Christmas Thoughts

The magic begins with a baby, of course. And finishes with redemption. How can anyone not love Christmas!?
Christmas Night

The night is cold. The air clean
and clear. Spiraling stars fling
soft halos that illumine
the hills. There’s a quickening
in my soul: a listening,
not with ears—lingering
echoes from an ancient year—
I can still hear angels sing!

Something about Babies

There is nothing quite so thrilling as holding a newborn baby in my arms. The bonus blessing is when I am holding a member of my own posterity. Besides the miracle of birth in general, that awesome recognition that signifies hope and love and endless possibilities; there is the great light of familial bond in her eyes. I feel she is "recognizing" me back. I don't ever remember not being baby-hungry. Doesn't matter that I'm an old lady or that I could never keep up with the demands of a toddler full-time, any more. Doesn't matter that I am well satisfied with my life in its present season and enjoying other pursuits. Doesn't matter that the world is a scary place that may not be safe or sane for another generation. I simply ADORE a new baby. And this little Lucy-doll is pure magic.

Written in Stone

When Steven first took photographs of some cherubs in the cathedral at Passau, I was skeptical of their value. But after praying and pondering some time about what I should paint for the Springville Museum's Spiritual and Religious Exhibit, I woke up one morning with the answer: paint a cherub. This piece I did in pastel, since I was limited in time by then. It turned out well, and was accepted in the exhibit! Getting into this venue is not easy; I have been very pleased and gratified. The exhibit is really wonderful. It's a joy to be in the same show as other artists of such renown. Steve and I had a lovely evening going to the preview/reception for exhibiting artists. "Written in Stone" will be on exhibit there through December.

Spiritual Tsunamis

I've been feeling the pain of Indonesian parents who were unable to "hang on" to their children when a tsunami wave engulfed them. Children were literally swept away out of the arms of their parents. It made me think. If the families had been on higher ground in the first place, the wave could not have reached them. The implications are obvious. If we stand in Holy Places, and heed the warnings of prophets to keep on "higher ground"--higher standards, holy habits, etc. then when the wave hits we will be safe. No matter how tightly we try to "hold on" to our children, if we are in the flood, the force of that environment can sweep them away. Any compromise that places us in harms way is more risk than we can afford. OH, BE WISE! What can I say more?

Grandma Date

One of the best parts of being a grandma is to spend time with the children doing the things we kids like best. Here is a minute from last Friday, when Shannon's girls came to play. We had to create something "Halloween" so we made salt clay bugs. Of course, Emily can't possibly make anything ugly. And you'll notice Alyssa's holding a paintbrush in both hands. Sarah can't stop grinning--and like her grandma, she is very comfortable in front of a camera. :)

Ruffled Feathers

My adult student, Vickie, likes to paint images from photos taken by her son. He's done some wonderful things with close-ups. Mostly, I like landscapes, as you know. But when I saw this pelican, I was smitten. We had a great time together as we worked on this painting. But as I've pondered the bird, more profound things have crossed my mind. Isn't it interesting how we, too, can be at our most appealing when we're not at our best? Stress makes us vulnerable to kindness as much as its opposite. When we are confident and productive, we tend to be independent and on the giving side. But isn't it nice to know somebody who needs us? Next time your "feathers are ruffled," consider the possibility that it's your turn to receive. And that is not a bad thing.

Wyoming Interlude

Lovely weather made our trip especially nice. The kids and Grandpa spent hours at the park. The birthday party was fun. But mostly, I loved seeing Whitney and Sarah together. It's a special relationship that continues to flourish. I remember developing that kind of closeness with some of my cousins; we still count each other as best friends. I'm so glad these girls have each other. Of course, Grandpa and Brian are special buddies, too. And that may be the most wonderful thing of all.

"Be Thou Humble"

In Church Steve and I were sitting next to each other, otherwise alone on one of the side pews. During one of the hymns, my ear suddenly had an odd little pain (in the outside part that shows). I reached up to pinch the spot, kind of an acupressure method to thwart the pain, holding my hand there for a bit. But I kept singing. Steve was singing away, too, until I heard him say, "Linda, I know I'm a bad singer." That's when I realized it appeared that I was plugging my ear on that side (his side). Well it just struck me funny. I explained quickly to him, and we both spluttered and giggled the rest of the song.

Picnic, Park and little People

Labor Day BBQ has always been a fun tradition. Lately, though, I am even more enamored of the event because 1. I don't have to prepare all the food myself 2. The cute kids participating are my adorable grandchildren 3. The recreational part of the day has moved to the nearby park = less work, more fun.
I love adult chat with my grown children. I love watching my husband play 'grandpa.' And I love seeing my grandkids enjoy each other. Not to mention the great food, pleasant weather and party atmosphere. Doesn't get much better than this.

