Still not dead. Moved into townhouse. I have no curtains but I DO have my own bathroom. We will have internet at home by the middle of November and not before so don’t expect regular updates until then. 

My website will be up (and is up temporarily) to be viewed. www.theyellowroomart.voyagemg.com 

Check it out and let me know what you think. I’m not doing an official announcement yet because it still has a few bugs. 

Love to all.

I am in fact very alive. I have a home. I have two mattresses. I have a mattress cover and a cork board and hand soap and lysol and hangers! Not to mention my curtains. This is a good day. 

No time now. Must go pick up Sue (I have her car). Tess comes home tonight. Loving you all from afar. Please feel free to call me anytime.

It’s dark. Around you you can hear the breathing, snorting, coughing, popcorn-crunching mass that makes up an audience. The air is thick with hay and heat and expectation. The ring master’s voice rises above the crowd with in a baritone roar. A spot-light flashes on but it takes a moment for your eye to follow the light-ladder up, up, up.

There! Higher than you could have believed you spot the spangled leotard and crimson scarf around the neck of the acrobat. She’s standing on a platform where the stripes of canvas meet at the peak of the Big Top. 

Confidence oozes from every line of her body. You can see it even from the bottom of the well of darkness where you sit. Fear grips your body for an instant- you see a mind-image of her body falling like a broken-winged bird. The fear dies an instant later. Her confidence is contagious. She will not fall. She cannot fall.

Instead she leaps, hovers on the edge of infinity, then catches herself with breathless ease.  

High flying… 

____

Sometimes I get upset and don’t know why, so I pick the most likely of the things bothering me and fix on it as the “problem”. Laurie looked at me the other day and just said “Honey, all your nets have been folded up and put away. That’s always kind of scary, but you are learning great things.” And she was right. I’m not upset because of A, B or C. I’m scared because I’m standing at the top of the Big Tent and not seeing the safety that I’m used to.

But here’s the thing: I’m ok. I don’t need them anymore. 

I am that acrobat- spangly outfit and all. Most people could not conceive that flying is possible unless they saw someone do it. It’s my job to be confidant and brave and to do what I’ve been trained to do. A convoluted way of saying “Don’t hide your light under a basket”. 

I’ve left my basket at home and am hiking to the tallest place I can find. When I get there I’m going to light a bonfire.

I’m sitting at the Starbucks at Barnes and Noble with my computer and some hot chocolate. Jason Mraz is telling me that “this is what happiness is/ the wait was so worth it”. I choose to believe him; either because of his liquid-smooth singing voice or his utter sincerity. Or maybe I just know that happiness is the moments when we realize it. My hot chocolate is sweet, my table is near a window where I can watch the wind blow and know that it can’t get to me. I’m alone for the first time in fourteen days and I am soaking in the fullness of the moment.

Hence my poetical rambling. 

Tess told me today at lunch that here the life courses through her veins. She found an apt description for this place where I have landed. Life doesn’t just lap around your ankles here. There are countless moments of hilarity, joy, irritation, eye-rolling and adventure. I smell flowers and have a running tally for all the yellow butterflies that fly by. Two days ago I jog/walked around a golf course (NOT on the greens) and enjoyed the rain on my hands. (The rain also fell on my head and ran down my collar which was less enjoyable).

It’s not always easy to live where I live and sometimes I’m so tired that my eyes fight me during prayer. I want them to stay open and hold sleep at bay and they mutiny, wanting to raise the flag of snoozes. That happened this morning. The contemplative lifestyle is more effective when one is well-rested. 

I have a place here. I do school with Amber every morning. (Thanks Dad for the “don’t smile! don’t smile! don’t smile about math!!” trick. It’s saved my butt on the mornings when Amber “just doesn’t want to do school today”. Sometimes I help one of the twins with something and I clean the kitchen a couple of times per day. If a load of laundry happens across my notice I gladly fold any and everyone’s towels, shirts and little frilly skirts. 

I miss having a closet and furniture of my own. I fantasize about copper pans and a little twin bed made of dark-stained wood. My one major purchase in Wilmington (other than food) was an oak studio easel. It is not overstatement to say that my easel is epic. When fully extended to hold a 64″ canvas it stands something like nine feet high. The best part? I put the whole thing together MYSELF. Michael screwed in exactly two screws because the holes were not lined up correctly and I lacked the necessary upper body strength. Thanks Michael! I may not have a “place to lay my head” but I have a place to paint! 

The only other daily struggle is my lack of transportation. I don’t really mind it that much until it hits seven o’clock and I’m alone in the house in desperate need of a certain color of paint. Then I realize that I have no way to get to the art store and I get frustrated. 

