A Job to be Envied

           Although I am not "gainfully employed" at the present moment, I do have a job. Well, actually, I have several: I am a full-time wife, mom/Grandmum, home maker, business mentor, driving instructor, unlicensed plumber (with 4 fixed toilets & a sink faucet replacement to my credit), rookie sailor, autism expert, public speaker, lifelong learner, scanner, home-school supervisor on break,  mediocre cook (but decent yogurt-maker), writer, mixed media/ upcycling artist, kayak queen, sporadic runner, cyclist, Irish dancer, athlete, standardized patient & clinical skills instructor, actress, props mistress, chauffeur, bicycle repairman, photographer, carpenter, and poet; the list implies I don't do any of the above well.  This is not intended to be an apology.

          I don't do a good job keeping the house neat or clean.  I try. Really. But I live with seven people, and an eighth who spends a great deal of time here--except for sleeping. And I've never been neat. Ask any of my siblings or former roommates. I am organizationally challenged. But that's not the topic of this entry.

          My employment status is rather uncategorizable. (Sorry, Spellcheck.)  I recognize this period of my life as valuable, although the IRS may rank 2013 as one of my lowest income years. I have survived 19 years of diapering babies and toddlers, and 7 years as caregiver to an elderly parent. Perhaps this is my only chance to catch my breath and take stock of where I've been and where I am meant to be.
      
       The following poem describes my kayak trip this week--when I finally got to see a bald eagle while on the water after years of searching them out. It is justification for my role as unpaid poet & lover of nature.
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Cicadas roar
Drowning out the din
Of vehicles rushing
Over the highway bridges
Mourning the demise 
Of the weekend gone by.

Birds on tiny islands chant
Prayers to dawn they've yet to see
From their western vantage point
Where shadows of night linger
Oblivious to the fact
That Monday is here.

Egrets, white as the sparse clouds
Swallow sunlight and emit it 
From their pure feathers
Their graceful movement celebrates
The epitome of their beauty.

Slow river carries us
Above its shallow basin
Green weeds dance like hula dancer skirts
Tickling our boats as we glide over them
Warm water drips off our paddles
Onto our arms
Splashing its way back in.

Our trio of paddlers
Immensely grateful
That we travel here beneath the Rat Race
Appearing subdued and serene
Masking our exuberance
For our meanderings
On this utterly perfect summer day.

We feel in our bones
How vital it is
For us to connect to nature's beauty
Instead of losing our souls
In pursuit of passing material gain
In some God-forsaken cubicle.

We take our coffee break
Drinking from a steaming thermos
Blue kayaks nestled in a muddy bank
Of an island rookery
We savor the sweetness of blueberry scones
Watching the everyday lives
Of egrets, herons, and cormorants
And discussing politics
Out of earshot of supervisors
Not envying those of our species
Showering for work at home.

 As we paddle along 
The shady groves between the islands
Soothed by the breeze 
On our suntanned skin
We caught sight
Of a lone bald eagle
Wingspan as wide as our boats
Soaring to a perch above us
Studying our fleet from his vantage point.

We paused in awe to admire him
In his regal majesty 
Marveling at our fortune
For finally finding him
The illusive symbol
Of our nation
After years of hoping
To catch just a glimpse of one of his breed
On our river sojourns.

I brush aside my twinge of guilt
For indulging in
What some might regard
As truancy from my domestic duties
And thank God for my youthful sense of adventure
And my current state of mid-life physical fitness
While many of my age-peers
Show signs of decline
Trapped inside their vehicles
 On their way to Friday's paycheck.

Art Ventures

       SuzyOzone Art Studio is not open for guests...not yet, at least.  But for the curious among my friends, I'm willing to give a peek. As a mixed-media/up-cycle artist, my collection of supplies takes up more space than it merits.  Last week, I took a trip to the Habitat Re-Store & Creative Re-Use shops in Lancaster and came home with an abundance of treasures. I should put it in my will that if I pass away before using up all my creative resources, I bequeath the remainder back to those two wonderful businesses. I'm hoping my family won't turn me over the the reality TV show about hoarders in the meantime.

    Some of my more organized friends who have succeeded at de-junking, Feng shui, and removing all clutter a la St. Francis of Assisi, would have to sit me down to a serious lecture. That's why I keep earplugs on hand. Of course, they are right, and change is necessary--but the one principle they suggest is not bringing anything into the house without an immediate use or a place to live. And put your toys away when you are done playing...don't they know I'm NEVER done??!!

    Anyway, I feel I must give evidence that I am trying. I re-purposed an old box spring into an upright wall storage unit for some of my art supplies. I stripped it down to the wooden frame, stapled in 18 cardboard envelope boxes (salvaged from my brief stint working at an insurance agency), and decorated it. I do more art if I can see where I put my things.  Using hot glue, I connected wood chess pieces up and down the front sides of the frame--you can see my assortment of scissors displayed on them:

It may be hard to see in the photo, but a set of vintage building blocks spells out the name of the studio down the center post. The two middle-left shelves have white popsicle molds holding paint markers.
 
In order to prove there was a good reason to save empty prescription bottles--I connected a bunch of them onto a backboard, covered them with red satin ribbon and fabric trim, and sorted out my collection of Sharpie markers.

There are always multiple projects in process simultaneously. I steal a few minutes here and there to work on them. Several have been completed recently: a miniature blanket box and a sculpture of  house cleaning fairies..

                    This is on the back of the fairies sculpture: "I wish the cleaning fairies believed in us like we believe in them."

    Oil on canvas (yes, I occasionally work in traditional media) of a seascape. You have to squint really hard to see me in my sailboat near the horizon.

 I didn't do the drawing: it's from a gift bag used for European postcards (I think). Looks like Old Amsterdam, and it may have come from the gift shop of the Van Gogh Museum. It is colored with brush markers and some color has bled through from a food-dye stained paper towel decoupaged underneath it.

   Mixed media from an altered book titled: My Life as a Trapeze Artist. I started many years ago. The photo of the wooden puppets was taken in Austria in a toyshop window.

 

  More mixed media from the same book; the images are of Kabuki dancers from an old book about Japan.  

 Acrylic paint and iridescent medium on leather.  This is a work in progress. Waiting for ideas to strike.
That's all for now. Bug me and I'll post more.