Kinderdijk

(Note: a polder is the land that is reclaimed from the sea by the pumping action of the windmills in the Netherlands. The miller's family lived inside the windmill, and were usually pretty poor; but the miller had a strong bond with his mill, and often passed on the job to a son. This painting is in oil, 10 X 8.)
"I love the wind," says Papa.
His hands fist around the ropes
to shift the blades
beating above us
in the gray sky.

Here in the polder,
the windmill and Papa
are partners--
pumping the sea
to the horizon.

"I hate the wind," says Mama.
Her hand fists around the spoon
to stir the soup.
It is too weak
to keep us full until breakfast.

Here in the polder,
the windmill and mama
are rivals,
paddling to the rhythm
of Papa's heart.
Linda G. Paulsen 2010

Painting Europe

With 1400 photos to choose from, why did I start with these? 'Cause I love windows. 'Cause I had limited time and pastels were a good choice for these images. 'Cause my student wanted some simple projects and I modeled these in class. And, I am working on an oil piece that takes longer, so hang in there. These are: "Coloring the Castle" --window from Nuremberg, "Looking Out, Looking In"--window from Budapest, and "Whisper of Light"--from evening along the Rhine River.

Heroes Have Heart

Here are some photos of Jeff, Jacob and Steven, the triathlon team that took on the Battle of Midway, 2010. Jeff swam a mile in Deer Creek Reservoir, then Steve pedaled his bike 22 miles, followed by Jacob running 10 K. Each finished with honor and big smiles. And those of us that came to cheer were equally gratified. This was one of the memorable events of our family's history. Jacob and Steve have shared running competitions, before, but never has anything of this magnitude in challenge and cooperation been attempted until now. Jeff joined, this time, making a team of 3 remarkable guys, each of whom trained for months, tested their limits, and conquered: a terrific model of endurance and unity. I love my men. They don't need to do something like this to impress me. But this was very special. It will stand, I hope, as a pattern of cooperation and effort that will be a standard for all of our posterity. This is the stuff of family legend. There were heroics in the spectator section, too. It was a long hot day, especially for Ami and Shannon who are pregnant. And the kids were troopers. Wow! And Thanks for making me proud.

Visuals

Trying again for pictures. The first is a typical sign outside a shop. And the famous St. Stephen's Cathedral in Passau, where we were treated to the organ concert. Finally, the wonderful Marksburg Castle. We were able to tour inside! How do I even choose what to show you? We only took 1400 photographs...

The Trip

Several people have asked me what was my favorite part of our trip. I don't know how to answer that, simply. How does one isolate one glory from another? The whole thing was a series of spectacular things to see and experience. I felt my roots wake up and wave at me in the Netherlands. I wept with joy during the organ concert at St. Stephan's Cathedral in Passau. And the incredible feast of castles, villages, and vineyard vistas along the Rhine and Danube rivers was something out of a dream. History is so old in Europe. That flavors everything. And making new friends was rather a special bonus. (For some reason, I can't get this post to accept pictures. So I'll try to post them later. Meanwhile, check my facebook entries.)

Summer Art

One of the things I love most about summer is the chance to teach watercolor classes to kids. I divide up by age group and model the methods for the kids to create a complete project in each class. The kids love it. It's so satisfying to see them light up with the pride of accomplishment. Their parents are always impressed. I had some first-time participants this year, that were so enthused that their parents rearranged birthday parties in order for the kids to come back the next week. This nest image was done with a group of 9-11 yr olds. the southern Utah landscape I did "one-on-one" with a 13-yr old girl that has been a repeat student for several years. That I may produce a marketable painting is a bonus to the project. Everybody wins. And this year I also am working with a couple of adults who discovered the chance to develop their talents. Great fun! Art is so therapeutic, for any age.

Death Penalty

I'm going out on an unusual limb, here, and stating my view of capital punishment.
1. If guilty of rape or murder, and guilt is proven beyond a doubt, I believe the criminal should pay with his own life.
2. I don't approve of years of prison, appeals, and other nonsense that cost the taxpayer thousands of dollars and only mocks justice. Even when the perpetrator has "learned his lesson" or "changed his ways," justice demands retribution. When life is taken or forever altered, the only way to compensate is to give a life in return. If repentant, the person is in a better position to meet his maker, but not in a position to skip the consequences of past choices.
3. Death should be humanely delivered. But the criminal has forfeited his rights by the choices made, and is not qualified to balk at the methods or timing. And the timing should be "the sooner the better" once absolute guilt is established.
The End.

Magic

Yup, there's something magic about a new baby. These pictures are worth a thousand words. Look how eloquent!

