glimpse

 Hummingbirds traditionally symbolize joy, peace and lightness of being. There is much to admire in these tiny iridescent winged ones, besides their obvious beauty. Their ability to fly backwards and long distances also speaks of their agility and endurance when it comes to finding what feeds them. We have an abundance of bee balm outside a bank of windows in our sunroom. It returns each year with its fiesta of brilliant red plumes... beacons to endless hummingbirds.
They flock to its nectar all day long. No matter how many hundreds of visits we receive, each sighting feels like a little gift. A glimpse of bliss. A reminder to search out the sweetness in life and drink it in... and share the joy.

Have a lovely start to your week!

blossoms and stitches

There are certain holidays that leave me with an unsettled feeling these days. It's only natural, but I'd rather find a way to shift the energy. Fresh flowers and new pillow cushions were just what the doctor  inner wise woman ordered for a quiet Father's Day on my own.

Gleena's lovely vase was filled with catmint, scabiosas, lupines, and a favorite little green flower that's name eludes me. I've mentioned it before, but I have to again- I love perennials! Such sweet blossoms returning each year like old friends.

I covered some tired old cushions in muted blues and greens.  By using a simple envelope construction, I had five new covers in no time! The base cushions called for boxed edges. When I ran out of green, I added the last strip I had of blue. Basically, I checked my perfectionist at the door, made up sizing as I went and thoroughly enjoyed myself at a task I've done a million times. And hey- they weren't so shabby when I set them on my newly painted wicker couch on my deck.

And this is where I sat yesterday... enjoying ice tea and some quiet time for me. Self-care at its finest.

"You can cut all the flowers but you cannot keep spring from coming."- Pablo Neruda

clearing

Spring cleaning is happening in full force around here. I'm pausing briefly to encourage you to join me in getting rid of what's been weighing you down. This post is for me, as much as for anyone else who needs the message that "you are enough". Do not let your stuff define you. I am getting rid of decades of unnecessary belongings and household items that no longer serve me. Making piles, filling boxes, and clearing the clutter. Letting it go.

Because I live in the watery depths of my emotions, I have held onto the belief that each item has a story worth telling. Well, let's get real. Some do and some truly don't. I'm being ruthless. Purging with wild abandon! Do I really need that extra popcorn maker my ex in-laws gave us a million years ago? My goodness, the amount of junk that accumulates within a lifetime. My new found freedom has unleashed me from my need to hold onto things for that rainy day. The storm came... and all that was necessary were my wits. So out with the old. You don't need a storm to wash away your extra debris. Just a little reminder. You are enough. Say it with me... "I am enough. My stuff does not define me. I'm letting go."

Ahhh... it feels so good to create space and lighten the load. Happy spring cleaning, my friends!

mistakes

I am fascinated by the concept of making mistakes. And to me, it really is just that- a concept. If we look at our creative process as a series of experiments, than each stage is necessary to reach the outcome that we're most satisfied with. What might be considered a mistake is actually a necessary step towards discovering something more effective or to learn a new skill.

Nothing can teach you this more clearly than writing a craft book. In writing 28 patterns, I learned a great deal about the necessity of prototypes. Whatever I envisioned in my mind usually took several attempts before it reached its final version... often different, but always better than what had been planned.

I've kept many of those mistakes  attempts that didn't quite work in a huge basket. Over this last year, I've reworked some simply to salvage the fabric... or as practice for something new. So it was with this linen portfolio. The linen is gorgeous, but I had lined it with a much too heavy winter blanket, and it's a bit lumpy. Yesterday, I decided to complete it anyway and added my first leather handle. Guess what? It's still not what I want it to be, but I learned how to work with leather in a new way- and I'm really excited about its potential. I've since taken my seam ripper to that handle and it's ready to be attached to something else. Ever evolving.
 

Here's what I learned about working with my leather from SCRAP:
-A universal needle works beautifully with thin supple leather
-Folding that same weight leather in half transforms it into something exceptionally strong and sturdy (great for a handles)
-Using contrasting thread is asking for trouble, but has potential to be striking.

