Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘painting’

Monday’s can be hard, let’s face it. You need to wake up early and get back to work, if you’re still working. You might just be a tad hungover from a fun weekend. And then, to top it off, many restaurants are closed on Mondays, don’t ask me why. So you return to your castle and slap together a sandwich or order pizza for dinner. But if you’re of a certain age, Monday can seem just like any other day.

Except yesterday was exceptional in a number of ways. First, we had the Love Bug delivered to us early because her parents were working and she’s out of school for the summer! Her brother’s pre-school in Belle Meade is still in session. Our little Kindergarten graduate showed up looking like Mata Hari with a long paisley scarf wrapped around her head.

I’d already watered the potted herbs, walked Ms Bean and started a load of laundry so we were free to play all day. But shopping for Great Grandma Ada took precedence, so we spent some time v e r y  s l o w l y riding different lift-recliners at our local surgical supply store. After that, we strolled through the Farmer’s Market picking up our favorite peanut butter and a bath bomb shaped like a heart. Pretty soon it was time for lunch, and Pop Bob told her, “Today, we’re having dessert first!

She ordered strawberry buttercream ice cream with sprinkles, I had fresh cherry and goat cheese while Bob stuck to his fave, butter pecan.

Little did I know that a hatchet murderer was on the run from a fitness center in Belle Meade and the L’il Pumpkin’s school was on lockdown. Our Sonos was tuned to classical music while the Love Bug and I started a paint-by-numbers present of the Bat Building for the Great Grandparents’ new Nashville apartment. Happy as clams while chaos unfolded just a few miles away in a genteel part of town.

The killer it seems had it out for the man who had fired him from his job a year ago. So it’s a workplace related homicide, which is only slightly reassuring, but there had been signs. For instance, he had been stopped in his car by Metro DC police for coming too close to the White House – and refusing to leave. He’d also referred to himself as “The Sun of God” on his Facebook profile… https://www.tennessean.com/story/news/2018/06/04/police-man-attacked-hatchet-belle-meade-strip-mall/668606002/

The Agatha Christie in me wants to make this more than just a paranoid schizophrenic nightmare for these families. Create intrigue where there is simply raw hate, anger and resentment; still I wonder if one law actually worked. Was the killer unable to buy a gun because of his previous run-ins with the law? Or did he just prefer  to terrorize a neighborhood and inflict pain on his victim?

Our Pumpkin returned home without ever knowing what was happening or why moms and dads seemed especially anxious while picking up their kids early yesterday. He always looks me straight in the eye, saying “I knew you would come,” and that always melts my heart.

IMG_2795

Read Full Post »

Holden 09 005 FB

Serenity in a mountain view

August and September are filled with birthdays in my family. The Bride and my sister Kay share back to back birthdays, I call us Virgo/Libra types (you can count me in later this month) – the Christmas party babies! Happy Birthday to them on this glorious weekend.

These two share more than a couple of dates on the calendar. Kay introduced the Bride to art in her New York City apartment. My sister studied at the Art Student’s League and she also helped to illustrate many medical books during her years working at Mt Sinai Hospital and producing graphic art for the Medical School. With sun pouring through her beautiful Upper East Side window overlooking a garden, the young Bride was given a pencil and a blank canvas along with the love and encouragement of her Aunt Kay.

Painting has been a common thread throughout both their lives. After a long high school day filled with too many AP classes, the Bride would settle into her art class and paint along with beautiful music.  My home is filled with drawings from those days. And Kay’s renditions of our farmhouse in the Berkshires, and our beautiful Welsh Corgis will always decorate our walls.

This meditative time, setting up the instruments of art, the pencils or delicate brushes and turpentine, the smells, the easel outdoors, the time alone to ponder and really see – to see their way into a subject – this bit of creation helped them deal with the everyday stress of school and work. It helped them to slow down.

The Bride sent me an article this week about being busy. http://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2012/06/30/the-busy-trap/?_r=1&

Almost everyone I know is busy. They feel anxious and guilty when they aren’t either working or doing something to promote their work. They schedule in time with friends the way students with 4.0 G.P.A.’s  make sure to sign up for community service because it looks good on their college applications. I recently wrote a friend to ask if he wanted to do something this week, and he answered that he didn’t have a lot of time but if something was going on to let him know and maybe he could ditch work for a few hours. I wanted to clarify that my question had not been a preliminary heads-up to some future invitation; this was the invitation. But his busyness was like some vast churning noise through which he was shouting out at me, and I gave up trying to shout back over it.

The author, Tim Kreider, calls this addiction to busyness a kind of hedge against emptiness, an “existential reassurance.”  We impose it on ourselves and it makes us feel important. After all, if we’re always so busy, how can we ever take time off for self-awareness. He posits that you don’t hear people holding down two jobs with four kids complaining about being too busy, because they’re just plain exhausted. Interesting stuff, this monkey brain!

Surprisingly an old friend simultaneously posted an article about being a distracted parent, about always saying, “Hurry up!” to her child. And I could see how this attraction to being busy can get its start. The child who likes to dawdle, who stops to talk with strangers, who wants to engage with her environment soon learns to make a goal and stick to a time schedule. And if she or he doesn’t, they may be labeled “special” in school…instead of “artist.”

The Love Bug likes to stop for ice cream with her parents. Slowing down is something children can either help us to do, or we can teach them how to be anxious. We’re the adult in this equation, it’s our choice.  photo

Read Full Post »

%d bloggers like this: