for my wedding to be bridesmaids. Even Richard was a bridesmaid! Just kidding. But seriously, that week was such a memory maker. Do you want to hear about it? Great. Now's not the time though.

Right now I want to tell you about how excited I am that after five long years Richard finally popped the question. Praise the Lord! That man will officially be in our lives for good. This also means a long awaited wedding. A long awaited reunion. A long awaited trip to show Tim the land that I love. It means being a bridesmaid of a friend I have loved for twenty years now (how am I even that old?!) It means walking down the aisle in the church of my old British middle school. It means so many glorious and wonderful things.

It also amounts to a whole lot of dollar signs. The wedding is set for July 13 of next year. If you know me personally, or you've been reading this blog for a while, you know that Tim and I have recently gone down to one income since (essentially) losing my job and having a baby. Finding the funds to make this trip happen isn't going to be easy. We're on a no-frills budget just to make ends meet as it is so we're having faith that our 2012 tax return will cover the cost of the flights (currently they're $1700 per person round trip) and maybe a little spending money. So the time to start saving, if we can manage it, is now.

I'm also going to do something totally crazy and unheard of: I'm going to ask if you would be willing to help us. Now I know this probably seems a little audacious and self-centered. I know lots of people could ask for money for way more important things. I know a lot of people out there are struggling. I know lots of you could use a kids-free trip to England right about now.  But for us, this isn't so much a vacation as it a once in a lifetime opportunity to see one of my best friend's get married and to be a special part of such a special day. Let me assure you that I wouldn't ask for your help if I thought we'd be able to come up with the funds on our own.  This trip is deeply meaningful and I really want to be there to celebrate Sarah and Richard's wedding day. If you don't like the idea of giving money to something like this, I totally understand and please don't give. Save it for something you truly feel called to donate to like this or this or this. But if you want to bless Tim and I - as well our friends - then you can donate a little something towards our trip by clicking the PayPal "donate" button at the top of the page in the right hand sidebar.

Or just donate your prayers.

Because we need those too.

Sarah and I at the height of 90s British fashion.
We loved those puppets.
Such an awkward picture.

Box of Joy

This post was written at the beginning of April, when we had that crazy heat wave. I don't know why I held off publishing it. I think I was waiting to take a picture of "the box" and it never happened. Now it's nearing the end of spring and as temperatures rise, so does the amount of sweating going on around here. It's 80 degrees in our house because I refuse to turn the AC on (money-saver!) and it's just sticky and blurg. So here's my spring post from two months ago as I think on cooler days....

Spring/Autumn  >  Winter/Summer

Take that summer people*! 

I love spring.

I love the temperatures.

I love the greenness.

I love opening the windows to let the fresh air in.

I love the sunshine.

I love that it means a return to the outdoors.

You know what else I love about the winter/spring transition (as well as the summer/fall one)? The clothes box comes out. You know the one I'm talking about.... that big box of all your spring/summer clothes that were put away once the cold weather blew in. We drag it out of the closet (an old moving box that's torn and busting at the seams from holding too many clothes too many times) and with great anticipation I open its tattered flaps to greet my clothes like old friends. Oooo I forgot all about you (umm, except I'd never say that to an old friend, I'd just think it). Or Wow, I totally remember why I love you so much. Of course.... there's always a few "old friends" who aren't as forgiving with how you've changed since the last meeting. Oh you had two kids since we met? Well forget about ever fitting into me again. This happened A LOT this year, so the clothes box wasn't quite as welcome in my home as it usually is. It was a box of tears, rather than a box of joy {since april, thanks to our plant-strong diet, I've lost eight pounds and my clothes are more forgiving}

If you get anything from this post, get the part about how great the clothes box is can be. And if you don't have a clothes box because you have one of those massive closets that fits everything all the time, you're missing out my friend. You should try packing up your seasonal clothes just to experience the thrill of being reunited with them 6 months later. 

Ode to the Spring: A Haiku by Lauren Myers

                                                          Spring, here comes the sun

                                                          Warming my white window panes

                                                          The clothes box comes out

* I always seem outnumbered by fans of summer. Cleveland is full of people wishing for hot temperatures and the chance to live in an arid climate like Florida or Arizona. No thanks. All that amounts to is sweaty armpits, air conditioning jacking up the electricity bill and dreading the first day I have to put on my swim suit. 

Today's Word

About a month ago, I posted about my brain's strange habit of getting fixated on a particular word, of which I rarely know the defintion off-hand (such as diatribe) or at the very least, have not used the word in conversation (or for any reason at all) for a long time - if ever.

