Jan Avellana | Art + Words

downtime.

ahhhh...a breather at week’s end. much needed downtime with the family and myself.

happy weekend, everyone!

reflections.

{ mixed-media encaustic :: reflections on a life :: © jan avellana, 2012 }

the last time i visited my family it was pouring most of the time. the gardenia bush my dad planted out front was being reflected in the pool of rainwater that had collected below it. i took a photo of this mirror image—this reflection—and birthed a revamped encaustic piece i began a year ago at artfest. this mixed media encaustic work combines the image of the reflection of the gardenia plant my mother so loves...this simple image symbolizes my father. i now see reflections of him, like the plant in the water and the image is elusive, unreal in substance, a reflection of the actual thing. the text is a handwritten draft of a war story, a piece of vintage ephemera, a nod to the wounds my father is still carrying with him today.

i visited my father today. he was a mix of emotions and a bit sad, processing through the changes he is going through the best he can. i think the fact that he isn’t going home to live anymore is beginning to sink in...i tried to walk with him and allow him to give voice to his feelings of loss and sadness, but the truth is i talked a lot because it made me feel better. what he most needs right now is wide berth to sit with his feelings and be heard. tomorrow i’ll try again.

he said he misses my children (they are not allowed in the ward where he is). he asked me to drive by his hospital window when we left so that he could see them before we headed home. i said sure dad. i really thought he would forget that he asked to see the boys, thought he’d get lost in the fog again, but he didn't. when we drove by his window, he was there, waving at us as we drove by in the car. it nearly broke my heart to see him standing there in that window, saying hello and good-bye. i wanted to pile him in the car and drive off with him and make everything alright again, go back 50 years and have him be young and dapper and well again and i can’t, i can’t make it better dad, i can’t stop this demise for you any more than i can stop my own kids from growing up and away, stop the wrinkles from etching themselves onto my own face. this life is full of wonder-filled hello’s and slow and painful good-byes and all of the life lived in between.

afterwards, we took the kids to the beach. everything is always better at the water it seems. it was going to be just a sand day. i watched my children play and slowly, but surely make their way into the water although it was late in the day and too windy, too cold. something in me healed up as i watched them, so young, so alive, so present in their play and joy, and my heart felt full again.

it’s a mystery to me how we get through this life to the end, with our brains and hearts intact. i think it’s a matter of breaking open wide and getting sewn and duct taped along the way, the way my son’s bear-bear gets stitched and stitched up again and again. i suppose the breaking and the seams tearing open is only because of how much we love. the comfort i find these days is that we aren’t meant to be torn apart and separated from one another, that there is more waiting for us behind the veil and that our hearts were made to live eternally with the One who made us...

where we shall find the stars.

“disturb us, Lord, when we are too well pleased with ourselves,
when our dreams have come true because we have dreamed too little,
when we arrive safely because we sailed too close to the shore.

disturb us, Lord, when with the abundance of things we possess,
we have lost our thirst for the waters of life, 
having fallen in love with life, we have ceased to dream of eternity, 
and in our efforts to build a new earth,
we have allowed our vision of the new heaven to dim.

disturb us, Lord, to dare more boldly, to venture on wider seas, 
where storms will show your mastery, 
where losing sight of land, we shall find the stars. 
we ask you to push back the horizon of our hopes, 
and to push us into the future in strength, courage, hope, and love. 
this we ask in the name of our Captain, who is Jesus Christ. ” ~francis drake

on life.

