Walking Boots

I'm working "in the studio" this week

and sharing a sneak peek

along with these lovely artists:

I keep backing up my Etsy store re-opening date

because I recently sold out {YAY!} my art,

and it is taking me longer to build up some inventory than I expected.

{Joyful challenge!}

This week I submitted an application

to the South Dakota Governor's Conference on Tourism.

A big gulp, deep breath, and sending it off it the mail

with knee-knocking, heart-thumping courage.

Even putting a box in the mail

can seem daunting!

Butterflies in the stomach ~ excitement and vulnerability.

So, today, I have been working on this piece

that I am loving.

Loving the themes

of

stepping out,

journey,

adventure.

I'm playing with my new {old} alphabet set

that I bought from GASP studio in Spearfish.

L.o.v.i.n.g. it!

And step-by-step

building up a new body of artwork.

All new.

My new target date to re-open my Etsy shop is now October 10.

What are your goals for October that you are working at step-by-step?

Waves of Nostalgia

This week a package arrived in the mail

from Homer, Alaska,

from my Aunt Janet.

Aren't packages and handwritten

notes that come in the mail

still such a thrill?

I'd much rather have a package or letter

that is handwritten

than any e-correspondence.

I knew this would be special.

Things that come from Aunt Janet

are especially meaningful

because they usually belonged to my Grandma Marj.

This week was no exception.

Three precious little collections were wrapped at the top:

cake/jello molds that I remember sweet treats,

bird figurines that remind me of our connection through birdwatching,

Christmas cookie cutters I remember playing with,

tracing on paper and decorating with crayons,

and then in the bottom of the box . . .

My Grandma's sketches and watercolors

dated 1938,

from her Applied Art class.

Just last week,

some of her drawings had come to mind

and I wondered where they ended up.

This is so meaningful to me

at this time in my life...

the month of my one year anniversary

of being in business as an artist.

Perhaps more meaningful

than it would have been any other time.

I will be looking for the perfect frames

for my future studio/study/office

and maybe

my kitchen too.

There is something sacred

about things created by the

hands of a loved one.

Especially after they are gone.

Sacred

because of the

hands,

the love,

the life,

that was here,

that was shared.

I held her hand,

that sketched and painted, 

when she slipped away from my life.

But sweet memories will always be with me.

Sturgis Area Arts Council Artist of the Month

About 2 years ago,

I had some art ideas in my mind that involved

some unique ways to share my photographs

with a message.

I had taken my kids to the library

and noticed a local photographer's work displayed.

I mentioned to my son

on the way home

that perhaps someday

my art would be in the library.

He was so excited and encouraging

and said many kind and believing words.

So I "tucked" the idea

"in my hip pocket"

for the future.

A little over a year ago,

I started experimenting with collage

incorporating my photography

as a focal point.

It was a bit like scrapbooking,

only on a piece of wood to hang on the wall or set on a shelf.

I knew that I liked it.

And that is truly what matters.

But what surprised me

was how quickly others responded.

So here we are celebrating as a family.

As I tried to think of a way to display a large number of photographs,

my rancher husband's creative wheels started turning . . .

He made me two cedar fenceposts

and

I almost cried.

Because of the love of my husband,

and how perfectly it fit my heart and vision

of sharing my love for this life.

I carried the idea of "story on a string"

that I used for my photos

to also share some of my writing and blogs

about my family as well as the story behind some of my art pieces.

My art is all about

honoring God

 and what He has done in me and for me

. . . especially setting me free

from thoughts that robbed me of joy,

and honoring this life that He has given me

right here, right now

with this man

and this family.

It is so rich and fulfilling

to see it expressed

in a way that is true to me and what I love.

If you get a chance to stop in,

my art & photography will be on display

at the

Sturgis Public Library

until January 30, 2012.

What a great experience . . .

Joining Jennifer & inspirational creative women here:

Remembering Mr. Monahan

Sad.  Simply sad

to lose my high school art and photography teacher

Mr. Tom Monahan.

I've been reading post after post on facebook

from so many of his former students.

Legacy.

That's what comes to mind.

Here's the legacy he left in my life . . .

When I was a senior in high school,

I signed up for the Junior Miss Pageant

because, well, it was on my "ought-to" list.

But I was SO worried and anxious the whole time

because I didn't think I had a "talent" to perform.

Whining and lamenting about this problem

{that I voluntarily signed up for}

Mr. Monahan gave me this idea.

Using black lights and neon pastel chalks,

draw and dance to music.

He gathered up the black lights and the black felt for me to paint and draw on.

Approximately 4x6 foot piece of felt/velvety material and mounted it on wood.

Then I used his airbrush to paint the picture.

I also airbrushed a t-shirt for part of my costume.

Each week I would go to practice and the other girls would practice their talent,

and I would say, "I'm working on it."

I practiced a bit at home, but really only did the real thing the night of the performance.

