Patrick woke me up this morning whispering, “Jenny, go outside into the tub and watch the sunrise. It’s amazing.” This is a glimpse of that beauty — as much as my camera could take in.

Upon stepping outside, fifteen hens came speed-waddling down the mud-frozen garden trail to give a cheerful “good morning” and Little Red Rooster jumped up onto the gate and crowed his own humble salutations. I love my chickens. I can attribute countless smiles to their company. It was warm (for January) with the kind of breeze that reminds me of just before a Midwest thunderstorm. (It’s interesting how a lot of nostalgia I feel for places and periods of my life are directly related to weather/seasons/nature). While I soaked, the clouds shapeshifted from a whale to two ducks to an elephant to a dragon. If I looked away for 5 seconds, the sky was already telling a different story. During the first few months after Tulsi was born, this was my morning ritual after she nursed at 5 am, to step outside and submerge in water and watch the sky. I have been staying up late in my studio for so long and sleeping in and missing this, I thought, my absolute favorite moment of the day. This year, I want to breathe this in more.

This morning I was remembering how refreshing the sunrise feels. It is such a magical moment, so pure, such awe. It makes me feel at peace. Soft yet strong, grounded, content. And intoxicated…like when I read Rumi or Hafiz’s poems inspired purely by their love for the Divine. Do you know what I mean? Perhaps something else makes you feel this same way. Another poet or musician or place…

With the new year (a magnified sunrise), I’ve been giving a lot of thought to where I’d like to place my attention, personally and with my art, what I’d like to practice deeper, what I’d like to invite more into my life. And after two friends shared this book with me recently, this is what resonates… to practice mindfulness. Daily. I can appreciate where I am very mindful and also where I’m not. I want to “work” at it. In the smallest tasks and in bigger goals, in playing, in mothering, in partnering, in conversations, in words I choose and how I release them, in relating to friends and clients, in moving my body, in creating art and in writing stories, in loving, and in prayer.

It sounds so simple here, and yet I know it is the most profound practice. It is also the perfect thing for my art with my wild-doer mind that can get distracted by too many ideas or feel overwhelmed or watching others doing super-human things (hee). Really, it always comes back to not being in the present moment.

And what else for 2012? …so I can look back and reflect next January… to spend as much time as possible OUTside playing with my family, to grow and preserve more food, to bring a major project to completion, and to write and practice yoga daily for even just 5 minutes. There. I wrote it. YES, yes, YES!

Cheers to all of you for a soulful 2012 and to whatever it is you are practicing, loving, creating.

Hello out there! Anyone still listening? :) After a fun, whirlwind month-long book tour, including 12 bookstore and library events, 25 presentations at schools, 8 cities, and 48 hours in NYC, this mama and daughter are HAPPY to be back home with Papa Bear, in our sweet world full of hidden funny faces and magical blue skies. Tulsi is all about making pictures on ANY surface. Even I am her canvas! Ha. Yes, that is my leg below. And the drawing on the right is Tulsi’s portrait of me wearing 2 hats with a ball on top, and the colors to the upper right are “a wild rainbow rain”!

More posts coming about the past month!

Here’s an update:

After the smoke and wild winds left, the bears came. Patrick and I discovered our “roars” and have managed to scare many away (thank goodness, our 17 chickens have survived, too! There were some close calls). Tulsi has been developing her chicken wrangling skills and loves to watch the chicks play tomato soccer — quite a thrilling event on our littl’ homestead!

We have been blessed with another bountiful garden season that is in its most magical-stage right now. Canning season is very near. I am recruiting MY mama again this year.

I have “sorta” taken a photography course with Andrea Scher, only life got in the way of that, too. Still, I have been taking more photos than ever and learning a lot from her course emails. Just looking at the endless photos participants have posted has inspired me and pushed me to think differently when holding a camera. Andrea rocks! I highly recommend her course. This is a photo of Tulsi dancing with peacock feathers in the peacock yard at Baba’s house (the temple).

