Beautiful Moments.

This weekend was filled with beautiful people, autumn traditions, and celebrations of artists both near and far. It was the kind of weekend I always aim to have, the kind of weekend that leaves you fulfilled for the rest of the week.

Friday evening I hosted an art opening at my house in the space I run called Project 1612. It's an alternative art space that is going on its third year and the artist this month was Derek Clem. Derek's work surrounds the life and death of his step-father and his exhibition was a memorial of sorts, exploring his step-father's interest in movies, acting, and the color purple. I connected to Derek's work because my art also is focused on loss, but of a dear friend. I think one of the most beautiful aspects of Derek's exhibition was the fact that he was dressed head to toe in his step-father's old clothes. He was telling stories about each article of clothing and how his mom pulled the clothes out of storage just for him to wear. While Derek was telling us about the clothing, he pulled out of one of the coat pockets a tissue and toothpick that his step-father left. He said, heavily, "He touched these." Those two items, while mundane and typically discarded, held so much weight in that moment. Derek had never worn that jacket before, and just like when kids try on their parents' clothes or shoes, you could see his excitement and pride in wearing that jacket. It was a beautiful moment.

Saturday we had to wake up pretty early to drive back to my hometown for family photos. Let's just say it was a rough morning for me. Finley slept pretty well, but I woke up around 1 am to pump and then shortly after Finley woke up and wanted to nurse. I couldn't get back to sleep. Zach brought her into our room around five and from then until seven she nursed. It was exhausting. Zach took Finley into the living room to play so I could sleep a little while longer, and woke me up with breakfast in bed. It was a kind gesture and greatly appreciated after the long night I had. It took about an hour or so to get back to my hometown and we met the rest of the family for photos. The weather was perfect, with the sun beaming through the orange and yellow leaves, everyone looked cozy in their fall sweaters and booties. It was a beautiful moment.

We headed back to my parent's farm for lunch and pumpkin carving, where my maternal grandma and paternal grandpa were sitting on the porch waiting for us to all arrive. They were talking, keeping each other company, and enjoying the crisp October air while sipping their coffee. My mom had made tortellini soup and we all ate around the old dining room table, the only dining room table my parents have ever owned. With full bellies, we made our way back outside to carve pumpkins. This is where I became silently nostalgic. My parents grew these pumpkins and we carved them with the same tools from my childhood while sitting around my grandmother's old picnic table in the front yard. To add to the beauty of that moment, Zach and I were carving our daughter's first pumpkin and she wearing a little white bonnet that belonged to her aunt Jessi when she was a baby; the whole thing felt surreal, and I was trying to take in every minute. It was a beautiful moment.

Fin and I took a nap on the drive home and she was in bed by 6:30. I, however, decided to go to my friend Alex's art performance at a Soulside Healing Arts, a local yoga studio. Naturally, I was late and walked in shortly after his artist talk ended, but I poured myself a glass of red wine and joined everyone inside. The space was quiet, illuminated by candlelight, and the room smelled of sage. It was soothing, magical. The performance was based in ritual and Alex invited viewers to participate by writing on a piece of paper positive and protective thoughts for those they loved. One by one, we took turns at the table in the center of the space, where we wrote on a piece of paper, tied it up with pink yarn, dipped it in hot wax, and rolled it in white glitter. Then to complete the process, each wax and glitter encrusted thought was to be tied on a wire armature. Alex was collecting our energies, protecting and preserving them through his artwork. It was a beautiful moment.

And to wrap up my weekend, I attended a Celebration of Life for Chris Holbrook; a beloved artist who sadly passed this summer. The celebration was held at the Contemporary Art Center downtown and was filled with members of our community who admired and loved Chris. The walls were lined with his artwork, including prints, drawings, and collages. He had a prolific career as an artist and educator, and the room was beaming with his spirit. Many people from his life shared stories about their relationship with Chris, letters were read from his students, and his partner Susanne closed the celebration with loving words to Chris and those who loved him in return. Looking around the room, seeing people dab their tears away, it was obvious just how much Chris was adored. His artwork was his life, and his gift to this world was his artwork. It was a beautiful moment.