Gnomes, art and magic

We have moved through the holiday. It was a low day. Neither the husband, the dog or the girl got out of jammies all day. I changed from pjs into lounge wear, and then back again at the appropriate time. I also did not make a single cohesive meal all day, since we had a ton of leftovers from Christmas Eve. We ate carrots and dip for lunch. I watched a documentary on Heidi Fleiss and the newest HP movie and needle felted most of the day (I made a gnome environment). I didn't get on-line after morning coffee (does blackberry reading count?) I took three baths, and helped my daughter fall in love with a firetruck. And didn't lift the shades once.

I was depressed, I suppose. My kid died. I imagine most Christmases will have a twinge of ache for what isn't. I was thankful for not having to be present for anyone but this little family. We just say no these days to invites we can't handle. We do not push ourselves to be jolly. There were moments of absolute silent heartbreak. When I heard my husband say to his mother, "It is just the three of us today." When I read one of Bea's new books with a character named Lucy and Bea asked if it was our Lucy. When the fourth stocking hung empty next to ours. (Why did I even put it up?) My sister-in-law called and told me she was thinking about us this week. She also lost a child at 40 weeks many years before I came on the scene. In the early weeks, she called, but I haven't talked to her since March. I do not begrudge her that. I cannot imagine being eight years out and be thrust into that raw space of loss again. She asked me if I felt Lucy all around. And I didn't know what to say to her. No, I don't. No, I didn't. That is the fucking problem. I am bereft of imagination or sensitivity. I can't dream her. I can't see her in shadows. She isn't in my arms. I have no magic.

Still, I know that if Lucy were anywhere, it would be with me. I am all she knew. I love her more than the air. But sometimes, just for a minute, I'd like to feel her again.

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A number of times in the past few months, someone has asked me a question like "Gnomes?" And I realize that I never really answer that question. We sort of enjoy gnomes around the house. If something unexplained happens, we attribute it first to gnomes, and then find out the real story. We have this incredible book called The Secret Life of Gnomes. It is quite famous. (the cover is at the left) If you have seen anything about gnomes, this is probably the book. It is kind of largish, and has beautiful illustrations about the gnome world. There is also a Gnome Christmas, illustrated by Rien Poortvielt too. I just love the universe of gnomes. So magical and beautiful. If you have never looked through it, it is quite incredible--elaborate and detailed. When Beatrice is underfoot and being impatient, I tell her to grab the gnome book. She can look at it for an inordinate time. After Bea turned one, I looked for small toys to litter my diaper bag. And I found a woman on Etsy who makes beautiful gnomes, and then it became a "thing," I suppose, since we began traveling with gnomes. I made them a "gnome pocket" to house them on the road. When she is bored, in doctor's offices, waiting for dinner, or just on the train, I pull them out and we have adventures with our gnomes. I created a moss environment to house the gnomes when we are home. I have taken it down recently, but that is what the picture is below. Gnomes and mushrooms. I admit I always have had a garden gnome, even when I didn't have a garden. I called him kitchen gnome, and he sat in my kitchen. He still does. He is what I am kissing in my profile picture.

So, why gnomes? I have no friggin' idea. I wouldn't wear gnome t-shirts or have gnome-inspired housewares, though occasionally I do say answer the "what's up" question with "Just hangin' with my gnomies."  We aren't into tacky gnomes, just hiding gnomes around the house, imagining they do stuff for us, help animals...everyone has a thing. And this is ours. But connecting the above to the middle, I suppose, part of it is a desire for some magic in our world. For a hidden world where little beings are kind to the universe and live for five centuries and always have living babies and rarely die and eat bread made out of one acorn, one walnut, one hazelnut...you know, magic. I miss magic.

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So apropos of nothing, last night, I got six anonymous comments asking me to check out pictures, buy Via.gara and/or invest in Panamanian real estate. And while I am intrigued, I also accidentally erased a comment I wanted, and so I am going anonymous-less. Sorry to anyone who commented that way. I suggest opening an anonymous gmail account that is something like ihateangie(at)gmail(dot)com or yaygnomes(at)gmail(dot)com. Alright, that might be taken, but you know, I hate to limit communication in this way, but that Anonymous dude is such an a-hole.

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I also want to remind everyone again to submit something to still life 365. I am so excited for my new project, but I really cannot do it without submissions. No one really wants 365 days of my art...so please please consider sending anything in! We are starting January 1st. You can submit at the email stilllife365days(at)gmail(dot)com. More details are available at still life 365, or just email me. I'd be happy to talk to you more about it.

YAY, art.