The Orchid Journal

(photo taken by me March 2012- Butterfly House. St. Louis, MO) Year of the Butterfly is the name I have given 2014. Normally I write this "naming" post earlier in the first month of the year, but I had to write my review of 2013 as my Nesting Year first, then I was having trouble describing what this Year of the Butterfly means to me without sounding hokey or cliche. I still may not succeed and this post may sound vague, but I will return to this topic often in the next few months as the meaning unfolds. During my first year of college in the Spring semester of 2003, I was sitting in my dorm window looking out at a group of orange butterflies flitting over the William Jewell Campus' historic graveyard. At the same time, I had been thinking about the ways I had grown in my first year of college. God used the butterflies as a metaphor for the change that had occurred in my life to that point. When a caterpillar wriggles along though it's daily activities of e...

art table for painting, collages, ceramic work etc. My sewing table is on the opposite side of the room {As a review and reference point for this post, I have been "naming" my year since 2012 . I named 2013 my "Nesting Year" .} Views of my living room: Bathroom wall and one corner of the kitchen: When I remember 2013, it will be filled with light, color, fun, relaxation, and lots of time with friends. Not only was it a delight to settle into my apartment with all of my belongings out of storage and decorate the space as much as I was able, but I enjoyed settling into the rhythm of my neighborhood and the new diversions and challenges of each season centered around life in my apartment. Because I moved closer to work and no longer had to endure three hours a day on public transportation, I had more time and energy to do things like meet up with friends for a picnic on Art Hill for their Friday movie nights. We went on hikes and visited the new wing of...

{A photo I took of Forest Park trees near the art museum, January 2014} Light changes everything. Color appears muted in low light, bleached in bright light, or nonexistent in the dark. Light brings out the blue or yellow or red undertones in a color and shadows form around the base of an object depending on the direction light is facing. Imagine Tucson where the sun sears a stark white light that changes depth perception and sends desert creatures (including humans) scrambling for the nearest shade. The light heats pavements to a molten mess and entertains those who experiment with cooking eggs or cookies on their sun baked cars. At night, there are white Christmas lights hanging in garden trees, regardless of the season, and light of fires in friendly backyard fire-pits glancing off smiling faces. The stars blink in every direction. Soft glows the sun in Missouri touching tips of grasses growing in the prairies or igniting the humid air with a golden haze. Summer nights spark...