Minneapolis Marjorie

I’m back! No need for an Amber Alert!

Well, my goodness. Has it really been this long since I posted here? Where DOES the time go? I would have blamed it on the November election madness**, but that has aged out. Or the holidays (which were grand), or pneumonia (I’m finally recovering from my New Year’s gift). Evidently retirement takes all my time – or something. We have finished moving into our new apartment (that took a year) and just yesterday I combined all the tools and sorted them into findable containers. My work here is done! Now, as soon as I get the green light from my doctor, I will be back in the swimming pool once again.

Self-imposed lockdown has been quite interesting. I don’t know what I do all day, but it takes me all day to do it. I am taking 3 online art courses and really enjoying them. And I met a couple of like-minded women in our building who like to play cards! Pre-pneumonia I began playing cribbage at the Y with a bunch of folks who are really nice and fun to hang out with, so I am feeling quite settled in my new ZIP code. I’ve even started sewing again, now that I have my sewing station all fixed up and easy to use. Life is good.

I recently watched my hometown burn down which was unsettling and a bit of déjà vu. Having lived with continuous fire danger for the first 41 years of my life, I am not gloating when I say I’m glad I moved. It is heart-breaking to see so many of my favorite places turned to ash and to remember how it felt so many times to wait for the evacuation orders, while packing our favorite photo albums and well-worn shoes. And favorite underwear…the list is endless and hard to edit at a time like that. I don’t know how so many people will be able to rebuild or even afford a temporary home while they wait in line for all the overworked contractors. It’s just so sad, and I feel for all the regular folks (NOT Hollywood stars, who got all the attention) who will now have to figure out how to navigate life.

I recall that when I started this blog, my intention was to write my life story in installments. Here is the next installment:

On Boys and Men (Love)

As my parents prophesied, “She loved horses until she discovered boys.” Oh, well. I’ll give them that one. I had been adoring red headed boys for a few years, and my first ginger boyfriend was adorable, kind, mannerly, and had great handwriting. Some things are just more important to certain people. My parents were crazy about him and they would chauffer us around in the back of Mom’s Buick Riviera between our homes. He was the one that flipped that switch for me. To this day, I look for him on social media, but he had a very common name. He had to move away because his family was moving somewhere else. We did not keep in touch – I think it was just too sad and impossible for us, 15-16 years old with no say on where we would live.

When I was 16, I was courted by a guy that I DID NOT LIKE, and I kept avoiding him. I had met him at Bob’s Big Boy (like we did) when hoping to meet up with a different guy. This boy (JSA) was relentless – he was a couple years older, so had finished high school and had plenty of time to hang out with my mom and charm her while they waited for me to come home from class. He was a true narcissist, before I knew the term. Mom encouraged me to go out with him so after 3 years of fun and games and driving fast cars and all that, he tricked me into marrying him. Las Vegas and alcohol were involved and I’ll just leave that there. We lived in Hollywood, went to countless concerts, “experimented” with drugs (were we really experimenting? I’d call it research, in that case), and partied. I refer to this period in my life as my Party Marriage. The last place we lived was in Big Tujunga Canyon in LA County in a pristene wilderness neighborhood in the Angeles National forest, 14 miles from town. We did have fun, but one day I woke up to go to work, stepped over all the sleeping and unemployed garage musicians from the night before and asked myself, “What the f*ck am I doing here?” I proceeded to load everything I could into my MG and drove out of the canyon for good.

After this learning experience, I met a friend of a friend – and I was hooked. Stephan swanned into my life after we had just broken up with our previous partners and we were both determined to remain unattached. He was cute, artistic, kind, calm, and loved me unconditionally. I had moved into a really nice duplex in Glendale and he moved to Santa Monica, as he had always wanted to live at the beach. Within two months he had moved in with me – sorry, Santa Monica. In a very short time we had bought the house we were renting (across the street from my duplex) for the monumental sum of $33,000 and our fortunes were set. We thought. He was a freelance model maker (remember Smurfs?) and made good money. I had just began a sojourn in the garment business and we lived right near downtown LA which was convenient for both of us. I wanted “what he had,” so began practicing Transcendental Meditation and gave up meat and coffee. By 1978 we had gotten all our ducks in a row and moved to the golden destination of Santa Barbara. We lived in a hippie crashpad a few blocks from the beach and rode our bikes twice a day to catch waves and learn about our new town. We had no real commitments with unemployment insurance for me and income for him. It was the most wonderful and memorable 9 months of my entire life. Soon I had the nesting itch, and we found our dream house located on a hill overlooking the city with beautiful views of sunset against the foothills.

