Knowing When to Back Out

Recently, my family has taken up Kayaking. We load the boats on the roof rack and head to the nearest waterway (flat or gentle current, thanks!).

Our brand of kayaking is relaxing, quietly paddling up to deer taking a drink on the riverbank. You displace mere inches of water so you can navigate very shallow waterways motorboats wouldn’t dare tread.

When I learned to paddle, I was concerned about running upon obscured underwater debris. At first, the thought of getting stuck on some submerged mystery junk freaked me out. My husband (and instructor), in his very no nonsense way, said, “You are going to run up on something and you’ll feel it. Don’t panic, just use your paddle and back out.”

On one of our first trips, we paddled into a shallow, murky lagoon. Half way in, our paddles touched bottom and we had to dig in and back out. I felt so much better once I was free floating and mobile again.

I’ve had to back out a few times since but I’m more confident about exploring shallow areas. I’ve run aground on a sandbar trying to get close to some geese and run up under some low hanging blackberry bushes trying to eat some ripe berries but in all those circumstances, I just used my trusty paddle and backed out.

The lesson crosses over into freelance design as well. Knowing when to “back out” can be a lifesaver.

I had a client last year who was eager for me to enter into a long-term contract that would require me to travel and put very long hours in away from my home and family. I was unsure if I had the physical and mental resources to take on this added responsibility. I worried that this very demanding client would make my work for other long-standing clients suffer or even disappear and farming the work out to another designer was out of the question. There were so many other warning signals I can’t begin to enumerate.

After much contemplation about the pros and cons of this job — what the hidden cost of it might be — I made the decision to turn it down. I sensed it was time to dig in and back out.

I wrote a professional letter to them explaining that I would not be able to take the job. To my surprise, the client was furious that I turned them down and I even got some hate email from them. They thought I’d be attracted to the money which in the long run would have been a loss.

The experience was upsetting but reassured me that I had made the right decision.

A month later, I was hospitalized with a serious illness. My entire world stopped short for months while I healed. All my freelance, full-time and other work screeched to a halt. I was touched to hear from long-time clients who cared enough about me to put their projects on hold in anticipation of me getting back in the saddle.

It’s been more than 9 months since that ordeal. I don’t regret a thing. I made a conscious decision about not taking on a job that would have probably destroyed me. I let go what turned out to be a red-flag client. I have my health back, my life is much less stressful and my work has improved and I’m moving in a direction that I really want to go in. I’m in free water again and able to navigate clear on through.

a reminder…

‘nuf said…

TT

ten things…a quick list

I admit taking my cue for this from my fav illustration blogger, Penelope.

So here’s my list of ten things to be happy about right now…(how’s that for being positive?).

1. long walks in the warmer weather
2. my sketchbook
3. a new wacom tablet
4. completing projects that have been hanging over my head for months
5. seeing the first robin (come on Spring!)
6. my warm, fuzzy cat curled up purring on the footstool
7. cinnamon oatmeal and watching the Upside Down Show with my son in the morning (it’s hilarious even if it is a kid show)
8. Kimya Dawson’s music and the entire Juno soundtrack
9. red zinger tea
10. spiritual growth (developing a closer relationship with God)

The weather has been completely nutty here and my allergies are kickin’ in. It makes being positive a struggle when you are coughing and struggling to breathe (not something one should take for granted). I did notice the first robin of the warm season yesterday afternoon and had to take a very happy mental note as he marks the beginning of the season I love best and the ending to a very long, dark winter during which I was deathly ill.

Getting dangerously close to one’s own mortality can be a life-changing and humbling event. Trust me. So here I am, alive and enjoying what I have right now. That’s not an easy thing to do.

Cheers to all of you!

TT

Rain at last…

Oh, glorious precipitation! I am tempted to go out and do a little dance in the puddles.

I never thought I’d be so thankful for a dreary rainy day. But it has been so dry for so long here in Virginia, rain is what we’ve been praying for. I was beginning to wonder if my beautiful east coast home was turning into a dustbowl. My poor yard is parched, making the chore of mowing the few straggling weeds that persist a dust storm. Everyone I know has been suffering with horrible allergies to include my poor cats. (Have you ever heard a cat sneeze? Poor little furballs.)

We’ve been on water rationing for weeks now. Perhaps this will last and we’ll see our reservoirs fill up again. Rain is a good, good thing.

TT

Smack in the Middle

Middle School seems to be one of the most awkward time periods in a young person’s life.
I have a child right smack in the middle of middle school and it’s just drama, drama, drama on a regular basis.
I remember those horrible middle years (11 - 14). Needless to say, they were anxiety ridden even way back then in the 1980s.

Your peers hate you or like you depending on what day it is. Gossip flies unchecked through the halls. Everyone is busy establishing their identity — worried about the kind of clothes they wear, how they do their hair, whether or not they are accepted by the others around them.

I was a soft-hearted, creative (go figure), naive child who was a terrible nerd (and I still am). I was not at all popular. In fact, I was quite the contrary. I was not terribly well dressed due to the fact that my mother’s single parent salary couldn’t support the latest Izod and Members Only gear (remember those?). I wore many hand-me-downs and second hand store clothes (I remember this pair of red velvet bell bottoms I had in the sixth grade…oy!) Being a non-athletic, pudgy girl with glasses and long ponytails didn’t help things much either. I was teased mercilessly.

There were a handful of us girls, similar types who loved to draw and write, read graphic novels and watch anime and fantasize about being someone else other than ourselves. There’s safety in numbers, right? I can see all their faces and remember their names despite the fact that I haven’t seen them in a good 15-20 years. Susan, Tracey, Catherine, Jerri, — I wonder what happened to all of them. The best time of the day was our lunch break where we sat together, collaborating on some new horse-lover’s club, or drawing our favorite character or talking about the latest Star Blazers episode.

