Discovery of a new Universe – a painting Project

20
Mar

Happy Monday all! Hope this finds you digging into whatever projects you need to get done this week, and making headway on all the things.

After talking about trying to gauge how best to use this space, I felt very affirmed in doing what’s come most naturally to me, which is to just share what’s going on without worrying too much about curating a specific image or narrow focus. That said, I’d like to share a recent project I documented. If nothing else it will bring some more color to your day.

Let’s get started!

Staring down the blank page

Now what?! I just grab things that appeal to me and slap ’em down on the page. My writing is a little like that too; I write those scenes that are most clear to me, then once I’ve got a flow going I can trace back and add in the parts that should have come ahead of that. It’s especially helpful when just getting started.

Slappin’ down some things to get started.

That’s better, but it looks too sparse to me so I’ll add some more fun in the form of paints and some tissue papers.

Trying to allow myself to use whatever colors appeal to me, without worrying what it will look like when it’s done.

Now when I look at it, something’s coming to mind. I can’t quite identify it yet, but suddenly I want to flip it the other way around, so the bottom becomes the top, and now there’s a person in there.

Upside-daisy!

The circles become the center of a person.

I like this, but there’s A LOT going on. It’s hard to want to cover it up, but this amount of visual noise is not satisfying. I like the way India inks play with layers, so I’ll try to use that next.

Here’s how it ended up.

Close up!

Overall I’m happy with this. What I’m trying to be aware of proportionality, meaning what will work best in a given room. This would probably be best in a smaller area, since the girl is fairly little. I want to begin working larger, but since I work so very s-l-0-w-l-y (in painting as well as writing) something larger would probably take me two weeks to finish. That would be okay but I’m also impatient! A difficult duo to balance!

Hope you’ve enjoyed seeing a little behind the scenes here today. I’d love to hear about any projects you’re working on, and how long it’s taking you to get them done! 🙂

Renewed Shenanigans

21
Feb

Since it’s a strange weathered-February, it seems right to finally do an update here. I haven’t been trying to maintain radio silence; I’ve been moving into an expanded role in a job that’s been developing on the side for a bit. It’s exciting and I’m now part owner of a small business, which shows you how little screening they do of these sorts of things.

That’s only part of it, and I could use your input with another part.

As you know, I’ve got a bee in my bonnet for creative experiences. Painting has been at the forefront for longer than I anticipated. My dad getting sick and then losing him made it virtually impossible to tap into the writing that I had identified with for so long. I’ve (mostly) accepted that.

[Shhh…I’ll tell you something extra true: there are moments when I wonder about lost-time or opportunities I might have missed. That’s my first impulse. Once I notice that impulse, I remind myself that’s coming from a place of scarcity and a place of worry that there are a finite number of opportunities available, a.k.a. if I don’t get one of these opportunities they’ll run out before my turn comes round again. I don’t have to accept that mentality, and I don’t. There’s more than enough to go around, for me and for you too.]

I’ve allowed myself to explore and develop other ways of expressing the roiling thoughts and feelings that have come in these years of wrestling. Paints, scribbling, ripping paper, smearing color – these have become a language without words.

Original mixed media art by TC Larson (that’s me!)

This is good; it’s good to have tools with which you approach the world. It gave me new ways to work through difficult situations and was useful then when, about six months after losing my dad, my daughter (I call her Princess Teacup here) was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes.

The diagnoses is permanent and it has impacted, well, everything. It’s not that you don’t get used to it – you do. It’s that by necessity, it changes so much of the rhythm of your life.

Okay back to you, Dear Reader. You can see that I’m a little all over the place. I could really use your input.

Painting, writing, creativity.
Type 1 Diabetes
Family, friends, silliness, and motherhood.
Encouragement, faith, spirituality, crabby wrestling with the Church.

These are all things that flow through my life. Does it make you crazy to hear about ALL of them? Do you wish this space was more focused? Do you wish you knew you could come here and get a daily pep talk? Do you get tired of hearing about grief and loss? Would you like to read snippets of stories I’m working on, now that I’m writing again?

This is when I turn to you, Dear Reader, and I’d really value what you have to say. Speak freely now, friends. I want to hear it. Your input can help shape the direction I go. I plan revamp things in order to better make this space reflect some of the shifts that have happened, and hearing from you would really help me.

