Endless Construction

Approximately four years ago I would drive across this bridge and wonder when it would ever NOT be under construction. Somehow I have ended up back in this town, driving many of my old routes and I get to ask the same question. What is wrong with this bridge anyway? I have never seen a construction vehicle or worker attending to anything here. It always makes me feel sad and empty for some reason - like really and truly nobody cares for this thing. So I'm featuring it here and giving it a moment of attention, because in just the right light and with the cooperation of well-placed clouds, it almost looks like this road leads somewhere interesting.

Secret Code

I love being back in an urban setting and have discovered a very new fresh feeling. (Quite the opposite of that "not-so-fresh feeling"... call it the "City Douche Effect" maybe.) In the same way that I felt intrigue and excitement about the wild, rugged, organic Vermont lifestyle when we first moved there, a similar thing is happening here. I'm expanding. Or I've grown up. I have a much clearer sense of who I am and where my place is in this insane world, and a lot of that has to do with surrounding myself with the unknown and being able to feel like I'm hiding in my community, even if I occasionally run into people I know when I'm getting groceries.

Graffiti makes me feel comfy. Dumpsters are intriguing. Traffic and sirens remind me that there are tragedies and realities that continue to plague people, even if my life seems to be running smoothly. While I sit here typing on my couch I can hear the excited, jazzed-up college marching band version of "Call Me Al" echoing from the Brown football stadium... occasional cheers erupt. Then some crickets chirping. Then more drums and horns. Somehow I find it pleasant to feel a crowd nearby.

Sure, there's a ton of the ugly shit too... those crowded strip malls and office plazas. The hideously boring Targets, WalMarts, BedBathBeyond-villes. The crazy masses of overweight Americans mindlessly stuffing their lives with more and more unhealthy shit... and more shit... and more stuff... and more stuff-on-shits. It's the American REALITY that I have chosen to confront everyday, rather than escape. And on days that I'm out walking the street signs are winking at me and they whisper rather convincingly:

"Andre the Giant Has a Posse!"

For real. And if you're lost and totally not with me on this one... DO YOUR RESEARCH.

viewfinder

We took a leisurely neighborhood stroll today - Penny on her Skuut, and me in my wildly uncomfortable new shoes. I decided to ditch looking through my camera viewfinder because the more I think about what I'm trying to capture exactly, the lamer my photos seem to become. And what a great metaphor for my life right now. The harder I try to frame some aspect of my life's direction, the less attainable it gets.

Recently I have given up a whole bucketload of material desires - mainly a giant house with 4 bathrooms and 10 acres of land - for a pared down rental with one bathroom to split between our family of 5. This process of moving for the 4th time in 7 years has aged me exponentially, but it has given me more wisdom than ever on the impermanence of everything. I have had to abandon a lot of those visions of what I hoped my life would look like as a middle aged woman... seriously. The dream did NOT resemble this! Thankfully I have been given an extraordinary education, a generous extended family and healthy children. I can generate and appreciate new perspectives on just about anyone and anything these days, which gives me the little crumbs of energy I need to make it to bedtime.

(Yes, I said crumbs.)

too much to say. too little time.

Where does the time go? I have been a bit obsessed with this notion of time warping recently. Two weekends ago seemed like the longest 3 day vacation I can remember. Last weekend seemed like a blink.

And I can't even recall what happened yesterday.

Hormones? Amnesia? Alzheimer's? Technology? I'd love an explanation or something to point a finger at, but the best I can come up with has more to do with the natural aging process. My little twins are now riding bicycles. They have to study for spelling quizzes. They throw around sarcastic comments about their parents. And my baby is 4. She thinks she is a professional dancer and can shimmy like J Lo. I have absolutely NOTHING to do with it.

So I observe my girls a lot more carefully these days and finally understand those parents who seemed over the top with their emotional sensitivity to their kids... (Believe me. I spent a lot of time making fun of them. I just never got it until now.) Childhood innocence has the slowest, yummiest perception of time. And just to make more sense of the photo, I remember my friends telling me they had never eaten homemade beets. How about growing your own, harvesting them with your kids and cooking them? It's all completely possible AND you might even have fun in the process. Contrary to popular belief, it doesn't actually take that long, unless you think the earth isn't moving at the right pace anymore (which could also be possible... but that's another post for another day).

PRESENCE. PERSPECTIVE. PERCEPTION.

That Certain Something...

I wish I had a great explanation for this new urge to blog. But I'm back... I think.

Mint and Boxed

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Originally uploaded by mollieholliday

The image on the postcard for my show (this Friday, 6-8 pm at Two Rivers Printmaking Studio... WRJ) came out like crap and looks muddy and dark. Maybe this displays better on the computer screen?

15" x 16"
collograph (made with cardboard box tops)

Seeds Were Sewn

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Originally uploaded by mollieholliday

I hate to use the expression "an Ah-ha Moment"... or "revelation"... but when I made this tiny little etching I'm pretty sure my eyes got wide and my brain was spinning circles. I knew for once where I was headed with my work and it felt like electricity. I swear.

