The Art Part

Antelope Canyon - currently living in the house of Danielle :) 

Greetings everyone! This is the first official “Art” post of my blog. Thus begins the inherent documentation (I suppose) of my art-making process and the simultaneous joy and anxiety that come along with launching an Etsy shop.  While I have been fantasizing about being able to do this for many years, even before the miracle of Etsy was created, it has never been feasible given the maddening daily schedule that I subjected myself to throughout college and grad school.  Now I am in a place in my life in which I am able to fully focus my energy into what I truly desire, and making art is one of those things. 

For my entire life, creating has been a place of solace for me, an escape from any and everything else that may have been going on at the time.  My Gram lovingly spurred this enjoyment in me as she introduced me to her favorite forms of creation - crocheting, knitting, sewing, quilting, etc.  The first form of paint I was exposed to as a pre-schooler was that of simple puff paint.  My Gram would buy iron-on patterns, apply them to pillowcases, handkerchiefs and the like, and I would follow behind her tracing the lines, filling the spaces, and eventually making my own designs and patterns.  She taught me embroidery, cross stitch, all those crafty-type things but I was too impatient.  I was drawn to the color - the movable, spreadable, intense impact whose affect could only be achieved by layers of liquid pigment.  Once I experienced what could be done with paint, I was in love. 

Growing up, I was always drawn to art shows and galleries. I was also drawn to ice cream.  Walking around art venues with a massive waffle cone in my hand is a very repetitive memory of mine.  I've eased off on the ice cream since then.  I have always admired those people sitting with their wares and creations on display for the world to see; fully committed to what they are doing and their work, regardless whether other people are attracted to it or not.  I have always lacked that perceived bravery.  That lack of bravery combined with a feeling of weirdness surrounding the idea of charging people for something that is natural for me led to my painting in a secluded space for only myself, my close friends and those that commissioned work without any marketing on my part. 

Even now, when people ask me how much a piece is, I get uncomfortable worrying that they will think it’s too much or that the piece isn't worth that.  When people respond with shock at the bargain, I then wonder if I'm selling myself short.  It’s a constant mental battle.  A wise photographer/designer friend of mine once told me I should decide what amount of money it would take to make me comfortable with letting a piece go.  How much it meant to me, what its value was to me personally.  That helped a lot.  Now I have no qualms about pricing my originals at what may be high to some, because that is what they mean to me.  I hang my originals in my home, because they are pieces of my soul and they remind me constantly of something very important to me.  So yes, it would take a decent chunk of money to get me to part with it.  And if someone is willing to pay that, then I know that they value the piece enough to make me comfortable with letting them take it.  Prints are easy to price on the other hand, as they are reproductions and I don't determine what it costs to make them, the print company does.  Thank you print company!

I'm not sure exactly what this portion of the blog will look like moving forward... I may post pictures of the process, write about a place or object that inspires a piece, or just blast a 5-sentence vent when my clumsy ass knocks a bottle of dye all over a piece of fresh silk.  Maybe all of the above. 

As of now, I have all the pieces in place to launch the shop.  I’m going on vacation to Montana for my best friend’s wedding for two weeks, and upon my return it will be official. No more denying how I would prefer to be spending my days and making my living.

Stay tuned!

Cromer

This weekend we had our first beach excursion here in England.  Only an hour and a half away, Cromer is a beautiful little fishing village on the east coast in Norfolk.   The weather was perfect, the food was amazing, the service at our hotel was impeccable, and the views were incredible.  It was also the most dog-friendly town I have ever seen.  There were dishes of water outside every shop, and your furry friends were allowed nearly everywhere, with the exception of the fancy restaurant – though they would happily set a place for you on the bar side where your doggies were more than welcome.  Our hotel even had dog beds and dishes waiting for us in the room.  And the dogs here tend to be just like the British. Chill.  It was great. 

On Friday, we got into town just in time to check in to the hotel and head down to the beach to let the babies run around and to catch the beautiful sunset into the sea.  Trying to write this blog now is difficult – there was so much I wanted to write about as it was happening this weekend and now I struggle to tell a decent story.  It was just so relaxing and beautiful, and it was very nice to have high quality seafood again; it’s been awhile.  I did some indulging on desserts this weekend, as there were homemade ice cream shops everywhere (we even took a horse and carriage ride while enjoying our ice cream - the babies thought this was fantastic) and the hotel happened to serve the most ridiculously succulent brownies a la mode I have ever laid my lips on. 

My husband was dying to try his hand at crabbing, which seemed to be the popular thing to do off the pier.  He caught three, and boy was he pumped.  Scarlet, of course, tried to eat one while it tried to pinch her face.  Henry, of course, was scared of it.  I, of course, read my book while basking in the sun and trying to block out the severely spoiled and obnoxious child pissing and moaning and commanding his parents right next to us.  Thankfully, his line broke and he whined his way off the pier.

