Merry Christmas

Little Mary: Is this the ear you can’t hear on? [whispering in his bad ear]
Little Mary: George Bailey, I’ll love you ‘til the day I die.

Merry Christmas from Capitol Hill

have a hoppin’ christmas?

a quick picture post

Mom’s been in town. She’s been spoiling us. Jonathan’s been in hell. He just finished. Now it’s time for Christmas. Happiness.

“Christmas Dinner” - Cornish hens from eastern market



 a snowy thursday lunch break with moms



He’s done



celebrations on a snowy thursday



merry christmas from a snowy (and blurry) capital hill

Two of my favorite people. If this doesn’t lighten up your wednesday I don’t know what will. Well…that’s not entirely true. I’m watching Miracle On 34th Street on tv right now (wishing it was the old one as opposed to the new one with the Matilda girl) but at either rate it’s getting me in the Christmas spirit. Goal 1: met My next goal: to stop relating with this quote when it comes to art… “The space that I can call mine.. is so small that my ideas have become small. I am like a caterpillar in a cocoon of paper; all around me are sketches for sculptures, small drawings that seem like moths fluttering against the windows, beating their wings to escape from this tiny space.. Every day the ideas come more reluctantly, as though they know I will starve them and stunt their growth.” — Audrey Niffenegger (The Time Traveler’s Wife) …..and start relating to this one: “The compelling thing about making art—or making anything, I suppose—is the moment when the vaporous, insubstantial idea becomes a solid there, a thing, a substance in a world of substances. Circe, Nimbue, Artemis, Athena, all the old sorceresses: they must have known the feeling as they transformed mere men into fabulous creatures, stole the secrets of the magicians, disposed armies: ah, look, there it is, the new thing. Call it a swine, a war, a laurel tree. Call it art.” — Audrey Niffenegger (The Time Traveler’s Wife) Have I mentioned how much I love this book?