Dear Friends,
As glorious as this time of year can be for some, for others it can be quite sad and horrific. Dreaming of peace on earth is juvenile. Hoping that mankind can protect every child is naive. But asking each one of us to help someone in need – adult or child – in some small way is possible.
Thank you. Dream like a child this night…
And never stop believing in dreams or hope…
Earth’s Angel created this afternoon.
Dear Friends,
The giant husband is in the ‘green’ business. He knows quite a bit about plants, trees and Latin roots. Every year he works six days a week then for six glorious weeks, beginning Christmas Eve, the nursery closes. He gets a well-earned rest though Rocky the Shepherd, and Mojo the Dachshund usually fail to read the memo.
A few months ago I wrote a story about the giant husband. If you’d oblige, I’d like to share an edited version of it again. Because as the saying goes, “Behind every married woman who blogs, is a giant husband.” –
Back in 2000, after giving birth to the big son son I had some complications. For five days and nights after the big son came into the world, I was hooked up to tubes, monitors and I believe there were a few pots and pans (this is where I lost my dinner preparation zest). I liken the experience to an exotic vacation minus fresh air, warm sun, bright sea or anything else pleasant. Each night when the hospital room grew dark (despite bells, whistles, alarms and flashing lights) there was the giant husband, ‘sleeping’ at the foot of my hospital bed atop two small chairs smooshed together.
Though the giant husband makes things around him appear smaller, he makes anyone around him feel grand. My Christmas gift every year is having him home for the holidays.
Thank you. May you dream of someone who makes you feel grand…
Giant Husband, Delicate Daughter, Tiny Tree rendered today while listening to, It’s a Wonderful Life
A note: The other day I had the amazing fortune of talking to a selfless father and fellow blogger, Simon Tocclo of Liberian Me. The reason I bring this up here is when there are complications during birth, mothers (in the poorer areas of Africa) don’t survive. So when you dream, please dream of hope for those in need around the world…thank you.
Dear Friends,
I didn’t save my childhood Christmas lists, but for some reason my 1971 Santa letter has followed me ’round from house to house. Below is the Santa letter I penned at eight-years-old. I remember my mom giving us these adorable cards to write our Christmas wish lists on.
( My penmanship was neatest at 8 years of age) –
I’ve read the list above many times since 1971 always thinking what if…
My 2014 Santa list (written by my eight-year-old, inner-child) would look like this-
My 1971 Santa list, with a few 2014 inner-child edits-
Thank you. May you dream of peace on earth and in every heart…
2014 Inner-child Christmas Card rendered today after shopping and before giving art lessons.
My 1971 Santa list resulted in a pink stuffed dog named Charlie, a small zither and no rabbit. Our German Shepherd would have eaten it. 🙂
I still smiled wide every Christmas…my parents made Christmas wonderful whether we got our list or not.
16 years ago I learned about a 134-year-old tradition. The giant husband and I were dining with friends over the Christmas holiday when someone produced a small satchel. From the pouch fell a little hard candy, pink pig. It was explained that the candy pig was broken into sharable pieces for good luck in the new year. She told me breaking a Peppermint Pig was a longtime tradition. I was quite amazed that a Christmas enthusiast such as myself had never heard of a Peppermint Pig. The following year I learned about the Christmas Pickle…
Here’s a link to The New York Times article, if you’d like to read about the Peppermint Pig’s sweet history.
Now there’s another reason for this post. A few weeks back I promised a wonderful friend I’d show her how to draw a pig. So Deb, as promised, please see sketch below. It’s all about seeing the basic shapes and once you can see the shapes you will become a pig master 🙂
Dear Friends,
A sleeping baby is magical. His flawless face bestows peace. His satin skin softens hearts. His bowed lips know only love…
Thank you. May you sleep in the arms of sweet peace.
