You ride the waves and don't ask where they go

Lil Ellie says hello.
And she lives here

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Were just spinning on some granite/That we like to call a planet

IMG_5626, originally uploaded by nextography.

We might have gone to the Ohio State Fair today. I like to go each year and look at the animals and decorated cakes and eat fried foods on sticks and rub shoulders with the carnies. I mean is there any thing more fascinating and interesting than the carnie life? But, Finn woke up ill. I should have known. Whenever he is mean it is often followed by sickness. He is sleepy sick all day and we won't do much. Not today.

I have only come here seeking knowledge

The day got better. Finn found his groove and we all came back to a sweeter place. Finn found dad's Stanley tape measure and measured the whole house twelve times. When he dozed off on our bed today I looked him up and down and tried to listen to the words of my friend Paige- She told me yesterday that next year I will look back and think what a baby he was. He is a baby still. He is not going to reason with me just yet. Perhaps never. I am also still a young and green mother too, no matter my age or how much knowledge I have gained swinging on the learning curve. I am still growing and I need to think about this. It's all good.






egg cartons and small objects

I let Blaise play with Finn's counting bears this morning as Finn was upstairs. It was a nice little 20 minutes just for me and Blaise. He covets the little bears and is smart enough to know that we keep them in a tackle box with other tiny choking hazards and will point to the box and grunt!
I let him play with them today for some simple fine motor time. He loved the sorting and dumping and picking up and supervised I think it is fine to let young ones play with tiny objects.

I want to come back here today and have something to say about my day that is good. We were supposed to go to the art museum today, but Finn's behavior was terrible this morning and running on little sleep (thanks to Blaise the insomniac) I was terrible right back. I can see myself, like I am outside of my body, parenting the opposite of my true belief. The mother I do not want to be. He was reacting to me. I had scared him with my anger. I am sure that these days are scattered over the relationship landscape of parent and child, but they still suck. They still sting.

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And castles are burning in my heart

So I think in an attempt to not work on my novel I have been going through old writings. I mean really old ones, the ones that live suspended in the place where I first really considered the writing life. I wrote this story below for a writing workshop at college and it has hung over my head ever since. I find it ever so often in a folder or something. I think it wants to fly and only she knows how it should have became something many years ago. I have never revised it though, bc I am just not sure if it is a novella or a poem or a short story or an essay. I know that the bones are good and timeless and could stand alone someday.

I thought I would share it. I am going to just dry read it after many years and not edit/ it will be rough as a random kid or music or doorbell might be in the background. If yr feeling blue it will probably make you laugh at some points. Ah youth.

Also- my garage band is down and I had to make an imovie for the sound- sorry bout the blank screen- but just close yr eyes. :)

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In that tenderness I am floating away

We let the boy stay up late last night. We are pretty strict about our 7:30 bedtime round these parts, but there was something about the heat of the day and how it slithered into a remarkable evening that loosened me.

There was something about how patient he had been with mom and dad working all day at home. There was a good vibe and so we told him he could stay up to see the lightening bugs and stars. He fully appreciated it.

The fireflies were magical and his mouth formed perfect circles and his eyes were so very wide. Although it broke my heart that he could not remember last year's bugs.
These are amazing he said.
It also broke my heart that I have discovered he cannot remember our old house.
His old room. The place we started.
Were you really so little only last year Finn?

He could hardly brush his teeth or make it to his bed fast enough and he cried and cried simply because he was exhausted, but I didn't feel too bad about jacking up his circadian rhythm. He had a sparkly time, a perfect shiny night this summer. And I was a mama magpie swooping down and taking that glimmering moment and tucking it safe in my mind- safekeeping a memory for all of us.

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He turned to me as if to say/ hurry boy it's waiting there for you

We have made a little update to the shop. I am going gaga over the new maple toy Joe made. She is called Lil Lark Roller and she is gorgeous. We also made a Egg Shaker too! Today has been filled with work and cleaning and lots of sweat. I hope as the night falls we can relax. It is hot today. It is looking like a beer and carport kinda night. Kiss Kiss.

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Everybody's got a little light under the sun

I had the pleasure of being outdoors all day with four delicious children. Willow made it such a lovely day for me as she sang to me and talked of her love for Johnny Cash. Willow loves Johnny the way that Finnian loves Bob. Hard. I had no need to scour the blog world for inspiration today. It was all around me and has lifted me well through lunch.

