My Wandering Eye

There was a time when Darrin didn't understand why I couldn't just be happy, he worried that I could never be completely happy. I was always looking, even stalking others. If I saw a "For Sale" sign in a yard, I would rush home and look it up online. Maybe there were photos of the inside of the house? I would drive out of my way to pass by it again. I would come home and tell him about a beautiful house I spied. His response, "We're not moving." For years, I looked at other houses. I thought I could convince him that the grass was a little greener and a little more square footage would make me a lot happier. I never thought of him being stubborn – he is happy. He needs nothing more. I've never been a material girl. He was confused by my obsession for always wanting more. As the years have passed, I realize leaving a beautiful home in a beautiful neighborhood with great neighbors would not be worth uprooting kids and taking on a bigger mortgage – especially in this economic climate. At this time, we have both completely and totally committed to being here for the long haul. And so we called a contractor. And so we have just begun investing as much extra cash as we can in this humble abode to make it as beautiful as we can. We will enjoy it for at least 30 more years. I have not compromised. I have seen his way and I agree. I am happy.

At this very same time, a house went on the market just a few blocks away. A friend told me there was an Estate Sale and I had to go – just to see the house. No persuasion needed. I love looking at houses. I rushed through dinner. The girls and I walked 3 blocks. It was the most beautiful house I have ever seen! Perhaps a slight exaggeration, but Darrin had to see this house! I told Ellie to take him on Friday while I was at work. I told him to go. They didn't. Saturday morning I took him there myself. I expected him to act unimpressed even if he thought the house was nice. His response was the same as mine. He was immediately dreaming of living there. From the front, the house looks like a nice size ranch, a little more upscale than average. From the back, it looks like a million dollar beach house with a breathtaking panoramic view of nothing but nature. One would never think they were in my little neighborhood. The experience of being in the house transcends suburbia. We worked to convince ourselves and each other simultaneously that we could swing it. And – that it is totally out of the question.

Ironically and coincidentally we have both seen both sides of the "moving/not moving" issue. Just when I have found happiness where we are Darrin has experienced what it is like for me to dream and share in my house fantasies.

Priorities

Since I am over 40 years old and the kids don't keep me running like they used to, I've been packing on a little extra weight lately. Last night I decided at 9:30pm that I would exercise every day from now on! Today at 8:30pm I chose painting over exercise. Since I blog when I paint, I know for a fact that the last time I picked up a brush was March.

Timeless Classic

This past weekend we drove up to Wisconsin to visit brother John and his beautiful family. His new house has the perfect tree for the coolest tree swing. After everyone had a turn, the cousins showed us how they put the sprinkler in front of it so when you swing - you go right through the water. I got good video shots of that. I regret not having tried out the swing myself.

Concrete

When I said we are starting some home improvement projects, I didn't mean we were out buying a gallon of paint. We finally have mustered up the guts and forked out the cash to do the major renovations that I have been dreaming of since we moved in over 11 years ago.

The contractor said it would be no big deal to pour 3 inches of concrete over the front porch and back stoop. But, the concrete subcontractor came by to frame it out and said he would have to break up a lot of it. It was a bit unnerving for the past 3 days, stepping over and around boards, rebar, rubble, sand, holes, etc. It doesn't help that our house looks like it is about to be condemned since they knocked out the posts and put temporary support to hold the roof up.

This morning we anxiously awaited the arrival of the cement truck. The girls were disappointed that he pulled up on the street behind the big pine tree. They couldn't get a good look at it. Eventually the truck pulled into the driveway. It was exciting to see the guys assemble the chute and distribute the concrete.

Then the view was so up close and personal,

the truck felt like a monster ready to invade my home.

Everyone got a front row seat. As I watched them pour and smooth, I could see these guys really knew what they were doing. I didn't know concrete could be so beautiful! I'll have to show you after they remove the framework.