Even though it’s been a while, I want you to know I appreciate you and the opportunity (there’s that word again) to share here with you.

Now get outside and enjoy this bizarre February heat wave. We’re all suspicious of it and are pretty sure it can’t last. Remember, the high school winter sports finals haven’t happened yet, and that’s when we here in Minnesota almost always get hit with a blizzard (click here for proof!). Don’t put away those snow shovels yet.

Since I’m already being “that person” and asking for things, I’m just gonna go for all the bananas and put this here: Donate and support us at the JDRF One Walk Fundraiser.

Third week of Advent: Joy

11
Dec

Welcome to the third week of Advent.

So far we’ve focused on Hope and Love.

This week’s focus is Joy.

Joy is not the same as happiness. There’s supposed to be a difference between the two, though it’s sometimes hard to put your finger on. The way I was taught, happiness was fleeting and joy was ever-present. I’m starting to wonder about those semantics, and whether the air of superiority about them is warrented.

Happiness isn’t a bad thing, but it’s short-lived. Joy is supposed to be a deeper down emotion, something we retain regardless of our circumstances. It has the reputation of being something cultivated over a long arc, something tapped into by decision and a squarely set jaw.

For example, no one would say they’re joyful when their house just burnt down (although no body would say they’re happy about it, either).

However, they might say they still have joy when they lose their job and have nothing else lined up, even though they aren’t happy about it.

So what’s the difference?

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JD Salinger is said to have written, “The fact is always obvious much too late, but the most singular difference between happiness and joy is that happiness is a solid while joy is a liquid.”

(He should have written “Riddle me this!” as his first phrase of that quote. Let me know when you sniff out what the heck he was saying. Thanks fer nuthin’, Sensei Salinger.)

Joy seems to be consistently connected to a spiritual state, a grounded connectedness to ourselves, those around us, and a higher spiritual purpose. No wonder it feels superior to happiness, which is rooted in things lining up the way we expected or a positive outcome we were hoping for. Happiness is almost a consumable good; joy is more durable.

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As I was working on an art journal page for this week in Advent, I was working in layers and trying to create texture that I thought I would then paint white, so the texture would be the focus rather than the color. The idea was to add white as a final layer, but it would still have undertones of darkness (Payne’s grey and quindoctraone magenta) and brightness (metallic gold).

I liked the way it looked, but it didn’t work the way I thought.

That’s similar to the whole happiness vs. joy thing.

This didn’t end up being right. But I started with the idea of having joy be informed by life experience and rising above temporary circumstance.

The second page I worked on, I let myself grab colors I like and just slap ’em on a page. I had received a mailing with the word JOY on it, so that was handy. When I put it all together it looked like this…

Take two. This didn’t end up being right either. It was too…happy. Bright and cheerful is fine but to me joy speaks of deeper colors.

Whoa! Bienvinedos a Miami! Here’s a soundtrack to match this art journal page:

It’s fun, it’s cheery, it’s upbeat. All good things, but not exactly descriptors of Joy.

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It all got me to thinking. Happy doesn’t get the respect it deserves. Happy is considered the temperamental cousin of Joy. She’s looked down on as being shallow and flighty, depending on getting the foam on her cappuccino j-u-s-t right, or adjusting her recliner to the optimum angle. She’s supposed to be nothing like Joy, who is the stable, responsible one, the even-keeled, thoughtful cousin who manages to keep her chin up in the worst of circumstances, when Happy high-tails it to the Bahamas. Why is joy seen to be so superior to happiness?

Here’s something I think comes into play. Many character qualities or personality traits have varying degrees, deeper levels of the thing. Let me explain and you see what you think.

Nice is a good quality. We want people to be nice. But nice is not the same as kind. Kind is a whole other thing, with generosity and consideration implied in it. You can force yourself to be nice temporarily, but being kind is something that comes from a different place in the heart.

Smart is a similar example. Who doesn’t want to be smart? Smart’s good. But wise is a couple levels deeper. I don’t know if you can be wise without being smart but I DO know you can be smart WITHOUT being wise.

Happiness is the first degree, the entry level, of Joy. Weeping may endure for the night but Joy is gonna come in the morning. Joy is the thing that you can retain in spite of crummy circumstances or hardships that make it hard to get out of bed. Maybe joy is one of the things that MAKES you get out of bed.

