Doing The New Banner Boogie

What do you think of my new shop banner?

I know it's just an ink sketch, but I plan to buy a little canvas and get my monotone swirl on with this basic design concept.

This works for now, though and I feel like it's better than my old one- it always made me a little sad, because it featured a painting I made a while back that I really loved... that I sold.

Yay!

(and sigh.)

I was really tempted to leave the old banner up, and put off installing the new one until I had a more polished piece, but like my catalyst agent buddy warns, I don't want to

ruin good with perfect.

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Elsie took an extra long nap this afternoon, so I got a little editing done.

This is a slightly more finished version:

What do you think?

Writing this counts as action!

If you look to the right side of the screen, you'll see a list called

"Blogs I Actually Read".

A more accurate title would be

Blogs I Can't Wait To Read

because the second one of these is updated I can't help but pounce on their site. Long time followers of this here lil old blog may (or may not) notice that there have been some changes to that list recently.

For one, I removed the Blog of Paul Kyser. After two years of hoping his link would read "Updated yesterday" I finally had to give up. After confirming the death of the blog with the author himself, of course, just to make aaaaaabbbbsolutely certain that the day after I deleted my link and never ever ever went back there ever again, that he does, in fact, have no intention whatsoever of writing there again in the near future.

Also, you'll notice a few additions- there's the blog of my good friend, Elsie's fairy godmother, Skye. Her blog is called Life Is A Carnival. It doesn't always get updated often, but when it does, it's always worth the read. (Elsie looks pretty comfy on Skye's lap. Little Awesome looks like he's about to grab some baby toes!)

And then there's her husband, Da Godfatha, (That's an ItalianAmerican accent there- did you get it?) with his better business blog, aptly titled

A Better Way of Business | Showing businesses and people a better way. I think the name says it all. Yesterday, we had our first meeting about how to get my business going. really going. So now I have about 100 hours of homework, which I'll try to squeeze into Elsie's two nap times a day. I think if I really follow his advice I can turn "Oh wow! I got a sale today" into "Oh wow! I got soooo many sales today!"

It's going to take a lot of hard work, a lot of not watching t.v., and maybe a little help/patience from Dr A, but more than anything, like Ivan says, it's going to take

ACTION.

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If you're reading this and you have a blog, leave a comment and we can link to each others' blog- building an encouraging community is on my list of actions I'm working on!

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If you don't like hearing me talk about businessy stuff and only like the baby stuff b/i/s. They've really got me pumped about getting this art show on the road. Also, don't worry, I plan to keep this blog mostly cute and cuddly and keep 99% of the art stuff elsewhere.

LoveAboveAll now has a Facebook Fan page!

	LoveAboveAll is about seeking out what/who/where you love. It's about putting that love first, above all else.

LoveAboveAll began in May of 2008 when artist La Sha Ackerman realized she had more art than she could possibly hang. The call to create is a passionate love which refuses to relent. It is a hurricane of the brain that leaves behind a trail of beauty, exalting that which is most loved in life- beauty, travel, friends, music, and the magic in every day life. And labradors. Cause they're awesome.

LoveAboveAll is the studio name of Georgia native, former ex-patriot, chronic traveler, wife, baby-maker, book-reader, harp-player, painter, Jesus-follower, and tomato-grower La Sha Ackerman. Click here to become a fan!

Grandpa Claus Brought Christmas in July

This is what a lucky little girl looks like: If you were to describe Santa to Elsie, she would probably be all, "dude, I totally know that guy! We eat dinner together once a week, and he never minds when I drool on him- he's my grandpa!"

(If she could talk, that is).

Last week my parents took the tiny Miss A on a toy shopping spree, which resulted in her getting pretty much one of everything marked "6 months+".

Her little world has never been so musical and bright.

Two Tacky Mamas #1

Long ago

In a galaxy far far away

Two uniquely fashionable women tried on hideous clothes,

laughed till they almost peed their (high-water parachute) pants,

strategized how to improve said hideous clothes,

and talked about starting a blog on the topic

(which, for the time being, will just be incorporated into this here old blog I've been writing for years)

And so, without further ado, I bring you the very first installment of

Two Tacky Mamas

Episode #1: The Case of the 1990's Maternity Dress of Horror

Mrs A pulled thousands of feet of velvet trimmed denim from a box of hand-me-downs.

