11/20/13

“Art is the only way to run away without leaving home.” Twyla Tharp

It’s getting rainy and cold here so I need plenty to keep me busy indoors because I am terrified of winter.  I’m never leaving my cozy house with my sweet husband and snuggly children until spring.

I picked up a hobby last year, thanks to a capable friend who was willing to teach.  I’m not that good at it but I enjoy doing it.

I’m currently working on family portraits for two families, but I’m wrapping them up and I need a new project to work on!  If you dig my style and have an empty wall, let me know and I’ll paint something for you.  My favorites are stylized abstract families, done in colors to match wherever you want to hang the painting.  The sizes are pretty giant (children pictured for size).  Of course most of them are sparkly and textured, which you can’t tell by the photos. 

Personalized art available if you want some.  Email me if you’re interested.  Norface5 at yahoo.

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‘Lifeline 1’  This one was for me and now hangs in our kitchen.

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‘Lifeline 2’ for darling Anne.

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This was a collaboration between an old friend and me, from a very dark phase.

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‘Immovable’ Wish you could see the black glitter.

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My family portrait.

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‘Bury my Heart’  Darker period getting lighter at least.

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Paige’s family

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‘Eternal Scream’ for a friend (who BY THE WAY, did not know she was having a fourth child and that he would be a boy when I painted this.  I’m an oracle.)

 

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Extreme close up sneak peak of another friend’s family portrait, nearly done!

 

Ok, so let me know.  Could be done by the holiday.  XO

11/13/13

Wedding Pictures

 

Before:

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Wedding prettiness:

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Bride:

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Groom:

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Family Before:

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Silas 3.5, Mimi 6.5, Jude 5, Mama 19.

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The ceremony.  The children ran inside to get us.  We walked out to Moonlight Mile by the Rolling Stones.

 

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Boys brought up the rings.

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Mimi couldn’t bear it a second longer and ran to hug us.

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The boys followed suit.

 

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And the celebration began as ‘Oh What a Night’ by the Four Seasons blared.

 

This is what my happy family looks like:

 

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A sincere thank you to all of you who helped, attended, supported, and were overall generous with your love during this most perfect day. 

11/11/13

Making Pornography a Turn-off

I’m in charge of my book club this week and my lovely compatriots have agreed to read what some call my flagship book:  Female Chauvinist Pigs by Ariel Levy.  I’ve read the book many times because I frequently teach it in my sophomore writing composition courses.  This week I’ve been reading that and cleaning my house listening to LDS Conference talks.  Cause, you know, I’m super holy and stuff.

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I believe there is a great void in the LDS church’s vocalized position on pornography: church leaders say porn is bad bad bad, but they don’t explain WHY pornography is so awful sufficiently to actually deter or to bitter the very image of it for men (and women).  I agree that pornography is addictive and that has repercussions for sexuality yada yada, but those “reasons” do not create revulsion enough to find pornography the opposite of titillating.  As a mother of young boys it’s my job to figure out how to raise men who are repelled by pornography.  Thankfully I married the most wonderful feminist man and I don’t have to deal with this in my marriage and he will be an excellent asset in steering them away from porn. 

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Around 2003 pornography and Raunch Culture was in full swing and I was living in it’s hedonistic capital.  “The Girls Next Door” were literally next door to my college.  Britney’s pants were low. Paris and Kim Kardashian built empires on Raunch Culture.  T&A was everywhere and it was cool to be fine with it.  The LDS church had just become very public about their anti-pornography crusade.  Remember those days?  I will not go so far as to say I was interested in pornography, but the culture was in my face.  Find me a woman of my generation who does not know at least one of the names of Hefner’s three girlfriends. We didn’t participate in it, but I think many of us were exposed nonetheless.  Sex and celebrity are a match made in . . . well certainly not heaven.  That pairing will probably never go away (Hi Miley!) and neither will pornography ever vanish from culture.  So we need a new thought framework.

I resensitized myself to Raunch Culture (that is to say I pointedly developed disgust rather than just ambivalence) by thinking deeply about these things.

1. Robin Morgan coined the slogan, “Pornography is the theory, rape is the practice.”  Extreme, no? Porn is going to turn you into a rapist?  No.  Let me explain.  Susan Brownmiller, pioneer of the Women’s Liberation Movement wrote a book in 1975 called “Against Our Will: Men, Women and Rape”.  The main argument in the book is that rape is not an isolated crime like robbery or murder, but a systematic process of demoralization: of making real live women into less than human.  Hence, rape is a tool used in war in order to subjugate societies.  How do you convince people that humans aren’t humans and can therefore be physically abused?  Propaganda.  What is rape propaganda?  Pornography.  That slogan blares in my mind every time I see images that even hint of porn.  Pornography is the theory – it is the propaganda that helps stupid people to forget for a moment that sex is about people, not just bodies.  Also, how can you think about propaganda images without thinking about the systematic dehumanizing of the jews?  Brownmiller argued that pornography is to women what those horrible “this is what a Jew looks like” posters were to Jews.  How’s that for a turn off?

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2.  Passion isn’t the point.  Pornography is not real sex and if it is your model, you’re probably having terrible sex.  There is a disconnect between sexiness and sex itself and the people in pornography are feigning enjoyment.  “Sexuality is inherent.  Different things are attractive to different people yet somehow we have accepted one brand of sexuality” and it’s getting boring.  Next time you see some scintillating picture think of porn queen Jenna Jameson who said of her shoots, “ I had to arch so hard that my lower back cramped.  When I see those photos now, it seems obvious that the sexy pout I thought I was giving the camera was just a poorly disguised grimace of pain.”