{ wailua skies, 3.14.12 }

there has been so much going on here, behind the scenes, where do i even begin?

since the fall of last year, there have been a host of challenges—trials is probably a more accurate term—so many of them strung together and piled up willynilly we really haven’t had a chance to catch our breath. it feels as if i’ve been in the rough seas with my family for the last several months, holding onto them—my parents, my children, my husband—with wave after wave hitting us, leaving us cold, drenched and breathless, our fingers wet and freezing...we stand and make sure everyone’s okay, and then the next wave hits and we start all over again. life has been unrelenting these past months.

back in august (was it?), i started having panic attacks. at the time, i didn’t know what they were, but now i do. they come and they go. things are a bit better now, but for those of you who struggle with anxiety and depression, you know how it is. all of a sudden it feels that you are going to die and life keeps on going on around you and you’re not sure if you should call an ambulance or if you are just being silly...anyhow, it started with my new job (now finished) and being called to jury duty the same week and, and, and...

then in december, steve’s dad suddenly passed away and our family made a whirlwind trip to plan and attend the funeral...soon after, another significant blow—cancer in the family, followed by surgery and two hospital stays to clear up infections. intermingle all of this with doctor visits, the washer and dryer needing to be replaced, the car needing it’s timing belt and all four tires to be replaced and months of slow sales and you can see where i’m heading with all of this.

things were just beginning to settle down, i thought...and then my father was hospitalized last week for his bipolar/schizophrenia/alzheimer’s. he has battled his mental illness for as long as any of us can remember, though in the early years of my life he wasn’t diagnosed and so he self-medicated liberally—i understand why, i really do. the dementia is brutal. i have no words. i get glimpses of the loving dad i want to remember, his quick smile and hearty laughter, but quickly it goes, leaving behind my dad, so confused, angry, looping through his ideas over and over and over again.

at times it feels like i can’t go on. that life is too, too difficult, and God too far away. the pain of watching my father (and with precious little time—my art dreams too) slip just past my fingertips causes me an ache that i cannot describe except to say, it feels like it did when my grandmother passed away—a deep sense of loss mingled with gratefulness that i got to love her while she was here. i can see them, but i can’t quite have the experience of them fully. those are the only words i have right now and the emotions of these past months are buried too deep for me to feel yet.

right now, life is an uncontrolled heap of chaos. steve is worshipping on his guitar, his clear voice ringing through our cozy (messy) apartment. the kids discussing their PS3 game. the cat absentmindedly weaving in and out of my artstudio where no art is being made lately, meowing as she goes. my shop marches bravely on for now, while i apply for jobs on craigslist in the meanwhile. mostly, i do my best not to panic. soon, i may be starting to take turns caring for my father on weekends...time will tell, and then, well, things will reach a new level of challenge...

i don’t know what life will look like next week, or even tomorrow. everyday i pray for the storm to passover me, over my family and loved ones. everyday i ask my heavenly Father to please let it stop, daddy, please let it stop. i pray for safety and protection for my husband, for my children and myself. i ask for wisdom to learn what God might teach me through all of this. i surrender myself and my loves over and over again and ask what it means to let go and hold loosely to the things in this life. i give Him everything and then take it all back again, in fear.

oh dear God, may it be that my family and i can stand because of Your great love for us and may our foundations go deep in you...

“the rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock.” ~matt 7:25 (niv)

pearls and silver and starfish, oh my!

it’s all about pearl necklaces and bridesmaids jewelry this season at hazelnut cottage, and here are some new silver necklaces i’m adding to the shop this weekend...

{ starfish and calcedony necklace, at hazelnut cottage }

{ pearl, starfish and teeny monogrammed tag necklace at hazelnut cottage }

these pearl necklaces are listed as bridesmaids jewelry, but really, these necklaces are just the thing for any sea loving girl, doncha’ think?!

{faceted pearl necklace, at hazelnut cottage}

here are a few simple beauties...this one, a faceted teardrop. reminds me of a girl in a white dress, standing against the wall at her first dance...