Return to Life

I said the world stops for hospital visits. Our world is back in full spin. As I wrote my father's eulogy about how he has inspired my love of gardening, I didn't even know when I would get out to buy plants and get them in the ground. Since then, I have accomplished that - tomatoes, cucumbers, zucchini, peppers, and leeks. In April I picked up a package of green beans to plant and was going to start the seeds in the house. Never got around to it, but last week poked them into the garden soil. Today they finally sprouted from the surface.

Back in the full swing at the office. Daddy and kids on summer vacation. Home improvement projects started. Enjoying softball and full family home-run derby on the driveway. Today, the girls and I enjoyed visiting my friend Dorie, the European Market and a great day at the beach. Shopped for Maya's birthday party and the day has ended with a beautiful family bike ride at sunset. Darrin and the girls showed me a new bike trail they discovered. Feeling very relaxed and optimistic. : )

Last Goodbye

I believe we are all here for a Divine purpose. Some people feel the need to search for that purpose to make their lives more meaningful. Others never give it a moment of thought. Often times, I think everyone’s purpose here on earth is very much the same...

We are all here to learn and to create.

Coming from an artist, you may think this is a biased opinion. I assure you it is not. Creation is not limited to the arts. To be creative, you do not need to be a painter, musician, poet, writer, or dancer. My creativity was recognized when I was very young. Neither my mom or dad knew anything about art, but they taught me so much. They sometimes seemed puzzled by my creativity, not knowing where it came from, but I could say they taught me everything I know.

My father made his living as an accountant - a cost analyst. This is not a creative career – at least not for a man with his honesty and integrity. But, my father had the mind of a designer and an engineer. He was very proud to have told us that he designed and built our house where my brother and sisters and I grew up. Together with my mom they created a loving, nurturing environment for us and extended their home to friends, family, and even strangers with the warmth and hospitality that all of you have experienced. And with our home was a beautiful garden. My father’s greatest creative endeavor that he will be most remembered by.

Many people have told me how much my father has touched their lives. We all can learn so much from Jack Tobin through his life’s work.

Some of my best childhood memories are being in the garden with my Dad. Because of this, I have to admit – I love the smell of dirt. On a warm spring day, I would come home from school welcomed by a quite large, freshly tilled plot of land. Summer vacation was near.

I wasn’t the only one to share his joy of gardening. John and I, along with a few or more neighborhood friends would rush out to help. We were more than just a little enthusiastic as we bickered and fought over responsibility – who would get to pull the string to designate the row; who would get to dig the hole; who could put a handful of fertilizer in the bottom of the hole; who would push the dirt around the tender roots; and of course, who would get their hands on the most coveted - watering can.

I had no idea what it meant to be patient as a child. It was not until I had children of my own did I realize that my father was one of the most patient people on earth. I’m sure getting the plants into the ground took at least twice as long with all of our help, but he was not in a hurry. Gardening was his greatest joy, and he wanted to share with anyone who was interested.

We were kids and so we quickly grew bored of hard work and scattered off to play. My father continued the work on his own and enjoyed it every bit as much without assistants.

As we grew up and grew older, and moved on to our adult lives my father’s garden grew larger. For he was retired and could spend all the time he wanted out there. If you have ever grown your own vegetables, you know, it is a joy to share with others. People who did not know my father would offer me home-grown tomatoes. I would tell them, “No thank you. My parents have 100 tomato plants.” Their jaw would drop and they would say, “Why so many?” My answer, “They like to share.” Dad wanted everyone he knew to be able to come to our house and leave with as much as they would like. He cultivated abundance and his garden was a symbol of his generous spirit.

There is so much we can learn from my father’s life’s work not limited to these few things.

Be patient with others, especially children.

Do something that brings you so much joy, it never feels like work.

And, be generous with your harvest.

We have all been touched by the life of John Tobin. His spirit lives on in all of us. I will continue to carry his love in my heart. I ask that you do the same.

I will carry your love in my heart.

