In everyone’s life, at some time, our inner fire goes out. It is then burst into flame by an encounter with another human being. We should all be thankful for those people who rekindle the inner spirit.
-Albert Schweitzer

I started blogging just over six years ago, when Pumpkin was an infant and The Princess was a preschooler and I was a newly working-from-home mom who wanted an outlet for writing and talking about my day and hopefully hang on to a piece of myself while living elbow deep in diapers and bottles and bendy straws.

And initially I was shouting into the void because I didn’t really give the link to anyone I knew, just started writing.

And then somehow, people came.

Not many. I’m not one of those bloggers. I don’t have the charisma to attract people in droves to find out about my riveting iTunes buying habits. That’s okay.

Eventually, I would meet other bloggers and work on other projects and form friendships.

Oh, the friendships.

It seems weird, these friends of mine who live in the computer – who were so theoretical and imaginary until a few years ago in Nashville, I met many of them face to face. And then later in Chicago, I met more of them at another blogging conference. And these ladies who fill my Twitter stream and invade my Skype on the daily (thank god), have become some of the best friends I could ever ask for.

It sucks when many of your closest friends are so far away. I could go damn near anywhere in this country and know someone there – and that’s pretty awesome. But sometimes, when you’re having a hard time, the country feels kind of big.

Until your friends make it smaller.

I’m not sure who started it, but my mailbox has been getting so much love lately. Almost daily, I receive a greeting card with love and support and joy and friendship.

Sending hugs from the middle of Georgia.

Remember I’m here for you always.

I hope you don’t mind slightly pornographic fairy cards.

You are loved SO much.

You, friend, often make me smile…

Amazing. You’re amazing.

Love you.

#GuacTribe forever!

Surely they know, have to know how their kind words mean the world to me. How even though my world is a little shaken right now and things are chaotic, their love and support from their various corners of the country remind me that I’m loved and that as long as I’m loved I’ll be okay. They don’t even need to know what’s bothering me, only that I need love and they have reached out to give it in spades.

And I am so blessed. So very very blessed.

I wish they were all nearby and we could kick back somewhere with a table overflowing with food and drinks and just all laugh and talk and be surrounded by the light that each one of us has to shine. But until the next time, I welcome their arrival in my mailbox. Little by little. Each kindness. All of the love.

I am so very blessed to have these friends.

It used to be that when my mind was in chaos, I turned to writing to process my thoughts and figure things out and get myself from point A to point B – and… I stopped doing that. I used to write all the time – poetry, lyrics, short stories, essays.

And somewhere along the line I stopped writing so much.

I need to change that.

I see me looking back at me.

I’m kind of introspective anyway, I spend a lot of time in my head. I spend a lot of time thinking, rethinking, overthinking and thinking some more. And when I think I’ve thought all I can think… then I do more thinking.

And sometimes it’s useful and I can calculate and solve and come up with solutions, and sometimes? I can’t.

I’ve spent a lot of time in my head lately, and frankly I wish I could get a break from it.

Open up my head and let me out…

(No. I don’t make a habit of quoting Dave Matthews’ songs)

Most of the time I really love my introspective way. I love how I am secure in my head and I have confidence that I can solve anything, figure anything out.

Sometimes the thinking is decidedly tougher.

Right now, I spend a lot of time thinking. And it sucks, it really sucks. I’m starting to hate thinking – starting to envy the stupid people who can go days or weeks without ever really rubbing coherent thoughts together.

Dear Friends,

I don’t send Christmas letters – and I didn’t send cards again this year – second year in a row. The thing with Christmas letters is that either your year was really phenomenal – you did all these amazing great things and I will be beside myself with jealousy at the places you went and the cool things you did… or (and this is the more likely of the two), I will wonder why on earth you wrote a Christmas letter to tell me that you had a head cold for three weeks in October (bonus points if you mention phlegm) and that your Uncle Chip who lives in Tallahassee bought a puggle and Chip can’t seem to figure out how to housetrain his dog. No one really needs to know that but it’s one of those letters that is seemingly written out of some bizarre sense of obligation – you have to write something but you have nothing to say so you say anything (fortunately, I only got one letter like that this year).

Anyway.

Whatever.