A release from the humid press of days

We have been very lucky to have met many cool folks in the year that we have lived in this town. I remember driving through this area a few year ago and stopping at the local post office. It was like Brigadoon and shit. My local post office was crusty and mostly had an air of grump. This post office had donuts out on a table and smiling people. I always remembered that. I always thought that the town seemed really old school and Norman Rockwellish.

I never thought we would live here. Well, anyhoo we do now and it pretty much is living up to that fancy imagery in my mind. When we walk around we always see someone we know and all the local stores (many independent ones!!!) have characters in them that we have come to adore. Ms. E from the local copy shop has become one of our dearest. She hands out wisdom and taffy with ease and we seem to find an excuse to go in at least once a week. She gives me scrap paper and took me aside yesterday and told me that I had inspired her to create paper art and products with scraps too. She lifted a box and showed me beautiful To-Do lists pads she had made. There was energy between our smiles.

She also showed me something amazing in the basement. There are these old printing presses down there just collecting dust. She shared with me that she would love to learn how to print. My eyes were super wide and of course I told her that I had always wanted to learn too. We started making grand schemes and dreams and business plans in about 32 seconds. Isn't it great when you forget about reality for a moment and just dream?

Well, of course we have come back to earth now. Me and the boys went over today and bought some office supplies and talked. The man who owns the presses would sell perhaps, but just maybe we could learn how to print here and then do some printing and see what it is all about. Perhaps I could call her or her and inquire bc I know they are hip to it all. Perhaps you should do as many crazy things in life as you can. I still regret the fact that I left all those paper making frames in Athens, Ohio. I was going to start a handmade paper company 15 years ago. Whoops.

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I saw the crescent/You saw the whole of the moon

Cards, originally uploaded by Ian Legge.

I was eight and sleeping over at Mindy Miller's farm. I always slept over, we were best friends and all. I guess we were on our best behavior considering the previous weekend we were all busted in Mr. Miller's small cinder block garage for playing some sort of doctor game. But it was Ryan Farely, the pervert neighbor kid who had suggested it and indeed we were curious. And if Stupid Frankie Pinnel hadn't knocked over that shelf we would have been in the clear. After the talk about the sanctity of our bodies by our mothers, we made a pact to behave and at the very least to exclude Frankie from any future excursions concerning curiosity.

It was about nine o'clock and hot still. We stood outside of Mindy's house in our white cotton nightgowns. Our small flat chests chaffing against the material as we climbed the fence that divided her property from the Farley's. We always sat on that fence. It was slipping into pure black night and in the country darkness is massive. If you were a city kid or a pussy like Frankie you would be afraid, but we weren't scared of night. It meant that the tent of sky light stars would open and we would crane our necks back and talk. Talk about eight year old fears and wonder what we would look like when we were twenty. How we would change. It didn't matter much that my friend was skinny and had buck teeth or that I was chubby with incredibly large feet for my age. Everything was fine and when we looked up we weren't afraid of the curious future.

And then we heard him scream. He was yelling our names so loudly. We were busted again. Across the road. On the gate. In our nightgowns after dark. Only Mr. Miller was jumping up and down and flapping his arms and motioning us over towards the house. He was squealing and against the porch light dim we could tell he wasn't angry, only excited about something. The closer we came to the yard we could see Mr. Miller's face scrunched up and strange and his finger pointed sharp towards the green wet grass. It was there on the lawn, burning and popping. A meteorite. Mr. Miller said it was matter from the solar system. Fallen from up there. He wasn't even mad that we were on the fence because this was important he had said. Soon it was over like the way a sparkler from the fourth of July simply stops with that last shooting spark. I remember Mindy's teenage sister came home and thought we were stupid to be so excited. She hadn't seen it. She swatted us away and walked into the house. She was mean and wretched, but I still wanted to be her. I fell asleep on the top bunk that night wondering if it was anything special to see the sky fall.

Now I'm twenty three and drinking a raspberry ginger ale with my friend Pete. It is September and hot still. We are on his roof in the city. He is complaining about not being able to see the stars so well and what he going to do with himself in the Fall. I tell him about that night out at Miller's farm. He listens hard and tells me how beautiful, how rare of an occurrence. Do I know this he is asking me as he leans in closer. I hear him, like a murmur. But I am thinking, I am wondering if Mindy can remember that one night out of the hundreds we spent in childhood.

