Heart Box Studio

It makes a heart bloom

I almost made it to the house without eating one single chocolate. Almost.

But there was the stoplight, the one that lasted two seconds too long and the open bag looming on the passenger seat and the wide mouth opening with Valentine chocolate pouring out.

Almost.

He sat upstairs and colored in his book while I cut the remaining paper and set the Valentines on each of the tables. I could hear his little feet, like soft paws, jump from the couch and the squeak of the wood under his heels. There was the telltale pull of the stool from the counter and I could almost hear his arm reach into the bag. 

There was the wrinkle of plastic. And the mighty rain against window spill of individually wrapped chocolates onto the floor.

Small feet running back to the chair, silent thud of chair feet on wood, and the thick pile of aluminum wrappers under one green velvet pillow.

Almost.

The tables were set, the red of the tulip opening just as the morning light crept over the counter. He held each Valentine in his hand and shook his head in seven year old boy disgust. Too much kissing on Valentine's day.

"Where's the chocolate?"

The boys are getting older. And Valentine's Day isn't a top priority for them. But it is for this mama of three boys, an opportunity to lay it on thick, all of the girliness I can muster in a house full of men.

And sometimes they surprise me. With their sweet words and open and shut Valentine cards made just for me. And the chocolate rimmed lip kisses and the flowers behind their backs. (Even if I am the one who bought them.)

Because it doesn't take a lot of effort to make this one mama heart happy. A couple pieces of chocolate and a few soft snuggles in front of the fire. Three little men and one tall Mr. And an afternoon with small hands making beautiful art. 

Shadowbox Valentine Cards

Materials:

1 sheet heavyweight paper (I used a large piece of watercolor paper)
Scissors
Hole Punch
1 strip of red ribbon (appx. 36")
Watercolor paints (we used gouache because I had a lot leftover in the studio and because it is so fun to say.) 
Colored pencils
Three small pieces of watercolor paper
    1-2"x 4"
    1-2"x 6"
    1-3" x 5" 
Ruler
Tracing Paper 
Glue Stick or hot glue 

To begin, cut your large piece of watercolor paper into a piece that is
10" x 22". Once the paper is cut, create folds every 7 inches. (a fold at 7", 14", and 21") You can use your ruler to apply pressure to the watercolor paper, as it can sometimes be a bit thick.

Cut a heart opening on the last box connected to the 1" fold. This will be the front of the box card. (Keep in mind this is only a three sided box.)

Once the heart is cut, pick up your paper and connect the ends. Punch a hole on the top and bottom for the ribbon. Be sure you are punching the hole through two layers. (the front and the back of the card.) This will hold the card together at the end.

Once you have your holes punched, lay the sheet out flat and trace your heart opening. Now create an outline that is approximately 1/4" wider than the opening. This heart will be the frame of your heart opening that will get glued to your card later.

Once you have the outline cut, go ahead and get your small pieces of paper cut too. You should have some watercolor paper left over from your big piece.

And now for the fun part. Begin with the interior of your box card. You will be painting just the two interior squares (not the square with the heart cut out). Create your background. Just the background. The students were making gardens so they made a grass and sky background, while some decided to make a seascape and did a sky and some water. Be creative. 

While the backgrounds dried, we made out interior components from the three pieces of cut paper. The short piece (2" x 4") will be set in the farthest part of the background, so the children made this a dark green grass. The long piece of paper (2" x 6") is the grass closest to the front so they used a lighter green for this grass. But, it is completely up to the artist. The children making the sea scenes, made varying colored waves which was beautiful too!

The last piece of cut paper (3" x 5") will be for the flowers (or a boat or even a shark! for the seascape scenes.) The children cut our flowers to be attached with glue to the front grass.

Once the pieces are dry, you can glue flowers to the grass. You can use a glue stick or a hot glue gun for a more permanent hold.

While these pieces are drying, go back to the big piece of paper and turn the landscape over. Paint the outside of the box card a desired color. We chose red, but pink would be lovely too.

One side note: Make sure your work area is dry when you flip your paper over or you will get paint on your landscape. 

And don't forget to paint your heart frame for the front! (Choose a contrasting color so it stands out.)