Other than my family, what has filled my summer mostly, is goddesses and mama-meditations and research and collage and stories and collaboration. I’ve been painting my heart out on an oracle deck, coming your way Spring, 2012! It has been a challenging and beautiful project on many levels that I will share about in the future. I’m nearing the end and looking forward to seeing it come to life AND for a much-deserved, family vacation. Feels like I’ve been running a perpetual marathon. I haven’t painted this much since finishing Same, Same but Different.

And so, the countdown now is 30 days! THIRTY days until my new book is released! Whew! And a really exciting thing just happened — I found out Same, Same but Different got into the Original Art Show at the Society of Illustrators in NYC! I am happily in shock and feel so honored :). OK, actually, I cried when I found out because I was in awe reading the list of illustrators who are in the show (you can download it on the show’s link page) — SO many of whom I adore and respect. Eric Carle, Maurice Sendak, Tommy de Paola, Giselle Potter, Calef Brown, David Wiesner, to only name a few — really, I could name them ALL. I can’t wait to see their art in person in NYC in October and visit with my editor and friends. I know it will inspire me like crazy.

I will be posting a schedule soon of book events this Fall in NM, Colorado and the Midwest, so stay tuned.  I hope to see some of you who live in those cities!

Hope your summer has been beautiful!

The bottom photo was taken by Colin Dullaghan back in October, 2010 — paradise on a clear, Fall day! The top photo was from last week.

Ahhh, it’s been awhile. There is a big fire in New Mexico, about an hour and a half south of us, and the winds have filled our valley with smoke. So many people and animals have been affected, as well as sacred sites. We are in such a drought. The sky wants to rain so badly, the clouds drum and echo their music across the mesa, but their rain evaporates before ever touching the earth…there are some 10-second sprinkles that Tulsi and I were lucky to dance in, naked. Yeah, that is the cool thing about living in the mountains on private land with few “surprise” visits from neighbors.

The smoke was so thick last week that we packed up and headed north to higher ground, good friends and barefoot picnics in the grass. One surprising and comforting thing was the answer to the question, “If our house burns down, what would we want to take with us?” Our answer as we looked around our house, very little.

I’m also in the THICK with my card deck project and was kinda exhausted, so a forced, otherwise impossible spontaneous roadtrip, was re-energizing. And the “distance” was just what I needed to gain perspective. I’m pretty happy about it so far and am having fun. This deck is a “dream job” in a lot of ways. I love the project and there is no art direction. This is rare — nearly unheard of in the publishing world. It feels both empowering (to be trusted) and scary (to have such a wide open sky). Although I wish I had more time, I see how I’m being “pushed” and am growing a lot from creating a large number of pieces in such a short amount of time. And, it is fun how inspiration (for other projects) seems to pour like monsoons when I am painting this much. A little glimpse…

I’ll post a garden update soon! Every year is different and full of curve balls and new learning. As for Tulsi, I love that she loves the garden and chickens and dirt as much as ever.

So we made a mask and she sat in front of a mirror on the floor holding it up, yelling, “CAAAAWW, CAAAAAAWWW!” for fifteen minutes. She reminded me how much I love corrugated cardboard and tape.

“Living simply isn’t necessarily simple…you strive for understanding what sacred is…”
from 23 Feet, a film by Allie Bombach

We’ve been racing against the clock, preparing a garden once again — and attempting to plant an entire year of food in a teeny window of time — and grow it within a wildly short, 90-day season. It’s been kinda crazy around here, trying to “get it all done”.

I heard this quote and related 1000 times over and feel especially grateful for sweet, simple moments like this recent one to PAUSE from the races of keeping up. An evening of letting go of all thoughts and worries and schedules. Drumming, singing, a droning didgeridoo, bird whistles, flutes, kazoos made from gourds. Bathing in dusk at a sacred site. Dancing around, within the circle of sound with Tulsi on our shoulders or in our arms. It’s good to know what is sacred to us. It keeps everything in perspective. Feeling so thankful for Patrick and Tulsi and community and family. Feels like we are in a super-period right now of creating, being challenged, learning and growing.