Early yesterday morning, my Father made his transition from this world. It was a peaceful finish to a long and beautiful life. The past couple of weeks, knowing that he was ready to let go soon, but still hanging on, I sat by his bedside as much as I could. Trying to communicate that we are all accepting of his departure I would sit and focus my thoughts... "I will carry your love in my heart."

Going Home

Spending so much time at my parent's house with all my sisters, mom and brother brings back so many childhood memories... people telling me I was so tall when I was the shortest person around – wondering what it would be like to be grown up – wondering if I would have a family of my own some day – wondering what it meant to be an artist and how I would do that? No one ever imagines caring for their father in a hospital bed in the living room of their childhood home. It sounds strange, but it is a truly beautiful experience for all of us to have this time together with him.

Precious Moments

I took my time getting to the hospital this morning. I was exhausted and wanted to rest a little while the nurses at the hospital were still caring for Dad. Shortly after I got to his room at 11, Hospice called to say they were ready to deliver the bed to my parent's house. By 3:00pm he was all settled in. I sat as long as I could, but I haven't seen my own family in so long. I wanted to get home. Two sisters stayed with my Mom. I came home to my family to see the girls before bedtime. Darrin and Maya ran out shopping. I was left with Ellie. I apologized for not being around much lately. I tried to explain why. We cried and hugged. I let her know that we shouldn't be too sad because Grandpa has had such a long wonderful life. Some people leave this world too soon, before they have lived a full life. But we are blessed. We wiped our tears and went hunting for the first few strawberries in the garden. After that she walked around the whole yard with me to look at how beautifully everything is growing. We both felt a lot better and I think of how my Father has has inspired my love of gardening.

Every thing happens as it should

Yesterday we met with Hospice. Within the next couple of days my Dad will be home with us. His departure will likely be very soon. I feel it would be a blessing to be by his side when he takes his last breath, but I have to say, the thought is also overwhelming. We are all blessed that his recent trip to the hospital has brought him back to a state of awareness that we have not seen in a long time. We feel that we are given a last glimpse of his true self, his smile, his personality. This whole experience seems to have happened with great purpose. He seems aware that this is our chance to say good-bye. My mom, who wanted to have him at home, will now be prepared and surrounded by the support of others. Please pray for our comfort and ease.

Healthcare

After this past week in the hospital I am back to being a little skeptical and angry. We are no longer dealing with people who are attentive, compassionate and helpful. My Mom was very confident in the decision she made regarding my Dad. Doctors are not present for conversation, but made us second guess ourselves and gave us false hope. I have to go back to work today after 11 days of sitting at the hospital day and night so that I could help my 78 year old mother piece together small bits of information. One is lucky to gather information if you happen to be in the room when a doctor or nurse walks in. When making decisions concerning life and death, you would think that a doctor would call you or agree to have a conversation if you request it. My Dad is clearly at the end of his life, I just pray that he doesn't have to suffer for long.

Life Choices

Don't give up.

I cannot begin to describe what my family is going through in regard to my Father's health and well being. It is too personal to share. The advancement of modern Western medicine is quite a blessing, but still at some point one must question how long we should artificially prolong someone's life? This hospital stay has improved his condition so much that he has exhibited his strong heart, strong spirit, sense of humor and a stronger physical body. While we all thought we might lose him a week ago, he is clearly not ready to let go. And so we continue to help him to hang on a little longer, the best we can.

Gratitude and Proximity

It is exactly 2 miles from my house to the hospital and my Mom's house is on the way. It is less than 2 miles from my house to my sister's house. She is recovering well from surgery. My Dad is off the respirator, will be moved from ICU, skip Intermediate Care and will be in a "regular" private hospital room tomorrow with physical and occupational therapy. Everyone I have dealt with at the hospital has been very attentive, compassionate, and helpful. I scheduled paid time off last week and asked for this week off without pay. The office is fine with that. I have had many offers from friends to help out with anything I need (such as babysitting). I am healthy. My daughters are healthy. My husband is healthy AND fabulous (He cleaned the house this weekend and did ALL the laundry). Did I mention he does ALL the grocery shopping?

