Won't Someone Please Love Me For Who I'm Not? {...so I have a few personas...}

I don't need you to love me for who I am.  Well, I do, but I mostly need you to love me for who I am not.

Who I am is essentially understood, once you get to know me:  I am a believer in Christ Jesus.  I am a preacher's wife.  I am an artist and a communicator - a speaker and writer and blogger.  I am a mother to four grown children.  I am a grandmother to four - a three-year-old, a two-year-old, a six-month-old, and one on the way, whose name is Susanna Joy.

I am deeply loyal, deeply spiritual.  I am so intense that I need my closest friends to be not intense at all.  I have enough intensity...so much intensity, I nauseate and overwhelm myself.  I don't need more from anyone else.  I don't need a dose of hyper spirituality, complete with tears for all the world's prodigals (and my own) over lunch at Wild Wings.

I need you to love me for who I am not.  I need you to love me when I take a break from myself, which is a lot.  When, instead of primly saying that "I am a Christian", I flatly state:

"I am a jacked-up Jesus Freak!"

Or when I lovingly call my family, "The Freak Show".

When I am so broken I don't want deep conversation or even companionship.  (Know that "this too shall pass", and give me some room to be who I'm not!)

When I confess to being addicted to Red Band peppermint "crack sticks", or Dr. Pepper.  I'm really not addicted to anything but Jack Daniels - aaaand there I go again.  Just kiddin'.

See, I'm a living, breathing hyperbole.  I hyperbolate to blow off steam...all that intensity about the Gospel, it boils like a fire shut up in my bones, and occasionally I absolutely must act silly and say shocking things and adopt pretend personas to relieve the pressure of being inside my own head.

You should've been there when I played milk-pong at a church party, and pretended to get smashed on tiny Dixie cup after Dixie cup of milk.  I did make myself a little sick...but I had friends laughing until the tears ran down.

Laughter is carbonated holiness.  If that makes me holier-than-thou, I will let you figure out how to deal with it.

Yes, I hyperbolate occasionally.  It is my own signature coping mechanism, and I shan't give it up.

It's why I listen to the occasional country song.  ("Red solo cup!  I fill you up!  Let's have a party...let's have a partaaaaaay!")

It's why I sometimes use replacement vocabulary.  Dingdangdadgummit.  Shut.  The.  Front.  Door. 

It's why I can blog about boots and scarves and nail polish one day, and the Ecclesia the next. 

It's why I can think deep thoughts about pneumatology, but there was that time I almost lit my big toe on fire, and that other time when I couldn't properly signal a right turn while driving....instead, I honked my horn.  (??!  I have yet to figure that one out.  Don't you try to figure it out, either.  You'll never do it in a million years.)

The deep thinker is the real me.  The idiot-me is comic relief.  The hyperbolic mess is just for fun.

Love me...accept me...for who I am not.  Who I am won't scare you.  That other girl might.

Countdown to the Fall Launch Begins...{so much love will be in the shop for your holidays}

This design is the culmination of about a year's worth of tweaking.  I happen to love aged metal filigree - but on its own, it isn't very wearable, particularly with a heavy feature piece added to it.  I love to add something beautiful to the filigree - either my soldered designs, or any vintage or unusual new piece I happen to come across.  But they almost always end up too heavy, making the filigree cuff, on its own, difficult to keep arranged properly on the wrist.

I also love leather.  I can't get away from it, and I have tried to.  It finds its way back into almost all my designs.  But on its own, it can get ho-hum.

And so, voila.

So much of art is process.  You find out what doesn't work, far more often than you discover what does work.  I have pretty much discovered two hundred ways you cannot add a statement piece to filigree.

And one way that...oh yes, you can.

So...just as an aside...try not to balk at the price of an online course, or a piece of artisan jewelry.  I know what it is like to be on the tightest of budgets.  But trust me - you could not teach yourself or make it for that price, because you would have to buy the tools, and that is just the beginning.  You would then have to spend even more money and days and hours of your time in a trial-and-error process.

I am proud to be a maker...for you...

This beauty will be in the shop soon.  And she may be a "one-off" since I am loathe to repeat designs.

My artistic ADD gets the better of me.

FALL LAUNCH ~ My Art, As a Toss Pillow {..."comfort art"...}

I will be doing my second annual "fall launch" very soon...and I couldn't be more proud of this year's new things:

This piece started its life as a mixed media original, that sold rather quickly.  This winged-girl simply says, "In her life, youth and old age met in the middle and gave her wings to fly..."