HOWEVER

I really can’t bring myself to care a whole lot about anything that’s a bummer when I remember that I live with the Carrs. I get to experience the ocean through the eyes of a two year old girl. I get to do skip counting and explain long division. I get to clean kitchens and thereby bless the people who have to clean up after everyone. Sometimes I sit on my future roommate’s floor and eat ice cream and talk about men. Sometimes my evenings end with hours-long conversations with Jadon who makes me laugh so hard I cry. I love my home in Seattle. I love my parents with their wisdom and their senses of humor. I love cooking with my Mom and getting Dad hugs. But the life I have here in Wilmington is something that my heart has longed for these several years. I have friends my own age and a group of people to whom I am a blessing. 

On another note- my website is coming along nicely. It helps to be in the same house as your designer. Once we decide on a price (which determines the time involved) I should have a better idea of when it will be up for sure. It’s really beautiful thus far and mcarr is doing really quality work. 

I’ve been painting every day and I have two going right now. The first is an eschatological frenzy. I know exactly where it is coming from and let me tell ya, it ain’t me! The second is called “I Met Life on the Journey” or “A Place for Angels to Land” and is an abstract self-portrait of sorts. 

(This is the point at which the blog will truly cease to hang together… I’m just going to write down all the things that I can think of and you will all have to bear with me.)

My feet are always dirty at night. The last thing I do before going to bed is wash my feet. Then I walk on tiptoe from the bathroom to my bed in order to keep at least my heels fresh!

I’ve discovered that if I go to bed after everyone else I am able to do a little dance all by myself without fear of anyone wandering through the living room. 

Dreams are creeping to the back burner in the face of the glorious NOW. 

I could sit at wi-fi capable coffee houses forever. 

Sometime you all should check out grooveshark. It has every song ever and you can play them for free! (No illegal downloads, I promise Dad). 

Happy Birthday to Stacie Lynn Van de Weghe! What a blessing you are to me! May all your love be returned to you ten thousand-fold on this the day of your birth.

It’s cold outside today, though yesterday was sunny and pleasant. 

Ok. Time to do something else pro-active while I have this wonderful internet access. My love to the Harris family, the Mansours (who don’t read this blog), the Lewis’, and anyone at Village that happens across this. Love you Jen and Aaron. Kiss the Squeaker for me. 

So long and thanks for all the fish.

P.S. Jadon is going hunting on Saturday. Pray for a good haul!

I had a dream that I would write a meaningful and informative blog update for you all. Sadly it’s not going to happen. It took us ten hours to get out of the house and to a place with internet and aforementioned place is only open for another 22 minutes. Sorry everyone. Maybe during down time tomorrow I will write a better update and then just post it next time I am near a wi-fi signal.

Among the things that Tess, Sue and I deem necessary is our own secure wi-fi network. Once we actually move into a place we will get that set up. 

Oh yeah. We still don’t have a home. It’s less traumatic than it sounds. Tess and I are living with the Carr family. I help Laurie do school with the young ones and Tess is also helpful. We figure we’re saving money in the long run. 

And Carina is taping episodes of Castle for us to watch upon my return. Therefore all is well. 

Hope things are good with all ya’ll. Feel free to call anytime. I don’t do much around here and therefore I have LOTS of phone-chatting time on my hands. Much love.

Who knew you could get presents just for heading out of town?! All my extra family has blessed me with material objects to carry along on my trip. I’ve got a rocking scarf, two pictures by my back-up sister Rachel and my brother James, cookies from Barry, lavender from Granny and Tom and a tea pot from Stacie.

Not to mention the AWESOME measuring cups and spoons from the Harris family. 

So thanks everyone! I am now equipped to be warm while drinking tea (which was carefully measured out), smelling lavender, looking at pretty pictures and eating delicious cookies. Thanks to my parents my face will be clean and my skin soft. 

It’s a really beautiful world. 

Though I’ve had minor freak-outs over the past days I AM excited about going. The excitement comes and goes as the vision comes and goes. Sometimes it’s foggy and all I see is separation-from-parents panic. At other times the skies clear and I remember sitting in hotel halls chatting with all these hysterical, kind and artistic people.

It’s ok to leave home. It’s ok to go away for short times and have adventures. It’s ok to sit on the beach and not worry about tomorrow. It’s ok to hold babies and watch movies and walk and snack and talk to people wiser than me. And it’s good to offer who I am and what I have to people that might need The Angel of Laughter or the crazy-organizer or the Ultimate Napping Champion. 

I will leave you with a quote from The Office (since it’s on the TV right now)…

“You are a real-life wedding crasher and I must bounce you.” 