And Pete is now looking up like we all do to escape the ground. To swim around in the sky. I take out a deck of blue playing cards from my handbag and we begin to play war. I'm beating him but that's not why he's jealous. He wants to see one too. A moment that stops everything else. I can see it in the way he looks at the card that accidentally flies out of his hand and over the edge. Falling blue matter...

written in 1996/ats

You know our hearts beat time out very slowly

Finn and I found an old key strung on a cord. It is old and rusty and we have no idea what it might open. My dad came by today and dropped off brown paper bags full of crap that he had cleaned out of his barn and felt obliged to give back to me. My dad and I argued today as we do sometimes still. Over stupid things. There is no wondering about the origins of my rage. I stare into his brown eyes and feel my double helix spin madly out of control.

I have been in a piss poor mood all day and have drifted in and out of annoyance with the boys. I find myself looking around and wishing to be anywhere else than this place. Then I feel terrible and guilty and harsh. I snap and say things I do not mean. I wish my whole day was a Quaker meeting. I long for silent surrender. I wish I would only speak when moved by truth and light and good thoughts.

And the key I hope is for a tiny lock that erases the sad of the day. That turns the mechanism that throws joy into the room again.

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see your head in the fading light/and through the dark yr eyes shine bright

I have been trying to catch up on my listening. I always have music on around the house for the family, but I rarely listen to my pod casts or radio programs like I once did.
NPR was the soundtrack to my life as a young person. I got my news in the morning from NPR and most evenings I would listen to All things considered while I prepped as a server in both restaurants I worked. I knew what time it was according to the voice talking to me.
In 1994 when I had barely enough money to buy daily necessities like Camel Lights, NYTimes, coffee, and Rolling Rock I would still send my local station money because I really did love listening. I really did learn. I think I learned about David Sedaris on NPR for the first time and started piecing together what creative nonfiction was in my head. I knew way back then that I someday wanted to have an essay read on NPR. I am pretty certain that I am never going to be famous, but I am almost convinced that I will have an essay on NPR someday. You know when you see actors or ice skaters or ballerinas or contortionist on interviews and they tell you that they were fairly certain even from a young age that they would become this or that. Well, I feel like that too with NPR. You just say Ira Glass and all the hairs on my neck shake and shiver.

Anyhoo, I was listening to some TAL on the plane and listened to a great episode. It is here.

I reminded myself to tune the knob in my brain that allows me to pay closer attention. I am always better for listening to TAL because it makes me tune in and fall in sync with the random landscape of humanity. It was perfect that I loaded my ipod with these shows before I took my trip this weekend bc I feel like picked up on many stories and listened harder to people and lingered just a bit more over those character nuances all around me. More than anything I am aware now that it is part of my job to filter. It is part of my job to pay attention and recognize those moments when they wash right over you. When they pool at yr feet...

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Photo via www.thislife.org

But she always had a carefree mind of her own/with a devilish look in

Guy Kawasaki's BlogHer Party, originally uploaded by Wendy Piersall.

I love Guy Kawasaki.
I love that I think I saw Scott Bakula at SFO.
I love that my boys are rolling round the rug and dinner hangs heavy in the air.
I love that I did something that scared me.
I love that I found the affirmation I think I needed and how it is still keeping me cozy like a shrug.
I loved meeting those folks that I met.
I loved feeling like a round peg again.
and again...

Even time can do /Good things to you.

It was refreshing to be so free last night. It is lovely to be untethered from time to time. I have been practicing extreme restraint in not allowing my mind to wander to Ohio too much while I am here. It is really OK to unplug from motherhood and loverhood for a bit. Everything is fine and this is filling me up right now, this is charging me and setting me on fire.
I love that I drank 7 beers, went to sweet Maggie's party, wore red lipstick, met stellar people, talked about zeitgeist and vino, pondered Robert Verdi's sunglasses, enjoyed my kirtsy gang, and realized that I am on the path to doing exactly what I want to do. I want to soak all of this in, filter it through a soft light, and write it down.

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What separates me from you

DUDE. They are letting me be in charge of tech stuff here - I am mic wrangler and I am nervous!
I love blogher so much
talk soon
CHECK out this! I love Karen!
xo

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i wanna rock and roll all night

Look out SF there is a wild one in town!

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But the new road is an old friend/Fill it up again

Hello! My name is Erin and I'm thrilled to be guest blogging for Amy, as she is busy gallivanting and bettering the blogging universe at Blogher.