This isn't to say I'm NOT struggling with creative direction now... but at least I feel like I have an image to refer to when I'm feeling lost.

Biking Gear...

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Originally uploaded by mollieholliday

Cycling outfits make me die of laughter. But somehow this one sent from Myles' uncle all the way from Wyoming seems acceptable. Maybe?

Actually I take that back.

A Swim...

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Originally uploaded by mollieholliday

The best Frog and Toad story ever. And they can both read it independently.

Insanity.

No Excuses...

So I haven't posted Christmas... No New Year's... No 34th birthday, no Valentines or twins turning 6. It's pretty lame. At least I can say I've been accepted into grad school.

From this point on I plan to blog about my artwork, assuming I can get my portfolio uploaded on a regular basis. I know some loyal far-away Miss Nelson readers might be sad, but 6 months without a post probably has most of you emailing me for life updates anyway. We'll see. Maybe I'll make two blogs. (Doubtful.)

Big LOVE everybody... xoxoxoxoox

Pre-candy...

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Originally uploaded by mollieholliday

They looked pretty great, until the rain came. We survived! Next year I have to put myself in a costume too.

Very tough to convince Penny not to eat every piece of candy each time she added it to her bag. However, when I told her that the whole point of Halloween was to "collect the candy, not eat it right away", she replied with a big "Oh! O-tay!" - as if we should have told her beforehand.

Later when we were all sitting at home scouring over the candy supply, Eloise says, "Hear that. More rain."

Penny shrugs her shoulders and says, "Aw. Bummer."

Ruby asks, "Um Penny, did you just say bummer?"

She responds, "Yeah. Bummer."

Fits of hysterics.

Like Father Like Daughter...

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Originally uploaded by mollieholliday

This seems to be the norm around here. I'm really ready for a new month and a different rotation for Myles.

Getting Excited...

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Originally uploaded by mollieholliday

These girls are just ridiculous... in anticipation of Halloween madness, they have tried on lots of costumes and finally decided. Ruby will be a witch (with lots of makeup, hairspray and "bloody glow-in-the-dark teeth if you can find them at the iParty store Mommy"), Eloise will be a Midnight Fairy (not a very nice fairy I'm told... also in need of lots of glitter and colored hairspray) and Penny will be their pet spider (or as she pronounces it: 'pider).

The face painting shots here demonstrate their affection for the arts - which I might add, they have a knack for. I am so very very afraid to see what they choose for costumes when 2017 rolls around.

However, they are welcome to wear whatever they please at the Eclectic Halloween party in 2022. (That's a nice Wesleyan reference people... sorry.)

Can't wait to show photos from tomorrow, provided that we don't have to wear snow pants underneath everything.

final product

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Originally uploaded by mollieholliday

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Originally uploaded by mollieholliday

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Originally uploaded by mollieholliday

Miss Nelson Returns

I mentioned that one day I would emerge from the dark fog of my head and post something uplifting - something different. Then I got terrified that perhaps I was the kind of person who lives their life in a permanent state of moderate dissatisfaction. The professionals might refer to me as "depressed". I thought, "Ugh. I'm that complete bore who complains about shit endlessly and never digs herself out of her own misery."

Well, it's taken me a couple of weeks to work with these thoughts and I have successfully shoveled away a fair amount of crap in my head. This is all due to the fact that my children are all in school and there are moments where I can think. Just plain think about what is next, where I want to head, what fulfills me... it's allowed me to be relatively happy for a change. Two couples therapy sessions shed some optimistic light into my world. And I started going to the print shop more... took some refresher courses and am now hooked into the world of etching. There's nothing like working with hazardous chemicals while making art - I swear it's a sick rush. I mean, acid eating metal? Wearing a dust mask? Bottles of varnish and ink with skulls and poison symbols on them? Total adoration. (We are all trying very hard to print our works in the least toxic ways... I swear.)

During my hours in the studio, Penny is either at her new daycare or at a little morning "preschool". The separations have been really really rough for her. She's a totally attached munchkin and has spent most of her waking hours with me exclusively. The guilt of leaving her to indulge myself in my "potential career" is painful. Dropping Penny off with someone else to care for her while I go make art (without a salary to speak of) makes me feel like I'm headed to the local salon for a pedicure while my child suffers with a stranger. In this emotional process however, I can see just how ridiculously important it is to love what you do for a living. That's the message I am choosing to send my girls as they grow up - and I'm sure I'm going to hear it from them when they are 18 (and 30) and remind me of all that I didn't do to enrich their lives - choose what makes you happy. Simple shit.

Aw, this isn't to say I hit the easy road and my life is smooth from this point on. Myles and I continue to struggle. I feel like I work overtime trying to fix "us" - yet I'm finally done with attempting to fix him! (As far as I'm concerned he needs to take responsibility for his own adult garbage. He seems permanently dissatisfied with lots of things, but I'm going to try to ignore that for a little while longer. And if it persists beyond his residency, then I will re-assess.)

Phew. I must say it's great to write shit down again. Good to be back...

