Being born in 1980, the Star Wars Trilogy was my childhood. So much or our play was built around its worlds. My brother Nick, whom I adored and idolized, had the figurines, the AT-AT, and the Millennium Falcon. We watched the movies on repeat in our neighbor's basement while we built with Legos. Neighbor Timmy nicknamed the movies "Spaceships and Monsters," and for me, that about sums it up. The whole Hero's Journey ala Joseph Campbell never landed. We'd take turns voting on which episode to watch--"the one with Ewoks or the one with the ice planet?" I knew the movies' details, their settings, and their general plots, but I never really connected with them in the way that many fans have. I still don't. My heart warms to the original trilogy more because it reminds me of my brother who is a super fan, and of how we'd lay on my bed looking upside down through the window on snowy nights pretending we were on a spaceships flying through the stars at hyper speed. (There. See that! I don't even know if hyper speed is a Star Wars thing or not. Please don't let me know either. I like mystery. I do know about ludicrous speed, though. )
Years later, as a young adult, I didn't care much for young Anakin, the problematic Jar Jar Binks, or the stupefying politics that drowned Episodes I through III. I don't remember much of those movies except for holding hands with my then boyfriend, now husband, while watching the Gungans move about their watery world. You could say, I very literally fell in love while watching Episode I--with Patrick, not the movie!
In fact, I really didn't absorb Star Wars until I had Abraham. When Abe was about four, I remember asking a neighbor, a mother of two young boys, when she thought the appropriate age was to watch Star Wars. She sighed and rolled her eyes, remarking that once you go down that rabbit hole you can never return. She was right. He was hooked, and I was able to reengage with the series, even with young Anakin, through Abe's enjoyment of the series.
Then, a couple of years ago, lying in a cushy, barcalounger at the movie theater, with my daughter Penelope on my lap, I found myself riveted and crying. This -- this Star Wars, Episode VII, was for me. This Star Wars about a resourceful heroine, who was better at saving than being saved, was thrilling. I finally understood the buzz over Star Wars on a personal level and was so excited that my daughter may have a chance at adoring it the same way that my son did. (I realize there are plenty of women/girls who enjoyed all the other previous episodes. Just speaking for myself).
This Friday, we are planning to see Episode VIII as a family. I have that slight dread in my stomach that is familiar to most super fans when sequels are released. "Is it going to disappoint?" we ask as we hope that our beloved movie survives studio politics and directors who might be playing it safe. I'm hoping for a good story that thrills and inspires and to share in its excitement with my kids and my husband. Maybe I'll even get to hold hands.
"The towels are ready! The towels are ready!" said an imaginary Paul Revere, who is galloping around Spring Bird shouting at all who may have a pile of dirty dishes in their sink. No, it's been a busy week of prepping orders, painting ornaments, and making towels. For those of you who have ordered the Total Package of Woolgathering, your towels are on their way to you, and for those of you who have just ordered towels separately, ditto! For those of you who may be interested in ordering towels, check them out here or here. I enjoyed tie-dying these towels with a square motif and block printing Spring Bird birds for applique. Because of their handmade nature, each towel is unique and one-of-a-kind!
I feel like a miniature Paul Revere is constantly galloping in my brain reminding me of the odds and ends that must be achieved during this busy season, but there have been some moments of peace amid the hectic buzz. We've had our first snow falls at Spring Bird, and I didn't realize how much I'd missed the snow. The bareness, the white, and the crisp air erase the merry madness. We've had some close encounters with the most relaxed deer that make us smile and assume a contented gaze. And as needles drop like lemmings from a cliff, from our bundle of Spruce limbs that serves as our Christmas tree, we soak up the sun, unfettered by leaves, that pours through the windows. I hope that you can find moments of stillness and calmness despite everything else that pulls at your attention. I give you permission to disengage and ignore that thing that you feel obligated to do but really don't want to do. Instead, go for a walk, stare at some fat squirrels, or smell a snow storm coming. T'is the season. You're welcome!
I'm feeling very grateful after a wonderful Winter Market at Nido Art Studio yesterday. It was a relaxing day with creative vendors and pleasant, generous shoppers. Thank you to everyone who came and supported me!! You are appreciated!
I recently celebrated my 37th birthday and had the most perfect day at the movies and out to dinner with my family. The day before my birthday, I mailed out the fourth and final issue of 2017's Woolgathering. The year went quickly, but the process of thinking about and writing through the seasons helps so much to really savor the seasonal happenings. I feel so lucky to be able to produce this publication, and I hope my sharing of seasonal observations helps the readers to be more aware of their own. Anyway, it feels significant to have completed that year's work, and I'm looking forward to writing 2018's Woolgathering.
There is even more to celebrate since today is my Abraham's birthday. He is eleven and growing up to be just the most remarkable boy. He loves all living things and is so protective of all of them. He takes care our family and all of the animals. He is happiest whittling a stick, climbing a tree or down a ravine, collecting rocks, or cuddling with his hedgehog, Leif. If he is not doing those things he is either reading mythological adventures, testing a new recipe all his own, or writing a book for his sister. He works so hard at school, violin, and soccer. He is truly more disciplined than I am. He is the one who worries about my well being the most, and I am so grateful that he chose me to be is Mom. I'm the luckiest!
So, if you get a chance to be outside, try to channel Abe's love for all things--even the stink bugs in our house.
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Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!! Enjoy this wonderful windy warm day!
PS Below is a drawing for our family calendar that Abe made last year!
Anna Lentz, artist, writer, and creativity coach who blogs about making a creative life connected with nature at Spring Bird.