I had always wanted to have children – 4, please – and he agreed to that concept. Once we moved into our house (with 2 art studios, 3 bedrooms, and hand built in 1923 with a basement, unheard of in California) and figured out if we could live on our paltry income, we were set. I started a custom pattern-making and clothing business and Stephan continued to make models, driving the 100 miles to LA a couple times a month to pick up sketches and drop off samples. Our first child, Lillian, was born in 1980 – a bit of a surprise, coming 5 weeks early, but not too surprising, all things considered. Her brother, Alex, came along 3 years later, followed in 1987 by Joseph. The very sad news was that by this time, my dear husband had been fighting melanoma for 4 years, and eventually lost the battle. I had three kids under 7, 37 employees (I had moved into a huge warehouse by then), and a home to take care of. The first thing I did after the funeral was paint and redecorate the house. Go figure; we all grieve in different ways. We had stuck some paint samples on the house and stared at them for a couple months without coming to a decision, so I picked one and found a painting contractor. I also had a huge garage sale for two weekends and unloaded everything we had collected at estate sales over 15 years. It was my way of pulling off my emotional Band-Aid. I didn’t even realize that I was a tea pot collector until I opened all the boxes and found that I had 26 of them. I kept the plain, brown, English one. With each box that left the premises I felt 10 lbs. lighter. I had the floors redone and redecorated the entire house with new, light-colored furniture and a white couch.

Three years after Stephan’s death, I remarried, to JP. He was the embodiment of the Marlboro Man – studly, handsome, charming, and the kindest and most generous man I had ever known. What I didn’t know was that he was bi-polar; this didn’t rear its ugly head for 2 ½ years. By this time, we had moved to Minneapolis, and I was completely blind-sided by this discovery. He had created a persona just for me and then one day he just couldn’t continue the charade. I also inherited a very disturbed step-daughter who lived with us from time to time between Family Court battles. Our marriage lasted 10 years until I couldn’t take the crazy anymore. We became very close again after the dust settled and we were no longer living together. I had also added an additional family member to our tribe after becoming widowed – our nanny, Tina, who continues to be a very important person in my life.

I decided to take some time off from relationships and just focus on my kids and ME. I had a few dalliances, one long-distance one that made me very happy and very crazy at the same time, and then after 7 years I met my current husband, Jeff, online. We have much in common, former hippies/organic gardners with similar musical tastes, and had both been card-carrying vegetarians in our past. I invited him to have a meeting with me and to present lists to each other showing what we wanted and didn’t want in a marriage. We courted for one year until we felt that we were well-grounded and tied the knot. This was Jeff’s first marriage, so we had a beautiful, yet small, wedding. We stayed in Minneapolis, buying a house in NE with a huge yard and lots of room for our various interests, and stayed there for almost 20 years, when we moved to Little Canada, our current location. He has been learning how to live in an inherited family and adjusting quite well. 20 years of marriage is a big deal, and we will happily celebrate our anniversary this month. Time sure flies…

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** the blog I almost posted in November:

It’s November, and all the news is true.

Who. Would. Have. Thunk. I have been struck somewhat dumb by the developments in the political arena. This is all I will say about that, because this blog is a non-politics zone. Let us pray.

I have been quietly absent for a while. I was getting used to my new lifestyle in the apartment (all good) and filling my days with swimming and making art. When it finally began to feel like fall, I got inspired to create. There is probably a corollary between this and the fact that I was finally feeling happy and comfortable in my new, wee studio. I can barely remember what it was like to have so much room (read: horizontal space for crap to accumulate), and I discovered when I moved that I had made the various shelves too deep, and many treasures had not seen the light of day for a long, long time.

Swimming became a focus of my daily pursuits last summer, with a pool right outside my studio window – so handy when I wanted to make sure there were no knuckleheads out there playing “Marco Polo.” It soon became my meditation and with the addition of goggles and a snorkel, I can dive to my favorite depth while breathing under water. I highly recommend it. I attempted to jump start my weight lifting interest, but I am (umpty ump) years older and I found that my body needs much more time to recover after each session. I still love to lift but must listen to my creaking and clunking body and respect it. Once our pool closed for the season, I found three gyms I can attend for daily swims, all within 15 minutes of home. It is just grand, and has certainly saved me from the grief of changing my life so radically.