Megan Makes Her Move

She's beautiful (we can tell by looking at her). She's smart (we can tell by the way she has her brothers already in total subjection). She's clever (we can tell because she came after 3 older brothers were in place to spoil her). She's wonderful (we can tell by the way her grandmas grin when she looks at them). She's a Paulsen (we can tell by her gorgeous dark hair and expressive eyebrows). And she's loved.

Special is the Right Word

I spent some time this week at the state Special Olympics. Our Taylor was competing in several events, which is reason enough to rejoice. But I had some sideline experiences that I hadn't anticipated.
Taylor is pretty mobile, and has a happy, normal life. Her passions can be pretty focused sometimes, and that stubbornness not always accommodating; but she is generally a delight. And when she wins a race or tosses the tennis ball further than the rest of her peers, her joy is breathtaking. It was important to be there with her for her own triumphs. But the surprise was to experience the spiritual high that this group of athletes brought to that stadium. Their combined attitude was palatable, inspiring, and incredibly touching. The trick is finding the word for it. Grit, maybe. Pure, determined, unadorned will-power. No strings attached, except maybe the ones that connect them to heaven. It rained all over Provo, Fri. But not on that stadium. It was close enough to smell. But that place stayed dry.
Dozens of volunteers assist in this event. And I can see why. It's heady stuff to be among these remarkable people. It's simply a blessing to be their friend. And I am one lucky girl to have one call me Grandma.

Cinderella 2010

In the story, the Fairy Godmother arrived in a timely fashion to magic up transportation, a classic ensemble, complete with shoes that will hurt the feet in no time, and a time limit. But, for some reason, we think Cinderella is a lucky thing and deserves her prince because of all the drudgery she's performed slaving at home. Well, my story differs in significant ways. I gave up drudgery years ago, but what I do still qualifies me for a magical night. And my Prince arrived in a timely fashion to provide me a stunning ensemble (but I wore comfortable shoes), transportation and a time limit ('cause High Council meets early Sun. morning). So we went to the Art Ball, and I saw droves of princesses who seemed full of confidence and poise (even in their ridiculous shoes), and quite a few princes (though many escorts were only prince apprentices), and several Fairy Godmothers (most of them wielding cameras to record their particular princess in her ball finery). And the clock went ticking by...while we watched the princesses dance, admired the remarkable art (the ball is held at the Art Museum, after all, and is in celebration of the Spring Salon), and relished the gourmet buffet. We left well before midnight, but felt quite satisfied. And best of all, I took my prince home with me. And I got to keep the dress, too.

We know how to Party

Alan and Shannon invited us and Alan's parents to join them in a trip to Arches National Park to celebrate his birthday. Neither Steve nor I had been there, before. What a spectacular place! I came home with nearly 200 photos; and that doesn't count the 60+ that Steve took on the other camera. I felt as though we'd hopped onto another planet. I can hardly wait to start painting this unique landscape. But the true fun was being with family. We had a grand time. The weather was perfect. The hiking was so worth it. The joyful memories far outweigh the noisy nighttime neighbors in the adjacent campsites. But next time (and I'm sure there will be a next time), I'm staying in a motel.

Rainbows Require Rain

I've spent some time at Jacob and Ami's house. I ought to have been perfectly qualified to keep Simon safe, fed and happy. I should have been capable of maintaining an easy level of function when no major household tasks were required. Though old and feeble compared to my mothering days, and recovering from eye surgeries, I did not anticipate the challenge, accurately.
1. Simon is two. He has begun to react to input and discovered there are choices. He has preferences and expectations. And a temper.ie "No change diapy!"
2. When I get tired enough, my standards for entertainment crash. ie "Ok, Simon, you can watch the Baby Einstein video again, even though you've seen it 6 times today."
3. I'd forgotten that just because I do a,b and c, it does NOT follow that the child will respond as programmed. ie Cut up the sandwich into cute bites and tell silly song/stories to seduce the boy into eating...and he spits it out, screaming. However,
4. It's a joy and a privilege I wouldn't trade for all the diamonds in Africa. ie "I lub you Gandma."

Sight

All my life, ALL MY LIFE, I have been just a bit short of blind. I've had glasses, thank goodness, and wore contact lens for many years, rejoicing in every new prescription that made things better once again, for awhile. I've sat in the front row of every school class, church meeting,theatrical performance or concert (paying more for such seats) whenever I could. And to learn how to see beyond my physical ability, I became a painter, viewing the world with my heart, more than my eyes. I've been grateful to see at all. Then, a few years ago, I began a frightening journey that could have led to complete blindness. The retina detached from my right eye, leaving a tear and a field of blankness. It was repaired through the miracles of modern technology and the healing help of faith and divine power. But the journey wasn't over, yet. Cataracts have been developing, again threatening my vision. The surgery for that poses certain risks for anyone, but are higher for people like me, with retinal weakness and out-to-lunch myopia. But I felt peaceful as I prayed for comfort and have gone ahead with the operation. The first one is behind me. The second only a couple of days away. Even with just one eye done so far, I have been thrilled beyond description. How does one find words! I guess these three will have to do: I CAN SEE! I can SEE! I CAN see! I. Can. See!

