When I was a little girl I used to make books to give my family for Christmas.
It made me feel alive, this way of putting my love onto paper with crayons and pencil
and binding together simple books with staples or yard to say a fountain of love
and I see you and you have me always on your side.
To share what I felt and saw and hoped and held dear.
I remember feeling that if I put my whole heart into it, then I’d have nothing to regret.
Then I could lose the fear that my voice would get snatched and leave my life unsaid.
I remember wanting so hard to say the things, to give my heart,
to hold hands with both heaven and earth and tug the veil thin
so that the light that I heard, the music and motion,
might warm some cold places when a chill set in.
I dreamed to paint the beauty that I felt.
It’s taken me a lifetime to become like a child again,
my work-worn hands itching to make words on paper still, but how?
Well this year life made a way, slowed down, and threw me a line
and I grabbed hold and started birthing something been long brewing in my heart.
Something I can offer up tangible, like a fireside built, where we can gather peaceful
and soak in the warmth and let it serve up some balm
that I hope may nudge breath back into hope gone tired
or burned right down to the nub.
Some of the words and images you’ve met here before,
served up fresh and easy to gift;
others are new offerings carved in the dirt of this challenging year.
I’ve felt them in my parts and prayers, the hurting hearts all around,
and I sensed it strong to dive deep, drawing up some singing water to share,
stringing together words and making art
because it seemed the only way I knew to get my hands messy and do something
to help light candles in the dark.
This book-making thing was way harder than I dreamed
and yet Grace showed up and did what she does
when you can’t muster the gumption but you take another tiny step anyway,
and somehow you’re swept jagged into holy current
even as your bum bruises sharp on the rocks,
and you arrive sputtering
to offer up
in your hands
Offering it to you now
with tired and giddy hands
because I really, really want to tell you something good.
Pre-orders available now on my new website now.
“Love is or it ain’t.
Thin love ain’t no love at all.”
Congratulations to Cathy Burns – we drew your name!
I’ll be sending you an art journal I made. With a whole lot of love:)
This week I’d like to gift one of my books – it will come right to your door
hopefully the second week of December.
(This thing was born to be a Christmas present:))
Leave a comment and your name goes in the hat!