Maybe joy is what happens with happiness sinks down into your soul and makes a home there.

The third and final try at "Joy" ended up like this. I think it makes sense this way, which joy being a calm presence in the middle of the color and movement of everyday. Do you agree?

The third and final try at “Joy” ended up like this. I think it makes sense this way, with joy being a calmly present in the middle of the color and movement of everyday. Do you agree?

Whatever joy is, I hope you find more of it in the coming week.

Second week of Advent: Love

3
Dec

We are entering the second week of Advent. The focus for this week is Love.

The first week of Advent, the focus was on Hope.

That didn’t go so well for me. How’d it go for you?

I thought that trying to focus on hope this week would make me more full of hope. I thought maybe I’d see places that showed signs of hope.

Instead, it seemed to go the other way.

The good church-girl in me immediately went to the thought of Maybe that’s because Hope doesn’t come from inside us. We need to get our Hope from God and since this is Advent, and because it’s always the answer: Jesus.

But I’m crabbier than that now, a much more cantankerous, reluctant “person of faith” (if I even qualify for that anymore, which I know some people would say I don’t. But I’d be pretty happy to NOT be associated with that kind of faith).

Then, upon further reflection on last week, I remembered why being hopeful might have reason to be hard this week. It was my dad’s birthday, or would have been if he was still with us. He would be 70. It would also have been my parents anniversary.

These dates will not change from year to year, and they’ll always fall near the beginning of Advent. You’d think I wouldn’t be surprised by an undercurrent dragging down my spirits, and yet, I am surprised. Maybe there’s a lesson there for me, but I’m not seeing it yet.

Because this week’s Advent focus (I never know how to phrase that. We light a candle and call it the Hope candle or the Love candle. So do I call it this week’s Advent candle is Love? Maybe so but we’re not actually talking about the candle. See what I mean?? We’re going to call it a focus, unless you, Dear Reader, can point me to another way wordologizing it.) Now…where were we?

Oh yes…

Advent. Love.

Because this week’s Advent focus is Love, one the first things that comes to mind is to recount all the people we love, the things we love doing, the places that hold special meaning for us.

We probably also quickly go to romantic love. We can think on the intensity of love, the way it make us just a tiny bit crazy, and even the way it can begin with pure intentions and grow twisted in its desire to be reciprocated.

Love is one of our most universal connectors is love. It’s something we all feel, all desire. I think it’s even a force similar to gravity or energy. The powerful force of love causes us to sacrifice, emboldens us, spurs us to action.

Love, with a capital L, is that Divine force that unifies us and gently nudges us towards choosing generosity, selflessness, hospitality, honesty, empathy. It’s draw us together across our separations. It gives us the courage to set aside our pride and enter a relationship humbly.

This is the Love that comes to us as an infant.

This is the Love that reaches out to us before we even understand that concept.

This is the Love that enfolds us, comforts us, guides us.

This is the Love I’ll try to focus on this week.

First week of Advent: Hope

28
Nov

Yesterday was the beginning of Advent, the lead up to the big shindig: Christmas. Some people have been barely containing their excitement and now they can let it out, like this guy…

Most of us are probably a little more subdued about it.

Even so, Christmas receives a lot of attention. Wherever you may find yourself in relation to it, unless you plan to go on vacation to a very remote island, you’re going to find it hard to avoid for the next month.

Something that receives less attention, and which has been less commercialized is the season of Advent. Advent can be a beneficial time for all of us. It doesn’t have to even be connected to the sweet little 8lb baby Jesus laying in a manger wearing golden fleece diapers (did you see Talladega Nights like I did?), although the source of most of our modern Advent traditions come from a Christian practice.

Here’s the thing about Advent: it can be used as a way of resetting ourselves and zeroing the white balance (so to speak) on our priorities.

Each week has a different focus, and each one is something that most of humankind can get behind. Hope, love, joy, peace — these are at the heart of Advent, and I’d argue they’re at the heart of what it means to be human. Each of these values alone is powerful enough, but teamed together they’re transformative.

Or at least I hope so.

So, with the intention to post on each of the Advent themes, let’s turn our attention to hope.

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I think hope is a little like waiting for the mist to clear.

