City Girl Confessions: The Magic in the Mess

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City Girl Confessions is my recurring column in The Glencoe Anchor.

If you want to see my anxiety shoot through the roof, just say the word ‘messy.’ I get a little cringe-y and creeped out when it comes to certain things, and let’s just say that paint, play dough, clay, and slime are the stuff of nightmares for me. Yet, children covet this squishy stuff. They cherish the mess. And there are loads of studies that point to the benefit of this creative play.

It hit me on one of those last, lingering summer days…the kind where minutes pass by like hours and adults are just craving that first day of school. Don’t get me wrong, summer is a glorious, heavenly existence in the Midwest. Ours was filled with camps, trips up north, pool days, popsicles, and explorations of every mini-golf park in a 40-mile radius. But those last days of summer? The ones right before school? Those days are kind of excruciating. The emotions are high, the energy levels higher, and that presents some interesting clashes. Bottom line: new transitions can throw us all for a loop, and everyone in my home was feeling the stress of that. 

So I decided to break my own rules and bring on the mess. Long ago, my sister gifted my child a Jackson Pollock art kit from the Museum of Modern Art. It came with acrylic paint, a canvas, drop cloth, and information on ‘action painting.’ Now if you’re not familiar with Pollock’s work, just imagine wildly tossing, flicking, and splattering paint all over a canvas. Yes, this is the very messiest form of art one can embrace. 

My children absolutely loved it. Pollock once said that putting a canvas on the floor and walking around all four sides to paint allowed him to feel as though he were literally within the painting. I can confirm that my children seemed to have felt the same way based on the colors that sailed through the air and the shrieks of glee that came from my backyard. It was a mess indeed: on their hands, their clothes, their bodies, the pavement, the grass, the canvas, the drop cloth…paint really does travel when the artist is at work.

Witnessing this mess was oddly joyful for me. Let’s face it- life will always be messy. It will always necessitate a clean up- literal and figurative. Making peace with this notion allowed me to put down the stress baggage that I so willingly carry. 

When the paint dried and my backyard sort-of recovered, I walked into Signature of Art in downtown Glencoe. I placed the canvas on the front desk and said, “I need to frame this. It’s the memories of my summer.”

The gentleman working nodded; he understood exactly what I meant. And I’ll confess: one day, I will see this paint splattered canvas hanging somewhere in my home, and I will think of this particularly messy day. A day with paint-splattered hands and backyard shrieks. I will not remember the details of the clean up. But I will remember the magic of the mess. 

Green Kitchen Nostalgia

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I just came across this photo of Anne Hathaway’s California Country kitchen and it gave me a wave of nostalgia…the kitchen in my previous house was the same sage green color as her cabinets. Green has always been an important color in my life and, surprisingly so, my marriage. My (only!) tattoo is green. My eyes are green. ‘Kelly’ is a very specific type of green. And in regards to my wedding…my invitations were green, my bridesmaids wore green cocktail dresses, and the groomsmen wore green custom Converse sneakers. I even had a green wedding cake! (in retrospect, it was not the most appetizing color for a dessert but I digress).

Why do I love it? It’s growth. It’s organic. It’s nature. Maybe even a little lucky.

So that’s my deal with green. Got any weird stories about your favorite color and why it’s your fave?

Photo by Stephen Kent Johnson

City Girl Confessions: A Moment to Savor

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Photo by Paul Theodor Oja on Pexels.com

City Girl Confessions is my recurring column featured in The Glencoe Anchor.

This morning, I walked out of my house excited to meet up with a friend. Just one problem- a large carpenter’s van was blocking my car in the driveway (I had forgotten that one of our kitchen cabinets needed repairing). Hmm…what to do? Then another thought…I have a bicycle. Why not take a ride to meet up with my friend?

So I threw on my helmet and started pedaling. It was a lovely summer morning: about 72 degrees, cornflower blue sky, a nice breeze. When I hit the brakes at a STOP sign, a monarch butterfly fluttered past and I had to stop myself from chuckling. The picturesque moment felt straight out of a movie. 

But I didn’t chuckle. Instead, I savored. I drew in my breath and felt the wind on my face. I thought of outdoor reading, the smell of sunscreen, and the colors of the sky at dusk. I thought about weekend getaways, drippy ice cream cones, and bare feet racing over the grass. I pondered fireworks, Glencoe Art festivals, French Markets, sidewalk sales, Pride Month, parades, and many al fresco dinners. There’s been an awful lot of fun that has filled up these past Summer months.

For all those reasons, August is my reserved time to savor. I know that the first day of school is just around the corner. I realize that more structured schedules are on the horizon. I accept all of this. It’s for those reasons that I say, go ahead, have ice cream before dinner. Take an extra long bike ride that might stretch past your kids’ bedtime. Invite someone over for a drink or impromptu popsicle party. Turn on a sprinkler. Turn off the iPads. Look for shooting stars. Open your windows. Say yes more than no. Get outside everyday, even for just a short walk. Pet a dog. Look for birds. Talk to your neighbors. 

Riding my bike that morning reminded me of something: the absolute bliss of simplicity. Do you remember riding a bike for the first time? The feelings of independence or the excitement of choosing your destination? It’s euphoric (also decent exercise). Hopping on two wheels brought me back to my childhood, where any neighborhood adventure was possible. Why don’t I do this more often? Why don’t I get back to basics not because my car is unavailable but because it just feels good?

I’ll confess, back in my city-living-days, I rode a bike to escape the endless concrete. I sought the clarity of being out in nature, savoring all of its elements. If density was driving me mad, I could always get on a trail or a path and find my way.