"Holy-mother-of-all-PTA-moms!" Mama D exclaimed.

At first glance it seemed as if Mrs A was holding a denim bed sheet, but if you stood back a few feet and let your eyes carefully refocus, it became apparent that the king-size bed sheet was in fact a dress.

A maternity dress.

From the 90's.

It was a sartorial black hole capable of completely sucking you in,

and crushing you with such copious denim,

and a velvet collar,

and velvet cuffs,

oh my.

Mrs A took a deep breath, wrestled the beast to the ground, and cut off the menacing crushed velvet bits-

veritably chopping the the sleeves in half.

Then, in order to give her ankles some breathing room, she cut off about a thousand inches of fabric, to give the creature that now more closely resembled a dress a more fashionable hem-line.

Next, where once lived a massive heavy black velvet collar, now was just a savage raw cut, which Mrs A neatly turned rolled and hemmed.

The same treatment went to the fray-full sawed off sleeves, which were then folded to above the elbow.

Then the tiny princess woke up from her tiny nap, signaling the end of Mrs A's crafty time, and the beginning of dinner time. So Mrs A donned the now streamlined carcass of the 90's nightmare and enjoyed some time grilling on the deck.

And they all lived (and dressed) happily ever after.

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If you'd like to see The Ackermans in some photos that are actually decent for a change, go here, 'Like' Swell Studio's page and then vote for us by Liking the pic of us you see there. Since either Dr or Mrs A are almost always the one behind the camera, there are virtually no good pictures of them together with tiny miss A, so winning this would be a real treat!

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Your turn Mama D!

The past five months

I haven't really been writing for the past five months.

I've been a little busy.

These past five months have been

the most exhausting

the messiest

the snuggliest

the loudest

the kissiest

The happiest months of my life!

The Best Thing In The World:

The best thing in the world is

holding you in my arms

when you smile in your sleep

how you laugh when I tickle your tummy

the way you smell when I kiss you goodnight

how happy you are when you bounce in your jumperoo

watching you sleep in your little swing a few feet away while I write this

The best thing in the world is:

you.

On and on and on

Dear Little Daughter of Mine,

You have the best of everything waiting for you:

a super loving family

the coolest of baby toys

the gentlest pets

a closet full of the cutest clothes

hand-stitched quilts and hello kitties

and everything else a little girl could ask for.

So come on out whenever you're ready cause your due date has come and gone, and I can't wait to hold you in my arms.

Love,

Mom

P.S. If you ever wonder if your dad loves you- know this: he read the instructions. For you, the knowing-it-all-est man alive followed all the directions in the manual for putting together your things to make absolutely certain he put everything together just right to protect your tiny toes and fingers. That's looooove.

On Names

Almost none of my paintings have proper names, so I end up referring to them by the subject followed by the medium, but this one has a name

 (because Peter named it): 

The Creepy Tree I don't really think it's that creepy though. I suppose if I'd used a different color scheme it would have conveyed an entirely different sentiment while still expressing a complicated/solitary subject.

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If a pregnant woman tells you what she has decided will definitely be her child's name, please, for the love of all that is rolly, DON"T proceed to tell her about everyone you know with the same name, what you think of all those name-sharing folks, every possible nickname and how you think it should be spelled.   Sure, outwardly the pregnant woman might smile and nod and say "how interesting" but inside she is a bear and you are a hiker with a backpack full of granola and honey.

On the phone

I recently googled "What I wish someone had told me before I went into labor" hoping to find some nugget of knowledge that would help me in some way. Unfortunately, all I found was trivia that, well, lets face it, the moms who'd written really SHOULD have already known. Come on, people- you have 9 months to read up on this stuff!

Something I would like to share with the general pregnant population is this:

Turn off your cell phone,

because, in your last week your phone will look like this: and every message/ call will be the exact same, and you will want to, but not be able to, say the exact same things over and over and over:

Hiiii! Have you had the baby yet? 

Nope, not yet

How are you feeling?

Awesome, thanks! (aside from the excruciating back pain, swollen feet, nausea, headaches and insomnia)

What did your doctor say?

