Sarah*n*dipitous

Trust

You'd be amazed at what a little piece of bread can do to soothe the savage beast and establish trust. I think this statement rings more true lately than in any other time in my life.

Today's post is about goodwill offerings. I think during scary times folks tend to be more reserved. They shield their hands a bit closer, reveal less of their cards or tells at the poker table. In our industry, the culture of sharing tends to dry up a bit as everyone circles in the wagons and tries to hold onto the things they deem as advantages over the competition. The truth be told, less innovation, less development, and less creativity occur in situations such as these. The exchange of ideas and the transparency that can only come from revealing fears and challenges gets folks past those issues and on to being more productive. This can only happen if there is an established trust first though. There needs to be an element of discernment in choosing whom you will confide in and your focus group and confidants need to understand that there is a level of accountability to be expected.

Today I was sitting with the kids having a picnic and reading the adventures of Captain Nemo when a squirrel appeared within a stone's throw of us. Breaking off a piece of muffin I explained to the kids that I could get that squirrel close enough to see it's teeth. Of course they were enthralled, well at least the boys, the female child always seems to be a more practical and immediately mentioned rabies. As we continued to throw muffin pieces closer and closer to us, the squirrel progressed. We watched it try to discern whether or not the danger was worth the muffin. Once it was within 3 feet of us, we saw it's teeth and it sat next to us for the better part of 15 minutes. During that time, the kids had the closest view of a squirrel they had ever had- the most real and first hand look at something that they had only seen in books or from a distance up until this point. It was such an amazing learning experience that was facilitated by a goodwill offering and a mutual trust. I am thankful for the Bread that established that trust and taught me so much. Just a thought.

Footwear

I learn so much from my kids. My daughter came bounding the stairs and struck a super hero pumped fisted pose and the base of the stairs. I wasn't privy to the conversation going on in her head at the moment but, her body language spoke of a dangerous foe needing to be vanquished  somewhere in the living room and that somehow she was in between me, the innocent civilian, and mortal danger. I think it reality, the cat was the foe and had it realized this, it would have run and hid sooner than it did.

I asked my daughter where her cape was. She said she didn't need one because she was wearing her super hero socks and as long as her feet were covered that they would take her where she needed to go. Huh? Such complex truths from the mouths of babes. If the world truly understood the very basic truth in that statement, what an incredibly different place we would live in. Our feet, the very things that guide our steps need to be decked out in the kind of footwear that embody the characteristics we want in life I think. Can you imagine if you woke up and thought, yup, I am going to be someone's hero today... gotta make sure I am wearing the appropriate footwear so I don't take a misguided step? I think about all the times I am ill-prepared to help someone in need simply because I didn't have them in mind when I began my day. My daughter thought about it when she got dressed and well, she was my hero...saved me from conventional thinking and accepted social norms. She inspired me to be a better person.

Rust

DaVinci said stagnant water petrifies and iron rusts from not being used... Think about that for a minute. The absolute degradation of something pure and strong from simply not being used and sitting unmoving. Makes one think about complacency in a whole different way.

I saw these posts laying down in a heap. At one time they cost money, took time to install, and had function somewhere. While they were standing, they didn't exhibit the kind of deterioration that they did when they laid together in the heap. I started thinking about that. It wasn't until they were piled together with other non-useful posts that the oxidation process was compounded and sped up. Fascinating. It made me think about the published studies about how unhealthy behaviors travel in social circles, how they appear to almost be contagious in nature. Could DaVinci indeed have stumbled on something more pivotal that merely a scientific observation of the natural world but rather, an axiom that was completely human nature when left to our devises?

In studying the characteristics of successful people and influential thinkers it is interesting that they chose to surround themselves with folks that challenge conventional thinking and spur them on to get outside of comfort zones and take their personal understanding to a higher level. Athletes who want to run faster or jump higher train with people who are faster than they are why, because they want to push themselves. It is a conscious decision, an action and a commitment to motion, doing something to get there... meaning they are not stagnant and allowing themselves to decay from disuse. They chose to be functional and refuse to be surrounded with toxic influences that are going nowhere.

