Shapeshifting

Say say say (ear worm alert)

Mondo Beyondo, Amigos

So I wrote my list.

 

I stared myself down in the mirror and didn't Photoshop it (just took it in the dark, obviously).

Then decided to be brave and post the list here.

I will...
create a beautiful garden
live with another soul dog, called Almondine
live in our current home happily for as long as we wish
be the best mother for Evie I can be
die in good health, peacefully, in extreme old age
be a superb photographer
have my art on our walls
have my art on others' walls
work with art, dogs and nature to combine photography and art in some way
be a great hostess
not be afraid
write and/or create a very very good book that sells a million copies
live in financial freedom and abundance
live in China for six months with Charlie and Evie
visit Vietnam
speak with 'the dead'
always be happy with Charlie
be accepting of the ageing process and do it with class and humour
be physically, emotionally and spiritually fit, strong and flexible
weigh a healthy 140lbs
show Charlie how to love dogs
speak fluent Mandarin
meet my online sister, Alisa in real life
make use of the internet to build an extremely succesful business around my creative activities
be courageous, determined, inspired and inspiring
LOVE!

In which I am utterly unimpressed with myself.

After Evie went to bed I tried something I hadn’t yet done with our living room. I turned off the lights, drew the curtains, lit a big candle, put on some Shearwater, poured a glass of wine and cracked open a new notebook in order to write my Mondo Beyondo list. The living room, thus far, has been all about light and air because I need them so much. I wasn’t sure if it would convert to 'cosy and nurturing'. It totally does. I got excited just thinking how it will be with the woodburner going. The whole atmosphere was so restorative, so peaceful, so ‘home’.

Anyway, the writing of the list was hard. Really hard. I found a lot of it revolved around my relationship with Evie and how I want to be as a mother, which I wasn’t really aiming for although naturally it wasn’t unexpected. And then, sigh, I suddenly started writing about something I wanted to do – creatively – and (god I could puke with the predictability) it’s kind of something new. I mean how often can I do this? How often can I have The Big Idea, not do it, then have another big idea. Of course, now my brain has locked onto it. I don’t know whether to trust it and the space and mood it sprang from, whether to try to integrate it with existing plans (that’s what I’m  trying to do today) or just put it down to the feelgoods (the mood, not the band) and drop it. I simply don't have time to spare for anything else 'as well as'. So I think I’ll do another list that’s maybe a little more conscious and thought out. Before I go getting those business cards printed.

Sometimes I drive me absolutely crazy.

Jelly

How extremely cool is this? I'd never heard of co-working but now I love the idea. I can't make this one but I'm hoping it takes off because I'd love to go along.

Such a simple concept but what a difference it could make.

Reporting in

Apologies, I'm in a chatty mood. Hormones have subsided; I slept all night, on my own in our big bed with the door shut for the first time in three years last night; it's a beautiful day...so I'm chatty.

I'm still thinking about the last couple of posts. I had a moment this morning when I was reading something that was talking about design and I thought,"Wait...I love design. I appreciate great design. Even quite good design. Even an attempt at design is very cool. So if there are bloggers out there presenting themselves in a certain way...you could say that they're simply designing an aspect of themselves. And isn't that okay? Does everyone have to be soul and dirty washing baring all the time? No. And...if I infer that their presentation is 'lifestyle marketing' (cos I've been known to bring my work home with me) then that's my issue to deal with not theirs."

And really, my point was so not about clothes. I used 'floaty skirt' to talk about a certain niche in blogging. I didn't actually mean A Floaty Skirt. My trouble is that I write and don't edit. I write and don't even think it in words before I write. I spill. And in doing so I'm clumsy sometimes but y'know...I'm not a journalist (anymore). I'm blogging and that's how I  blog. 

What else have I been up to apart from way too much thinking and not enough doing?

I've been going to the gym. I say 'the gym' but it's actually one of those women only fitness clubs. No mirrors, no posing, no men leaving pools of sweat on the equipment and hogging the machines. Back in the days when I was a gym manager I'd've not looked twice at one of these establishments but now? I love it! You go in, you have a bit of a chat if you feel like it, you do your circuits and you leave. I do my workout before I pick up Evie from nursery. I'm hoping to lose a little weight, drop some body fat percentage points and tone my wasted muscles but I'm finding the best thing is just using all my muscle groups and working out the knots. It seems that everything I do in my day-to-day life is in the forward/backward plane. Using the machines at the gym has me moving in full circles, rotating joints and it's so good for releasing the stress that sits and grumbles in my poor body.