I’m back! No need for an Amber Alert! Read More »

Road trips and summer memories

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WELL, THAT ESCALATED QUICKLY

The summer that we long awaited is now over. Every year, it feels like time for a memorial service as the days get shorter, the pools close, and there is a nip creeping into the air. And yet, for balance, it always seems like the start of a new year; probably because of all the time we spent in school and our lives changed every year at this time. My husband and I have just completed our first summer as apartment dwellers, and it was great. I honestly have no idea what I did all summer to make the days fly by, but they sure did. I kept my calendar open for possibilities and unscheduled day trips (my favorite) and ate out more than I have in the last 3 years. A dear friend and I developed a habit of Sunday morning brunches, and we drove aimlessly each week, happy as Larry, until we found a small café. Of course, neither of us thought to take pictures, so you will have to take my word for it. I think that the fact that we did NOT reach for our cameras speaks volumes about our enduring friendship. We were happiest while watching the asphalt fall away in the rear-view mirror, while we mused and had rambled through stream of consciousness-based conversations. I have always believed that the most meaningful conversations take place while driving – no eye contact, just random thoughts and observations. Thinking out loud as the miles roll by. We covered most of eastern Minnesota, some of western Wisconsin, and north and south of St. Paul. In all that time, we only had one mediocre meal, and that was contrasted by the entertaining ambience of a place called “The Little Mermaid Café,” nowhere near any water, in the tiny town of Askov, Minnesota. It even had a museum, as do most of the tiny towns we visited, though we always went on days that find museums closed. It was a great summer of memory making, quiet introspection, and a freedom from having to be anywhere in particular.

Where to today? East or west

I think we went south last week

I don’t want to hit holiday traffic

Oh, look – there’s a new exit!

Have you heard the news about…

Oh, look – another darn lake!

I wonder which one this is?

That guy behind me is so aggressive

I think I’ll pull over and let him roll on

Hungry yet? Shall we start looking?

Oh, there’s a cute one!

I feel like we just drove back in time

And they’re open on Sunday!

Oh, I’m stuffed

But that pie was so delicious

And that third cup of coffee may have been a bad idea

It will feel good to be home.

See you next Sunday –

Have a great week

With no yard work or real housework beckoning I enjoyed the most liberated summer in my adult life. Got up early, enjoyed a cup or two of coffee, some toast, and played word games on my phone while the world around me seemed to be still sleeping. I have fallen in love with the view of the lake outside the bedroom window, which is different every single time I look at it. One day recently, I woke up earlier than usual and spotted a deer drinking from the lake right near my window. I spent a lot of the time unpacking and rearranging our household and studio possessions, and now I can actually say that I know where things are. Except for a couple things, but they will turn up. I managed to make a few paintings, and the muscle memory is coming back. I have no deadlines, no pressure, no upcoming shows, and plenty of art supplies. The biggest thrill of my summer was having a pool – I swam at least once a day from Memorial Day to Labor Day and I will truly miss it. Luckily there is a very nice, kind of old-fashioned Y right nearby, so I won’t have to go through swimming withdrawal. In fact, I’m more than ready to get back to the gym and start lifting heavy things again. Each time I take a hiatus from lifting I fear that I will have to start over, but I am always pleasantly surprised to see that my strength remains in full force, if not my stamina. But I’m 74, so who cares, right? Showing up is all that matters to me and my mental health.

The days were often too beastly for any serious bike riding, but I made a few forays into the towns nearby. One day I even happened upon a lemonade stand – and downed a cup while visiting with the lovely young purveyors of America’s oldest beverage and a summer staple.

Now I ponder what comes next. I have even thought about working part time as a virtual admin assistant to keep the left half of my brain viable. I miss those spread sheets…and a reason for making them. In the meantime, I have some really great friends who are also retired, and I am looking forward to catching up with them. My mother never got the chance to enjoy this kind of freedom, so in a way, I’m doing it for her. She and I could have had so much fun playing Scrabble and gin rummy…if only. I have spent countless hours with my grandchildren, which only gets better and better the older they get. I am so blessed to be able to while away my golden years doing just about anything that strikes my fancy. We tried to take a vacation this year, but it didn’t really work out. We were recovering from that dreaded disease that we finally caught, and just didn’t have the energy to hike or go sightseeing. After two nights I realized that we had just driven 5 hours to sit in uncomfortable chairs looking out at a lake – which we both agreed that we could do at home, but in comfortable chairs. So we came home, and were glad that we did. There’s no place like home.