She is only $25 for the cover (no insert), or $35 for the pillow cover with insert.

"Wings to Fly" has been one of my most beloved pieces - you've loved it as cards and prints, and now an 18"x18" pillow.  You'll want to get your order in soon...she WILL "fly" out of here.  {I have only 6 for a first run...I can make more, but the wait will be ten days to two weeks.}

This sweet little redhead says, "She chose to believe everything God says about her..."

Who doesn't need to be reminded to choose THAT?

DO you know?  I mean, do you really know?

Knowing this is a life-long quest, and full of delight.

These will be up in the shop soon!

New Cards In The Shop {...the handwritten note is making a BIG comeback...}

Did you know?  The handwritten note is making a BIG comeback.  It's all over the design blogs, all over Pinterest, all over...everywhere.

I want to help you bless others with your words, so the inside of each of my cards is blank.  I am offering a large assortment of my art pieces, as sets of 4 cards, with envelopes - and even as single cards, with its own envelope.  All my cards are printed on luscious paper.  Enjoy...

..and check them out here...

{And thank you so very much for all your care and support.  It means the world!}

My Best Art Show Yet {...an emotional weekend...}

Thank you, Knoxville. Thank you, Whittington Creek community. Thank you, clients and friends. Because of your support, I broke my record for sales in one show!













The Preacher and I loaded down his F150 on Thursday. We worked so hard to set up an inviting space, and fill it with my original art.














Friday, Saturday, and most of Sunday looked like this. I met so many great people, both vendors and customers.















I so appreciated that so many of my friends dropped by. This is Jonathan and his beautiful girl, Elisa. LOTS of others came by...this is about the only picture I had time to capture, though.














...she sold! She is only my third sculpture, and she went to a lovely home, and a new client. And you know what? I miss her.



Come Sunday at 5, we had to take down my tent and pack everything up. Then we went to see my youngest son at the MEPS (Military Entrance Processing Station) location - a downtown motel. We shared dinner with him there, and when we had to leave him, I waited until The Preacher and I got to our truck...then, I cried until I couldn't breathe.


Then, early Monday morning, we went back downtown to be a part of this...
























He was sworn in, officially, and just like that...

...he was gone. He is on Parris Island as we speak, receiving the best training in the world...to become the less than 1% of world population...

A United States Marine.

The boy will beast it, we know.

But this week....I am careworn and weary to the bone. I'd appreciate your prayers.





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My Calling, My Privilege, My Joy {Telling the Stories of Women Through Art...}

This morning, I gathered some of my most recent finished pieces together...

...pieces that I have completed, scanned, and had made (at considerable cost) into the most

breathtaking (if I do say so myself) giclees.

I hung them, gallery style, on my dining room wall.

I wanted to get an idea of the "full effect" when I place the originals all in one tent - my tent - at my art show in two weeks.

Here is what I saw:

I confess...like a proud mother, I almost got teary-eyed.  So, in the interests of clarity and fairness, I called my neighbor to come give her opinion.  {...the fact that my neighbor is one of my daughters should have no bearing on the outcome...}

SHE got teary eyed.  But what happened next, I did not expect.  She then noticed something I. had. never. realized.

You see, I painted all these in random order...at different times...giving each one my full love and attention, never, never-ever thinking about the piece that came before, or what I'd paint next.

Hannah said, "Mom.  Look.  These tell the story of a woman's whole life."

And with a little re-arranging of their order, I saw what she meant.

I about fell over.  {...we say that, here in the south...}

Sure enough - 

You see my piece entitled "Before Her Wedding", lower left.  Then "Expectant", top right.  Then, "The Mother", lower right.  The smallest piece top left represents the community that supported her in those seasons.

Then, the other side -

The top left picture for me represents my twin daughters.  For someone else, that piece could remind them of their own daughters, or of a mother and daughter, or of a woman and her friend - all, irreplaceable components in a woman's life.

The bottom left piece is entitled "Mother and Son".  Oh, that piece alone has a million stories in all its many, intricate layers, and a lot of emotion.  The bottom right piece is entitled "The Grandmother".  And again, the (smallest) painting, top right,  is the second in my diptych;  it represents the "village"...the spiritual community that it took for me the woman to be able to grow and flourish in this fallen world.  

Do you see it?

