I found my eldest on his sister's bed watching jazz guitar jam out sessions. This boy loves music and is really enjoying being in the jazz band this year at school. His musical abilities blow me away on a regular basis.
She started her day off painting.
This boy's lashes and sweet face have been pulling at my heartstrings his whole life. You, my son, were the start of this whole photography thing. My camera was drawn to you, and still is, whether you like it or not. <3
She started off playing around with Garage band, recording her beautiful voice singing "How Great is Our God" and then she moved on to funny face filter pictures. I decided to join in for a shot, and although it's not perfect, I'm glad I did.
I struggle to find words for this picture. I've been envisioning this image for awhile, because this painting and trunk mean so much to me. However, I have always considered myself to be a person who doesn't really attach deeply to material things. At one point, early in my adult life, I envisioned myself living with bare necessities and traveling the world, rather than tying myself down to a place where I would collect things. But, these 2 things. Well, there is a story. My Aunt Lynda painted this beautiful piece of abstract art. She is my Mom's sister and I have admired her artistic ability for as long as I can remember. She suffers from severe dementia now, and lives in assisted living. This terrible disease has stolen her artistic ability or even any memory that she is truly an artist. I can show her a painting she did and she'll say, "Oh, did I paint that?" But, we remember and I have proof hanging on my wall. Years ago, when I was visiting her at her home, she took me into her studio where she had tons of art hidden in a closet. This is one of the ones I loved, and she told me I could have it after she framed it for me. I asked her at one point, what she was thinking about when she painted it. She told me that she had been at the beach walking along the shore at night, and looked up at the row of houses with lights shining up above. She noticed the lines of the steps leading up to the homes above the sand dunes and was intrigued by the light and the lines. If I told her this today, she would have no memory of it and may not even recognize the painting. What a gift it is to have this in my home.
My Mom had this trunk shipped to me all the way from my childhood home in NC, where she still lives. There is a longer story behind my parents acquiring the trunk 40+ years ago, but I won't go into that here. What I'll tell you is that my Mama's fingers painted gold onto each of these leaves every day for weeks, as her baby (my older sister) slept, and she watched her soap opera. Funny thing is, I can't even imagine my Mama watching a soap opera these days. Oh, how we change! As I was growing up, it was a known fact that you DO NOT open the trunk. "It'll cut your fingers off if that lid slams on you!" About once/year, my Mama would open the trunk and pull out hand-me-downs she had been storing. I absolutely loved going through the hand-me-downs and picking out all of the the clothes my older sis had worn, that now fit me.
My daughter is sitting here beneath two treasured heirlooms, passed down by two beautiful and treasured women who are not what they used to be. We all change and sometimes the change hurts and isn't what we imagined. Sometimes the change involves transformation into something more beautiful than we could have imagined. And, yet, in the midst of the broken mess that life can feel like at times, there is new life springing forth, ready to create and contribute beauty to this hurting world.
I could have picked the pictures that actually showed us on skis that day we went cross-country skiing for the first time. But, my handsome son, this image had to be the one.
French toast the morning after having a sleepover with your best bud. It's a win-win situation.