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BOOM!

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When I set out to write a blog, my intention was to write my life story. Well, as they say:

In the intervening months, I have been noting some events and partial history, so in the interest of accuracy, I have embarked upon My Illustrated History. There will be some overlap, no doubt, but I am enjoying this new sketch book project. Here is Chapter One, Boom!

Two weeks ago, our family experienced a milestone loss – the passing of my big brother, Neil. He was a true character, in every sense of the word, and we both were amazed that he lived to the ripe age of 76 after living a life of carefree abandon with no boundaries. His last few years were filled with love from his daughter and her family, and he spent every day with his wee granddaughter, who misses him very much.

In other news, summer is finally here and we are completely enjoying our new digs. I have been in the pool twice a day and it is the answer to a dream I’ve had since I was little – my very own pool! Of course, it is a magnet for the Littles and I couldn’t be happier. I look forward to a summer with no deadlines, no major plans, and few responsibilities. I have been driven by other peoples’ schedules and wake-up times, so this is a big departure for me. This is the version of retirement that I had been hoping for.

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I’m Still Here!

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For those of you who have been following along, I have recently completed the move from my home, my studio, and my gallery. I am now living in a lovely apartment with a lake view and no longer have a studio in the Northrup King Building here in the NE Minneapolis Arts District. I am located in a cute town, Little Canada, just a bit north of St. Paul, Minnesota.

Downsizing is not for the faint of heart, I’ll tell you what. The last time my husband and I moved was in 2005, so you can imagine how much stuff we have accumulated. I had come to the realization that neither of us is getting any younger; all those unfinished projects were not going to finish themselves, and I certainly was not in any condition to be climbing up on the hillside to fix things or rearrange the landscape. During this process, I was amazed, thrilled, and astounded by the angels who swooped in, unbidden, to lend a hand, make suggestions, and take stuff away. I also spread joy through the donation of bags and boxes of art supplies and furniture and was quite surprised to drive by one of my former yard sculptures that ended up in the yard of another denizen of our neighborhood.

As proud members of the Baby Boom Generation (hold your comments…) we have witnessed the decline of many of our friends and family and decided to get ahead of that. Our dream was to live in a place where we could actually take time away from daily to-do lists and costly home maintenance and just enjoy ourselves. We have the entire Upper Midwest region to explore and we love a good road trip.

Quitting the “business” of art has given me a new perspective – I realize now just how competitive I have always been. This applies to so many facets of my life, from playing cards to working. I know I will continue to have fabulous ideas for product names, but I will resist the urge to build a start-up from them. Follow along to see if I am able to stick to this…

I am also enjoying the experience of art for art’s sake. No deadlines, no pressure, no studio crawls to prepare for, and no judgment, real or imagined. I am nibbling away at the #100 days of Art project between unpacking boxes, and I have really enjoyed just working in a sketchbook creating collages from found papers. Yesterday I congratulated myself on scanning in all the paintings I have ever done, and now I can print them out to be used as collage fodder!

I look forward to continuing my Art Salons, which I call “Art Salad.” For those of you who live in the area, please fill in the following questionnaire if you would be interested in attending.

We were lucky to have dodged the usual crazy snowfall here, which really helped with the logistics of moving and look forward to spring and summer – and enjoying the pool! My next mission is Guerilla Gardening – planting flower seeds in view of our balcony/deck. I just have to hide them from the geese, ducks and songbirds.

I’ll see you next month!

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We’re in!

