Cindy on October 31st, 2009
Children are a great comfort in old age, and they help you reach it much faster, too.” — Lionel M. Kaufman
Take it from a seasoned parent. There comes a time in every mother’s life when she realizes parts of her wardrobe shouldn’t be flaunted in front of teenage boys. And I’m not talking about thong underwear.
This hit me several years ago while the family and I were getting ready to visit my favorite art fair in Royal Oak — an annual summer event that typically draws crowds of creative types, including some neighbors we haven’t seen all winter. I wanted to dress for the occasion. Scouring my closet, I chose a nice black T-shirt and an ankle-length peasant skirt. It was a departure from my traditional blazer-with-jeans uniform, but still within the bounds of good taste.
Or so I thought. The silver bracelet is what got me in trouble. Rescued from a flea-market, the vintage cuff was two inches wide and etched with a subtle ethnic design. Not all that remarkable — unless, of course, you were looking at it through the discerning eyes of an adolescent boy.
“You’re not wearing that giant bracelet in public, are you?” asked Nate, glaring at my wrist.
“Why not?” I shot back.
“You look like a Babylonian… Or maybe a barbarian,” the kid said, choosing his words carefully. A week earlier he announced that my feet looked “Cro-Magnon” in sandals. Apparently I’d morphed into a badly dressed savage.
What could I do? When the same kid was a cranky infant, I couldn’t treat his diaper rash without consulting a stack of childcare guides. Soon enough, though, Doug and I were navigating the choppy waters of parenthood without much advice from Penelope Leach or T. Berry Brazelton, the most respected parenting experts of our era. Living by our wits, we maneuvered through mealtime face-offs and nerve-racking episodes with the neighborhood bully. We even managed to steer a fairly civilized carpool. But things changed when our little boy began slouching toward adolescence. We needed more help from the experts.
Just in time, Doug found a copy of Anthony Wolf’s aptly titled guide, Get Out of My Life, but First Could You Drive Me and Cheryl to the Mall? (Noonday Press). As the author notes, today’s youth “are vastly different” from kids forty years ago. Just for starters, their social and academic pressures are more complicated, more intense.
“Teenagers treat adults in their lives in a manner that is less automatically obedient, much more fearless, and definitely more outspoken than that of previous generations,” writes Wolf, who happens to be a parent as well as a clinical psychologist. Many adolescents, he says, feel trapped between the growing need for independence and the secret wish to cling to childhood — an agonizing conflict if ever there was one.
“The two main forces of adolescence are the onset of sexuality and the mandate that demands that teenagers turn away from childhood and parents,” Wolf writes. Not only do teenagers see their parents as grossly flawed, he adds, “they also find them outright embarrassing, especially if seen with them anywhere outside the home.”
This explains why your teenager will hug you in the kitchen when nobody is looking but never, ever, in the school parking lot. Or why he ridicules your impeccable fashion sense and mostly wishes you were invisible.
Let me assure you that this too shall pass. Even the mouthiest teens can grow up to be agreeable, well-adjusted human beings. In the meantime they need our patience, love, and a healthy dose of discipline. But patience can be the hardest part, especially for barbarians. – Cindy La Ferle
A slightly different version of this essay is reprinted in my book, Writing Home.
Cindy on October 21st, 2009
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before.
— Edgar Allan Poe, The Raven
Like the perfect pumpkin waiting for a master carver, Halloween never fails to stir the imagination. Not surprisingly, it’s a favorite holiday among the creative souls in my family. Early in October, Doug and I start raiding attics and local thrift shops for the most outlandish outfits we can jumble together. And every year in September, we start work on a project or two to enter in the Anton Art Center‘s annual Halloween art exhibition.
Running now through November 7, this year’s juried group exhibition is aptly titled MASKED. Both of us have two pieces in this show. Mine play on the theme of Victorian autumn carnivals — a theme that has haunted me ever since I first read Ray Bradbury’s atmospheric novel, Something Wicked This Way Comes.
