RIP Daydream Believer

So very sad...another musical star has left us...this time, one of my personal favorites.  This morning Davey Jones of The Monkees died of a heart attack and this gal is grieving the loss of her first childhood artistic inspiration.  He was by far my favorite - adorable to me even at 10 in 1987 - and those rockin 60s mod duds would send me to vintage shops as a teen, college and young adult in search of the allusive double breasted tunic and A line dresses and go go boots.  That tunic still remains just out of reach.

Last year about this time several radio stations had played a few Monkees tunes that sent me on a Monkees binge for a month or so and I had posted this then.  I have been a fan for nearly 25 years - which is a blip compared to those who really grew up with the guys.  But today the band as we knew it is down one and things won't ever be the same.

I wrote this on Piccadilly's page earlier.  It sums up my feelings.

Very sad to hear the news of Davy Jones' passing. Little did he and his band mates know that 20 years after their formation this gal, at age 10, would find them on Nick and become a tad obsessed...With Davy, with their awesome 60s mod clothes, with their cult classic show, with the well known and under the radar tunes (Shades of Gray)...and carry the inspiration forth in my music taste (my first concert!), my indie style (60s vintage dresses!), and ultimately let it guide me in choosing a fun (London) mod inspired name for this biz. The Monkees were always under appreciated and unfairly compared to other 60s greats but they were awesome for what they were initially intended for...and when they broke free, their creative collective genius is seen on an album like Headquarters. Davy was my first childhood artistic inspiration. I'm grieving that artistic loss. RIP Davy.

Here are a few favorite pics.

 

 

And a great tune | video

 

I was just a little obsessed when I saw this technique. I don't even need the wood. Just the organic process transferred to paper is enough to make me giddy.

Source: wearedesignbureau.com via Chrissie on Pinterest

You'll be fine

Just found myself saying to my cousin the very words I heard the other day..."You know more about yourself at 24/25 than I did...you will be fine...try not to be so hard on yourself."  Because I knew how I was then.  I saw myself in her, in that moment.  Young and overwhelmed. 

So for all the "you're young" comments I hear, they must have heard them too...for all the stress I put on myself and unloaded, they were there too.  More than there...they see themselves in me. 

I've taken some of those comments as condescending, a little mockery, like they don't take me seriously, like I'm always a baby despite all my efforts to look otherwise.  But maybe that's not really it...

And maybe the only words to say are those because really, I wouldn't have been able to handle, to live, anything more than that at 24/25.  Or now at 34.  Even now, I think of what I might have told myself then and if it could have mattered.  All I come up with is exactly what was said to me.  I would not have believed or listened to anything else because I had to figure stuff out on my own.

It's an amazing moment realizing someone sees him/herself in you.

"You will be fine."

Sometimes I get kicked right back to a place - an emotional place - that I thought I'd squashed and moved passed.  Sometimes it's that same person who does it.  Sometimes the 180 I do leaves my head spinning.

Today is the first day of Lent and my promise to myself is to do my best to get out of my own head and past old demons and insecurities that have reared their ugly heads in recent weeks due to the business' struggles and my innate desires to prove myself - to myself and others. 

Maybe in 40 days I won't feel so unsupported...so hard on myself...so embarrassed...so young.  Not letting certain things affect me takes major effort especially when I work so hard to change past images and perceptions and I want so badly to be seen as an ace.  I don't know how I'm getting to that mental place.

Sleeping Bags for Man's Animals

The boy would love these for his animals.

Source: hazelnutgirl.blogspot.com via Merche on Pinterest

I had a moment this afternoon - filled with so much emotion, totally overwhelmed at how awesome my pow wow with my mentor went - when I remembered how I had wanted this dialogue at PAE months back and how angry I was that he had just reacted and then blew me off and I retaliated with the silent contract of "I'm not talking to you. EVER. Until you grovel." And that lasted a little while until he did sorta grovel in his own way and then I learned a little more about his reactions.  And today I learned more, soaked in the knowledge, and processed so much.  And in my moment of gratitude, I said to myself, "There is a reason this didn't happen in September.  You wouldn't have been able to understand...to live the answers.  You had to live the questions."  I was paraphrasing Rainer Maria Rilke's words from Letters to a Young Poet.
 

I'm still overwhelmed hours later. I can't explain it.  It was partly what was discussed and offered but more than that was how it felt.  It was somehow a blend of peer to peer discussion, a conversation with the older/wiser friend who understands, and a sprinkling of support, idealism and realism, and faith in you that only a parent might offer.

