Permission to Thrive

     What do you need to give yourself permission to do in order to thrive? What changes do you need to make so that you can feel affirmed and capable and move ahead?

    This sweet hibiscus had a few blooms when I brought it home from the store, then nothing for weeks and weeks and weeks. Finally, I said to myself and her, that it was okay with me if she never bloomed again. Her leaves were a lovely shade of green and that in itself was enough beauty. 

    This allowed me to enjoy her as she is and to focus on her care right where she is at. I kept watering her and used the plant food I bought. 

    And then one day, when she was able, she bloomed. She has the biggest blossoms I have ever seen on one of my hibiscus plants. Ever. Once I gave her permission to just be, it freed both her and me.

    Then I realized, I need to give that same grace to myself. I need to accept that it is okay to change as I go, that some goals need to be altered, as life and circumstances are so changeable. Changing your plan or changing your mind does not mean you have failed. It means you realize you need to make changes in order to continue to learn and grow, to truly thrive.

Cookie Fan Art, Project #3

     I started my 3rd cookie fan art project back in March, and then life got silly so it took me until the last weekend of April to complete it. Then life got even sillier, and now it has taken me until the middle of May to write up my blog post on it.

    This project is based off of one of my favorite Little Golden Books-The Color Kittens by Margaret Wise Brown. She is probably best known as the author of Goodnight, Moon. Illustrations are by Alice and Martin Provensen. I always found the pictures quite enchanting when I was younger. 

    Life can be hard on little children. Christmas comes just once a year, your birthday lasts but a moment, and then it’s gone. In the long stretch between those important holidays I would get mopey and lament that I sure wished someone would give me a present. 

    For those occasions, my mother had a stash of Little Golden Books wrapped in tissue paper that she stored in the hall cupboard. When I would wish for a present, she would grab one of the books for me. The books were maybe fifty cents a piece at that time. This helped bridge the gap between holidays. This also solidified my love of books and reading at an early age. 

    All good things come to an end, of course. There is the infamous story of the time I pined for a gift, my mom headed for her book cupboard, and I loudly added to my lament, “I sure wish someone would give me a present, and NOT just a book.” Children can be so hard to please! 

    Gouache was the medium used for The Color Kittens per a museum display I saw earlier this year that explored original works of art from The Golden Book Series. My cookie art decorating style still ended up being more watercolor than anything else, but I gave it a try. I created frosting washes and used edible painting markers as well. I also did a little fondant work and poured and painted painted with candy melts. I am quite happy with how these turned out.

Is There a Point?

     Is there a point? There might not be. We so often strive to find purpose and meaning in every little thing. Sometimes there is no deeper meaning than what is happening at the surface level, and that is okay.

    I think with my cookie fanart projects I am trying to capture an aspect of my childhood where you get totally lost or submersed in your play or creativity. I have faint memories of what that was like, to have time melt away, to have all worries and stresses fade out, and just be fully immersed in what I am doing in that moment.

    This is the sensation I am hoping to recapture, to help add to the arsenal of activities and processes that will continue to heal and strengthen my soul.

    Every aspect of these projects brings me so much happiness-from the planning, the reminiscing about favorite books, the creating of elements of the projects, and then the fun of putting all the pieces together. I hope you are able to find ways to engage your whole being in creativity as well.

Cookie Fan Art Project 2023, #1

     New Year's Resolutions are not for me. They just seem like another way to fail. It's not that I don't believe in trying to do your best for in setting goals, I do. It just has never worked out for me to set yearly goals. I get overwhelmed or I start off well, and if I make one mistake or drift a bit, I abandon ship.     

    In 2021 I created a baking project for myself at the beginning of the year, the goal being to try at least 12 new to me recipes. It was a great success. I learned a lot, tried new processes and explored new flavors, and had fun sharing my results with friends and family.

    I ended 2022 creating a cookie project based on a Poem from a favorite childhood book of mine-that had cemented my love of cookies and reading, way back when I was about 3 or 4. I had so much fun with that project, that it became the foundation of my 2023 project.

    This year I am going to do a monthly (or maybe more-just depends) cookie fan art project from favorite books of mine. I will include reasons why I love the art in a particular book, techniques I used to create the cookies, book reviews, and baking tips.