Rows and Columns

Bet you thought this was going to be another mind the spreadsheet post... seeing that I am making this up as I go along, it could very well have a bit of that hidden in here for good measure. Today I was thinking about housekeeping of all things. The order of things and how truly, organization can be a wonderful thing when you want to find something but, irritating when you want to be inspired by something around you, in front of you and everything is all tucked away hidden in it's rightful out of sight spot... Thankfully, I do not come across this problem too much as my studio is a complete pit. Seriously, I require folks to tie a rope around their waist and the other end to the door knob just to insure their safe return from my studio ;)

One of the places I do not dilly dally when it comes to everything having it's place is in our family garden. There must be some resemblance of order and what's more, plants will die if not put in the proper location optimal for their growth. Columns and rows and being surrounded by the right companions can make a garden thrive and produce.

So, where am I leading you on this happy bunny trail. Every person needs a place where there is some balance and order. I say this because all can not be chaotic and still be inspiring at the same time. Our heads need a place to reflect and have harmony in order to isolate a thought or an idea from the rest of the background noise. It's like the columns and rows in the garden. Each plant has it's proper spacing, a buffer zone if you will and a soil composition that gives it what it needs to not just survive but, thrive. Cultivate a spot where you can breath and your creativity will grow.

Blooming

Everything has a not so pretty phase in their life cycle I think. I can remember those red frames I was stuck wearing in middle school and how well, ugly duckling just seemed oh so very appropriate. It's those awkward in between stages, like a hair cut that one is trying to grow out gracefully and tends to wear baseball caps, headbands and barrettes in the interim to get through those wonky periods that seem tough at the time but truly, are relatively short when put in perspective. The difference between an awesome haircut and a bad haircut is always only a few weeks and a good stylist away.

I was thinking about how artists and creatives in general go through stages where they are trying to find their own groove, their identity, their style, and signature. How like musicians for example spend those years honing their skills and searching for that sound that is uniquely theirs... something recognizable in the public square. It truly isn't as easy as some may think. Finding your "voice" whether it is in painting, music, writing, dance or some other creative outlet can be a weird time period for folks. People tend to ask a lot of questions, questions that tend to be answered with tougher questions in fewer words... things like, "What do You Want?"

It is in defining moments that people tend to bloom and many times, it is the first good look the outside world gets at the amazing blossoms they were created to be. In our front yard, the driveway is lines with Black Locust trees. These trees aren't particularly things of beauty (unless encased in ice during the winter... they can look really pretty when the light shines on them...) during most of the year. Their leaves are annoying and don't rake easily yet, their blooms are intoxicating and stunning. Unbeknownst to bystanders, they prepare for this showing the whole year, fine tuning and growing in their awkward stages just for the moment that they too get to shine. Embrace those awkward growing moments, they are blooming opportunities in the making.

Pieces

It can sometimes be difficult when our days come in little pieces without a full picture of what that day meant or what was accomplished. I know that oftentimes, I will work on a huge project and feel as if I am getting absolutely nowhere until one morning everything comes together and for the first time, not only can I see light at the end of the proverbial tunnel but, I can feel as if something was actually done and checked off my list. I remembered once looking at the Sistine Chapel and thinking how miserable it would be to have to show up everyday, laying on that scaffolding on your back and paint section by section with no end in sight. I mean seriously, your view would be of only that section and from such a close range, the big picture simply could not be seen in it's entirety. I suppose it takes a certain kind of faith to work on something of that magnitude and deep seeded belief that it was profoundly worth it.

So where am I going with this bits and pieces thought today? I was watching my Husband get ready for work and it dawned on me that really, he wears the same thing everyday and that it's basically the color of tie that changes. His days are measured by a swatch of colored fabric around his neck. The numbers are the same, the tasks are the same, the scenery is the same, and, as an accountant, his job really is the poster child for routine. For the record, that would drive me completely bonkers! As it happened he was coming to the month end close and it was then when it hit me, every vocation may seem to be comprised of mundane little colored pieces but, when added to together and carefully laid, it becomes a mosaic of our lives and part of a bigger masterpiece. It isn't created in a day, and, it takes a certain amount of faith to believe that in the end those pieces are not only going to reveal a fantastic picture of a life well spent but, will fit into the composition of history overall. The point is, you have to get up, get ready for work, do your job and know that the peace at the end of the day is a piece of a picture beyond your imagination. 