{ the sweetest days pearl necklace, at hazelnut cottage }

"i believe the nicest and sweetest days are not those on which anything very splendid or wonderful or exciting happens, but just those that bring simple little pleasures, following one another softly, like pearls slipping off a string." ~l.m. montgomery

{ pearl cluster, ladies in waiting necklace, at hazelnut cottage }

and another pearl bridesmaid’s necklace that makes a pretty and classic everyday necklace too! more pearly goodness to come soon...stay tuned!

what i’m doing on pinterest.

with the current pinterest obsession by everyone online (not me of course, heh!) and the timely and thoughtful discussions over artist’s rights being violated due to lack of consistent crediting (liv lane has written a lovely post here), i realized two things:

1. artists should be credited and asked permission to use their images at any time for any and all reasons and

2. i often don’t have time to ferret out the source of such wonderful images and inspiration.

this being said, i chose to delete the few lovely boards i curated and have happily set up my current pinterest boards to organize my own online art-life, so pin, pin away! and oh, i know pinterest purists will also point out the ideal that folks shouldn’t use pinterest for self-promotion either, so my choice isn’t a perfect solution, but one with which i can live.

here’s an example of one of the boards i have on pinterest. i pulled all of the photos from this hazelnut cottage blog:

and here is another board, featuring my hand stamped jewelry:

...more themes to come and more pinning to do! :) what are your thoughts and feelings regarding the use of pinterest and how are you using this awesome tool?

oden.

oden is a japanese soupy type of dish. it is very homey, very country made with love and large chunks of veggies and fishcake and tofu and other yummies. this is the first time i’ve made it, although i’ve eaten it before...i would have liked fresh tofu, but all i had in my fridge was the deep fried stuff, so into the pot it went!

the inside is just like regular tofu, but firmer and the outside is brown and chewy.

then i put in konnyaku. some people really don’t like the smell of konnyaku, but to me it has the aroma of nature, somehow.

the texture, too, is a bit of an acquired one. it is much firmer than jello and chewy. i love it!

then goes in daikon, fishcake and boiled eggs. i would have loved some lotus root and kombu, but my pantry was lacking...

i also put in some pork shoulder. i don’t think meat is a traditional ingredient, but i was feeding some hungry men (and one hungry me) and it seemed like just the thing.

{mom and dad’s place out in sunset beach}

it is a japanese comfort food at it’s most simple and perfect for these rainy, thunderstormy days...

and the rain came down.

it’s been pouring here in hawaii...our winter is finally hitting full force—thunderstorms and everything, over some parts of the island.

the rain has been coming down in my life too, drenching me without nary a raincoat to be had. illness followed by illness in the older folk in our families, frailty of mind and body. it is difficult to see the aging process unfold, taking with it as it goes...my artwork too is suffering. not enough time to tend to that garden, though oh, how i yearn. i am hoping the art will wait for me as i give my attention to the other needful things that i must nurture in this season.

i can’t even put into words the pain of being in transition, in being in the inbetween space, the gap of where you’ve come from and where you so want to be—and feeling sometimes, very alone and unsure of what the future holds. in these times, i am grateful that God holds my future and in His love is where i try to rest. it is the furrowed brow, the heavy sighs, the bad dreams and constant tiredness, a tiredness that doesn’t lift easily with just a few hours extra sleep. and the guilt of realizing that no matter how much you do, you are not being a good enough mama, good enough artist, good enough wife or friend or anything and everything...it makes this girl want to crawl back under the covers and eat pints of ben and jerry’s and not come out again until summer.

i guess the wisdom in all of this is that we can never do enough or be enough to satisfy everyone all of the time, not even ourselves. the truth is, we are valuable and loved and worthy of that love just because we are. it is a truth i learn over and over and over again. that i am, in God’s eyes, His beloved daughter just as i am because i look to Jesus as my savior. for today, this is enough.

little bliss list #3

{ hope hand stamped necklace :: ©  jan avellana, hazelnut cottage }

:) (most!) every friday i’ll be playing along with liv and the gang over at liv lane’s blog, where each week she lists things that bliss her out. here’s my little bliss list for this week:

1. grateful for hope. she keeps me going when giving up seems like the brightest idea all century!

2. blissed and blessed by my family, my two healthy, happy, sweet, wonderful boys and my husband of nearly 19 years.

3. thankful beyond mere words, for God’s mercies that are new every morning:

 ²² Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed,
   for his compassions never fail.
²³ They are new every morning;
   great is your faithfulness.

        ~lamentations 3:22-23