tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31705949148011599712024-03-13T09:42:14.597-05:00I like chickens....I like goats too. And little tiny dogs in outfits. And talking back to the radio. And making fun of the TV. And doodling. And writing stories...Cami Applequisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16641522550354697714noreply@blogger.comBlogger148125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3170594914801159971.post-26708467967795707022016-05-02T20:51:00.000-05:002016-05-02T20:51:24.324-05:00My Life on the Wall for the Crawl<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Spring Art Crawl happened last week -- thought I'd put up a post about it!</div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I know, I know - I never even said the Art Crawl was coming up.... That's how busy I've been.... So busy that I didn't even have time to make chickens for the wall! But at least I am here today giving a sample of what I did get up! I had been working on other projects - including digging into my life for moments that hold meaning to help in some memoir writing. So for the Crawl, I decided to shorten some of these moments into tiny haiku* form and add
illustrations.* Which actually ended up being a great help! In the process of whittling down words and finding a snapshot
image for each in my mind, I was able to pull more clarity in
regards to what specific importance the moments held. (And it was just really fucking fun!)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I had a total of 24 up for the Art Crawl and plan to continue the series. Here are a few:</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUPQn0MxG2JdA5B7fIhQ9bJjRQ_VE8rY7RFCv9B00rhy5V0dyga9vcRkaWSvMNrfje5HZp38QEkhoQEKrmYV6YwJzpOZ22wkW09mZUkr3OCo2RGHXysDtlpPci-EkH_XhLkHaE08r5s0s/s1600/oldgolds.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUPQn0MxG2JdA5B7fIhQ9bJjRQ_VE8rY7RFCv9B00rhy5V0dyga9vcRkaWSvMNrfje5HZp38QEkhoQEKrmYV6YwJzpOZ22wkW09mZUkr3OCo2RGHXysDtlpPci-EkH_XhLkHaE08r5s0s/s200/oldgolds.jpg" width="177" /></a></div>
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<u>Circumstances of My Birth</u></div>
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Dad held the lighter</div>
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that lit my mom's cigarettes</div>
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while she birthed me out.</div>
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(1970)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijdlW-E2vKyJnLk1XeImYD5dZpnQigVXcybhKs6oBtITrKMJtb_XY9BfiTRIUUrCiowgVz5XLsfu-nBsvvqUTIotCtedjsbBrJ1U941g3WvxKeYMg1OXnZY3XYmpcq_92tW3QymYfp4l8/s1600/AndyGibb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijdlW-E2vKyJnLk1XeImYD5dZpnQigVXcybhKs6oBtITrKMJtb_XY9BfiTRIUUrCiowgVz5XLsfu-nBsvvqUTIotCtedjsbBrJ1U941g3WvxKeYMg1OXnZY3XYmpcq_92tW3QymYfp4l8/s320/AndyGibb.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<u><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Heart Throb Cures</span></u></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">My love and Water<br />
Andy Gibb forty five plays -<br />
cures my chicken pox.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">(1977)</span></div>
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<u>Confirmation Day</u></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Menstrual blood stain<br />
on confirmation outfit<br />
confirms God's not real.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">(1984)</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcmZTR6R-Vnh62NubT4Gx62-z-X4q1XXiIDQ8WhtWBzc-k7xr1nt096bhlsUhBQOQsvJ5gyR5WTBcthCo7OCbEYZ57IO5glv3p5s1y1y1PO9s6iBRXVmoIxwPssAWKmSW_cpc1U43Y5GY/s1600/peeper.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="270" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcmZTR6R-Vnh62NubT4Gx62-z-X4q1XXiIDQ8WhtWBzc-k7xr1nt096bhlsUhBQOQsvJ5gyR5WTBcthCo7OCbEYZ57IO5glv3p5s1y1y1PO9s6iBRXVmoIxwPssAWKmSW_cpc1U43Y5GY/s320/peeper.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<u>Peeper</u></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Neighbors excuse for <br />
peeping in my front window:<br />
"I thought we were friends."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">(1996)</span></div>
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<u>Sorry, Dad.</u></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Dad can be so sweet<br />
Carried TV up three flights!<br />
OOOPS. There's my dildo.</span><br />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]-->(2003)
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; text-align: justify;">*notes on the
haiku:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; text-align: justify;">The haiku are
not traditional Japanese haiku but simply follow the 5,7,5 syllable count. Some
would call them senryu –or even </span><i style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; text-align: justify;">spam</i><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; text-align: justify;">-ku.
