The month of May

  1. 01. The month of May

    open

    you still there? me too.

     

    I gave a toast a week and a couple of days ago

    to two of my best friends.

    they happen to be my brother & his fiancé.

    It was about marriage. Which some folks might think is pretty rich. Seeing as how I’ve failed miserably.

    Sometimes friends – or anyone left reading-

    You have to fail just right.

    And by just right I mean – without putting on your failures like a cloak of miserable forlorn bitterness. Don’t get me wrong- My God, pouting and carrying on to the point where your best pals hang up the damn phone is a part of the nasty ugly process. Just be honest about it. The hardest part I think is being honest with yourself.

    The secret of marriage is that we all fail miserably. And the crappiest part is that we don’t honestly share that with every one sauntering into the great union. We should. We should treat marriage more like we treat parenting. Knowing that some days – you are going to fail & yell, and be the biggest ass. But that’s ok, it’s even expected, -because we’re human. And we get to try to do better tomorrow. Sometimes tomorrow doesn’t happen for 3 years.

    I gave my brother & my Marpants my best advise, which was given to me by a lady who’d been married quite a while and still liked her man:

    “Don’t hurt their core.”

    That’s how you get home. That’s how you keep on. That’s how you stay true. It’s easier to take out our pain, our shortcomings, and insecurities on the one who’s there. Try like hell not to. Try like hell to realize that the greatest of these things we’ve got going is love.

    Not the easy love. The long one. The one at the end of one of your lost and winding road that says:

    I’m so glad you came home. I forgive you. I love you. I believe in you. And I see you for who you are and hold you to be your best.

    because sometimes we fail exactly how we need to. exactly how we’re supposed to – to come home better & to come home right.

    petals

     

    door

     

    pail

     

  2. 02. to day

    I’ve been avoiding you.

    Things changed so slow & strangely like an alice-down-a-wonderland-hole that I’ve become secretive.

    I’ve never been secretive before so I didn’t know how to say:

    I’ve changed the mode & goal of UA. Maybe you’ve noticed, but probably you haven’t. If you’re anything like me, you’ve got life stuffs to deal with:  Sunday family suppers to go to, grandparents to visit, jobs, and siblings getting married, mending to do on the old house, and probably budgets to fret.

    Well -I’ve stopped trying to live and breath apparel design, or make it my main focus which was a 24/7 job. Anyone that is in the starving artist business knows its tale…
    Letting that go feels like flying, and they don’t tell you that when they’re telling you to shoot for your dreams. They don’t say: It’s heavy, that pack of dream dust. It’s a lot to haul up the mountain of your climb.

    So here I am – not sewing daily. Not fretting. Not wondering why I’m not “making it” right this second. And damn it feels fine. I’m not thinking of how I’m going to make it in the future either – and that feels good too.

    I have a lot to tell you – so I hope I won’t. It’ll be boring. It’ll be melodramatic, it’ll be sentimental and achey and full of metaphor.

    So instead I’ll say:

    These last 5 years have been a real bitch.

    I’ll say:

    I’m sorry.

    I’ll say:

    I didn’t know.

    I’ll say:

     

    Truth be told I still don’t know except that sometimes you have to change everything. Twice. Or maybe three times.

    And I’m going to keep sewing & painting. I’ll be around to take a few commissioned pieces. I’ve had a ball working on two fantasy gowns & paintings already this year.

    And I’ll still make a few three-or-so-of-a-kind heirloom pieces when I find myself wearing something into the ground that I think you might enjoy.

    And gardening.

    And laughing.

    And forgiving myself for all the things I didn’t know that I didn’t know.

    Thank you for your patronage.

    Thank you for your kindness.

    Thank you for your unabashed spirit and courage.

    I’ll see you around.

    Until the next time – a little bit of my lately-

    My favorite painting commission to date:

    maryanne

     

    detail

    A December hike with my favorite gal:

    december1st

    A Yuletide $1000 crane…. that’s a story for another glory…

    yule

    & me:

    painting

     

    xo

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