Edison Rex

Postcard from a Walkabout: Nature Hike

 

Another moment from my summer hiatus. Enjoy!

On 4th of July weekend, during one of Dennis' out-of-town days, Thommy and I spent the entire day alone. And it was beautiful.

I'd purposely (and purposefully) both unplugged from technology for the weekend and made no social plans for this particular day. Usually I like to make lots of playdates, especially when it's just the two of us for a long stretch. But I realized that while get-togethers are a major component of mama-sanity, I don't always need such preventative measures. Me and Thommy also need some time to just...be. Together, without places to be or things to do. So like so many seekers before us, we went to the woods.

I think of this day as Thommy's first nature hike. While he's been out in nature before, and a lot, this was his first real trek through the woods where we really walked. On a path. For a while. As opposed to walking in small circles, while trying to keep him from eating dirt, sinking into a mud pit, or jumping into a pond.

 

Thommy made sure to leave a trail of rice cake crumbs so that we could find our way home.

 

 
He also--kindly, sweetly--found pinecones on the forest floor and attempted to reattach them to the nearest tree. As I gently tried to explain how that wouldn't work, one caught and stayed! Silly grownup.

Then we played the Musical Tree--each of the broken branches makes a different tone when hit with a stick, so you can make up a song.

 

 
We had a vegetable picnic in the woods by the Musical Tree, and survived a little tree root knee scraping, too. Then we hit the dusty trails for home--and let me tell you, there's nothing much sweeter than walking hand in hand with your little one through the woods.

Postcard from a Walkabout: Salem and Besties

Hey there! It's another installment of "Postcards from a Walkabout" where I share some snippets from my summer of zen.

In August we took a family road trip east to Salem, MA to visit my best girl Marykate and her husband Matthew. I love them. They're family. And I dream that some day they might live in our happy valley again.

But for now, they are out near the bustling city of Boston. Whenever we visit, though, we gravitate toward the quiet gems of Salem. Our first stop is usually a park right on the ocean. 
 
 
Aren't Marykate and Matt (top and left) just lovely? I'm gathering the courage and pocketchange for my first tattoo. Marykate's gorgeous milkweed ink inspires me every time I see her.

 
 We had to compete with a brave bunch of teenagers on bikes to ride down this steep concrete slide. Marykate and Aurora opted to use cardboard instead of wheels. Seriously, this thing is fast, hard, and flanked by rocks. A toy from another era, before bike helmets and seatbelts were the norm.

Aurora's favorite part of the trip is the Willows, a boardwalk of sorts with every arcade game and junk food you remember from your childhood. Last year Thommy was far too small to appreciate such wonder, but now he totally gets skeeball (sort of, as you'll see) and french fries. He's still a year or two from the ritual of ticket-counting and careful prize-choosing.

 
 
 
 
 
I wanted to share with your the sunset over the ocean, as the Willows is right on the coast, too, but sadly my camera batteries died from my incessant picture-taking.

It was a sweet day, and hard to leave. Seeing friends who have known you forever, through every sort of happy or terrible time, is so so good.

Is there someone far away you saw this summer, or who you want to see?

Terrarize Your Neighborhood (Or, a Sweet & Simple Terrarium How-To)

  

O, terrariums, how do I love thee? Quite a bit, and until recently, only from afar.

This summer I decided it was time to stop coveting each and every succulent-filled Ball jar I came across on the web, and make my own no-fuss, budget-and-kid-friendly terrariums. My self-imposed ground rules for this project were simple: I would keep it free and local by only using things I found around my home or neighborhood. Plus I wanted to have some fun--a little mini-adventure for Aurora and I. So we packed Thommy in his stroller, left Dennis to savor some rare alone time, and hit the pavement.

 
We had a great time exploring our little corner of the world for treasures to bring home. It brought our attention to tiny things--specks of moss under some brush, an oddly shaped stone--that we don't tend to notice in everyday life.

Here are the essentials you'll need to make your own terrarium:

1. Inspiration: We'd borrowed some books from the library, but the web is also a great resource for terrariums (I'll be sharing some of my faves here tomorrow).

2. Containers: Take a peek in your recycle bin and cabinets for some great glass. We raided our pantry for Ball jars, baby food jars, even old wide-mouth glass vases.

