my bathtub is a time machine.

i drew myself a bath, let the water run over my toes. i poured in some salts because i like their grit, and i like the way they smell, though i'm not sure what the fragrance is supposed to be. they are a homemade gift in an unmarked glass bottle. they're sweet and fresh. i've nearly used a third of my portion.

then i poured some more.

and just like that, i found myself somewhere in a memory. i was a little girl in an unnamed apartment...clean and white and empty with firm brown carpet and freshly painted walls. i saw myself exploring, peeking around corners, and pondering adventure. i was there. submerged in this recollection. it was keen and real, and then it was gone. i couldn't tell you how old i was or whose apartment i was in. but the scent of those salts brought me back...through a series of buried connections i found myself in the past. time travel. it was so vividly distinct and so cloudy, like remembering a dream. it shot me through the webs of my subconscious and then snapped me back to my bath.

i don't know if this makes any sense at all. or if it's supposed to. i think the smell of the salts must have reminded me, some version of myself, of painted walls. fresh paint.

this remembering has happened a surprising amount lately. perhaps it's because i live on the farm again...i'm home...stepping over this familiar ground. or maybe it's because now i have a child of my own and find myself reliving the past often, find myself aware of my age. aware that i'm supposed to be an adult, yet excited and envious to watch him grow. i find a part of myself beautifully longing and aching for something that has past away. contemplating breveity. but still, i'm delighted with each fleeting memory...capturing each treasure in a mason jar like children do.

i'm thoroughly enjoying this life, the making and the remembering. the change. from time to time, though, i do admittingly get lost in the photographs, even ones from not even a year ago. when our son was born. the nostalgia is sticky sweet and heavy like smoke. the years lap unyieldingly, flying right on by. i'm amazed at how different everything has become. but what's stranger still, is how much everything is the same.*

*but more on that later.

playing catch up.

remember me?

i'm back in this space.

i've missed writing it all, narrating my day to day.

with everything going on, this place has been neglected.

& i felt a sense if pressure about it all.

before i get back into the current,

i thought i'd play a little game of catch up.

photos of my preceeding life.

winter came and went.

and came and went.

overstayed her welcome, really.

she's a temperamental beauty:

valentine's day showed up

in a handmade kind of way.

my heart well is continuously overflowing:

(necklace by HouseThatCrowBuilt)

  

 my little one learned to sleep like this:

(i love that tushy!)

i moved my smithing studio into my dad's glass space

(& i sold my first piece).

i've been practicing and expanding horizons.

the future is full of possibility.

but more on that later: 

as of a month or so ago,

i now not only photograph with my husband,

but i have started working with him in the office as well.

it's good for me:

we've been getting acclimated to our new home

on the family farm.

or should i say, reacclimated since it was

my childhood home.

doesn't that sound romantic?

practically speaking, it's been fantastic for our finances,

as well as a great excuse

 to purge & consolidate.

it's an unbeatable walk to my momma's house.

it smells earthy and is downright iridescent.

plus, you can't beat the nightsong:

there's been some change,

some growth,

expansion.

family.

friends.

art.

life.

projects:

                                   

and then there's this little man.

my heart beat.

he's approaching six months.

time flies, they say.

sai.

sigh.

he's getting so big: 

 and then spring came like a festival.

sunshine for my marrow:

what have you been up to?

fly,

patience.

i've been gone for awhile.

i wouldn't be surprised if this doesn't reach anyone at all.

if this blog were a garden, i suppose it'd look something

like the bamboo that has choked out my grandmother's circle of roses beside the driveway of our soon-to-be new old home.

i'm feeling restored now.

these days, i have more and more energy and less and less blah.

these early months of baby making has left me drained.

the onset of all the tremendous change coming our way has had me feeling raw

and chopped off at the roots.

but i am grounded again...

and the grass is lovely and plush,

spongy and green,

like an inviting bed.

i feel, deep down, i was made to artistically create.

lately, there hasn't been a whole lot of that going on.

no silver, no stones, no illustrating...

or quilting or sewing or painting

or ANY of the things i figured i would have mastered by now.

a few sketches every now and then, a few words

when something won't let me rest.

and that's it.

typically, when it comes to "getting it out" -

putting my heart down that is -

i like to do things quickly.

see results instantly.

very childlike, i know.

patience has eluded me

and creative motivation fallen flat.

of course, it doesn't hurt that all my supplies are packed neatly away in storage as we await the completion of renovations on our house.

humph.

but i still feel the pulse.

saturday, paul and i stopped by a fabulous handmade market 

in north carolina on our way to the beach.

there were so many talented artists there doing their thing.

and in my depths, a twinge.