Did I mention that the food was incredible? Even something so simple as scrambled eggs and smoked salmon was heavenly.  I’m salivating right now just thinking about it.  I managed to hunt down the only art gallery in town, and of course fell in love with not one, but two paintings that are so beyond my price range I don’t even want to talk about it.  I have met many works of art that I enjoy, that make me happy, that I admire and respect, that I think truly make the world a more beautiful place; but there are very few that truly capture my heart and soul and make me feel connected on a level that transcends viewing and reaches pure affection. This love I describe has only happened to me one other time in a gallery, and that is when I met Ceoul, Craic, agus Rinca in Killarney, Ireland.  It was expensive, so with a tear in my eye I walked away – but I couldn’t stop thinking about it days later.  So I called the gallery and found out that there were limited edition prints that were still expensive, but low enough that I could justify making the investment.  I have never regretted it.  In this case in Cromer, there were no prints, no plans for prints, only the very precious originals.  So instead I sat in front of them and burned them into my memory. It will have to do until I make my millions.  On a side note, there was a very cute cat in this gallery whose eyes were the color of the sea.  I have never seen eyes so aqua on an animal before. I was so sad about the paintings, however, that I failed to take a picture of said kitty. 

Scarlet reached new heights this weekend in displaying her cunning and intelligence. For those of you who aren’t familiar with the Gentle Leader, it is a leash attachment that loops around a dog’s muzzle from underneath the chin.  The loop expands when the leash is slack, and tightens when the dog pulls, thus pissing the dog off because it can’t easily open its jaws.  Therefore, if the dog wants to use its mouth, it doesn’t pull on the leash. Works like a charm.  Scarlet HATES the Gentle Leader.  When I get it out, she glares like she wants to cut me.  She also likes to ram her face along the ground while walking in an effort to get it off.  But lately, she has realized how to get it to not piss her off (i.e. not pulling) and has been really good about walking with a slack leash.  Anyway, we decided to leave them in the room for dinner on the second night since they were so exhausted from running up and down the beach all day.  2 hours later, we return to the room to find Henry in the corner with the “I didn’t do it, it was all her I swear please don’t yell at me I’m scared” look on, and Scarlet army-crawling toward us, tail wagging like mad with the “I know this place is ransacked but I just couldn’t help it and I’m really sorry but look how cute and sorry I am” look on.  As we picked stuff up, we realized that nothing was destroyed or chewed on, only shoved onto the floor.  It was obvious that it was her, as her little white hairs were all over the couch.  After we got everything back in its place, we found two tiny pieces of black plastic on the floor.  I immediately grabbed the Gentle Leader.  As I suspected, those tiny black pieces were once part of said device.  Scarlet, like a pirate searching for treasure, had dug through everything in the room with fevered focus, until she discovered the tiny strap and chewed off the only thing she needed to to make it unable to function – the clasp.  Not only that, she had done her best to shove it between the cushions of the couch when she was done disabling it.  I was simultaneously pissed and utterly impressed with my little princess and her premeditated murder of the Gentle Leader.  The next day as we headed to the beach, she walked with slack and a sideways glance the whole way as if to say “See, I don’t need it anymore. Beotch.”  I’m such a proud mother.

We frolicked on the beach and had one more ice cream cone on the pier before we departed the lovely town of Cromer.  The pictures turned out fabulously if you wanna looksee! https://picasaweb.google.com/enger.emily

Living.The.Dream.

With gratitude,

Emily

The Dog Blog

Let me tell you about our little babies.  While my husband was in London this last week volunteering with the Olympics, my little soft furry doggies and I had some serious bonding time – meaning I let them sleep in our bed every night – and I decided I needed to devote some writing to my intense love and appreciation for them. 

 Scarlet is my little princess.  On the day I met her, I knew she was meant to be mine.  We were at an adoption fair in Scottsdale, AZ and there were hundreds of dogs, cats, miniature horses, bulldogs in tutus, you name it.  She was the only white puppy in a herd of 9 beige and brown puppies and she was sitting calmly in the corner of the kennel while the others paraded and jumped around her.  I went over to her and asked the woman running the org if I could see her.  Her name was puppy #7.  I picked her up, and she put one paw over each of my shoulders and nuzzled her face into my neck.  It was the best puppy hug ever and I shed a little tear like the sap that I am.  I put her on a leash and she promptly army crawled alongside me and then flipped over on her back for a belly rub.  When my husband met Henry (Wesley in his paperwork), it was love at first sight for him as well.  He was one of the most beautiful puppies we had ever seen.  Red, fluffy, unbelievably soft. He was lying in a woman’s arms on his back like a baby, not moving, so calm and loving.  When she finally put him down, James snagged him.  We introduced him to Scarlet, handed over our cash and headed home.   

