Great Love is....

~ staying up late arguing about discussing the muhammed cartoons because after five years, there's still something to discuss (and you think freedom of speech doesn't mean you HAVE to speak).

~ still sharing dreams after 12 years.

~ fighting off an overwhelming urge to kiss even tho' you're standing in a canteen full of 1500 people at work.

~ knowing which task is whose (laundry: mine, garden: his)

~ making one another laugh.

~ when your heart still skips a beat when you catch sight of him across the room.

~ horrible dreams of mangled plane wreckage when he's away.

~ ok, i have those dreams even when he's not away, and they're mostly about me, but i'm never hurt (tho' often strangely wearing rollerblades) so it's ok.

~ being one another's closest confidant.

~ him putting up with all of your whims.

~ you putting up with him putting away the dishes as if he doesn't live here (he never learns and frankly, you've got to remember to be grateful he puts them away at all).

~ late night discussions of evolution, sociology and political science.

~ funny text messages.

~ building something together (literally, out in the garden).

~ a shared history.

~ finishing one another's thoughts.

~ there still being surprises after 13 years (who knew husband took a photography class?)

~ not remembering precisely how many years it's been (12, 13, whatever).

what's Great Love in your world?

slipping through my fingers

what is it about mama mia! that just makes you want to cry...i recall the first time i saw it, on a KLM flight to manila. i was happily the only one awake to see me blubbering like a baby. i can't find a proper version of the video on youtube, but here's the best i could find....and tho' sabin is only 9, it still brings tears to my eyes...



and while i'm not sentimental and generally despise sentimentality, how do you hold onto the goodness of right now, treasure it and memorize it and not let it slip through your fingers? if you know how, do tell me...

tripping down memory lane

i'm clearing a whole lot of boxes out of the attic. i had saved loads of sabin's baby clothes up there, for some unknown reason. perhaps for a sibling that never materialized. perhaps because they seemed so precious i couldn't bear to part with them. perhaps saving them for a rainy day. maybe because in my last life, i was in the siege of leningrad. maybe i'm part squirrel? or maybe just because i'm an incurable packrat.  but in any case, i've gotten them down and i'm going through them. i've decided it's time to wash them all up and save the ones i want to use to make her a quilt of her baby and toddler life and to donate the rest.

and i'm finding it strangely difficult. all those sweet little bitty clothes that i remember her wearing. it brings tears to my eyes to see them again and think of all the times i dressed her in them and washed them and folded them. remembering occasions when she wore them. me, feeling sentimental, imagine that? i hate sentimental, but i can't help it. just looking at these little shoes makes me tear up like a big baby. and i'm honestly not sure i can part with them. what is it about them? some lucky little girl out there could probably really use them, the toes are scuffed a little bit, but it's nearly in a charming way and there's really a lot of use left in them. they should be of use to someone, not tucked away in a box in our attic. i wish i could think of a way to incorporate them into a quilt that's a topography of her life thus far, but one doesn't spring readily to mind. why oh why is it so hard to face giving them away?

it's a bit strange, because i love the big girl sabin is becoming and in many ways don't miss her babyhood. i love how much she does for herself and how much fun she is now - she was also fun then, but in a different, more needy way. but tiny little clothes and shoes are just so sweet. now her big old long toes poke holes out the ends of her tights, back then, they were just so sweet and little. maybe that's it, i just have a thing for miniature things. maybe i'll just keep the red shoes and donate the rest (including the most precious pair ever of silver and pink nike shox). i've even got the original box for those. hmm, why is it so hard to let go of things?

seriously...

...if i see one more supposed art journal that is based on an anthropologie catalogue, i'm going to throw up. there's no originality in that. get a life, people. art jounals should contain ART, not just some crappy pictures someone pasted out of a magazine and around which they whined about their pathetic, fat, nothing happening life in stamped letters. arrgh! i'm sick of the sap. i'm sick of the nostalgia. i'm sick of the sentimentality. free me from the sentimentality!!! and free me from the perfect little square corners.

i love pretty papers. i love quotes. i love expressing myself. i love creativity. i love chipboard letters. i love those paper clip thingies and brads. i love alphabets. i love bling and bits of ribbon. rub-ons are cool. and i've been journaling for years in beautiful books. but does it have to result in utter sap? where is the authenticity? where is the rawness? where is the art? where is the inspiration? these people think they're artists. they're not. they're housewives with no lives!!! i SOOOooo don't want to be THAT!

ok, in all fairness (to myself if no one else), i'm pretty sure i'm not that. i mean, it's totally clear that i have a life....and quite a lot of yarn. and scrapbooking supplies. but no sentimental nostalgic sap here. leave it at the door, baby.

the internet may be killing me....