View from the Prairie Box

My art is in words. The swirling watercolors and acrylics can be founds in letters in print, in between black and white lines, both casually and purposefully painted across a screen. Today I’m ready for more. I long for art to be splashed across the pale walls of this old house, and I know that someday these blank slates will be filled with the creative works of kindred spirits. My soul is dissatisfied with the flickerings of television and computer screens. I want paint, thickly applied to a canvas. I want sculpture I can caress and wrap my fingers around. I want to feel the rhythmic churning of the pottery wheel controlled by my right foot, my hands tight around a sloppy glob of clay. I want to sit quietly, breathing in and out, as I create. As I cut out shapes for a collage, make marker strokes on a bookmark, or artfully wrap a birthday present. I want to inhale aromas of fresh mountain air, salty sea breezes, pastries from a bakery or coffee so strong it stays on my skin all day. I want to encourage artists around me, tell them they are amazing, and wait with anticipation to see what they do next. I want contribute to the world, make my mark on it, be proud of what I create. I want to be meaningful, purposeful, strong and beautiful in my pursuit.

My thoughts, swirling and enriching and outward-focused, are wrapped snugly under a down blanket next to the sleeping form of a sick five year old. Her deep breaths, slowly in and out around the two fingers tucked in her mouth, lull me, comfort me, ground me. Peacefully sleeping, she radiates the glory of a God who delights in making beautiful things like soft foreheads, wispy little girl hair, and tender downy ears that look like seashells. The day is dark and overcast and my mood, too, has been dark and overcast until the excitement of creative work and the sweet peace of a sleeping child spread joy to scare away the shadows.

Today I create with words. I’ll go in search of sculptures and paintings tomorrow.

Jeremy and Liv are either playing the Stare Game or they’re cuddling. Whatever they’re doing, I’m in favor of it.

Credit for the first image goes to Renae. Thanks, friend, for letting me post it here!

As lovely as the previous post’s images are, I’ve decided to move on to something else.

March in Nebraska. I’ve never been so grateful for rain! Finally finally finally the air has warmed up and the snow on the ground is gone. This winter was something else. A few weeks ago I imagined myself frantically scooping all the snow out of my yard and wondered if the neighbors would think I had gone mad. We’ve had snow on the ground since early December! Something about that was demoralizing. But spring! Spring is on its way and I couldn’t be happier.

Here are a few images from last Thursday when Renae and I sought out sunny skies among the prairie grounds at Pioneers Park.

This is me watching the Oscars all by myself.

This is me, terribly excited to be watching the Oscars.

This is me… blogging… because I am an extrovert, and as previously mentioned, I am watching the big show by myself. So. Who looks great tonight? Who are you rooting for? What do you think? (And yeah, I’ll totally delete this post if there aren’t any comments. lol)

I rarely link to blogs from folks I don’t know.

But this post is so good, I can’t help but share it here:

I don’t want my children to be happy from It’s Almost Naptime!!

[HT: my buddy Haley, pregnant and blogging and hopefully getting a good night’s rest tonight, from Missing Mississippi]

Oh my goodness, check out this precious little face!

Quinlyn is the seven-month-old daughter of my longtime beloved friend Sarah. It’s hard to live far away from your girlfriends, but I suppose that makes weekend trips that much more special. This weekend my family got to meet Quinlyn, whose round eyes and sweet checks make her look remarkably similar to her big brother Calvin.

More photos coming!

Spring, please hurry.

The pace of life over the past few days is leaving me a little breathless.

Jeremy’s grandpa passed away on Thursday. His death was not a surprise, but nonetheless, the family is mourning and we miss Grandpa Fred a lot. It’s just plain sad. Perhaps like many of you, I have a lot of thoughts related to death but I can’t quite figure out how to sort them out. I hate death. It sucks. Although it is clearly the natural progression of things, it is wrong and feels wrong. The death of a loved one seems to occur in something outside of real time. Driving back and forth to the hospital to visit Grandpa Fred, I thought it seemed strange that the rest of the world keeps on moving. People are still impatient in traffic, they are still going about their daily activities, nothing is put on hold for a family that is grieving. I remember feeling the same way when my Grandma Iola died. I would walk into the nursing home and feel instantly transported to a surreal existence where my beloved grandma was breathing her final breaths. Bah. This is hard stuff to write about!

But like I said, life moves on. Jeremy still has work and I have a freelance project to focus on. We still need to make our basement safe and comfy for Sarah & baby Quinlyn who are visiting soon. Dinners need to be prepared. Livia needs to play. The dog didn’t eat for two meals in a row so clearly someone needs to worry about that. Say nothing of the persistent colds we keep trading around the household—who ever has time for a cold?

Time for a funeral, to remember and rejoice in Grandpa Fred’s life, will be made. If you think of it, pray for the family, that God would love and support Grandpa’s wife, five children and many grandchildren and great-grandchildren as they adjust to life without him. Thanks, friends.

The following song has been playing in my mind for over a week now. The lyrics are excellent.

In Christ Alone

In Christ alone my hope is found,
He is my light, my strength, my song;
this Cornerstone, this solid Ground,
firm through the fiercest drought and storm.
What heights of love, what depths of peace,
when fears are stilled, when strivings cease!
My Comforter, my All in All,
here in the love of Christ I stand.

In Christ alone! who took on flesh
Fullness of God in helpless babe!
This gift of love and righteousness
Scorned by the ones he came to save:
Till on that cross as Jesus died,
The wrath of God was satisfied –
For every sin on Him was laid;
Here in the death of Christ I live.

There in the ground His body lay
Light of the world by darkness slain:
Then bursting forth in glorious Day
Up from the grave he rose again!
And as He stands in victory
Sin’s curse has lost its grip on me,
For I am His and He is mine –
Bought with the precious blood of Christ.

No guilt in life, no fear in death,
This is the power of Christ in me;
From life’s first cry to final breath.
Jesus commands my destiny.
No power of hell, no scheme of man,
Can ever pluck me from His hand;
Till He returns or calls me home,
Here in the power of Christ I’ll stand.