For the Count

everytime pictures go up

another finger, another ring

another gown

and then im down

for the count

one. high horse unmount.

two. God is in Control

three. my heart He stole

four. I have more than a crush

five. so no need for a rush

six. dating=more roses

seven. poems he composes

eight. God is good.

nine. I would.

ten. just a little more time.

soon, soon he will be mine.

but until then, with Him I dine.

not a bad dinner date I've won,

three men, Father, Spirit, Son.

yippee-cai-yay

a good life, I'd say.

Squirrel the Dog

Before I start this story, I must let you know that it is the co-result of my boyfriend and I as we sat through his brothers High School graduation in a non-air-conditioned building (Burrus Hall for those who are familiar with Virginia Tech). We alternated every sentence or so which will be shown with italics for Stephen. So without further adieu....

Once upon a time there was a squirrel named Dog. His name quite confused his woodland critter friends. Woody the woodchuck was so befuddled that when he heard from Squirrella the Squirrel that "Dog" was coming for a visit, he upchucked a large chunk of wood from fear of a teethy barking minion. Squirrella, apalled by Woody's behavior exclaimed in disgust, "No, you coardly woodchuck! Dog the squirrel."

"Oh," He responded a bit ashamed, "Why ever would a mother squirrel name her squirllet 'Dog,' such a ferocious animal." and he gave a little shiver just thinking about it. And that's when Dog arrived and Woody knew exactly why his mother had named him after such a ferocious beast. His ears were floppy and so was his tongue. It Hung stupidly from his mouth, but not in an entirely un-cute way, more in a puppy-like fashion. His puppy-like demeanor explained why Squirrella was so entirely smitten with him.

To the passer-by his puppy face made him look a bit like a Ruhtah (the term for socially inept Squirrels), He in fact was not and Squirrel was a little stumped for words. Though he might have looked like a Ruhtah, Dog was quite the adept acorn acquirer which made him all the more attractive to Squirrella. Even more endearing was the way his ears and tongue flopped around as he slipped with ease up and down trees, twirling round limbs and oh, how he scurried! But now was the time; Squirrella had put Dog on an unachievable pedestal for far too long- he HAD to be hers. So she opened to squeak and said, "Aye Dog, I like your nuts....." then blushing at her word vomit she continued to explain saying, "No, no! I didn't mean it like that! oh I've Ruined things. I should go."

But chuckling at Squirrella's Blushing fur Dog replied, "No, Don't I picked out two expecially large acorns just for you. I know acorns are your favorite flavor nut. Would you like to go for a scurry?"

Delighted at the invitation, Squirella graciously accepted and they scurried the day away until they fell from exhaustion. As they lay laughing at their fun filled day Dog noticed something he hadn't before....Squirrella was painfully unattractive. He waited until she fell asleep and left to never return. Dog lived happily ever after.

Unfortunately, Stephen took the ending of the ceremony to end the story in a most sad way, but I like to think it is closer to reality than many squirrel stories.

Sputtering Words

My words, once, all a sputter

twirled and skipped into your ear

finding no rest they started to mutter

of all my unhinging fear.

so nervous was I, made to stutter.

things should not have felt so queer.

you said I'll make a good mother

but never will you see it dear

Although your voice, smooth as butter

my life was changing, shifting gear

"I love you" never did I utter.

surprised it ended, with more than one tear

On Gold finch wings my heart a flutter

my God did find me and together we're

in love unending, safe and pure; what're

we to do but dance, in a joy so severe.

This is a poem I wrote a good while back in the process of getting over someone and the realization of my dependence on the wrong thing. What's interesting is the insecurity and unease I felt with my ex doesn't exists with my current boy. It took being with someone who knows me and likes me regardless of the spit that comes from my mouth to see.....

I know there is some charm and fun in being nervous with someone you are starting to love, but it's premature, it's only the beginning the more charming is the comfort in knowing you're accepted.

It is like a great man of God and L'Abri once said

" The assurance of forgiveness and acceptance helps us to forget how we look to ourself and to others and we start to rest in God's love......Guilt disappears in forgiveness and shame disappears when I, in the depth of my being, start to understand that I am accepted."

-Henrik

So thanks to a young man in my life, I am able to relate this truth of God in the reality of relationships I live in. I like resting in love. How much greater to rest in Love than to enjoy charmed nervousness.

Reflections in my art history

I was recently a chaperone on an 8th grade DC trip for the school I student taught at and went to in my younger years. I half agreed to go on this silly little trip, in traumatic heat with 11 small hooligans to herd, all for the joy of roaming the halls of the national gallery or at least the hirshorn galleries/sculpture gardens. To my dismay none of the 11 students in my group wanted to go to an art museum.

Somehow, to these children, art museums seem boring compared to Air and Space or the Natural History museum or American Indian museum. I was completely floored. This makes no sense to me. And how did I, the resident arteest, end up with 11 kids who don't particularly care for art.

I think it is needless to say that I sucked it up and went where they wanted to go. However I may have manipulated them to go to the American Indian museum over natural history.....but how could I resist there was a Brian Jungen Exhibit and it was AMAZING. How could anyone not appreciate an ostrich made from suitcases. It is even more impressive on display since it hangs alongside other suitcase animals such as an armadillo, gator and shark on a giant mobile. (don't tell Calder)

I really encouraged the boys in my group to at least see the exhibit. I talked of how he makes sculptures out of nikes and baseball gloves and that one of his sculptures you can walk inside and actually sit in it (they were really big on just sitting).

Unfortunately I was wrong on one part, the large wigwam sculpture made from trash-cans.....you can't sit in it, well you can, and I did, but you aren't supposed to. Fortunately for me, the cute african american man guarding the art, wasn't upset at all and actually found my lounging, in it's perfect stadium seating, amusing.

The boys eventually came through and loved the art; so great success, middle school boys realize art isn't 'totally lame.' I feel I won a small battle, and maybe one day they will be cultured young gentlemen.

So I got off track. When I was younger I appreciated the impressionists and meticulous skill in painting. I even thought Bob Ross a great talent. As I went through art school, I suppose I was brainwashed and now I appreciate so much more.

I can only hope that there's been a spark in them of some form of love for art.

Thank you Brian Jungen, you have made art relevant to teenage boys.

An Ode to Post Grad

In May I have graduated,

by June I am quite frustrated,

Painting seems to ease anxiety,

but the bills they keep on piling.

what can an artist do for society,

on the verge of falling from propriety?

My lack of options is beguiling.

My ability and production is abundant,

My loss of enthusiasm redundant.

Uneasiness: consequential,

Prayer: Essential.

Cash flow: minimum,

Trust level: maximum.

On the brink of regression

The Lord shall be my great obsession.