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Dirty Laundry Blog by Jennifer Hynes

  • Stretching out Time

    October 29th, 2015

    I walked outside last night after the babies were in bed, dinner was eaten and the kitchen was clean. The sky was dark but clear, The silhouette of the pine trees that have grown so tall since I moved here made me feel like I was somewhere else. Stars sparkled and the moon shown so bright I feared I wouldn’t be able to sleep. The crickets sang thier   symphony and it sounded like happy cats purring. 

    It is still dark now as I sit here in the morning, the stars are still out, the air crisp. I’ve heard little cries from Jack and Fiona through the morning, I’m hoping they’ll get a bit more sleep, it’s still quite early. 

    Last night in the nursery, as I read and told stories Jack and Fiona nodded their heads, gave little smiles, and said “yea” 

    When I asked them, “what can you tell me about this story?” Or “what do you think?” Jack made a little giggle and shook his head, almost like he was being bashful. It seems like they are really enjoying the “story” which is really exciting. It gives me another tool for stretching out time. 

    In my studio yesterday I decided to work on my press. It was a big mess, like it always is my first session. I started getting upset, I hated everything. I had to remind myself it was still a productive day, that it was the process that was important. That I have to work through all the crap, all the mud, all the foggy brain moments to get to a point of clarity. That I wouldn’t learn anything if I played it safe and just made things I knew would “work” that have “worked” before. 

    I’ve also been trying to push myself to work through one large piece. It could come from twenty being ripped up and reconfigured, but I’m trying to add more layers, extend the working time on the piece. Stretch out time. 

    Stretch out time. The sky is still dark, the stars still out. It’s quiet, with the windows closed I can’t hear the hum of the freeway anymore. How can I keep this calm peaceful feeling as the rest of the town wakes up, as I go out into the hustle and bustle of the day? 

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  • A Whisper

    October 27th, 2015

    “Good Morning babies”

    “Mama, bottle”

    “Yes, Here’s your bottle”

    Change diapers, dress in daytime clothes, time to go upstairs for breakfast. This way and that way, they go, separate directions. All I want to do is get upstairs with Jack and Fiona. I pick Fiona up and carry her up the stairs. Jack’s sidetracked, I call him. 

    “Jack!” 

    “Mama”

    “Come on upstairs Jack, time for waffles”

    Finally, both babies are upstairs. I keep my cool. I’m trying to slow down, be in the “moment” notice whats happening in the crevices of time. The parts that get covered with dust, hidden and forgotten. 

    Yesterday I didn’t have much time to work in my studio, not any really. I had a dentist appointment, a meeting  with Fiona’s school, grocery shopping and laundry to do. My mind kept worrying about this so I kept repeating  my Mantra to myself all day,  “just relax, don’t stress, you have time”  I decided to  work  in my studio for a half hour at the end of the day. My goal, make one piece. I did, after ripping and tearing, searching my studio floor for inspiring bits,choosing and assembling, scribbling and painting, I had one. I had one piece, I liked it, I liked where it was/ is taking me. I thought of a whisper as I looked at it. A thought, something from those cracks in the floor boards. 

    I’m trying to find ways to slow down, to not feel rushed. To feel I do have time to whisper a thought. I do have time to get Jack and Fiona from one place to another without loosing my mind in frustration. 

    The leaves are turning and falling, the sky is grey. Things to notice on our way. 

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  • How can something be equally beautiful and sad? 

    October 26th, 2015

    I sat on the deck yesterday evening watching Jack and Fiona get out their last hoorah before bedtime. As I looked at the hillside, between the small Oak and Bay, the hill light brown, the sky pure october blue, “it’s so beautiful” I said, and at the same time I felt a deep penetrating sadness. How can a sight be so beautiful and so very sad at the same time? Is it age and knowledge that creates such contrasting emotions and feelings about things? Is it a psychological affliction I should take medication to nullify?   What did I think about that made me sad at such a happy moment? Global warming? The inevitable death of all of us and everything? I went from the deck to the kitchen, back and forth a few times bringing the babies nighttime snacks,    Cleaning a dish, putting away the leftovers from dinner. I peered out the window to check on the babies. They smiled and looked at me, “maaamaa” 

    “Hi babies” I laughed, then started to tell my story about the night,

    “It’s almost night time now”

    “Whoo whoo” says Jack.

    “Yes, that’s right Jack. The owl will come out when it gets dark”

    “Mama” he says.

    “The sun is down now and the moon is coming up. The birds are going to sleep now, all except the owl, whoo whoo.”

    They laugh.

    ” The racoons, the skunk, and the coyotes will come out. The squirrels will go to sleep, and the stars and the moon will come out”

    The babies listen to me through the screen, they are beginning to love the story. I ‘ve been expanding it every day and Jack seems less and less scared of the dark.  

    I have an image of myself as the babies and I age together, telling the story of the night, as my face fills with wrinkles, as the babies grow long and lean into little kids, my story will grow longer and more elaborate, investigating life under the fallen trees, deep in the oceans, and way up high in the solar system. 

    Maybe the sadness in the beauty comes from the fear of forgetting or not noticing all the nooks and cranies of life, of dying in a blink of an eye, of knowing everything is fleeting and decaying. 

    And maybe since sadness is an equal to beauty and happiness it’s just as important and valuable, even though it’s an uncomfortable feeling.  
     

      

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  • A journal: 20 Days during the Pandemic. Getting back in the studio. Daily Writing and Studio Practice September 21st to October 10th 2020.
  • Blog
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  • Random Tips for twin parents

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