Tinsel & the Sky

Episode 7: Michigan Again

2012-01-02T23:10:00.004-05:00

So here I am in Michigan again on my way back down to Georgia, by way of Raleigh. It's snowing forcefully and horizontally on the other side of the glass panes to my right. It is the coldest, blackest night I've seen all year. Well, if it were still 2011 that would make sense. I guess it's the coldest blackest night I've seen thus far in this two day old new year and I did not see a night this cold or black last year.

I like that it's cold and dark and it hurt to inhale as I stepped off my tiny plane into Detroit air. I also like the way Detroit looks from the sky. It seems flat and short. I've only seen it in the dark and all lit up; flanked by huge patches of black Great Lake the city glitters. Maybe they use different light bulbs, or have different regulated distances between street lights, but it is not the same type of sparkle when I fly into Albany or Savannah.

Yesterday I started a five year journal- in this case each day is a question to answer, and each day/question has a space for the next five years. For example yesterday, January 1st, was "What is your mission?" Transparent hipster code for New Year's resolutions.

This year I turn 23. I love the age 23. I have always loved the age 23. Whenever I used to tell myself, "someday I will be _______," it was always in my mind that "someday" was when I was 23. I can remember the moment I realized I couldn't wait to be 23. I was in 9th or 10th grade I guess, and I listened to the Jimmy Eat World song, 23. I listened to it a billion times, and for whatever reason it resonated with me. It's not even an uplifting song, it's actually kind of depressing, but whatever, it means something for me and since then I have known that 23 was the year that would be pivotal. Apparently I jumped the gun a little- the reality is that this past year has been unavoidably pivotal as well. So much change. I feel like I've grown. My days are nothing I could've predicted back then, and I am so grateful for it. Each day that goes by I feel my mind stretch and expand, making room for not knowing and letting go of needing to be sure about everything, I see my work have more meaning and therefore get better. I feel more at home and at peace in my mind despite major impending transition- In a way returning to how I once was, but also assessing and renewing as necessary.

I've had about 6 weeks off from school now and it has been utterly restorative. It was the perfect amount of time to allow a full emotional transition. Exhaustion and hysteria, relief at being home with the opportunity to rest, relaxation- epitomized by a Bahamian cruise, rebuilding and remembering my roots and the bare essentials of life (visiting with family, going back to Cape May), restoration of inspiration (allowing myself the time to pursue my own projects, tending and stoking the flame of creativity but allowing myself to absorb colors and patterns and seek inspiration in my own time without the pressure cooker), ambition (feeling restored, accomplished, and energized to get back to the work of my normal life, knowing this is the last push before graduation and job finding and moving).

I have done many things this break. So many that I have forgotten most of them. I missed several that I wanted to get back to and share with you: I shot my close friends' engagement pictures and I love them. It's technically my first engagement shoot ever, so that's exciting. I really wanted to share some pictures of our Christmas tree, which I loved, that snuck by with the excitement of the season, and finally our pre-Christmas cruise- which was epic and mystical. OH! And I can finally unveil the projects I have spent so much of my break working on now that they are happily with their intended owners. I never got to all of my responsible portfolio reviewing I swore I'd get to, but that's how my life goes. I'll get to it, the things I got to were worth it. I can't believe that Christmas and New Year's Eve are over, I start back at school in two days!

In my journal, today the question is, "Do people change?" I've actually been brought up to believe they don't- primarily in an effort to minimize future disappointment, but based on life as I know it, objectively and observationally, they do. The days change, relationships change, nothing happens the same way twice- no matter how hard I try. I change. Everyone I know has changed. Some much more than others, but even the ones who appear to stubbornly remain the same have changed. Maybe that one person seems to unable to move forward, but I think it's a lack of wanting to change, not the lack of ability to change. I think the rest of us spend so much time so close to the disappointment of micro-changing people that we can't see the progress until years have gone by and we step back and objectively compare. Even the most painstaking progress is still progress. Knowing that change can be painfully slow, sometimes slow enough to cause us to lose hope, makes me unimaginably grateful for those shock-your-system drop-your-jaw change-your-life moments. Things do change. You CAN change.

I hate resolutions so I'm not going to make any, but I am going to walk into this New Year knowing that things change, including myself, and if I feel stuck or stagnant it's not forever. It has been made plainly evident before my eyes that if I am honest with myself and if I want it more than I want to stay the same, I will change.

Episode 6: The Cape

2011-12-10T20:31:00.007-05:00

Last weekend my mom and I drove down to the southern tip of New Jersey to staff an Advent Family Retreat at the Marianist Family Retreat Center in Cape May, NJ- a place we’ve been going for the past 15 years. That name is excessively long in my opinion, so we usually just call it Cape May. Normally my mom, sister, and I go during the summer for a week, but we have in the past and obviously this year gone down for a weekend during the holidays as well.