Have you learned anything recently from something you considered a mistake? Perhaps it was just a step in the right direction. And hey, seam rippers are very effective! Wish I could use them in all areas of life!

****

feather

My world seems shaped by symbols and signposts. Even when I'm not looking for them. Yesterday when I painted with my daughter, I chose a chicken feather as my subject. Hey, I love feathers and it was on the window sill. I didn't attach deep meaning to it. And yet, as the day unfolded- I realized that there are no coincidences in my life- synchronicity is always at play to hit me over the head with messages of truth.

You see, later on I looked out and saw our huddled flock. Snow began only after they had roamed quite far from their home. What to do? Trapped by a frozen white sea, they looked dazed and confused. The thought of crossing that expanse was enough to stop them in their tracks. Can't blame them. I knew there was only one solution. A rescue was in order. If I took one hen, I could show them the way... trailblazing chicken style. 

And it was in that moment of helping them through their challenge that I realized something BIG. I've been frozen, myself. Trapped. Marooned. I know I often sound brave. Sometimes I am. But more often than not, I'm quite vulnerable and wonder how to get across the giant stretch of icy landscape between today and the future. I dream of flying. Only I'll need wings for that. Perhaps one feather at a time, I can grow my own wings. But until then, I need to learn to rescue myself. If hope is my word for the year, then a feather is most definitely my symbol for hope.

tea time::me time

I took my own advice. I put on my boots. I went outside. I also brought a wool throw and a tray of tea. It was 20 degrees with fresh powder on the ground and a bright blue sky overhead. A sunny spot out by the pines looked just right for settling in. I was glad I had taken an extra moment to make it special. A little lace... a few blossoms. I'm worth it,  I reminded myself. Time is scarce for each of us, I've never known this to be more true. But care for our souls is essential. Feeling that we are deserving of this should be the goal, shouldn't it?

 

Sitting with my hot tea, I listened to the crows.  I heard the snow falling off heavy branches. A cardinal swooped by in a crimson streak. A cow lowed in the distance from my neighbor's farm.

 And there was silence. And sipping. And quiet. Thoughts  landed momentarily before flitting off like the winter birds. Answers came to little things that had been tickling at the back of my mind. A solution to something bigger was found. In the silence.

 I put them to paper. Several pages filled up easily. And I was grateful I had remembered my pen.

And this I wrote for you. Because I can't be the only one that needs and deserves some peace now and then. 

Will you give yourself the gift of a little solitude some time soon? This weekend would be good, you know. Can you make sure it's outside without any walls or ceilings to box your thoughts into the usual circles they travel in? Perhaps with a tray of tea...

{special thanks to Lis who lovingly knit me a new pair of woolen wristies just in time for the snow!}

reinventor

Hey, there!
 Do you know what today is? Holy moly it's Trailer Day! My Creativebug instructor trailer is now live and ready for you to go visit. Instead of feeling utterly vulnerable and shy, as I had expected- I am proud and grateful. This mini documentary (totally what it feels like to my mom!) is more than a simple introduction... it was crafted so that each frame literally has a story behind it. I have no idea what it will be like for someone who doesn't know the details of my life, but for those that do it is amazing how seamlessly so many facets of my world and history are woven together.

So here's inside scoop for you:
The San Francisco hill top is Bernal Heights. I grew up at the bottom at Precita Park, and my best friend lived at the tippy top. We played on those very rocks (with that sweeping view) every week for many years of my childhood. It was our fort and playhouse, the set for all of our imaginary play and adventures.

The street I'm walking down is to my old house on Precita... and it's where all of the old photos are taken from, too. I hadn't been back in years... but it's still exactly the same. It was kind of unbelievable to open the very gate I remembered swinging on when I was 5.

The murals? They were the backdrop of my girlhood. My neighborhood is renowned in San Francisco for its murals- they were and still are an integral part of the area's identity.  The artist for the one in the trailer lived down the street from me, and since I played with her daughter she painted us in. You can find out more about the Mission murals right here at Precita Eyes. We lived directly next door when the founders, Maria and Luis Cervantes, moved in...  it's still there providing incredible education and culture to the city. Some things don't change.