We also used oil pastels on the dry paint to add detail. So sweet:)

This is where I got pretty busy with assembling. Thank goodness for extra hands. (Thank you Mrs. Lowe!) So, not too many pictures. Once everything is dry, connect the punched holes and string a ribbon through the holes to secure the box. Fold 1" tabs on the grass pieces, and from the bottom, slide the grass/flowers inside the assembled box. Be sure to add your hot glue or glue stick to the tabs before sliding them inside.

Make appropriate adjustments to height and depth.

And wala!

Shadowbox Valentine Cards!

Your love....

It makes a heart bloom:) Happy Valentine's day!

To and From

There is still no snow. Just the quiet gray and black lined limbs of trees waiting to hold the white dust like vintage Christmas cards. I'll need to be patient. Shake my snow globe and visit the glittered, white fabric holding our little village of houses and snowmen. Tip toe past the beaded glass garland and pinecone band of elves playing their flutes and trombones on my kitchen counter.

We lifted the tree from the top of the car this morning after the boys scattered through the door and waved their goodbyes. There is always a moment, the moment when the tree is released, the twine once holding all of its soft white pine, cut, branches falling into place, waiting for the hands to decorate it. And it is in this moment, when true shape is revealed, when the gift opened, the bow torn, this faint line of love outlining the very meaning of these days. 

The boys will come home and rummage through boxes of handmade ornaments and I will teeter over the box marked FRAGILE, gently craning to place each glass globe out of harms way.

There are these words, To and From, gracing the cardboard and paper creations. The sweet scribe of his four year old hands, the jagged outline of fingers and thumbs turned magically into trees. 

And I think of his heart and the way it poured out onto the page. The way he reached and wished for this way to reveal this tender place inside of him. And the excitement bubbling and churning inside his stomach as he thought of the secret gift he would place into my open hands when he got into the car. 

And his eyes watched as I opened his gift, the tapping foot, the leap and kick of his toes, his arms swirling in the air, "Open it! Open it!"

And the anticipation of this love opened like a closed flower blooming under the soft backdrop of white snow falling, melting on the car's warm windshield. 

"I love it so much. It's beautiful."

And the shoulder up to the ear and his arms reaching to pull me in.

"Beautiful."

We made our own gifts this week in the studio. A papercut version of this love, a gift to hold behind our backs until the moment is just right, when our hearts can take it no more and this creation must be given and our heart and eyes seen.

"Beautiful."

So we brought all of the festive we could find, the cheer and merry, the happy and holy, and carried it all into the studio. The moments we made and gave, held and shared, and poured them all into one handmade poinsettia vase for a very special To and From.

And there was the imagining, the wondering, the waiting. The anticipation building for the glue and the cut that would come together to create a moment. To. From. 

And the certainty given to this moment, extending into the heart of another, the hands unwrapping, the toe tapping, the hands wringing, the heart waiting. And the string cut, revealing the true shape of love, held tight in these eyes and hearts.

Poinsettia Vases How To:

Materials:

Several pieces of tag paper or a sturdy cardstock in any color.
Green Paper in three various shades (dark, medium, light)
Red Paper in three various shades (dark, medium, light)
Liquitex Matte Gel or a simple glue stick will suffice
Wire cutter
19-20 guage wire
Needle nose pliers
One thrifted milk glass vase (Goodwill, Salvation Army)
Hot glue gun and glue 
Scissors

Let's begin....

Use your medium colored red paper to cut 5 large petals. 
Use your light colored red paper to cut 5 small petals. The light petals will be the interior flower inside the larger flower. 

Use your dark red paper to cut long stems for each flower petal. The dark stems will go on both the medium and light petals. Use your glue (either gluestick or matte medium) to secure the stems in place. 

You will end up with 5 large petals and 5 small petals, all ten with dark red stems.

Now, cut our two to three leaves for the flower. Start by cutting out the large petals with the medium colored paper. Then use the darker colored paper to create an interior petal that will be glued inside to create shading.

Create stems using your light colored green paper and glue them securely onto your petal.

Once you are finished with the leaves and petals, you can begin assembling the flower. Start with a sturdy piece of white paper. I use a nice tag paper. Start with your leaves. Placing a small amount of glue on your paper, begin creating a star, moving around in a circle. Follow the shape of your stems to create the star.

It is important to note: Do not glue the entire petal down onto the paper. It will create difficulty when you go to cut it off of the paper. Just glue under the center if possible.

