by Stefani on 29-November-2007

It was kind of an icky day.

An unkind stranger, an injustice that will not be made right. (This merits sentence fragments, I assure you) Nothing awful, just grey and blech enough to hang vaporous over our day.

And so I went all broody and dark for a while.

Sipping tea, letting my kids tear the house apart, then take a (way too long) bath in the middle of the day, near flooding the bathroom. Heaven help me, I even let them break out the paint and glitter, in effort to occupy them while I went about my moping.

I made mac and cheese for dinner, and not the good homemade version either, just the blue box.

I skulked and read poetry and doodled, and said “Sure, whatever.” a lot.

I’m better now though. I’ve gotten it out of my system.

Really, if some petty ugliness is the worst of my problems, I live a charmed life.

At the height of my heavy sighing though, I made this:


I thought I’d throw in some marker with the cutting, just to change it up a little.

The making cheered me up, considerably, occupied my mind and hands, but now that it’s done it seems so sad, that she will sit there, waiting by that window for all time.

(See what I mean? Dark and broody.)

Oh, and should you ever turn your back on a little boy when there is a whole can full of Sharpies within reach, know this: plain old pink pearl erasers work like magic. Big, long, DARK marker lines came right off the laminate countertops.)

So, about that poetry …

I leave you with this one, one of my favorites, and the one that inspired the little piece above:

by Lexie Dean Robertson

I have not known the sweep of far blue seas
Where silver gulls lift wings to blown salt spray,
And suns come crashing through the long grey curve
Of rosy mist that marks the edge of day;
But I have known a sea of rippled green
Where wheatfields stretch beyond earth’s limpid hem,
And I have seen its hot waves kissed to bronze
By winds that whispered undulant through them.

I have not seen the dawn from thin high peaks
Where mountain fingers clutch at heaven’s blue,
And frail cloud vapors spread a chiffoned veil
To make a cruel beauty softly true;
But I have seen a quiet brown-fringed pool
Where redbirds stop to drink as they flash by,
And leaning there I’ve felt my heart lift up,
For its smooth mirrored depths reflect the sky.

I have not flung afar some flaming torch
To kindle valor in the hearts of men,
Or blaze a way of splendor to the goal
Where shackles loose and freedom’s paths begin;
But I have made my cottage hearthfire glow
To warm a dreary heart grown sad and chill,
And I have left it burning through dark nights,
And I have lit a candle on my sill.

I have not merited the world’s acclaim
Here in my little house close by the sod,
But I have walked through open doors to love,
And I, on bended knees, have talked with God.

Roxanne November 29, 2007 at 5:03 am

Crafting is always good for what ails you. Makes me feel better anyway. When I first saw your cutting I thought..”She’s waiting for her seafaring husband to come home.” And he does time for Christmas,too.

beki November 29, 2007 at 6:10 am

I think an icky day every now and then is good for us. It puts in perspective how wonderful the good (and normal) days really are.

Jade November 29, 2007 at 6:29 am

Sorry you had a lousy day. Hope today is better!

By the way, did you the the Austin Waldorf school is having it’s Winter Fair this Saturday? We’re planning on going if you want to join us. Just let me know!

Sarah Jackson November 29, 2007 at 7:20 am

What a lovely poem. I hope you’re feeling better today – that really was an icky bad day.

Oh, and I’m jealous that you and Jade can go to the winter fair together. No fair!

Stephanie November 29, 2007 at 10:40 am

What a beautiful poem, and the cut paper design fits it perfectly. Hope today is better for you. Too often I’ve done the same thing–given way too much influence to an absolute stranger who does not have my best interests at heart. I’m glad you could turn it around and make something lovely out of it.

molly November 29, 2007 at 11:29 am

I love your new piece. I feel dark and broody far too often, and feel injustices too deeply. What a relief when art and words can make you feel better. For me it was the twiggy stars and a parenting book. I hope all is better today.

molly November 29, 2007 at 12:07 pm

i think we deal with ‘dark’ the same way–we might make a dangerous combination together! 🙂 I see a new silhouette in that last line of your poem….

TumTum November 29, 2007 at 1:22 pm

Sheesh I am sorry about that unkind stranger. i encountered one about a week ago and its still bothering me. A girl who works at Target decided it would bea good idea to make fun of me and take my picture with her camera phone ( i dress weird), and man oh man I was angry and upset. I did talk to her manager and I hope she was fired or maybe that there is a new punishment system at target that involves being punched in the face. I hope you feel better soon. Your cutting is beautiful as usual.

Shelley November 29, 2007 at 2:24 pm

Ugh those dreary days! I do love the latest art piece though. Isn’t it interesting how completely art mirrors your mood – even when it’s completely subconcious? The only – only – good thing about days like that is the renewed appreciation of the good days!

lina November 29, 2007 at 8:09 pm

Totally what I was feeling like last week after a row with the manager of my children’s preschool. Sometimes these things take a while to work out of our system.

Tracy Harris November 30, 2007 at 5:15 am

I’m sorry to hear about your crappy day. I’d been in a funk for a number of days, and I think I just snapped out of it yesterday.

kristin November 30, 2007 at 8:00 am

if this is what you can do with dark and broody, don’t be afraid to go there again.

i can relate, relate, relate…

what is going on in the air?

Amber November 30, 2007 at 5:36 pm

Yes, some days can be filled with that ickiness but isn’t so nice that you have an outlet? And the results of that outlet are so beautiful?!;-)

Cheryl December 3, 2007 at 11:09 am

Hey there, man, I can totally relate to this post. Sorry to hear about it though. Things have been so crazy around here that I am WAAAAY behind. I opened google reader to over 300 unread posts – AHHHHH! Enjoy your trip!


PS – thanks for your iphone info, it is on my christmas list

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