Baby Elf sketched in pencil last night and charcoal detailed today
Dear Friends,
Over the last few days, I’ve seen two excellent conscience-bearing movies. Into the Wild, directed by Sean Penn is based on a true story. It’s a convincing cinematic portrayal of a young college-educated man who forgoes the trappings of society and our manmade shackles. His search for a ‘purer’ existence ultimately brings him to Alaska where he must attempt survival. The other film, The Eleventh Hour, directed by Leonardo DiCaprio lays out mankind’s future if global warming isn’t taken seriously. Both films left me thinking about how I live my life. They left me pondering my children’s futures if we can’t reign in our want, and stop treating nature as a thing to be bartered and sold.
Yesterday my post included a silly Christmas tree. For reference I’d snapped a photo of the delicate daughter crossing her arms. While on a sub break today, I was perusing my photos and stopped at my daughter’s image. I drew her sweet face during lunch. I pray the bright future reflected in her caramel eyes, is the bright future she will have on a beautiful healthy planet…
Thank you. May you dream of pure air and crystal water.
Delicate Daughter sketched today. Little Miss Green Apple below done with Prisma pencils several months ago.
Miss Green Apple
Dear Friends,
“…Faith is believing when commonsense tells you not to…”
Thank you. May you dream of flying on a reindeer…
Reindeer Hug inspired yesterday morning while watching, Miracle on 34th Street. The art turned out a bit differently than originally imagined. I was going to make the elf younger and chubby-cheeked, give her wavy curls and wrap her arms around Rudolph’s muzzle. I decided or rather my pencil did to go a different way. My pencil desired a more bizarre face. It said “let the Christmas hat’s white trim ‘act’ as hair and let Rudolph’s head have a clearer presence.” So pencil and hand skipped down a different candy cane path. Hope this was okay, I was only allowed one vote…
Dear Friends,
When I was a little kid, I used to sneak down to the small créche my mom set up every Christmas. I’d kneel before the nativity scene and pretend I was a humble shepherd. Swaddled in midnight darkness, I’d whisper to Baby Jesus that even if I didn’t get the rabbit and the banjo that I asked for every year, I’d still be kind and good to others.
Today I’m thankful for so much in my life, but maybe I’ve become complacent in my gratitude. Perhaps this year I need to be a humble shepherd. I will kneel and pray that the magic of this holiday season touches those in need of magic…
Sometimes even wizards hope for real magic…
Thank you. May your dreams be fills with the magic of slumber…
Thinking Wizard created yesterday for a good friend. He will be auctioned along with many other items to help raise money for the Washingtonville Wizards Senior Class’s Graduation Celebration.
Dear Friends,
For the last six days, my home was filled with family and friends. My pantry, garage and fridge were packed with food. Twenty-six people shared Thanksgiving at my table(s). Including my immediate family, nineteen people slept under my roof until saturday. It was – as promised – our annual Thanksgivingpalooza. But, the past few days of insanity, loudness and laughter were wrapped up warmly in homemade applesauce, 3 turkeys and a ham.
I sit here now alone in my studio tapping keys to speak. The dishwasher is the only thing chattering. My mom and dad left about an hour ago. The giant husband and delicate daughter are both at work. The big son is at a friend’s house. I’m here with Rocky the Shepherd and Mojo the Dachshund wishing they’d kept up with their ESL lessons. Rocky is a bit sad like me. Mojo is happy because he’s no longer being carried like a strapless handbag.
Every year as much as I wish for peace and quiet by day four of Thanksgivingpalooza, I realize it’s only the quiet that returns. Peace can be loud, insane and crazy wrapped up warmly in homemade applesauce, 3 turkeys and a ham.
Thank you. May you dream of a life filled with friends, family and warm applesauce.
Sad Clown created a month ago, waiting for the right moment to share…
Dear Friends,
Spring, summer, fall and winter pull each other along on their wayward journey. The Seasons ride their own express train. This locomotive’s spinning wheels are unaffected by barometric change. Rainbow boxcars screech as they hustle along the sparking track. Chuckling snowmen have begun jumping off the sidecars, holding balls of ice in their soft red mittens. Winter has arrived in North America.
I wish Season’s express train would ‘snowdown’ once in awhile and let life catch up…
Thank you. Dream beneath warm blankets of joy this night…
Galeen atop Snowman’s Head, rolled out several days ago with warm markers in hand.
anntogether 