So I'm going to start a log (a blog log!) of what these words are, for no other reason than to see what I come up with at the end of the year and see if there's some strange Touch-like pattern (I dislike that show, by the way) except with words, not numbers. Not really. I just want to write them down, ok? Don't hate.

Today's Word

(time stuck in head: 10 hours)

spanakopita |ˌspanəˈkäpitə|

noun

(in Greek cooking) a phyllo pastry stuffed with spinach and feta cheese.ORIGIN modern Greek, literally ‘spinach pie.’

I have never made or eaten spanakopita. I wasn't even sure how to spell it.

Do you see why this whole thing is so weird for me?

Seriously.

Art Love

A while ago, I ran out of unused picture frames. This is no small accomplisment as I had about 12 lying around the house. I was an unashamed frame hoarder. However, now I've run out of frames and there is still more art out there begging to be hung on my walls. If you have any frames that you aren't using, I will happily take them off your hands so that I can fill them with the goodness of Sarah Goodreau:

I could go on...

The Story of Mother's Day (with videos)

Dear Jack,

For Mother's Day this year I received no gift from you. I was also not at the receiving end of any acts of service (breakfast in bed would have been nice). It's ok, I forgive you in light of these circumstances:

1. Your brother also failed in these departments.
2. You are only two and have yet to learn the functions of a stovetop.
3. Someday in the near future, you and your brother will consider Mother's Day to be the best day of the year (as all children do) and will respond accordingly.

However, May 13 wasn't a total bust thanks to your kind and loving father who made sure I need not lift my little finger too often. After he made us all a delicious dinner, we decided to go to the park because the weather was nice and a family outting seemed appropriate for the occasion (it was Mother's Day, in case you've already forgotten). When we got there, you spent the first five minutes getting across the wobbly bridge - as it turns out you are a very cautious child when it comes to playground equipment. 

After this video was shot, you stood around for a long time not doing anything. It got very boring. I mean, here we are at the park, it's Mother's Day (!) and you aren't even trying to pretend to have fun. What's up with that? Well apparently, it was because you were trying to have a bowel movement (yes, I caught it on video and you were not impressed). 

So after standing there for a good few minutes, wind blowing through your hair, silently gripping the bars for some leverage with a blank but flushed look on your face (concentration), you finally finished your business and decided you'd like to try out the rest of the place. In case you were wondering what your brother was doing the whole time we were at the playground...

He was making his serious face. Then he blinked. Then he made his serious face some more. 

I feel like this last video here really says it all about how much you and Daddy love me:

1. Because Daddy really didn't want to go down this slide but did just to humor me.
2. You went down while sitting in your own poo. 

Here's to many more special Mother's Days together!
(this post, if you couldn't tell, is all very tongue in cheek)

Patience & Hope

If ever a devotional spoke directly to my heart, it's this one. This week left me feeling as though life has been drawing us down into a dark hole - one that keeps bringing us further and further into darkness. This hole is laden with trials that Tim and I have been facing both together and individually {physical pain, financial stress, lack of the joy of the Lord, spiritual dryness} and those troubles seem endless and reoccuring. Last night I asked God to not take us any further into this hole; the darkness was beginning to feel consuming. And He responded this morning through this devotional that Tim shared with me:

Patience and Hope

Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning– Psalm 30:5

Weeping does indeed endure. In fact, the night of weeping can sometimes appear to be endless. When sorrow comes over us in waves, when disappointments follow hard on the heels of each other, when physical pain wracks our body — the night stretches on and on.

But here is the great consolation of Scripture. Joy is coming! It may seem to linger, but it is irresistibly moving toward you and will reach you with the darkness-shattering power of the dawn. Now matter how severe the shadows, no matter how stormy the darkness, once the dawn comes the night is easily and quickly forgotten. No darkness is so great that the coming of the Son does not drive it away.

For the Christian, the best is always yet to come. Is the energy and beauty of youth behind you? The best is yet to come. Has health and strength left you? The best is yet to come. Have you lost a loved one to that old enemy Death? The best is yet to come.

Weeping may endure; there are sorrows that simply cannot be faced without tears. But joy is coming…dawn is approaching…the best is yet to come.

How crazy is it that this touches on my exact thoughts {as bolded}!! Well, that's just God for you. He hears us. He is for us.

JOY IS COMING.

DAWN IS APPROACHING.

THE BEST IS YET TO COME.

I even changed our Scripture board to remind us :)