"This work is unlike any other, in its range of rich, conjuring imagery and its dexterity, its smart voice. Carroll-Hackett doesn’t spare us—but doesn’t save us—she draws a blueprint of power and class with her unflinching pivot: matter-of-fact and tender." —Jan Beatty

Posts tagged ‘mother’

Daily Prompt Love <3 Do You Hear It?

22 August 2019 

Make art about that lone voice in the wilderness, or about the voice of the wilderness. 

wilderness

Image by David Mark from Pixabay

 

Daily Prompt Love <3 Daughters

3 March 2019 

Today is my daughter’s 32nd birthday. She is beautiful and brave and smart and loving, and I am grateful and humbled to know her. She has been and remains one of my most important teachers. 

Make art about daughters.

Lia me dancing

 

Daily Prompt <3 The Kicked Dog

12 February 2019 

Once when I was a little girl, with my mama, we encountered a particularly grumpy, difficult person. As we moved away from the angry man, under her breath, Mama murmured in her lilting Southern accent, “Mmm, somebody kicked that dog.” 

Being the mouthy kid I was, and an animal lover 🙂 I immediately asked, “Dog? What dog, Mama?” 

She smiled, saying, “Not a real dog, Mary. That man.”

“The mean one?” I asked. 

She nodded, and explained, “When we meet a dog that seems mean, or aggressive, growling at us, we never assume the dog was born vicious, right? We assume that something has happened, that the dog has been mistreated or hurt in some way that made it mean. But we don’t give difficult people the same benefit of the doubt, do we?” She smiled. “Maybe we should.” 

Make art about compassion, about a moment you learned compassion, or recognized that you needed to respond with compassion. 

dog-1149188_640

Daily Prompt Love x 2

13 October 2017

Make art about superstition. 

superstition

14 October 2017

My youngest turns twenty-three today. Happy Birthday, Dean! 

Make art about youngest children. 

Dean 23

Daily Prompt <3 On Mothers and Making Home

7 June 2016

My sweet daughter Lia, a brand new mother to an amazing baby boy Max–I call him Little Star–is beautifully maneuvering her way with Love and tenderness through the new dance of parenting, and marriage as a parent, and her own professional work.

Another sweet young mother I know, one of the daughters of my heart, is in the process of making a new home for her two little ones, having made the courageous decision to leave a marriage that wasn’t working or healthy, for her or her babies.

So I watch them in awe, as my own son used to say, “like we were just us, a crew on our own little pirate ship!”when his brother and sister and he and I were in the same place, me a mom making a home for us 🙂

How these young women astound and inspire me 🙂 how I admire them ❤ 

Make art about mothers, or about the daily rituals that go into making a home. 

loveeverafter-2

Art by Katie m. Berggren

 

 

 

 

Daily Prompt :-) Hands & Heading Off

8 May 2016

Under the weather and missing my mama this Mother’s Day, thinking about her hands–her mother’s hands, her gardening hands, her nurse’s hands. She never had a manicure. I can’t recall her ever having her nails painted at all, but man, it seemed the whole world rose from those hands. And now, I watch my daughter, a first-time mama, her hands so gentle and loving as she cares for my grandson. Yep, the whole world ❤ That’s what it is. 

Make art about a mother’s hand. 

DSCN2562

9 May 2016

So many graduation activities this weekend, last grades going in, so many of these angel babies heading off to next adventure. 

Make art about setting off into the unknown. 

step-off_big

Daily Prompt :-) Oh Those Eyes

Happy National Poetry Month! My daughter and I agree that her beautiful baby boy has my mother’s eyes. Oh those eyes ❤

Eyes:

by William Matthews

the only parts of the body the same   

size at birth as they’ll always be.   

“That’s why all babies are beautiful,”   

Thurber used to say as he grew   

blind—not dark, he’d go on   

to explain, but floating in a pale   

light always, a kind of candlelit   

murk from a sourceless light.   

He needed dark to see: 

for a while he drew on black   

paper with white pastel chalk   

but it grew worse. Light bored   

into his eyes but where did it go?   

Into a sea of phosphenes, 

along the wet fuse of some dead   

nerve, it hid everywhere and couldn’t   

be found. I’ve used up 

three guesses, all of them 

right. It’s like scuba diving, going down   

into the black cone-tip that dives   

farther than I can, though I dive   

closer all the time.

 

Make art about eyes, about what eyes might see, or who we see in a loved one’s eyes.

Max and nenie's eyes

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