I've been panicking - and I mean really - about the fact that in eleven days I have my first photographic gig. It's snuck up on me what with all the moving house and stuff. I suppose I thought maybe it wouldn't actually happen when I took a deep breath and said yes back in whenever it was. Don't get me wrong, it's not dogs and it's not huge but it is very important to the people who will be there and it is very important to me (and them) that I do a very good job. I'm thrilled, grateful and excited to actually have something to do rather than just talk about but did I mention the panic?

I'm lucky to be taking part in the August Mondo Beyondo session and it looks like it's going to be very inspiring. Really, how can it not be? I'm overwhelmed by the number of discussions going on already, I just don't have time to join in everyday but they're making for some great reading.

I'm trying to come up with a cool business card design so I can get some Moo cards printed before Saturday week. I'm also trying to remind myself that it doesn't need to be perfect.  It needs to be functional for now. I can design something lovely at a later date when I have more time. I'm thinking I need to re-read The War of Art.

For the first time in ten years, my dogs have fleas. Country living. Flea treatments all round and a good going over with the flea comb are in their immediate future. Ugh.

I have the makings of a low fence on its way so that I can partition the kitchen garden and decide which part the chickens will go in (in a henhouse and run). I don't think Jackson and chickens is a good combo, hence the fence. Bantams baby, Bantams.

That's it. I've lived, parented, worked, blogged, played, planned, gardened, cleaned, dreamt, cooked, slept, exercised, read, panicked, walked, photographed, paddled, cloud-gazed, cuddled and other things besides. Mostly, I have succeeded in not murdering anyone which, given the level of PMS I've been dealing with for two freaking weeks, is a minor miracle in itself. Go me.

After a fashion

Well, that last post started out being about how I'd discovered my love of home was stronger and more important than anything else and how that made me feel safe and liberated and creative. Then it turned into something completely different. Excellent!

And then I read this post.

Which is interesting. I love Jamie Ridler's work  and I like her thinking here even though despite the fact that would say I dress to suit my mood, it's not for me. But it's reminded  me that 99.9% of the time, how another person motivates themselves is harmless and none of my business.

I'm wondering, what exactly do I say to the Universe with my choice of clothes? I don't care what I say to anyone else most of the time, but the Universe..? Not exactly Gok Wan. In fact, er, sooo not exactly Gok Wan (bless him) that I can't help but think it doesn't actually notice.

So I suppose dress up, dress down...no harm done. Just so long as you don't imply that your  skinny jeans will make me look a) good, b) 25 and/or c) achingly hip.

Actually, don't mention aching hips at all.

In my back yard

Yes. So. There was and is the 3YP (3 Year Plan). It still stands in a much improved form. Some of it has been achieved, some of it [ that should have been] hasn't. Some of the steps are taking longer than others, mainly because the the bits that have been achieved were achieved more quickly than we could have imagined and I'm still spinning a little. As is clear in the completely muddled intro to this post.

After we'd been here about a month I started to feel edgy. It seemed that we/I had lost all the focus that had propelled us through the previous couple of months and I was scared that we'd fall back into bad habits: talking the talk but never, ever walking the walk.

I remember reading an interview or seeing a TV show or something where an aspiring actor spoke about heading for LA and taking a job as a waiter while looking for his big break. He said that some people make it and some just keep waiting, in both senses. And after a while, you're no longer an aspiring actor, you're just a waiter. That has stayed with me for years. 

My response to this was to get moving with some regular setting of teeny, tiny goals. Baby steps that are so small that even I can't slide under them into procrastination. Of course these things work better when you're being supported by someone else so I do fortnightly planning and reporting with Jackie, here in real life, and daily 'I did something good today' check-ins with Alisa. Finally using IM to discuss something other than the Fug Girls and power-crazed three year olds. Dude.

We split things into areas of activity. For example, some of mine are Photography, Family/Home, Etsy, Crappy Admin (I hate paperwork and avoid it at any opportunity thus causing myself great and unnecessary stress) and Me (the much vaunted 'personal care' type stuff, be it a long hot bath, a long cold walk or a short, sharp talking to. Me time.)

I have things to do within a week, two weeks, 1 month, 3 months, 6 months, 1 year, 3 years and 5 years. Hardly revolutionary I know, but I've never done it before. The short term things are the teeny, tiny steps; the 5 year goals are the Big Dreams. I like this because I tend to spend so much time thinking about what exactly the Big Dreams might be that I don't actually take any tiny steps. This way, I'm sorted on the Big Dream front. They're written down in b&w. Waiting. I don't need to keep thinking about them.

