mesa del sol, new mexico
January 13, 2010
Last year I worked with two fun, new clients — Strada Advertising, and their client, Mesa del Sol, New Mexico. Mds is an exciting new land development in Albuquerque focusing on sustainability, both with the environment and daily life. This is one of several illustrations I did for their new upcoming website and ad campaign. It is the main Town Center and farmers’ market, as envisioned. Once the new site launches, I’ll post the remaining art and link. I’m especially excited to see the animations created with my images!
begin anywhere.
January 5, 2010
New mama or not. Teeny pockets of time or more time than you know what to do with. Scared like crazy or feelin’ brave. Bouncin’ or flyin’. Exhausted or wide awake. Deadline or not. In the studio or in the kitchen. Saying you’re sorry. Saying I love you. Asking for help. Consoling a baby. Writing a book. Not knowing or thinking you do.
Begin anywhere.
These two words were given to me, as a mantra of sorts, years ago, and they have come rolling back into my life lately. Over and over. Begin anywhere. Begin anywhere. Begin anywhere.
9 full moons and a new year.
December 31, 2009
I blinked, and another year happened.
Ten years ago, I traveled to Asia for the first time and had so many adventures in such a short time that those 3 weeks felt like 3 months. Tonight is the ninth full moon to rise over our mountains since the night Tulsi flew into the world. It’s all happened at light speed and yet I’ve breathed so much slower these months, soaking up every giggle and snuggle; every monumental milestone and EVERY single “Mama!” So many new moments as a mama, that I swear, in the moment, feel like they are tatooed into my being and perfectly etched into my memory. I know details will fade in time, but the essence IS changing me. I am me, different from yesterday. She’s the best thing that’s every happened to me. Patrick says the same thing.
One thing I love about being a mama is the continual change. She keeps me on my toes, alert and dancing. She’s such an appreciate soul, too, clapping at my every effort to amuse, support, and even console. And I LOVE that I get to know her better than anyone; that she looks to me to find creative solutions to each new phase of our learning and growing together.
Looking back, I’m pretty amazed, too, at everything I’ve somehow been able to accomplish during this time. Those first four months were tough! FULL ON. You just don’t know until you know. No extra time and no energy even if there was. Even though I was totally blissed out, I remember wondering, how will I ever have time for my art again? But we’ve since found our rhythm, and sleep and art and yoga have slowly found spaces in my days again. My next kid’s book is (just about) finished, and I started writing new stories. It’s fun wondering what book will come next. I haven’t made any ‘personal art’, as in just-for-me-art (except in my head), but I’ve been lucky that my books and some jobs have felt like it. Patrick and I are working every day now on finishing our book Chai Pilgrimage. We are giddy about seeing it come more to life, and excited about our adventure in self-publishing. I also recently began collaborating with two women on a “dream project” that we will pitch to publishers in the new year. I look forward to sharing several illustration projects from 2009 as soon as they are released, too. I may even be partnering with a new agent for my licensing work — fingers and toes crossed – someone I’ve worked with and respect a ton! I hope it works out, as I think it will be a great relationship.
So much I am looking forward to in this next year!
And blogging. Yeah…I hope to do more! It’s pretty awesome, realizing the beautiful relationships I have with friends in my life who I met solely thru this creative blog community. Thanks everyone, for playing here and on your blogs.
I hope you are all enjoying the STUNNING + Magnificently powerful FULL blue moon tonight! May its magic bring you whatever it is you need. I’m going outside to soak and let go into the new year. Peace and blessings. And Happy New Year!
happy solstice!
December 21, 2009
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…
Help — 10 copies of My Travelin’ Eye to give away!
December 18, 2009
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!!
shadow puppeteer.
December 14, 2009
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.
one, TALL sky
December 5, 2009
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.
Remembering her.
November 26, 2009
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.
mama india, wandering child – blog
November 22, 2009
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!!!
homegirl.
November 3, 2009
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!
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