Strawberry Fairy

Strawberry picking opening day at our local berry farm is a tradition in our household. The day itself is marked with things that "just have to happen". Our day starts at 5:30 AM by hitting the alarm at least three times until we are officially in a rush to get there at 6:00AM. You see, the Farm opens at 7AM and if you get there at that time, you are too late not only to find a parking spot but to have a seat on the tractor that carries you out to the berry patch as well. Opening day is fun for our "seasoned 5,7, and 8 year old experts." They love to sit next to the mixed company on the tractor singing songs and filling folks in on how to find the very best berry in and amongst others that may not meet the cut. In our house, we look for "Bad Guy Red" not "Good Girl Pink". Eating a few to "test" them is acceptable just as long as there isn't too much dirt on them and that for every one you eat a handful go into the bin. After the bins are full, we go out to breakfast and celebrate a job well done and plot our "Strawberry Fairy" delivery route. The best part of Strawberry picking day is sharing the bounty with people we love and care about. We drop off a few quarts to friends, and then visit the grandparents and great-grandparents with special top secret deliveries. This year, when the kids arrived at their grandparents house, shortcake and whip cream was waiting to receive fresh berries. The kids learned that in giving freely of your time, hard work, and rewards, there is always an unexpected sweet gift 

If

My favorite Father's Day Poem

Stairways

Doorways and Stairways are both things I just feel a gravitational pull towards. The analogies and parallels they represent are just so profound in so many ways. I think to many, the image of a stairway automatically implies an upward movement, reaching and striving higher and getting up to the top of whatever it is we must climb to achieve. I however, see them in a different way I suppose. I think that they represent mobility yes, but more like a constant up and down rather than in just one direction. 

Let me explain. I know this sounds dangerously close to pessimistic or morose in nature and counter-intuitive to my normal message. This being said, if we were always moving upward, where would the challenge be? Think about it, what happens when you get to the top? Are there new stairs to climb or do we stay at that point just content? And, what happens when we miss a stair in our hurried rush and fall completely on our face or worse yet, tumble all the way back to the bottom in a bruised and broken heap on that very first step? I would like to believe that there was more of a lesson in the tumbling down than reaching the top unscathed, that that final victory and achievement would mean more and have more substance behind it having to had to really work for it. I would also like to believe that our muscles and our heart (from the cardio workout climbing up and down those stairs) would be healthier for the wear as opposed to the one time up. I suppose too, having conditioned our bodies and such up that first flight we would indeed be ready and able in the event that there is another flight waiting for us right around the corner out of sight as well. Business never is a smooth flight upwards, there are always set-backs and opportunities to test our endurance. It's our job to see them as such and to keep the stairs in perspective.

Carefree

Creativity comes from remembering what it is like to be a kid. I think the perspective from a swing in the air is something that every person should try to do at least every once in a while. If you really want to make your day complete, make sure you have little ones next to you who want to get as high as you do and who giggle and laugh as they believe they are sprouting wings and will eventually swing around the bar because they got "that" high.

You can learn a lot about yourself when you think about what it is to enjoy play and are relieved of the stresses of the day. That carefree feeling is the most liberating thing you can imagine. For a brief moment you believe in the impossible. Your feet leave the ground and with your head facing upward towards the skies, you stretch to see if you can walk among the clouds.

The danger many creatives in general face, is that moment when your passion becomes a job and that carefree and organic process of creating is sapped away by the pressures of the world here where your feet are forced to stay on the ground. 

Freaks

I am a complete geek when it comes to random signs and bumper stickers. I make it a point to take a picture whenever I should happen upon something remotely intriguing and catalog it away until a life lesson of somesort emerges from it.

