Nurturing Retreat Day 3

After coffee this morning, Barbara told us the humidity kept our masks sticky. She dried them on a warm stove while we did our next painting project. We took out our journals and she demonstrated making a thick line. Then she made branches off that line with more branches and lines off those. She encouraged us to try both our brushes, and I relished in the fine lines my other brush could create. I made this huge, expanding tree branch with lots and lots of branches of blue and greens. Then I added golden pollen pods all over.

She then told us to paint our clay vessels into this picture. Our painted vessel didn't have to be an exact replica of the clay version, and indeed mine changed. I used purple, flesh and gold colors. The flat bowl had more of a pedastal to fit onto a tree branch and golden rays rose out of it upward. I thought it was done. Barbara encouraged me to dig deeper by focusing on one blank corner. I stemmed my frustration at thinking I was done, and did as she suggested. I found a red flower of heart shapes growing on a branch with a lime-green background. Time was up and I was grateful to her for pushing me just a little. She said that she would do this for us throughout.

To break up each day, we took walks outdoors. The first day after lunch, I explored a dirt path through the woods to the Westport River we could only see from on high the porch. It was a lovely path with arch supports erected here and there to keep the jungle away from the path and high overhead. Below on the river was a lone row boat at the end of the pier, and the views up and down the river were magnificent. I sat in the sun on a rock and just breathed. My trek back up hill got my heart pumping really well. Today, Barbara took us to Westport Town Beach that could only be accessed by permit if you lived on the Point. She led us on a lovely, long walk on a surprisingly beautiful sandy beach. I was surprised because our beach is rocky. I didn't expect such an expanse of sand here, and was well pleased. I love a sandy beach. We collected trinkets to adorn our masks like shells and feathers. It was very refreshing, and our bare feet in the sand and the ocean felt magnificent.

Back in the dining room, we fetched our masks. I had no idea what to do next. I watched as other dove into colors and began painting their faces that were not their faces with abandon. I decided my face would be gold. I made sure I had a nice even golden coating over all, and needed to use a hair dryer on some areas I thought needed extra paint. What was I supposed to do next? It was hard figuring out how to adorn my face that was not my face. These masks and our paintings were meant to give a voice to that voice inside us that is never allowed to speak. What will they say? I just let it flow.


I began with royal blue eyeliner, Egyptian style, but extended it out to the side as if the blue were glasses instead. Then I put black wavy lines over the upper and lower eyes. I painted half the eyes with silver and then had to decide if I wanted pupils. I tried one, and it was heart shaped. I liked it and added one to the other even though the eyes now looked kind of creepy. Then I added lashes up and down. I gave her lipstick and a smile, and glued sea shells on her face. Then I glued one of those 1970's seashell necklaces around her face creating hair adornments and earrings plus a hanger in back. Wiring on the sides helped hold this in place. I found a "Love" heart bead with a scrimshaw rose on it too and that became her "third eye". From that I painted lines to create a place for colored, shiny beads and feathers to create a headdress. I put a bead over the miniature sand dollar too. When she was finished, she was a little hard to look at. We put them on the mantle in the living room.

After dinner, Barbara had us all sit in the living room and look at our masks to see if they would speak to us. In turn, we shared what they said. Mine told me that the growths on my face that are benign and can be ugly are not. I accept them and embrace them because I inherited them from my mother, and they make my face unique. Barbara asked me to describe my mask in three words. I said Light, Joy and Love. These are what my mask represents for me. I am those things, and all I have to do is wear them with courage and ground in them. I felt those words in my core, and they were good.

Nurturing Retreat Day 2

I woke early and was at Snowden House by 8:45am. Our first class started at 9:00am. Everyone was finishing breakfast and I fixed myself a cup of coffee on the way to the dining room. After saying, "Good Morning!", and chatting a bit, I noticed we were short one participant. "Where's D?" I asked. "She left", Barbara said, "I'm not judging her." Apparently, the younger woman from Manhattan must have decided that either this retreat was not for her, or the house was not what she expected. It was a very rustic, old farm/beach house. Maybe she wanted more modern. She did have the only private bath, but it had a claw-foot tub and no shower. Who knows? We let it go. Now we had two bathrooms to use. The only problem was every time we walked through that bedroom to the downstairs bathroom, we thought of her hasty retreat as we looked at the unmade bed left abandoned. We let it alone.

