can we please make this a thing

a few weeks ago, I drove down to charleston, south carolina to shoot mati and faith's painting retreat. it's a lovely thing to witness, women getting together to make things, to paint. it's an honor to document such an event.

it was the making of the flower crowns that won me over, though. I never knew something so simple could make me so happy. I mean, I had a hunch. because, flowers, crowns. entirely possible, er, not surprising at all I'd lose my mind over such a thing. that big plastic bucket packed with fresh flowers, the scent of eucalyptus and mums, the snipping, the wrapping, the tendrils of skinny green wire, the making of something so pretty with my own hands.

and then-- then I put that thing on my head. and reader, that was it. flower crown convert for life.

it feels pretty freaking amazing to wear a crown made of fresh flowers on your head. and for no reason in particular other than, why not. did you know that? because I don't think I knew that. and people who think they should only be reserved for weddings and maypole celebrations can suck it. flower crowns should be for everyone and any and/or all possible occasions. furthermore, flower crown making should be a required weekly event in which we all sit down, thread a few fresh flowers together with some scrap wire while we talk ish about the week. it should be required weekend attire. flower crowns while dish-washing. flower crowns while toilet-scrubbing. flower crowns while planning the mother-loving revolution.

I'll tell you, I'd like to place a flower crown on the head of every woman who has ever inspired me. on the head of the woman with the four kids at the grocery store about to lose it. on the head of the woman pulling the double shift at mcdonalds, the woman who does not know how she'll make rent this month, the woman who drives a bus all day long, the woman who looked in the mirror this morning and thought, ugh. I want to hand them out down at the corner like a crazy person. I know I can't, that I probably won't, but I want to.

and I hope that counts for something, I really do.

this time last week

(favorite valentine from ward, ever)

and all the paper heart garlands are still up. probably will be for a while. I have been known to let holiday decorations ride for months on end, until I am forced by societal conventions to take them down. the fact that christmas came down before the end of january is nothing short of miraculous. though there are still white paper snowflakes taped to the windows. those will stay up until the very last day of winter. I will not budge on that one.

in other news, ava received her first valentine from a boy, her first heart-shaped box of chocolates. I know, I know. I KNOW.

number 34

number 34 off the list and you should know that the super epic rainbow cake was totally the inspiration for ava's super epic rainbow birthday sleepover.



something else you should know: I did not bake this cake from scratch. I mean, that was my original plan but sometimes things just do not go according to plan. and so two white cake mixes and one box of assorted gel food coloring later and voila: super epic rainbow cake. my version, anyway.



it's a very tall cake. therefore, precarious.



also, once the frosting is on, it's completely unassuming. we decided early on to keep the whole rainbow thing a secret and did not tell the guests about the cake beforehand. you know, for maximum effect.



so when I finally cut into the cake, it was sort of like when oprah gave out brand new cars on her show and the women in the audience lost their minds.



for a second, I was oprah. except with a gaggle of nine year-old girls and a six layer rainbow cake. let me tell you, that moment alone was totally worth all the hard work.

totally.

(photos from the super epic rainbow party coming soon)

so close

the postcards are finally (FINALLY) finished and I am currently busy writing messages on the flip sides. each person shall receive a lovely cryptic summer poem which, if properly decoded, will reveal the secret to life.

um, just kidding. but wouldn't that be nice?





though it's a great relief to finally be writing messages and addresses-- a stage in the process I thought I'd NEVER reach. I so totally underestimated how long it would take me to make 77 postcards. if there was a cape of shame for this sort of thing, I would be wearing it. live and learn, I say. live and learn.



in the meantime, I've been receiving postcards most everyday and The Wall of Summer is growing exponentially. happy blocks of color have taken up residence on the green wall in the kitchen. it's like my very own private miniature art installation and I do so solemnly swear to share more photographs of the happy wall. until then, this lil peek will have to suffice. you can make it, can't you? it's a lovely, lovely sight. it will be worth the wait, I promise.

hello summer

happy to report: too busy enjoying the first official day of summer, unable to write anything with much substance. though I could not let the day pass without a big fat WOOHOO. a thousand times over, woohoo. I'll scream it until the lady next door has to call the police. okay, probably not but I'll be thinking it. I have been thinking woohoo woohoo woohoo all day long.