The physical place is a giant, three-story, yellow, Victorian house attached to a two-story white chapel house, half a block from the beach. Seven or eight families come for a week or weekend and, as the name suggests, retreat. From work, from school, from patterns and habits, from cell phones and laptops and choose to take the time to focus on their family and their faith. My experience thus far, is that God tends to show up, meet people where they are, and honor the simple act of making the time for Him, for each other, and for the other families on retreat with them.

Each week or weekend is usually themed, primarily for the little kids. But the theme sort of frames the context in which the staff presents the basic mission: serve God and your family, first. This weekend was “Pauline Deena” themed- something I am proud to say I know a lot about, being a young Georgia peach and all.

Having gone to Cape May most summers since I was seven years old, there were plenty of years where I almost resented my mom for bringing me. Maybe the themes got repetitive, or I would’ve rather stayed home and tooled around Clifton Park with my high school friends. But at the end of the day it’s not about the skits, it’s not about your parents stealing your cell phones and throwing you in the car. It’s about you meeting a girl like her and her meeting a guy like you, the two of you meeting friends like them and running with it. Living every moment of that week together, unashamed and unafraid. You go back to it over and over until you grow up or until the day you recognize what you’ve got in front of you. It can be a cold and messed up world out there, and we may make many shallow and superficial relationships, but these are not those. At the Cape everything else fades away and for once you can feel honestly alive. Find meaningful relationships. Play. Be in the moment without doubting that it’s going to be okay- remembering that everything has purpose and we are all in this together. Sure, getting there was sometimes difficult, but there was never a summer where I left wishing I hadn’t come. I made some of the best friends there that I’ve ever had. I grew up there.

I’m old enough now that I’m not going for the experience; I’m going to facilitate the experience and to spend a weekend with my mom paying it forward. It sounds nice, but it’s really quite strange. This past weekend I hung out with four teenagers, talked about the meaning of Christmas, fencing, and high school, had major déjà vu, and tried to stay out of their way and let what happens at the house, happen. I documented the weekend to keep myself sane, and I wanted to share that with you- because I’ve recently accepted that I can’t really explain who I am without explaining Cape May.

Episode 5: Everything Changes

2011-11-30T02:08:00.007-05:00

I was amped to put up another consecutive post until about two seconds ago when I shifted my pillow and became instantly exhausted. But either way I couldn't let this slip through my fingers. Today my life was changed. My mom and I were tooling around doing errands- the simple joys of life. Making lists, and checking off our little tasks. Woke up, ate oatmeal, showered, drove around, went to the bank, picked up some yarn and some thread at J Fab, and then it happened. We went to Fresh Market. I don't know how I've missed out on this radical paradigm shift for so long, but man, today the Earth stood still. Perfect lighting, no aisles, no branding barrage in the cereal section, fresh sparkly apples in the dead of winter, barrel upon barrel of varied trail mixes, coffees, and candy. It's grocery shopping as it always should've been. Thank you Fresh Market, for reminding me that there is truth and goodness left on this Earth and for providing my mother with the makings for the most delicious shrimp scampi I have ever had the pleasure to enjoy. Trust me, I'll be seeing you again.

After errands we came home and hung out. I organized my thoughts on my crafty to do list (see encoded master list -------->). Cleaned the mess of files off my desktop- which remains for some agitating reason the single most stress-inducing cofactor in my life. It's just as bad or worse than walking around all day with my shoulders subconsciously scrunched up. And then I sat down to knit. It was divine and productive. You'll notice a recurring lack of clarity on many projects I'll be working on and sneak peeking until Christmas. You'll notice a corresponding lack of clarity in my to do list ;o)

Yesterday mom and I spent the morning taking down all the thanksgiving/fall themed decorations and replacing them with everything Christmas. I love Christmas. I love Christmas smells, Christmas lights, Christmas ornaments. I really love choosing where each little thing goes-designing the set for the movie of my life. My mom said spontaneously the other day, " I love loving the space I'm in." I guess that seems semi-universal, but would definitely pose a valid argument for my suspicion that the tendency to design every little aesthetic decision about my home is genetic. But Christmas decorating is different. It's temporary, it's kitschy, it's nostalgic; it's indulgent and warm and atmospheric. Conveniently, it's been so dark and grey here that it lends to my need to light every candle, wear my slipper boots and do some needle work. So here's to winter, to warm glow and cold air, to beginnings and endings, to starting and finishing, to seeking and finding, and hopefully snow. Everything changes and it's renewing my mind.

