The theme of summer school/camp this year was "What's Your Story?" Wondered what my story was, or at least the part I could share with the kids. At times I am so haunted by the old, violent story, the one that made me cry during pre-camp as we looked at the scale of violence, that the better, happier parts of my life get lost.
The beauty and joy of my life: Emily and Willow. We went camping with the Birkles and the Kennedys over the 4th of July. Shoobie la perra was not allowed to go on the ferry over to the island, so Willow escorted her in Mr. Birkle's canoe. La Shoobie LOVED it!
However, on the night of the 4th, the bombs burst in air over our heads, and Shoobie did NOT love it. I walked her back to the tent where she curled up in a ball by my side, grateful to be hidden from the sparkling fireworks. Willow took pics for me.
Art continues to be a solace. I finished this "self-portrait" as an example for a summer school project, but mine is a mix of themes from the school project (goals, dreams, what's important to me), as well as themes from the Crafting Our Voices class (especially influences/heroes). 
I could work on this still. The face is what pulls me, the words "I am quiet" stitched across my lips, the threads pulling and breaking open as I dare more and more to break that silence.
The face flips up, and inside the dreams and realities of my thoughts fly wildly. They need more turbulence - a thousand words piled on top of a thousand more - thoughts never ceasing, all the things I hold within straining to burst out.
However, on the night of the 4th, the bombs burst in air over our heads, and Shoobie did NOT love it. I walked her back to the tent where she curled up in a ball by my side, grateful to be hidden from the sparkling fireworks. Willow took pics for me.Art continues to be a solace. I finished this "self-portrait" as an example for a summer school project, but mine is a mix of themes from the school project (goals, dreams, what's important to me), as well as themes from the Crafting Our Voices class (especially influences/heroes). I could work on this still. The face is what pulls me, the words "I am quiet" stitched across my lips, the threads pulling and breaking open as I dare more and more to break that silence. The face flips up, and inside the dreams and realities of my thoughts fly wildly. They need more turbulence - a thousand words piled on top of a thousand more - thoughts never ceasing, all the things I hold within straining to burst out.Another class here and there, little projects leading to other little projects that I can give away in gratitude for some kind of happy connection.
Real vacation has begun at last. Our little corner of the globe is in a cool summer funk - cloudy, but I can't complain about the temperatures in the 70's! The flowers are abundant, and my mini-jungle makes me happy.