I am still amazed at how my mind has let go of all I used to think I wanted to do, or had to do, or should do. Tomorrow begins day 7 of visiting the hospital all day and night. The world seems to stop for hospital visits.

Healthcare

Sometimes I am a little skeptical of health care these days, but after another long day at the hospital I am grateful that my family is being cared for. My father was taken to the ER yesterday and is in ICU. Thank you for your thoughts and prayers.

Acceptance

I spent fifteen hours at the hospital with my sister yesterday. I took two books that I have been meaning to read and a sketchbook, but didn't spend one minute on reading or sketching. I spent much of my time working on this tiny little (2") cross-stitch sampler. Counted cross-stitch could not be any more structured, planned and organized and I loved that about it. Here is my first attempt at this craft. As the day grew longer, you would think the process would get easier. The blue section was the last I did, and I could not figure out how to do it correctly. The colors and counting are all wrong. But, it doesn't matter. I was calm, sitting quietly with my hands creating. I will probably not do counted cross-stitch again, as I do not need to be quite that planned and organized. I'd rather be original. Yesterday it was the perfect little distraction to get me through the day. Today I embrace its imperfection as I know there are much more important issues to focus on and that you can't plan everything.

Blue Flower Pattern

Happy Mother's Day

I saw a little pug

We accumulated quite a pile of trash while thinking about the girls' Earth Day projects. When I sat down with them to work on theirs, I thought the bottom of egg carton cup looked like a little pug.

Little bits of happiness

Someday soon I will muster up enough courage to step into the unknown, but for now this [The Place In Between] describes very much how I feel. Some people near me think that I am unhappy. I am not. I am just afraid of briefly having nothing to hold on to. I supposed I could then say that I am afraid of nothing.

For now, here are a few of life's little pleasures that bring me joy.

Flowers can always make me happy. While we were out today doing a little Saturday running around, we picked up a few little flowers to spruce up the fairy garden. The girls each picked out a flower to call their very own - to love and care for. The first of many spring flowers!

Shortly after we arrived back home, Ellie busted 'becca trying to anonymously leave a May Day floral door basket. I think I would have eventually figured it out, as 'becca appreciates design*sponge as much as I do. I remember the DIY tutorial from a few days ago. Isn't it wonderful? Such a lovely gift that I will someday pay forward. Thanks 'becca, it made my day.

I finally bought the brown mary jane crocs that I have beeen deliberating over for a couple of years. (yes, years... that is crazy). I wasn't sure if I would like them. I have not taken them off since the moment I bought them (about 10 hours ago) and don't know if I ever will. I love them!

I think the 100 tulip bulbs produced more than 100 flowers! And, I could call this a before picture for the first of many home improvement projects. In a few short weeks I will have all new windows. When the window guy came for an estimate, Darrin explained that I would like to use the sunroom as an art studio. After measuring and describing the project, half the time the guy said "sunroom" and half the time he looked at me and said "your studio." That sounds really nice. : )

Decompression

Life has its ups and downs and I am rising up from one of its less than pleasant episodes. The past few weeks I have been feeling overwhelmed and stressed out. It happens. I think it happens to all of us. Through all of it I have learned this... I tend to put more pressure on myself than any outside force ever has. It may not be necessary to always see the whole. Maybe parts, bits, pieces are enough. Those who live life with blinders on may not always be myopic, just a little more focused.

Reap what you sow

All good things in all good time.

What you may be creating at the present

moment may not come to fruition for many months.

click to see larger

Do you only see the ordinary?

At school, we launched our Earth Day recycled art project 2 weeks ago. The art teacher has even offered extra credit points for bringing something in. There is still only my owl hanging on the very large bulletin board. And I thought with over 400 students in the school we would run out of room for the art. I can understand with busy schedules and spring weather (finally) that even my own two girls have not made anything yet.

