Mod Podge and God

"Can you make slots in the top of these?" I asked my husband late this morning, handing him two Starbucks boxes that were only big enough to fit large mugs, excited for my arts and crafts project.

"Sure," he said, looking at them. "How big do you want them?" I have been talking about this particular idea for weeks, and had just come back from discovering Katonah's local art store, Janet's Planet, flourishing a bag laden with Mod Podge and tissue paper.

"Big enough to put a folded piece of paper in. You know - like a mailbox." Yesterday I had cut up some magazines in preparation for some collage work. I wanted to make a God Box.

In my early 20's I used to make collages as a form of meditation. I kept a folder full of cut outs from magazines and would glue pictures onto cardboard, seeing what I would come up with. Almost like Play Therapy. And then I was at NYU studying Drama Therapy, and my Masters thesis was a performance art piece, called Pandora's Hot Box, Lost in a Spiritual Supermarket. I dare you not to call that a collage.

But. I have never used Mod Podge. How can a girl have never used Mod Podge? I've fantasized about it of course. Imagined a house full of creatively découpaged objects. (Mod Podge is this amazing glue that looks white, but dries clear and glossy.) My excuse was always that my NYC apartment was too small. No space, no time. I need to write after all. Take care of some kids. Let them do all the arts and crafts.

Today was the day Mod Podge and I finally met and married - pictures and tissue paper with the impervious glue. The cut openings are for letters or notes to God (or the Universe, or Higher Self, Higher Power - whatever works for you.) A concrete prayer of letting go or of thanks. Another tool to help me get out of my own way.

I took my supplies up to my bedroom and laid everything out on my purple velvet comforter. Tissue paper, rip! Mod Podge, a picture of a palm tree and a hammock on the beach. God. This first one has to be for my BFF. She's a total beach bunny, while I am. Not. Images, shapes, patterns came to me with her in mind. Mod Podge. I just love those sounds together. God Mod Podge. Mod God Podge. Hmmmm.

Writing has always been the strongest form of prayer for me. Writing things down gives my words weight, makes them real. My journals are full of these types of prayers and my writing is between God and me anyway. This will be a constant, loving reminder.


Of course I made one for myself but it's not quite finished yet - I had to share my supplies with my children when they came home from school. Still, I hope to start out each day with a letter that I can tuck safely away in the God Box, beginning tomorrow. Maybe it will be the simple Serenity Prayer.

This Valentine's Day Was Going to Be Different . . .

My fabulous Girls Write Now mentee Meg and I met early this morning for a post Valentine's Day writing extravaganza at Starbucks. I was groggy (despite my grande skim misto) and neither of us had thought about what we were going to write for the Girls Write Now anthology. What should we write this morning?

Looking for a writing prompt, I peered over at another table where I saw the words emblazoned across the paper - "the stars came out for fashion week, whaddaya think, Meg?" Her expression remained neutral. "Okay, how about this then: This Valentine's Day was going to be different . . ." She started writing.

What about me? I could turn fashion week into a science fiction fiasco, which would be fun, or I could write about Valentines Day . . .

This Valentine's Day was going to be different. I had gotten into the rut of making dippy Valentine's cards with my children and buying them some token candy, but I didn't want to do that again this year. My husband knows to buy me flowers the day before V-Day, saving me a ton of anxiety, because I've often felt bitter about the whole thing. It seems to be a have, or a have-not holiday, a popularity contest when you're in school, (who gets the most cards, candygrams, flowers, etcetera) pressure for togetherness.

Freshman year Valentine's Day I was trapped in boarding school with an unrealistic crush on a senior. There was a whole Valentine's assembly where roses were given out. (Other people have written more extensively and better about this ritual, so I won't do that here.) Would I get a rose from my crush? No, I would be crushed.

The there was the time in my early '20's when I started dating a guy in the beginning of February. We liked each other, but we made the mistake of getting together on Valentine's Day. I think it was our third date, and he was courtly enough to bring a rose, but there was way too much pressure to be romantic and talk too prematurely about where things were going. We laughed, but of course we didn't stand a chance. Oh, V-Day, I was foiled again!

And now that I've been with my husband for almost 14 years, married almost 11, there's still all of this pressure to be romantic on a certain day. A set up, for sure.

But Valentine's Day has so much potential, so much richness in symbolism and potential for ritual. I miss it - when I was a practicing Drama Therapist, I would often commemorate every event with ritual. And now that I have kids it would seem that it would be even more important to do that, so when did I stop bringing this kind of reverence to the table?

I talked to my husband about wanting to get my mojo back in this sense and he was fully supportive but suggested that the important thing was to be able to create a sacred space without making too big a deal out of it, so that it would be fun for everybody. (He knows me so well! I can be so - all or nothing, and I need to often find my way to the middle) I thought about what my Wiccan friends do on solstices, I thought about how simple gifts make my kids smile, so I went out late Saturday night to Duane Reade to see what slim pickins there were in the way of gifts. I bought the requisite chocolate and stuffed animal (frogs - perfect, since the kids have four African water frogs)

Sunday morning we had a full house with one of the boys friends sleeping over, and then a playdate coming over for Scarlett. In between those guests, I quickly gathered husband and kids, (not worrying about doing everything perfectly) some candles and other choice items from my interfaith altar, and had each family member choose a direction: North, West, South and East. Cooper started by lighting the candle of the North and asked for the element of earth to be part of our family. Finn (who takes great stock in being a Pisces) lit the Western candle and asked for the element of water, fluidity and creativity, Scarlett took care of the South, fire with fire, and Rob rounded out our circle with Air, the East. Clarity of mind, intention, which was love, and to say one thing we loved about each family member, and then to say one thing we love about ourselves.

It was so quick, but so intimate and meaningful, my heart soared. We don't need a V-Day to remind us that we love each other, but it was awesome nonetheless.

So yes, it was different this year. I took my boys downtown to a benefit concert for Haiti with the Metropolis Orchestra at the very romantic Le Poisson Rouge, and my husband got to spend some quality time with our daughter. And Rob and I stayed up late watching BIG LOVE on HBO, happy to be with each other, and where we are right now.