dreaming of hawaii

i know that it's been a while since posting (for whomever may be reading my blog regularly!) but life has been so hectic lately that i have not had time to do proper research on any piece i have, nor have i had time to be creative. mostly i've worked nonstop and then read the twilight series as a getaway. (our book club gave in to an easy read this month, so i ventured into teen angst, and did not put it down until i was properly finished so i could feel good about something...anything...i could cross off my checklist.)

it's times like these that i start to fantasize about being in hawaii.

we went to hawaii for our honeymoon and it was truly such a perfect vacation.

so, i've decided to write about one of the things that we have on our walls in our bedroom.

hanging above our dresser are these two leis from our honeymoon in hawaii.

(for this post, i'm going to offer a little mood music...and then let you visit a little of my current 'happy place' through some honeymoon pictures.)

we stayed at the fairmont orchid for the first part of our honeymoon. it was such an amazing hotel... beauty around every corner, peaceful quiet, and amazing service. whenever life gets tough, we say, 'oh the fairmont!' it was our heaven-on-earth. these pictures show the grounds and the outdoor patio where we had breakfast the first day. it was blissful- soft music playing, lots of yummy food, and the best breeze ever.

that day we spent the entire day at the pool, under the hugest umbrella ever, on completely comfortable padded lounge chairs. unlike our other hotel, this one was deserted- we had the whole pool to ourselves, it seemed. marc slept and i read- perfect! i love the palm trees reflected in his sunglasses. :)

the second day we ventured out around the big island.

we went to a lovely botanic garden that was truly impressive. i also got eaten alive by mosquitoes, but that isn't part of my hawaiian daydreams anymore. :)

while we were out we found this little snack shack that had the BEST smoothies and i also had a chicken wrap that was uh-ma-zing. we sat on the porch and took in the scenery.

i loved the flora of hawaii and was amazed by the shapes i saw. i'm remodeling our place to be a little reminiscent of hawaii, and want to redo our pillows and decor... perhaps these pictures will inspire some lines and designs.

our copy room at school has pictures of hawaii posted up all over. in some ways, i think it is torturous that they are there- as if they are mocking how chained we are to our jobs. on the other hand, sometimes i sit there while i wait and imagine being in hawaii right at that moment. seriously, i want to go back. i know it is cliche, but there's a reason for it.

i've got a lot of stories to tell about me, and my mom, and i know i've shared a lot of lovey dovey stories about marc and i. but they're the easiest ones to tell b/c i already have the pictures and i know the stories. so for now, until i get my head above water, they are the ones i will share. plus, it was so wonderful to think on hawaii for a little bit, i had to share my pictures and music with you as well.

at least you know what i'm thinking. :)

weaving deeper meaning into tapestries

five years ago, i went to turkey on a tour of biblical sites.

one day, we visited a turkish carpet school.

we were led all through the compound, told all about the carpet-making process.

basketfuls of silk cocoons rested until they were made into strands of silk.

near a giant spinning wheel, an array of hand-dyed wool waited to be used in one carpet or another. the richness and variety of colors amazed me.

above the weavers, specific colors used in their carpets hung in queue for their moment in the pattern.

in this open air 'studio', weavers quietly focused on their pieces. i was intrigued by the color, texture, and fine craftsmanship i witnessed as the guide explained the traditional designs the girls were following. this was a place for them to master various regional patterns known throughout turkey. who would have given so much thought to the rug beneath your feet?

as i watched, i noticed that each girl had a picture of the carpet she was making above her loom. this showed the rug in its completed design. this part amazed me the most: to glance at the picture and then downward at the work-in-progress. without the design above, it was nearly impossible to see where the weaver was going with her pattern.

at the time, i was so enthralled with the whole atmosphere, i didn't have time to think any deeper. but sometime later- maybe on the ride across the countryside, maybe back at home reviewing the pictures- i realized that there was a much, much deeper lesson about these carpets.

i don't have a picture of this one weaver's loom to share, but while i was there, i noticed one girl working on a carpet all in blacks and beiges. it was beautiful. but she had added a few rows of blood red that looked completely out of place. it practically ruined the entire 'look' of the rug. however, studying her pattern, it became obvious: red was the signature color of the carpet; it was the most integral part of the design. she had simply been working on the border that would 'hold' it all together.

