Choices Make Us

Every choice along the path of our life leads us down our path. Sometimes I stop and think about the choices I have made and where they have led me. Now, don’t get me wrong-my life is pretty good. I’m just thinking about my younger days and the choices that I made in High School and College. Oh it may have a thing or two to do with my son being a freshman in college and going through some life choices.

“Mom, should I get the sedan or the V6?”

Flashback to my first car choice: baby blue Karmann Ghia convertible vs a brown Toyota corolla 4-door. So which one do you think the practical younger me choose. Yep, brown corolla. I choose and my choice continued me on my practical responsible track. I’m not saying that the convertible would have changed me into a summer loving beach bunny, but I think I might have had a little more fun driving my friends around. Who knows? Maybe I would have been a slightly different me. Maybe I would have found my artist self sooner. Maybe I would have found the joy in life sooner. Maybe I would have turned out exactly the same.

“Son, get the V6. That way you will never look back and say, ‘What if’”

There is a V6 Impala in my drive. Well, on the rare occasions that he is actually at home for a moment or two between his school, work, and adventures. I think there is a lot of fun in the car.

I think this is something that we aspire for our children. That they will learn from our mistakes. May their choices will be different and, hopefully, lead to a better and brighter future. I guess my children are at the age of choices. My youngest didn’t tell us about the Chinese trip from his school. I found out at Open House Night. I signed him right up. We will struggle with the finances. We will make it happen. I choose to not go to Europe with my high school class for the same reasons my youngest gave.

“Mom, it’s too expensive. We don’t have the money.”

What a sweetie! But again here was something that I regretted. I have yet to travel to anywhere that isn’t attached. (I have been to Canada and most of the continental US) How often to you get a chance to travel to China! This will happen. My husband and I were able to make it so. He leaves next week for a major long plane flight and the trip of a life time!

I wonder how these choices will change the paths that my sons are on. I’m sure the experiences will open opportunities and doors. The journey of life is never ending. My own journey still has many opportunities and choices yet to come. I will get my travel sometime soon. I have a plan and my goals are written in words and pictures. I have the Europe trip on my wall with my visual journal. My husband and I are thinking of taking a cruise. We will have adventures and joy. Life is amazing.

It’s all good. Carpe Diem!

Sidetracked

So, it’s been a month. I know it was December and the holidays, but that is just an excuse. I found all kinds of things to sidetrack me from my writing progress. First off, in decorating for the holidays, I found some old writing hidden away. Some of it was actually pretty good and worth working on so…I stopped working on the novel. I was having trouble battling that critic. Last I posted the novel was: “I’ll keep you posted. Word count: 20,141.” Now, the word count it 20,632. Yep, still hitting the wall on that one.

But the things I found were so amazing. I can actually turn a phrase now and again. Then my critic says-no you suck. Okay, what did I find all tucked away in a binder. I found several books in progress: A Life Planner Journal, Personal Essays on Being an Imperfect Mother, a picture book: Bubbles Everywhere and my articles on birthing. What a gold mine-right! Shut up critic. It’s not your turn.

I started December by working on my found book: Life Planner Journal. I know and it was pretty complete. I finished retyping it into word. Now it just needs an edit, the sample documents, and some images uploaded. As I type this, I feel that inner critic. Who are you to help people with a planner? Why should anyone listen to you? You don’t have it all organized. You don’t stick to your plan. You missed New Year’s deadline you set yourself so you FAILED. I know, but isn’t that the point. It’s all a process. I didn’t fail. I worked and let the critic slow me down. So I switched gears. I’ll come back to this one soon.

Right now, New Year’s Day, I’m working on putting that huge document on Imperfect Mothering into the computer where I can figure out what goes where and where to begin the edit. It’s a jumble of topics. It is in desperate need of an edit, but all in good time. The first thing is to get an electronic copy. (I know I have a hard copy. These documents are from 2000 or so. Only the universe knows what computer they were originally typed or where a backup might be or on what media-disc anyone?) So away I type. Some of it is good. Most of it is crap, but an edit and more personal story will fix that right up. Oh and see me procrastinate. I’m writing to you, dear reader. The printed copy sits to my left starting at me with the date 6/17/2002 as the print out date. I think there are a few separate books in it. I just have to decide on categories. Or maybe I have to sort for chapters. I don’t know yet and that is okay. I don’t have to know right now. I’m rediscovering the life I had with wee boys.

The picture book is a story. I actually sent it out once upon a time to agents and publishers. Yes, I was brave- once upon a time. The thing that I found amazing was that one publisher actually sent it back. They paid for that. There was a personal note-not a form letter. Why did I stop? Oh right, that inner critic. Well, I can start back up where I left off. I have all the photos. I have the story. I can make a new book and send it out or just publish it myself on kindle. So there.

I think I’ll stop procrastinating and get back to it.

Happy New Year! May it be a productive and happy one. 2015 will be a great year.

Artist Statement: My Journey

 

My art

 

 

So much to say and where to start. I guess I’ll start at the beginning. It all began with my grandmother. She taught me needle art. Art was everywhere, but just a part of life. I drew in charcoal. My father painted, my mother drew in pencils.

 

I loved needlework. I embroidered and cross stitched. I made Christmas presents for everyone. I made my own cross stitch patterns. I’m sure that everyone was tired of my craftiness. My sister has one of the few remaining originals. I made it for her wedding. It has a Pegasus on it since she always loved those winged horses. What I loved most about needle work, was the pattern and design forming out of nothing off the white canvas. You start with something white and slowly the design emerges from the void.

 

Tole painting was the start of my major focus on art and crafts. I loved to paint on wood. I actually owned a band saw and cut my own pieces. You can never find exactly what you want at a craft store.

 

When I moved to southern California, I went to a clay day at my cousin’s studio. I had no idea what that was; I went to connect with my family in a strange new place. Who knew that it would be the discovery of my artist self? I found my medium. I loved it! I took classes. I made my own designs. I loved to see the figures come out of the clay. Once again, I have found a medium that allows me to create something from out of the void. This time I create in three dimensions.

 

I’m pulled to the human form. My soul is called to help others. I helped form a volunteer program of doulas for the Sutter Davis Hospital. It was important to me that low income women could receive assistance during the birth of their children. Everyone deserves to have a helping hand to gain confidence in their abilities.

 

Times change and stay the same. I still connect with the power of birth and mysteries of a woman’s soul. As an artist, I sculpt this power into clay. The human form of a woman speaks to me. A woman has the most powerful muscle found in the human body yet it is surrounded by softness and curves. The power is hidden from sight. The strength must be felt underneath the softness.

 

I love the flow of muscle and skin. Clay is a fluid medium that flows and solidifies into strength.

Who am I?

I am Buckaroo Banzai- I will change who I am and what I do as often as I like. Or maybe I'll just do it all at the same time.

I have been a research scientist in women's health for the University of California, Davis. I am the mother of three sons. I am an artist, writer, tutor, and a doula.

The birth of my sons led me to a career helping other women birth their children. I provided emotional support, child birth education, and my physical presence and support. I would start at the woman's home in early labor and help her transition to the hospital or birth center. My work with women who could afford my services led me to become the coordinator of the volunteer doula program at Sutter Davis Hospital. Everyone should have access to educated support during the mystery of the birth process.

Times change and yet stay the same. I feel my age- in that I don't enjoy 24 hours of birthing support any more, but I still connect with the power of birth and the mysteries of a woman's soul. As an artist, I sculpt this power into clay. The human form of woman speaks to me. The power and strength surrounded by softness and curves. Amazing how this power is hidden from sight. It must be felt.