Since I’ve worked as a writer for more than 25 years, it’s probably no surprise that books and writing-related themes have a hand in my artwork. Here’s a preview of my pieces in MASKED:
“Damn everything but the circus!” was inspired by an e.e. cummings poem of the same title. I’ve always loved the circus — yet find it a little scary, too. This altered children’s board book is embellished with antique circus ephemera, vintage costume jewelry, carnival tickets, stars, scraps, and feathers. While working on this piece, I recalled the time I interviewed a lion tamer from a traveling circus act — one of my first and favorite stories for a local newspaper.
“Victoria Fortune’s Magic Box” (top photo) is a mixed media assemblage crafted entirely of found objects, starting with a large jewelry box from a local thrift shop. I painted the box and trimmed it with old lace and trims, then added the odds and ends I’d been collecting for several months. The idea for this project was sparked by an old (non-copyrighted) photo of a sinister-looking group of Victorian sisters. I was intrigued by the mysterious ambiance of the photo, and imagined that the women were part of an autumn carnival act called “The Sisters of Fortune.” I created a story — and the box — around them. The woman wearing the black leather gloves in the center, Victoria Fortune, was a medium with a gift for prophesy. Her box contains items used for her magic acts and tarot readings at the carnival.
For a look at some of my other art pieces, you can link to my Facebook gallery: Altered Art: Found Objects and Curious Things. – CL
Cindy on October 4th, 2009
A gift is as a precious stone in the eyes of the one who has it.” – Proverbs
It was one of those simple gestures you remember for years.
I was sifting through the day’s mail, just a week before I was scheduled for major surgery. Hidden between the bills and catalogs was a small envelope from Miner’s Den, a Royal Oak business I’ve patronized for ages. Expecting an ad for a jewelry sale, I was surprised to find a personal greeting card with a guardian angel coin inside. Also included was a short poem titled “Angel in My Pocket,” which explained, in so many words, that I could count on my guardian angel to keep me company during the total hip replacement surgery I was preparing for.
The card was signed, “From your friends at Miner’s Den,” and it couldn’t have arrived at a better time.
I had been trying hard to appear optimistic for my family and friends, but was secretly terrified of the surgery ahead. While I knew it would restore my ability to walk, I worried about the weeks — maybe months — of physical rehab required to strengthen my new bionic legs. The folks at Miner’s Den had seen me hobbling around their store on a cane earlier that week, so they must have sensed that I needed to remember the real presence of guardian angels — the loving support of good friends. That little coin traveled in my suitcase to the hospital.
We all need something that’s soothing to the touch, whether it’s a special coin, a smooth river stone, or a set of prayer beads. Belief in mystical powers (or membership at any particular church) isn’t required. These small icons simply serve to remind us we’re not alone in our struggles.
Several years ago, when my friend Debbie and I were shopping together, we noticed a display of “spirit stones” in a local gift shop. Each of these small stones was etched with a Native American symbol and polished to a soft sheen. Debbie was going through an especially rough time, and was drawn to the stone depicting a bear claw. The image symbolized courage, so I bought it for her on the spot.
I’d completely forgotten about the courage stone until recently, when Debbie and I were participating in a local women’s retreat. The theme was inspired by the National Day of Prayer, which coincided neatly with the first day of our gathering.
During our evening discussion in the retreat center’s library, Nora, another member of our group, asked us all to pray for the courage she needed to help mend an injured friendship. A moment of silence passed. Then, after taking something from her purse, Debbie rose from her seat and walked toward Nora.
As Debbie opened her hand, I saw the courage stone I’d given her years ago.
“It’s time for me to pass a little courage on to someone else,” Debbie told Nora, explaining how the stone had been given to her when she needed it. “Keep this with you when you need support.”
I was almost as surprised and touched as Nora was.
“It was a gift of immeasurable value, for many reasons,” Nora told me later. “Because the stone isn’t just about courage, it’s about friendship. I’ll definitely pass it along to someone else when the time is right.”
Economic recession aside, I’m convinced that the gifts we treasure most are the small, unexpected ones that show someone was paying attention to our needs and challenges. And when you consider their tremendous ripple effect, tokens like the guardian angel coin and the courage stone are so much larger than they appear. If similar gifts are in your possession, please remember to pass them on. – Cindy La Ferle
–This excerpt is one of 93 pieces from my essay collection, Writing Home. Please ask for a copy at your favorite independent bookstore or order it on Amazon.com. –