isn't that a lot like life?

we're going along, thinking everything is going according 'to plan.' we have everything neatened up, the way we want it to go, and (more importantly) the way it's always been.

then, all of a sudden, something comes and messes the whole thing up.

sure- we try to go against the pattern. and it hurts- (it's no mistake these patterns are secured with double knots- especially the really good carpets- the knots are the tell-tale sign of quality.) without something really holding fast, it just looks like a good design- the beauty needs to be backed up with solid construction. so, we bend to this new direction, and soon become adjusted to the 'new' way of being.

it's only in hindsight that we can see how it all works together. how on the backside of the tapestry, all parts are woven into one. how there is a master plan that intended all those colors; in fact, they were all lining up in wait, ready to be incorporated together.

perhaps because it was 'blood red', i especially related this analogy to tragedy. the way tragedy transforms us, how it makes us who we are. and, how in tragedy, we cling to truth and peace and love- just like the knots cling to the grounding of the loom's fibers.

there is a master plan- there is a master weaver- and there is beauty in the design.

look at the turkish carpets throughout this post, and imagine them as a 'life.'

the borders of childhood and old age.

the busy-ness of the middle of life.

the transitions from childhood to adulthood (how stretching! how changing!)

and i can only guess it is the same from adulthood to old age.

and the beauty- of all those colors working together to make one unified design.

"That's why we can be so sure that every detail in our lives of love for God is worked into something good. God knew what he was doing from the very beginning."

(Romans 8:28-29, The Message)

it is what it is

this little piece, which hangs in our hallway, is one of my favorite 'stories.'

about six or seven years ago, my friend kelly and i took a road trip to santa fe, new mexico. we borrowed my mom's convertible and enjoyed the sun a little too much. i got a *very* attractive sunburn in the shape of the seat belt across my shoulder on the way down from denver.

i had been to santa fe several times before and had visited the tesuque flea market. i found amazing jewelry there, at a better price than anywhere in town. now, every girl loves finding something unique and well-priced at artsy flea markets, but the setting of this flea market is so unique. picture a backdrop of mountains, pine trees, aspen, and a crystal blue new mexican sky. now imagine a crisp, mountain morning in the summer. dusty gravel on your feet. not to mention, a green chile breakfast burrito in your hand that you can NOT replicate outside the state. i was so impressed, i made sure kelly and i went back.

we arrived ready to seize whatever opportunity would come our way. after sizing up the jewelry, we headed out, each on our own, to see what else we could find. i stumbled into a tent full of what could best be described as 'trash art.' the artist, a forty-something new age hippie, was very friendly. i loved her work- it was colorful, fun, and really affordable. she mostly made scenes and sayings on old spam or sardine cans. what i loved the most was her iridescent paint in coppers and teals on many of her pieces.

instantly, i saw christmas presents...birthday presents...how unique! how clever! i started asking her questions...how did she make these? how did she come across the items she used in each piece? she was very talkative and we had a great time chatting in the sun. when it came around to purchasing, i started figuring out how i could take these home...

"do you take credit cards?"

"no, i find that credit cards are such a hassle."

"oh... that's fine, i have my checkbook- do you take checks?"

"you know, i never really manage to get to the bank."

"oh... well, i only have enough cash to buy one of these. do you have a website?"

"no, i don't have any internet at home."

"what if i sent you an order, would you mail it to me?"

"i've done that before, but i'm really bad about getting things out in time."

"um... okay.... i'll just take this one."

now, what may appear as a letdown, i actually found really charming. this woman was one of the most laid back people i've met. she was so understanding of her own flaws, she just worked around them. since she owned up to them right off the bat, i wasn't left waiting on some package or dealing with some issue later on down the road. she was content to sit in a beautiful place, chat with whoever came by, and maybe sell a piece or two.

i learned such a good lesson that day: to be upfront about who i am and how i work. the following year, i told my students' parents at back-to-school night, "you know, i'm not really good about returning voicemails. my light blinks red, and i don't often see it. i'm much better answering emails, or even visiting in person."

i've said it every year since.

and you know what: i hardly EVER get voice mails. when i do, they often start with, "i know you don't return voice mails, i just wanted you to know...."

now that i think about it, i'm really glad i chose the piece i did. something about her words really fit who she was and what she taught me that day.