July 31, 2008
July 30, 2008
July 29, 2008
Team Craun is thinking all things Chicago this week, and gearing up for some time with the Grand Dubs in the Windy City. Thanks to Bugaboo day trips, not only do we have a new wallpaper for our desktop, but a travel guide that is kid-centric, Bella-approved, and plain lovely to carry around on our excursions. Cory Hudson, working under the name Struggle Inc. in Chicago, is the artist who created this enticing tot-centered travel map.
July 28, 2008
My sister is by far one of the funniest and most sarcastic of my friends. This week, I made the grave mistake of encouraging her to read David Sedaris, and she took my advice. After exchanging some e-mails discussing the humor and realities of “sibling relationships”, I decided an apology for all my childhood meanness was in order. And this revenge post -- all warranted -- is how she forgave me.
I LOVE HER.
July 25, 2008
July 24, 2008
July 23, 2008
July 22, 2008
Every time I look at this gorgeous image, and fresh art idea, I laugh.
And I think, I know just how you feel.
For a visual treat, visit the Inner City Snail project here. Its a London-based artist who makes small urban interventions, this is the traveling work, as opposed to the placed little people street art installations, here.
July 18, 2008
I seem to be plagued with compulsive rescuing. It is painful how things cry out to me. Screaming so loudly, I must pull over and inquire. The thing, or situation, certainly needs my help. Surely I can rescue it from its current life.
Stranded persons, and things like this sad huge plastic elephant.
my car pulled over
the kids are buckled in their seats
my warning lights flashing
my window down
“how much for the elephant?”
If nothing else, the joy of getting to shout out such a question, is worth this entire episode.
His hand is up. And then, how quickly the tired parents mind will assemble any combination of fingers for the intended number. His last three fingers are definitely up. And teaching Bella the hand configurations for numbers, I know that it can be hard to remember to pin down that wayward thumb. So, I neglect to figure that one into the math. “3?” I inquire. He nods, and approaches my window to collect. I hand him 3 single dollars. He gives me a thumbs up, and I realize--now that he is closer to the car--his first finger is a stub, and his thumb appears to have been involved in the injury that claimed his finger.
So, his young assistant, of maybe 8 or 9, lugs the elephant across the street with a smile from ear to ear--victorious in their first sale of the morning. I have to take the lid off of this bigger-than-I-realized elephant to fit it into the thankfully empty trunk. And it is then that I notice the label that reads $5. Maybe we were negotiating?
After we are home, and have unloaded our new circus friend, I begin to clean her up in the bath. I know, at this point, you’re all like -- OK -- it is entirely ONE THING to actually buy this thing in cash from some curious yard sale on the corner, but is wholly ANOTHER, to welcome this beast into the claw foot tub for a bubble bath.
Most of Elphent’s carnival makeup is going; she actually has a really nice ivory complexion with tiny flecks of silver glitter. I am working on scrubbing her down to that, keeping only her eyes, nose, and blush circles on her cheeks. So, as if the projects list in my sidebar isn’t big enough, add on “figure out what to do with a huge plastic elephant” lidded container.
Any ideas are welcome. please.
Post a comment with your idea.
And when we do figure out what to do with Elphent, I’ll let you know.
July 17, 2008
Nate now nonchalantly slips in words during normal playing + interactions. As a proud mom, and an over-dramatic one, my response is usually total amazement, accompanied by animated facial expression--and I must admit--even clapping. Language is such an exciting thing to me. The communication possibilities: less confusion, reduction in tantrum frequency [maybe?] and the joy of knowing more about what he is thinking + what his preferences are.
So, he slips in these words--and even multiple word pairings-- that I have never heard him utter, and I naturally respond as I descried above. I actually consider it my motherly obligation to make a fuss over menial milestones, many times daily. But this little guy just casually glances upward at me, from the corners of his eyes, with a nearly indistinguishable sly smile. Not willing to get excited, not willing to even turn his head and fully look at me to celebrate his verbal accomplishments.
And I am convinced, if this little man knew more words, he would say: “MOM. Obviously, we both know that I have understood these words for some time now. Up until now, crying and pointing has served us both just fine. It's not like it's a super huge deal that I am audible and understandable now, and I certainly don't need your patronizing applause.”
