Chain of Hearts

"I know you're sad. I'm so so sorry."
These were the words my mother said to me the moment stepped into her home after I'd finished my drive from St. Louis city to Illinois the morning of Tuesday, November 26th.

After a night of unrest and protesting in my neighborhood, I decided to leave early for Thanksgiving. "Leaving early for Thanksgiving" was the rationale I applied, but it did not help me lessen the feeling I'd relinquished something dearly loved without any opposition. It didn't undo the label I earned and given myself, coward.

The words would not come then; they barely come now.

If my heart were to break, I would not be surprised to find a rusted box of tangled chains within. I can feel them: heavy, tarnished and cold chafing together inside me. I can taste the bitter metal in my mouth, I can feel the corrosion on my fingers. These are the chains, twisted into a grotesque Gordian knot, that I wish I could undo. Let me name them:

This one is fear.

This one is anger.

This one is shame.

This one is helplessness.

This one is love.

This one is hope.


This chain is fear.
This is the fear that drove me to Illinois. Not the fear of white. Not the fear of black. Not the fear of law, enforced or broken. I feared the fear of what one fear-filled person can do. Then another. Then another. For fear grows like a disease and anyone can catch it.


This chain is anger.
Searching #Ferguson on Twitter to see if I was safe or not in my home, I saw cold, bald, distilled hatred. Hatred I had never seen before. My stomach lurched. Like a reflex, I suppose it tried to purge the poison I'd read. But it was too late. No retching can unsee the wretched hatred I beheld there.

This chain is shame.
How can a man or woman hate another? How can any one race hate another? How was I so blind? How could I so naively trust that others see what I do--the image of the Almighty? How can I ask someone to trust my fair skin if there's is different? How can I ask that now?

This chain is helplessness.
Lord just--
Lord, just--
Just--
My prayers, so charred and brittle, they break off and fall silent for the Spirit to interpret.

This chain is love.
I cannot fix what I do not feel. I cannot find what I do not see. I love. Help me to love more. Help me to love honestly and boldly. Help me to learn of Your perfect love and teach it and learn it again when I forget. I am so forgetful.

This chain is hope.
These are the magic words my dearly loved student taught me to say.

Her: I'm sorry Miss Martin.
Me: It's ok.
Her: I'm sorry Miss Martin.
Me: I heard you sweetie. It's ok.
Her: (Starting to weep) I said I'm sorry Miss Martin.
Me: Hey...shhhh. It's okay...I'm not angry...I...I forgive you.
Her: Okay. 

It took me far too long to learn to extend this forever forgiveness.

Me: I'm sorry.
Her: It's okay Miss Martin. I still forgive you.

I still forgive you.
I still forgive you.
I still forgive you.

The words of our children. The words of our Savior. The words that He will speak to un-knot the
chains of my heart and then beat them into crown.

Come Lord Jesus and heal our world. Heal my city. It groans for you.

The Fault in Our Stairs

There are so many perks to owning or renting an older home in St. Louis: the charm, the neighborhoods, the older trees, the unique floor plans and architecture.

However, there are a few things inherent to the older homes that are problematic at best, the closets and the staircases.

I have been on the lookout for a wardrobe, since my home has one closet; I found one last weekend. After asking around, I got my friend to agree to help me transport it. We were two girls with a truck and the open road limited only by our upper body strength.

As it turns out that was a pretty great limitation. We got the furniture in the truck, back to my place, and on the porch. I suggested we stop there because my staircase is scary steep. But my friend decided we shouldn't give up before trying.

Tried we did.

First pulling, then scooting and lifting stair by stair. At a certain point, I thought we would very likely win a Darwin award for this effort. "What will I say to Steve if I let Natalie get smushed by a wardrobe before the wedding?" I kept thinking. But it made it up to the landing and there we came to a crossroads. Definitely we make a good team and I credit our communication prowess more than any brute strength.


With a lot of older homes, as I said before, the stairs are problematic. One case has a 360 degree turn from bottom to top. The other has a 90 degree angle and right at this bend we had to stop.

Brainstorming, wiggling, leveraging didn't work. After about 20 minutes we had 2 very viable ideas on how to get the wardrobe up the last 4 steps, but we also agreed we lacked the arm power.

And here it sat.
And sat.
And sat.
And sat.

I've imagined many grim and cartoonish scenarios about it sliding back down the stairs, possibly killing me or my cat, and most certainly smashing everything so if I am not killed I will have to pay for the damages to the home.

I have done extensive cat jumping simulations to test it's precariousness. And it has passed, while the fear has remained. I felt better leaving the house after adding a counter balance Because if there's one thing Autumn has taught me, it's that everything's better with pumpkin on it.