Once your flower is dry, you can cut it out. Be sure to cut from behind the flower, so the paper it is adhered to is left unseen.

Take your wire and cut a size appropriate for the vase you are using. It will act as your stem. Give yourself a bit extra to create the coiled area the flower will be glued onto. Using your needle nose plier, wrap the wire around the nose of the plier until it looks like a small coil or nest. At this point I use the palm of my hand or the top of the pliers to flatten the coil.

Use hot glue to attach the coil to the bottom of the flower. I sometimes place an additional piece of paper over the glue when it is hot to give extra reinforcement. At this point you can place your poinsettia inside the vase! 

Use ribbon of your choice and make a special handmade tag of your design with words of love and merry wishes.

Your very own To and From.

XO

25 Days to Love....

Winter is near. I can hear him clearing his throat behind the gray stacked clouds and the fallen oak leaf making its farewell trip to the ground. There was ice on the road. The glassy tickle of a first frost. The quiet shake and hold, the white handed knuckles wrapped gently around each stem. And my heart jumped. There was a trickle of excitement, for the impending quiet and soft fallen snows. My feet woke the ground with each step. And I tried not to wake them from their deep slumber.

The light wished and fell and moved in the breeze. My coat caught the edge of the stem and a pane of broken glass frost fell to the ground. So I sat in the audience and watched as the sun found each crystalized heart and warmed it with its smile.

And sometimes it is best to wait, to let the heart thirst. To feel the build and the swell. And this time, this leading up to, it asks for the quiet nurture of candles lit in darkened windows, the gentle fire left to burn only in the glow of its last embers.

And for the cold heart, the heart waiting for the hand of warmth, it is this curve of love that retreats the frosted morning. There is a season between seasons, the wait. The flex and hold. The arched back, the holding close. The waiting for the sun to reach the heart, for fingers to find deep pockets, for the cheek to feel the red frost itch against the stoked fire.

It seems almost impossible to think of this coming holiday season, to move past days not yet lived. But we did. We journeyed ahead to lay a path for love to follow this December. When hands are held tighter, with cheeks fully flushed with warmth and wonder, when these eyes will fill with the reflected twinkly light on dark paths. And home is home again. 

Curtains opened, soups spilled into handheld cups and the stream of smoke from chimneys warmth spreading laughter and memory over the naked forest.

"How will we know when it's time?"

When the season is ripe with lit trees and cinnamon ornaments and the wayward holly berry is found under open cabinet doors.

And the smallest hand found freedom in the rise.

"What if we loved every day?"
"What if we all shared something that was ours?"

A smile. A hope. A dream. A card. A poem.

Our hearts. 

And the path grew longer.....

Our 25 days of Love. Our very own Advent Calendars.

And they began. With day one.

How will I give? How will I share? How will I love from right here? 

25 cards for 25 days for 25 hearts.

So they drew. They outlined and filled and placed the decorated expressions of warmth on each and every card. They stopped to laugh, to shake their tired hands, to reach for the artist's choice sustenance.....cheese nips and pretzels.

And their hearts became softer and their words moved between them. 

"What if I gave her a new toy?"
"What if I made him a a Lego?"

"What if I gave my mom a great big kiss?"

And the voice of every heart that ever opened its doors to the world, the voice that shakes in the wintery air of vulnerability. This voice, found its way between shapes and textures, watercolors spilling and laughter holding.

"But what if they don't like it?"

"What if they laugh?"

"What if it isn't good enough?"

And she needed to know. Right then. Right now. How will these words be protected? How will my heart know when to open its doors?

How will I know when it's time?

When the frost is thick and the sun is still hidden, when the dark clouds blanket the sunrise in its weight, when your wee path is covered in snow. A light will come. The rise suspended between morning light and nightfall's shadow. And one small stream of smoke from a chimney hidden deep within the forest will find your heart and pull you back home to this place of safety. Where love is real. Where love is strong. Where love melts this morning frost. 

And your voice will feel free to run past the broken frost falling and these hands will give and shape and hold. The moment the paint meets the page and the holy words are written....  

To:    

From:

Because this love you hold is bigger than all of the doors still closed.

Your words are the warmth on the coldest morning. Your hands bring color to the deepest shade of gray. This love is the first ray of light on a frosted morning drive.