I won the creative and performing arts portion of the competition.

And if I remember correctly, I was a teachers aid for Mr. Monahan and Mr. LaRue that year.

I think I worked on that project when I was supposed to be helping them.

Yes, that was cool then to win an award.

But the legacy is now.

For the past 5 years, I have been teaching Bible school to middle schoolers.

Each year we have a program,

and the older kids seem to lose their enthusiasm for Bible school programs.

So we take the "fear" out of standing up in front of people

by turning out the lights and doing a skit with black lights

and use my old box of neon pastels from that high school pageant.

The kids and I love it.

I have received such notes of kindness about those skits.

And these skits that glorify God go back to my pageant project

that Mr. Monahan inspired.

I never would have thought of that on my own.

In addition, I was part of Art Club.

Mr. Monahan was an advisor and we were able to see first-hand

into what it takes to be an entrepreneur

with Tom's T's and that beginning of T&M Studios.

Because Mr. Monahan was my teacher,

I had the privilege of watching him start this business with Mr. LaRue, and see it grow.

Take something they loved and were interested in and build it.

Create a business.

Create jobs.

Do what he loved.

That was an inspiration to me.

Today, Mr. Monahan is one of many

that has inspired me to take risks

and do what I love.

A few weeks ago,

I was able to give Mr. Monahan a big hug

and proudly show him the work in art and photography

that I am doing today.

I felt like a school-kid again

showing my teacher,

"Look what I did."

I had no idea that would be the last time

I would see him.

But his legacy is carried on in my life.

*

I know others have their own legacy story . . .

of Mr. Monahan or of a beloved teacher.

I'd love to hear . . .

Art Moms & Friends Holiday Boutique

Some of my favorite

work ever.

I have shipped off

to Art Moms & Friends Holiday Boutique

in Sioux Falls, SD.

{For the next 3 holiday shopping weekends}

A year ago . . .

I experimented . . .

making my first mixed media collage.

What a year it has been!

I remember how oddly

scared I felt when

I bought my first art supplies.

Fighting feelings and weird thoughts

like,

who do you think you are?

And showing my art the first time

feeling like a 37 year-old-child

with a

lemonade stand.

{Click "lemonade stand" above & you can read about that}

Every step of this journey

has felt extremely vulnerable.

Yet authentic.

True.

Wholehearted.

And that is just

how

I

want

to

be.

Yes, I Am An Artist

2012

Senior Class President 1992

~ 20 year class reunion coming up ~

Time to gather a planning group . . .

So this weekend, I look at my junior high & high school scrapbook...

"Class Artist" award,

has a little cut-out that says

"Yes I am an artist."

I didn't set out to be an artist-even a year ago,

but here I am.

Who would've thought???

Yes, I am indeed an artist.

In fact, in that embarrassingly huge scrapbook of report cards, clubs, activites and yada-yada-yada attempts of trying to prove myself...

"yes I am an artist"

is probably the truest thing

about who I was then

in that book

{even if I didn't acknowledge or fully embrace it}.

All those other things I kept in that scrapbook

were like something I was grasping for

to make me be "enough".

Yet I never felt "enough".

Twenty years ago,

what I really wanted for a class award was

"Most Likely to Succeed"

which went to my friend Brooke.

But it seems my classmates may have seen

the real me

when I did not want to look at me.

Really "Class Artist"

was much more true to me than "Senior Class President".

Senior Class President was a title

I sought to feed insecurity and pride

because, really, seeing my name at the top of a list,

somehow seemed like it would make me valid and secure.

Would prove that I had value.

But that title didn't give me value.

I am more embarrassed about that title now . . .

because I know why I wanted it.

Yet, I own that part of my life.

Because it was part of my journey

to today.

And I made it through all of that.

It has taken me 20 years to own it.

But then it has also

taken me 20 years to stop trying to prove myself

to others,

but mostly

to

myself.

And 20 years

to embrace

the authenticity of me.

And 20 years

to develop a passion

for a message to share.

And 20 years

to artistically express

something that is authentic

rather than what I think

will prove my worth.

And 20 years to know

I am

secure and valid as a person

because of my Savior

Jesus Christ

who took care of all of my

insecurities and ugly thoughts & actions

once and for all.

And 20 years to continue

learning

and

growing

in

faith

and

truth,

and to be able to admit

I do not have it all together,

and be ok with that

because I never will.

After 20 years,

I can be an artist

because

I know what I believe,

and I'm ready to walk in it

one step at a time,

knowing I will stumble and fall,

yet knowing I can get back up again,

in faith rather than fear,

in truth rather than masks . . .

After 20 years,

I am no longer mostly motivated by

fear and doubt and insecurity

but I am primarily motivated

and make decisions

by faith and belief and security...

in Someone far greater than myself

who gives me strength and courage for all things.

~Soli Deo Gloria~