Now, a major part of the 3YP (AKA the 5YP in some areas) is my work. I've already said that I want to do dog photography, eventually have it take over from my current part-time work and then overtake it in terms of income.

I have been thinking of the photography as My Big Creative Dream. The thing that my whole life I've been hunting: my passion (anyone else seeing Steve Martin as a 'poor black kid', musing on his Special Purpose?). Why did I not have a passion? My god, I've spent my whole life looking for my damn passion only to find 101 Things I Love (But That Aren't My Passion). Where was the thing that would have me pacing the floor? Not sleeping for days as I "create"? Feeling fulfilled in a way I'd never even imagined I could be? Yeah, yeah, yeah...

And guess what, over the last few weeks of adjusting to our new life, I was beginning to think,"Hmmm, dog photography. Why haven't I knocked over old people and a couple of toddlers in my scramble to start doing this yet? Maybe it's not my passion!"

Noooooooo! I heard the click! I did! 

I put it down to adjusting. Gave myself some time. Some more time.

This last weekend I spent working on our home. Saturday morning was cleaning and tidying and fluffing the house from top to bottom. Saturday afternoon and evening were the front garden. All day Sunday was the kitchen garden. At this time of year and with no financial resources, it was all about beautifying what we already have and we suddenly have a lot.

Evie happily helped, played or read or chatted or snacked alongside me for most of both days. The animals dozed in the sun or played Cat Beats Up Dogs. The neighbours had fabulous sitar music playing all day that drifted over to caress my ears and I worked hard. I was physically exhausted and it felt fantastic. Our home looked gorgeous and that felt fantastic.

Since then I've had cause to think more on something I'd said to Jackie in our first planning meeting. I'd said, tongue in cheek, that if we had enough money to carry on as we are into the future then I wouldn't care about doing anything else. Since we've moved I have my ideal home, my ideal environment. I love my family. I love my animals. I love my life. (Yes, I'm that lucky and I never forget it.) I'm only thinking about getting out there and starting something new because we need the money.

And it's true. I realised this is true and that it changes many things. It's taken me a while to work out in what way they've changed and I'm still processing but here's what I've got:

I love photography and I adore dogs, so dog photography would be an awesome thing to do.

We need me to work. When Evie goes to school in Sept 2010, either I try to go full-time at my current employment or I get a full-time job elsewhere and spend even more time away from home.

Or I build a business between now and then. See: The 3YP

So if I have to work, let it be at this thing that I'll love.

But...

It's not my passion. It's a wonderful job but it's a job. It's a business and I need to respect that. I need to be practical and plan things and have financial targets, business goals and a grown-up attitude alongside the 'oh your dog is so handsome and I get to spend the day with you talking about dogs and taking his picture' stuff. Also, and this is very liberating for me, I can stop being precious about the idea. I can chuck it around a bit. Knock the corners off. Throw it in the back of the car. Have bad days. Swear about it. Scream with joy about it. Be real about it and not feel I have to hold it carefully cupped in my soft focus hands. I love this realisation because  at heart, as I've said before many a time, as much as I love the whole floaty-skirted, dreamy, creative vibe (and I really do), for me it's not authentic. For me authentic is jeans and boots and very old t-shirts. Eyeliner and tattoos and a surfeit of dog hair on my clothes. I'm 100 times more likely to be watching 'Desperate Romantics' on TV than being desperately romantic myself.

My passion? Well, well, well...it was in my back yard all along. In fact is is my back yard. Now that I live somewhere I really love with people I really love, I find that my passion is here with them. What I work to maintain is not my 'creative destiny' out there in the world, it's my home. I don't mean in a 50s Housewife kind of way - not that there's anything wrong with that if that's your thing - I mean in a really profound way. In caring for and working creatively with my home I am physically very active and outside a lot. Both of these things are extremely important to my well-being physically, emotionally and yes, spiritually. The results are both instant and ongoing, internally and externally. It strengthens the bond between the three of us. It connects me with the land and a building that is so old it feels that it has become part of that land - it is a real boy now! And it creates a place that is aesthetically pleasing to me and that, almost more than anything apart from my family, makes me feel alive and joyful and grateful.

