Painting by Lucas. Feliz Navidad!

How my son spent his Sunday morning.

Paper, cardboard, string, and cello tape sculpture of a horse and wagon by 7-year-old Lucas.

I’ve written a couple of times already about the pottery class that Lucas and I took this summer. It was great fun and I’m hoping to do another class, perhaps this fall. It was five evenings during which we both learned something new and got to spend some one-on-one time together.  Our relationship seems to have benefited from having this time away from Asher. Ian and I have resolved to find more such opportunities for Lucas to be with one parent; we’re fervently hoping that this might help improve his somewhat spiky and melancholy moods.

Here is a small selection of our clay creations.

Here is Lucas’s clown. He conceived and executed this all on his own with no help at all. I think it’s adorable.

Detail from my birdie bowl.

Lucas made a small turtle he called Squirtle (à la Pokémon.) His beehive makes me think of Winnie the Pooh.

My frog and my Lucas and Asher hearts.

Lucas carefully glazed this small ball sculpture with a rainbow of colors. (I think of it as a paperweight, but I don’t know if he would agree with that description.) Choosing its glazes took him a long time because he had to find the color from among about a hundred samples, remember its number, and then find the appropriate jar of glaze. The teacher asked us to take no more than two glazes to our workspace at a time, so Lucas had to return to the table with all the glazes repeatedly.

And that little sprite guy is my invention; I had a few extra moments at the end of one class and thought he might look funny hiding in a potted plant or something.

Lastly, we both made thrown pots on the potter’s wheel. Lucas wasn’t too keen on his, so it’s not pictured here. And I made a sign for our doorstep, which you might see sometime.

As I type this, it’s not even 8:00 a.m. on Saturday morning, and yet the kids are already in the kitchen playing with clay.

Work at the magazine this week went well. I was brave and gracious. I talked to all my (ex-) coworkers about the changes at the magazine and my services as proofreader being discontinued. At least to my face everyone was sorry about it and regretful. The editor promises me that I’m the one they’ll call back when the economics are better. She referred to having me working on the magazine a “luxury.” Probably what will happen is that the in-house people will be asked to work more and harder. An editorial employee who is my friend also got cut: She still has a job, but they demoted her to receptionist (and canned the receptionist they had) and cut my friend’s pay. A few other people in different departments were affected (i.e., let go). They have also cut their freelance budget by what sounds to me like a big number, but given that I have no idea what the budget was or what it is now, it’s hard for me to say.

So, we’ll see. I guess they gotta do what they gotta do to stay healthy and weather the economic changes in the region. I must say though, it’s kind of ironic (correct word choice?) that I consistently read about all the wonderful, progressive, exciting things that are happening in this town in the pages of this magazine, which is presently reacting to an economic downturn. Anyway, Monday will be my last day there.

I’ve come to find the silver lining in this change: It’s kinda hard on Asher to have me leave him with a sitter or grandma for 3 to 4 days in a row, when the rest of the month he’s with me constantly. He has survived, of course, but by Friday evening, it was clear that he wanted and needed some mama time. Now I won’t have to do that anymore. I will still need babysitting, but I can arrange it on my own terms and hopefully establish a more consistent rhythm for him—one that he can actually get used to—that doesn’t have 27 days between sets of sitter days. As he is coming into The Great Separation Anxiety Stage, this will be easier on him.

Last Thursday, my father turned 62. That is hard to believe. In my mind, he is still 40. He probably will always be that age in my mind. A friend recently lost her father to cancer. He was older than my dad is—a doctor who practiced medicine up until his end. I can see how hard losing her last parent has been on her. Her plight has inspired some morbid thoughts.

I am thoroughly enjoying the drawing classes that Ian and I are taking on Thursday nights. The teacher is teaching in a loose, intuitive way, which sometimes works and sometimes doesn’t. But the true gift of the class is that we 1) leave our home and kids and assorted real-life distractions, 2) go to a studio/gallery where we are surrounded by art and things to draw, and 3) there are two and a half glorious hours with nothing else to do except drink tea. We are hoping to continue the classes for the next couple of months, or for as long as our babysitters are willing to watch our kidlings. Ian has really caught the bug. He’s been practicing at home, which is wonderful to see because while he’s drawing, he’s not worrying. I love this guy so much. I hate to see him worried. It has been very good for us to have this time together and share this artistic pursuit. I can’t wait to paint!

My brother and his girlfriend, Courtney, recently got back from a vacation in Mexico. It sounds like they had a super time. I think this is Jonathan’s first serious vacation in years. I’m happy for them both. I just love seeing them together and it is my sincerest hope that they continue to make each other happy.

We spent a lovely couple of hours with friends last night. It was refreshing and made me so happy to see them.

Tonight Ian and I are taking our first art class together: basic drawing. We are both very excited about it for two reasons. We get to make art, which we so rarely get to do, and learn new things. And we get to do it together without our kids along. It is a little bit of just-us time that we haven’t had in so long. We used to do things like this together before our children came along (fencing, jiu-jitsu, workouts at the gym, watercolor painting, etc.). It’s almost like a date! 

We have lovely new art supplies in a neat little box. Two of each item. 

I hope the class is cool because we’re signed up for four nights of drawing and the school has many more classes that all sound very interesting, including watercolor painting, pastels, and oil painting, which is something I’ve never done before. 

My dearest hope is that this experience will unlock and clear some of the stuffiness and frustration we sometimes experience in our daily work/family grind, and bring some more flow (of ideas, movement, creativity, romance) into our relationship. I feel giddy.

I’m really happy with my mural! In fact, it’s just getting better and better with more detail. The challenge may be figuring out when it’s actually done.

I have a tiny problem in that I would like to find a good, easy way to draw in the stems of the berries. My tiny brush won’t do the line cleanly and efficiently enough to satisfy me. I’m hoping that there exists a sort of paint pen that will do the trick.

I’ve had Lucas help me a little bit with some of the watercolors. He wants to paint with the “acrylicals” so badly, but I won’t let him just go to work (yes, I’m a control freak that way). I’ve promised him that he can help me paint the lion’s tail tuft blue, and I’m hoping that will satisfy him. The tail is the key element in the storybook. The lion’s tail keeps changing color and the little red bird is very curious about it. She finally finds out that he has been painting pictures with his tail tuft on the walls of his cave at night. In this scene, it’s blue from his painting a lake the night before. Here, he’s gathering berries to use their juice to paint the little red bird on his wall. Lucas’s favorite color is blue, and we’re going to use the “acrylicals” to do it. I may try to make the tuft the very last thing I do on the mural. That way he can help me finish it!

I’ve added a stream at the bottom and some hills in the background on the right. I’m kind of working “off book” now, as most of the fill in work is being inspired by other Kleven pictures or my imagination. My wall is bigger than the illustration I’m emulating so I’m winging it in certain areas.