This is a fabulous chance for me to take blogging more seriously because I have a hard time pulling it together for my own blog, although I'm working on that. Lately there has been so much going on in my life, and that of my family, that it is hard to know what should get priority. I have my little business on Etsy, my husband has his business with construction and painting, and then there are the kids... Willow and Tucker. With all of our goings on, I feel like they get whatever attention and time is left sometimes, and to help remedy that, we have finally almost finished their playroom. This is their own universe, where their ideas rule, and they don't have to clean it up everyday (just every week). They are ecstatic when it's time to play in the playroom. It is full of all sorts of bits and bobs that I would have gotten rid of, but now have a fabulous home that isn't in my living room. I really believe that it is important for them to have a room that isn't subject to the rules of everyday life. To Willow, everything has a personality, whether it be a Barbie or a hunk of plastic cheese. And Tucker likes all his toys out in the open where he can see them at the same time. And who am I to argue? Long live the Playroom!

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I don't know if I could drive a car/Fast enough to get to where you are

Hey hey---
My lovely cousin Erin is going to post for me in the morning so I can keep my blog365 promise going- I may be able to post tomorrow night (but I might be having too many cocktails and living the high life),so she is so sweet to help me out.
Please give her some love? xoxoxoxo Amy who really needs to pack!

Sunset on the Golden Gate Bridge, originally uploaded by Wiggum03.

I am going to San Fran in the morning for Blogher and I am insanely excited. I flitted about my bedroom last night trying on outfits and realized that the art of primping for other women is so fun and it is like riding a bicycle. I am also quite astonished at how quickly things change in the span of one calendar year. I can remember be hunched over my old desktop last summer and reading all about the Chicago conference and thinking that it looked fun. I think I thought it was simply a networking conference about writing. I was so blog unversed at that time. I clearly thought that Blogher would have been much like any conference I would have attended for work. I would have extended arms, padded business card portfolio, wasted time, and had some fun yes, but I had no idea that going to Blogher would mean more.

I am a major extrovert and have no problem mixing and chatting and working a crowd. Rarely a year goes by without me dancing on a bar. I was very good in the business world as I made connections very well. I made connection after connection, but might not really have connected. I have often been resistant to change, saying that I have always had too many friends and had little time or energy for new ones. I held people at arms length and I hate it. I would work the work and then close the door right before someone would probably offer me some magical gift. It is called being stubborn and I learned it somewhere.

Doobleh-vay has given me a gift, it has made me reach beyond my easy breezy comfortable surface connection level and really care and learn about others in a new way. I had no idea that in a measly year I would form real relationships and connect in ways that would help me so much in my personal quest as writer. I had no idea I would come to care about people so much who lived inside my computer. I have made friendships and connections that have offered me wisdom & advice, money making gigs, the courage to write my novel, and the balls to send queries off that have landed me freelance writing jobs. I have been so moved by other people and blogs that I have sat here and sobbed and had my heart broken in ten thousand pieces. I have been enlightened and I have swooned and I have had my creative soul charged until fire flew from my fingertips.

I have discovered so very much about myself by dipping my toe in this community. I have also come to think about this conference. I may be way off, but I sense a real bonding experience. I think if I were to go back and look over those photographs on all the blogs in 2007 I would see the truth in the eyes that stare back. They were throwing their heads back and laughing, they were huddled together in small groups smiling, they were living loud right off the screen...They knew. And this year I know and it makes all the difference.

You are the jester of this courtyard/With a smile like a girl's

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Field and fountain, moor and mountain

I know it is July and any talk of Christmas is madness, but I must start now for my Handmade Holidays if I want to have any sense of bliss and joy during the real season. I like to make gifts for folks I love and last year we made a promise to start early so we would not be insane in December.

I think the holiday time is really for hanging out and enjoying each other. I used to love the rush and hustle bustle of finding perfect gifts, but as I get older I like to shop all year and buy things that speak to me for certain folks and make things that mean something.

This year I want to make some funky jigsawed key holders I saw in a cool Japanese book from the library and I found some old mirrors and doors from salvage that I want to pretty up. I also wanna make my own DIY version of these for folks and perhaps some lovely freezer paper stencil t-shirts. Kiddos are going to get wood toys from the shop and some new cool items are in the works. I also wanna keep making art smocks bc I think they are great gifts when paired with art supplies. I have to reign my enthusiasm in and choose three or four projects or I will go wonky and nuts.
Does anyone else start early on handmade projects?
One more thing...Are you going to blogher?
Email me yr cell number if ya wanna meet up and have a drink!
amytsharp(at) gmail (dot) com
and a partridge in a pear tree

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