Harmony Provo

When I first heard that a new yarn/fabric/gift shop was opening up in my neighborhood, I actually shrieked with joy.  Tim can attest to that fact.  Harmony was no disappointment!  I am so excited to have all those crafty supplies and beautiful gifts within walking distance.  And when I say walking distance, I mean really short walking distance.  Like, I've been almost once a week since they opened because it is such a short walk and I am so bad at controlling my impulses.  Had a rough day at school?  I think I need more chunky yarn.  Kids being crazy?  Let's go for a walk that happens to go right by Harmony.

So, yeah.  Harmony is chock full of an amazing variety of fabrics, gorgeous yarns, and cute trimmings and gifts from Darlybird.  The ladies at Harmony also offer a wide range of classes to get you started, from beginning knitting to cooking classes.  If you like the sound of any of those things and live around here, you should stop by.  You could even pick up some supplies for your own handmade holiday.  Knitters and crocheters (is that a word?) should come by this Thursday night at 7 pm for Harmony's bimonthly knit night. 

See you there!

You Were Smaller Than a Speck

     Lately I have been thinking a lot about books, and specifically children’s books. Where is the best place to buy them? What is the best way to find out about unique, cool, inspiring books? How do you create an inspiring library without breaking the bank? I am on the lookout for the greatest and best resources to share with you lovely readers. But until then, I wanted to share an amazing new book with you all called, You Were Smaller Than A Speck.

     You Were Smaller Than A Speck, was written by my darling, talented friend Tessa Marie Aranda. It is her fist book- and it is so beautiful -the illustrations are all hand painted by Tessa herself. The book sheds light on the questions all preschoolers inevitably ask, “Moma, where do baby’s come from?” It is a simple, and truthful explanation that gets right to the point. The illustrations are charming; the book is a perfect blend of serious facts with whimsical imagery. It is appropriate for all ages, and is perfect for growing families. I cannot wait to read through it with Hazel. 

     Tessa is taking pre-orders now for the book HERE. The book is $12 for an 8 by 8 inch soft cover book. 

THE CLOCK. thoughts on. an art piece by Christian Marclay.

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This summer I was lucky to spend some time in New York City and I experienced a very profound work of art.  The Clock by Christian Marclay is a 24-hour film collage.  The artist was originally a collage artist who worked with huge collections of found materials, but as he moved into a small flat in London, took up the much more space-saving media - found video.  

           I found this piece to be quite incredible, and so much more thought provoking then other art that I've seen lately.  The piece is made up of clips taken from films all either referencing, overtly showing a clock or watch, or some mentioning of the time.  It is a mash-up montage merged together quite beautifully, complimented with overlaying music and dialogue.  The film runs in real time and continues for all 24 hours of the day.  A viewer can come and sit in a comfortable, dark room and view this alternate passing of time whenever they wish.  The time in the film directly and strangely reflects the viewers real life time, (the real life that they are passing up for this created time). 

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To me, experiencing this work was transformative and meditative.  The video clips created some narrative, despite the discursive nature of the compilation, (perhaps the narrative was something that a viewer needs or wants and so would just form for themselves).  It was quite mind-blowing to experience this passage of time taken in from experiences not your own, (or even anyone's own).   It really quickly places you into some alternative sense of reality, one that is culturally rooted and universal, yet feels very personal and visceral. 

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My colleague and I first experienced the piece for one hour (from noon till one).  We left wanting more and were filled with wonderings like How long has someone stayed in? What was it like at four in the morning? How could you go for very long without peeing? Is this reality better than the real one (maybe that's a bit of a stretch)?  And most important to us was how long could we potentially stay in this thing?

            We made plans and filled our pockets with licorice and tried not to drink anything beforehand.  We put off a perhaps otherwise eventful evening in the fine town to go and sit in this crazy thing for as long as we could, hoping slightly to ourselves that we would be led into some kind of beautiful madness.  Unfortunately that night the event only stayed open until ten o'clock and we were forced to leave after about four and a half interesting hours.  We had not found our psychedelic mad euphoria (or maybe it was there all along).  But there was such a beauty simplicity in this experience.  It was a transcendent and raw and soul-filling meditation.  I left, not knowing how long I could've really endured.  And I like that wondering….

Summers Reverie

        It is inevitable that summer comes to an end, however it is always so bittersweet. I will miss the late nights with my sugar crazed toddler hanging around my neck asking for 'more songs, more songs, please, moma!' I will miss endless swings in the tree-covered hammock, long walks late at night through the neighborhood. The glow of the cozy houses and sleepy people pouring over their television sets late into the night. I will miss the draw of the mountains pulling us in -offering shade, a breezy place to nap, and running water begging to be jumped into. For these reasons and more all through winter I long for summer and the warmth of the sun on the back of my neck as we walk in the wild. I long for the nights spent tangled up in tents- all three of our bodies snuggled cozily together as the crickets sing us softly to sleep. I will miss this. Our greatest moment of this last summer was the solar eclipse. We were out in the open surrounded by fields of grass. With our family gathered all around us we sang and we danced and we ran wild through the fields. It was a moment I don't ever want to forget, and would trade any number of things for. This is what is important to our family -moments like this, spent together with the people we love- outside under the sun.