And then there's all of  the pieces of my grown up life and the country side that is such a contrast to those urban roots, but very much the expression of who I am today. It will look very familiar to you if you visit here frequently, but it's real- not a frozen snapshot.

***

And of course, since synchronicity is always at my side, it's not surprising that this week marks when the real reinventing of myself begins. My legal separation from my children's father is now official. The next chapter is really here. I've tried to be so strong, but last night I had a bit of overwhelm... a fragile moment when I thought- how the hell am I going to do this all by myself?  Raising two kids, building this business, running a home, making it fun, keeping it real, helping others, doing good... you know-  LIFE!

And then I woke up to this trailer... this gift.! This reminder!

Thank you to the Creativebug film crew (Debra, Fernando, Daryl, Danny, and Kelsey) who helped me to see myself and gave me my own words to answer any doubts I might ever have. Now, you'll just have to go watch to hear what they are!
xxx,
Maya

click here

wise child

It turns out that the same medicine that's been healing my heart seems to be calling to my youngest. Creative self-expression and plenty of time interacting with our land are powerful doses of just what's needed. I've witnessed her over the last few days quietly tending (and mending) bits of her soul through the process of fortifying and beautifying her sky tipi. She's let me know in her own words what very important and serious work it is. This was not play. And it was her "project" (her process).

First came additions of new sticks to strengthen the frame. Next, a floor was made of soft White Pine needles gathered by the armload. A single feather from one of our Buff Orpington's was tucked into the top. Later stones filled an old red wagon and circled the base. She's hoping to add several layers to make a "solid foundation". 

 More feathers from our molting hens were collected, and log seating for two was added. 

  The most recent touch... bouquets of russet colored magnolia leaves. 

As I watched her adding new elements each day, I marveled at the incorporation of so many significant pieces of this year's story. I don't think it was a coincidence. 

-Our chickens, which we adopted in the spring to represent new life, hope, and abundance.

-Leaves from our beloved little Magnolia tree that symbolized just how connected we were to nature's cycles and earth's weather patterns. 

-Logs from the wood shed that signified strength, security, and pride.

Our children know so much more than we give them credit for. Their wisdom doesn't come from life experience, but inner resources and a connection to intuition that hasn't been taught to doubt yet. Our job as parents is to nurture those innate abilities of theirs so that they don't lose it along the road to adulthood. Well, that's what I believe, at least.

grateful

Here's some insight into last week's adventure... via instagram. (username: @mayamade)

I landed in my favorite city and hometown during a heatwave. I went from our first snow to 80 degrees in a matter of hours. oh, San Francisco in November! It was incredible and thrilling- a true gift as we gear up for our long winter out east.  I was so fortunate to be working with the amazing folks at Creative Bug. I am in love with each of them, and feel so honored to now be part of their family. I'll share more soon, but my lips are sealed until then.

I ate tacos for almost every meal... had to fill up on the real stuff, and the Creative Bug "headquarters" are adjacent to my old neighborhood... and down the street, so to speak from my Dad's. Crazy! Serendipitous!

Paid a visit to SCRAP. That is a post in itself... scheduled for later this week. Here's a peek at my haul of rescued treasures...

It was one of the best weeks of my life. I kid you not. I felt so seen, and the world felt beautiful. Bliss was at my side constantly. After how my 2012 began, my gratitude for this kind of ending to the year has no words. It's just a deep knowing and thankfulness that no matter how dark it gets, if you keep truth in your heart and never stop reaching for the light... it will find you! And who knows... you may even be more on top of the world than ever before!

As much as I love... LOVE my city, you know how happy I always am to come home to my nest.

We got right down to work, because the warm weather followed me back, and there was a last opportunity for farm chores. Nothing like mucking out a chicken coop to bring you down to earth... in the best possible way. Grounded, I am. And so are my favorite helpers, who love HOME just as much as I do!

