Who IS This Girl??

I'm interrupting the neverending studio overhaul today to go on an adventure. It's one I've gone on multiple times before so it's not like I'm stepping completely out of my comfort zone. Still, today's adventure is Twilight Zone surreal. And only because I'm experiencing no worrisome thoughts, no physical pain, no crazy ADD, no unnecessary stress, no head-all-over-the-map, no usual fill-in-the-blank.

So who IS this perfectly peaceful creature? This contented character? And what has she done with me?? And how can I get her to stick around long enough to show me how to bottle this moment??

Because this. NEVER. Happens. #LovingLifeAndFeelingPerfect

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Chaos Reigns (as Usual)

This old, buried-in-the-mess pic pretty much sums up how I feel....

Oh, the self loathing....

Since I wrote last I've been up to my earholes in what was supposed to be a quick studio clean-up. But it's now Day 6 and the room's nowhere near being functional.

It's my own fault; I let it get this way. And I know now that I can't help it. Still, understanding this doesn't make me like the situation (or myself) any better....

Although I'm proud of myself for taking this on and (so far) hanging in there, I hate that I'm the type of person who doesn't know how to keep things from getting to this point in the first place. And it disheartens me to realize that I live in a whole HOUSE that's like this now, with someone who is my equal in the Magpie Department. Not a win/win, I'm afraid. But I'm hoping that this first step will somehow set the snowball in motion. (Here's hoping the avalanche doesn't bury us both.)

I've always been this way. I was a messy and unorganized child, quiet and still on the outside but with a head full of Tasmanian devils. The mess in my wake must've been how I sorted them out? I dunno.... I do know that at any given moment my bedroom/school desk/locker/backpack/notebook/sketchpad looked like the aftermath of a cataclysmic disaster.

Just ask my mom. Out of anger and frustration she'd occasionally take a shovel to my room and gut it down to its bare bones. I'd go in there after the fact, see the newly unburied carpet and horizontal surfaces, and feel an odd combination of heartbreaking dismay and fierce gratitude. (I might've been in shock....;->) The picture perfectness of it took my breath away. Who lived HERE, I wondered! This girl has it all together, she's in control! But what did I know about her, really? Everything about her had been erased....

I swear all the pleasure of having an organized space lasted for about a minute. And then I'd begin to fill it up again.... And it's not like I even saw what I was doing either, until things were back the way they were. I'm guessing now that the clutter was 'safe,' somehow. It must've been necessary.

I know my mom probably attributed my frustrating messiness to 'laziness' on my part. But I think it had -- and still has -- something to do with how my head works. In my Mind Palace it's like a surreal episode of 'Hoarders' (x about a hundred....). No neat files for ME. Still, although it might take me a moment or more to find what I'm looking for, it's there.

Sometimes I dream of paring things down to a crazy minimum. Have a single set of clothes with a single set of pockets.... Art supplies? Forget it -- give me a stick so I can draw in the sand. Nothing to save, nothing to store, nothing to take care of.... Don't anyone let me near a cardboard box! I'd just fill it up.

But I would die from the simplicity of it all, I know it. The boredom would kill me. And before that happened, I suspect my thoughts would dry up and vanish until eventually my Mind Palace was empty -- no longer palatial but a single little room, until that, too, was gone. And then it'd be like I never was....

....?....

....*Thinking*....

Well, huh....

Something tells me there's a big, invisible Triceratops somewhere in all this mess, and I've just stubbed my toe on it.

Guess it's back to work for me.
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For Miss Avery

Avery, my eldest buglet, will be five soon (hard to believe). When she turned two, I sewed her a sockmonkey....

Amid all the high-tech gadgets and toys she received at the time, he stood out like a black eye, sadly. (A homemade black eye, too....) But I'm happy to report he's still around and still loved and still in one piece.

During a recent bugsitting gig, Avery brought him to me and pointed out some owies that she hoped I could fix. And so I took him home in my Gramma Bag, and with her in mind I've documented the procedure to prove to her just how brave he was 'under the needle' (in case there was any doubt). So without further ado:

Sockmonkey's Owie

(and How Gramma Fixed It)

First we must assess the damage. Yep -- looks like an easy repair.

(Owie #2 was in a place that he didn't want photographed for posterity....)

It's ok to be apprehensive. Dental floss will work like a charm.
Plus, you'll smell nice afterward, too!

