It was incredibly fun to create this calendar with Judy Tollefson (in Maine) using “the cloud” . . . I’m in Pennsylvania using Wuala software.
We were fast friends, had an explosive misunderstanding/falling-out, and were unable to talk to each other for 16 years. That we have been able to reconnect and weave this calendar together of my paintings and Judy’s drawings is nothing short of miraculous. We hope you will take a look and share our delight.
It will be available to purchase online shortly for $25 (or 3 for $60). Watch for it at: www.judyscolors.com
Makes a fun gift...
We are celebrating the production of a 2013 graphic artist’s dream CALENDAR designed by and featuring the art of Meredith Mustard & Judy Tollefson.
We (Meredith and Judy) were fast friends, had an explosive misunderstanding/falling-out, and were unable to talk to each other for 16 years. That we have been able to reconnect and put this calendar together (of Meredith’s paintings and Judy’s drawings) is nothing short of miraculous. We hope you will take a look and share our delight. The calendar as well as beautiful knitted christmas stockings, fun earrings, paintings, and calligraphy will be available for sale.
We will provide an opportunity for you to make gifts with your children and learn a valuable parenting skill: How to encourage your child with words that build self-esteem.
The sale will benefit Harambee Arts and Heifer International.
Save the dates: December 8th & 9th 2013
In Terry Tempest William’s most recent
book, When Women Were Birds, she explores
the mystery her mother left her when she died …
“My mother had left me her journals, and all her journals were blank. I had hoped to find her deepest thoughts, her dreams, her struggles, alongside her wisdom. What she left me were her silences.”
What is written in the silent pages of your life?
What are the thoughts, hopes and dreams that have never fully taken shape or been heard outside the silent chambers of your mind? What are the struggles, fears and wisdom that you have never voiced? What are your unique brilliancies – your gifts to share with the world?
Finding Your Voice: A Journey of Knowing
& Becoming Your True Self is an opportunity
to join with other women who are seeking…
seeking to know and become their true selves.
A journey in two parts…
A One Day Retreat: Sunday, October 28, 2012 Time: 9:00 am – 4:00 pm Location: 524 Sproul Road, Villanova, PA
Six Weekly Sojourns: Tuesday evenings November 6, 13, 20, 27 and December 4 & 11 Time: 7:00 – 9:30 pm
To get more information about the workshop and how to enroll click here…
Finding Your Voice flyer
A friend shared this story with me: Terry was visiting her friend who has six children. We both marveled at a mom who could raise six children and maintain a sense of humor. Terry was chatting with her friend in the kitchen. They went together to check on the children in another room. The thirteen year-old-son was charged with watching his baby sister. When the moms walked into the room they saw the bare-bottomed baby propped in an upholstered chair watching the big kids play. The baby had wet the chair. Terry was horrified at the sight of the urine-soaked chair. The mom on the other hand laughed. Then with a chuckle she corrected the teenager, saying, “Oh, honey you need to keep a diaper on the baby.” No drama no trauma. The son laughed too and then took the baby to diaper her.
Here is my story: My adopted son who was about 9 years old, had a habit of stealthily approaching us when we were absorbed in some activity. If I happened to catch sight of him and acknowledged his presence, I aroused his anger. If on the other hand, I didn’t notice he was hiding nearby, he became angry because I wasn’t making an effort to find him. Either way I felt caught in a no-win situation.
A few weeks later. . .
I invited my son to accompany me into the garden one early summer evening to pick snap peas by flashlight. At first, I thought he would join me, but he refused. I ambled out to pick peas by myself. I got busy working my way down the row. Balancing my bucket and flashlight and pinching peas off the vine I heard a muffled sound and looked up. I called to my son, thinking he might have changed his mind. No answer. I resumed my task and when I finished I headed for the gate. Again I heard rustling nearby. I thought I saw a flash of light and called to my son again. Still no response. By now I was pretty sure he was in the garden not wanting to be seen and yet wanting me to discover him. I was getting annoyed. I barked at him, “Don’t be tromping around in the garden in the dark. You are trampling the fragile baby plants!” With that he exploded and stomped out of the garden.
The next day he informed me that he didn’t step on any baby plants because even in the dark he could see the pattern in the straw mulch and he walked between the plants. It suddenly struck me that HE is my fragile baby plant and I need to take care not to step on him.