You can be walking along, your path one you’ve been on before, and then all of a sudden everything’s different. You can’t see the same vistas, and the air feels different, even smells different. You keep walking, just putting your foot down and trusting that the path hasn’t undergone the same shift. You know enough to be patient. You know enough to remember that this has happened before though it was so long ago it’s almost out of your memory.

You have reason to hope, even though the circumstances don’t communicate hopefulness.

Hope is a thing with feathers… ~Emily Dickinson

Sometimes the mist clears and you’re back on your merry way, the change temporary, merely a blip.

Other times, the mist clears and you find the landscape has morphed into something new and not entirely pleasant.

Ultimately the outcome doesn’t matter, because hope is the act of believing in the face of uncertainty. In some of the worst circumstances, it’s the possibility of change, the possibility of miracles, the possibility of a positive resolution that gives us strength to push forward. On the one hand, that has the potential to blind us to reality. Blind hope doesn’t always yield helpful perspective. But the presence of hope when things look dire, even just a glimmer, can give us just enough courage to get through to the next step…and then the next…and the next.

Dreams and Memories

23
Oct

Do you take much stock in dreams? Do you remember your dreams?

My kids love to tell me about their dreams. They can remember their dreams in great detail, every weird random endless droning detail, and they don’t hesitate to share this all with me. Some people — including adults — like to tell others about their dreams, regardless of the subject matter. They just find dreams interesting.

I’m not that person.

…usually.

What I’ve discovered is that there are some dreams that DO interest me, usually ones that have an element of revelation in them. I’ve thought about whether God uses dreams, like the dream Joseph had about staying with Mary, the message delivered by an angel. Or the dream Jacob had about the stairway to heaven that angels were travelling on. These are the exceptions to regular dreams, the ones where you can’t find your car keys or you’re in a traffic jam. But even recently I heard a story about someone who was travelling internationally and received a message in a dream, one that told him to wake up. When he obeyed and woke up (in the middle of the night), he was able to stop a thief who was in the midst of stealing from his nightstand.

Spooky, huh?

When I was a student, I had a recurring dream that there was a party going on in my room while I was trying to study. This dream only happened when I was stressed and busy. It meant I would wake up tired, stressed and busy even after doing what supposed to replenish my body and mind.

In recent years, however, I remember very few of my dreams.

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My sister has had a few dreams about our dad since he passed away two years ago.

I’m pretty envious of her. I’ve only had two.

The thing with dreams of someone you love is that your brain knows you’re dreaming, even while you’re trying to shut it up so you can enjoy the unexpected opportunity to visit with him. You know it isn’t real, but you don’t want to know that, since dreams are supposed to be a break from reality, aren’t they? I mean, dreams are supposed to be places were we can do anything we want. Why burden them with a reality check when we’re supposed to be busy flying around or doing things we could never do in real life.

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I was taught to control my dreams. When I had a bad dream, my parents told me to make the scary thing (often a bear, now that I think of it) give me a present.

I’ve taken this and expanded on it for my kids. We’ve talked to them about turning the thing into a bubble and then pop it, turn it into a dandelion and blow it away, or even shrink it until it’s attempts to be scary become laughable.

What I haven’t tried is to focus on being able to make something happen in my dreams. I don’t think I have the courage to try and see my dad in my dreams. I want to preserve true memories I have of him, and I wonder if dreaming about him will introduce an un-real memory of him. I’ve already incorporated one of my sister’s dreams into my own memory banks, probably because the dream gave me comfort even as it was bittersweet.

I want to have real memories, and I want these to be separate from my dreams.

United in Loss

22
Apr

Prince passed away yesterday. My husband texted me and asked if I had heard the news.

His joke landed flat.

I told him to quit joking because it wasn’t funny.

Especially because it wasn’t a joke.

I grew up in the height of Prince’s celebrity, and followed his evolution as an artist. I lived in Minneapolis and in Chanhassen during his rise to stardom, so I’ve absorbed exposure to him through the air, through the water. A couple friends and I used to try and discover his Paisley Palace in the backwoods of Chanhassen, thinking we could catch a glimpse of the mysterious rock star.

You can’t live here, especially having been through the 80’s, and not feel some kind of hometown pride about him. He changed his name to a unpronouncable symbol as an act of defiance, people. You don’t just do that without earning props. His talent was legendary and his dedication to Minneapolis was undeniable.

These are my people y’all.

People come out to honor Prince with singing.

