stationery show recap.

as mentioned, meghan & i are back from our whirlwind visit to nyc.  and it was a whirlwind in the truest sense of the word because once again i tried to fit six objects into a box designed for four. just too much to see & do & order & eat in such a short little dutch-window of time.  i so so wanted to stop & soak up every little morsel in a zen-like fashion. but (sigh.) i was much more like the white rabbit in alice streaming the 'i'm late' refrain. when will i learn?  if nothing else (besides very tired feet) i came back feeling completely invigorated by all the great design i dashed past (with all the neon & foil it was hard to miss). and smitten with all the inspiring people i met.  and remet.  and meghan and i are so excited to get all the loveliness we did have a chance to order into the store.  and look forward to perusing the catalogs of lines we didn't (but will!) over a leisurely cup of 'be here now' tea.  and then we will unpack boxes / design cards / dust off treasures / kiss scraped knees & meet with clients. 

MY Grahamy (the brave).

i wanted to write about my trip to new york.  i really did.  new york was fantastic and inspiring and frantic in the way it always is.  but it seems far away.  despite the fact that it was just over two weeks ago. life has, once again, trumped art.  the immediate has trumped the most recent past.  

so here we go again.  another entry about the world beyond paper.   in fact (and bear with me) this entry is about the world of blood. and how that world has just taken on greater import in my life.  albeit, rather despairingly.   the reason being is that our oldest son graham - who is a flurry of words & movement & sinewy beauty - was recently diagnosed with type 1 diabetes.   our ever-curious, science-minded, book-devouring, chess-playing, ingeniously witty boy has a pancreas that is just not working properly.  in fact.  its failing.  

it was a day like any other.  to begin with.  i suppose.  there was this wee little voice that was telling me that something might not be right.   that graham was increasingly really hungry and really thirsty and looking more and more peaked.  and the 'growth spurt' theory wasn't really holding water.  he was getting thinner. not taller.  but i am, at the core,  a pragmatist.  and as my husband will loudly attest never one to 'jump to any conclusions.' 'diabetes doesn't run in our families' was my life-line.   and i was hanging on.  but zach jumped.  thankfully.  and an appointment was made.  and graham was checked. and life as we knew it shifted.  rather dramatically. we were catapulted into a world of fingerpricks & carb counts.  of doctors appointments and clinic visits.  of calculations and shots.  and more shots.  and then there is THE blood.  blood that we always hope to be just 'right' (but thus far never seems to be). 

if nothing else it is a testament to how mutable life can be.  how easily priorities can shift.  how amazingly brave a 10 year old can become.*  within a single day.  but you adjust.  and life continues.  and you truly appreciate the idea of taking things one step at a time.  because you understand how absolutely necessary that is.  and so when valentines day arrives you are equipped.  because its just one day.  one party.  one decision that it will be about LOVE (and books) rather than SWEETS (and candy).  ok.  a little bit of sweets (we counted. and dosed).  and you get through it.  and you realize what you didn't know beforehand.  fully.  that people have strength you didn't think possible.  yourself included.  and that when one thing fails,  other 'things' step in to assist and comfort and lighten the load.  and so i end with a thinly veiled thank you.  to our friends (which includes my support team at work and home).  and our families.  especially my unflinchingly strong husband.   to graham's doctors.  and nurses.   to modern medicine.  and synthetic insulin.  to running. (definitely running).  and to graham.  for being so hopeful.  and perservering.  and unreservedly lionhearted in the face of it all. 

* graham is administering his own shots.  has adjusted his diet without complaint.  and pricks his finger umpteen times a day. like i said.  AMAZINGLY BRAVE.  

NYC.

recap of a lovely evening with a lovely friend.  read about it on her lovely blog.  

my forester.

i feel its important, on occasion, to write about the world beyond paper. and design. and stuff.  after all, most of my life is spent in this uncontained slipshod space.  its a world of sticky fingers and mismatched socks.  a place of "why not's" (because i said so) and "what if's" (you'll break your leg).  its a realm of mutable and heightened emotions (as in "these are the worst shoes EVER!").  its a place where the perfection of patterns & the vagaries of the color violet have little import.  and order is defined not by what looks pleasing but by what has/n't happened.  yet.  

what inspired such poetic non-designy reverie, you ask?  its simple.  my son, forester.  today is his eighth birthday.  so this is an ode of sorts.  i don't do it enough.  and he is deserving.  he is, after all, the proverbial middle child.  as such, forester is both independent and inventive.  compassionate and insightful.  loyal and diplomatic (a necessary survival skill as he is sandwiched between some BIG personalities). he prefers art projects to soccer games.  calvin & hobbes to spongebob.  sushi to pizza.  

forester loves to ski fast and eat spicy.  but he also is cautious and conscientious.  deliberate.  even slightly indecisive.  in that regard he takes after me.  (i think.)   and he is one of the most exceptionally observant people i have ever met. he describes events and moments and the intricacies of his day in terms of colors and shapes and nuance.  and with a specificity that is just slightly 'beyond.'  in this regard, he takes after his dad. (i know.)   forester came into the world quietly.  but he held his ground.  and marked his path.  and for eight years he has marched along it.  slightly unaware (thankfully)  that it was such a uniquely 'forester-esque' path. and i hope he stays the course. that he continues to march to his own beat.  that he forever requests jalapenos for dinner.  and prefers drawing comics to watching cartoons.  

happy birthday to my dear beloved forester.  you are my SUNSHINE.   

HAPPY BIRTHDAY AMY!

a big happy birthday to monograham owner, amy! wishing her a fabulous day filled with lots of fun and laughter!{picture via felt & wire}