"Koitillion"

Sometimes, I need to stretch a little. Like a butterfly coming out of a cocoon, I want to discover myself again. Maybe because it's spring...anyhow, I've had a grand time painting this piece. I like the movement, the variety and the play of cool and warm colors. It's not like my usual art, at all, but I've felt some terrific satisfaction at pulling off something so out of my ordinary. It's even bigger than usual: 24" X 24" and in-your-face bold rather than the subtle, peaceful stuff I usually produce. It might not be good enough to get into the Spring Salon, but I'm going to try it. Either way, I'm dancing with the fish.

In the Cave

Been painting the inside of the lion's cave in my dentist's boy's room. It's a fun project, though mural painting is not my favorite. It's a good "trade" for services ploy that my dentist is willing to do. That makes it all the more fun.:) So, here is the outside of the cave from previous project, the inside that shows snake, bugs and cubs (though the bugs are hard to see in this photo). The best part is the delight of the little boy as he comes in to check on my progress. Today he crowed over the bats and lion cubs, and ran to show me his stuffed lion. I like to make children happy. Don't tell, but the Princess Train for Alyssa's birthday turned out really cute, too. Shannon and I painted a wooden craft train I found at Michael's with pink, blue and purple and then attached Disney stickers. Quite a stretch from the bugs and bats...

Historic Hike

We spent 3 days in St. George with Steve's annual Principal's Conference. The weather was ideal for the 1st day hike that we enjoyed: a mile or so of trail across the bluff leading to the quarry where the volcanic stone was used to make the foundation for the St. George Temple. Huge blocks were blasted away from the mountain, hauled by wagon to the site and pounded into the soggy ground using a cannon salvaged from the Napoleon Wars as the pounder. I am always amazed at the diligence and ingenuity of our pioneer fathers. They were remarkable. It's wonderful what inspiration and determination can accomplish. We (I) need to use a little more of that to get my own job done...

Tribute

I'm blessed to have the perfect husband. No, he's not the perfect person, the perfect man or even the perfect father. Although he comes very close in all those roles. But there are two things that matter more than almost anything else that my Steve does perfectly. One, he thinks I'm pretty. Now, don't you laugh. He's not blind. He's not stupid. He's just in love. With me. He tells me I look nice. He notices the little efforts and changes I make in my appearance. He shares honest opinions, without being negative. It's a gift. Mine. Two, he loves to please me. Even though he would rather be doing something else, somewhere else, nearly all of the time, he accompanies me to art galleries and sits smiling in a corner while I chat animatedly with other artists. He'll walk about the gallery and talk with me about the paintings and sculptures, with honest enthusiasm. But then he's done. I never am finished as soon as he is. But he will give me as much time as I want to use feeding my artsy soul. And, although he dislikes shopping almost as much as I like it, he'll putter cheerfully through the aisles of clothing, offering opinions and waiting for me to try on my possibilities. He honors my choices of movies, restaurants or date night activities. But he is happy to make the decisions if I prefer that he do. You see? These traits easily trump any minor flaws that he may still exhibit from time to time. Steven is a perfect husband. And I am perfectly happy to say so.

Beauty is not Optional

Sometimes I forget how therapeutic it is to indulge in a little art, music or nature walk. I've had quite a challenging couple of months--but when we hung this lovely new stained glass window, the thrill and spiritual high buried the grumpies without much trouble. The glass artists are a married couple that fell in love with one of my paintings and offered to do a "trade." Now that's a handy way to get original art that one could not otherwise afford. I got to participate in the design and glass choices. It was quite a treat. I wanted something that said "BOOKEND" so it could introduce our house to visitors. Isn't it perfect?

Put your Little foot right here...

I'm thinking about shoes. One of the happiest parts of this New Year has been a couple pair of new shoes. Now I know that I have a peculiar shoe fetish, but you need to realize how exciting it is to find top quality shoes that fit, are amazingly comfortable and are cute--besides being on sale. I've been blessed with 2 pair in the last week that thrill me, um, from top to toe. I've watched my missionary kids get really fine shoes as part of their equipment. I've seen my husband justify expensive shoes because of his professional requirements. But until lately, I've never been able to "qualify" in any particular way, myself. So, this is a big, uh, step for me. I got 2 pair of high quality, attractive shoes and don't feel particularly guilty, either. And that is the most surprising of all.