The Art of the Lost Hour
We all grow older, grow up, get stinky, lose track of time. We remember, and then we hold tight suddenly, lamenting. There’s nothing to be done about it at all but this, this one hour outside of time, to celebrate, to mourn, to repurpose into something new that we can hang on a wall to remind us of what was.
Life’s a Journey: This Woman’s Work
[I’ve been away. And honestly, I’ve missed you. And this. And feedback (jazz handsssss.) But I had some art to make and a birthday party for the twins and so … Continue reading
Lederhosen
To begin, you need to know I get the chokey voice. When I first met my husband it was the chokey voice, plus I tapped my nose and I got … Continue reading
Picture Day?! Seriously?
I missed picture day last Monday. I mean, my kids were at school and everything, but Reid was dressed like a polka dot Oompa-Loompa and Mica’s pants didn’t entirely cover … Continue reading
jen groeber: mama art 