Throughout the time we lived in Phoenix and would grumble about how much we hated living there, we would always remind ourselves that we would never have our little family if we hadn’t lived there.  The sticker shock from moving them overseas with us didn’t last very long either, it is now hard to imagine life without them. 

I love the way Scarlet can curl up in the tiniest ball when she is sleeping.  I love how soft she is, what a good cuddler she is, how her whole booty shakes back and forth when I get the leash out.  When she’s in trouble, she army crawls over, squints, bares her teeth and takes her punishment like a real woman.  She is very bendable – one day I came home and she had escaped from the kennel, yet Henry was still inside.  She will sit in front of you and bend her head all the way back to smile at you and make sure you know she is there.  She will gently set her paw on you and throw her head back as if to say, ‘If you don’t pet me I will surely perish.’  She loves to camp, because it means she gets to curl up in my lap next to the fire and sleep on the air mattress – not to mention eat all sorts of tasty new things that she finds.  She is ragingly independent yet such a loving companion.  She cries when Henry is out of sight, and sleeps as close to my side of the bed as she can get, even if she is partway underneath it.  She waits quietly for me to wake up in the morning, and as soon as my eyes open her tail begins to wag and the army crawl toward my face commences.  As soon as I say the word ‘outside’ she slingshots down the stairs toward the door.  She loves to be bathed, loves to be Furminated, and lays on her back for nail trimmings.  If she could be continuously touched all day every day, I’m pretty sure she would sign right up. 

And Henry.  What a handsome boy he is.  A hit with the ladies everywhere we go.  So soft, so fluffy, so innocent and sweet.  The most well-behaved, loyal, calmest and sweetest doggie I have ever met.  The boy who doesn’t even need a leash because he will never leave our side when walking.  Who protects Scarlet when she is being sniffed or harassed by other dogs at the park.  Whose tail wags in a circle like a helicopter rather than back and forth.  Who is the best little spoon ever, and loves his rope more than a fat kid loves cake.  His first 8 months he would play with nothing, chew on nothing.  The day we brought home a rope toy was the day his world changed forever.  The flinging, the dancing, the tossing – it is endless entertainment and joy. And I love how they sleep in tandem.

I know that we won’t have our little babies forever, and I already work myself into a tearful tizzy thinking about the day they will cruise on up to doggie heaven.  But we recognize that, feed them the best food money can buy, give them all the ropes and bones they could ever want, and shower them with love and cuddles and scratches and belly rubs as much as we possibly can.  Hopefully that will be enough to keep them with us for as long as possible.

Cheers to Scarlet and Henry, and to your pets as well, whether they are still with us or waiting for you on the other side of the curtain :)

 

Wireless Festival!

It’s been awhile! I apologize to my adoring fan (hi Mom) to have kept you waiting for so long. I’m sure you’re at the edge of your seat. 

Work has been crazy, as we had our massive 4^th of July celebration last week; carnival, 54 food vendors (the Brits LOVE funnel cakes), RAF Red Arrows, American Idols Tour, etc.  It was a long couple of days! As BMW was one of our sponsors, I got to schmooze and ogle a delicious Mini Countryman, my current fantasy-mobile.  The food was great, as were our vendors and sponsors, the RAF Red Arrows put on a great air show and the event was a 30,000 attendee success. 

Last Friday we had the privilege of seeing some of the most epic guitar playing I have seen since Seattle days – I love the unique joy that quality live music brings me.   

mmmm Rihanna...

Speaking of, we ended up scoring a screaming last minute deal on tickets to the Wireless Festival in Hyde Park in London, a.k.a Rihanna’s deliciously sexy and amazing-self headlining, with some Jessie J, Kaskade and various others to boot.  This was my first experience at one of those music festivals that is essentially a mud bath.  I saw some very dirty things that day that I will spare you the details of. 

People were peeing in this mud. No shame.

I was very glad to have my Wellies.  We got home about 1:30 am last night – London looks amazing at night btw, Big Ben, the London Eye, the tower bridge…glorious – and I am deliriously writing this blog waiting for the chicken to come off the rotisserie so I can shove it in my mouth and pass out.

I have been feeling sad lately about the lack of instant access to my circle of love back home.  When I was in Peace Corps I could Skype for hours because I had the time to do so.  Here, I have a normal job and home life to manage which makes it a tad more difficult, combined with the members of my circle of love having crazy busy lives as well.  We are no longer just a text or phone call away, chats must be scheduled – not to mention an 8 hour time difference.  The only solace I have in this is that I am confident I have some of the most solid and epic friendships on earth and our powerful telepathic connections of love maintain said relationships with force even when we cannot see, touch or hear each other on a daily basis.  At least that is what helps me cope with it.  :)

 

Meanwhile, we continue to grow our wine collection and fill our freezer with delicious clean local meat, research trips to take and generally live the dream.  On the agenda so far: Wales in October, foodie trip to London in November, Rome for Thanksgiving, Scotland for New Years, Iceland in January, and the Norwegian Fjord cruise next summer. WHEEEEEE!!!!!!

