“Oh my gosh” I say, I’m putting the Turkey dinner in the microwave, I see something. On the glass rotating tray that looks like baby poop. How did baby poop get in the microwave? I pull the tray out. I realize its refried beans from the microwave burrito I scarfed for lunch. It’s a no nap day. I try, but Fiona won’t go to sleep and she wakes Jack up. No break for me. “Bock, Bock Bock Bock, we’re going to see baby chickens today!” I say as I take Jack and Fiona out of their play and packs, change their diapers and make them a quesadilla. (Yes all at the same time. I’m SUPER MOM! ) We get to China’s house. “Hi! Look babies its China.” The babies are very happy to see her, she lives on a flat lot with a gate so we’re able to set the babies free. China has two baby chickens. We keep reminding Jack and to Fiona be gentle, Jack wants to grab the chicken. I’m scared he’s going to hurt one. Fiona is a bit gentler. I’m feeling relaxed and happy hanging out with China, the babies feel the same way. They fall asleep on the way home, Fiona has a smile on her face. I park in the garage thinking they will take a long nap. I can get some studio time and eat lunch. No, they wake up soon after that thought. We take Billy for her walk, work on coloring, and continue the evening as we usually do, dinner, bath, bottle, cuddling, bed. It’s my favorite time of the day. It’s gentle and sweet, quiet with dim lit lights. The nursery is soft with rugs, a futon without the frame, stuffed animals, and books to read. I love holding the babies after their bath when they are nice and clean. I did have some time to paint in the morning. I’m inspired again by the old pictures, the mood, thinking of disappearance. My mom was an only child, the solitary image influences me. They are about being a girl, being a woman, femininity.
Category: Art and finding balance
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“Time to go for a walk babies, do you want to take Billy for a walk?” I say. We just finished eating pasta for dinner, “This is how we wash our face, wash our face, wash our face, this is how we wash our face early in the evening.” I sing as I clean Jack and Fiona’s spaghetti sauce faces. I do a good enough job, grab both babies out of their high chairs, and carry them down the stairs, Jack slipping out of my arm, I make it to the bottom without dropping one, set them both down. I open the door to the garage, “Look Daddy’s home.” I say. Alan is putting out the trash. Jack and Fiona scurry around the garage, touching things they shouldn’t touch, playing with a half put together toy dump truck we got for their birthday. (Alan put the wrong screw in one of the wheels, it’s kinda messed up) I go grab Billy, she’s shedding like crazy, big clumps of hair. When I bring her down Alan has Jack and Fiona in the B.O.B. for me. “You guys need to learn how to do this” I say as I brush some of the clumps of hair off Billy. I imagine Jack and Fiona brushing Billy, loving her, taking care of her. She’ll probably be dead though before any of that actually happens. First we walk down the hill, “Billy’s sniffing, she loves to sniff, come on Billy, whoa!” she stops and pulls me backwards, “Billy, come on, you’re not going to pull me backwards on hills today, LET’S Go Girl!” I say. “Look at the trees guys, oh my god it’s going to be a bad night for pollen, can you feel the pollen in the air?” I say. Past the playground, is it really that bad? I really like the big Oak Tree. Up the next hill I’m laughing out loud. Smiling, thinking am I crazy? Crazy happy? Why do I have so much energy tonight? I imagine People think I’m crazy when they hear me talking and laughing while walking Billy and the babies. Before the babies came Alan used to always tell me, “Stop talking to yourself.” Now technically I’m not talking to myself, I’m talking to Jack and Fiona. I’ve always talked to my dogs. It’s natural. “Do you see the trees? The half-moon in the sky? The single dove on the telephone pole? Look at this pinecone. The sun, no wait the sun is already down. Babies, the sun is already down, but we’re lucky, we’ll make it home before dark. Oh my gosh, what if today was the last day we saw the sun? We had a good day at the park so I guess it would be O.K.” I think about it, the last day, that day will come. My new motto is “Keep on Movin’ Keep on Groovin’. Keep the wheels turning, that kind of thing. Yesterday it happened again, I got the babies down for their nap. I had to give them a bath first because I don’t use wipes at the park. They had dirt on their legs, food on their faces, just messy! I watched the other moms at the