Our first class was to play with clay. Barbara divided up the huge grey chunk of clay into palm-size pieces and asked us to close our eyes. We imagined what we wanted and were asked to create it without looking. This was our first lesson in trust. We all came up with something different. My husband told my daughter-in-law I was going back to preschool over the weekend. It felt just like that to all of us. We were learning to play like children again with open creativity and no judgement or criticism.It was really fun! What I discovered, and I wasn't the only one, was that what I imagined what exactly what I created: Little Princess Katherine on her ornate throne in the forest of birch, oak and maple trees surrounded by rabbits and a baby dragon. I wrote down the beginning of a children's book idea on the index card Barbara gave us to remember what we were thinking about when we created our pieces.

When we arrived the day before, Barbara gave us all a lovely bag containing our paint set, journal book, a map of Westport and a bottle of water. After our clay play, we took out our journals and Barbara told us to paint anything we wanted on the first page with any color we wished. She demonstrated for us by drawing a line, squiggles and just doodling. That's what we basically did. We doodled in paint and I saw how the first brush could make fat lines and fine lines. It was really fun. Next she demonstrated just making a wandering grey line all over the page until we stopped. "Look and see if you see anything in the shapes of the line, and feel free to expand your vision," she said. I saw a red-winged blackbird with a gold beak, a flower, a mole, and a Venus Fly trap I couldn't quite make look "right". "If you don't see anything," she added, "just play with color." So I did. Her instructions were specific, but loose. She wanted us to remain light and free to explore. It was important not to get caught up in expectations, but to just let whatever wanted to come out of us on the page come out. I felt so free. So did everyone else.

Barbara did all the cooking, hosting and serving. Her partner, Steve, helped by washing all the dishes and fetching what Barbara needed, plus shuttle service to the airport. They made a great, functional and very organized pair. After a lovely lunch, Barbara gave us another chunk of clay. This time we could see what we were creating. She once again gave us instruction but encouraged us to let the clay talk to us instead of forcing a creation. She told us to make a ball, then press our thumb into the center. We pressed against the sides with our thumbs until the hole got bigger and we were making a vessel. My vessel ended up being a nice medicine bowl. We were told we were not going to keep any of the clay creations because they would have to be fired and there were no facilities for doing that. Photographs of our creations had to suffice. We left all our creations displayed on the piano top and on a table in the living room for the entire weekend.

The pies de resistance of the night was creating our mask crysallis. Barbara's theme for the weekend was about planting: seeding, planting and harvesting (I'm sure she used different words, I don't have my syllabus with me right now. Please forgive me, Barbara.) Again, this was an exercise in trust. We could not see or speak, those of us who chose to have our plaster casts over our entire face, except the nostrils in order to breathe.

We covered our faces in Vaseline first after putting on headbands and bobby pins to hold our hair back as needed. Then we covered ourselves, the floor and furniture with plastic sheets.One by one, and sometimes in teams, we started across the forehead and worked our way down each face gently pressing on small precut sheets of plaster covered gauze that we dipped in bowls of water to activate the plaster. We squeezed each pieces of water before placing it on the face. We put at least three coats of plaster sheets over the entire face to make the mask sturdy enough to host paint and adornments. The evening went on and we were all fascinated by this process. We created a nice mess, but as Barbara finished the last woman, she gave me and Dian permission to leave as we were the only two not staying in the house. I was grateful because I was very tired at that point. We let our masks dry and harden over night.

Nurturing Retreat Day 1

I attended a retreat this past weekend in Westport, MA called Nurturing Your Creative Spirit.  The leader, Barbara Barry, created Art for Self-Discovery for Women. I was the only local woman who attended, so I chose to sleep in my own bed, eat breakfast at home and show up at the rustic old beach house to enjoy coffee with the other five women from NY and NJ. I stayed for all other meals and nighttime activities though.

The retreat began Thursday afternoon, and I was the second one to arrive. Until 6pm, as women slowly entered the house with tales of traffic woes that delayed their trip, we all got to know one another. I heard on the local news that a jumper off the Braga Bridge caused a traffic jam on Route 195E.

Once we were all there, we enjoyed appetizers and non-alcoholic beverages.  Alcohol would be served during our final celebration on Saturday night. After a lovely dinner, we cleared the old wooden dining room table, removed the leaves and covered it with plastic. Barbara then brought out a perfectly -fitting round cloth covering with a large black circle near the edge and a smaller one in the center.