The funny thing is, my daughter is so much the same. She has her little lunch-bunch that she has melded with and they draw and talk and make up stories and characters. It is so amazing to me to see the parallels in our lives. The names and faces may have changed but at the heart of it, it’s the same story and song.

Life does go on. You survive all the adversity and realize that the things you were teased about make you wonderfully unique. If you are smart, you exploit that difference and make it part of that identity you sought out so long ago - in the surreal land called middle school.

Cupajoe…

I drink way too much coffee and not enough water. Of this bad habit, I am well aware. Akin to my efforts to get organized, I have purchased wonderful products with the promise of inspiring myself to drink more water (the very nice insulated water bottle with the built in straw, for instance) but most of the time, I’d rather have coffee or a big bottle of diet pepsi. It’s a constant battle. I read the womens’ magazines — I know water provides many benefits — clear skin, appetite control and the like, but I just can’t bring myself to drink the requisite amount I’m supposed to in a day. I have to have some sort of vice. I don’t smoke nor do I really drink with any regularity (a glass of really good wine here and there is about it for me).

So why am I beating myself up over a little diet soda? Hey, I try. I need caffeine to get me through the day’s ups and downs. I, like so many designers and illustrators, spend the majority of my time in front of a big computer screen. It’s a lonely business for the most part…and sometimes a bit tedious, believe it or not. At my day job, (which I still have due to extenuating circumstances, like the need to pay a mortgage and feed my children) I also have to attend meetings. (If you’ve read my blog before, you know how much I love these — read: sarcasm).

Truth be told, I simply must rely on external stimulants to keep me somewhat conscious during these long periods of idle time. Thank goodness my office group has gotten a new contract with a good coffee service. We have a new water cooler, too, so I might just be more inclined to drink water in that groovy insulated water bottle.(The image was drawn of my trusty coffee cup in yesterday’s weekly staff meeting.)

Longstreet’s

One of my most favorite lunchtime venues has to be Longstreet’s Deli in on Sycamore Street in Olde Towne, Petersburg. Their food is always spot-on and the service is excellent. They also sell specialty wines and beers and have a great selection of imported and local vintages to choose from. The atmosphere is very laid back. It’s not unusual for the owner to prepare your food and there has been many a time that his wife would bring it out to you on roller skates (She’s a champion skater so don’t worry about wearing your lunch entr√©e.)

When my work and life took me south of Richmond (too far to warrant a lunch in the Fan or Shockoe Bottom every day), I missed the eclectic, quirky, yet relaxed atmosphere of the eateries in our capitol city. Longstreet’s filled that gap and continues to provide my friends and family with it’s blend of unique charm and excellent edibles as it has for years now. If you are ever in the area, I highly suggest checking them out.

This was sketched at Longstreet’s Deli, very quickly, in my little Moleskine book while waiting for our food last Friday.

Cultural Renaissance

The city of Petersburg, Virginia has long been in something of a cultural slump. Once a renowned commercial center for transporting and processing cotton, tobacco and metal, produced and shipped from the region, the city boasted a thriving ironworks industry whose remnants can be seen in the antebellum architecture that remains. I can think of several examples of incredible architecture just in the space of a few square blocks that inspire me. Of these, a highlight would have to be the Petersburg Courthouse, a gem in the skyline of Petersburg and a magnificent specimen of Classical Revival of from what I understand, is the or one of the oldest operational courthouses in the country. Also, of my favorites, is Battersea, a colonial era Palladian mansion and Blandford Church and Cemetery (where many a Traylor lies in eternal rest) that boasts an impressive collection of Tiffany stained glass windows.

I tend to head down to the city when I am looking for some external inspiration. The Olde Towne District is one of my favorite haunts. It’s the city’s hub of the arts renaissance. TT and I can often be found gallery hopping on Second Friday for the Arts. We frequently visit the Petersburg Regional Art Center (PRAC). It’s a fantastic date night with loads of great restaurants and things to do. I’ll post links to a few of our fave eateries next time.

TT

Just Beachy

My favorite time to be on the beach is at night (but I’ll settle for morning or afternoon, too. A bad day on the beach is better than a good day at work.)

The ocean at night is black velvet…perforated with a thousand pin pricks of light. Sea and sky are joined only to be momentarily divided by white caps of foam that crash — herds of white horses galloping to the shore.

I have the best memories of being on the sand at night…chasing sand crabs. We perfected the catching of the little creatures by moonlight. It takes a quick eye to spot the movement in the shadows but a light of any sort spooks them and then you’re out of the chase. So you focus and train your eye to spot the subtle movements in the colorless sand.

Once spotted in their nocturnal movements, a handful of sand tossed on them will stop them short. Then you can, if you move briskly, scoop their tiny bodies up in cupped hands. They tickle as they struggle in their temporary prison, desperate to be on their way and somewhat angry with you for interrupting their mission. So we set them gently down…to run along to wherever clandestine destination sand crabs seek.

We taught the girls, (KT, my daughter, and TT and WT, my nieces) to catch them, too. They can outdo any boys on our nighttime hunts. They have past proven performance, much to the shock of some young bucks from New Jersey. I thought I was going to laugh myself silly when WT threatened to toss her catch onto one of the curious boys causing him to jump back and screech like a girl!

It’s a dance of sorts…to run along with the tiny denizens of the night beach. A raucous, playful sort of dance with giggles and leaps and then stillness as one observes a small part of life caught up for an instant then let loose.