Do you remember making mud pies when you were little? Or just sitting in a mud puddle and painting tribal-like designs on your face and arms and legs? And the feeling of cool, squishy wet mud and how it makes you seriously HAPPY?

Tulsi and I know. So what would be a more perfect day together than taking a women’s adobe mud brick workshop? A couple weeks ago, our very inspiring and talented friend Alice Ko hosted a class. She is a mama, designer, architect, and super green, earth buildin’ goddess. And a total purist, building with only natural materials.

She held the adobe-day on her and her husband Sam’s land — a gorgeous acre that they are caretaking and sculpting in a unique way. They aren’t building one home for their family of four. Alice’s vision is a group of small buildings that will inspire a life of outdoor ‘being’. It’s awesome, too, that Sam and Alice are building it together — by hand — brick by brick, rock by rock, strawbale by strawbale. Their land will consist of a kitchen-house — with a star-observatory loft for after dinner constellation gazing (!), a sleep house, a greenhouse, and more, perhaps. WOW, right? Might not be everyone’s idea of ideal, but I am so into it!

Back to the mud play…around the world, people have been building houses from earth for…ever. Clay dirt is abundant, STRONG, and a sun-heat magnet. Here in the dry, hot high desert, many houses are made of mud, including the Taos Pueblo which was built between 1000 and 1450 AD. I’ve been wanting to learn how to make mud bricks, and when Patrick talked about ordering some to create the central, circular bed in our greenhouse, I answered, “no way, you can’t buy them. let’s make them!” A week later, my friend Alice invited me to her workshop.

First, we built mud brick frames (one is really all you need) and Alice shared all about mud, and building with natural materials. Then, we learned the simple art of “baking” bricks. Mix your dry ingredients together — clay dirt and sand — in a wheel barrel. Create a ‘bowl’ in the center. Add water, and mix into a mud pudding. Slide it out onto a tarp and stomp to your heart’s content with bare feet. Sprinkle some cut straw on top for tensile strength, and squish some more. (Be sure to sing and dance, too — Tulsi’s special, added ingredients.) Then, check to make sure it’s just the right consistency. Wet the inside of your brick form just as you would butter a bread pan, and start packing in mud with your hands. When it’s packed and full, wipe the top of your brick with a wet rag, and pull your frame straight up and off. And, wal-lah! A 4x10x14 inch mud brick weighing 30 pounds that is ready to bake in the hot sun-oven! Alice gave us a trouble-shooting guide to test the strength of our bricks after they dry. Tulsi loved helping, as you can see.

Below are a few pictures from Alice and Sam’s land: 1. Sam creates the building’s foundations by dry stacking rock and filling in with cobb (a wetter mud mixture that you can use as mortar or when you are making more curvy walls and forms). The bricks are stacked on top of the foundation, up off the ground. 2. Their greenhouse. They are building the West and East walls with mud bricks and the north side with strawbales (for insulation — while mud bricks attract heat and store it to release at night, they make poor insulation, so a combination of natural materials is best for a building).

Alice used to work as an architect in an office. She was frustrated that she didn’t understand the building part of what she was drawing on paper and wanted to get her hands dirty. Her boss encouraged her to be at the sites, which is where she was inspired to build with natural materials instead. I agree 1000% with Alice — building with natural materials, and with your own hands, is not only really exciting, but very feminine and feels so, um, “natural”. Hee. She is enjoying the experimental part of building, too — the mixing and matching of natural materials, to best suit their needs, climate, and land. She also shared the problems that occur when a structure is made with natural material and then covered with man-made materials (like adobe covered with cement stucco). The two don’t mix well. This day has really got Patrick and me excited to experiment, too, and to dream.

AND, is this playground AMAZING, or what???! Alice designed and built it with adobe bricks and cob and said it’s a continued work-in-progress. She has two very happy girls. I want to build one for Tulsi!