I didn’t send a Christmas letter to you (or you. Or you. Or you), but if I had, it would say that whether you celebrate Christmas or not, no matter what this time of year means to you I hope that you have days full of joy and smiles. I hope you are able to be with friends and family.

I am surrounded by a lot of really special people in my life – both near and far – and I am lucky. And those who are far away are brought nearer via technology and I love that too. I have good friends – and when things are difficult, and when I struggle, I know I have people I can lean on. That’s a blessing to me.

If you’re one of those people to me, thank you so much for being there, for being a light in my life – and know that on Christmas – and any other day of the year – you mean the world to me.

Wishing you a holiday full of love,

Sarah

Do you know one of those women? You ask her what she wants for Christmas and she “doesn’t know”? It’s pretty common. I am not one who likes to give a long detailed list of what I would like (my mother, on the other hand, is quite specific and in fact makes sure to give her list to both my sister AND me to make sure her bases are covered).

So, here’s some help shopping for the difficult woman in your life. DISCLAIMER: This only works if she is somewhat like me or shares my interests. I’m a strange bird, and what floats my boat might not float hers. DISCLAIMER PART TWO: These things are all just random things I’ve found. No PR company has given me any kickbacks to tell you nice things about them. They are just things I find pretty cool. (Note to PR companies: If you would like to give me any kickbacks for saying any of the nice things I have already said about the items listed below, I’m not opposed to that).

Macro Cell Lens Band at the Photojojo Store!

Is she a camera nerd? Rarely spotted without her iPhone? HEY! ME TOO! This macro cell lens thingamabobber from PhotoJojo looks crazy cool… and it’s only $15. That means if you need a fun stocking stuffer, this would be a great thing. Or, if you’re not out to spend a bunch of dinero, just want to give a cool gift, you can do it without breaking the bank. (Okay fine, this list isn’t gender specific. I bet lots of guys would dig this also)

The Lens Cap Strap Holder at the Photojojo Store!

Since we’re already hanging out on Photojojo, and we’re talking about camera nerds… Does she ever lose her lens caps? HEY! ME TOO! Spare her the agony of crawling around looking for a lens cap after a shoot and pick up one of these things for her.

My friend Lisa is an AMAZING jewelry designer, and you can’t go wrong with any of her amazing jewelry pieces. She’s not accepting any custom orders, but that’s okay, because some of her standard stuff is pretty cool. Like these stacking rings – funky, stylish, sassy… yet classic. Her Etsy store has a lot of amazing finds.

Other Ideas…

Does she always run over her iPod earbuds with the vacuum cleaner or otherwise break them? Check out some headphones (I don’t have time to do the research for you – here are some noise cancelling headphones options).

Does she like to bake or cook? You probably can’t lose if you walk into Williams Sonoma, shut your eyes, spin around three times and point to something. Why? Everything in that store is really cool and makes you feel like you are capable of making edible things.

Does she love to read? Try to find a book for her. It’s scary, yes – because buying a book for someone is kind of a personal thing. My dad gives me a book every year and almost every year it’s a total dud. But… if you know her and know of other books she likes, you may be able to find books that are similar. If you dare. [Note: If you need book recommendations, really, I'm happy to help y'all out - leave a comment and I'll see if I can suggest something]

Or the best idea yet…

Surprise her. You know her, otherwise you wouldn’t be buying her a gift, right? What does she enjoy? What are her hobbies? What does she love to do? If you don’t have any idea (and you should, right?), have you tried asking a friend of hers, a family member, the woman who works at the store she goes to frequently? A well-thought out surprise gift centered around the things she enjoys (whether her hobbies are knitting and underwater basket-weaving or training carrier pigeons or WHATEVER) will go a LONG way. Trust me.

Happy shopping.

One of my favorite people has a birthday today. See that girl up there? No, not that wacky brunette on the right. The other one. The gorgeous girl on the left. Yeah. Her. That’s Kat. And today she is one year older than she was yesterday (sometimes math is really no fun).

But age is completely and totally irrelevant when it comes to Kat. Why? Because she is one of the most free-spirited, amazing people I’ve ever met. Somehow I just know that when Kat is 70, she’s going to be just as awesome as she is now – she’s fun loving, funny, and NO ONE (and I mean NO ONE) is quite as much fun to hit a dance floor with.

Or karaoke with.