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Well, it looks like I missed my chance to wish everyone a Happy New Year, but I’ve been busy. To recap, my husband and I have moved everything we know and love 8 miles across town. It may as well have been 2508 miles, as it was just as much work. Or more. We are still awaiting the second moving truck for the final stack o’ boxes and my electric tricycle. We learned about what we didn’t need in our lives (so many boxes donated, sold and otherwise dispersed) and what we will actually use. We are also going completely wireless, which is a big leap for us OG folks. Tomorrow we will welcome the second visit of the traveling technician to hook everything up. I spent at least 4 full days and myriad brain cells trying to hook up the internet modem to the TV, and, after buying a brand-new TV I learned that the “box” that was provided by Xfinity (a four-letter word) was defective. We are now on TV #3, and eliminated the dang box, and are quite happy. I tried, I really did. On the way to the X (formerly Comcast) store, I meditated while I drove: “I will be patient; I will be kind; I will wait my turn.” Once it was my turn, I was told by the staff person that I should go home, unplug it, and plug it in again. Huh. So much for customer “service.” I guess I was confused with a Karen/Jessica/whatever they call us.

But now I am sitting here at my humming computer, listening to soft jazz on my fabulous Klipsch Bluetooth speaker, and gazing out the window at the woods. I am happily ensconced in my new, wee studio with so much stuff, yet surprisingly comfy. This morning, just for fun, I took my laptop over to the business center (right next to the fitness center) just for a change of scenery and a chance to use more of my keys.

I truly love it here. Who knew? After all those years of homeownership, it is so refreshing to not worry about something falling apart. I have better water pressure and more hot water than I have had in any of the places I have owned (7 locations). It is quiet and cozy, with a heated garage (my little KIA is so pleased) and situated right in between the homes of two of our children (the third one is 2508 miles away, but is visiting in a couple weeks). When the sun comes out for good next summer, I will be able to meander out our door and slide into the swimming pool. Yesterday I watched a flock of ducks circling above the lake as if they were on a race track. We have shamelessly eaten out way too often, but it is tempting when the array of restaurants is only a block away. I have certainly not been bored, and I cherish the spontaneous lunches/dinners/baby-sitting gigs with the kids. I continue to shop at the food co-op in our old neighborhood, and visit my former neighbors for lunch or tea while I am there. I do not miss the house. At all. We were there for almost 20 years and there was an unending list of things that needed to be attended to. I think some of the lists are still there.

Now I will be cleaning off my table top and making some art. I can’t wait! I did a couple collages last week, just to see if I still could, and it was rejuvenating! I had only three colors of paint and one pad of paper, but it was good practice to see what I could do with limited supplies.

See you next month!

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Moving: adjective

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Transferring belongings from one residence to another
Stirring deeply in a way that evokes a strong emotional response

Nineteen years next February, my husband and I got married and bought this house. It was a new beginning for both of us – we were opposed to moving into one another’s digs and realized that a fresh start was in order. We were blessed to find the Perfect House – room for both of us to have our own workspaces and a delightful home in a very wonderful neighborhood. From time to time I would visualize moving again – and quickly clamped down that possibility. Then, the inevitable happened – we woke up much older than we had been and started experiencing some limitations that come with having so much to care for and so, so many stairs. I modified my body with new knees and various orthopedic interventions, but it was clear that we needed a change.

After owning several homes, it never occurred to me to consider living in an apartment or condominium, until I did some research. It seems that the American Dream that we had attained had some hidden down sides – basically, I had begun to feel that this house owned us. We had to finance so many repairs and forgo vacations in favor of staying behind to nurture our garden that we had lost every shred of freedom that we had attained. I began to look at apartments and was pleasantly surprised to learn that there are quite a few out there that I could imagine living in. We settled on a 3 bedroom, 2 bath place with two balconies, on the ground floor and with its own exterior door. I mention these two amenities as I dreaded living in a high rise or feeling like I was living in a hotel. As a retired hippie, I need to feel in touch with the earth under my feet, and our unit overlooks a lake, with no direct view of any streets or driveways. I think it will be just the thing for us. We were pleased with the young men who manage the property, and the deal was clinched when I learned that we could keep our bird feeders. We will be living pretty much halfway between our son and daughter and their families, and not at all far from where we are now. The town is Little Canada, which I have always like the sound of. Very Minnesotan.

The packing has been brutal, which was no surprise. So many things to look through, so many art supplies that I have not used since I got them. I started by making a floor plan on graph paper for the bedroom that will be my new studio, so that I could plan on how much I could keep. It’s not bad, actually, and I have been creative in much smaller spaces. We have our own separate thermostats, another plus, as I am always warm and he is always cold. We will be moving in two stages – the first will be all our “living” stuff (beds, clothes, chocolate, coffee, basic creature comforts) and the second will be all the rest, once we decide what we are keeping. I have been an active contributor to Marketplace and the Buy Nothing Group, which had the added benefit of meeting some pretty cool folks and like-minded individuals. Once we get that first move done, the other stage should go pretty quickly. (fingers crossed!) Oh, and did I mention I will have a pool and gym right there? I was happy to find a community that isn’t over filled with amenities that we will never use, and includes a community room where I can continue to hold my Friday Night Salons once the dust settles.

