"I Am Large. I Contain Multitudes."

-Walt Whitman

Last Thursday evening I left work, was picked up by my childhood friend and we went, once again to Smith Farm for a SoulCollage workshop.  SoulCollage is a way to explore the many sides of you and connect with them.  I'm not talking about having a dissociative identity disorder.  We all have facets, or layers that we choose to show at various times during our lives.  I am a very quiet person, sometimes very dark in fact, but when I leave my house, I've been told I smile all the day and I know I talk to every passerby.  SoulCollaging is a creative way to getting touch with, understanding and strengthening your relationship with those sides of yourself; your soul.

April Showers.... Part II - Butterfly Gardens

The next day I decided it was time to start my garden.  Every participant was sent home with a goodie bag filled with vegetable and herb seeds.  Besides, the magnolia has been thinned out so sun can actually bathe that side of my yard and house so the timing is right.  Perfect!  I have seeds left over from last years attempt, which I am proud to say resulted in a few months of tomatoes, bushels of basil, three salads worth of lettuce and one single round cucumber. 

So where to start?  I decided to take it slow this year and start with the herbs.  Container gardening for me is ideal right now at this juncture of my life. 

April Showers.... Part I

On February 20th, a friend invited me to join her for a workshop called Rooting DC 2010 at the Historical Society of Washington, DC.  We dropped off my littleest son around 10:30-ish at the very fun-looking, all-smiles, Wiggle Wonders romper room for the day and set our minds to make some big decisions:  Starting Seeds Indoors or Vegetales en Macetas?  We settled on coffee and to skip the first workshop session so we could thaw out. 

Home at the Center of My Art

Ahhh.... yes.  Snow days.  The kids are home, the family is gathered together, laughing and sipping hot cocoa over playing a game of SORRY while the whispy snowflakes come fluttering down outside the windows.  Well enough of that myth.

Tomorrow I'll be returning to work, returning to the grind.  I haven't gone any where except the store in the last week and some change.  So you would think there's nothing to report on.  But wait!  Even though I had that giant, babbling two year old  running in perpetual motion throughout the house, the sloth-like, gangly teenager sprawled out across the couch and the slightly humour-less puma-like manbeast stalking between his den and the kitchen EACH AND EVERY DAY!!!!!!!! I still found a healing place to share about...

my home.

Altering State of Bind

Four weekends ago I went to an Altered Book workshop at Smith Farm Center for Healing and the Arts.  I walked from Dupont Circle, a crisp walk, to U Street where Smith Farm sits, rang the bell and skipped up the narrow stairs to an open, brightly lit, airy space. I was late so I tried to slide in unannounced but the group was too small for that. Instead, I was immediately greeted by Dari, Smith Farm's Program Director, then by Rebecca Wilkinson, MA, ATR-BC, next by Gioia Chilton, MA, ATR-BC, both presenters and all extremely lovely ladies....

Two Thursdays ago, I again attended yet another SmithFarm event.  This was an intriguing lecture, Art and the Intersubjective Experience by Art Therapist, Savneet Talwar.  It wasn't at all what I expected it to be....

So, this is where I get stuck.

New Year Nightmare

Guess what!  After all that talk about dancing and getting my groove back, I didn't go to the class!! 

Now, I know you're wondering "What was all the fuss about, talking to God through movement, rekindling the language, the relationship"?  Its really a long story so I'll save you the long, painful details and try to get to the point.

Awww.  But the details are to me, what makes it good.  Here goes.

New Year's eve and my husband and I were home feeling deflated because our dinner out was cancelled due to babysitter plans falling through.  It took a lot of antics and games to get the boys settled down for the evening so we could steal away in our room and ring in the new year behind closed doors.  But at 11:30 our toddler son woke up in a panic because a jurassic cricket (more commonly known as a cave cricket) jumped on him awaking him from his sleep.  He woke the entire house, if not the neighborhood, with screams only the best ladies in horror movies could belt.  To say he was traumatized would be an enormous understatement.