Episode 4: Pennsylvania Living & a Baby on the Way

2011-11-29T00:17:00.009-05:00

Hi there. I just got back from visiting family outside of Pittsburgh for Thanksgiving, and I have now officially experienced that awkward gap between posts that leaves you undecided about what to post first, when to post, and how long you can go between posts without officially having abandoned your blog. Rest assured though, I am back. Despite my decided absence I have often been thinking about blogging. Unfortunately most of that thinking happened when I didn't have a pen or paper to write down my thoughts. But I've gotten smarter these past few days. I've started carrying around my little notebook with the attached pencil. I've salvaged the fragmented thoughts I had earlier and at least given myself brain joggers so I can go back and reattempt the posts I had so clearly envisioned a few days ago. Before I get to those I thought I'd share with you where I've been.

My mother, sister, and I have gone to be with my Aunt Holly, Uncle Rikk, and cousins Alexis and Brooke for Christmas in Sewickley, PA almost every year for as long as I can remember- at least since age 6. This year we swapped Christmas for Thanksgiving in light of my cousin Alexis and her husband, Branden's, first pregnancy. It's a beautiful baby girl, whose name has been maliciously hidden from me until her triumphant arrival in the beginning of January- I've been told it may or may not be either Emma or Peyton ;oP. Alexis and Branden normally live in Nevada as of this year, but they are home for the holiday and for Lexi's baby shower. So Mom, Eden, and I happily drove across the great wide state of NY about a month early for the joyous occasion and some prime turkey, and I'm so glad we did.

In years past I had been caught up in the many other things of my personal life and sort of missed the simple joys of spending time with people I have known for what seems like forever, but this year I felt present. It was really great to just be there. I enjoyed the boisterous kitchen moments, the unlikely black friday shenanigans, the great leopard battle of 2011, and finally the exceptionally crafty and non-boring baby shower. I spent a lot of time listening to conversations around me, taking in the details, getting good looks at the people- cataloguing the things I knew I had been missing.

I photographed the shower and select other moments and thought I'd share them with you and at last, I can finally reveal the mystery project from my last post.

Several weeks ago my Aunt Holly asked me if I could come up with some sort of baby book to be completed at the baby shower by the attendants- not fully understanding that book making is pretty much what I do, she had come to the right person. I immediately had in mind a puffy pink and green alphabet book- which conveniently matched the baby's nursery, the problem was finding the time to make it and getting the supplies I needed before I left Savannah and flew home. So I bought a huge amount of BFK Rives off the role from Primary the night before I left, cut it down to 11 x 17 and packed it in my carry-on. I created the pages in indesign- one letter per 8x8 page in both capitals and lower case, each page a different but coordinating font, and called the whole thing Love Letters- and looked for a printer (DesignItTogether) at home. The pages were to be decorated and signed by the guests of the baby shower and the book assembled after the pages were complete- when binding time came around I quickly realized I'm an idiot and should have drilled that sucker before hand. It's no easy feat japanese stab binding two covers and 28 pages of BFK with nothing but an awl and a needle. You live and you learn- for me it's usually the hard way.

All's well that ends well and I think it turned out beautifully. I can't wait to look through it with my little niece (?- we had long arguments about what title is appropriate, my vote is for super cousin... for lack of a more intellectual option) once she arrives.

So here you go. This is the beginning of lots of things again. But it's good. I'm finding there are lots of beginnings for me lately. More on that next time. Enjoy :o)

Thanksgiving Dinner (ft. the Great Leopard Battle of 2011):

The many emotions of Eden Pirog regarding Black Friday:

Post Shopping Shenanigans:

Yummy Mexican food in surprisingly beautiful tin foil:

The shower of babies (ft. astonishingly beautiful prego Lexi and her loving extended family):

The book! Officially bound and in the hands of the mama to be:

Because sometimes a stolen camera turns into an internet sensation: here's to you Pikki :o):

Episode 3: On a Sunday

2011-11-21T01:01:00.005-05:00

Hi there. Quickie post for consistency purposes: I was talking with my beautiful friend Rachel Self about books as we drove north from Savannah two days ago and the conversation is still on my mind. Rachel's very passionate about books and plays, having written and produced one herself before she graduated high school- I know, right!? She's also the person who taught me to make my very first artist book (and many thereafter). She recently finished reading Dandelion Wine (again?), along with my other best friend Rachel Preville a few months ago, and my favorite photographer, Sara Renee, a few months before that, and hearing her talk about that and all her favorites was wonderful.