I want you to know just how grateful I am for you. Thank you for letting me be a part of your lives. It’s the privilege of a lifetime, and one that I feel grateful for each and every day. I could not have attempted this without the love and support of my dear friends and family members.

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Newsletter / mschalles

Moving is a word that can strike fear in the hearts of the most robust and upbeat people. Each year in a place adds another layer to the collage of life. Therefore, I have about 20 layers to go through, peel back, contemplate, and decide what gets to stay. It’s a hard job, but I have to do it. It started a few years ago as Swedish Death Cleaning, and now it is serious. We will be moving from our rather rangy home into a 3- bedroom apartment as soon as we can get the job done.

A few months ago, eager to beat the snow, I started on a campaign to understand every single housing option for us. I have been a homeowner almost exclusively since 1976. To contemplate renting, it took a certain leap of faith. I did come to the conclusion, however, that I have begun to feel that the house owns us. Renting will offer a few different things – no more “to do” lists every weekend, no more things to fix or replace, and a certain amount of flexibility to move if we don’t like where we end up. Once we get rid of a fair amount of baggage, we should be lean and more able to pick up and try someplace else. Also, I was pleasantly surprised to see that the cost of renting here in the Twin Cities is reasonable and fits nicely within our fixed income. I have focused on 3 bedrooms/2 baths with the intention of using one bedroom as my art studio. I already have the floor plan all figured out on graph paper, which helps me see what I can bring. We will actually have more square footage than we do now.

The first step for me is to downsize the art supplies and pieces of furniture that make up my happy place. I will hold a sale soon to sell or give away all the things that I have not touched in the last 3-4 years, and to generally lighten my load. I will probably focus on making art on paper, rather than on cradled boards with large, matching frames. If you are looking for me, I will be packing.

This is the second stage of my transition from being an exhibiting artist to an artist with time on my hands to follow the muse and see where it takes me. I am looking forward to it in the broadest sense. Rather than 2 gardens full of flowers, I will now have 5-6 pots of my favorites, on the balcony/porch/deck in pretty pots, out there with my favorite deck chair. I will keep all my watercolors, pens, markers, most of my acrylics, and all the paper I have accumulated. It will be a delight to have running water and a bathroom right down the hall, rather than to go “next door” to the house and haul buckets of water.

This is certainly a big step, but it is not the first time. I have reinvented myself/my life at least 4 times so far, and I look forward to it, packing aside. If you are in the neighborhood, please stop by. I am never too busy to take a tea break!

Decisions, decisions…

Newsletter / mschalles

In life we often need to let go of our idea of what the perfect outcome of a perceived problem should be. We arrive at the conclusion through experience, intuition, common sense, and sheer dumb luck. Often, we have to release our imagined outcome and realize that, in most cases, the worst that could happen really isn’t that bad. Excerpted from https://www.dailyom.com/

When I closed my studio/gallery last month, I suddenly realized I had time to sew a Halloween costume for my grandson. For 47+ years I considered my occupation to be patternmaker/seamstress/designer/captain of industry. Imagine my delight when I got out my little domestic machine, a folding stand, my little folding ironing board, my good shears and got to work. What a treat! Granted, I couldn’t really sew very fast on this machine, but it works great. And, it goes just as fast as I do, rather than running away with itself on those long straightaways. It was so gratifying.

As I sewed, I reflected on the skills I have learned after all these years converting two-dimensional paper and cloth into three-dimensional wearable art. I still remember all the magic short cuts, and can put a pattern together without looking at any instructions. In fact, sewing for me is the perfect combination of left and right brain activity. While painting, I rarely use my left brain once I’ve measured my paper or substrate. I felt much more balanced than I have in quite a long time. It is the closest I can come to instant gratification.

I am also enjoying the lack of deadlines and the need to please others. I sew for a while, or paint, or dink around in the art room, and when I decide to take a break no one is judging me. (They never were in the first place, but tell that to my brain.)