On a funny note - a few weeks ago I was telling Ruby that it wasn't a great idea to put her hands down her pants... and she replied, "Why not? Daddy puts his hands down his pants all the time."

(Dying laughing.)

Two down, one to go...

About 5 years ago I remember taking the very young, very scheduled and very stroller-bound Ruby and Eloise on a walk up Church Street in Burlington. I was attempting to purchase something at a store called Scribbles, when the mom behind me in line said, "I just dropped my twin girls off at Kindergarten," in a very disconnected, deadpan kind of way. Immediately I wanted to bother her with all kinds of questions, as I felt I was living in some kind of existential hell with two babies... but instead I replied, "Oh wow! That must be quite a milestone!" She said yes, and we kind of awkwardly parted ways. For whatever reason, that meeting stuck in my head for all these years - as many parents remind me time and again that your children aren't young forever and your time with them is fleeting. Honestly, that's the only stuff that gets me through the variety of struggles and worries on a day to day basis. Sure, it's hard to cherish moments... believe me... but when my nervous girls walked up to the school yard this morning, begging me not to leave their side, I was shocked at how badly I wanted them to leap right in with their friends and head off to the classroom!

But when their teacher gathered all the kids together in a single file line and whispered something magical to them, El and Ru both turned to us and shouted, "Bye Mommy and Daddy!!!! See ya later!"

My heart moved into my throat, and my eyes watered over a bit.

Today is the beginning of something very new for me... for all of us. If anything, I'm feeling confused about what lies on the horizon. I promise to keep everyone posted. Penny starts at a new school next week!

It's About Time...

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Originally uploaded by mollieholliday

My munchkins with me at sunset on Steps Beach, back in July. This photo feels like it was ages ago when the summer was new... when we had to wear sweatshirts.

Now we are melting. Sweating. Arguing. Complaining. Searching out swimming opportunities and preparing for Kindergarten on August 26th.

The summer months are too fast for me - perhaps the only people who savor the time are the kids, who can barely wait 5 minutes for me to fry an egg.

-'cation

My month away in Nantucket was a treat-and-a-half. But not totally devoid of frustration, lack of sleep, high-maintenance child-wrangling, bugbites, unwanted sunblock applications, and girl drama... you could call it a "vacation" to a degree. I prefer to think of it as "Time away from husband feeling kind of single-mom-ish but supported by my family-cation".

Nantucket is a fantasy world. It doesn't surprise me that 13 years ago I fell in love there. There is such a sweetness in the air - cultivated no doubt by ocean salt spray and creepy old spirits from the whaling days. Wild sunset skies... dunes... evening swims. Shadows and crickets. Falling asleep to the gentle sounds of rowdy vacationers and lonely foghorns. The rain on our rooftop was worthy of a relaxation podcast - and at that, it only rained at night or in the early morning. Fog burned off to give us mostly beach-worthy days... the kids were in paradise.

Penelope turned 2 on July 3rd, my mom turned 66 on July 4th. I feel like I'm 45, lining up for a turn in the Mid-life Crisis Circus. So I chopped about 8 inches of hair off my head... a trendy low-maintenance bob, I guess. I went to a bunch of incredible yoga classes taught by one of my favorite teachers from Providence, I rode my bike, I ran 2 road races. I went out and drank too much on more than one occasion. Got my swerve on. (I love the drunken illusions when your belly's full of gourmet treats: the ebb and flow of beautiful humans groomed like polo ponies, walking arm in arm, tiptoeing across the cobblestone streets, stumbling on the brick sidewalks. There's always a sunburned booze-hound sailor guy somewhere who laughs so loud that he rattles the glasses behind the bar. Oh, and those goddamn late-night fish tacos. I would kill for one right now.) There were these moments that felt really really good, yet somehow I thought that every second away from my kids was a huge burden on my mom or a detriment to my girls' mental health. I know I know. Silly. But feeling guilty is my great talent.

Leaving the island hurt like punches. I mean, for the first time in ages I had to blink back a couple of tears while we all tossed pennies off the ferry deck (local tradition: toss a penny from the boat as you round Brant Point Lighthouse to insure that you will return to the island again). And I'm not one to get sad. Shocking.

But we are home to the new rainforest of Vermont. Pests have devoured many of our garden delights... and perennials. Fucking slugs ate all the marigolds. The local organic food is spectacular however, and I'm pretty inspired in the kitchen. The twins got their Kindergarten class assignment and fortunately it's the teacher that I got the best first impression from. She has a guinea pig in her classroom, which will do her huge favors in the likability department. Ruby and Eloise begin gymnastics/soccer camp tomorrow - leaving Penny and I to do what we do best in the mornings: errands. (Poor portable Penelope...) As for Myles, he's in the pediatric intensive care unit this month, and then he gets a week vacation (that he'll spend half of tiling our bathroom). I'm relatively solo-momming yet again. Almost like Kate Gosselin, minus 5.

Well, one of these days I'm going to sit down to this fucking blog and tell you all something uplifting - I swear. Something monumental and enlightening. Something joyful.

Just you wait...