A Lake in Summer

We went back to the Poconos again this year to visit John’s friends at their cabin on the lake. I brought books, my camera, my writing notebook, and my bathing suit— perfect.

Sailing! I’d only been in a small boat once since I signed up at the community boating center in Boston 25 years ago and learned how to sail on the Charles River. John too—who used to live on a sailboat and even went to the Galapagos via the Panama Canal—hadn’t been in a tiny Sunfish in a long time. Here he is with Richard in the race (the two boats on the left).

I spent a lot of time in this beautiful little library, reading and working on some writing. Every day I had my favorite corner table to myself, with a view out the window of the birch trees.

Katherine seemed to hit it off with Jackie the cat. They spent afternoons chilling out on the porch together.

Katherine also passed the lake’s very rigorous swim test, which was a big deal because it meant she could participate in fun activities like pirate sailing (where you try to board and commandeer other sailors’ boats— or just tip them over) and paddleboard jousting (where you knock other people off their boards with giant pool noodles).

I think she had the most fun just hanging out with her dad, though.

I went for a walk in the woods every day…

… and spent some time in the nature center. This was such a cool place, with books and activity guides, tanks of fish and frogs and snakes, and taxidermied local animals and pressed flowers and plants, birds’ nests, skulls, and monarch butterfly caterpillars munching on leaves — pretty much anything you’d find at a natural history museum but on a smaller, more intimate scale.

Ever since swimming with lily pads in New Hampshire a few years ago, I think they’re especially magical. It could be easy to get tangled up in the tendrils floating underneath, but if you just float through without moving too much, it feels like you’re being caressed by underwater fairies.

The lake is quiet. There are no jet-skis allowed and even motorboats can only be a certain size. When we swam off the dock it felt like our very own world.

Back at the cabin. Jackie loves the window seat…

And I loved our cozy bedroom, with the ferns and forest right out the window. (And with bedspreads that I wanted to steal and turn into a dress :-)

Thank you again, Marguerite, Richard, Natalie, & Alexander, for sharing your summer paradise with us!

View last year’s Poconos post HERE.

Breathing Room: Advice from Sherman

Sherman’s got it down. Napping with Snuffle Bear whenever he feels like it. I know there’s a lesson for me here. After the June whirlwind of getting ready for my exhibit and having the opening, it feels like I can finally take a breath again. Stop and look around. Oh yeah, I have a garden that’s wilting! And—oh yeah!—didn’t I used to sew my own clothes and play the ukulele and read books?

Prepping for the show took such blinders-on focus that left a lot of other things behind. I know people who seem to be able to go full-speed-ahead without going crazy, but I wind up either getting sick or having a bit of a mental meltdown. *sigh*

There is still what seems a huge amount of things to do to keep Flying Adventures moving forward, and there’s a LOT I didn’t get done before the show, even with all the time in the world to prepare. I kick myself for procrastinating on things I shouldn’t have, etc etc. Why do we beat ourselves up for stuff like this? There’s always going to be more you could have done, no matter how much you DID do! Grrrr.

Back in school, there were the kids who planned way ahead for their projects and papers and seemed on top of that whole process. Then there were the last-minuters who either managed to cobble something passable together, or who practically killed themselves to get a top grade. I always found myself in the camp somewhere in between the planners and the procrastinators. I don’t want to think of a project all semester long, but I don’t want to wait until the last minute either.

Unfortunately my middle of the road approach never worked because I’d either underestimate how long it would take to do the various tasks on the list, or I would constantly recalibrate the schedule based on how much time was left. Who wants to be done early just to sit around & wait, right?? I always seem to want to slide in right on the deadline. Unfortunately this doesn’t leave room for the inevitable disaster, delay, or needed day off, and winds up giving me reasons to get down on myself later for all that I didn’t finish. It’s really self-sabotage disguised as some false sense of mastery over time management.

I think I’m finally done with that. I need to be more mindful when I’m planning, leave breathing room, and, yes, even finish early if that’s what happens. Some creative people feel more creative when they’re pushing time limits, but I’m finally realizing it just stresses me out. I need to take my cue from the Sherm. If I can’t have a nap or play ukulele or sew a new dress or read a book while working on a big project, something’s wrong.

Exhibition Weekend

I still can’t really believe that finally, after ten years since my original flying adventure with Ryan, the creative project that sprung from it, that begun as a thank-you gift for my friend and evolved into something bigger than a single book, is now hanging on the walls of a museum. (!)

The show opening was wonderful. Friends came from all over, Traci and my brother flew up from Florida, my incredibly supportive neighbors made the drive, even my accountant made an appearance. “So THIS is what you do!” he said.

I even signed my first flyer autograph! (What ?! — So weirdly wonderful!) Yes it was for someone I know, but it’s going in a frame and being hung next to a Patty Wagstaff poster! What an honor — thank you Dan!

A festive dinner followed the opening reception and then the next day was spent, fittingly, at the airport, where John gave airplane rides until dusk. A perfect ending to a perfect weekend.

I have to say, I am pretty proud of myself for not giving up on this project after so many years, and for being willing to let it become what it wanted to be in its own time. And, of course, I am thankful and grateful:

To Ryan for the magic, to Swan and the encouragement of our photo group friends, to Jace Graf for the amazing bookbinding weekend, to the Ohio Arts Council and the Greater Columbus Arts Council for awards and grant funding, to the Springfield Museum of Art for saying yes, to Vicki & Tom for the studio space, to my family and special friends, and to my husband John, for not only teaching me how to fly but for becoming my lifelong adventure friend.