We all stood around the circle while she divided it into seven sections with masking tape. We all then chose a color of tempura paint and a brush with which we began our group painting with a symbol of our choice. I chose  a leaf. We continued on like this as we moved around the circle and added more symbols, lines or whatever we wanted to each section in turn. We also swapped colors or chose new colors as desired when instructed. Eventually we began adding lines or dots to other's images until the wheel looked full. Barbara then peeled off the tape and we joined the sections with lines or dots as images moved each of us to paint. Lastly, we left our signature line in the center to complete the paunting. I chose a yellow dash-dot pattern. Voila! The painting was complete and we walked around it amazed at how interesting and lovely it was. We also shared how fun it was to paint as a group.

Easter Memory

I have always loved Easter and springtime. The clean air outside is perfumed by daffodils and tulips, and the birds seem to sing just a little louder.

My mother took all ten children shopping each year to buy new clothes. My parents were hard-working people. My father's full-time job was as a mechanic at Boston Edison Company. He always believed he should have everything he desired for his family as long as he made sure "they didn't shut it off or take it away." To make ends meet, he sometimes worked a second or third job. My mother, in addition to making our clothes and cooking all our meals, worked full-time at night for "Ma Bell" as a telephone operator.

Shopping for new clothes once each year was a rare treat, and we always got very excited. We went to the local department store and had great fun choosing pretty dresses; straw hats adorned with flowers and a ribbon, a pretty coordinated coat, Patten-leather shoes, white ankle socks trimmed with lace, and all new underwear. My brothers got new jackets, pants, shirts, ties, shiny shoes, a nice fedora-style hat and, again, all new underwear.

Dressing for Mass on Easter morning after finding our filled Easter baskets that the Easter Bunny hid for us was so exciting! Parading into church all in a row with my very religious mother in the lead and my father pulling up the rear for his once-a-year token church visit was priceless. Our family filled an entire pew and we all looked great!

As neighbors and friends of our family watched us make our entrance, I know my parents felt the pride they deserved for working so hard to provide us with everything. We were poor, but we felt rich. Happy Easter to you and your family from me and mine. God bless us all.

I feel different this holiday season.

Me in Chorus last Christmas

Me as Mrs. Claus

This holiday season is usually uplifting for my Spirit. This year, I'm not feeling the lift as much. I'm not sure why. I really don't think it was the election results, as my husband suspects. I just feel heavy. I quit the Chorus this season for the first time at Christmas. I'll go back in the spring. My heart just wasn't in it this year. I wasn't doing the work, so I paid attention to that behavior and sat in the audience instead. It was a beautiful concert, and really helped to lift my Spirit a bit. I loved watching my friends' faces while they sang. One of the sopranos was even dancing...just like I do. I loved it. It was a good start to my Spiritual shift.

Yesterday, I baked my Grandmother's oatmeal rolls and some Tollhouse Cookies. This morning I baked sugar cookies with red and green sprinkles. They taste delicious. I hope the rolls do. I always worry about burning them or drying them out. I haven't made them in years. Everything gets lost when you don't do it or use it, even baking. It feels good to be done with preparations for the Family Christmas party later today. I'm really looking forward to seeing everyone and being festive.

All my shopping is done. I'm keeping it lean this year. I have always over-shopped. I just didn't feel like it. I didn't even want a real tree. I didn't want the work of cleaning up dead needles later. I just pulled out the table-top fake tree, and with my little ceramic trees and a tree-smelling candle, it's enough. I also have a lit wreath on my balcony. My house is festive, just not as much as usual.

Brutha Jimmy

Maybe that's the point. The usual way I have always celebrated the holidays just feels too much. I am tired. I just don't want to do all that work. I did enough, though. I force myself to do what my inner voice says I'm too tired to do. And, when I'm done, I'm happy I did it. "Fake it 'til you make it." That's my motto this season. I don't know why. I guess it doesn't matter. It just is. And, that's okay.

Sistah Mere

If you're feeling heavied out this season, too, I'm not alone. Thanks. I plan to spend today doing a lot of smiling, laughing, eating, drinking, playing and holding my Grandbaby. I can't think of a better way to spend a day. I hope you get at least one day like this before the year's end. I know I'll get at least one more. If not then just smile at a stranger without expectation. Even if they don't respond, which would surprise me (but there are a few like that), they will pass that smile onto someone else. You just won't know about it. Look in the mirror and smile at yourself.  Something inside will shift. You will lighten up just a little. I do, but then, I can be pretty silly sometimes. Silly is a good thing. Try it. You may like it.