She'll be born when she's ready. (Actually, that's a summation of a twenty minute conversation about my cervix).

Anything I can do to help out?

Nope, we're completely ready, when she is. (But feel free to come over and cook dinner without judging me for wearing the hideous pineapple print housedress I bought in the caribbean for about the millionth day in a row.)

Well, make sure you call me when you go into labor!

Absolutely! (Because I definitely want to be annoyed when I'm trying to have a baby).

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So, really, the bottom line is, turn off your cell phone during the last week of pregnancy. You'll avoid a whole bunch of aggravation, and you won't feel compelled to return the gazillion missed calls/ messages because really, the people who call during that last week can be split into two groups: and those who really need to talk to you will find other ways that doesn't involve driving you crazy.

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 I don't know if this is how it is for everyone, but Pregnancy week #40 finds me exhausted, in pain, swollen from head to toes, and just generally super duper cranky. Why do so many people want to chat with such a miserable creature? 

On 127 Hours

This past weekend I went with The Ackerkids to see 127 Hours- the true story about Aron Ralston, the hiker who had to cut off his arm to save his life.

I have to admit to liking it much more than I thought I would.

To me, it served as reminder of the strength of the human spirit.

We are capable of so much more than we give ourselves credit for.

What's more amazing to me, than his acurrately assessing the situation as do (cut off his arm) or die and taking the extreme measures he did, was his life after the accident.

You should go see the movie to see what I mean, but trust,

it's joyous.

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A lot of times when I see a movie and it has cussing in it, I think "Was that really neccessary?" Because a lot of movies could be enjoyed by younger audiences if only the language weren't so vulgar. But after watching 127 Hours I can't help but think that if it were the true story of La Sha Ackerman being stuck under a rock for almost a week that it would have waaaay more expletives. Seriously, you'd only be able to show it in movie theaters in Las Vegas after 11:00.

On Stuff On My Husband

In a lot of homes The Man gets the best seat in the house.

In our home Dr A. apparently is the best seat in the house. 

On Napping and Nesting

Last year I was living in NYC and went to work in a foot of snow.

This year I'm living in Georgia and four measly inches of the white stuff has had everyone snowed in.

Even if you have the gumption to crank up your four wheel drive and get out on the completely unplowed and unsalted roads, there is nowhere to go because everything is closed.

It has been awesome having a few days to enjoy just spending time with my husband and indulging the increasingly overwhelming nesting instinct.

Never before have I felt the need to use every single attachment that came with my vacuum cleaner; but suddenly I find it imperative that all intake and outtake vents in the house be vacuumed thoroughly, all ceiling corners be inspected and deemed spider web-less,  and you know that super skinny attachment?

You can use it to get all the dust out from the area UNDER the television.

 I know Dr A., lover of glass topped desks and 90 degree angles, is certainly enjoying this new trend, even if it does mean being asked to heft heavy things all over the house. 

 On the flip side, though, being trapped in the house for four days straight with an extremely pregnant lady exposes him to all sorts of things he'd probably be able to avoid if only he were at work. 

For example I can't hide my narcolepsy from him if he's going to be home all day.

Since I only get about 3 hours of sleep during the night these days due to constantly being woken up by the extreme urge to pee combined with a routine of 4 am nausea and just a general running wild of the mind when everything is still and quiet, I find taking a hundred little naps during the day essential to normal functioning.

(Don't ask me how I get through work days. It generally involves a lot of tongue-biting and by the end of the day an inability to see straight).

Lately my routine has become sort of...

Wake up, eat breakfast, nap, take a shower, nap, check e-mails and Etsy sales, nap, wash laundry, nap, start folding the newly cleaned laundry but then fall asleep on the couch sitting up with the tv on because the clothes are warm and smell good and unintentionally spend the rest of the day there, until someone calls or rings the door bell or until a tiny uterus dwelling creature decides its time to give the old bladder a kick.

 Also, since we've both been home... together... all day... for days now, when normally neither of us would be here, our house has taken up a new motto. Actually I guess it's more of a mantra, since it's less of a credo and just something that has become a repeated statement within our household micro-society: 

"I was going to eat that!"  