And just in case I needed a bit more acknowledging of the goodness of HERE... a little more rejoicing in the great community we have, our friends called us over for a spontaneous bonfire last night. Staring into the flames, I counted my blessings- there are just so many. In this month of gratitude, I feel full and at peace for the first time in so long. My hope in sharing it with all of you, is that it gives anyone else experiencing the darkness and despair (that is a part of each of our stories at one time or another)... HOPE. It really does get better!

habit forming

 I am loving our cheerful front porch. It receives the end of the day light and is the perfect place for watching the sun set or shadows dance. My son greets the morning here as he waits for the yellow bus to appear over the horizon.

 I cleared out the bench that sat by our front door for years and set out a wicker chair (summer garage sale score) and an overturned painted crate-ish table. It's a good spot for finishing up his breakfast... or reading the mail when he comes home. We keep adding pumpkins, which increases the fun.

We're all about fun these days... and light. I am bound and determined to never stop seeking all that is good and right in the world. And guess what? It's no secret, but I think I'm finally getting it... deep in my bones! Positivity is truly like any other practiced art... keep at it and a lovely habit is formed!

And that is a habit I hope my children will always keep!

 Light and love from... us to you!

the magnolia tree

  Yesterday's overwhelming outpouring of love and wisdom filled me with awe. My gratitude goes beyond words. The web of support that can be woven by women throughout the world has no bounds now that we can reach one another from our homes.We are all intimately connected. Your comments and tender thoughts are a tribute to our shared humanity. I am proud and blessed to have you as friends.

If you've been visiting with me for even a short time, you know how much I appreciate the turning of the seasons and the beauty of the countryside we live in. My relationship with the natural world has deepened over the last few months, and I have experienced a level of synchronicity that happens when our eyes are truly open.

When my grandmother was a young mother she planted a magnolia tree outside of her kitchen window. She watched it grow and change throughout the years as she washed the dishes and cooked for her family. When my in-laws wanted to give us a tree for our 5th wedding anniversary, I asked if we could pick out a magnolia. My grandparent's long and successful marriage was an inspiration. I hoped that planting a magnolia tree outside of our kitchen window would bring us the same happiness. My husband and I planted it with the help of our three year old son and watched it grow as the seasons changed.  I don't get to see my grandmother as often as I'd like to, but her spirit has stayed close by in the magnolia tree outside my kitchen window... she's always just a glance away.

 Each year our anniversary tree has blossomed on Earth Day. This year was different. The spring of 2012 was a strange and tumultuous one for me and for the Northeast. A mild March brought early blooms, and on the very day that my husband moved out, our tree was crowned in a riot of pink blossoms. I photographed them in wonder. Life was utterly surreal for my family, why not our tree? That night... our first night alone... the temperatures plummeted and a hard frost killed all of the new blossoms on the early Magnolias throughout our entire village. Limp, brown and wilted our tree seemed to be echoing my heart. Over the next month, as we learned how to find our footing, green life began to emerge from underneath the rotted magnolia flowers. On Earth Day, I marveled at how different our tree looked this year...and  at how broken I felt our family was. And on that night, as we slept, a freak snow storm piled 6 heavy wet inches on everything in site. Never had we had such a late snow... a snow day so close to May was unheard of. My children unpacked our snow clothes and we went out to investigate. I didn't see it first. My daughter did. "Is it dead?" The magnolia was flattened under piles. When the snow melted we discovered that our tree was most definitely alive, but the center trunk had split down the middle and each side had been sheered off in opposite directions. The center of the tree was gone and had been taken down a few inches, but it was still standing. I realized that even though I felt  ripped apart, my core was still in tact, and I would survive stronger then ever before. I was still standing just like our magnolia tree.

 At times of crisis our awareness is heightened as we search for meaning and understanding. Sometimes the deepest wisdom is revealed by remaining open to unexpected guides and signposts within nature. I found it right in front of me in the form a tree that mirrored my experience.

****