Old School Care in the Digital Age

 My computer died this week.  It was a slow death that we saw coming, but it caused some pain nonetheless.  I have not been the best about backing up my computer (okay, I have been totally, utterly and completely remiss in backing up my computer), but when the first signs of its demise reared its ugly head, I immediately...panicked, bought some old school CDs, spent 5 hours trying to back up 4 years of my children's photographed lives, gave up, called my husband in despair, called the computer store, planned to pay them the stupid amounts of money to transfer my hard drive, got a new computer, googled backing up my computer, and finally, had my husband save everything for the cost of a mere $20 flash drive and a few hours copying and transferring. 

Its true: I panicked.  Years of thinking "I should really back this stuff up" came crashing down on me all at once.  I was filled with shame and regret.  and a deep sense that I had actually escaped something that could have been much worse. 

In the end, I did not lose my stories, my work documents, the photographs of my artwork that are the basis of my Etsy art/print sales, and most importantly, the past few years of my children's lives. 

We saved what we needed to the flashdrive, transferred everything to the new computer and managed to make the transition from one device to the next without any major losses and minimal tears. 

I'm left feeling more in control of my digital universe, more aware of how data transfers work and what "backing up" really means. 

I am thankful that it all worked out.

And yet, it all still feels tenuous---that my grasp on our past--the pictures, the documents, the videos, that are the proof of our time here together on this planet, could be lost so easily.  It fills me with a sense that its not all that real---that these digital files could disappear tomorrow. Even as we print the pictures and create memory photo books, most of our life remains digital. 

Its a good reminder--not just to back things up, but to back myself up, to look around, to embrace the real--the here and now.  If I lost those pictures of our amazing trip to Disney, or worse, the pictures of my children's births, or my sisters wedding, of my mom's 70th birthday, I would be heartbroken.  Truly Heartbroken.  But its not as if those moments would not have happened.  They definitely happened (I have the Disney cups, the stretchmarks, the messy playroom,) to prove it.  Life is not the same as the pictures that document it.  My memories and my experiences are not the same as the facebook statuses and blog post recordings that talk about them. 

I'm not sure there is a better lesson here than to back my stuff up.  A lesson that I should have learned a long time ago.  And yet, I'm feeling like there is another, perhaps sappier lesson to be learned as well.  I'm feeling grateful---and that my memories and my pictures and my work are still around.  But also, as I look around, at my children, and my husband, at my stories, and my artwork, and my friendships. I'm feeling mushy and grateful that they all exist, that in fact I has so much documentation to lose. and that my life is real and full outside of the digital files that I have used to record it.   

Putting Myself Out There

Once I committed to living an "artist life" I had to then figure out what to do with this art that I was creating.  This is not such a simple task.  There is a big difference between creating art and promoting (and hopefully selling) art. 

Putting myself and my work out there into the public is very challenging for me--on the one hand, I am proud of the work that I do, and on the other hand, I am extremely nervous about the response.  I have finally, in the past few years, succumbed to the identity of artist.  This is what I do--its what I HAVE to do, what I am drawn to do,
And, living in a small town, whenever I get to show my work at a gallery or cool venue, I feel extremely lucky.

The Fraser St. Gallery in State College is one such venue.  It is on a little side street in this college town.  It is such a fantastic space--with cool people, great art, live music--it is arty without being pretentious.  I loved sharing my work there, and meeting all these other awesome artists from Central Pennsylvania.

Listening to the fabulous Riley Roth, and meeting the wonderful wood sculptor Jim Bright

Lots of the people who come to the gallery are also artists themselves

I never really get over the thrill of watching people view my work

Feeling grateful for the opportunity to share my work.  Thanks Fraser St. Gallery and Art Margaux!

A Reflection Ten Years in the Making

The passage of time is a great equalizer.  Time passes for all of us, and as we age we hit certain milestones, moments that change our course forever.  And so, as I age, (and even crazier, as my children age), I have come to recognize those patterns for what they are--part of the normal progression of a life.  And yet, for me, a nostalgic person at heart, big events and momentous occasions bring out the shmaltzy in me.  I can't help it.

This month, Josh and I celebrate our ten year anniversary.  A lot has happened in the past ten years, both to us as individuals and to us together,

I'l acknowledge that most of the things that happened to us, the getting married, the traveling together, the graduations, the beginning of careers, the moves, both in and out of the country, and the birth of children, are things that happen to everyone (or, at least, in various ways, everyone grows up and these types of things happen to them).  And this alone speaks to the hubris of my youth---they felt so special, so important, because they were happening to US.

Can you believe we got married? can you believe we graduated? had children? got jobs? etc. etc. etc. And yet, even as I age and recognize the very mundane in what we experienced, I still look back with awe.

A girl who barely dated in high school and only slightly more in college met a guy--a guy who was funny and smart and challenged her.  A guy who liked her, and who she liked, and then who loved her and who she loved.  and they traveled together, and they moved to New York City, and they went to graduate school, and they got married!
And then, they had a baby.  a beautiful baby boy.  And they were young, and a little stupid, so they decided, sure---lets bring that baby to Israel, where we will live without an income, for a year.  and they did!  they traveled and they learned and they figured out how to be parents while navigating a foreign land.

And they moved back and got jobs and finished up school and moved to a new state and made new friends.



And they had another baby,

and she published a book and he became a rabbi, and she started a school and he took on a pulpit, and then they moved again.  and started over. again.

and she published another book.  and decided to "become" an artist.  and he took a job he never thought he would, and he loved it, and was great at it.  and the kids started school, and they bought a house and made friends and learned to live in a small town,

Ten years.  It may have been mundane. But it was also awesome.

We Made A Butterfly!

Working With Preschoolers is Always So Much Fun!!!
I had a blast with this group of 3-6 year olds.  This is the process we used to create a butterfly for their classroom.

First, we talked about what a butterfly looks like.

We decided our butterfly needed an antenna.  

And our butterfly wings needed patterns.











We learned that oil pastels resist watercolor paint because oil and water don't mix.  We learned how to draw with the pastels and paint over them with the paint.








We picked colors for our butterfly (we decided to use rainbow colors), and made patterns and pictures out of those colors.

We cut our pattern paintings into pieces, and glued them down to create a patterned butterfly.

Almost done! (That's our last years project in the background)

This was the class with the finished butterfly.  I think they did a wonderful job!