    My first cookie project of the year is-Green Goo-with illustrations by Trey Chavez. We were partnered when my story was part of a contest. My book earned a digital publishing contract, in part, due to Trey's AMAZING illustrations. When we initially worked on the project together, I didn't really have any special instructions for Trey, just for him to read the story and do his thing. I never mentioned in the story that I pictured the main character as a redhead, and yet, that was what Trey came up with on his own. It was interesting to see my storyboard scratching's compared to what Trey created. I am always and forever thankful for Trey's work.

    When my story's rights reverted back to me and I had the chance to produce a printed copy of my book, I was so glad Trey was able to partner with my on this as well. It is the most current illustrations that I based my cookie fan art on for this project.

    In this project it was my first time trying to sculpt a cookie a bit more, layering the dough and carving it and baking it in layers. This was also my first time trying to create a comic book effect by outlining characters and objects with black edible ink.

    My pro-tip baking advice-I ALWAYS use salted butter-because on almost every baking show I have watched, the most common thing that contestants get dinged for is not enough salt, seasoning, or flavor.

My rough sketch on the left, Trey's AMAZING work on the right.

The cookies in comparison to the OUTSTANDING illustrations.

 

Three Minute Resurrection

     Almost at the two-year mark for when my dad suddenly became seriously ill. I’m not sure what I expected at this point. I suppose I hoped to be less surprised, less shocked, and less disappointed by the turn of events, and then by how everything unraveled in such a devastating fashion.

    As I see memories come up in my feed, from just over two years ago, just before the bottom dropped out of everything, I am so grateful that I had no idea what was coming. I am slowly sorting it out and beginning to accept that nothing could have changed the outcome. Maybe it could have been slowed, or prolonged, but the outcome would have ended the same. This is progress. I still don’t always believe these truths, though. Someday I hope to embrace this completely.

    There are still plenty of days where I hope for a shift of time and space. Some days I still secretly hope that the outcomes I wanted will suddenly transpire. That has always been one of my main coping mechanisms, spending a good portion of my days residing in fantasy-land.

    Happily, my dad has one cousin that is still alive. She is named after their grandfather the same as my dad. She recently turned 89. I was messaging her and her husband, sending birthday greetings and wishes to her. I asked her if she would write down memories from her childhood, whether just her own or ones that involved my dad as well.

    She answered me right away, telling the story of when their own grandmother had died. She was fourteen, my dad’s brother was ten, and my dad was seven at the time. As was the tradition at that time, the wake and the funeral took place in their grandparents’ house. The three children were tasked with walking to the front, where their grandmother’s body was in her open casket, and they had a corsage that they were to put on her, the oldest cousin, Wilma, being the one to pin it on their grandmother’s lapel.

    As the three children solemnly walked to the front, my dad, the sweet seven year old, leaned over and whispered to his older cousin to be sure to be careful and not stick grandma with the pin.

    This made me laugh out loud. My dad always had that sweet nature, not wanting anyone to be hurt. It also reminded me of my own struggles at age seven in trying to understand what death meant, what it meant to be dead. I had a little friend that died in an accident when I was five, and at age seven I still would wake up in the night and call for my mother, asking questions about why my friend died, and what it really means to be dead.

    In  hearing this new to me story, for a few brief minutes my dad was alive again.

So, This Is 100?

     I have been thinking all day about what  I might post. Should I do a final re-cap on my baking journey and goals from 2021? Should I shake the dust of 2021 from my shoes and focus on the goals and dreams that are 2022? Then when I logged into my blog I saw that this is going to be my 100th post. It feels like it should be monumental, that I should somehow mark it with some special wisdom. 

    Except that I don't have any great advice. The more I think on it, the more it turns from a happy thought to anxiety. Isn't that true in life? It sure is for me.

    And that brings me back to my exploration of words that I started towards the end of last year. I think there have been times in my life when I have not fully appreciated or respected the power that words have, the words we choose to replay in our minds, the words we assign ourselves, our situations, and others. 

    I must become a better caretaker of the words I use when I speak to myself and to others. When I tell fictional stories, when I tell my stories, and when I help others tell their stories I need to use great care and respect with the words that are used to convey these truths.

    Here's to the hope of a new year, to the community that comes from sharing our stories, and the hard work of thoughtfully choosing the words we give to each other.