What a Summer

We're in the middle of enormous transitions here at the Gandin Le house.

We lost Mister in July. In August, our little canary, Merrell, died suddenly after a routine vet visit.



His death was as unexpected and quick as was his entry into our lives, almost six years ago. Gone, just like that. I had no idea I could love something so small so much.

Underlying everything (and explaining my absence from the blog), was the news we learned in June:



Yes, it's true -- we're having our first baby. After looking at the parenthood ride for a few years now, we decided to get on it. I'm grateful for all the women and men who have shown me that it is utterly possible and pleasurable to be a parent and live your creative dreams.

Also, they are not kidding about that first trimester exhaustion thing! Now that we're past that milestone and our news is public, I hope to be around here much more. Thanks for hanging in here with me.

In the meantime, here's a slideshow of our spontaneous late-August trip to Marfa. Our bird died in the middle of our week off, so the next day, we packed up and left for a few days in Marfa, a small town in West Texas. It was just what we needed to heal, release, savor the time we had with our sweet pets, and enjoy time together, just the two of us.

Rest Well, Mister the Dog

Our beloved best friend, Mister the Dog, died peacefully on Tuesday, his head on Chris's knee, in the care of our kind-eyed vet. Mister was 16 1/2.

His health had declined so much that we finally knew we were avoiding the hard decision for ourselves, rather than for his quality of life. I'm very grateful to the warm folks at Austin Vet Hospital, especially Dr. Palvino, for sitting with us as we struggled with our decision, and gently let us know that it was okay to give Mister this gentle exit from a body that had lived long, deep, and well.

Still, I hear his paws on the wood floor occasionally, and every time I get up from my desk, I start to go down that hallway to check on him. Riding the waves of grief.

I've been deeply moved by the response from our friends and community. Mister touched so many lives, including avowed anti-dog people who found themselves strangely compelled by Mister's independent, dainty, polite ways. I've even heard from a few friends who said that their interaction with Mister inspired them to become pet-owners themselves. How did one orange, fuzzy creature find his way into so many hearts across the country?

Even though he lived a long, rich life, even though we spent all day working at home with him for his last years, even though we knew it was coming -- it hurts.

We miss our friend so much.

Love Thursday: Introducing...the Crazy Box

I've invented something incredible. It might change my creative life. It is the physicalization of the brain dump, the morning pages, the swamp, Anne Lamott's radio station KFKD.

It is the CRAZY BOX.



This is where I put the thoughts that need disposal. The thoughts that keep me inactive. I gave it four different faces, because the demons show up with different attitudes and it helps me watch for them.



I believe in the power of words, of language, of writing your desires and mantras on paper. So at first, it felt weird to give my negative thoughts space on paper, making these torturous thoughts visible. Will it make these devils come true? Will this become my future?



Here's the great thing: the Crazy Box is like a nuclear containment device. Even better -- a magical nuclear neutralization box. Once you slip the paper in, the box strips its power immediately.

Here's how I'm using it:



You write the thought down that makes your shoulders slump, makes you feel "less than," makes you feel discouraged and like giving up. Yeah, that thought.



Or the secret blasts of megalomania that derail you from the actual work. I know I'm not the only one who has them.



Get them out. ALL OF THEM. The really specific ones, the ones about your best friend being smarter/prettier/more successful than you, the ones that know all your deepest shame and remind you of them often, the ones that short-circuit your enthusiasm into apathy.



Write it down, put it in the box, let it go.



Once a week (or day or hour, depending on how quickly your box fills up), I empty the box by the trap door on the bottom, and take it outside.



BURN IT. I happen to have a cauldron in my backyard for such purposes. Now, you might not be a earth-mama-hippie-writer-nerd-with-a-yard, so use whatever disposal method you prefer (I enjoy the purifying energy of fire).



It helps to have a few friends nearby as witnesses, to make sure everything gets released. I also wash my hands once I'm inside, to really really really get all that sticky energy off.

I warn you now -- as soon as I put this box into effect, I found myself grabbing for scraps of paper alarmingly often to write down mean thoughts in my head. That's okay. Tear up a ton of scrap paper and leave it close by. I think it's better to interrupt my workday five thousand times to expunge discouraging thoughts than to work straight through and let those thoughts sink into my groundwater. They are toxic and, eventually, they'll cause creative insanity.

How do you dislodge your crazy thoughts?

~ ~ ~

P.S. I work in public health, so when I say "Crazy," I don't mean actual mental health issues like depression, anxiety, or bipolar disorder. I mean the average, annoying, nagging thoughts that strip your energy and make you feel less than the divine creature in human form that you are.

P.P.S. Why is this a Love Thursday post? Because it's another way I've found to love and adore myself and my creative life.

Sister Goddesses Together

Six Austin women just graduated from the Mama Gena School of Womanly Arts Mastery Program, and on July 3rd, over 20 of their friends and loved ones gathered to celebrate their achievement and commitment to pleasure.

I've been part of the Sister Goddess community for over three years, but this was my first SG gathering with my digital camera, and with my new Sigma lens, perfect for portraits.



I had an absolute blast being the surprise and unofficial photographer for the evening! What photographer wouldn't want to be in the midst of such beautiful, happy, alive women?!



I'm pleased by how many photos came out well, especially considering that there was no way I was going to be able to capture the supernatural beauty of every single woman at the party.



I learned a lot about how shallow the depth of field is when the lens is open all the way (only a tiny spot of her shoulder is in focus here!):



And how to take close portraits without being too intrusive. (I still think I'm too shy to get the really golden shot sometimes. More to learn!)



This is my favorite thing about being in a group of Sister Goddesses (whether or not they've been through Mastery) -- there is a bright energy, a sense of mischief and play, that can loft you up high for days afterward. In this kind of room is one of my favorite places to experience a powerful sense of the Divine.



Congratulations, graduates! May all your desires come true, and even better!

Mid-night Web Ramblings

The delicious rain and gray weather this week have relaxed me and made me sleepy earlier than usual, which, tonight, resulted in me being wide awake at 2:45 a.m. Instead of lying in bed with my racing thoughts, I got up and got online.

Here are three good things I've found in the last hour:

1) Everett Bogue's blog "Far Beyond The Stars," especially this post about "why what you don’t do is more important than what you do." He has some very smart things to say, though in some posts, it is so clear that he's writing from the center of his experience as a 25-year-old white man in the U.S. This is not to say that his work has no value, only that it's worth considering the source as you read.

2) My very smart friend Josh's blog, and his post featuring Nick Drake's "From the Morning." Nick Drake, I have discovered, is perfect middle-of-the-night-can't-sleep music.

3) These charming letters from popular female bloggers to themselves at 20.