And here it will continue to sit until more friends, of the male gender, come and to help me.

Where Do You Go with Your Artist's Heart?

Tonight I got the very wonderful experience of going to an enchanting studio space in Shaw neighborhood.
First of all, if you are not from St. Louis, you likely now have heard about Shaw neighborhood, the recent violence, protests, vigils and Ferguson October. This story, this coverage, this light shone on our prejudices and hate of my beloved city is heart rending.
And when my heart is rent, I need to condition it and coax it back into being whole.

This need for nurturing led me back to the Shaw neighborhood. [Isn't this how so many things go? You go to the painful place to help heal?] I lived on Shaw, worked at the corner of Tower Grove and McCree, dog sat near the corner of Klemm. For four wonderful years, this was home.

Here I was, at the place I had scouted out months ago not knowing what would be inside. I loved the outside sign, font, and name. If there is a such thing, I had shop window love at first sight, I had it. The only other time that has happened was when I saw Winslow's Home going in. And boy was I ever right about that place. And I was right again.

As it happens this window and once empty space I became smitten with while commuting to work turns out to be an artists studio. Union Studio has several artists' work and wares on display, while also providing them with place a to work. I happened to be there after learning about an open studio night. Show up and make things in this gorgeous space? Yes, please.

I met two of the artists, Mary Beth and Leah and after a little chatting was put to work--exactly what I needed. There was a cooked fiber(I don't recall the name, but it's not indigenous of North America) in a pot that one of the artists, Leah, showed me how to pull apart, reform, and flatten into a shape. She seemed concerned and apologetic for using me in this way. How do you tell a virtual stranger, "I can't control or shape anything else in life, let me have this thing?" Slow, methodical, tactile, this helps free my mind and spirit.

I kept at it for 2 hours. And we talked the sort of talk that you have when you're making, about St. Louis, the art scene here versus Kansas City, our backgrounds, the history of paper making, the art in the room and the stories behind the pieces. I'm not exaggerating when I say everything in Union Studio is art: soap, scarves, paper, the table, etc. Even the wet fibers  the ugly semi sticky masses I was mashing together, flattening into discs will turn into something translucent and beautiful.

It was a relief. To come out of the dark into a bright and inviting space to talk and to learn and to try. I recommend, if not here, that you try this "making" with your friends or find an artists guild and meet them.

Oh and guess what? I'm back to writing again. Surprise.

Recycling at the Mall: Some Tips

A Saturday morning phone conversation with my brother:

Him: What are you doing today. 
Me: Well, I'm going to the mall.
Him: What... Why?
Me: I'm going to go recycle some things.
Him: Oh I knew something had to be up, you wouldn't just go there. What kind of recycling?

I'm so glad he asked. It makes for a perfect setup for this post.  But before I get into what and where to recycle at your mall, let me commend my brother.

He is a very smart man who knows me well.
He knows I would not go to a mall just to shop.
Further he knows I would not use my precious Saturday hours to battle finding a parking spot, looking for pants that just don't fit and spending too much money.

That's not to say I would never go to the mall.  I would and I do. Occasionally.

I would go to the mall to: 

To buy an Auntie Anne's pretzel,
To watch a movie, or
To fix a wardrobe emergency. 


What is a wardrobe emergency?
A wardrobe emergency for instance could be if your strapless bra decides to cease having elasticity in the middle of church, slips around your waist and can't be convinced it is not belt. This is a wardrobe emergency, and it warrants leaving service and driving straight to the mall.

Here I was, instead of the above reasons, taking old things to the mall and leaving them there.

I've been taking bottle caps to the mall for years.
Did you know the plastic used on soda bottles and milk jugs can't be recycled normally?

Aveda collects them and...at this point I have heard 2 different things.  I have been told/ read that
they turn them into new bottle caps for their products. (Now their caps are recyclable so this possibly changed). Saturday I was told they redistribute them to schools to use to make art projects.
Either way, I feel good about it.

Next, is a new one.
Did you know you can recycle old clothes at H&M?  Recently, Julie Johnson photographer/ blogger/ friend from Life Astonished posted about this not so long ago.

I know some of my clothes are so ratty they should not go to Goodwill or any other clothing donation for that matter, and consequently I have held on to them. But no more! H&M wants my old clothes. It wants your old clothes. It wants old clothes.
And if recycling pitted out ripped up clothes and freeing up closet space wasn't enough of an incentive, they also give you an in-store coupon for your effort.