The other day, I was out and about and this small magnet caught my attention. I stiffled a giggle as the gentleman next to me did the same "fake cough/snort-I wasn't-laughing-because-that-is-so-not-funny-but-it-really-is" laugh. You'd have to know too that this was located across the street from a local teenage Goth hangout where on any given day you could sit and people watch and truly never be disappointed or bored. The tattoo art alone is worth the price of admission. At any rate, after the uncomfortable awkward silence passed, the gentleman mentioned that he was here spying on his 15 year old daughter and was trying to find out who this mystery guy was that was eating up all their cell phone minutes and text message allotments. He showed me this picture of a toothy little girl and then pointed out the pink mohawk sporting loverlie across the street wearing some black lacy number with striped socks I secretly lusted after paired with futuristic platform boots. He had a sadness in his eyes as he explained that he felt he was losing his daughter, his little girl to "freaks" who could never love and appreciate her the way he felt she needed to be treated.

It was then when the lesson emerged. His daughter walked in the front door, only after the young kid she was with opened the door for her and made sure the train behind her dress cleared the threshold. Before they realized that her Father was sitting at the table next to the window, he pulled out his wallet and said, "it's my job, I am paying, get what you want." I smiled. Clearly her Father's jaw was on the floor. After they received their order, they were looking for a place to sit and he pulled the chair out for her and that's when she noticed her Dad. That moment of pure panic crossed her face. Immediately, the young man, piercings and all, stood up and extended his hand and said, "pleasure to meet you Sir...." 

Of course I found this fascinating. I thought to myself, yup, this world is a circus, the biggest big top imaginable and if we were only so fortunate to have it populated with more "freaks" such as this young kid. Inspiration comes in many forms and ultimately it's the things that make us want to be better people that stick with us. When I think about the things I do during the day, I have to ask myself, am I acting in such a way that inspires and encourages even when I think nobody is watching? Am I being a freak that stands out in a crowd and makes folks want to pay attention?

Finding Beauty

Sometimes our lives seem pretty arid- the Muse is just sucked dry like a baked hard dirt road. I suppose it is hard to not think about the hard road you've been walking on when your feet remind you of it with every step you take. I was recently chit chatting with a friend of mine about the world in general and what struck me was how worries, fears, hardship, and general "tiredness"  kept entering into our conversation. Going on a rabbit trail here but follow me...

When one is pregnant, from the moment you find out, everything in the world changes. All of the sudden baby clothes, other pregnant Moms, strollers with babies in them, cries in public places all seem to just pop out of the day to day white noise. You notice everything there is that is even remotely connected to birth- almost a hyper-awareness for lack of a better term. You are in tuned, on that frequency and picking up that signal.

In life, the things that are happening in our head basically choose the channel we will dial into during our day whether we mean to or not. The Muse, has no choice but to listen in and reflect on those things. So my question is, what happens when you choose to concentrate on the things that inspire and feed the Muse rather than those that sap it? You end up like the pregnant lady, seeing things everywhere, picking them out of the crowd, in random places, and in unexpected ways. Finding Beauty starts by making the choice to seek it out in the first place.

Soliloquy

There is something interesting about quiet places... you are forced to listen to the things in your head and reflect on why the heck they are there in the first place. Quite honestly, I believe many of us, me included, tend to keep busy just so we do not have much time to listen to the peanut gallery in the ole' noggin' carrying on. However, we need to have moments to sift through and process what we have seen and experienced in order to reflect it in our work (as artists) as well.

One of the interesting things I have discovered recently is the fact that alone does not mean lonliness and solitude can happen just as easily in a crowded mall as it can in a rustic cabin. The other thing is that silence doesn't shut off the noise in your head and, sometimes saying things out loud instead of just thinking them breathes life into those words in a profound way.

Today I thought about Soliloquy. Besides being a wonderful word that just rolls off your tongue and implies something amazing in it's pronunciation, it is the heart of the quiet place. You see, Soliloquy is not a monologue, those can be heard by other people and tends to be a person on a stage. No, a soliloquy is the talking out loud to oneself, without an audience and for the benefit of giving the thoughts in your head power by speaking life into them. The canvases we paint, the songs that we write, the poems that we pen, the things that we make all have those thoughts, those words, those feelings woven into them one way or another. Without them, the piece, our creation, is void of connection and lacking the stuff that life is made of. I encourage everyone to find a quiet place, you'll be amazed at what you'll discover there.