Whether it's the lone orange straggling in the produce drawer or the bottom of a jar of mayo- nothing is exempt as a cause to exert the decree of an intention of being consumed by one or (usually) both parties.

Let's hope tomorrow is sunny!  

Meditation and Creation: Week 37

For You formed my inward parts; You wove me in my mother's womb. I will give thanks to You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Wonderful are Your works, And my soul knows it very well. My frame was not hidden from You, When I was made in secret, And skillfully wrought in the depths of the earth; Your eyes have seen my unformed substance; And in Your book were all written The days that were ordained for me, When as yet there was not one of them. ~ Psalm 139:13-16

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Before I sit down in front of the easel 

before I ever open a tube of paint 

before I even buy the sheet of canvas

I know what I'm going to create.

I can close my eyes and see it.

Finished.

Framed.

Often times the painting takes turns and twists along the road to completion and becomes something different than I had intended, but paint never touches brush until it has a destination.

 As the day that I'll get to meet my daughter draws nearer and nearer I can close my eyes and imagine what she'll look like- this ultimate creation of my life- and speculate on what personality traits she may inherit, but ultimately, her finished and framed life is as much a mystery to me as it will be to her. The best I can hope for is to nurture the joy that revealing the mysteries can bring. From the day she discovers her tiny little toes to the day she discovers her true love and beyond; what she uses this pre-ordained canvas for will be incredibly, and uniquely, her own to reveal. 

Home sweet home

Oh the weather outside is frightful,

but teh fires iz so deliteful

Cats know that the sole reason you split firewood, vacuum the floor, wash the pillows and build a fire is to appease your bitey overlord.

Be Thou My Vision

Be Thou My Vision

Ancient Irish hymn, possibly from the 8th Century, tr. by Mary E. Byrne

Be Thou my vision, O Lord of my heart; Naught be all else to me, save that Thou art. Thou my best thought, by day or by night, Waking or sleeping, Thy presence my light.

2. Be Thou my Wisdom, Thou my true Word; I ever with Thee, Thou with me, Lord; Thou my great Father, I thy true son; Thou in me dwelling, and I with Thee one.

3. Be Thou my battle-shield, sword for my fight, Be Thou my dignity, Thou my delight. Thou my soul's shelter, Thou my high tower. Raise Thou me heavenward, O Power of my power.

4. Riches I heed not, nor man's empty praise, Thou mine inheritance, now and always: Thou and Thou only, first in my heart, High King of heaven, my Treasure Thou art.

5. High King of heaven, my victory won, May I reach heaven's joys, O bright heav'ns Son! Heart of my own heart, whatever befall, Still be my vision, O ruler of all.

 Lol Pretty Purple was sliding away from me the whole time- I should've picked a less slippery chair!

  

Art aRt arT

Say you're looking for some art, like the kind made of paint and dreams. and animals. Then you should probably go here:

www.thelifeartistic.webs.com

Five and a half months

What does being 22 weeks pregnant mean?

Today it means trying on all the clothes I own and realizing

I own 12 pairs of jeans/ khakis 

Approximately 4 of them will still pull up over my hips.

Exactly none of them will zip up or button.

I think it's time to go shopping.

Thank heaven for stretch pants, or I'd have to go to the store half nude.

 and thank heavens for Dale Evans

This is the song I find stuck in my head every time I go shopping.

Also, singing cowboys make my day.

Secrets of the circus tent

Peter and I don't have many "couple friends"

I suspect it's because we're odd folks on a life track most people have a hard time keeping up with.

We are a couple on wheels (Lord knows I was born with mine) always on the go,

always willing to follow the arrows that point the way to dreams,

where ever they take us,

because, no matter what, everything is held together by faith,

and we always get by.

We do what we have to, and blow kisses to our past as we wave goodbye

again and again

and move on to the next part of our lives

with only each other in tow.

UNTIL NOW

because in a few months our traveling circus will gain a tiny magician.

and until her grand magical appearing act we're hunkering down in a North Georgia town that is positively crawling with relatives, and old friends. 

It's the only place I know where she could get the welcome he deserves. 

Until that day, all I can do is try not to worry, and instead choose to wonder

Will she be blond like his dad or brunette like me?

Will she have big dark eyes, or Peter's gold flecked blues? 

