Casey, Author at The STUFF Sisters

The Weight of The World

My younger sister believed in angels. Since her death over 20 years ago I too like to think they exist and that she is now among them.

My younger sister believed in angels. Since her death over 20 years ago I too like to think they exist and that she is now among them. When I see a white feather on the ground or blowing by I like to believe it has fallen from an angel’s wings. That maybe my sister or her winged friends have passed my way.

My parents are both terminal cancer patients. Continue reading “The Weight of The World”

Sanctuary

I feel an overwhelming and powerful inner peace when I am where the ocean meets the land. It is my place of worship. It is my church. It is where Mother Nature is the most accessible to me.

Last week I found myself on a beach in February. A rare occasion for me in the dead of winter. I was there because my father has cancer and there is a new challenge to face. I traveled to be with him when he met with yet another cancer specialist. Something that we have done together as a family many, many times before and in many cities.

I didn’t bring a swimsuit or any of my beach gear. I didn’t plan to be on the beach more than a handful of minutes. I told myself that one long walk was all I needed.

When the time was right, I took my walk and headed “up island” (as it is called by the islanders). I kept my eyes on the water as I walked. I didn’t look around. I just listened and watched the waves. I wanted no distractions.

On my return “down island”, I again kept my head turned to the ocean. I found a spot at the water’s edge and kneeled down. I said what I needed to say. I did my best to lay down my fear, pain, and sadness. Mother Nature and the waves listened.

I continued my walk, slowing heading back to the house. Again, eyes on the water.

The tide came in stronger unexpectedly and I ran onto dry ground. As I did, I turned to look at the low slung dunes. The most beautiful sight was right before my eyes. A crude collection of broken shells hung from barren branches. I had walked past it on my journey North. I must not have been ready to feel it or see it when I began my walk. Only on my return did I discover this special spot.

I felt like I had entered a sanctuary. It was mystical and magical. Built by many, for anyone to share. I just explored it without touching anything. I looked into the branches from all angles. I listened to the sound of the waves and how the wind made some of the shells clatter. I sat down and looked up into the branches. I found a spot where I could see both the hanging shells and the water. I sat still and just took deep healing breaths. Before I stood, I thanked Mother Nature for answering my prayers so quickly.

I walked back to my family.

Casey

Note: Only as I started to see the path that leads off the beach did I remember I had my phone hidden with my shoes near the base of a tree. I grabbed it and ran back to take the photos you see in my post. I was thankful I didn’t have it when I came upon it the first time. I had picked up a few broken shells on my walk, I added them to the branches.

I did sneak back out for a sunset the next evening and one last visit to my special place.

Unlucky in Love

I have never been lucky in love. I have written a collection of tragic love stories. They are heartbreaking because I love without limits. I throw myself into love wholly and completely. The crashes are devastating.

I have grown hesitant and protective since my last failed attempt. But, I still dream of love stories to be written by me. It takes a certain kind of bravery to keep trying and I like to think I have that type of courage.

Continue reading “Unlucky in Love”

Words & Boxes

I have been thinking often about writing and writing often about thinking.

I haven’t written a blog post in over a year. I stopped posting blogs because when I drafted something I felt uncomfortable. That is not to say I haven’t been posting or offered a public stream of content. I have been hanging out on the social media channels instead. And most of those posts have been on the store’s pages and feeds, not my own. My personal posting has been meager by comparison.

I want my posts to be authentic. And, all my drafts felt phony.

Continue reading “Words & Boxes”

Casey Faces Her Election Frustration

I am buying myself a new piece of jewelry today. I know many of you know I am being completely serious. But, for people who don’t know me as well, let me explain.

Continue reading “Casey Faces Her Election Frustration”

Finding My Way

I haven’t posted to our blog for a long time. If you follow our blog you may have noticed or maybe, if I am lucky, you didn’t. I left you in very good hands. My sister, Sloane, has been keeping our blog well tended with her lovely writing and unique point of view.

I have been overwhelmed. I don’t feel pressured to have an excuse. I am just ready to write it down and share it. Life has been challenging for me. I am no different than most of the people I know. Everyone is busy living fast and furious it seems. And, sometimes circumstances can knock you on your ass for awhile. That is what happened to me.

When I have challenges that I cannot change, or I am not in the position to change, I rage against my impotence. I am conditioned to my high energy “get it done” personality. So when it is ineffective in a situation I burn ruts in the ground just trying to move something, anything, forward.

I could not change the hurdles that were placed before me this past year. I flailed about grabbing for something to change. My frustrations finally landed on my home. As time marched on I became laser focused on everything wrong with my property. I fed my pain by blaming myself for my inability to find the time and energy to get any projects done. Top of my list was my yard and gardens.

I would drive up my drive and say to myself, “See those weeds and those overgrown vines, do you see them? You are right, your life is awful. Why can’t you get your shit together? Look at your yard. It’s a mess.” You see, that is what I do when I feel helpless, I beat myself up.