Or hang around a bar with (This is Kat’s picture. I stole it. Sorry Kat. And thank you.)

And even without the dancefloor, or the bar, or the karaoke, or the whatever – she’s an amazing person to be around, or… not be around. You see, unfortunately Kat lives in Illinois and while that’s just a few hours from me and not, mission impossible, it means that we don’t get to hang out as much as we would if I moved next door to her (Is the house next door to you for sale, Kat? I think I’d make a lovely neighbor).

But, that doesn’t matter – because when I’ve got something fun to share or I need to vent or I’m sad or frustrated or whatever, she’s there for me. Because she is awesome and technology is awesome, our distance is bridged instantly – and like nothin’, I’m texting her from a Mexican restaurant in Detroit and she’s responding from her house, and we’re having a back and forth dialogue that would be so much more awesome if we were sharing french fries enthusiastically under the same roof – but… it’s nice to know she’s never that far away.

She’s the only person I’ll let get away with calling me “muffin”.

She still is willing to get on planes with me.

She scares me with Buddhas. And I let her live to tell about it.

She gets in the car with her kids and drives one hundred hours to spend the day with me and my kids up here in west Michigan (Okay, it was more like ten hours round trip – but ten hours in a car with kids might as well be one hundred).

She sends me random cards in the mail that make me laugh.

She wears the same size shoe so we can share.

And she’s just one of the most amazing, kindest, most generous, loving friends in my world. If you should be so lucky to have Kat in your life (and I’ll share her with you, I’m not greedy – but just know that I love her best), you should know how truly blessed your life is and how much it would suck if she were not in it. Because she’s pretty awesome. And I adore her.

Happy birthday, Kat. I’m so glad that our worlds collided – I’m grateful for your friendship and your love. You are one of the best friends a girl could ask for. Love you! <3

Photo credit: Casey/Mooshindy
Photo credit: Lotus Carroll

West Michigan is a kind of okay place. There are a lot of people who love it, a lot that don’t and many who are somewhat neutral about it. I am, for the most part, quite neutral about it here – and find that the saving grace of west Michigan is ArtPrize.

I make no attempt to hide my love of ArtPrize – I love how the streets are filled with people and with art, and I love wandering around with my camera capturing what’s out there. I love it. I love every moment of it. And when one year is over, I look forward to the next year. This is its third year, and I was even more eagerly anticipating ArtPrize this year than last.

So why am I so mad right now?

Well, I don’t know. And I do know.

The Top Ten for this year was announced Thursday evening and it was… mostly disappointing. I say mostly because there were a few pieces in the Top Ten that I love. One of them being the one pictured at the top of this post. One being this one right down there.

But.

There are pieces in the Top Ten that have me scratching my head wondering what the hell people are thinking? And I’m not the only one. And because so many people are outraged, there’s talk of the “elite” – the art critics who think they know better than anyone else what constitutes art, and that this outrage over the popular vote is implying that somehow the population of West Michigan is just not bright enough to be trusted to vote.

Art is tremendously subjective. This I know.

I love ArtPrize because it takes art, in so many different media, and makes it accessible to everyone. Those of us who don’t go to museums the rest of the year (admittedly, I am not a frequenter of our museums), may be more likely to go during ArtPrize. I love to see the lines outside of the museums – and the families walking around looking at the various pieces. I love taking my kids to see the different venues and talking about art, and what we like and why, and how do these pieces make us feel.

ArtPrize is a conversation starter. It opens up a dialogue that we might not otherwise be having.

And that’s great.

And because it’s so subjective, is it really for me to say that those pieces that are in the Top Ten that I loathe (yes. loathe) are not art? Are they less worthy because I don’t like them? Do they have less merit?

I don’t know.

I just get so frustrated when I think of the amazing pieces that fell through the cracks.

That once again photographer Ryan Spencer Reed’s work was not recognized. His series on the Sudan left me sobbing in the hall of the convention center where it was displayed. His work last year – photographs of the ruins in Detroit – were equally breathtaking, haunting, and phenomenal… and yet, somehow some piece of driftwood gets the recognition that these photographs are not? {There are other examples – though Reed’s photographs are the first that come to mind – and you really should take a look because they are amazing.}

None of these exhibits are on equal footing and I think that’s the fundamental problem with ArtPrize and the voting process. Not all venues are created equal. Naturally, pieces displayed at bigger venues are going to have a bigger audience.