Since I'm always cold and Peter's always hot, will she be juuusst right?

Only a few things can be known for sure-

as sure as the sun rises in the East she'll be born with wheels, always rolling alongside, as we continue this journey Peter and I set out on when we were still kids ourselves. 

She will be pale pale pale.

and finally, and most importantly

She will be insanely ridiculously intensely completely

loved

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Below is a repost of one of my favorite posts ever. I don't generally repost, but given the current situation certain things could use reiterating:

Dr and Mrs A

-married 6 7 years

-moved 7 (soon to be 8) 8 times

-survived high school

-survived undergrad

-survived medical school

- said "adios!" to 99% of our earthly possessions twice

-survived fast food jobs, night shift jobs, ultra-demanding overtime-all-the-time jobs and life without jobs

-survived living in a foreign country

-survived trying to restore an old as dirt cottage

-Survived living in a teeeeny tiny Caribbean apartment, and an even tinier one in NYC

- survived 1000 pointless fights

- and 100000 odious puns

- has taken hundreds of walks with our pup

Even though....

-He's science... ...and I'm art

-He's digitally generated compositions and I'm folk

- he's video games and I'm crosswords

-because after almost a decade of hanging out together we still both think the other is cool and fun and interesting

-because we have a strong mutually shared belief system

-because when one of us is all "this sucks and I can't stand it" the other is always "it's going to be ok! We'll be fine without any of our stuff/living a million miles from home/ after we bury the dead cat/ completely broke/ with no privacy. We'll get through it."

-Because we know God won't give us more than we can handle.

- Because at this point we're fairly used to living by the skin of our teeth

Because we're awesome

One more day up in the canyon.

"I always heard the best delies are in the lower east side, and theres a store that sells nothing but gourmet homemade pickles, too."  

"Sweet! I love homemade pickles. Lets go there for lunch!"

"Nah, I never could find it."

"Why don't you just Google it?"

"Because there is absolutely no way I'm going to Google 'pickle store'."

I think, of all the gazillions of pictures I have, this one sums up Peter and La Sha the best.

So much is going on right now, I don't even know where to begin.

Ironically, right now I have more blog posts than ever, yet am posting at almost my slowest rate ever.

I am a busy and excruciatingly tired lady.

In a couple of weeks there'll probably be a blogsplosion of wordiness.

I've been working on a series of essays that I'm tentatively calling "Things I Swore I'd Never Blog About". Tantalizing, n'est pas?

Also, I've pretty much finished up the Fierce Flora series. Unfortunately, plastic wrap and cardboard is safely secured around all the vines and blossoms, and they probably won't be making their debut for a few weeks.

I've got lots of NYC pictures dragging along too, that I'll get to posting sometime. Though I could be living in Timbuktu by the time I feel caught up.

 Caught up- isn't that a nice thought.  

 Speaking of feelings and not-sureness, I've been ultra-contemplative lately and I can't quiet put my finger on how I feel about NYC. It's a place I simultaneously never want to spend another day in and that I never want to leave. There's a mixture of regret when thinking of it in the rearview and joy in looking ahead. It's a place that has so much more to offer a creative young lady than anywhere else on this planet, and I can't help but feel like I never made the most of it. Surviving takes so much effort that looking up and making the most of the opportunities that may be waiting for you seems like an option best put off till tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow. Was a big break waiting for me, but I was just too busy, too tired, too frazzled to notice? I'll never know- that's the stinger on the hornet of regret.  

The only thing to do is to look ahead, because I have no doubt that what waits in the future is more amazing than everything in the past.

 Even though it's September, there's an air of New Years Eve hanging around. The Christmas-esque frenzy of deciding what I really want (to keep, to do) is over and now I can enjoy a couple days merriment. Starting over (yet again)- I want this year to be full of intention (even if it isn't really a new year). And like on the precipice of every New Year, resolutions abound:

Be more focused.

Live more simply.

Work less.

Ignore everything and everyone that adds stress.

But more than anything- to just SLOOOW DOWN.

I have so much to not do, and I can't wait till I can get started not doing it. Until then, I just have to make it through this long faux December.

 

"... a lot of oysters, but no pearls."

Yep, that pretty much sums up my NYC experience.