This is the moment... the moment when her soul remembers.   She is connected to everything.  She is the wave, the water, the sun, the sand, and the sky. She is the goddess, the mermaid, the water bearer commanding the sea with one hand and paying reverence with the other.

Show Tonight

Earth Mama is a watercolor painting I am showing tonight at the Crossroads Gallery.  I received an Honorable Mention for her in the show Real People Real Recovery.  It will likely be a really fun night as Crossroads has several other shows opening there.

Hope to see you!

These Tender Moments

With my first daughter I had a goal of nursing her for one year.  I would "allow" her to continue for up to 18 months.  Then I would wean her.  Little did I know as a new mother that these moments would become among the most tender of our lives.  And when we reached 18 months she had no desire what so ever of giving it up.  She continued to nurse for another 9.  Now with my second, I played this trick on myself again.  Feeling the pressures from society about nursing toddlers, I started to pressure myself to stop her at 18 months.  Now I should know better, but that is the way it goes with me.  Despite my hippy mama education, I still worry about society's rules.  It was a profound relief yesterday when my husband noticed the struggle we were having.  I was trying to comfort her in every way but the breast, and she cried out in utter grief.  It went on for a while when he stepped in.  "Why are you weaning her early?"  I had a few reasons.  All of which seemed completely trivial in the face of her sorrow.  She is going to be my baby for about 15 more seconds.  She is my last baby.  Why am I pushing this?  A wave of surrender and gratitude came over me.  I had no idea of the kind of pressure I had put on myself and on her.  I breathed a huge sigh of relief, and had a let down.  The joys of nursing enveloped me again.  We settled down, she relaxed and was calmed.  The meaning of this blog and most of the art I make is to honor all the perfect and imperfect moments we have as mothers.  Ragamama is the nickname I give myself when I need to remember how perfectly imperfect I am.  And that it is all OK.  We all have our Ragamama days.  Tell me about your Ragamama moments. 

Moving in here

Just moving in from my previous location at my website caryyork.com

please pardon the mess