When I emptied the plastic container of Parmesan cheese, I held up the lid at the dinner table.

"What does this look like?"

Ellie replied, "I don't know? A dog?"

I said "It's totally a FROG!"

They still didn't see it. I had to try to describe why I thought it did.

I told this story to 2 moms at school this morning as we looked at the blank Earth Day wall.

They said "See. You are so creative. Nobody thinks that way, but an artist."

Many of my friends are artists. I know lots of designers and lots of painters. If we were all in a room together they would agree with me on the frog or offer up a huge long list of other possibilities for my cheese can lid. Therefore, I think being creative is quite ordinary.

Then I find myself in a room full of people who all proclaim "I am not at all creative. I don't know how to make anything." Sometimes they act like I am a genius or a little bit of a freak for being even the least bit creative. (That's why I find comfort in hanging around artists.) I believe everyone is creative and people who say they are not were educated to NOT be creative. This is why I should be teaching art to children and "non-creative" adults.

I'd like to hear what you have to say. Please leave comments.

Does my cheese can lid look like a frog to you?

Do you have any other ideas about the cheese can lid?

Do you think all people have the potential to be a genius, or creative in some way and are taught that they are not? (intentionally or unintentionally)

Don't you think the word extraordinary is peculiar? It sounds like it is describing something more ordinary than ordinary. Extra-ordinary.

It's like music to your eyes.

This was my mandala that I painted for the IF topic of "focused" (but didn't post). One of Ellie's friends was over when I was painting it.

I saw her recently and she said "Miss Patti, did you ever finish that painting that you were working on while I was at your house?"

I said, "Not really. I didn't like it much and I put it away in a drawer."

She told me she liked it very much and didn't understand why I wouldn't. I told her artists do that often – set paintings aside for a while. Sometimes you take a few steps back, sometimes you walk away completely and the paintings might look a little different after some time has passed.

At the time, I found this piece to be mundane. Not the painting itself so much, but I felt that I had painted so many similar mandalas that I could not do it anymore.

My current situation finds me experiencing much discordance and coming back to this – I don't find it boring, but calm and harmonic.

To add to all this, Maya recently argued with me that she does not like art at all because it is BORING. I held up painting after painting and she told me every one was BORING. She is an adolescent, so it is a healthy transition to express her own individual self, but I still tried to defend myself and my art. After a few minutes of banter I gave up.

Maya loves music and has a gift for it. I tried to explain to her that a painting is like music to your eyes. There's movement, emphasis, harmony, rhythm, all the same elements music has, only it's visual. She did not agree. I'm thinking about taking every piece of art off the walls in our house and see what she says. If I told her to imagine the world without art, I don't think she would try. . . because her mother made the suggestion.

My recent work has been highly influenced by music and playing drums on Beatles Rock Band has added to my appreciation for rhythm - audible and visual. A painting can be like a song. It doesn't have to be deeply profound and encompass everything at once. It could just make you feel good for a few short moments.

Give a Hoot

Three years ago I was nominated to be the chairperson for Earth Day activities at school. Having already been characterized as the granola loving tree hugging nature girl, I'm a little shy about voicing my opinions and I have played it pretty low key so far. This year, Jodi (who was inspired by her son's creativity) suggested that we have the kids make art projects out of recycled trash. Needless to say, I love this idea! So here is my sample project to get the ball rolling.

It started with that little plastic ring seal from the gallon of milk. After grabbing the second plastic ring off the next gallon, I thought of eyes - owl eyes. The idea grew from there. Bottle caps completed the eyes. The nose is a lemon from the 7up box. The head, body and wing are cut out of cereal boxes. Feathers are cardboard tubes and granola bar boxes (yes, granola). The feet are drinking straws and twisty-ties. I enjoyed the paper sculpting so much, I'm thinking of a larger project for this year's Trash to Treasure Show.