And your love, your love is the sweet lit candles on a cold winter night guiding a lost heart home, melting the last bit of frost on one hopeful, curled petal.

Lift and Fall

It's been windy here. Cold and blustery, wet snow and indecisive rains. I've had a strong desire to hibernate and nest, to build walls and climb in and pull the blankets up to my chin. But my heart, the small girl alone in her room, spinning to see her dress lift and fall, the girl with the tippy toes and the ponytail on the side of her head. The girl who twirls her hair between her fingers and fashions the occasional purple jumpsuit with the tie closures at the ankles, she is busy making other plans.

There are all of these questions waiting for answers. 

"Can you____?" "Will you _____?"

And the small girl takes my hand and whispers,

"Come on. This way. Follow me.

This is what we've dreamed about.

Remember?"

She seems so sure, spinning around in that little dress, pony tail tight against her head, Carly Simon on the record player. But my old heart, the one with all of the ragged edges, and the places that have been stitched back together, this old heart, digs her heels into the ground and tries to stand against the wind.  

And I wonder, as my fingers twirl the hair between my fingers,

When will my heart look like hers again? When will this heart grow roots from the sky? 

 

I've been wandering these days trying to find her. Through the fog and the wind and the all of the reflections laid down at my feet.

In the paper and the cuts, the creases and folds.

In the blooming and growing, the harvesting and dying.

In all the ways I wish I could fly but remain grounded and broken.

In the tiny assurances, of wings folded and planted, beginning to spread out to my sides, preparing for the first of many flights into the wind.

Through new sets of eyes, three boys and the simplest of words.

Searching in new places, uncovering childhood with each overturned stone, she finds a spot in the tall grass to spin and feels her dress lift and fall in the wind.

In mossy jars and abandonment, there is a heart that remembers what it was like before the stitches left so many marks. Before there was ragged edges and rust that kept treasures locked.

She waits and listens and hopes that I will believe her when she says I am free, free to walk on my tippy toes and make believe under the tall trees that we are safe, that the enchanted forest is home. And sometimes when the wind is blowing and the world outside has crumbled, I can see her, arms outstretched to her side, the tall grass scratching at her legs as she begins to turn and twirl under the bluest of skies, while her voice is lifted over the wind,

"Come spin with me."

And I let my dress lift and fall. Lift and fall.

 

"You're The Best" dinosaur watercolor by Dallas Clayton, www.dallasclayton.com

Free love

Dear Valentine,

   May your days be filled with chocolate and glitter, doilies and lace. Let your hands find scissors and glue sticks and empty hearts to color with love. Fill your homes with the smell of cookies and cakes and wait till later to clean up the mess. Jump a little higher, hold a hand longer, hug with both arms and kiss with your heart. 

 

And if you find you have spent all of your hours eating chocolates and holding hands, well, then, here is a free printable Valentine for you to use and enjoy! Click on the image to pull up a printable PDF, sized for an 8.5" x 11" folded card. I find it looks quite sweet on a creamy white or ivory colored cardstock paper. Enjoy and share!

 

And for a musical interlude....one of my favorites.

 

Winter Baby

It all started with a winter storm watch on the news. The quiet anticipation of a snow day. This, being our first of big snows, he pressed his nose close to the window and watched for the first, fluttery signs of confetti to fall. My heart swelled with the idea of a snow day, a go out and play day. 

I am a January baby. I remember my mom telling me the story of how I almost didn't make it to the hospital, how the snow had covered the roads, the paths to where my heart would beat on it's own for the very first time. 

Maybe this is why this blank canvas of white always feels like a new beginning, the start to what is yet to come. And all of the beauty that lays in wait under this white canvas. The ideas ready to spread under thoughtful direction. All of this white, it buries and keeps safe all of the tiniest of seeds. The same seeds that will become the loveliest of gardens.

"If you're quiet, you can hear it snow." 

"I hear it."

This gray sky asks something of me. It asks for intention. It asks me to look closer, to find the beauty beyond the obvious, beyond the easy flowers of summer, between the shed limbs of lifeless trees. Winter is waiting, trusting, certain that something is being born under this blanket of white. Under the quiet and lifeless exterior, there is a seed and it is gaining energy, shedding it's skin, preparing for the day when it's roots will be strong enough to hold the heaviest of blooms. 

