There is a local family that goes all out with their Christmas decorations every year. Santa frequently stops by to pose for DIY photos, and they even have a snow making machine installed on the side of their house. They also collect for the NW Harvest food drive every year.
Every where you look is decorated, every square foot of the lawn. Aaron and I marveled at how much was involved. Not just the electricity, but the hours of work that must have been involved. I can’t even wrap my head around the planning, organization, and storage considerations for this annual project.
Gem marveled at the whole thing, too. “Mommy, Mommy, look, look!” Over and over again. Everything was so amazing.
It is a bit gaudy, and definitely over the top, but that’s part of the appeal. I love a little exuberance every once in a while; it can be so freeing and refreshing.
I toyed with the idea of a photography show intermittently for a couple years, but something always stopped me. I couldn’t imagine working up the courage to approach someone about showing my work. I wasn’t sure my work was good enough.
I was scared – scared of both failure and success.
Then one day in the middle of a conversation with the owner of a coffee shop that I just adore, I took a deep breath and then blurted out a question that was something along the lines of “how do you select artists for your exhibits?” I can’t remember exactly how I asked, I could hear my pulse in my ears. But I chose well; the person I asked was one of the nicest people I know. By the end of the conversation, I had a show booked for October, nine months away at that time.
Of course, there was quite a bit of work left to do, but I managed to get it all done, and showed up October first to hang 25 pieces with the help of my unpaid intern:
she was a lot of help. [ahem]
I can’t express what it felt like to see my work up on the walls.
Even better, we had a reception for the exhibit, with live music, a wine tasting, tasty bites, and my friends showed up to support me. I had so much fun that I didn’t take any pictures during the party, and that never happens. I will always remember that party – especially when I think about doing something that scares me. To top it all off, I sold a bunch of pictures, too.
It was a crisp October morning, 21 years ago that I moved to Seattle. I was 21 years old. That’s half my life.
I was the girl from the small town in Alaska. I had a line on a job, and a line on an apartment and roommates. Neither were set in stone. It was all a big gamble.
My friend, Russ, picked me up at the airport and drove me to the place I was staying. He pointed out landmarks along the way, as I experienced Seattle traffic for the first time, and the downtown towers loomed in the distance. I was at the same time wondering what I’d gotten myself into, and falling in love with my new home town.
The most important and amazing events of my life happened right here in Seattle.
I fell in love. I fell in love again when my child was born. I beat back cancer. I grew into my own skin and learned to love myself. I surrounded myself with intelligent, authentic, and compassionate people who share my values. Of course these things can be done anywhere, but in Seattle, the fit was right.
Access to art, culture, education, excellent medical care, urban villages with a small town feel and the benefits of a big city, mountains and water – yes, I definitely {heart} Seattle.
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