3. Sand: We had playground sand in our garage. Check! Though I'm sure we would have found a sandy, gravelly alternative in our travels.

4. Moss, plants, sticks, and whatever inspires you. While foraging our neighborhood we found an abundance of interesting mosses, tree barks, pine cones, rocks. I also had some tiny seashells I'd brought home from traveling, and a jade cutting that a coworker had gifted me (thanks, Johanna!). Miniature animals are a great addition, too.

 
 
Once we'd gathered everything we needed, the rest was simple:

1. Pour a half inch to an inch of sand into the bottom of our glass containers.

2. Layer with moss, and place any plants securely in the sand and moss, too.

3. Add any trinkets, shells, rocks, twigs, bark, etc. that strike your fancy. Tweezers are perfect for placing things in small terrariums.

4. Spritz your creation with water every few weeks to keep mosses green. Leave the top off your container, too. But don't fret if, over time, your terrariums fade. They're not meant to be permanent, though ours have been greening our kitchen for months. Enjoy!

 
 
 
After my first taste of terrarium glory, I'm tempted to go a little more luxe with my next ecosystem-in-a-jar project. But there's something about these home-made, neighborhood grown pieces that I love. It's not just the greenery--they're infused with adventure and lady-bonding. And they are still thriving, which shows me that creating terrarium beauties isn't rocket science. So if you've been coveting them, too--get out there, and make your own! And if you do--by all means, please post links to some pictures!

xo, Maeg

Postcards from a Walkabout: In Pictures

A walkabout summer, in pictures. Lots of love. Lots of family. A giant boat, and a gianter sea. Woods, play, and more love. Enjoy. xo, Maeg

  
 

Thank you so much for coming to the party. I'm so, so glad you're here. I hope you had a great time. Come back anytime, or subscribe by feed, bloglovin, or email in the sidebar to your left. Also, don't forget to check out my beautiful sponsors to the right. They rock and are sure to inspire you.

I'll be back tomorrow with some pics from a group gallery show including yours truly!

thank you xoxo Maeg

 
 

Guest Star Gina Hief: Take Your Studio on a Cross-Country Road Trip

 
Say hello to Gina Hief. She's an illustrator about to embark on a two month cross country journey. She's been purging her possessions, scaling back to the barest minimum in prep for hitting the road. Her studio is coming, too--well, whatever can fit in the trunk.

Artists have a lot of baggage. No offense, but we do!

 
I’m not referring to baggage of the emotional variety (although a great many famous artists have had their fair share of that too!) – I’m talking about to the literal kind. My studio inventory looks a little something like this: desk, computer, scanner, printer, tablet, easel, paint, pens, brushes, paper, clippings, glue, bookcase, books, ribbons, embroidery floss, needles, embroidery hoops, wool, jewelry bench pin/anvil , saw frame, small torch, 3 micro-controllers, multimeter, switches, camera, tripod, lights, and sketchbooks – lots of sketchbooks!

Is your list just as long? What would you do if you had to take your supplies on the road?

That’s exactly what I’m doing right now. I’m preparing for 2 month journey across the country. My goal is to turn my overflowing studio into a “travel-friendly studio” - one that will allow me to keep my eclectic mixed-media style. In order to make this traveling studio possible, I’ve had to part with many of my precious art making items from the inventory list. The first to go: small metal-working equipment. I loved the jewelry courses in college, but I just don't have the time make my own metal jewelry anymore.

Next on the chopping block: the physical computing supplies (micro-controllers, etc). These gadgets are better off in the hands of a tech savvy creative who has the time to program “if-else” sequences. Lord knows, I just don’t have it in me anymore! While the camera and tripod are important I opted to ditch the lights (since I use natural light these days) and go for a smaller high end point and shoot. My Nikon P300 is perfect for the road and takes beautiful photos. And what would I do without my trusty computer, scanner, printer and tablet? After some thought, I just couldn't see myself whipping out my Wacom at the Holiday Inn instead of exploring small town USA. But - I can’t throw my electronic valuables away either, so I’m packing them up and storing them at a relative’s house during the trip.

Easels: gone! Bookcase: adios! Books…..these were much harder to part with. I am one of those I-have-a-special-relationship-with-my-books people. But alas, they too must go! In the interest of downsizing, I bought a Nook to carry my reads from now on (and I can still check out library e-books on it too)!