Do you see how, without trying to, I have by the grace of God created a body of work that tells a story that for me is powerful?  Can you see why my Personal Art Consultation has become the most important, fulfilling thing I do?  {I interview women, hear their stories, and paint something for them that depicts the significance of who they are...}

I have a new dream job.  I can't wait to be hired to sit down with a woman and hear her stories...see the color of her hair...get a sense of her gifts...find out her most significant life events...and go back to my studio and paint six to eight paintings that depict her life stories, from early-on, right up till today...all various sizes, but able to be made into a gallery wall exactly like what is in my home -

I know it will happen.  I feel like I know that I will get to do it.  Perhaps sooner than I realize.

PS.  Every piece here is available for you to purchase as a giclee that can depict your story or stories. As you can see, the impact of creating a gallery wall is beautiful.  I invite you to become a collector of my work.  Feel free to contact me here, with this link.

{I can't believe I finally get to say things like this...seriously.  I am living a dream I have not earned and do not deserve.  All is indeed grace.}

Worship Is My Wings {...the only way to take flight in the middle...}

So I'm not even going to begin with a lame apology.

The facts being what they are, I couldn't not take some time off from podcasting and blogging and even life coaching.

It is what happens when your youngest son swears in as a Marine recruit.

It is what happens when you are preparing for a juried art show.

It is what happens when your mother has a cancer scare {praise God, she is in the clear, now!}

It is what happens when your church has three guest speakers and two weddings in the space of about six weeks.

It is what happens when you get addicted to canning produce from your garden.

It is what happens when you have to cancel a beach vacation.

It is what happens when your heart is breaking right in half, because people can be so foolish and unseeing and uncaring concerning the very heart of God.

It is what happens when life presses in fiercely, and you cannot in good conscience escape to hard liquor or pills or even (too many) crack sticks.

But I have been working very, very hard, and very, very long hours.  This has not been "a break".  This has been survival - taking time off from things I love a lot, to tend to things I love with all my heart.

I have finished my first two clay sculptures.  Here is the one I was working on today:

She is based on my "In The Middle" series of paintings, and last year's  31 Days Project, which was a full-on party I threw for no reason, for all us girls "in the middle".

She reads, "The beauty of youth and the wisdom of age met in the middle and gave her wings to fly..."

Now, I want you to sit down, right here, right now.  Here's a cup of coffee.  Here's a lap blanket.

We need to talk.

I have seen credit given for a woman suddenly finding her wings to so many things/ideas/persons.  I have heard women say "art" saved them.  I have heard women say that going into a multi level marketing business saved them.  I have heard them ascribe credit to motherhood, a man, a divorce, and eating gluten free.  (And obviously, not all those things are bad...)

In the interests of contributing to the conversation, I want to tell you that I too have found my wings - smack dab in midlife.  I have been experiencing what it means to soar above.  Can I tell you what has given me wings?  In spite of all kinds of sorrow, overwhelming responsibilities, and in spite of my every failure, can I tell you where these wings of mine have come from?

Worship is my wings.

Not art.  Not finding out who God has called me to be, now that my children are grown (though that has been amazing).  Not the empty nest, no matter how much I have come to enjoy that.  Not even grandchildren.

{...did I really just say that...}

Back to this sculpture.  I finished her up, just today.  I painted out her arms and hands, and put the words down the front of her dress.  As I was adding the doodles with my trusty Uniball (which you could not pry from my cold, dead hands...I have discovered THE PEN that will write over ANYthing) I was listening to this:






About two minutes in, I had to put that beloved Uniball down.  Tears were streaming, for no real reason.  I closed my eyes, and lifted both hands, and just took off in the spirit.

I flew.

Every burden lifted.

Totally refreshed, in a matter of moments.

I soared high above the mundane.

I soaked in the love of God.

I almost physically felt the anointing of the Holy Spirit being poured out on me, starting at the top of my head, dripping down past my shoulders, covering me with passion and purpose.

"Let us become more aware of Your presence....Let us experience the glory of Your goodness..."

Yes.

When I finally opened my eyes, arms raised, this is what I was eye to eye with:

Powerful moment.  I can't begin to tell you.

Art has not given me wings.  Rather, art is a tool I use to express the worship of the God  who has given me wings.

As she and I were eye to eye, her posture mirroring mine, I suddenly realized where every. single. thing. I create comes from.  I think I knew it already, in my head.

But after today, I know deeply and truly, I know in my heart...

...worship is my wings.