Finally, one you probably know about, is shoe recycling. Look into where you can recycle your old shoes. I typically do a shoe roundup for me and my friends every couple of years and take a trek out to the Nike outlet, but more and more stores want your rubber soles.

See? Malls have something for everyone, even for the wary consumer.

Today's lesson: Do a little research, reduce, reuse and recycle.

How to NOT Wait by the Phone

We've all played the waiting game at one time or another, staring at a land line or cell phone willing it to ring or vibrate. Be it for the doctor calling with test results, the verdict on the job you interviewed for or the fulfillment of the "I'll call you" promise, it's downright uncomfortable.

I've been in each of these scenarios, but the most frequently occurring for me is waiting to see what a guy meant when he said he'd be in touch.

I have come to conclude (without criticism), that often a guy will say "I'll call you"  when he really means "please get out of my car, now." This seems to be the simplest way to get me to go away. I can't say that I fault the men-folk who have promised a call in the past and not honored it. I wonder if they thought I would burst into tears or refused to get out if they had simply said the truth, which is: "Yeah, let's never do this again. Ever." All this translates to is that I never know what will happen after stepping out of the car.

Often I catch myself creating elaborate stories to explain the silence. I try them on one after another like I'm shoe shopping.
Maybe he was caught in a hold up at the bank and is the only hostage still inside.
Perhaps there was a family emergency and he is fine, but grandma? Well...
He's somehow dramatically injured and whispers to a friend that they need to make a call to a girl, but they don't understand his gibberish.
After trying out a few of these scenarios, I know I have gone a bit batty. Perhaps it's a bit romantic to kill off a potential leading man or to put him in harms way, but also it's really morose and twisted.  Essentially this line of thought says, "I like you enough to fantasize your death as a plausible reason for you not contacting me; this collateral damage is superior to thinking you were lying."
Not good.

What I do know is the waiting game is full of wasted time, emotional energy and fantastical deadly stories, and I'd rather just re-channel all of it.

Here's what I've come up to do instead of waiting for technology to beckon me to converse... or not.
You should try some.

1.) Do something you typically put off.

For me that means either painting my nails and or shaving my legs.
How do girls do these things consistently?
Both take way too much time. And wet nails are essentially a prison sentence. I can't not use my hands, so it's always a mess.

2.) Go on a walk and find things.

While on a long ramble, I found this rock. It told me to turn it over,

and I was in a listening mood, so I did,

and I gave it some relief.


3.) Begin a series of hilarious pranks.
This is Yolanda the pregnant (and formally naked) paper mache yogi. I discovered her after she'd been kicked out of her home. Perhaps she was banished for being with child. Since the time I found her, she's been outfitted and passed along from friend to friend.

 

This week she baked cookies for a friend and delivered them in person.

I plan to write Yolanda a genesis story sometime in the near future.


4.) Write a blog post about not waiting by the phone. 

See what I did here? Yeah? Enough said.



5.) Put your phone somewhere where you can't see it and dance.

Really dance. And shoot, sing too. No one will see or hear and you'll feel better because that's how we were wired.

Be who you are, singing and dancing on the earth. When you do that, a phone, ringing or silent is of little importance.

Dance, when you're broken open. Dance, if you've torn the bandage off. Dance in the middle of the fighting. Dance in your blood. Dance when you're perfectly free.” 

― Rumi

Finders Keepers Vol. 2 | Beauty Marks

Lately, I've been seeing graffiti pop up around me. It is everywhere, but what really captures my attention are tiny stenciled pictures in one color. I think of them as beauty marks. Technically, I suppose they are a sign of lawlessness. But they display seems to augment and elevate the object they are put on rather than deface it.
And there is a sense of whimsy about them.
Are they done by the same person? I'd love to know.

I've challenged myself over the last 2 weeks to spot as many as I could.

I accepted the challenge; these are what I've noticed.

1.) Thing One and Thing Two

2.) The Trinity

3.) Rose is a Rose is a Rose

4.) Quoth the Raven

Interestingly, this was the only stencil used on every side of the trash bin. 

5.) Other-worldly

6.) He loves me...?

7.) Man of Thoughts 

By far, this is my favorite find, sandwiched between two unsightly buildings offering quick money for strings attached. 

Did you notice patterns?

• Concrete.
• Monochrome.
• Stenciled.
• Often "framed" by the object  where it has been added. 

• Red stencil art East of Grand and Black is West. (I am not sure if there is a pattern yet. I'll keep you posted.)  