Red

There is something to be said about a person who wears red shoes. It takes a certain Moxie to pull off a smokin' set of red pumps and do it well. You see, red shoes aren't merely an accessory, they are a statement. They say, look at me, see my passion, my zest for life, and my no nonsense approach to soaking in the good stuff and living life to the fullest. They say, I intend on enjoying everything this world has to offer coupled with an unwritten promise to give everything they have within them back in return to the world. (thinking of my friend Crafty Chica- one of the most vibrant and special folks in my world)

I can't help but take pictures of red things when I am out and about. Barns, cars, fire hydrants, stop signs, and other completely random things. I think secretly, I am still looking for the perfect shade, the one with just enough quinacrodone burnt orange in it to set off the piece of blue glass I found on the beach, but, I digress. Red has this ability to spark an emotional response unlike any other color and is associated with the spectrum of feelings from angry to lustful to powerful. Today, I was admiring the green that seemed to appear overnight when this random red caught my eye. I started thinking about many things but mostly about standing out tastefully. Some folks draw attention to themselves in garish ways intended to shock (thinking many bands in the 80's with the hair and make-up that we can't quite remember much about other than the blue eye-shadow) but others, they do it subtly... a yellow dress and a pair of the perfect pair of red shoes. That is timeless, that is classic. My grandmother, the personification of elegance would wear simple clothing that reflected her stature yet, always combined them with something of sass as a subtle hint that there was more to her than she'd ever let you know about. I just love the color red.

Spit

I admire the curiosity of a 7 year old. While walking, my son, after thinking obviously for sometime about this, asked, "who keeps spitting everywhere and how did they do it without their mouths getting dry?" Now, my first thought was, hmmmm, how many times did you try to spit Love and why? That's when he pointed out the little mounds of "spit" around the bases of numerous plants in the field. After I stopped laughing, I told him about the little bug that calls that spit it's home and that it was a way for it to stay safe and hidden. He marinated on that for a bit as we continued to walk. And then, with the wisdom much beyond his years, he said, "Well, I guess that's why _______ spits at me. He just needs to feel safe."

My jaw hit the ground and then a profound sense of humility washed over me as I thought about all the folks I "spit on" throughout the day in one form or another and the reasoning behind it. It's these little things, these little nuggets that inspire me, I hope they do you as well.

Perception

Heliotrope's are amazing, I can totally understand why the butterflies frolic and dance around them. Their fragrance is haunting. Well, at least to me I suppose. It's a matter of perception. Wait for it, I know you can hear that there is a wonky story coming. I went to the local plant nursery with my children. We have been working on identifying plants based on their leaves and fragrances. Every year the kids grow their own garden and the random things they choose to grow reflect personal tastes inasmuch as anything else. Where else can carrots and watermelon share a plot with lavender and swiss chard because the color "ROCKED"? So, I asked the kids to close their eyes because I wanted them to smell the most intoxicating smell in my world. They closed their eyes and inhaled. Within seconds my son says, "Mom found the plant that makes Playdoh." Huh? Now, I must say, I have a hard time smelling my heliotropes without envisioning a yellow canister full of neon clay. Perception.

The interesting thing about people is the fact that we all see, smell, hear, touch, and taste things through different filters. One thing may mean one thing to you but, will be perceived by someone else as something completely differently. What an amazing and crazy place the world is for those wanting to see things from the many wondrous facets it presents.

Tangled Knot

John Donne said that no man is an island. It is true. No matter how one removes themselves from the world, there will always be someone that will say or do something that will turn your world upside down. Awhile back, I secretly had the kids leave some eggs for a neighbor and lo and behold, a plate of cookies magically appeared in our mailbox the next day. At that moment, her life and the lives of our children became entwined, fashioned into a knot that will someday very well be the knot in the rope that anchors them when life gets tough. One can never know about these things. Our lives are made up of all sorts of random opportunities to tie ourselves to one another. Unbeknownst to us, all those random knots become the safety net for humanity.