I felt so overwhelmed. I began fantasizing about selling my home and moving into a small apartment with no yard, where everything was brand new and I lived on the 130th floor where nobody could find me. I appetite to run away from home was insatiable.

I was advised to sit still and let time help me get to the other side. I wanted to scream. Sit still? Screw that! There are things that must be done. Can you not see the weeds in my yard? I am being covered by weeds Why can’t you see the weeds? Doesn’t anyone see the weeds? I have to pull the weeds.

It was grim.

A few weeks ago, I took this photo with my phone one morning when I was impatiently waiting for my daughter to get out the front door.

This beautiful vignette of my courtyard. I started pulling the image up on my phone to view it randomly. I found it captivating. I wanted to know why I couldn’t avoid sneaking a peek at it a couple times a day. It soothed me.

There was that vine that had slowly and patiently, over the entire summer, crawled it’s way from behind a big planter squeezed against my fence, climbed over two plants, around a metal sculpture and was reaching down to the ground to find it’s footing. It is beautiful.

It began to validate me. I realized I was like that vine. I just need to give myself time to find my way.

I am now pulling a handful of the weeds each day. I am going slowly.

Brick-And-Mortar

I said something a couple days ago and it has been bumping around in my head since. I think I should share it.

“We only have one store. One brick-and-mortar store. One actual, real-life, real-time store. You can touch the stuff, we can see you and feel you. We can share a smile and a conversation face-to-face with you. Just this one little store.”

Sloane and I were speaking to illustration students at the Kansas City Art Institute about choices.

One authentic store. That is what we wanted. That is what we built. That is why we continue to work so hard. It is tangible. It shares the joy of art and creativity with so many. It is never easy.

But, most things worth having in life aren’t easy. We were raised to know that and that is why you will find us, The STUFF Sisters, at our store, again today.

We hope you will come visit soon. We believe it is worth the journey.

Enthusiasm

I get teased a lot for my passion, my enthusiasm, and my boundless energy. I get it. I am a force. I recognize that about myself. Many years ago I stopped trying to quiet my personality

I get teased a lot for my passion, my enthusiasm, and my boundless energy. I get it. I am a force. I recognize that about myself. Many years ago I stopped trying to quiet my personality or to dampen my outgoing nature. It wasn’t easy. I had been shamed by many. I was told I needed to change.

I don’t know if, when I was little, people were trying to change me because I was a girl, but I remember thinking why don’t they ever tell the boys to be quiet?

As an adult woman, I still feel that it is expected, at times, for me to “wait my turn”, to sit still and be quiet, or to be demure.

When I first started therapy 11 years ago, I was in crisis. I was facing seemingly insurmountable challenges. Turns out I was going to be just fine.

I stayed in therapy, and I still value it to this day. I have spent many sessions on self acceptance. Countless journal entries, talks, and reading and writing exercises learning about myself. It is hard when you have been teased and criticized about your core nature and personality.

I know we all do it to each other more often than we realize. I hope I seldom unwittingly hurt someone because of my jokes. I know I have in the past, and for those times I am deeply sorry. And, when I make the mistake in the future, I will apologize and ask for forgiveness.

At 47 years old, I am ready to stop apologizing and to start celebrating. My enthusiasm comes from a deep passion for love, acceptance, creativity and justice. It was how I was built. I am a force. I am proud. I am Casey.

Underwater Lights

Last night I couldn’t sleep. My mind wandered for quite some time. There was no focus or theme. It was completely random. I don’t remember most of it, but I do remember the image that finally lead me into sleep. The image of a pool at night. The blurred bodies and the haze of light. It brought me peace and I fell asleep.

I grew up with a pool outside my bedroom window. It didn’t have underwater pool lights because it was built before that was the trend. I always wanted it to have underwater pool lights. I admired hotel and motel pools because of the underwater lights.

As a teenager my friends and I would pool-hop. Breaking into pools late at night for an illegal dip. I am sure my parents thought we were crazy since we had a perfectly wonderful pool in our courtyard. I am sure it was the allure of the forbidden. And, for me, it was the chance to feel enchanted by those underwater lights.

I often daydream about a pool in my own yard one day. It will have underwater lights.

The photo was taken at the pool of a boutique hotel in Dallas a few years ago. My daughter and my nephew enjoyed a late night swim after a long day of sightseeing.

Bushel and a Peck

My daughter made this tile for me. It is a lyric from a short little song my Grandmother sang to me and I now sing to my daughter. Art makes me happy because when a person chooses to hand make something to share with a specific person or with the world, the love, passion and good intent stays with that piece forever.

The energy in each piece of art I have in my home feeds my soul. Today I will – once again – be surrounded by this magic because I live with art.

Pursue good art. Pursue good stuff…