Bright Spot(light) on Joyce Hankins of MoonShadow Press

Last month, I had the honor of sitting down and talking with St. Louis artist Joyce Hankins from MoonShadow Press. Every time we talk, Joyce draws me in with her creativity, intuition, thoughtfulness, and ability to describe her point of view.
Hear what she had to share about her craft and feast your eyes on her thoughtful (and gorgeous!) pieces below.

Photo credit: MoonShadow Press

1.) There are a lot of new things in your life right now, lots of endings and beginnings, what's going on? 
 The main ending is that I just graduated from college! I made it! I learned a lot at Wash.
U. and I have been antsy to get out in the world and put it all to use. So, as far as beginnings,
being a “non-student” artist is a big one. Out of that has come my shop, MoonShadow Press.
Another super exciting thing going on is that I am getting married in August!

2.) Your Etsy shop, Moonshadow Press is an exciting development. How are you liking Etsy? 
 Etsy has been great! I really wanted to start a business where I could make and sell
artwork and Etsy provides a fantastic platform to do so. It is affordable as a seller and has such a
large community around it that there is a lot of potential and opportunity to sell work. It is also
inspiring to see so many other wonderful shops and creatives flourishing.

Photo credit: MoonShadow Press

3.) What is your dream for your shop? 
 Adding little bits of light and hope to people’s lives is the driving force behind my work.
Currently I spend three days a week in studio making artwork, building an online presence, and
doing market research. The other two days I work a part time job as a fine art consultant at my
church. Right now my hope is that MoonShadow Press will become a full time gig. I’m not sure
where it will go or end up, but this is a good place to start!

4.) What art form do you lose yourself in? 
Recently I have spent a lot of time making art about accumulation. I really enjoy repetitive, tedious processes that let my mind wander. I think that is why I love printmaking so much. Things like carving woodblocks or using tiny rollers for monoprints is relaxing and re-energizing to me.

Photo credit: MoonShadow Press

5.) What advice would you give to artists who are just starting out? 
 Considering I am an artists just starting out, I’m not sure how qualified I am to answer. I
will say that for me, I constantly have to fight feelings of discouragement and fear that I won’t
succeed. I am determined to fight the negative thoughts I have though because I know I will
never get anywhere if I at least don’t try. Trying to stay focused on one day at a time is also
something I try to do.

6.) How would you describe your aesthetic? 
I would call my aesthetic Poetic Minimalism. Minimalism is a theory of art which pares
down and reduces imagery to find its most simple form, or essence. I often use geometric and
linear forms, as well as muted color schemes. I also enjoy integrating language and text as well.
Some of my new work for MoonShadow Press is more colorful, but I like keeping the imagery
simple, which relates to a type of visual poetry.

Photo credit: MoonShadow Press

7.) Showing your creations/ creative process to the world can be a vulnerable thing-how does that look for you?
 I have definitely had to grow into being vulnerable, because you are right, art making is
extremely personal. To be honest, I am still learning how to confidently and graciously put my
work out in the world. In school we were told to separate ourselves from our work so that we
didn't take criticism personally. However, I don’t think that works. In fact, I think it does a
disservice to the work. If I spend hours of energy and pour myself into a piece, there is no way I
can then look at it subjectively. All of the emotion that was used to make it alive would turn cold
and distant. Instead, it seems like the lesson to learn is how to control where you find your
identity. If I only find personal value in my art, then criticism of any kind is heart-wrenching.
However, if I remember that I am more than just an artist, then criticism and rejection are not as
threatening. It is really hard though and I constantly have to look to God to remind me of those
things.

Photo credit: MoonShadow Press

8.) What do you do to revive your creative spirit?
 I love it when people ask me this because thinking about my inspiration makes me feel all
bubbly and excited inside! I learned a lot about how to revive my creativity while studying
abroad in Florence, Italy. My professors there told us all the time to “follow your muse” and “go
take a walk” when we didn't know what we wanted to do or were feeling stuck. Those walks and
allowing myself to do what I wanted without feeling stupid or guilty were important. I learned
that there is always something interesting to see when you look for it and that it is ok if your
ideas don’t always work out. Now, when I need inspiration I like to get out of studio and change
scenery. My favorite places to go are the Missouri Botanical Gardens and the St. Louis Art
Museum. I also keep my studio full of things I love. My favorite books are close by, my favorite
pictures and art are pinned up on a bulletin board, and the supplies I like to use the most are
within reach. This creates an encouraging working environment that allows me to easily recharge
or brainstorm.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Looking for more of Joyce? Let me help you.

Her shop is here on Etsy.

Also, Joyce is the featured artist at the upcoming RAW artists' show in August 21st. Tickets are on sale now.


**All images have been posted with written permission by Joyce Hankins of MoonShadow Press.