THIS IS FOR ME...still.

though i don't know what it looks like yet.

the beautiful jj was there with her table of jewels.

it was such an inspiration to finally meet her...

such a captivating person

(with talent out the wazoo)!

i'm not in school anymore - breathe.

i think i can do this - still.

right now though, 

i am taking the time i need, my body needs,

to create thee absolute best thing that could 

possibly ever come from my life.

our baby.

and there is no shame in that.

and while it feels like i'm standing still at the moment,

everything is actually happening incredibly fast.

life is unfolding while i type this...

and that, my friends, is some kind of divine art.

speed of life.

WOW.

fly,

sarah beth

not a moment too soon.

i'm not even sure what thoughts have been occupying my mind lately.
everything is dizzy like the wind.
my head is in the stars, wearing saturn's rings for sunglasses.

i'm 10 weeks pregnant.
it's scary to say that,
it all seems so fragile and delicate.
my secret diamond on the inside.
there is life growing.
the Creator is creating a masterpiece,
and all i have to do is eat, drink, breathe, sleep and
wait.

and we are moving.
same town, different house...
on my family's land.
the original farm house.
it's quite a bit smaller,
but it sits atop a hill as well,
with siding the color of buttery sunshine.
it has a front porch that overlooks one of the ponds.
at night you can hear the peepers in the marsh.
i know this, because it is the house i lived in when i was little.
i'm excited to plant a garden:
strawberries, blackberries, tomatoes, cucumbers, roses...
i'm really nostalgic about the whole idea.
but right now, i'm really tired of packing.
i'm a touch sad about leaving this house,
as it was our first home.
i'm mostly just tired.
i hear that's because i'm pregnant.

i'm excited about spring and all the change it brings.
everything truly is wonderful.
i just opened the front door and
big, fat warm rain drops smacked me on the cheek.

fly,

sarah beth

life.

: )

shedding skin.

i close my eyes, and it's 2010.

2010.

This past year has held its weight with little victories, obstacles, great joys, failures, bright new ideas, fresh perspectives, old habits, new friends, and the kind of gradual change that goes unnoticed until you step back and see how different things really are.

have you ever thought..."where was i this time last year?"

"what was i doing?"

it's remarkable how many things have shaped my life

 in just the past five years.

even last year really.

i graduated college with a fine arts degree, had my first show, gained enough weight that i feel uncomfortable, traveled to south america, celebrated my one year anniversary with my husband, hit the one quarter of a century mark, transformed our house into a home, decided i wanted to make jewelry, got my first paying freelance job, quit my first paying freelance job, got a new photo studio, a new art studio, and almost lost my grandmaw.

yep.

that's 2009 for you.

the brevity of it all has been crushing me slightly.

this chain of moments upon moments, fleeting seconds.

already another has gone by.

and another.

i love a blank slate. a start over. a redo. forgiveness.

the baggage of the past can be a weighty thing when it goes unchecked.

i love the idea of a new year.

resolutions.

what am i going to do differently?

i need a schedule. i want to write those 'thank you's' and say those 'i love you's.' treat myself better. no fears, i want to just do it (i think i may have heard this somewhere before?). be a better wife, daughter, granddaughter, friend. i need to create more, plan more, plan less...

to name a few.

but here's the doozy:

by nature, i'm an over-thinker.

have been since i was kid.

we just recently watched a home video from when i was in second grade. i patiently waited my turn. i stayed in the back of the huddle until everyone else was finished talking to our teacher, mrs. brown, and giving her her Christmas gifts. the whole time i was drinking it in. you could definitely tell. i was studying. thinking. about what, i have no idea.

but i was in it.

and i still am.

which, can be a good thing.

but i think i'm in it over my head sometimes.

some things don't require thinking, as much as enjoying and feeling.

i do often tell myself:

"sarah, slow down. take it in. absorb it all til it's 
dry as a bone."

what i have an even harder time with is:

"sarah, slow down. let it go. stop obsessing. stop thinking about THAT.

please just let it go, you are missing it."

because someone once told me,

"wherever you are, be all there."

so, of all things i hope to master this year, i think i need to go back to the very basics.

stop over-thinking.

don't worry about so much. don't compare myself so frequently.

don't hesitate, don't look back.

breathe. taste. feel. touch. listen. smell. rest. work. laugh. love. cry.

don't try to wrap my head around it.

just drink it in.

today is a good day.

1. finished up some free lance jobs.

YESSSS.

2. and actually feel full to the brim with creativity

(hmm, now only if i had the supplies i need -

anyone know where to get a deal on

silversmithing supplies?)

3. stared down some chores.

4. paul tackled the field...i.e. our yard

5. barnabas loves his bone.

6. feeling well rested from our over nighter at the cottage.

7. paul has an appointment with a potential wedding client...right...NOW.

8. and i have a fresh batch of photos taken.

9. looking forward to a night of:

spaghetti

art magazines

sketching

writing

paul

a hot bath

and the office.