ding-dong, and a book in progress

I've been absent from this spot for so long that I had to log in, which is the online equivalent of ringing the doorbell to my own house. So, ding-dong!, and thank you for letting me back in. Nothing major happened -- it was just a matter of one moment flowing into the next, all the tasks and events of family life rapidly adding up to eat my days, with me left wondering where those days went, what I did, and what had happened to my creative routine. (Sound familiar?)

Anyway, as a friend of mine once said, "We press on." So I am, and I'm throwing all of my creative energy into penning something I've wanted to tackle for a while called The Things We Do -- an effort put into firm form all of those seemingly vaporous (but important) things we do as parents to raise our children. (At least from birth through the tween years. Late tweens & teenagers will get their own write-up once I've gotten through it!) I've been keeping notes for years and the time finally seems right to get it all out.

Here are a few of the many B&W pages in progress -- when it's finished it will be in color, somewhat organized, and bound just like The Stew Book.













It started out as a little leaflet but it has already grown way beyond the original scope -- clearly I have a lot to say on the subject -- and I'll keep going until I feel it's finished. If you'd like to keep tabs on the other page drafts, I'm posting them on Twitter and Instagram. Come & find me! Also, thanks for putting up with my absence and coming back to say hello! :)

i capture the castle

Yesterday. Full sun, glittering sky. It started off with truly solid creative intentions. I got my coffee and was about to head back to my studio (the living room floor) when the car changed direction & went bound for the mountains. (New Jersey does have them!) "Just a wee drive on the ridge," I said, "then I'll go back." Up Skyline Drive I chugged. Hiking sign & the entrance to the trails caught my eye. Car stopped. "Just a little stroll," I said, "and then I'll go back." Beyond my coffee & journal I wasn't equipped for a hike. Think ballet flats. But I had finally dug up a decent map of the place and I had read intriguing things about a beautiful lake and an abandoned mansion nestled in the interior of the forest. And the mood was right, which made the usual gear & other requirements seem dispensable. Off I went. "Just to the lake," I said, "and then I'll go back."



The lake was indeed beautiful and I reached it easily -- though I had to stick to the map and color coded trees like gum. Some parts were flat and easy to navigate (old roads) but others I would have never known were trails if they hadn't been marked. This was not a place I wanted to Get Lost -- I just wanted the challenge of getting to the lake.

And now, with my ballet flats doing a surprisingly deft job of handling the minor rock climbing, I felt committed to keep on trucking. The vibe was good, and I didn't want to leave without finding the castle. Here it got tricky -- the ruins were up on a bluff and I wound up turned around a few times because there was not much of a path; it was essentially a matter of moving up and over rocks, hoping I'd keep seeing white marks on the trees, and hoping I wouldn't run into any unfriendly animals. Up and away I went from the lake.



And just when I thought I really was lost, I popped up over a stone wall and there it was, in the middle of nowhere.



This is the shell of the old Van Slyke Castle (also known as Foxcroft), built in the early 1900s, then passed along through family hands until it was sold in the late 40s, then abandoned, and eventually torched by vandals in the late 50s. (more about the history of the house here and here.)











I felt alone here in the most wonderful way, like a little girl in a fairy tale. It brought back every story I've read about children living in castles or stumbling upon hideaways -- The Secret Garden, The Velvet Room (which I just finished on Beth's recommendation), I Capture the Castle -- and I slipped into another universe while I wandered around the ruins, imagining the fancy parties and conversations and family dramas that took place here a hundred years ago.

Two hours later I was finally ready to go back to the studio-floor, satisfied and whole again.

empire state of mind

With my mind fried from the move and the graphics card on my computer fried from overuse (or doodle abuse?), I checked out of life for a decent chunk of past week and did some low-tech, old fashioned wandering (and sneezing, thank you allergies), around the city. Here are fleeting glimpses of Midtown, Central Park, the Hell's Kitchen Flea Market, the High Line, Chelsea, West Village, Greenwich Village, Brooklyn and wherever else I ended up (I took a few of these in collusion with Jen, others with Mr. Artsyville, others with myself.) My computer has been fully restored and is back home, but my mind refuses to check out of New York. Probably will just leave it there so I'll always have someone to visit.