park wiping the hands and faces of their babies several times. Sometimes thoughts will appear in my mind, “Do they think I’m a slob? I’m really dirty?” Even Alan has made comments after meals that I haven’t cleaned their faces good and they are going to break out. Interesting huh? I wonder why people are so into cleanliness. Anyhow the babies were taking their nap, I had all my workout clothes on the floor because I was going to go through them and turn some into painting rags. I had to tell myself, “Just do it really fast” and I did. But then I came upstairs to get some water, I had decided I NEEDED to go to my studio and paint for a minute. Kaboom! The kitchen is a complete disaster, after the park I brought everything up and set it on the center Island. I find myself walking around in circles picking up stuff, putting things in the sink, in the fridge, in new piles of like items. “STOP!” I say to myself. “Grab the baby monitor and water and Go to your studio!” I can finish cleaning later. I get into my studio. I’m feeling super inspired again, is it the babies? Their passion for life? I don’t know but I’m feeling freedom. I paint fast and into new territories. I’m excited by the drawing I’m doing, the unconscious feeling I have when I paint with my few remaining usable paintbrushes, the palette I’m using. The colors show up in my mind, I mix them. The restraint I am commanding to not over work every single piece. Although I have a huge pile of overworked pieces. Its 5:30, I can’t believe the babies have slept so long. I finish up in my studio and go inside. All is quiet, but I realize I had the wrong baby monitor. Oh well, they needed that rest and I needed to work in my studio no matter what.
I hear the babies waking now. It’s 7:21 A.M. Friday morning. Linda from Early Start is coming at 8:00 to work with Fiona. I’m excited, it’s been a few weeks and I feel Fiona is doing really well. Last night in the stroller she was saying “Mama” It sounded so cute. She’s months behind Jack, he’s starting to make some very interesting sound combinations, I had dreams two nights in a row he was talking to me. Fiona will catch up, in time. I better go get the babies now and get dressed myself.
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I am developing a relationship with line. I’ve been working on this for a long time. I used to be free with my use of line, I was fearless. Somewhere along the way I started hating my lines. I didn’t want any to show in the final piece. I would cover everything up. Most of the time leaving a muddy mess. I’ve been working on restraint. I make a mark and leave it. I work on several at a time, going back and forth between them responding to the marks I’ve made. Yesterday I had two sessions in my studio. I was about to clean the kitchen while the babies took their nap. But I got the urge to go throw some paint around. I started with ink, drawing with my bamboo pen. Ink on my fingers. Adding watercolor, collage, and acrylic. I stand back to look. The work I’m doing excites me. Maybe I’ve gone too far already though. No time to sit and mull, I hear Jack and Fiona on the monitor, nap time is over. We eat our Burmese chicken soup with noodles and egg for lunch. It’s enough for all three of us. I clean the kitchen, scrubbing every inch of counter, trying to get rid of clutter. We take Billy for a stroller walk, it’s still humid. I’m sweating. Ramona is here now. I hand over Jack and Fiona. I’ve got more chores to do. I tackle my closet, it’s been weighing on me for a while now. I work for two hours cleaning, purging, and going to the bank. I have a little time left to work in my studio. I go in, it’s quiet. I put away the pieces from earlier. I prepare my paper. I decide to start with watercolor. Black, I use a small brush. I sweep the brush across the paper making imagery that comes from deep inside. I like what is happening. “USE RESTRAINT.” I say. “Trust yourself.” I say. I add collage, acrylic, and ink. “Why isn’t my mom here?” I ask. She would understand what I’m doing. We could talk about it, talk about painting, use of line and mixed media. We could talk about abstract art and go see shows. I can only speak to her this way. I can imagine what she’d say, what she’d like. It’s impossible to work in my studio without these thoughts. I’ve drank my whole French press of coffee again today. I think I might bring the babies into the studio to paint today. I’m really tired though, I woke up at 3 am with violent allergies. I didn’t get much sleep last night. I feel like the purging helped my work yesterday.
Dirty Laundry Blog by Jennifer Hynes 