(ava made this postcard and I looove it)

also, for those who got their postcards out today, WOOHOO. for those who did not, your big woohoo is coming, not to fret. I'm still working on mine, so no woohoo for me yet either. wow, 77 postcards... is a lot of postcards. believe it or not, I am still thoroughly enjoying myself. plus, ava has enthusiastically hopped on the bandwagon and is sending summer-themed collages/postcards to all her pals. we work joyfully in silence and the afternoons pass too quickly.

happy summer, all. it's going to be a good one, I can feel it. can you feel it? now, go jump in the pool. pick some flowers, buy new bright-colored sandals, make homemade strawberry pie. or something. leave word that you're revelling in it and I'll shout out an extra woohoo in your honor. I promise.

just around the corner

furiously at work on postcards here, how about you?

there are scaps of paper all over the bed-- I find them hiding in the folds of the sheets and tucked discreetly under the straps of my nightgown. they show up on the bottom of my sandal, in the bathroom drawer with the hair brushes and ponytail holders. they are begging to be placed somewhere, anywhere. they float serendipitously onto my temporary workspace, or so I like to think.

what few of you know is that I put myself on every list. I couldn't see any other way around it, couldn't narrow myself to just one list, couldn't stand not to send or receive a postcard from each one of you. plus, I wanted to see if I could do it, wanted to know what it might be like to receive 77 postcards in the mail. I wonder what what my mailman will think? I am imagining a whole wall of summer and wouldn't that be lovely?

I am somewhere at the halfway point and think maybe (big maybe) I can pull it off by the first day of summer. I'll tell you, what's been interesting is the process. I've been forced to let go of certain details and think more conceptually. at first, the number of postcards I had to make seemed horribly limiting. I like to take my time and play with composition and color, add in paint, crayon, india ink. I like to come back to pieces and add things in later. had to let go of this way of working, though-- I was forced to simplify. you know something? there's a lot of freedom in that method.

I look forward to each night-- the magic hour when the kids have been put to bed and my energy levels are still high. I spread my papers and supplies out all over the bed, put in a favorite movie and get to work. more than a couple of times, I have fallen asleep in the middle of the mess, tips of my fingers still covered with glue. this would explain the scraps of paper found in my nightgown, of course. wouldn't have it any other way. I love this. and as I have said so many times before, I am a girl who needs an assignment, a project, a deadline. not sure what I'm going to do with with my nights once it's all over. sleep, maybe.

lucky for me, I have the daily trip to the mailbox to look forward to. so eager to see what my wall of summer is going to look like once the postcards have all rolled in. you can bet I will share that with you. and speaking of sharing, there's now a summer postcard swap flickr group for all you flickrites to join. please do sign up and share your process, your inspiration, what you've made, sent, received, etc... go ahead and introduce yourself. fabulous gwen organized it all (thank you so much) and the group can be found here.

now, if you'll excuse me, I've got some work to do. I figure if I give the kids some paper and glue, they can join in too and I can work during daylight hours. long long way to go yet, but savoring every minute of it.

self portrait #40 (red velvet cake)

every year, I bake a red velvet cake for my birthday. I use a recipe my mom used for years and then passed on to me. I wear a lovely old apron that once belonged to my favorite great aunt. I love that apron.



I love the part where I get to lick the batter.



I love that the recipe card is torn and taped back together, yellowed and stained with cake batter from my ten years of using it. the cookbook that the cake recipe came from, the one my mom used (and continues to use) has been coverless for at least twenty years and is in even worse shape than my recipe card. I love that. and I love that old cookbook.



I love the gorgeous shade of the batter, that it takes two whole bottles of red food coloring to get that bright red color. I'm pretty sure that much red food coloring can't be good for you. actually, you don't really need two whole bottles of red food coloring. you could get away with just one but I only make this cake once a year and I am not messing around.



I love that ava now participates in this yearly ritual with me and will one day bake the cake for herself. or her family. or me.



I love that my birthday cake looks like it's on fire. I earned every last one of those candles, yes I did.



it took me ten years to get this cake right. the first one I made was ridiculously flat, the frosting sad and lumpy. I ate it anyway. ward did too. but I kept on baking it year after year, no matter how flat it turned out or how strange it tasted. now it's a little bit of heaven. every december 11th. I love that.

(the entire red velvet cake-baking process is here and more red self portraits are here)