drawing the old-fashioned way

I eschewed the random number generator this time, and fetched my five and nine year old accountants instead. Older girl wrote the names, and then younger girl did the draw, the old-fashioned way. Of all the posts where I've asked people to share their stories, this is my favorite one to date. Your tales of Getting Lost were not only entertaining but insightful. I was so fascinated by the variety of perspectives that I wish I could give spots to all of you, because you each started a conversation that I don't want to stop :(

And here it is -- today is the opening day for 21 Secrets! When Connie asked me to be part of it again, it was right at the beginning of our relocation process, and I immediately thought that the topic Get Lost would be a fun subject to explore -- because I always feel lost (mostly in a good way) when I move. Now that the smoke of relo shellshock has lifted -- and I'm starting to get a grasp on what I'm up for (and against) -- I realize the class is going to be a lifeline for me.

Geographically, I'm living in an explorer's delight. I get lost every day. The landscape is beautiful, the villages are enchanting, the proximity to New York City is intoxicating, and I am wholly comfortable with that kind of disorientation (unless I have to be somewhere on time, and I make the wrong turn, and I make new swear words out of New Jersey's good name.) Mostly, though, I thrive on that kind of exploration. But emotionally, I've landed in an area that is a personality mismatch, and I have to figure out how to make my way while surrounded by a social fabric that does not quite fit me. As my pal Tulpen said (though on a totally different subject matter; I think it was about the smell of low tide), "if you know what I mean, you know what I mean."

Thanks for entering, everyone --and congrats to our winner, Jerden!

win, then lose it

Just poking my head out of a box (we moved into our new house!) to host a last minute gifting of a spot in 21 Secrets, which starts April 1! I'm so excited to get disoriented with everyone in my workshop Get Lost! To enter, leave a note here telling me about a time you got lost. It can be in the literal sense, or you can go all metaphorical on me. Make sure to leave your e-mail address or some way I can reach you. I'll draw a winner on Sunday morning, just in time for the class kickoff. And then prepare to Get Lost...

blisscovering

My blisscoveries this week:

That those hardcover books with cheesy (or no) book jackets can be made lively again. I spirited these titles away from the book trading shelf in our communal laundry room. This is possibly the easiest, cheapest, quickest paper project ever. Trace the existing book jacket (or lay the book open and trace that; make sure to leave a few extra inches on each end for the flaps) on a piece of lovely handmade or patterned paper. Cut, wrap it around the book, affix a handlettered or typed label on the spine, and lo! You have blisscovered books that look like little presents. I can't wait to get the rest of my books out of storage so I can have at 'em :))

Daylight savings time, after recovering from the first few days of feeling hung over from the change.

Realizing that some things should be left alone. Someone pointed out that my salvaged travel trunks were "lovely as they are" and after thinking about it for a while, I agreed. I have to finish the un-fun part of de-"ewwwww"-ing the insides, and "spraying for leetle vermin" as Cathy suggested. Nasty old paper has to be scraped out, and the interior sealed to vanquish the stink. Otherwise, the outsides will be left in vintage tatters, and the color will come from my stacks of blisscovered books.

I got the kids a tiny tent at IKEA. They delight in it. I delight in them delighting in it. Sometimes I go in too.

Stack the States and Stack the Countries apps. Recommendations from a fellow kindergarten mom. Educational, fun, and wholly addictive. Watch Mississippi and New York make googly eyes at each other; it won't happen anywhere else, I imagine :)

March Madness. I don't find much crossover companionship between the worlds of art and basketball, so my commentary on it usually goes unanswered, but I do love filling out my brackets, predicting upsets, cheering for my alma maters, watching my picks go up in smoke and reconnecting with old friends in my grad school pool. It makes the rainy month of March worthwhile.

Go see Liv for more little bliss lists!

the broad house

I lost my footing and missed out on the bliss list last week, but today let me share one of my frequent delights in my new town: visiting The Broad House. Unlike Lawrence, Kansas, where anything goes, an artsy yard-collage-montage is really the last thing one expects when visiting this pretty, polished up little village in New Jersey. Yet here it is. It's like Funkytown meets Nick's Yard, the Love Shack, The Outdoors Type and Coo-Coo-Ka-Choo house part one and two, topped with a dash of macabre ganache. It's awesome. And it makes me homesick.

Hopefully I'll be back later this week to share an update on pair of vintage trunks I'm rehabbing -- I found them in the trash! See here for the pre-pics :)