In high school I took science, english, and social studies at the accelerated level and was always a year ahead and unfailingly out of sync with normal literary education. I remember bits and pieces of a small selection of typical American Lit classics, sadly none of which I'm very attached to. This realization led me to the inescapable conclusion that I am pathetically and shamefully unread and I don't know whether to blame that on teenage indifference, high school rebellion, or being in the wrong class at the wrong time and missing the divinely appointed Great Gatsby reading time. Either way, it's time to rectify the situation. You'll find a rather intimidating list of books, which I fully intend to conquer, over there--------------->

Stay tuned to see how long it takes.... I'll cross them off as I go :o)

In other news, this morning I went to church with my family at Grace Fellowship where the crowds are huge and the preacher is elusively southern, hiding his fading drawl between consonants so as not to upset the 4,000 latte-drinking, kindle-wielding yankees poised before him. Things like that become more amusing to me the longer I cross pollinate in Georgia. They were sporting a new typeface, Lobster 2, on their hand out, which made me giggle on behalf of Susanna Lynn Johnson and suddenly very afraid of the popularity and therefore short shelf life of free fonts, as beautiful as they may be.

After church we made our daily pilgrimage to Dunkin' Donuts to get my fix and proceeded home to hunker down and craft. I worked most of the day on a project I can't yet disclose, but will by the end of the week. For now I leave you with a sneak peak, and say good night.

Episode 2: Where I Am

2011-11-19T22:50:00.006-05:00

Today was my first day home and I thought I'd share it with you. This is my first time back north since last June and I am glad to be here- to breathe cold air, wear boots and scarves and hats, to eat soup and drink Dunkin' Donuts tea, to be responsible for nothing beyond what I want to be, to create an unreasonably long list of things to make.

Since the end of June I spent the summer and fall quarter taking twenty credits at SCAD to catch up and graduate on time this coming May. That's what I get for taking so long to figure out where I belong, I guess. Anyway- I survived it. I still have the feeling that I'm forgetting to meet a deadline that will come back to bite me. But sooner or later I will realize that I did it. I finished five straight months of sheer insanity. I may look and act like the world's youngest Alzheimer's patient and slur my speech to an indecipherable degree, but it is finished. Between June and now I have been waging war in a million ways and at long last I've reached my sabbatical.

I have a lot of plans for this break and I want to share them with you as I move through them. My primary goal is to go back through the labyrinth of work I've produced for the past two years, make my minor edits I never made, and finally be able to answer everyone's question when they ask what I have been working on, or what kind of work I do. Secondarily, I have a lot of craft projects I'm working on for Christmas, which I won't be able to share until after the holidays, but there are more that aren't for Christmas that I'll post as I finish them.

I thought I'd put up a big to do list and then check it off as things are finished. I really like lists. I have a hard time organizing a lot of sequential things in my head until I put them on paper. Not only is that inconvenient, but it stresses me out. So. I like lists. But even more than I like lists I like crossing off things on lists. It's rewarding. Empowering. Reminds me that I'm moving forward.

I'm going to stop telling you what I'm going to do now and do them. In the mean time I uncharacteristically documented my day today- until my camera inconveniently died. The verbal cliff notes are as follows: woke up, struck by beautiful cold weather light coming through the cathedral windows, photographed my new harbor, breakfast with the mama and sister, shower, farmer's market in Troy, soup at The Illium Cafe, awesome 50% off sale at closing art store, awesome print contact at DesignItTogether, Arlene's for Eden's book supplies, home, yummy dinner, T.V., skype with Rachel and Susanna, blog experimentation, now.

Speaking of blog experimentation- ignore whatever is going on with the aesthetics of this blog. I am learning blog customization the hard/ugly way until I a) get it together, and b) take Web Design next quarter. Until I find what I like it's going to look pretty schizophrenic around here. Without further ado. Here are the goods.

Episode 1: From Michigan with Love

2011-11-19T02:15:00.000-05:00

Today is a day of transience. As I drove 6 hours north from Savannah with the dearest of friends to Raleigh, and then flew from Raleigh to Detroit and Detroit to Albany, I saw my life from outer space.

I am a living, breathing, moving creature. I do a lot of things, talk with a lot of people, think a lot of thoughts. It is time I honored them- it is time I paid attention to what's going on with me.

Yesterday was Thursday, the last day of my last fall quarter at SCAD and from the flurry and fury of finals emerged a lot of work- some of which I'm really proud of and want to share with you soon.

Anyway, the work I did was sort of a signpost for where I'm at, and a lighthouse to where I want to be. I realized that I really do want to be known. Despite my stone walls and draw bridges I want to let the floodgates open. In doing some of the difficult and painful work to get there and sharing it with those closest to me I have been reminded that my life is not my own. It's not just for me. For a long time now I have been wanting to start writing again, to allow myself to exist to far away people and naturally I had a billion excuses and even more reasons to procrastinate- but now it has come.

The time is here.

As I'm flying over Lake Michigan I know that starting now I will be taking a risk; offering myself, my work, my days, my ideas to you- because I'm tired of building up walls, tired of going unheard.

I think and I hope that it could help. Even if only to teach you you're not alone.

So here.

If you want to get to know me better, if you want to see what I do- then this is how you should start.

And I will continue to let you in.

The cities shine like galaxies and the sky is set ablaze.