Death comes to us all, doesn’t it.

Too soon, too soon.

Grit and Grace: Vulnerable stuff in the Phoenix Soul Magazine ‘Reborn’ Issue

15
Jan

You may not have noticed in my previous post, but I was really excited about something — think puppy-chasing-its-tail-in-a-dizzying-circle excited. I had to wait to tell you until now, but now I can share.

Wanna know what I was so excited about?

Do ya,

do ya,

do ya?

Okay, I’ll try to maintain my composure and be professional about this, but I don’t know how long I’ll be able to maintain that façade so I’ll make this quick:

I got to contribute something to The Phoenix Soul Magazine. It’s an indie e-magazine with essays, poetry, artwork and a beautiful layout. The whole vibe is honest and real, seeking beauty in the midst of mess and looking for shining moments in the middle a storm. The curator, Amanda, has a beautiful spirit and is creating a really unique community of readers.

In this issue the theme is “Reborn” and my little bit is a piece of poetry (I read that with a Winnie-the-Pooh voice in my head), an art journal page to go with it, and one or two other short paragraphs. You can Click here to get your copy — and I think you’ll really enjoy it. You can buy single issues, like this one, or you can subscribe in larger chunks and get three or more copies as they are released.

Thank you for sharing in my excitement over this!

If you do get a copy, would you come back here and tell me what you think? Or you could share your thoughts over at the Facebook page?

It would be great if we could get more people to discover The Phoenix Soul so tell your pals to go get a subscription, and tell Amanda, the editor, that we love what she’s putting together (she’s on Facebook and Instagram)! And seriously, thanks again, everyone. Mwah!

Investing in Yourself

8
Jan

This week I invested in myself…twice.

Before I tell you about it, help me remember to tell you about the exciting thing happening next week. I’ll loop back to that at the end. Don’t let me forget, okay? Alright, nevermind. I know I’ll forget so I’ll just tell you now. You’ll want to check back in here in about a week ’cause I submitted a scary, vulnerable something for a thing and now that thing is going to be available and I want so much for you all to see this because the thing this thing is in is SO COOL and I think people will really get into it and possibly discover a whole new resource for finding beauty in the mundane and other people who acknowledge the pain and rawness of life, so be sure to come back next week and I’ll have links to share and it will be great!

Whew!

Okay, back to investing.

The first was that I took myself to an exercise class I know I enjoy. It’s snowing here in Minnesota, I overslept and there was an expoential degree of hurry-scurry as the kids and I tried to get out the door. It would have been really easy (REALLY) to drop them off and return home.

But I didn’t.

I put it in high gear, threw clean clothes and stuff for a shower into a bag (the world would thank me if they saw how sweaty I’d be if I didn’t shower after this class), got the kids where they needed to be, and arrived at my class (a Latin hip-hop-cardio-get-yer-groove-on-type of class, if you must know) just as they were starting. And even though it was inconvenient to prepare to get there and also be able to do the other things necessary to keep things running semi-smoothly at home, it was worth it.

I am worth it.

Minnesota in January

The other thing I did that was an investment in myself was to take a step of bravery and small financial investment.

My church is hosting an art festival and has invited people to submit their art work. This is the second year, and I didn’t make it to the first year to see what types of things are a part of this. I imagine my stuff will be very…grungy by comparison. Also there the factor that they’re saying if a piece is not three dimensional, it needs to be framed. Like in a frame. To hang on a wall. In public view.

This sounds like a stupid idea.

However stupid, once I heard about it, it was something I could not get out of my head, so I’ve been working on something for a few weeks now. The only thing that remained was to frame it and bring it to church.

Did y’all know that frames aren’t sized true? And that canvases can warp and only be somewhat true to the size they claim to be?

Yeah, me neither.

I wanted to do this on the cheap, and I discovered that I could find my own frame and then have a store prepare my canvas in said frame and make sure it’s all ready to go. Easy, right?

The only problem was that my version of cheap meant trying to find a frame at a thrift store, and with thrift stores you never know what you’re going to find and in my case, it was NOT finding a frame the correct size.

Okay, plan B. I’d have the store frame it. after all, I have a coupon for like 60% off, so how bad could it be?

When your budget was a frame from Salvation Army, it turns out that it could be pretty bad.

The frames were gorgeous, of course, but the price was not.

