what I’m into lately is potential. who we are, what we’re intended to be. breaking out of who we think we should be to who we really are. knocking down the bullhorns of culture that prescribe (for me) what a thirty-something woman should look like, literally & figuratively.
I stared this stigma squarely in the nose this morning. I was sitting on the floor playing cards with two of my kids (which, don’t get all goosey, never happens. truthfully.) when a vehicle drove up. one of andy’s t-shirt customers was slated to pick up her order, & he’d just left to buy toilet paper. i raced up, scooping up the laundry the little boys had used for a war & shoved it back in the basket, pulling it behind a wall on my way to the door. I answered the door to a truly gorgeous woman, with the jeans & the hair & the smell. (do you know what pretty smells like? I do.). I had managed out of my pajamas, but as I watched her glance into my kitchen, I saw it through visitor eyes (so different from we-live-here eyes): huge scrap bowl of apple peelings & egg shells alongside bills & houseplants, with a couple pantyliners on the side. leif had been pulling off the sticky backs & plastering them on his tummy, saying, “owie”. & that’s where they landed when i unstuck him. nice.
also, I hadn’t brushed my teeth. (it was only 12:30. not like the middle of the day.)
after pretty woman left, I had my mini breakdown, feeling my feelings of inferiority, blah, blah, blah. & then I got back to it: cards & chaos & countertops housing miscellany. this is who i am, & i’m good with it (usually).
striking, how quickly the bullhorns scramble to shout me down.
so, usually “just a minute’s” are succinct tidbits, but today had more. & while i’m pacing back into myself, I want you to know who you are, too. you may not be Revlon in skinny jeans, or you might be. you might be home with your kids, or you might be busting your bum in the ER on weekends because that’s what makes you tick. maybe you won’t leave the house with lipstick. maybe you’re good with a solid tube of chappy.
one thing i do know about us is art is who we are. I am art, you are. what we do is art, or can be.
I used to think being an artist meant that I could draw. which i abslute cannot, except at pictionary. (I rock pictionary.) but the farther I walk this road, the more I understand all of life is art because it was created. we have a Creator who formed us out of some pretty funky stuff, & then knit into us an individual artistry that the world needs. it needs you, because if you look around when you stroll wal-mart for chicken broth, there ain’t a whole lot of happy going down.
we could use a little more happy.
take a look at the little ones. ever notice how little kids go deep into their creating, going slow (because they have not learned “better” yet) & putting their whole selves into it? & then when they run up to you, sticky paint hands & a wonder-filled page upheld, they are glowing? they have done what they were meant to do. they have created.
I can do that, too. create, I mean. how I made that chili last night with two kinds of (canned) tomatos?
cornbread to go along, hot butter sliding off?
my four kids + huz gathered around our small wooden table on mismatched chairs beside the picture window?
call the Guggenheim, my friends.
it’s getting lovely in here.
& this idea of art everywhere, in you, around you, comes down to noticing. I spend a lot of time reigning myself in to go slow enough to see. we’ve talked about this before. but if you’re going too fast, cruising down the interstate of your life, if you don’t slow down a bit, take ten minutes off in the afternoon on tuesday before you take the kids to karate, you’re not going to see the art. you have to go sloooooow. or at least a little bit slower than the culturally-appropriate warp speed.
if you don’t notice it, you can’t enjoy it. & if you can’t enjoy it, you can’t realize that you have the opportunity to create art every day. in all the tiny & small things. (ha,ha. shameless plug.) because you were intended to be amazing. & you are.
so, go be an artist today. pour cereal in a pretty bowl. take an extra minute to make coffee just how you like it, & drink it from your favorite mug. take the time to unearth it from the back of the cupboard. don’t have a favorite mug?
we can’t be friends.
& if you need a little inspo, listen:
(you’ve heard the song if you’ve been alive recently, but have you seen the video? it’s on repeat ’round here. you’re welcome.)
happy creating, my friends. you are art.
(“just a minute” is a once-in-a-blue-moon post on fridays, in which I offer up a photo & a song (two of my most favorite things) that hit me between the eyes recently. if you’d like to leave a scrap of what strikes you, please do, either in the comments or on facebook. love love.)