Those memories, and this month, are reminding me to savor what is right now- the calm before the storm. The last of the very best season. That when the world feels stressful and upsetting, we can hit the reset button. And savor the moment. 

City Girl Confessions: Desperately Seeking Spring

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City Girl Confessions is my recurring column published via The Glencoe Anchor.

There’s something really disheartening about checking the weather forecast and seeing single digits…again. I get that we live in the Midwest, but c’mon! The first day of Spring is slated for March 20th. How may I rejoice in the switching off of seasons if I’m still shoveling snow and wearing the same oversized sweater for the 176th time?

I’m bitter (and bitterly cold). March really seemed like the finish line. If we could just soldier through the snow days, the blizzards, the Polar Vortex, the sleet storms, the ‘thundersnow,’ then surely we would come out the other side a bit dazed but ultimately grateful to see a patch of grass here or there.

In this winter haze, I’ve found myself craving odd things. In walking through a Target, I stare longingly at little seedling packets and ceramic flower pots. While it’s true that I loathe gardening, I find myself desperate to do anything involving sunshine, warmth, and quality time outdoors (sans parka). I’ve even taken on extensive decluttering and reorganizing, despite the fact that the Village of Glencoe’s Spring Clean Up event is not until early May.

Mostly, I find myself longing. I glance at the barren trees in my backyard and wonder what the branches will look like when the green leaves fill in. I wince when our garage door opens and my kids spot their bicycles, begging to take a ride down the street. I miss regular neighborhood walks with my dog (the ice-melting salt wreaks havoc on his paws).  

I’m daydreaming of that one perfect Spring morning: the kind where we are inexplicably running early and have time to burn before the school bell rings. So we hop in the car and head east on Park Avenue so that we may sit on hard stone benches that overlook Lake Michigan. We don’t bring coats because the weather doesn’t warrant it. Maybe I sip coffee and prop up my feet. Maybe my kids point out a galloping dog or a tiny wildflower peeking through the dirt. The sun is up and out, the breeze softly whispers. It’s perfection even if it hasn’t happened just yet. 

Confession time: we all have our moments of frustration. Sometimes we just need to yell into the void and move on, owning our deepest feelings of seasonal stress. Once we have that release, it’s almost like the world finally bends in our favor, recognizing that we are open to the newness around the corner. 

So what’s getting me through this freezing cold week? An intricate risotto recipe. Scrabble Junior with my children. Concentrated belly breathing in yoga class. Ongoing commitment to my down coat and pom-pom hat. Documentaries on Netflix. A sense of humor. 

That one perfect Spring morning is on its way and when it actually gets here, I’ll be ready. The bicycles will be set up, the dog leash will be in my hand, the coats will be stashed in the closet, and the Lake will beckon. It will be warm, perfect, and brand new.

Sunset by Andy Warhol

 

 

City Girl Confessions: All The Ways to Warm Up

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City Girl Confessions is my recurring column published via The Glencoe Anchor

I still haven’t fully defrosted from the Polar Vortex. Perhaps I won’t until the first flower of Spring blooms. That would be fine because the way I see it, if we are stuck in the thick of winter, we simply must adapt. We must identify warmth and cling to it. It’s not an impossible feat. I’ve narrowed down some great spots in town that are perfect for raising your temp and soothing your chill. 

Firstly, let it be known that I can find any excuse to get myself to the Glencoe Public Library, but in winter months, I covet this space because of the Johnson room and it’s wondrous fireplace. This, combined with scenic views of the downtown spread, make it one of the ideal places to curl up with a book and settle in for a long stretch of warmth. 

If fireplaces are your thing, I’ve got another option for you. In departing the library, walk across the street and make your way into Meg’s Cafe. Their fireplace is lovely, their service attentive, and their Soup of the Day is not to be missed. 

I often find the the chill of winter hits me hardest first thing in the morning. There is nothing fun about waking in the dark and dragging oneself out of a warm bed. I soothe my chilly bones with a 6am Warm Vinyasa Flow class at Reach Yoga. On Tuesday and Thursday mornings, the studio is heated to a delightful 80 degrees. Even in the midst of a Polar Vortex, I have found my way to Reach to stretch and move on my mat, all the while imagining that I’m on a tropical vacation. Rest assured that in these colder temps, Reach also cranks the heat for its regular classes to keep yogis comfortable.

In 2019, I learned that I have been dressing for winter all wrong. Apparently, it is most beneficial to dress in three layers rather than one bulky sweater. To get my layer fix, I enjoy pursuing the racks at Three Twelve Tudor, which offers plentiful long t-shirts, super soft sweaters, cozy cardigans, and knit scarves. Owner Amy Bishop is kind, resourceful, and always game to help you find exactly what you’re looking for. 

Winter is a great time to really maximize slipper usage. Valentina has offerings for any adult, from a simple pair of thick UGG brand socks to a sherpa-lined moccasin.

Still seeking warmth? Don’t forget about the cozy kid blankets for sale at The Wild Child, ‘The Club’ bagel melt at Hometown Coffee, and the robust candle display at Blacksheep General Store. 

I’ll confess, February is a tough month to endure in the Midwest. We must soldier through tougher temps to come out the other side. But the cold is what makes us resilient. To live in the Midwest is know multitudes of weather and savor the emotions that come with it. 

As you seek ways to keep warm this season, don’t forget to check on your neighbors and friends, particularly those who live alone. The warmth of friendship is wildly comforting and can sustain us when we need it most.