Maybe we can call them “Cam”ku.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; text-align: justify;">*notes on the
illustrations:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; text-align: justify;">I drew my
illustrations with my left hand - I am right-handed. For much of my life I felt
the need to be perfect (as defined by others) in all that I did. I,
myself, tended to find perfection in imperfection, preferring pre-school art shows
to art museums. I decided I would have more success meeting my own standards if
I were to use my “weaker” hand. And I did!</span></div>
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Cami Applequisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16641522550354697714noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3170594914801159971.post-6955883963549025292015-09-29T11:09:00.000-05:002015-09-29T11:11:27.462-05:00If you can't go to Brazil...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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If you can't go to Brazil, bring Brazil to you!</div>
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... Or have the kids make it with you.</div>
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This summer ArtStart did Brazil Camp and I got to teach Preschool Art! </div>
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I will say no more. </div>
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Just look.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHu1IG-EAoBiPkmIxfH_w7Scpum2w70XG4OOEsVvSThExK4iZR0KgV61IclzZmlqxmZAS1XQDPmiIFnqZgt-iZxtD7lZ-zm1IsjyEb-4iDRawla8ufJd0HGBs50x22QicLHAwATCzNDnc/s1600/MapPM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHu1IG-EAoBiPkmIxfH_w7Scpum2w70XG4OOEsVvSThExK4iZR0KgV61IclzZmlqxmZAS1XQDPmiIFnqZgt-iZxtD7lZ-zm1IsjyEb-4iDRawla8ufJd0HGBs50x22QicLHAwATCzNDnc/s320/MapPM.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Cami Applequisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16641522550354697714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3170594914801159971.post-1289818918073180202015-09-25T22:56:00.000-05:002015-09-25T23:01:50.768-05:00CREATIVITY! (it's important...)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-qP7vh1Wrew8KG6hqaeAjJ7pj1m-siSPe4xAqITTDeJRKpjww8N5OCD26Qy69g6hJ-KHHWs-zB1e4GD7nlmAF-5-q1ulSWA9-Bpt5fNRxNOCbY5JnLvEz7iJDVtRaKaJgwupBj8SY_S8/s1600/frogs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="156" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-qP7vh1Wrew8KG6hqaeAjJ7pj1m-siSPe4xAqITTDeJRKpjww8N5OCD26Qy69g6hJ-KHHWs-zB1e4GD7nlmAF-5-q1ulSWA9-Bpt5fNRxNOCbY5JnLvEz7iJDVtRaKaJgwupBj8SY_S8/s640/frogs.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpIa9lLypSSMQPaqq5rKPV-WCuI-oPqhJrw2xcIsIKO_x7SEjqsvMUsdpKEVHU_OSo852ofwVUS31prWE2N6oqngwJUU1PhyphenhyphenDtg6zK1PiH7oqqK24UbbN4IsMQqk05aJxLqcPBjlGzKfI/s1600/IMG_6810.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpIa9lLypSSMQPaqq5rKPV-WCuI-oPqhJrw2xcIsIKO_x7SEjqsvMUsdpKEVHU_OSo852ofwVUS31prWE2N6oqngwJUU1PhyphenhyphenDtg6zK1PiH7oqqK24UbbN4IsMQqk05aJxLqcPBjlGzKfI/s200/IMG_6810.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
Often times creative people are called nonconformists, oddballs, weirdos... but that is often because creativity is only viewed in the sense of the artistic realm. And we artists are, indeed, often nonconformist oddball weirdos. (Not really. We are actually pretty normal and boring, we just pretend well and dress funny.) Anyhow, what I want to say is that creativity is about problem solving. It is about looking at things from new angles, finding new approaches, having limitless ways of seeing. <br />
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The ability to look at things and link them together in new ways to form new things and new ideas and come up with solutions no one else ever thought of, <em>that </em>is creativity. And that is something everyone needs to have - not just the artists of the world. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmPnNnRnLtNKv8Qzo9zVBwnGmHP9kUPlb6vTYt-Ys2yVWZc5LNkqHxt1XRP23u5Y_0kQ5oRhPkzxKvklmfbSfKO1hfaSXfGWl1ILy-pszErVNeSBJdIYLysbZWU8Uf03D9oC3D2e7TYo8/s1600/flower.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmPnNnRnLtNKv8Qzo9zVBwnGmHP9kUPlb6vTYt-Ys2yVWZc5LNkqHxt1XRP23u5Y_0kQ5oRhPkzxKvklmfbSfKO1hfaSXfGWl1ILy-pszErVNeSBJdIYLysbZWU8Uf03D9oC3D2e7TYo8/s200/flower.jpg" width="200" /></a>Even though you don't have to be an artist to be creative, one of the best ways for children to build creativity skills, is by making art, by becoming a young artist. Playing with art materials at a young age engages children in the process of creation and problem solving. It teaches them to take risks, use their imagination, be flexible and spontaneous. The list of benefits that some time engaging with the arts can give a child is almost endless.<br />
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Make art with your kids if you can -- if you can't, I will be leading some classes that you will find listed here and there are always plenty around the Twin Cities for kids. I will be adding more here about kids and creativity as time goes!<br />
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You can call 612-388-5308 to register for the classes below.<br />