When one choses to create for a living, many factors come into play but, at it's basic level, you make something and someone buys it- an exchange occurs. The interesting thing is how that thing is received and how it affects others during it's existence. I think of music. How a piece of music can invoke tears and empathy. The piece could have been written to pay the light bill but, somewhere down the road, it could be what was playing in the background the day you said yes (Proposal), goodbye (Funeral), or hello (Birth). I guess the thought for today is, while you are in your studio or out and about, remember to tie good secure knots, you never know in what random ways you'll be connected to someone. 

Color Impossible

Dragonflies amaze me... The other day, I was fortunate enough to see an amazing specimen sitting on the Dogwood tree in our front yard. I was captivated by the intense color hidden in it's wings and body. The way the light hit it made it seem to glow. The interesting thing is that with all my cool gadgets and applications that isolate color on my iPhone and Mac, I could not match that color. It was always a bit off. I had mentioned to some 2D friends about the fact that a quest to look for it would be a worthy pursuit even though the liklihood of achievement would be a slim one. The point is, we all need those impossible quests I think. I had dinner this evening with an amazing visionary. He talked about how people need something impossible simply to prove that they can do it. They need the distinct opportunity to fail, and fail many times over to learn about who they are, what they are are made of, and why they do what it is they do. 

Incidentally, dragonflies aren't supposed to be able to do the things they do. They defy evolution and physics every time they spread their wings and fly. Just a thought.

Rock and a Hard Place

It is interesting to think about the fact that you can have two exact rocks of the same size and composition yet, when they are smashed together, one will naturally break while the other stays whole. I suppose if one was to really look at it, we would never know about the weak spots or hidden fissures until the two actually collided and were put in the situation to begin with. It's a matter of time and pressure really, eventually we all break. What I find even more thought provoking is the fact that the world needs all sizes of rocks to function. If one was to look on a rock wall built in Roman times, those rocks were not uniform in size, the smaller ones were used to fill in and serve as a foundation for the larger ones. Both needed to exist in order for it to be a stable structure.

Today I learned a valuable lesson. There will always be larger and smaller rocks than you in this world. Some days you are the one doing the breaking and others, you are the one being broken. The point is, you are all a part of the wall, fused together and those refining moments have to happen if you are going to be used. Although the process itself can be intimidating, imagine if that wall saved someone somewhere down the line, would that not be a worthy cause?

Love Notes

One of my deepest longings is to have my house always be a place where the doors are open, the garden always welcoming, and the conversation that of substance (be it total laughter, deep and profound, or simply random) My highschool years were some of the best times of my life... around campfires with guitars, camping, rockclimbing, goofing off, and the amazing lifechanging conversations with folks that I can call up on the phone 20 years later because they "know" me and all the wonkiness that entails... they know where the proverbial bodies are buried and don't care.

Well, some of the most amazing folks in my world now are the ones who remind me of those carefree days, the complexities, the days where the impossible was talked about all the time and nothing seemed too far fetched. These little love notes were left by the people I know are going to do amazing things in the future. To some it seems like vandalism but truly, it isn't. It will all wash away with the next rain but, it's the marks that they made on my heart that make me smile. If you really want to be inspired, invest in youth. Spend your time giving that which you have learned and I mean this with every ounce of my being, you will be rewarded in incredible and profound ways. And guys, Beware the Shadow Ninja... hear she has a throwing star ;)

Wings

My kids are notorious vanquishers of all things winged. They don't mean to be, they just don't understand that things of beauty are fragile and need care. That there are some things in this world that aren't meant to be held and in doing so, it could very well destroy them.

I liken this to an idea, a piece of artwork, a written prose, a piece of music stuck in our heads that we try so hard to capture that we just lose it. It becomes overworked and loses the carefree and organic way it came together in the first place- just like the delicate powder that colors the wings of a moth or butterfly. There is a delicate balance between be inspired and being trapped. I think human nature is that when we see something so beautiful we want to keep it, put our stamp on it, that we forget that even the things we create were meant to be shared and given away in the first place.