"If you're quiet, you can hear it snow."

"I hear it."

I have been working on a new shadowbox this week. An idea that was ready to bloom. Petals waiting to be made into flowers. Paper ready to be cut. Paths ready to be walked on.

But on this day, we went sledding. Because petals can wait. Because when the snow is past your ankles, you sled. Sometimes headfirst.

We climbed in the car with three sets of wet snow pants and one very excited dog.

And we made paths. And our feet felt the snow and all that slept beneath it.

"If you're quiet, you can hear it snow."

"I hear it."

And there were some paths that were already made. Ready for us to walk them. And we were led to where the flowers sleep,

And we took rest and let the snow bury all of our secrets,

"If you're quiet, you can hear it snow."

"I hear it."

We let our cheeks turn red without worry.

And in the end, when our boots were shaken and the coats and hats and lost gloves were laid to dry, I found my path once again, 

to the gray winter clouds asleep under the white canvas of a snow day,

to a garden of buried flowers,

to a heart ready to beat on it's own for the very first time. 

A tree for you, A tree for me.

Friday afternoon we picked the boys up from school and headed to Michigan for our annual trek to Dudeck's to pick out the perfect Christmas tree, not too prickly, not too crooked, with the sweetest scent of winter and childhood. Every year, I tell myself to get the tree up the weekend after Thanksgiving and it never happens. So, here we are, first week into December, and just heading out. But, I must say, it was a beautiful day. The first snowfall of the season, leaving a gift of nearly an inch, which added to my Christmas tree giddiness.

The boys hurried to pick a tree, knowing that a sweet cup of cocoa was waiting for them. Winner: 9' white pine. 

The sun was just beginning to duck under the horizon when we pulled out, the air still crisp on our hands, noses red and upper lips stained with hot chocolate. The full moon followed us home and lit a snowy path as we pulled the tree into the house.

I know it's just a tree. And in three weeks we will take it down and all of the dried pine needles will end up in my vacuum for the next six months, but for this one day, it's a little beginning. And for this one day, I don't have to think about the end. I can live in this one moment and watch the sun bow down to the fullest moon and bathe in its light in a warm, dark house. I can go home and watch all of the ornaments come out of the box one by one and see their remembrance, to hold their little expressions from years past, made from macaroni frames, pinecone snowmen, homemade salt dough hearts and I can hover a bit, just hover over the busy hum of love.

So, in light of remembrance and tradition, I thought I would share a little Christmas tree project we did this weekend with you. 

And next year, when we make our annual trek to the Christmas tree farm, and we arrive home, cheeks flushed, I will open the top of the ornament box, shuffle through the broken pieces, the lost macaroni, the missing lights and bent pipe cleaners and come across the dinosaur tree. And in that moment I will have my beginning again.......

held up by so many ends.

Once a upon a time......

I am just finishing up the final tweeks on this year's Christmas card. I have enjoyed creating these cards for my family and friend's for the past five or six years. It is really here that I have been able to experiment with my art and be brave with my words, always knowing that they were being sent out to kind and loving hearts, hearts that would receive the work so gently and lovingly, sparing me critique, embracing the pictures I gave. These little images, all the cutting and the messy glue, always reminding me of the source of my work, this season, this gift....of love is where it always begins....

I encourage you to give your heart this season, to be brave with your words with those around you, to say the things you want to say even when fear holds you back. Because Christmas for me is sharing this gift of love inside your heart, letting it fly even for just one day, when being open, and soft and vulnerable is forgiven, is excused and skeptism is held at bay by the twinkly lights and red, velvet ribbons. Be bold. Be brave. Be free. Be loved.

 

Follow The Light

There is something about the sun stretching its light over a field of corn that makes my heart take notice lately. The way the trees seem staged, the red flares of autumn igniting for their last round of applause. I have been carrying my camera with me everywhere this week, capturing all that is fall, trying to hold onto this last bit of light, knowing that this orange glow will soon turn to gray. 

So I collect all the light I can, storing it, holding it and sheltering it in these final moments before winter’s descent. Because maybe, just maybe, this light will be enough to fill my heart come winter.......

 

and maybe, 

 

it’s this very light that will fill my heart with the hope of spring.