 

After hours of selling, donating, and saying my goodbye’s - I’m left with my Studio 2 Go! The new inventory list is considerable lighter: portfolio, paper, sketchbook (one only), paint, pencils, pens, needles, embroidery floss, tape, glue, a few carrying bags for easy transportation and of course my imagination (among a few other things). All told, it takes up a pretty small amount of space, and will fit nicely in the trunk with our clothes and camping gear. Learn more about my fabulous cross country journey at ginahief.com.

In order to downsize and simplify my studio I had to truly look within my myself and ask: "What do I really need to make my art?" The answer wasn't easy, but I learned a lot about myself as an artist through this process. Purging my extra art baggage has given me a lighter freer feeling.

My challenge for you this week is to think about what you really need to make the art you want to be making. Then go through your studio and take away any supply or tool that does not support the work you want to make. It will be hard to do at first, but trust your own inner voice. You don't need to be going on a cross country trip to have a lighter studio, it something you can work towards at any time in your life. Happy Minimizing!

Guest Star Sarah Platanitis: Living the Dream

 

It's my pleasure to introduce Sarah of Anselblue Design Studio, a tiny studio making fantastic goods for kitchen and home. Before she was a full-time creative, Sarah had a day job. And then she quit it. She's been living the dream for the past year, and I asked her how it was going, since I know it's not just dreaminess...it's a lot of hard work and hustle, too. Sarah kindly riffed on the topic for us, and recorded her thoughts and experience aloud. Want to know what's it's like to make the leap from day job to dream job? Just click and listen here.

Thank you, Sarah!

xo Maeg

Postcard from a Walkabout // We All Float On: Tapping Into Everday Zen.

Hello! Welcome to the blog party! We'll be rockin' out, posting all day long, about all things good and creative. I've got some amazing guest stars posting soon, too. Since I'm just coming back after a long hiatus (aka The Walkabout), I thought it only appropriate that I'd start out with this post I wrote about my time away. (By the way, if you're viewing this in a reader, check out the site makeover here). Enjoy!

Welcome to the first installment of Postcards from a Walkabout, where I'll be sharing moments and musing from my summer of zen.  

 
 

It is the end of July. I am floating on my back on a rubber mat in the Carribbean, in the protected turquoise lagoon of a tiny island. I lean back, feel my body submerge slightly, and bob up and down with the waves while the sun warms me.

It feels. So. Good.

There is nothing to do. Nowhere to be. Nothing to think about. I even forget that tomorrow involves eight hours of travel back to New England. As far as I know in this moment, I am already home.

 

Rewind a few days. Same island, same beach. I am decked out in full snorkel gear and doggedly searching out tropical fish in a roped-in, snorkelers-only area of the lagoon. I might as well be looking for sea life in my bathtub, because the water is empty--save one sad, gray fish who swims by me over and over in a lame attempt to seem like a multitude.

Entrenched in my search, awkwardly stomping the sea floor in giant black flippers, I gaze out at all the people beyond the rope, just floating on mats, in tubes. “How lazy! They’re all just...FLOATING!” I think, before I stick my face in the water to stare at some sand and seaweed for awhile.

I didn't understand the floating. Yet.

Vacations are like that: it takes time to slough off the dead skin of day jobs and stress, errands and tile scrubbing, pent-up wishes and not being in the moment. I know I'm not the only one who's experienced this molting process. Shrugging off those layers is a discovery. My thoughts become different. What I care about in the moment is different. What’s normally a pretty focused and happy mind suddenly runs clear with waterfalls and mango juice and disinfecting sunlight.

But it seems that when I finally start to hit that sweet spot of peace and relaxation, of deep attunement, it’s time to grab the passports and go back to New England.

After the boat docking, van ride, plan ride, shuttle ride, and car ride, my husband and I were finally home from our trip and taking a walk around the neighborhood. As much as I love my home, I felt crushed and disappointed to be there. I needed to get back! To the waterfalls, and mango juice! To the floating.

We walked hungrily, stretching our legs, breathing real air for the first time all day, as I tried to verbalize my thoughts. "How do I get back there?" I asked my husband, plaintive. "It takes so long to get there, to feel like that, and then I have to leave."

"You don't get there," he said. "It's always there. You just tap into it."

