Blessed Easter

photo credit Pamela Smith

Sometimes it is the smallest gesture that makes the biggest impression, especially from a child.  As I was leaving Sunday school on Palm Sunday, an 11-year-old boy ran up to me out of breath with a handful of flower buds.  I recognized him as one of the children who had joined our class that day because his teacher was not there.  He said, "These were for my regular teacher, but you can have them." Amused by his little-boy tact, I thanked him, taking them gladly.  He still had the tissue paper egg in his hand that he had made in my class.

I was a little concerned when the six extra students joined us last minute, hoping I had enough paper mache eggs for everyone.  I share art with my Sunday school students almost every week. One reason is that creativity and spirituality are inseparable. I sometimes offer up an example piece for the children to emulate, but more often I just offer thematic supplies and maybe a few suggestions.  I am always impressed and awed by what they create.  Another reason I bring them art is because there is not too much in the way of art class offered in public schools these days, particularly not in junior high. I think they really appreciate being able to play in a way that they haven't been able to since they were little.  I mean, what junior high curriculum plays with tissue and white glue? Or, maybe one week I might show them a new tool they have never seen before, like a crimper or an eyelet punch. Mainly, I love to provide something to keep their secondary attention occupied while I talk to them about their faith.  It seems a win-win.

Speaking of small gestures that mean a lot, there is this one little girl in fifth grade whom I see now and again on Sunday. I don't even remember how we met, but we get along famously and I can't wait until she is in my class.  I went by myself to the Easter Vigil to volunteer at the reception, and she was there with her family.  She saw me sitting alone at the end of her pew, and she had the two women between us get my attention.  She waved and patted the pew next to her.  My heart melted as I moved to sit with her and her mother and little brother.  She's so small that she couldn't see the baptism while everyone was standing, so I had her stand on the pew next to me.  And she told me I sing pretty.  What a sweet soul.

Those flower buds turned out to be yellow daffodils.  They bloomed that day, and stayed strong until Easter.  They have given me such joy all week on this holiest of weeks, that I think I'll write a thank you note to that little boy for his inadvertent gift.

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Of Mockingbirds and Flight

I recently purchased several blueberry plants, not a common sight in southern California.  Having no experience with these plants, I was amused when the flowers bloomed to look just like little blueberries.  While I was outside taking photographs of them, I heard a mockingbird once again, making the warblings of fifteen different birds. It's not that the diversity of sounds coming out of this bird is so very remarkable, but that he can make it sound like three or four birds at the same time. I began to wonder if this was the same mockingbird that I posted about on Facebook on the first day of spring. I have to believe that it was, because he was in the same spot in the same tree.

Why do I have a hard time believing that it is the same birds in my yard day after day? There is a hummingbird with a shiny red chin who squeaks mercilessly on a bush outside my back door day after day.  It must be the same bird, on a mission to slowly make me crazy with his squeaky gate noises. I suppose I have a problem believing they hang out because if I were a bird, I would use my wings and fly all over the place and discover the world. Perhaps these birds have nests and families keeping them here, like I do. Still, I am humbled that they have a choice, and choose to sing in my yard.

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Felting Dreams on Etsy

Swinging Tiny Mouse on Etsy

I can't get this sweet little guy out of my mind.  I ran across him on Etsy in a shop called Felting Dreams, and just laughed and laughed.  The artist is Johana out of Santiago, Chile.  I only heard of felted creations when I first saw them on Etsy, and did not know how it was done until I looked it up on YouTube.  Wow!  It truly is a whole new art form.  The woman in the tutorial said that it was invented in the 80's by a few artists who were observing a large machine felting some fabric.  I have never really been interested in sewing or textiles, but I may just try my hand at this art form.  It is literally sculpting using wool.  In the mean time, I just may purchase this little guy because I can't get him out of my mind.

Update: I couldn't help myself! He is on his way from Chile.  I hope he speaks English. 

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Of Art Cards and Joy

Click to see this card in my shop - SOLD

I'm so excited.  I just made my first ACEO, and purchased my first ACEO.  What is an ACEO, you ask?  Well it's essentially baseball trading cards for artsy geeks.  The acronym stands for Art Cards, Editions and Originals. These cards are miniature collectible works of art. The only rule is that the cards must measure 2.5 x 3.5 inches. What I love about the whole concept is that these cards are a great way to collect affordable art and connect with other artists. (The term ATC refers to Artist Trading Cards, which is essentially the same thing, only they are traded by artists. ACEO's are usually bought and sold.)

Purchased from JoyHanna

So while I have a lot to learn about making ACEO's, I am enjoying participating in this new adventure.  Here is a link to my first ACEO purchased on Etsy.  It is beautiful, but more than that, I love the artist's work in her shop.  And she is Canadian too, which is cool.  It's like an international adventure without leaving home.



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Sand in Hand

Click picture to enlarge

I went to the beach this morning on my way back from carpooling to take pictures of some art. I was sitting in the sand, and a gentleman who seemed to have been meditating earlier, came over and said I should take pictures of the clouds. I had been so engrossed in looking down that I hadn't noticed the gorgeous cloud patterns; I only noticed that the diffused lighting was perfect.

He inquired about how I made my cards, and how I came up with the Chalk & Slate name.  He called my worked "intricate" and looked at each piece. He assumed that I photocopied the artwork and put the photos on cards. That got me thinking a little bit the rest of the day, because it is tempting. But then I decided that it would defeat the purpose of my whole artistic premise. I am an artist, not a card maker.

After he continued on, I went to close up my camera. I heard the familiar and teeth-grinding sound of sand in the flip-out screen hinge. You know, it never fails. It doesn't matter what you do; if you go to the beach, you become intimate with sand. It's a love-hate for me (not unlike the hate-hate I have for glitter). When I returned to my car and brushed off what I could, I waxed poetic about the ridiculousness of the sandy encounter.

There is none more insidious than the sand of the beach.
Not the roots of the mint, not the suck of the leech.  

To venture the beach is to commune with the sand, 
No matter the safeguard you might have all planned. 

The sand is the Loki of ancient Greek fame, 
Bringing mischief no towel ever shall tame. 

The lens only wishes to capture the beauty, 
But the sand finds the lens ruination its duty. 


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