Birthday Plans

As tomorrow marks the beginning of a new year, it also marks my 27th birthday--it's true. So the picture on the left is the very last of my young self. While I use to find my birthday often shared with everyone and so close to Christmas a bit of a drag, I've really come to love this day because I can look forward to a true new beginning. Not only does the entire world (save China) mark it as a day to turn a new leaf, but I get to move up one notch on years that I have spent on this earth and lately, I am ever hopeful for what up and coming year holds for me as I continue to grow as a person. While twenty-six was an odd year for me, feeling unsettled with where to live, where to be, unfinished tugs on the heart strings, I also had some wonderful experiences and met some charming and delightful friends. And, as a whole, I feel like I have begun to truly gage my own patterns, steps, rhythms--a skill often challenging, but rewarding and prideful as well.

Traditionally, I spend my birthday with my family or my favorite people, but I find this year, I am looking forward to the solitude of myself and my paint brushes. It has been a very busy holiday season, full of travel, craziness at work, moving to my own apartment, and general nuttiness so much so I just want to be still, reconnect with what I enjoy, remember what it is that I truly wish to be doing in life while all of the rest of life catches up with me, pulling all directions but the stool beside my desk. So the tidying of the apartment will be this evening. A trip to Dunkin Donuts with my neighbor in the morning (to do something special) and then off I will roll in to Molly space, humming along to Chris Pureka and pushing paint around on the canvas. I'll be sure to post some befores and afters.

And with that, I'm off to put away my Christmas pans (thanks fedex!) and wish you all a very lovely New Year. I genuinely hope everyone's year might be their very best one yet.

The Evening's Events

So this evening I had to pump myself up for what I knew was going to be a longish night of painting, in attempts to finish up a commission for next weekend. Shower, Irish Soda Bread in the oven, ipod on ears, I was ready to rock and roll. While I was groanie prior to the actual painting extravaganza, once I sat down, as usual, I was having a wonderful time. So here are some of the images from my painting streak this evening...





That aside, I've been making Christmas presents every day during my free time. I am a Christmas present Craft center here on Harris Avenue. With this being said, I absolutely love my new apartment and studio room. One can't beat a space dedicated solely to art. While unpacking, I specifically didn't allow my printer to go in my studio because it didn't fit in the creative space without poor work vibes, so it's perched on my file cabinet in my bedroom. If someone came to visit, they would know where the priorities lie in my world as my living room is pretty much vacated, empty and echoey (yeah need furniture) but with paintings propped up all along the walls. The kitchen is coming along, but needs a table (I was using a shelf of my bookshelf for a bit). But if you go to my studio, it is up and running. Bookshelf against the wall, Trina perched atop it; paintings laid out on the floor while I debate the final wall, books lining the cool old window frames, magic things integrated in the corners, studio desk up and paints all alongside. Even my bedroom can't beat that.

So, while I'm busy as anything, prioritizing Christmas before the rest of the furniture aquisition/apartment embelishments, it is a great space and full of such potential. I can't wait to continue investing in it. Plus, they let me have dogs so as I consulted with my sister this evening on the activity planning for the upcoming birthday she suggested going to look at dogs. I always want to have wonderful birthdays--who wouldn't? And I think this would be a grand idea.

Declarations

I freaking love painting.

Passing

"What's he doing?"
"Dad's doing what he loves best," my dad says into the phone. "He's taking a nap."
"Oh."

"I heard if you hold the phone up next to him that maybe I could say something?"
"Oh sure Mol, hang on."

"Ah, you got a head nod out of him."
"That's good. Would you give him a kiss on his forehead for me Dad?"

And so marks the passing of my grandpa. Age 99, and the kindest, gentlest old man, who enjoyed a good smile, and a good snooze, always placing these cut out eye masks over his eyes. I remember as a kid, crawling up on his tummy, his striped pj's poking out from the covers, and my little hands peeling back the navy blue eye shades to sneak a peek at the sleeping blue eyes beneath. "Wake up Grandpa!" Then, as he passed 90, me going into his room, his hair all askew, gently rocking his shoulder, "Grandpa, it's time to get up." "Hurumph... give me ten more minutes." When I think of him, I have a smile on my face. He was a good soul that John Aloysius--the only boy in a handful of many sisters, enjoying family, music in his study, watching us climb maple trees in Connecticut and orange trees in Arizona, pressing fresh oranges when we climbed down. I think of him every time I sit in a poorly lit room with a book tucked in my lap, telling me as a seven-year-old, not to ruin my eyes, "Turn on a light Molly," he'd say, flicking on the light above my head. But mostly, I think my grandpa was just happy living life. He seemed peaceful, jovial, full of memories, be it knitting socks for WWI or asking my grandma to round up some good dates for him and his sailor buddies during WWII (only to decide to be sweet on her afterall). I'm glad he hung around long enough to meet his great grandson, and a little while longer past Gram just to be present as the family lost a wing of their own. It is strange to now have both my grandparents gone on my dad's side of the family. I only have one set left.

But I have felt Gram around and I am sure it will be nice for the two of them, having spent so long in this space together, to meet again, a year in-between. And I applaud my grandpa for making it to 99, as I did my gram for 97, and can only appreciate the gentle way he passed from this world to the next. But he will still be missed, as is my grandma and I imagine I will find myself saying, "I miss my grandpa." Just as I say, "I miss my grandma," from time to time. And that, is just the way life is.