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3.  The sex industry is in large part fueled by Human Trafficking.  Those hot girls you’re watching?  A significant amount of them are forced participants.  The ones who aren’t are often victims of sexual abuse.  Who wants to watch abused women? If consuming pornography in any way encourages human slavery thanks, but that is simply repulsive. 

 

I disdain pornography because pornography is socially irresponsible.  Hopefully I can teach my boys social responsibility and by default cause them to be sicked out by pornography. 

 

Also of note -- A young LDS woman tells of her battle with a pornography addiction:

http://thesecondbreakfastblog.blogspot.com/2013/10/the-personal-story-of-one-girls.html?spref=fb

Also, citing my source: lots of this is paraphrasing Ariel Levy, if not directly quoting.  Good job writing that book, Ariel.

11/3/13

The Pure Love

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Mimi threw a huge tantrum the other day.  She and I were at each other’s throats and driving one another crazy, as is the way with mothers and daughters sometimes.  Hush witnessed the whole debacle as she pushed every one of my buttons the way a child can, and even lobbed some nastiness his direction.

When Hush and I first started talking to one another I told him I had no interest in getting married again, ever.  As a teacher I know that it’s possible to love other people’s children but unless they are family it’s well nigh impossible to tolerate children permanently.  As a single parent I know what it feels like to be continually on duty.  When you have children you quickly learn that they are your responsibility 100% of the time, whether they’re with a babysitter or a family member is watching them they are still doing you a favor to relieve you of them for any length of time.  I gave birth to those kids and I only feel guilt free when they are with their father or with me.  And they are rarely with their father. 

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I got used to having the kids all by myself with help from family.  I have pretty great children, but their closeness in age makes taking care of them en masse difficult for me, let alone any one else.  My sisters and parents could do it for a few hours at a time but it is unquestionably hard.  I got through that time by being an uncomfortable “taker” when it came to Charitable service given by my family.  I felt very much like a weight rather than a buoy and it was an extraordinarily humbling experience.  Nevertheless, I’d established a routine and made a life for me and my children in Dville.  In reflection, I see quite clearly the charity bestowed upon me and my children by God: twin five year old girls a few houses down for Mimi to play with, a house on a cul-de-sac where the children were safe, parents who could help out when money was tentative, a primary where we were able to maintain community and structure, my sister close enough to carpool to preschool, my family to watch kids at a moment’s notice when I was called in to substitute, an ex-husband who never once fought with me over the children thereby giving them the gift of a peaceful consistent single bed life.  These services are miraculous to me and taught me a lot about how charitable God can be while the weight of the world was seemingly on my shoulders. 

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I didn’t need a husband.  But being at home every night alone from 7:30 pm onward becomes tedious and very lonely.

My children, I thought, had pretty much everything they needed and didn’t need a dad in their home.  They had plenty of positive male role models and only had one parent to contend with as far as discipline.  I had zero interest in allowing someone to get to know my children and tolerate them in any way – knowing as I do that other people’s children are a novelty for a while, but eventually are just plain annoying.  I did not want to have to be so high strung and worried that my kids are being difficult to manage.

I remember some of the earliest conversations I had with Hush as being a reward for a day completed.  Hush knew that I had children but I had sworn up and down that I was only interested in being entertained while I was (willingly, gratefully) trapped in my house by sweetly sleeping children.  I looked forward to speaking with him because our lives were so different and he was such an interesting person.

Months passed and I somewhat blindly moved to Salt Lake City, trusting that the blaringly loud prompting for God in my ear was legit.  Hush lived there, but I figured when he learned the real measure of what me and three kids looked like he would gracefully tap out.  I was planning not to fault him for that.

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In the months that passed I watched a massive transformation.  Hush had never been married and had no children.  He has plenty of nieces and nephews, but for all intents and purposes he was a single dude.  Children are by nature selfish unreasonable little beasties, and Hush is a man of control, thought and reason.  He wasn’t there to wake up with them in the night when they were infants.  They aren’t his little carbon copies.  They’re children and sympathetic by default (and because of their attractiveness) but they’re also children and hard by default. 

The magic happened through one attribute: Charity.  In my plan to avoid forcing a man into my children’s lives I neglected to account for the power of service and charity.  Hush was around the four of us and we needed a lot of help.  Silas can’t get himself drinks.  Jude needs his shoes tied.  I need an evening respite from my life of kids.  Hush already loved me, but I was privileged to watch as his service became pure love for my children.  He taught them to rock climb, he ate dinner with us, he unflinchingly threw himself into a life of service.  And charitable service is how Hush became a parent.

Last week Mimi needed an adult with more patience than I had at the moment.

Epic as Mimi’s tantrum was, Hush stepped around me and into the room where she was screaming and crying.  My breath caught: was he going to get in her face and tell her how naughty she was being?  What could this guy do to help the situation that not even I could get a handle on?  I squeezed my eyes closed in frustration.

In a moment the shrieking stopped.  I opened my eyes to see my little daughter cradled in Hush’s arms as he spoke soothingly to her calming her down.

And this is the greatest gift that God has given us thus far: a man with a charitable heart.

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(ps. this message has not been approved by Hush.  He says I need to stop writing about him because he is a tough badass who has NO soft spots for anything or anybody.)