happy solstice!

Today may have been the shortest day of the year, but it was incredibly bright and beautiful. The soltice(s) are two of my favorite days of the year. I’m grateful, as always, for the excess sunshine here! And…a long, awesome yoga session this morning, sprouts of kale, arugula, and spinach growing so sweetly in the greenhouse, a gorgeous hike, blue mountains and a vast, heavenly-white landscape, a gathering of good friends, a cozy house, and the best family in the world.

Wishing you so much beauty and peace now and always!! AND lots of sunshine…

Posted in everyday | 4 Comments »

Help — 10 copies of My Travelin’ Eye to give away!

I need your help. My publisher, Henry Holt, just sent ten copies of my book, My Travelin’ Eye, that I need to find homes for. Perfect timing for the holiday season! I’m looking for ten places to send them to: children’s hospitals who have libraries, a shelter or community center, special ed or art therapy programs, maybe your son or daughter’s ophthalmologist’s office, etc. Basically, a variety of places where a lot of kids are likely to discover and enjoy it. Please leave your suggestion in a comment below, and if a lot more than ten suggestions pile up, I’ll keep them for the future. Thanks!!

Posted in my travelin' eye, school visits + events | 15 Comments »

shadow puppeteer.

Mama, Tulsi and Oso survived 9 plus 2 days without Papa. We actually had a beautiful and fun time. HOWEVER, we all voted that Papa can’t leave for that long again. Ever. Life is just MORE beautiful and fun with him.

Posted in everyday | 3 Comments »

one, TALL sky

It’s dark and still in the house. Flames are dancing wildly in the wood stove and a tea candle is dim on the altar. Oatmeal-raisin-walnut-chocolate-chip cookies are still warm on the stove and in my belly. Tulsi’s sweet sleeping breath is just a few feet away. I can see a giant moon creeping up over the dark mountain ridge; it’s glow will soon spill into our little house and cast grand shadows on the walls of an angel, a canopy of enormous, pear-shaped leaves, and a chicken man on a stove pipe.  It is frigid outside and snow-covered, but it’s cozy in here. I am free floating in random circles and sways in the hammock while I type. Per Tulsi’s request, we recently traded out our rocking chair for a hammock, and I love it.

I appreciate the comments on my last post. Thank you, for honoring my Grandma’s life, too.

I’ve been feeling quiet this week; new fallen snow will do that to a person’s mind, especially here in the mountains. I feel reflective with the end of another year (and another book).  I’ve been letting my head empty so new ideas can fly in, and there will be space for them to come to life.

I am addicted to the shaky stillness I sense when staring into the middle of a clear, deep New Mexico sky; a dizzy excitement of not knowing whether I’m down, looking up, or up, looking down — a weightlessness and freedom of swinging into the realm of infinite possibilities. I feel a creative, productive winter coming…

A vertical panorama on our hike, Thanksgiving Day, 2009, Lama Mountain.

Posted in everyday | 10 Comments »

Remembering her.

On Saturday, November 14th, one day following her ninety-third birthday, my Grandma finally let go of her ailing body, her fragmented mind, and her long full life as Josephine Scherer. She’s at peace now and free of suffering. I wasn’t particularly close to my grandma, but I loved her and always had this little desire to be closer to her. I missed her memorial Mass in St. Louis which ended in a filled church singing a slightly remixed Frank Sinatra song, “She” did it “her” way. Laying in bed with Tulsi tonight, my mind was flooded by silent films and stills of distant, nearly forgotten moments I shared with her and stories I know of her life. I wanted to take time to remember her. To honor her life.

My Grandma is holding my Aunt Michele. My mom is standing on the picnic table at the very top in the back.

Remembering…

…her voice — i’ll never forget her voice. it was the same when she was old as it was when she was a young mother: click the arrow to listen to Grandma’s voice

…the featherbeds she made for sleepovers in her front living room and the peculiar and somewhat scary nun-doll that stared at us from the corner coffee table. It had thick, rubbery ankles and opened her eyes when upright, and closed her eyes only most of the way when lying down. My Aunt Georgia was a nun for a brief moment in time. I don’t think Aunt Georgia wanted the doll anymore, and looking back, I think Grandma thought the doll kept us kids in line thinking a nun was always watching us.

…she lived alone, and after a visit, when we’d drive away she’d stand on her front porch and wave until we turned left on Meremac Street and couldn’t see her anymore. i always wondered if she was lonely there all by herself

…her phone number on Gustine Avenue..664-7673…even though she hasn’t lived there in years and years

…that one summer day when I was staying with Grandma Kostecki (who lived just down two alley ways); i think i was ten years old. she sent me to Pevely Dairy store to buy a half gallon of neapolitan ice cream. although it was in the opposite direction, i first walked to Grandma Scherer’s house to share some with her. i still remember how that really surprised her.