I love this guy.
July 16, 2008
July 14, 2008
July 11, 2008
July 10, 2008
Someone once told me that they made it a point to say that their children were “growing like wildflowers” as opposed to weeds. What a great perspective. I had only one very small baby at the time, and did not fully understand her advice, until now. The wildflowers of my own are in full bloom, and growing faster than I ever would have imagined. And they know my attitude, and life perspective -- sheerly by living it out with me, by osmosis, if you will. They copy my manners and language as consistently as I model it.
Here is a shot of wildflowers that Bella + I seeded in the bed that encircles the tree in our front yard in early spring. They are trying their best to compete with some pretty overpowering lilies. My two little people picked these yesterday; Bella has taken great ownership + pride in these blooms.
July 9, 2008
July 8, 2008
decidedly moving forward
These pieces keep great company with one another and carry on polite, but honest, conversations. I will have at least 25 variations--all unique originals--in the series. In fact, right now I want a whole room of these for myself. But, those of you that visit our home, know I don’t have a ton of my own work on the walls. However, if I had a white kitchen with any spare wall space, I would have out the hammer and level.
Take a peek, and see what I have been up to this week. I hope you enjoy them as much as I do right now.
July 7, 2008
A little game for the morning, I was tagged by Autumn
1. Where is your cell phone? purse
2. Your significant other? soulmate
3. Your hair? unruly
4. Your mother? saccharine
5. Your father? spitfire
6. Your favorite thing? freedom
7. Your dream last night? unknown
8 Your favorite drink? coffee
9. Your dream/goal? grandma
10. The room you’re in? curmudgeon
11. Your hobby? baking
12. Your fear? loneliness
13. Where do you want to be in 6 years? family
14. What you’re not? alone
15. Muffins? homemade
16. One of your wish list items? remodeling
17. Where you grew up? Lincoln
18. The last thing you did? art
19. What are you wearing? yellow
20. Favorite gadget? iPod
21. Your pets? Craunlets
22. Your computer? lovely
23. Your mood? hopeful
24. Missing someone? yep
25. Your car? boxy
26. Something you’re not wearing? diamonds
27. Favorite store? online
28. Like someone? lots
29. Your favorite color? muted
30. When is the last time you laughed? earlier
31. Last time you cried? recently
TAG yourself, please.
If you play along leave a comment and link to your list.
Rules: answer questions with only one word, then tag 4 others.
July 5, 2008
July 3, 2008
I am uncertain which of the little people left this scene, and I am still in speculation and hold mild concerns regarding the intentions.
I pride myself on keeping a clean and organized home, and have subsequently watched Bella insist upon the same order with her own belongings. Finding this so cleverly “out of place” is suspicious. So to my great surprise and bout of humor, I shall likely never know, but laugh quite hard -- and watch for any forthcoming suspicious activity.
July 2, 2008
July 1, 2008
Asking for help is hard for me to do. I did it more than five times last week. And when I finally thought I had the help I needed, the initial answer of yes was switched to no unexpectedly.
Honestly, “I am feeling pressed” was the given reason.
I know how you feel. I understand.
I thought I did. I do love honesty. Though I must admit, I like it best up front. And I am not good with change. That said, my initial response was smooth, which is a major indication of personal growth in that area, but it initiated some tumultuous thinking and a huge interior struggle. Contemplation, a familiar place for me.
Why am I wired with this Super Hero mentality? Why did I have to stop myself twice from picking up two more stranded persons last week? Needing to rescue them -- more for myself than them, I think.
Anyway, some pondering ensued. Unfinished tangents, but the beginnings of something. Maybe some new art. Maybe it is perfect for what I have already started. Just a slight change. Maybe the idea simply needs to let itself be pressed a little bit, and there is space after all.
I make image from this process. Without the press, and its pressing, my prints are not possible. My image is only visible with ink and pressure. They need to be pressed. They are dead to life otherwise.
Coal makes Diamonds
Grapes make Wine
Ground beans make Coffee
Something pressed for the sake of another thing -- yields unbelievable transformation. Often beautiful, or tasty, and almost nearly impossible to imagine.