a week in color {№12}

in this pretty gloomy week, there was so much local color to be found.   i am so grateful for this little city and the beauty it keeps serving up.

on saturday, TOOLRY, our creative coworking space, hosted a lovely flower workshop.  when you add buckets of flowers, lemon scones and loads of flower-happy girls to TOOLRY's already stunning interior and good vibes, the vibrant joy kind of blows you away.

our lovely teacher, sarah-louise, flower goddess from irvington spring farm, posing for our brilliant official photographers of the day foster addington.

earlier in the week, i took a stroll in the urban zen that is anne spencer's historic garden.  we are so lucky to have this home and garden to enjoy.  anne spencer, the harlem renaissance poet, lived in lynchburg.  i can't wait to share the inside of her home with you in the future.  the colors are breathtaking.  she is a kindred spirit.  but on this summer day: the garden.

at the pond, you can push a button and listen to mrs. spencer's poetry about her garden.  bliss.

lucky local us.

sunday grace

collective despair.

we are swimming in it.

sometimes it feels like too much.  we bear witness to so much pain and grief; we touch it intimately and universally.  we are pulled into the opposite of hope.

as a child, when there were weeks like the last few our world has endured, i experienced the additional fear and confusion of living in a home where the term "the end times" was bounced around like a sad balloon my parents were dedicated to keep inflated and afloat.  it tasted a lot like giving up.  on my own, with only my imagination and tenderstrong heart, i had to develop the antidote to this doomsy view of life in order to survive.

i asked, what if these are the beginning times?  what can i do, how can i be, who can i love so that light remains stronger than darkness?

grace was, and is, my imaginary friend.

here is some practical advice she's whispered to me over the years:

• stay curious about individuals.  especially those you disagree with.
• create on an hourly basis.  better yet, stay in creation mode all the time.  creativity is the opposite of destruction.
• experience silence.  it's the only way to truly rest and make sense of the rest of it.  for me, this means news sobriety.  modern "news" is the loud, incessant and distorted cheap boombox back beat for collective despair.  if you feel you must maintain some connection to the overwhelming happenings, find a quality source of information you trust and take little sips, no more than once a day.  i haven't listened to the news for months.  it took several years to wean myself from this destructive addiction.
• love.  especially children and other tender souls.
• each moment, make conscious decisions and take action to create the world you want to live in. in a million tiny ways, we can be the world we want our children to flourish in.
• listen to good music that touches and inspires you.
• laugh. a lot.  play. without shame.

let's live in the beginning of times.

a week in color {№11}

this is really "three weeks in color".  july was quietly awesome with cool days (unheard of in these parts), lots of down time, exploring sketching and watercolors, the farmers market, and happening upon a secret lotus pond.

creative time at toolry, the amazing artists' collaborative workspace downtown.  having a dedicated space to focus on one aspect of my creative self at a time (which often feels a bit broad and spread thin) lit a spark in me.  and the inspiration continued to glow throughout my weeks.

favorite summer thing:  heirloom tomatoes

favorite summer thing:  peach ice cream.

favorite summer thing:  dahlias.

this is pretty much my life.  except i was going for simon in the background.  simon is not as well-behaved as the queen's corgis.  he fancies himself an anarchist.  here's an outtake:

happy august loves!