…how i added her name to mine in 7th grade: jennifer suzanne josephine kostecki, not because i thought she’d appreciate it, but because i admired her strength and determination and wanted to remember that as i went thru life.

…how she filled her drawers and cabinets with restaurant-sized packets of ketchup, fruit jellies and mcdonald land cookies, just in case she had to live thru another Great Depression. (i attribute this observation to me learning how to skillfully live thru art school with little money.)

…my mom owned a steering wheel and stick shift leather wrapping business — a birthday gift from my father one year. the summer I turned 16, I worked in my mom’s factory alongside Grandma, 40 hours a week. she sewed the knobs, i worked out the wrinkles in the leather. we shared a building with a dry cleaning business, and some days it would be over a hundred degrees inside. Grandma was my mom’s best sewer and she never complained of the heat, ever. i worked hard that summer, not only for my mom, but because i knew Grandma was watching.

…how once, a handsome priest from South Africa charmed her with his beautiful accent and word of God. i think he softened her heart a little.

…after retiring from two jobs (a bank and a department store), she was the “hostess with the mostess” at McDonald’s where she gave young kids free kiddie ice cream cones after she taught them to shake her hand while looking her in the eye. she walked and rode the bus there every day until she retired in her mid-eighties

…the twinkle in her eyes and how she’d smile and look to the side and down when you told her how nice she looked

…how her long fingers moved like graceful spider legs crocheting countless, multicolored afghans blankets

…the enormous tin of sorted popcorns next to her ‘lazy-boy’ that grew stale throughout the year because she ate it so slowly

…how she pinched my cheeks when she kissed me, every time we visited, both at hello and goodbye

…how she always said what was on her mind

…the time she said a really hurtful thing to me (which i now can understand, since i am a mother. it didn’t have anything to do with me but her worries as a mother), and how i carried it with me for years

…how i always longed for her approval

…at her 80th birthday party (a huge ‘to do’ in the Ozarks–Grandma LOVED her birthdays) how she apologized for those hurtful words from so many years before

…how much sweeter she got

…the day i showed her my book, how my dad explained that her granddaughter was a published author and how she smiled

…her famous salsa she made with her award-winning, mammoth tomatoes and how when she couldn’t make it any longer, my mom did, and still does

…the way her hands began to shake eventually and her mind faded

…stories of how when her husband died, she had 11 children to raise by herself. she had to learn to drive and worked nearly every day from then until her mid eighties. she always claimed she hated kids and yet it was her dharma. she raised those 11 kids, and in many ways, helped raise her 29 grandkids who are now raising her 31 great grandkids.

…i learned just a few months ago from my mom that Grandma was a ballroom dancer and a BELLY DANCER! i’m still in shock. i’ve secretly always wanted to take belly dance lessons.

…the red tint in my brown hair that shows in the sunlight and how i got that red from her

…how my mom has her mother’s wit, frugality and beauty

…how i thought she’d live past a hundred

One of my midwives told me that we all have a special, physical tie to our maternal grandmothers because when they carried their daughters — our mothers — in their womb, they were also carrying us — the seeds that would become us — because baby girls are born with all their eggs already inside. I love that. Thanks, Grandma. For carrying me and for just being you. I’m thankful for knowing you and all you taught me and will continue to teach me. I love you.

Posted in everyday | 22 Comments »

mama india, wandering child – blog

Photographer (and Mama to Baby Arun) Rachel Movitz recently commissioned me to create a blog banner for her. She, her husband and baby Arun are headed back to India tomorrow for 3 months! Despite my book and other work deadlines, I snuck it into my late night schedule because I have had several dreams lately that we went back to India, too, with Tulsi (!). I am “too” excited for them! Since we don’t have plans anytime soon to go back, I’ll be living wildly thru her adventures documented on her blog, Mama India, Wandering Child.

I wanted the banner to have a fun, childlike feel along with India street, circusY life. India is an amazing place — especially for photographers and artists. Endless inspiration. I feel like I could have worked on this for a long time, adding more and creating different versions. Therefore, it was nice to have a quick turnaround on it so that I couldn’t keep noodling it. I think it turned out fun though, and it got me even more jazzed to focus on our Chai Pilgrimage book this winter.

Safe and beautiful travels you three!!!

Posted in illustration, india | 9 Comments »

homegirl.

It took no time at all to instantly fall back into our quiet life in the woods after our 2 week Tulsi-Tour. No need to go anywhere. Not for a long time. I used to feel slightly embarrassed about the fact that it is common for me to be at home for eight to ten days in a row. I guess I felt like I was a loner, like that isn’t all that healthy. Now I just feel grateful that I have the option TO spend so much time at home, in nature, with my family and my art and surrounded by so much beauty.