 

On Wednesday I had the most stressful day I've had in years. A catalogue of bad luck, bad timing, forgetfulness and cumulative stress meant the whole gloriously sunny day was wasted on me as I lurched from one panic to another. Central to the melodrama was the loss of my purse (as in small thing that holds money and cards, not as in handbag). When at 6pm I surrendered and gave up the search - beside myself with what this was going to mean for short term financial issues - I took a  deep breath and headed to my sister's across the garden. There in front of me, sitting in full view, was my purse.

In my back yard, the last place I'd looked.

And that, is the Universe at work if ever I saw it. Okay already. I get it.

3

After the last couple of days I needed some fresh air and some time with my camera. I grabbed 40 minutes and took a stroll around the grounds [of the manor we live next to]. Just to keep me moving I went for threes, lots of threes.

These were in one of the disused barns. Probably discarded by some period drama team. Imagine Scarlett Johannson on one and Natalie Portman on the other.

Take Two

I owe you updates. I know. You don't care that I spent 13 hours gardening this weekend and that the terrace outside my kitchen now looks awesome; you want to know about twins and stuff.

The thing is, there's really not much to tell you. The girls met at our front door and the jet-lagged one in a  strange country looked a little bemused while the one who'd be bouncing around her own home in anticipation bounced some more, squealed a lot and gave big hugs. Then they ran upstairs together and that was it. See ya!

They have matching mannerisms, voices, laughs, energy levels (blimey), sense of humour, likes and dislikes.

Evie is slightly bigger than Eva - not just a smidge taller but bigger. Eva is more finely featured but the features are the same, if that makes sense. Evie is also the dominant personality. Just. We thought that might be a temporary thing but as the two weeks passed she kept the upper hand even if it didn't go unchallenged. She's also an only child whereas Eva has three older brothers and that showed up too. Evie can be a little madam sometimes while Eva has learnt that it gets you nowhere!

It was lovely to watch them play together, totally in tune with each other's imaginary worlds but also unburdened by any preconceptions about their relationship and what it should be. I mean, at 3 you have no idea about what's expected of twins: 'special' bonds, extreme empathy etc. They just got on very, very well. They were quite sensitive to each other's moods but little kids are, with their emotions close to the surface most of the time.

There were squabbles. Hooo yes. There was a knockdown, hair-pulling, fur-flying, screeching punch up in the restaurant at Avebury stone circle. Maybe that's why it was built - neolithic twins would come to sort out their differences there.

We discovered why - after much mocking of the phenomenon - parents of twins so often kit them out with matching everything. It's to avoid the constant,"But IIIIIIII want the pink one, it's not fair, that's myyyyyyy favourite...." S'easy, just get two of everything and let them got on with it.

We were lucky with our time together. We had gorgeous weather and we  got on famously and built the foundations of a true family bond between us all. For the girls of course, it's always been there on some level. As time goes on, no doubt it will get harder for them to be apart and for us to see them being apart but we feel good about the connection so far. We've webcammed since and we email regularly and there's always the good old telephone. The girls know each other. They know they have a sister and they know where she is and they know they really like each other. They know they can talk whenever they want.

The parting was harder for the mamas than it was for the girls who were just psyched up after a car ride and then running around an airport. Eva went home to her brothers and Evie came home to her cousin and gaps were filled. Evie talks about Eva, at least in passing, most days. She's also hung on to a little Australian intonation that has me whirling on the spot because she's channeling Eva.

I miss Eva's mum. She's an astounding, inspiring person, a great cook, a wonderful mother and A Right Laugh. She's Australian. 'Nuff said.

The shock of seeing them together, for the parents, wasn't there. We've done the shock and it was seismic at the time but the ground took new shape and we're settled. I'd wondered how I might feel towards Eva but as much as I love her, she's not Evie and she's not my child. They are such individuals - as are all twins - that I will never know Eva the way I know Evie. We have (almost) no history together. Our hearts and bodies don't know each other the way Evie's and mine do. But, even beyond the obvious, I'm so [insert secular term for blessed] that I know her. So happy the girls know each other. So happy that for them and their families, for now, the situation is simply 'normal' and I'm struggling to find anything blogworthy about it.

How about a photo? Me and the Coolio Sisters in the Jazz Café, Bath, July 2009.

The internet: it's a wonderful thing, Baby.

Love Thursday: chocolate milk

Last night she slept in my bed. At 2am she asked for a 'mummy cuddle'. "Mmm," she said,"Feels like chocolate milk."

An hour later she stirred and said, in a monotone, bullet point kind of way,"You're so soft. I love you more than anything in the world. I like you even when I'm grumpy." And then she was asleep again.

I am not worthy. But I'll keep trying.