 Step One: Thread the needle.... Step Two: Repair the tear.

 Awwww, poor sweetie. I'm stitching as fast as I can!

(Although he said nothing about it, I'm sure my choice of footwear wasn't helping....)

 All over! Here's a snuggle for being so brave.

And a band-aid, of course. Too bad I didn't have one with bananas on it!

Raisins help owies heal faster. Everyone knows this.

Looks like somebody's feeling better already!
But it's best to take things easy for a bit, Sockmonkey....

So here's a handkerchief sling.

And a kiss.

Ready to return home to Avery!

Whoa....

I started today all in one piece.

And then there was a pin hole....

Then another.

And another.

Now I'm a Lite Brite.

My eyes are like stars; you can see them from space....

Beams shoot from my fingertips. I'm a light show.

I try, but I can't contain Me. I close my eyes and curl my fingers. Inside, my head is a strobe.

My thoughts are too bright to look at. They bounce and ricochet like atoms. They escape and fly hot, throwing sparks.

Must focus!

I try to close doors, seal leaks, plug holes. I throw a blanket over all for good measure....

And yet....

Must not make eye contact.

I wouldn't want to hurt anyone....
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Thoughts of You

Finally. A day of clouds....

The wind outside flutters the evergreen spray on my front door. It sounds like spidery fingers, scrabbling at the window, trying to get in. The ghost of Christmas Future. It knows that shadows of the holiday still exist in here....

In the front room I can hear Miss Lily picking in her food dish for the 'good' bits while Lovey feathers her nest and Thurston preens. He mutters to himself and Lovey scolds him gently. An old married couple.... 

Already Boo's upstairs, curled on her pillow in the bedroom shadows. A princess surrounded by her tower of books.... 

The house is dark. Shadowed. The furnace churns, the refrigerator hums.... I put the kettle on the stove and prepare my cup, then nibble Christmas cookies while the water heats.....
 
Soon it's ready. I carry my coffee out to the desk, inhaling its steam, sampling it in tentative little sips, burning my tongue. Because I'm lost in thought. Thinking of you and how to begin my letter.

And before long, I'm away in my head, visiting with you again in the glow of the computer monitor. :)

Because of you I do this. And because of this I love you. Don't say anything to my art, 'k?, but sometimes writing is even better than drawing. 
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A Quote for Today

"Stop. 

Breathe. 

Allow yourself the luxury of doing nothing for a moment, or an hour, or even a day. 

It is in emptiness that inspiration will appear."
 
     ~Carole Katchen

Questions for YOU

Flying, flying! But to where, exactly?....

It happens every year around the Holidays.

I rethink this blog, where it's gone, and where it's (hopefully) going.

I think about how it's supposed to be about my business -- Mayfaire -- and about my art and my creative process and stuff, but how it ends up being pretty much just a letter from me to you about all sorts of things that aren't necessarily creativity-related.

And that just seems to be in conflict with what I'd intended this blog to be....

Then I think, maybe I should start another blog, and let that one be the personal one.

And then I think, who's gonna want to take the time to follow TWO of my blogs??

Yeesh.

Obviously I need some direction. So here's where you come in. Below is a small list of questions that I hope you'll take a moment to answer either here or on my Facebook page as doing so would be really really helpful to me. Ready? Here goes:

1. What past Mayfaire posts are your faves? What do you enjoy reading about here? Is it the personal stuff about my thoughts, my house, my pets/kids/grandbugs? Is it the stuff about my art and my creative process? Is it about bigger stuff -- what artists I like, why saving Monarch butterflies is my passion, things like that? What about this blog interests you? (I know which posts are most popular, but their subject matters seem to be all over the map, so that's just confusing me again....)
2. More photos or less photos? Longer posts or shorter? Every day or only when I've got something important to say? Is it important that you hear from me often? Or is it just annoying if I pop up in your in-box every day?
3. Should I limit myself here to just my art? Or does it somehow work to have everything -- business, personal, the works -- jumbled together? If I just wrote here about All Things Mayfaire, would you be interested in (or take the time to follow) a separate blog about all the other stuff? And if there were two blogs, which would you look forward to the most?

I like that it's just me and you here. Writing to you is one of my favorite things to do and it makes me happy. But I want you to be happy here, too. Your opinion matters! So thank you in advance for your reply, my friend. :)
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