Traveling always makes me appreciate home even more than I already do. I am used to breathing fresh mountain air and that flavor of pine needles in my morning walks that make me feel like I’m camping. I forget that not everyone (okay, very few of us) lives with a chai wallah and therefore gets homemade spicy chai made with milk that Joy milked that very morning. And water…now I know I sound spoiled when I say this: it was VERY difficult to be away from our yummy well water. Then there’s sunlight…starlight…and wide, open skies… Yeah, I’m happy to be home.

And our trip was good! Got to see so many dear friends and family. Stood up with my beautiful sister on her wedding day and met my sweet niece for the first time. Went for long walks under huge maples and oaks and birches, raining red, orange and yellow leaves. Tulsi had a great adventure, too. She was a stellar little traveler. She loves people, and I especially love watching her sense of humor come to light. She also gained some new ‘tricks’ : clapping (with her hands AND feet), making fishy faces, and  “Ba, ba, ba, ba, ba, ba, ba!” It is the sweetest thing to watch her practice these 3 things over and over and over, even upon waking at 3 am, under a full moon.

I had a super sweet visit with my friend Kelly. She cooked up the best meal I’ve had in forever…baked carrots and potatoes grabbed fresh out of her own dirt, topped with fresh goat cheese and pesto made of her arugula, watercress and sorel, on a bed of brown rice, and sided with sauteed carrot greens and nettles. Can you say food orgasm for the vegetarian? Kelly’s art always inspires me, and her lifestyle has me in a beautiful tizzy…she and her husband are truly living the homestead life, a life that Patrick and I keep striving more towards, one of self-sufficiency, gentleness and mindfulness. Because even though we do live some of this way, we can live it so much more still (I’ll write more on that soon.) Thanks so much, Kelly, for such a sweet day walking your land and counting fish and froggies with Miss Tulsi!

We also got to visit with my friend Betsy and her husband and talk about the wanderings and love of making kids’ books. When you spend so much time alone as an illustrator and writer, it is incredibly refreshing to share with others who do the ’same’ thing, especially while swooshing thru 8 inch drifts of crunchy fallen leaves in search of a castle. I also got to spend time with more author/illustrator friends, Laura, Jenny and Shane who always fill me up. I feel recharged and am swimming in a sweet current!

Posted in everyday | 9 Comments »

after while, crocodiles.

Posted in everyday | 7 Comments »

learning to crawl.

Today I was watching Tulsi practice all the motions that will eventually add up to crawling (lifting her whole trunk up high, pivoting 360 degrees on her belly by walking with her hands, inching backwards, and figuring her weight on one knee pushing up with all her littleBIG might). I cheered her on in my authentic, dorky way, despite her frustrated grunts+whines. And I didn’t stop til I got a big smile. Not a smile because her mama is goofy, but a smile that she is happy with what she is achieving.

And it hit me. I’m learning to crawl, too. I can’t really say just how much that realization helps me.

It’s been a slow and challenging process trying to do my art while being a full time mama. The first 3 months were easy. I just didn’t try. I was in blissville. Still am, but the past 3 months I have been trying to do both because, I have to and I want to (creating makes me insanely giddy and feel alive). But it’s hard! Before Tulsi was born, I never stopped. I took on loads of work and did my own art, too. I was super productive. I can still hear Patrick saying, “you know, you won’t be able to do all this when we have a baby.” I ignored him and thought (naively, although I never said it out loud) that I would and could keep doing it all. Ha.

Um, it’s not that easy. Maybe some of you already know this. Or maybe it’s just harder for me. A friend told me once that she felt like she “hung herself up on a coat hanger for her daughter’s first 2 years.” I don’t want to do that. I know it wouldn’t be healthy for me or Tulsi. She needs me to be me. And so do I. I do feel happy that when I’m with Tulsi, I truly am with her. My mind isn’t trying to do anything else. I LOVE being a mama. Somehow, I’ll find the balance between the two.

Crawling does lead to walking. This I know. And when you can walk, you can soon run. And then skip. And hop and jump and bounce. Tulsi’s learning curve is a great mirror for me. Thanks, girl.

I also have this enormous new found respect for time. I think Patrick and I both do. It’s amazing what one can do in small windows of time when it is viewed as rare. It also makes me realize what is most important to me.

It’s after 11pm. Just a few feet away, three pairs of sleeping breaths sing inhale, exhale, and I get lost for a few minutes in their sweetness.

I did finish another painting today. Only one left for my book. After that, the cover, endpapers and title page. I may be crawling to the finish, but I think that is a fine way to finish.

Posted in everyday | 9 Comments »

little bird.

it’s such an awesome, sweet, beautiful miracle how these shadows gave birth to the one above…

Posted in Tulsi Lila, everyday | 7 Comments »