My other BIG NEWS is that my husband and I have decided to sell our house and move to an apartment! I am so excited – the yoke of home ownership only gets more stifling as we get older. I look forward to doing less and accomplishing the same. Day trips? Dinners out? Why not! We talk about it plenty, but there is always “something” that has to be done. We have our eye on a nice 3 bedroom, 2 bath unit with a view of a lake and trees all around, close to where we are now. There is SO much to learn about housing as a retiree – yikes! Luckily, I have a built-in spreadsheet feature, so I have it all where I can find it. Basically, we will pay about the same each month if we buy a condo or rent an apartment, and I figure once we have gotten rid of all the things, we will be more flexible about moving a second time if necessary. You never know, right? This is us being prepared.

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What happens when you let go and see what happens

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This week I made a very important and momentous decision. I will be moving out of my gallery space at Northrup King in the next few weeks. With the upcoming open studios event, I realized that there is just too much going on in my life right now to use any of my brain power for things that do not make me happy. I will sell anything that people want, but donate most of the remainder, keeping pieces that my family wish to have.

This decision comes on the heels of another, even more significant conclusion, and that is that my husband and I have to prepare for the inevitable time when we can no longer live in our home. He is not ready to face this, but at least he can think about it while I do the research it will take to visit various senior living communities, compare locations, floor plans, costs, and eventually get on a couple waiting lists. I have always had a more immediate nature (“Hey, kids! We’re moving to Minnesota – now!” for instance) or, “What the heck am I doing here? Time to go!” He prefers to ponder things for much longer, which I totally respect. I dive into a lake and he takes his time until he is in the water. I will channel my enthusiasm into gaining information, meeting residents, and making a spread sheet, like I do. We must embrace the spread sheets.

I will still make art. The pressure of showing it, attending events, hoping for sales, and making sure I have enough to fill the bins, is just more than I need right now. I picture my brain as a room full of compartments – and they are limited. When I wake up in the middle of the night sweating with all these things running through my brain, I know it’s a sign. Each time I have been honored with a commission, it has not been driven by my presence in a gallery. I will give myself permission to see where my artistic intuition leads me. Sketch books? Watercolors on paper? Urban sketching? Who knows? It will be a relief to find out. In addition, I will go through my studio and get rid of anything I haven’t touched in 2 years – sell, give away, donate – there are so many possibilities. I’m actually looking forward to clearing the decks.

Thank you all for your love and support. Watch this thread for updates!

“One of the scariest moments in life is when you come to the realization that the only person that can save you is yourself.”

– Demi Lovato

What happens when you let go and see what happens Read More »

Man plans…

2 Comments / Newsletter / mschalles

…and God laughs.” I’m sure you have heard this aphorism before, but it keeps arriving in the forefront of my mind. Once again, I have come to the conclusion that I am over-booked, over-thinking, and over-tired. When the weekend arrives, I feel like I have spent half my week driving to and fro, making myself too tired to do anything productive. Perhaps it is a stalling tactic? Who knows? All I know is that I have to clear the decks and make room in my life for the things that are truly important. Today I made the decision to cancel a class I have been attending. It was lurking over me like the Undertoad (from the World According to Garp: An underlying threat of disaster beneath the surface of everyday life. A mythical monster that lurks underwater to catch unwary swimmers; a personification of an undertow.) As soon as I sent the email, my head stopped hurting, my depression lifted, and I was suffused with new energy. Ta da! I must return to my previous life hack (gad, I hate that term, but if the shoe fits…) of planning all my errands on one day of the week and leave the rest open for spontaneity, which is truly the spice of life. I have gotten into a great routine of swimming every other day, and now I can get back into it, after being just too tired to even get into the car.

While I was pondering my blues, I started thinking about that pandemic we lived through. Well, guess what? I keep hearing from people who “finally got COVID.” We have gotten pretty lackadaisical in our errand-running, I fear. I think it may be time to consider wearing masks again – at least while shopping. I would hate to catch that dreaded disease after holding it off all this time. (Your mileage may vary – I know there is more than one camp for this subject).

Hallowe’en is almost upon us. I see leaves on the ground, and there is a nip in the air. Today I actually wore a hoody when I left the house! Time keeps flying by… If you like to dress up for the big day, have a blast. I will leave the light on for the little kiddies (and turn it off when the elder teens start coming to the door. Unless I recognize them and they ask nicely for some treats!)

Man plans… Read More »