With love and gratitude,

Emily

14,716,800 Minutes

Soon....

So today I have been alive for 28 years.  2.8 decades.  10,220 days.  245,280 hours.  14,716,800 minutes.  That is a lot of minutes.  So much can happen in just one minute.  It takes mere seconds for a new life to be created, for a life to end, for an idea to appear in your mind, for something to happen that will change your life forever.  And in one simple breath it can all disappear.  And what if it did?  What if you were about to take your last breath?  Would you be afraid? Would you be content?  Would you be regretful?  10 years ago, did you think you would be doing what you are doing now in 10 years?  Probably not.  But are you happy with how you got to today? That is the important question.  When I was in junior high, 28 sounded old.  45 sounded nearly dead.  Today, I feel healthy, happy, vibrant, blessed - young.  I look forward to every day, to every lesson, to every challenge, to every fork in the road and every decision that brings me further along my path in life, whatever that path may be. 

 

The '20s' have been a roller coaster of emotions, decision-making, self-discovery, hard-learned lessons, reflection and the firestorm of anxiety and hormones just to make it all a little more interesting.  I have become more assured, more self-aware, and have gained more clarity as to what is truly important to me and what it is that I really want out of this life.  I have solid, valuable and cherished relationships with my family and my friends that I consider to be family - that I know will never weaken, regardless of where we live in the world and how many times a month we actually get to hear each other's voices.  I have learned that what I thought I wanted my career to look like may not be what it is going to actually look like, nor what I want it to look like anymore.  I have learned that I am capable of far more than I ever would have imagined, even 5 years ago.  I have learned that "you get what you earn" (thank you, Adam) - and if you show up to the table and give of yourself, your return on investment will be ten-fold.  I laugh sometimes when I think about my 'senior quote' in high school.  "Give the world the best that you have and the best will come back to you."  At the time, of course my 17-year-old brain wasn't fully understanding of the scope of this and the true depth of what it carried.  It was just something that really resonated with me, and a nice summary of how I wanted to live my life and what I wanted others to try and live by as well.  And now, it is a philosophy that has expanded, deepened, branched out in so many ways in my life and in my psyche that I feel it is subconsiously ingrained in everything I say and do.  At least I hope it is.

 

I have seen and experienced things that I would have only dreamed about seeing and doing when I was a child, and I have given as well as received love at such magnitudes that I could never express my gratitude in words.  Every experience that I may have perceived as negative at its time has always, without fail, manifested itself in a positive light down the road.  That of course, is typically a matter of chosen perspective.  It is a perspective that is hard to maintain at times, when we see people doing such atrocious things to others and behaving in such selfish ways that negatively impact so many others.  It is so frustrating.  I used to be of the vengeful mind...fight fire with fire...focus on doing everything possible to fight against what we perceive as 'wrong' or negative in the name of what we feel is 'right' or positive... but I have found that my desire to simply focus on only the positive and do more ignoring of the negative is much more productive, less stressful, and healthier.  Energy is much better spent in the manner of building yourself and others up, inspiring good, empowering the weak and vulnerable, supporting those that seek and need support...rather than expending so much energy 'fighting the baddies', when the baddies will never turn into 'goodies'.  So let the sucky people suck is what I'm saying.  Let them wallow in their own suckiness.  They will continue to suck, regardless of the energy you spend thinking about or telling them how much they suck.  That is their chosen path.  Don't let their suckiness affect YOU.  Rise above, choose to see the silver lining, the rainbow, the lollipops, the unicorns, whatever it is that symbolizes the good for you.  And then BE that good.  Everywhere, all the time, in your actions, in your words, in your interactions with all other humans.  It will be infectious in ways that you may never even know about and affect others in positive ways that you may never see.  And it WILL come back to you, exponentially.  I promise.  Find your strengths and focus them. Maximize your potential as a human.  Then find the strengths in others and call them out.  Build them up.  Help them maximize their potential as well.  These ripples are what will change the world for the better.  And eventually, if we all project enough good, it will hopefully overpower the loudness of the bad.

 

It has been an incredible and interesting 28 years, and yes, I am most definitely happy with every step that I took to get to this day, because this day is BEAUTIFUL.  And so are you.  So get out there, give all that you are, and don't waste one breath.

 

With love and gratitude,
Emily