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Cami Applequisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16641522550354697714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3170594914801159971.post-56689444130252670932015-06-27T11:15:00.000-05:002015-06-27T11:30:02.204-05:00Celebrate but Don't Stop the Fight! (and/or) I'll never do that again! The Supreme Court Decision on Same Sex Marriage had me in tears much of yesterday. They were tears of joy, surprise, relief, and pride in a job well done by a determined group of people. But there were also more than a few tears of sorrow and deep concern. In every single positive tweet and Facebook post, in every joyful phone call and text I got, I couldn't help but imagine the thousands if not millions of angry hateful messages that were being put out into the world at the same time. And I have to admit, I tortured myself and looked at a few. And they are angry and they are turning up the volume. Here's a tweet from American Family Radio host Bryan Fischer - I'm hoping the retweets and favorites were all from people like me who had solid anti-AFR comments to go with them!<br />
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I don't want those of us basking in this celebration to assume that this win is going to overshadow all of the negative talk. Politically, we made it. We got this win. But person by person there are still a lot of individuals out there living in oppressive environments that are unaccepting, even hateful: families, churches, small town cultures and other situations that are denying them their true identity. So celebrate but don't stop here!<br />
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In 2010, Rolling Stone featured a story on Anoka MN,<a href="http://www.rollingstone.com/politics/news/one-towns-war-on-gay-teens-20120202" target="_blank"> "One Town's War on Gay Teen's: In Michelle Bachmann's home district, evangelicals have created have created an extreme anti-gay climate. After a rash of suicides, the kids are fighting back."</a> (You can click that to read it.) I wrote a response to that situation that was published as commentary in Lavender Magazine. I'm putting that out again today because I think it's good to remember now, even in light of this amazing milestone.<br />
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Lavender titled it <em>Supportive Adults Need To Be Visible and Available to GLBT Youth </em>(I'd probably call it <em>I'll never do that again.</em>)<br />
November 2010-<br />
In light of the recent surge in teen suicides and prevalence of teen bullying, I wanted to put out a call to all adults who are supporters of GLBT youth to make themselves visible and available to kids in their communities.<br />
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I applaud all of those who have spoken in the It Gets Better Campaign, and who have broadcast their own stories to the world. Their voices are irreplaceable! For kids to hear from people who have experienced similar struggles and survived to become happy adults, there may be nothing more helpful - except maybe an adult in their life who is willing to listen and be accepting.<br />
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When a child is surrounded by peers who don't understand; teachers and school staff who aren't allowed to talk about the issue of sexual orientation; and families who may be unaccepting, finding an adult they can trust to listen to and validate them may be next to impossible.<br />
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There is a lot of pressure in our society to not discuss sexuality issues with minors. In recent years, I was employed as a youth director at a very liberal, open, and affirming Christian church. Even in this environment, I was told firmly by the co-pastors I could not have one-on-one discussions with the youth.<br />
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This happened after they demanded I tell them what my conversations were with a specific member of the youth group. I so happened that this teen's parents had requested I talk with their child because of struggles with sexual identity. They were very supportive of their child and wanted to add another supportive adult into the conversation.<br />
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When confronted by the authoritative pastors (who, I presume, had church politics in mind), I felt obligated to tell them the topic of our talks, and I did. I was subsequently told that these conversations were not appropriate; that I was not qualified to have them; and that, therefore, I was not allowed to have further one-on-one conversations with any youth group member.<br />
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Even though the pastors were very supportive of the GLBT community, and no obvious harm or embarrassment came to anyone from doing so, I completely and wholly regret betraying this teen and the family. I will never allow myself to be intimidated into that situation again.<br />
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My point is that if someone trained at the Master's level in Religious Leadership, in the position of Youth Director, upon request of parents to discuss this topic with a minor cannot do so - who can? My answer is: <em>all of us.</em><br />
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There was no fault or harm done on my part. By letting this teen talk about fears of being labeled, bullied, and teased because of sexual orientation, I did not as many may assume, bring up anything within the realm of sexual activity, or encourage or validate sexual behavior.<br />
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In fact, it was an opportunity to encourage responsibility, respect, and mindfulness when it came to any relationship, including romantic interests, as well as those with friends, family, peers and especially oneself. These types of conversations are important. They may mean the difference between happiness and misery - and as we have seen lately, even life and death.<br />