No problem, Let’s go to Plan C…or D…or whatever we’re on by this point. After making multiple phone calls, and visiting two different stores — one of which had my co-workers wishing me travelling mercies and asking me to send postcards — I got the open frame I needed but the shop I got it from couldn’t do the finishing in time for me to get it turned in on time.

I was feeling really stymied. It seemed like maybe I was pushing against forces that were aligned against me, as if I was being held from going any further with this action. There have been times in the past when this has happened and it ended up being a protection of sorts. It’s sometimes hard to tell if you’re just in a busy and having a hard time getting everything done or if you’re being redirected by some force greater than yourself.

As I realized what was going on, and became aware of how frenzied it was making me feel, I felt something shift inside my heart, and I knew I could let it go.

I didn’t have to participate in the art festival in order for my canvases to be a worthwhile endeavor.

No one else had to see them at all, or affirm them or me.

They were worth my time and energy, if only for my own enrichment and process. Painting and art journaling are worth my time and energy because they have been good for me, so good.

When I talked to my husband about it, about trying to save this money by using a thrift store frame and squeezing the canvas in it even though it didn’t really fit, he stopped me. He told me I should just buy the frames new. He told me I should have the store finish them for me. He supported this attempt to put something out into the world (he didn’t say that part in as many words) because he knew it was important to me.

I was worth it.

I was able to get it to the shop where they’d prepare it. That part did end up being economical. The investment of time, gas for my almost-on-empty tank, and energy was…let’s just say it was less than economical. But it didn’t matter if I was saving time or money any more. Because the expense was going towards a worthwhile cause — me.

What about you, friend? How are you allowing yourself to invest in yourself in this new year? What ways can you mindfully allow yourself the freedom to do what replenishes your soul?

Don’t forget to stop by the Facebook page next week, or check in here, to find out about the fun news I’ll have. There are links up on the right that should zip you over there, or you can subscribe and have posts delivered to your inbox — so efficient!

Season of Words – Final Week

31
Oct

It’s Saturday and I was supposed to post on Thursday. I didn’t post on Thursday. My week just didn’t allow for it. I’m going to have to be okay with that. I’m trying to be okay with it.

It happens quite a bit, that whole “life’s demands requiring attention” that conflicts with the way I planned to use that time. It’s a constant dance of compromise and balance. I wonder when I’ll get it figured out, or if one is always in the active process of finding the way.

One of the prompts asked us about a favorite childhood story. I can’t remember how many times I’ve read this story. Can you tell from these pages what story it is?

The quotes I chose from the story are: “It’s quite all right. He’ll often drop in. Only you mustn’t press him. He’s wild, you know. Not like a tame lion.” And another one: “Safe?” said Mr. Beaver; “don’t you hear what Mrs. Beaver tells you? Who said anything about safe? ‘Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good. He’s the King, I tell you.”

Yup, they’re from The Lion, the witch and the Wardrobe. (Just so I’m not getting more credit than I ought, the scene on the left hand side of the page was already in the book of fairy tales I am using for my altered book.)

The next batch of photos is showing how I put some extra paper in my book to build onto a page that already existed. My son came home with an example of a parfleche, or a type of Native American pouch, he’d made at school. It was the perfect way of including a different way of journaling. The drawings were part of the book, and I know the parfleche doesn’t exactly “go” with the page, but there’s so much going on already, I figured a little more wouldn’t hurt anything, and I out it in the right side because I couldn’t bear to cover up that fairy.

I found this quote and knew I had to use it. I had already put down a bunch of paint, so I simply wrote out the quote and stuck the words on the page. It seemed to round things out, even though I didn’t have the quote when I painted earlier. It’s fun to let the process take you wherever, to not resist and enjoy the unfolding.

My book is full. All the pages have been used and it’s been really fun to see it come together. For my final lage, I used a quote I saw on another Get Messy participant’s (Katie) page. I think it’s a great note to end on. Thanks for allowing me to share my pages here, and for your kind comments. For the month of November I’ll be doing National Novel Writing Month, and I’m trying to make myself share parts of my work in progress, so check back in November (or subscribe to this blog and have new posts delivered to your inbox) for a little portion of a story.

We are pieces of mosaics.

Pieces of light, love, history,

Stories glued together with magic and music and words.

~Anita Krizzan