*bounce*

I had the best night at work, which is slightly ironic since it was my last night at work. That wonderful group of people down at Village Theatre blessed me so much. From my boss I recieved a bouquet of beautiful flowers, from the cast/crew/box office I received chocolate and quite the loveliest card. Combine those things with getting a free meal of crab cakes and french onion soup from the wonderful owner of the restaurant next door and you have a happy Meghan. THEN top all of THAT with one of my paintings being hung front and center in the aforementioned restaurant and I could just melt down and ooze out under the doors from pure love.

Plus there were hugs. Lots of hugs. Many hugs and well-wishes from the truly beautiful people that it has been my privilege to know. I tried to express my appreciation for all of them in the form of raisin/craisin bread and big smiles. I tried NOT to cry while reading my card. You can bet that thing is coming with me to NC. 

As I was driving home I was reflecting on why such simple expressions of affection would touch me so deeply. Then it hit me- it doesn’t often happen that I am on the receiving end of gestures of appreciation and love. Not because people are heartless and cruel or because I love better than other people, but because there are few lovers in the world. Rachel being the one great exception in my life. (I exclude family from this entirely, you guys love me great!) I just don’t think that many people sit around and think “I bet so-and-so would love if I did _____”. It makes me want to just run around blessing everyone I can get my hands on.

But in the meantime I am going to enjoy four years of faithful service in the form of nice notes, flowers and chocolate. 

Let me know if I can bless you1

“There is the same difference in a person before and after he is in love as between an unlighted lamp and one that is burning. The lamp was there and it was a good lamp, but now it sheds light too, and that is its real function.” -Vincent Van Gogh

Tonight was my fourth night of work on “Chasing Nicolette”, the latest show at Village Theatre. Let me tell you, if you like funny and entertaining plays (especially when occasionally there is song and dance) you would LOVE this show. I’ve only heard it four times and I’m already singing the songs to myself when I wake up in the morning. 

Tonight was my second night training our new lobby attendant. He is an earnest perfectionist who, at the end of the evening, looked at me and said “you are so vibrant and energetic. It’s amazing!” The poor kid was tuckered out after a long week of school and a couple late nights at work.

I like Village, I like the people there, I’m sad to be leaving them during this particular show. Boring shows I leave gladly, good shows are a bit heart-wrenching if I miss part of the run. 

Last night I went to my first opening night party in Issaquah. I chatted it up with box office associates, carpenters, techies, reporters, actresses and everything in between. I drank water and laughed and thoroughly enjoyed myself. (It helped that my vintage backless blue silk dress was a big hit. I’m a sucker for a few decent compliments.) It was another night of strangers asking me if I am an actress and seeming shocked when I answer “no”. I’m about ready to become and actress just so I can stop having this conversation. I got some pictures with Ned (the wardrobe mistress) who was also wearing a vintage gown. She’s short and dark and I’m tall and fair and when one of the actors passed us he dubbed us Audrey Hepburn and Grace Kelly and the names stuck. (Such things happen when you have a restaurant full of tipsy theatre people.)

So tonight I shall go to bed singing either “If you won’t give me a lifetime/ my lifetime is now” or “there once was a man, old love, cold love/ and I will sing his song/ he fancied a maid with the fancy of youth/ and swore to love her life long, life long/ and swore to love her life long” or “Nicolette? Can you hear me?/ Can you hear me call your name?” Because that is part and parcel of this life I lead here in Issaquah.

 I’m preparing myself to say goodbye to VT and it’s bittersweet. 

Looking forward to new and better things.

I forgot somewhere along the way why I love working at Village Theatre. It got lost in the swarms of little old ladies getting angry at me because the music was too loud, the cookies too pre-packaged, the sky too blue- whatever. Tonight I am proud to say I have remembered why it is that being a Lobby Attendant ROCKS.

Life advice from little old men. 

WIN!

Today I had an old man ask me why I wasn’t married. (Don’t ask me how it came up, it would take too long to tell you.) My response was something silly, I’m sure. Then it happened- he fixed me with one slightly reddened eye and said “I had a baby by the time I was your age!! You better hurry, miss! You’re biological clock is ticking!” 

Oh NO you DIDN’T! 

I haven’t had to try that hard not to laugh in a really long time. In black and white it looks like it should have been super offensive but it really wasn’t. It was bizarrely nice…

The conversation was peppered with little strange-sounding but kind moments. Like when he found out that I was an artist, considered for a moment and told me that I’d “better find a rich fella”. Or when I jokingly told him about my two former proposals (yes, I have been proposed to twice by two different guys) and he got very sincere and said “No. You need the pick of the litter, and you’ll know. You’ll KNOW.”

He made it better by  following that up with “But you’re pretty, you’ll luck out. Or some guy will.” 

Seriously. I love my job.