Life as ArT

Another blink of an eye ...

This time of year I find myself reminiscing.  It seems fitting that in the last couple weeks I’ve heard this song on the car radio three times.  The song, “100 Years” by Five for Fighting, is about the different stages of life and how fast the years pass by (I’m 15 for a moment).  It has special meaning to me.  Five years ago on June 24^th, this song played on the slideshow at my father’s funeral.  Each time I hear it, I’m reminded that if I only have a hundred years to live (I’m just dreaming…), I best not waste any of it.  And, it makes me miss my Dad.

June 25^th was my oldest child’s birthday.  Okay, Eric’s not a child anymore, but all you moms know what I mean.  He’ll always be my first, my baby boy.  Just yesterday, he was a cute chubby toddler, then, (another blink of an eye) … he’s six feet tall and 40! I see him sometimes in the toddler boys I photograph – the unsure steps, the silly grin, the look of concentration, tongue sticking out.  I saw him in the little baseball player who came to the studio directly from a game, still dirty (at my urging).  I see him in the senior boys – dreamers, talented and full of life - so much life ahead (15, there’s still time for you).  I see him in his children.  He has passed on his artistic talent to his daughter, his sense of humor to his son, his big heart to both.

 

Eric was the first grandchild and, as you can see, had a special bond with my father. 

Happy Birthday, Eric! 

 

Soon after I posted this at 1 a.m., I left the studio and got into my car.  The car radio came on and, guess what was playing on the radio.  Yep, "100 Years." 

'Friday Night Lights' Newcomer

I think all my nieces and nephews are amazing, wonderful people.  But I'm bragging today about a nephew who is doing something pretty amazing.  Grey Damon's picture has been hanging in my studio window for a few months now. 

And now, the whole family is excited about his upcoming role on Friday Night Lights.  The season premier is May 7th on NBC.  Follow this link to read more.

http://ausiellofiles.ew.com/2010/04/11/friday-nigh-lights-grey-damon/

Pictures in my Head

Today, my youngest child turned 30 (my oldest is nearing 40).  Acknowledging that fact can certainly make me feel old but I don’t want to dwell on my gray hair and what caused it, except … lately, I have been browsing through the photo album in my head.  My family will tell you that my memory is faulty (I attribute that to just too much stuff to retain, but maybe it’s because there’s not enough gray matter – ha!).  Nevertheless, there are some images I can pull from my memory and reminisce whenever I wish.  I’m sure you have those too.  It seems that even after decades, I can see the moment clearly, as though I was there again.  Some of these are snapshots and some are snippets of video.

I can still see my daughter, Amanda, on her first birthday.  She wore the special outfit I bought her- red tights and a white print top with red rickrack trim (it now resides in the cedar chest upstairs).  She was walking and pretty steady on her feet that day.  She didn’t yet have enough hair to look like a little girl. 

Jump to Monday of this week.  I added a new picture to the photo album in my head.  I stood in the parking lot of a clinic and watched Amanda, long, dark, silky hair swinging as she carried her sick six-year-old daughter in to see the doctor.  Evie is almost too big to carry now but she wasn’t feeling well.  Her arms and legs dangled as she rested her head on Amanda’s shoulder.  My baby was carrying her baby.  OK, sorry for the mush but sometimes, I think my heart will just burst with love and pride.  I know that picture will forever remain in my head, too.  (Evie is on the mend now.) 

In my head, there is a picture of my new baby daughter’s face the very first time I saw her.  There are pictures of her on the first day of school, waiting on the school bus with her name pinned to her new jumper; pictures from her first dance revue (she was a bunny and scarcely moved on stage); there’s a picture of her sobbing from watching “Old Yeller,” pictures of her laughing in her room with a group of girls at a sleep over;  then there was graduation, the wedding, and the births of her three children … the picture album in my head seems infinite, and yet, I wish I could remember all of it, every moment.  So many pictures are “out of focus” or missing.  That makes the images I do have in my head all the more precious and important.

So, it must be karma or fate or a natural extension of who I am or something, that I now make pictures of babies, children, young adults, so that their parents can remember how they thought their hearts would burst with love and pride.  This is the best job in the world – it’s what I was meant to do.

Happy Birthday, Amanda!

(Oh - Eric, my almost 40 year old baby boy, will have to wait for his June birthday to see what I have to write about him.)

One of the Good Guys

Today was a sad day for our family.  My 52-year-old cousin, Tom, was laid to rest after a valiant fight with cancer.  Though I had little contact with him in his adult years (the annual family reunion), I remember the child he was and I knew that he was one of the good guys.  His son spoke at the funeral about how family always came first for his dad.  That is so admirable.  So, I’m dedicating today’s blog to my cousin Tom.  May you rest in peace.  May your family find comfort together in the memories they hold of you.

So, having said that, I thought it would be appropriate to share this image with you all.  I know it will make you smile and maybe help you to get some Christmas spirit no matter what life brings your way today.  This is Lilly. 

A note to my customers:  It’s been too long since my last post.  I’ve been so very busy.  I’ve been working late and making do with only 4-6 hours of sleep every night; working 32 hours at my day job, and many more at the studio.  A few friends and family warned that something was going to give.  Well, it did.  I blame my lack of sleep for my ability to catch any little germ my wonderful Petri-dish grandchildren may have.  This last one knocked me out of commission for three days (not a good time of year for a one-woman shop to be out of commission).  So, I am now scrambling to catch up to where I was before when I was working so hard to catch up – yikes!  I have apologized to those of you whose appointments were cancelled because of my illness and want to THANK YOU for being so understanding.