The museums didn’t open until noon – and so it shouldn’t surprise me that many of the pieces selected were not pieces displayed in museums. Surely, it creates a logistics problems for the museums (who are already facing a higher volume of traffic – and not charging admission), so I get it. But… apples to apples or apples to kumquats.

Ultimately, I guess that while I’m not thrilled with my Top Ten choices, there is definitely one piece that stands above the rest for me, and I will vote for that piece and I will cross my fingers that that piece wins and not some “crazy crap” (thanks for those eloquent words, o ye king of ArtPrize).

I hope that changes take place before next year’s event. I hope that maybe there was a bit of growing pains that they can work through to maybe level the playing field for the artists somewhat. What the answers are for that, I don’t necessarily know.

While I am frustrated, I am ultimately still head over heels in love with ArtPrize. There’s really nothing else like it here, and whether or not everyone else takes the time to really walk around and look, really look, at what’s out there… I do. And I love it. I love it, my kids love it, and I promise to hold off on being a hater until I see what next year brings.

It’s a great thing for an okay town, and it needs to keep being great. I hope it will be great again next year.

In 1994 and 1995, maybe even 1996, you could not swing a dead cat (don’t ask me, it’s a Michigan-saying, I think. I intend to not swing cats, dead or otherwise, ever. No worries) without hitting someone with her hair done in the oh-so-famous “Rachel” style.

The Rachel, if you can’t tell from that picture of Jennifer Aniston above, is a cut that is FILLED with layers. Lots. And. Lots. Of. Layers. It was cute at the time, and it marked an era, and Friends was a cute show anyway and it’s always fun to get that “Smelly Cat” song stuck in your head (AND OH MY GOD WITH THE CATS AGAIN. I’M SORRY).

But time passed by and so did the style and that was fine.

And then Friday I went to get my hair cut – I didn’t really have a plan. I was long overdue to have some split ends clipped off and I didn’t have any real direction beyond that. “How about we lighten up some layers?” my stylist said. “It will help your curl spring up and be so cute!”

Okay. Sure. Fine.

At the end of the hair cut, I had her blow it out (I can never get my hair that straight), got back to my car, checked it in the rear view and realized, Oh no. This is the Rachel cut. I will never survive with this many layers. My curls are NOT going to cooperate. This is not going to be good.

In fact, I’ve been scared to let it curl. I straightened it again, fearing that if I see how it curls up, how it doesn’t work the way I want it to, that I may cry.

Which is silly: It’s only hair.

Not only is it ONLY HAIR, my hair grows super-duper-speedy-quick.

If the layers really are too messed up for my curls, I’ll just cut a few more inches off (Ugh, that hurt to type), and I know that it’ll grow back and that it’s just hair and I’m being silly and ridiculous.

Tomorrow is the day. Tomorrow I let it curl and see what happens.

Wish me luck.

Hello there. It’s nearly ten p.m., and things are quieting down for the evening. It’s been a busy week so far – and it’s only... Tuesday? How is it only Tuesday?

I’ve been spreading myself a bit too thin lately and have had a chaotic time. I realized last week that this was the first summer in years when I haven’t had a mother’s helper once a week to come by and take over with kid duties so I could get a huge block of uninterrupted work time. Getting laid off, I was sure I’d be fine without it – if I had no work, what was there to balance?

Well.

I got hired back. And long term, it’s less hours than it was – just a few hours here and there to keep some projects afloat – but it was a relief. I need to work. Right now, though? Those projects are pure insanity. And half of me is like, “WHOOOHOO! I’m busy! I LOVE busy!” and half of me is like, “Well, shucks. I kinda miss my mother’s helper now!”

And on top of that?

I got a job. I’ve always made it a point to not really talk about work on my blog – other than, “OH HAI I HAVE A JOB” or “OH HAI GUESS WHO GOT LAID OFF?” – and that’s not changing. This is a new adventure for me – six years ago today was the last time I worked in an office regularly — so, it’s a change. While change has a tendency to get me a little nervous, change can also be awesome. I’m very excited. (Also: Nervous. What if they don’t like me?)

So, July. It’s almost over but not without leaving a whirlwind of change in its wake.

Alright, internet, enough about me: How YOU doin’?