Of course my list is growing of things Patrick and I want to make! Here is an orno (mud oven) our friend Jon Jaques built. So beautiful, right? He baked us asparagus pizza in it last month. OH MY! And, he said he’d help me build one. Wooohoo! He built the base out of adobe bricks and the oven from sculpted willow branches and cob. YUM.

And, so I don’t get too distracted with my ambitious mud-makin desires, of course we’ll start with the center bed in our greenhouse so Patrick can plant his tea bush and medicinals and tropical fruits. Here is a photo from this morning in the dome. I’ll share more as we build it.

Life is just so…awesome. Hope you are feeling just as happy this Spring! What is inspiring you lately?

Tulsi, I never questioned whether we gave you the “right” name or not. I always knew it was perfect. You are a rare and beautiful spirit. I see the Divine every time I look into your eyes and heart! I have treasured every moment of your first 2 years with us, watching who you are today and who you are becoming. Thank you for taking my hand and showing me how to draw flowers (again) for the first time. For pointing out the fish swimming in the orange clouds at sunset. For giving me spontaneous love, always a hug AND a kiss, never just one. For looking me in the eyes. For asking to hold my hand. For insisting on long walks in the woods when I’ve been inside for too long. For inviting me to lay down on the ground so close next to you to say, “HI BUG!” at the long-legged, glistened winged insect walking by. I am so excited for who I have become, and who I am becoming, too, because of this gift of being your Mama. I love you all the way up to your toes!

This week was a tough one. We all have Spring colds and felt pretty miserable. On the positive side, Tulsi and I got 24-7 snuggle time for about 5 days straight. :) Today we all began to feel a wee bit more like our normal selves. This afternoon Tulsi and I sat side by side, drawing for a big deadline tomorrow. She sensed I felt a bit cloudy and stuck, maybe because she heard me say, “this is awful. Mama can’t draw.” And she replied, “See Mama?” and proceeded to take me on a ride through one of her magical drawings.

Thanks, Tulsi. It was JUST what I needed. No fear. Don’t think. Just play.

When she was finished, I said, “WOW! Your drawing makes me so happy.” And really, I was amazed and totally inspired. And she’s just turning 2. It’s only just begun.

I went back to drawing, and as I began, Tulsi said, “WOW, MAMA! Tulsi Happy!” Click here or on the drawing to watch her demo on my Facebook page.

- discovering again how much i love doodling and drawing letters with odd things like icicles and food coloring, candles dipped in ink, henna, carved potato prints, lemon juice and fire, and stencils inked with ragged old ink pads

- goin’ with the energy of late nights and long naps and patrick’s super yummy chai and making major progress on the chai book…!…and holding an art raffle here.

- one, two or three fancy tea parties a day with my favorite little studiomate and fun mama-tulsi projects like sewing a kitty cat doll (see tea party pic below) when tulsi realizes no kitty cats live in our house and says we should make one

- super fun project development on two new alphabets for Oopsy Daisy

- frequent walks around the stuppa and “play” visits inside the stuppa with “Boo-daa”

- playing with our hens Frida, Frannie, Rosie and Posey (who are just so much more fun since the roosters left the scene…Roo-roo-Diego sadly gave up his life in a brave fight with a dog to save his ladies…and the second-fiddle rooster who we thought was a hen suffered from too many rooster-hormones so our neighbors cooked him up in a winter stew…we are vegetarians)

- gathering eggs daily, some still so warm, and baking quiches and fritadas and burritos and muffins and breads and cookies and french toast, and planning to paint eggs to hang from a tree in the Spring

- staring into my almost-two-year-old sweet girl’s magical eyes and following her lead — spontaneous yoga in the greenhouse, ring-around-the-rosie in the bath tub, and “fancy” band-aides from patterned fabric scraps and ribbons for countless booboo’s

- planting onion seeds and swimming thru countless seed catalogs and making garden lists in my head

- finding endless inspiration in friends like Rhett and mama bloggers like Maya

- embarking on a wild, dreamy and slightly scary ride of illustrating a tarot deck for a great publisher

- and constantly whispering “thank you” for this beautiful sweet family of mine