Photo by Suzanne Szetela

I wish us all a happy, healthy, very special Holiday Season. Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukah, and happy Winter Solstice. Whatever you celebrate at year's end, I hope it lifts your Spirit. When your Spirit is light, it helps light the World. Our world could use a lot more Light. Let's light her up, Y'all!
"God bless us everyone."

Bad Moms

I saw the movie, Bad Moms, last night. It was just hilarious! My sister-in-law thought it was just "ok". When I heard that, I thought, "Hmm," now I can't wait to see what she didn't like about it. Throughout the movie, I kept saying to my friend, "Oh she wouldn't have liked this," and, "she wouldn't have liked that!" I guess unless you've been a Bad Mom, there's no way you could relate to this movie, or even catch the humor in some of its references like when Amy, played by Mila Kunis, is laying on the couch feeling sorry for her self because her whole family left her and she felt like such a Bad Mom. Her two friends come in to get her ass off that couch, and Carla, played by Kathryn Hahn, says, "Get your tits up off that couch, turn off "Twelve Years a Slave", and get to that auditorium!" I am paraphrasing here, but that movie reference was priceless! What mother hasn't felt like a slave to their family's needs at some point? Especially, if that mother is trying her best to be the best mother she can be, which essentially means a "Super Woman".

The movie is wild, honest, crass, and full of humor. We belly-laughed many times before the credits rolled. By the way, wait for the credits, because one of the best parts comes during them. I was a Bad Mom. Being a Bad Mom really means trying to do it all, and never being very successful at all of it. That was me. I tried my hardest to be a good mom, but sometimes my failures still haunt me. I know what they were, and now I just force myself to get my tits up off the couch and move on!

As a side note, Christina Applegate and Jada Pinkett Smith played characters I've never seen them do before. It was interesting to watch.

Father's Day

My Dad and My Son

Happy Father's Day! I love that our society created holidays to celebrate the humans' need to emote and express with Joy. It is always important to acknowledge and celebrate Love. I love my father. I love that my son is a new father. I love that he got a father to love in adulthood. I love that my husband became a father and a grandfather through me. I love that I fulfilled my fatherly role to the best of my ability. Not only did I bear and raise a child, I was the father substitute for my siblings growing up. Fathers rock!

Fathers also have a bad rep. There are men who seeded children who are not fathers. There are fathers who never learned how to Love. There are angry, bitter fathers. But, there are also fathers who weren't allowed to try. And, there are fathers who prefer just not to know. They are detached.

Fatherhood is important. Fatherly Love is critical, like Motherly Love. In an ideal world, both are required to raise healthy children. When one man and one woman are not possible or desired, the roles should nevertheless be maintained at some reasonable level. The roles being preserved should be respected and make a positive difference in a young Life. Fathers matter. Have you heard Kelly Clarkson's new song, Piece by Piece? Her last American Idol performance as the first season winner fourteen years ago will make you cry. She sings about her father and her husband. It is a very powerful song about fathers and men. I love that it reached number one on the charts.

Fatherhood is necessary. Human beings are masculine and feminine. We have combined genes from our mothers and our fathers. We are social beings who need Connection, Acceptance and Love. We need Fathers as much as we need Mothers. Sometimes it does take a Village to raise a child. I bought Hillary's book on the subject way back in 1996. Family matters. Family is the social network in which we live and hopefully thrive. In a good way. Families vary in size and structure. Sometimes in society, we try to put round family pegs into square societal holes. Differences are important. We are all different. Viva la difference!

Parents are required. Parenting, mentoring, and guidance are needed. They are also extremely hard to Live. They are difficult to practice. It is one thing to think and believe a behavior, and another to do it. Especially if your goal is to do it well and with a positive effect. If a parent makes a mistake or misbehaves, they must try again and strive to be better. There is no handbook on how to parent. Everybody is different. Every situation is different.There are common denominators, but many other variables affecting any given situation.

Forgiveness is required. Sometimes, we must forgive a parent, a child or ourselves. Self forgiveness can be the most difficult. But it is important to persevere, so Love can survive and thrive. Love will survive. And, Love will overcome fear. Fathers and Mothers teach Love. They demonstrate Love. Hopefully, we all strive to learn to love Unconditionally. This is the most difficult Love of all to Live. Unconditional Love is possible. Does one love a dog or cat unconditionally? Why would a person deserve any less Love than a beloved pet?

My Son and His Son

When you remember your father, your husband, your brother, your grandfather, your uncle, your cousin, your son, or your friend, remember that Love reigns today! We are celebrating our Love of Fathers. We have created this day to celebrate our Love. Happy Father's Day!