This fact made me painfully aware that 2011 was just a blink away from being over and Christmas was on the Polar Express of Vanessa’s not going to materialize all the projects that she has decided to complete by December 25th.

Crazy Christmas Cat Lady

This is nothing new. Just ask my poor husband who has sleepily padded out into the living room at 3 am on December 23rd to see me sitting cross-legged on the floor in the middle of a wrapping paper explosion because perfect, inventive wrapping must envelope my hand-made presents. I look up to hear “Are you insane?” I have only one logical response, “Yes. Yes, I think I am.”

I LOVE holidays! And I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE giving people gifts. Since I make most of my presents or spend many hours tracking down the perfect, (typically unique and handmade), gifts, I tend to get in over my head a little bit. [Ok, a lot bit.]  I also sell a lot of my work this time of year. So instead of making 3 of something, it tends to be about 3 dozen. And I rarely skimp on presentation. Special gift, special wrapping. And then there is the elaborate baking and Christmas card sending and so-on.

So, hop on board the Crazy Train to Vanessa’s ChristmasLand. It’s like the Polar Express meets the Nightmare Before Christmas and I’m your eccentric conductor. First stop: Candle Town.

To get into the Thanksgiving spirit, I break out my apron, pots & pans and Turkey mold. Then I make a mess. A big fat candle mess. [It's SO fun!] Nothing says Thanksgiving like a turkey-shaped candle.

Look at that delicious beeswax!

Step One: Have some relatives that keep bees or raise the little buggers yourself. I have Ma & Papa Tim Johnson to thank for my supplies and pouring skills. It was fun making a logo for their apiary named after Salt Springs State Park, which is right down the road. Step Two: Thieve those bees out of their hard-earned honey comb and separate the honey from the wax. Step Three: Melt down the wax in a double boiler and clean it by pouring it through some cheesecloth. Old pots & pans work great. Plus, it’s a good excuse to replace them with some sexy new Calphalon pans. Step Four: Ready the rubber molds with wicks and wrap the molds with rubber bands. This part tests your patience since you have to thread the wick with a wire through the bottom of each mold. I leave a long piece of wick out of the bottom so I just have to pull the candle and it auto-feeds more wick through.

Freshly poured molds

Step Five: Pour, baby, Pour! Step Six: Wait for them to cool. This is the worst part. I speed up the process by putting them outside if it’s cool or in the freezer. Step Seven: Remove rubber bands from molds and release candles. I gently rock them back and forth and then pull up. If you don’t let them cool long enough, you will leave an indent on the candles with your fingers. Step Eight: Step away from the candle-making. It’s addictive, so call it a day before midnight, folks.

Hand-Poured Beeswax Candles by Salt Springs Bees

Interested in mine? Send an email to saltspringsbees@gmail.com for a price list.

Next stop: Hand-dipped candles. Maybe with some pressed flowers? Ok, since you twisted my arm!

VV

You probably heard this first from a sibling when you wouldn’t leave them alone, tried to take their favorite toy or were launching ‘operation annoy’ for attention. You may have heard this on the playground or in homeroom and took the stinging words with you as you walked away. A parent may have told you this, (in so many words), on a sunny summer day when you needed, (and they needed), for you to make yourself busy outdoors. It carries with it a generally negative connotation, but it’s time to turn that all around.

[Insert back story here] v

I have spent my adulthood bouncing around the country from a small-town college to Philly, Memphis, NYC metro/suburban jungle and now to the wild North Country. The Adirondack Mountains of upstate New York. (Yes, New York has this upper part and it’s beautiful). Since we moved here in January so that Greg, (hubby), could take a job at SUNY ESF’s Ranger School, there has been some adjusting. We got lost. I didn’t know what time it was for a week since cell service is non-existent and my touchscreen smartphone became the dumbest thing I could own. I was quite used to my DD coffee-fueled, working lunch, fiber optic, phone addicted rat race of a life. The noise and busy and super-scheduled drive-through grind was like a warm blanket. It certainly didn’t leave me any room to do hard time in the reflection department.

I totally freaked out.

My New Commute

What do you mean you drive 45 minutes for groceries? Are you saying I can’t eat Chinese food 3 times a week now? So, when are they putting in a cell tower? Please say next week. PLEASE!  I lost my deli, my multiple convenient DD locations, my cell service, my FIOS, my NYC-a-train ride-away. My mind was going a hundred thousand miles an hour with all the things I needed to do and see and schedule into my day. Then I realized that I also lost my 90 minute a day commute, my 40 (ok – closer to 50) hour week, my one-bedroom apartment, my weekend showdown with a week’s worth of housework.

Then I let it all go.

I picked up the book I had spent the last year attempting to read. I finished it. Puppy play time became my ten o’clock appointment. I got to work part time in my socks with a purring kitty on my lap. It was so quiet! Peaceful, in fact. All my focus went to one single thing at a time. I know what that focus feels like. I would employ it at work with headphones, Pandora, and tunnel vision on Adobe Illustrator, (or Photoshop or Flash; your choice of visual). It’s how I feel behind a painting, fingernails embedded with a palette of hues. That’s how you get lost. Now I found myself with a lot more time to do it. With everything. Walks through the woods, a new book, even the dishes. (I felt a little guilty)

I’m not saying that this process happened overnight or that I never get overwhelmed by racing thoughts or busy schedules, but the trade-offs have been worth it. This is where I begin to document the next stage of my journey into the wild forests of the ADK’s with my trusty hiking companion and four-legged friend, my dedication to artistic endeavors, and my commitment to get lost in whatever I do.

I invite you to join me and to get lost, too.

VV