Creativity

Source: neutralnotes.tumblr.com via Lyle on Pinterest

I LOVE this pic of a children's room, naturally from Ikea. I used to hate Ikea. Hate it. I still have mixed feelings about a lot of the product (some way too modern for my taste, not liking the cheapness of it all) but for a kid's room, it's perfect. They go through phases and stuff so quickly and there's no sadness when it's time to move on (or it broke) because I haven't spent a ton on it...and there's always something just as cute and imaginative around the corner. I suspect that is why I love Ikea for children...it embraces the abstractness of art and the wonder and imagination of being a kid and captures it so well in the products. It goes against the whole controlling/matchy-matchy of PB, Babies R Us and the like.

Source: digsdigs.com via Linda on Pinterest

I'd Wear These

If I saw these, I might have to buy them and rock them.

Source: mybluecanoe.tumblr.com via Chrissie on Pinterest

Falling Apart

I must be PMSed because I don't cry this much in one day.  Earlier I sobbed over my business financials and could barely muster the energy afterwards to make a few call backs - and good call backs nonetheless - the ones to people who are actually interested and wanting to talk to me about an artist. 

I just sobbed over a petition for a small dog that lost it's life overseas due to horrific abuse. My own dog has been driving me crazy this past week is getting a big hug now.

I put the boy to bed tonight and and like when he was an infant and I was a hormonal wreck, I pray for him, pray that he's always protected, safe, happy, and healthy...but I worry.  I'm a parent so I worry.  I worry - what if he's bullied?  What if he struggles in school?  In a sport?  What if he's gay?  What if he's unhappy?  What if he hates his parents someday and rebels and turns to drugs?  What if he's one of those kids that writes what they feel on pieces of paper and creates a video on YouTube?  Christ. 

Not all the above are scary per say but just worrisome because of the society in which we live and the pressures on kids (and even parents) today and the lack of control I have over others' behaviors.  I mean, I have little to no control over most of the above.  God has a plan.  The end.  I can only trust that me being his mother clearly meant I was part of that plan and I am equipped with his grace to handle things.  

His school is teaching his class all about safety and I spent time this morning talking with him about strangers and what to do and say.  I remembered the time at the kids museum when we walked out of the bathroom and he was engulfed by the crowd and I couldn't find him.  For a good 30 seconds I covered a 10 yard radius shouting his name and surveying the crowd with no avail.  Then I stopped and stayed in place for another 30 seconds and did the same thing, remembering that stay put rule...maybe he would see me first?  Then I called in reinforcements.  And within 1 minute the entire museum was on alert and a minute later a staff member found him.

And how I sobbed over him for a week after scared of what if...and how I couldn't sleep that week since we were slated to go to NYC and I was panicked of losing him (and still am - on the subway or wherever) and I carried his 30lb two and half year old self ALL over Manhattan that day out of fear.  My arm was in pain for days after but I was completely freaked out at the thought of him walking or even being in an umbrella stroller.  Even now, I take extra caution when I know we are headed to high traffic places.

Worry.  PMS and a full moon have escalated my worry over all situations right now. 

Some IPAY Inspiration

I was MIA most of January between both APAP and IPAY - the first being the industry's huge national conference and the second being my niche conference for youth programming.

IPAY this year was in gorgeous sunny hip Austin, TX.  Seriously, who knew Austin was TX?  It's like a red headed stepchild (or maybe blue headed?) in the otherwise red state.  So fun, so hip, full of young and old alike but you totally picked up an artsy vibe immediately.  The city's slogan is "Keep Austin Weird."  Well, that was enough for me!

The weather for January was in the 50s (lows) through the mid-70s (highs) and I walked for miles schlepping from the hotel to the theaters to the funky shops, to just exploring the walking trails along the river.  I wish I could have seen and explored more but I'm happy to have seen the little bit of U of TX at Austin, the see south Congress St and take it in like a local, and dine out at authentic BBQ and Tex Mex joints.

Below are some pics I took from the first "showcase I saw" -- more like an exhibition.  Architects of Air out of the UK create these amazing sculptures that you walk through. This was my favorite, probably because I couldn't stop photographing every square foot of it.  It was an abstract artist's dream.

Toxic

I know I'm a pretty rational and compassionate person.  I also know when enough is enough...when all compassion and tolerance has to end because someone I've tolerated in tiny dosages (because I needed to) is actually just a miserable insecure toxic bitch.

I've known for years this girl and I were night and day.  So much so that it was always a chore to entertain her, hang out with her, and just have her within my circle of acquaintances.  But I did it because it was like family..and because every once in a while, I can just deal.  I can make the small talk, I can be cordial.  Because it's what we do as adults - we suck it up sometimes.

I can.

And then one day, despite whatever conditions this chick has in her life, whatever someone wants to say - again - to excuse her horrid, fake, bitchy snobby behavior - I say no.  I'm done.  At 34, I am done.  I don't need to pretend anymore, to be civil, to do anything ever again.  Because girls like this don't deserve someone like me.  Girls like this don't know how to handle someone like me...they only know how to handle their kind, the kind that enable and percolate their own insecurities. 

Cutting the toxic yet again.