I was floored. The floating is not a place. It's a state of mind.

Like most things that are new to me, this was not a new concept in the world. But I was shocked. I come from a place of striving, trying, going. That something so powerful as floating mind was always there, accessible but unseen, just waiting beyond a magic little elf door in the universe, was shocking to me. All I had to do was knock. Or "tap into it." No passports, travel, time, trapeze or other special skills required.

So I've been practicing my gentle knock, my tapping. Whenever floating mind seems to be floating away, I just tap in. "I can tap into it!" I say, and return to the moment with a breath. It takes a moment, a reminder to get there. I'm just as capable of being expansive and free here, as there. Now, as then. It is, of course, a practice. I often forget, and my clarity can still feel a little muted by the cacaphony of daily living.

I know this is more of a letter than a postcard. Either way, from the heart.

Tell me, what is your "floating mind" like? In what places and situations is it likely to show up spontaneously? What ways do you tap into it during your daily life?

xoxo, Maeg

Twist in Pictures

Whew! Six long work days in a row does not a peppy preggo make. But I love it! And after a Sunday of pj's past noon (never happens) and some time in the sunshine, I'm feeling pretty refreshed. And the past two days at Twist in Northampton absolutely rocked! I had such a great time and as always enjoyed seeing people's response to my work and meeting/reuniting with my neighbor vendors. Here are some visual highlights:

The beautiful ballroom of the Northampton Center for the Arts.

My (not very) shy vendor neighbor, Elise of Argyle Whale.

 

My stepdaughter Aurora and I at my table.

Aurora earned some cash at Twist, too--by drawing a portrait of Elise and her two bunnies. (The cutie in the middle is my husband, Dennis.)

 A close-up of Aurora's muse and masterpiece.

 Me, Elise, Aurora, and the lovely Laurie Coyle.

I swapped with Rachael Garceau and received this beautiful handthrown mug!

More swapping greatness...Perhaps because I too have a human in my belly, I fell in love with this cyclops-sasquatch and his angst at having swallowed someone. From pinecone + chickadee.

 

Twist fell on my birthday, the not-so-big-two-nine, and I received some lovely surprises! Thank you Annalee for the roses (amazing!) and book! Thank you Dennis for the chai delivery and love note, and Aurora for helping out! And also a very special thank you to fellow Twister Meghan Burch who surprised me with one of her gorgeous ornaments (above). I can't wait to put it on our tree.

I hope you all had a great weekend as well. I think my pajamas are calling me back...

Knitty knitty mermaids

Another highlight of our trip to the Cape was a rainy day outing to the Cahoon Museum. Ralph and Martha Cahoon were two folk artists known for their whimsical mermaid paintings. I have a vague recollection of visiting this museum and seeing their paintings when I was little (some early influence, I think), but alas, all the pieces I remember were in storage during our visit. Here are a few shots from paintings and prints:

 

Here's one of the prints we took home--I'm amazed by the bird and fish hot air balloons.

 

Print detail. Dunce caps!

 

It's the first Stitch n' B*tch group! (Excuse the glare!)

 

The exterior of the house, which was formerly the home of Ralph and Martha Cahoon.

How I Spent My Summer Vacation

Dennis, Aurora, and I just got back from a few days on Cape Cod. Other than sunburning through my SPF 70, it was a fabulous trip. We rode the waves, saw some great art (next post), stayed in a lovely place, played pirate golf, and relaxed. I also...drumroll...did not use the internet or watch television the entire time! I don't think I've unplugged that long since...last summer! It felt good and definitely made me rethink my not-so-secret wish for an IPhone.

One of the highlights of our trip was a whalewatch. Now, based on vague whalewatch memories from my childhood, my expectations for this lil' adventure were pretty low. An uncomfortable boat ride and a few fins in the distance, if we were lucky.

So the first part of our trip wasn't a big surprise...

 

...and thankfully Aurora was able to take cover. But my pics can't do justice to the rest of the trip.

I just snapped photos while waving my camera around in the air while trying to take in the awesome sights of humpback whales swimming up to, under, and alongside our boat. We also got to see two humpbacks team up for a feeding expedition, and caught a glimpse of their baleen up close.

I hope all of you are well and enjoying your summer!

P.S. just click to enlarge those photos!