Deadly

Nightshade has a fantastic sordid past and reputation. Truthfully I have to wonder about all the folks who lost their lives in the name of Botany and the quest to find edible or medicinal plants. Thankfully I have a Nature geeks for parents who spent the time to point out the trappings in our yard. Poison Ivy, Poison Sumac, Deadly Nightshade all ended up being more the likes of dreaded cartoon character names but the actual plants were just accepted and avoided. The interesting thing and the point of this post is the fact that I was fortunate enough to have people in my world who wanted me to be safe and took the time to shine a light on the dangers that lurk in plain sight.

As a creative, we sometimes forget about the dangers lurking in plain view and because most of our work is done in solitude having someone around to point those things out doesn't always happen. One of the most valuable things in my world is the group of folks who have mentored me and helped me navigate not only the wonkiness of a gel medium that refuses to dry because of something I did to it but, how to negotiate a contract, what prices are fair, and moral support when something goes terribly wrong.

By the way, this is nightshade, keep it away from kids, pets and folks you care about. no, it doesn't make your eyes brighter as those in Italy so long ago once believed.

Wild Perennial

There is something to be said about wildflowers. They grow and flourish where they are planted. Today I was trying to explain to my children the difference between an annual and a perennial. In true kid fashion, the man child frankly stated that annuals were a "big 'ole waste." I think he was reflecting more on the fact that we have a vegetable garden and it's a lot of hard work to upkeep and from a purely selfish perspective, a plant you only have to plant once and that comes back year after year is definitely a better prospect. In our front yard are Irises that grow wild. We have no idea where they came from but, they continue to spread each year and they make me smile. That is Ellen's garden (named after my grandmother who taught me everything I know about art), a place where there are no "weeds, just misplaced plants...." Lilly of the Valley, Daffodils, Pansies and Crocuses all call that plot of land their home as well. I have seen these plants be completely wiped out by a late in the season snow or ice storm, that brush fire that got away from us, and even a flood situation that should have drowned them yet, they come back. Their tenacity is something I admire and strive to be more like in my own world. They do not complain about their circumstances, don't make excuses when they get covered in frost, they don't just wither away and die, no, they have almost a stubbornness to them that tells the world that they are tougher that the identification book said they would be.

Annuals are important, they serve an immediate need but, as a creative trying to earn a living through the things they make, think like a wildflower. Create deep roots and bloom in adversity. Use the surroundings and conditions you were dealt as an opportunity to flourish and above all stand tall. Think about this, where is a bloom more noticed, there among a bed of cultivated and meticulously arranged flowers or in a random unexpected place? Just a thought.

Makers

Makers are the folks that create something from nothing. They dream of the impossible and think of ways to defy conventional thinking to make it a reality.These are the anti-cookie cutter people that make this world a more interesting place. As I sit here and reflect on all that I learned and saw over these past few days, there are a few things that truly are profound and leave a lump in my throat to think about. The first is that, people chose to take their kids and folks hands down, went out of their way to accommodate, engage, and inspire the curious and absorbent mind of the children at Maker Faire. Many trade shows and conventions ask that children not attend because they are a inconvenience and have a way of slowing things down and getting in the way. Makers understand that it is investment in the children that create a better future. Makers are about sharing what is in their head with the people who want to know it and, it seems more often than not, true makers are people who have an amazing story to tell about how and why they made what they did... children love a good story. Secondly, every person I met and had the honor to speak to, never lost that sense of child-like wonder. It is something truly amazing to be in the company of folks who never stop asking questions, who's insatiable curiosity is contagious and the natural questions that occur in just exploring and observing the everyday come out from every pore of their beings. That proverbial "What If?" is on the tips of every tongue and the fantastic and imaginary are sitting there in front of you (A fire breathing Snail Car comes to mind). Maker Faire is about equipping people not only to think about the impossible but giving them the sandbox to keep failing until the impossible is a possibility and from there a reality.