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It is our job as supportive adults to allow these kids to talk, and let them know there are people who support them who are not offended, grossed out, disgusted, angry, or disappointed with them for their feelings. Most of all, we need to show them we are not fearful of others who me be all of that, or plain out fearful of what the political consequences of talking to kids will be.<br />
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I closed an open door on an entire group of kids because someone else told me I had to. I will never do that again. In fact, I will be opening my door to anyone who needs an ear.<br />
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I am hoping the rest of you will join me. Put a Human Rights Campaign or GLBT Pride or ally sticker on your car, in the front window of your house, on the back of a binder you carry, on your shirt - anywhere to let these kids know you are someone who will listen without judgment. Do something to advertise your acceptance of GLBT youth.<br />
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Even if you are in a position where an authority figure or a family member has said you cannot discuss these things, you can quietly advertise your support to your students, young relatives, employees, patients, fellow congregants... whoever the youth in your life might be. Let them know you are someone they can trust. And offer an ear when they request one!Cami Applequisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16641522550354697714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3170594914801159971.post-5206105951591821632015-05-28T11:47:00.000-05:002015-05-28T12:30:29.359-05:00Macy Woman: Please head to the tornado shelter to find your pants.I am an artist and a nanny so by the end of each day I am covered in some sort of goo that I wouldn't want to see on any article of clothing worth over twenty dollars. <br />
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Recently, however, the day came where I needed a pair of dress pants. The building where my studio is located was hosting an event for gallery owners and other people with real art clout. Clothes splattered with paint and booger remnants wouldn't cut it. So for the first time in a few years I headed to Macy's.</div>
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Nothing there. (But you can't miss Juniors.)</div>
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There was nothing on Level One either. Although it was interesting to see Petites sequestered there. Often in department stores you find Petites and Plus Sizes side by side because, you know, fat people and short people are always friends and shop together.</div>
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I headed down one level to the basement thinking "No way. Not the basement."</div>
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I rode the escalator to the bottom. The sign said nothing about <em>Macy Woman</em> or Plus Sizes. Maybe they had moved the department to a different location all together, I thought. I recalled that years ago at another mall, the <em>Woman </em>had to leave the main store and walk across the mall to another location completely. </div>
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But then I saw her. I looked way down the hall and there was a headless body. A Plus Size mannequin. <em><strong>A Woman.</strong></em></div>
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At the very end of the hall, past all of the china and the kitchen appliances, all of the comforters and all of the sheets and towels, past the pillows and rugs and luggage, there she stood. I had found the Plus Size clothing at Macy's.</div>
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I made the trek down to the end of that hall to discover why they had decided to move these clothes all the way down to what was really a better fit for the tornado shelter or maybe the last chance discount bins.</div>
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I asked the first sales person I saw near the racks if she knew the reason for its separation from the rest of women's clothing. She reminded me of a sparrow. Very tiny, very light - her suit coat hanging stiffly like feathers on a bird. Her small eyes flitted back and forth nervously behind her tiny glasses as she said, "Well, I'm not sure. It's been like this since I've worked here." And then she walked off to Housewares. Not her department.</div>
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I found two sturdier women, each a <em>Woman, </em>more appropriately assigned to this department and much more solid in their demeanor as well. I am sure they were trained to be conscious of the store's reputation as well as the customer's satisfaction, so I am certain I was putting them in an awkward position by asking them a question for which their answer may make Macy's management uncomfortable.</div>
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"Do either of you know why this department is so far from the rest of the women's clothing?"</div>
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They both began with how it had been like that since they started their jobs. I could tell it wasn't the first time they had heard the question so I begged for a better answer and reframed the question. I changed it from simply 'why' to whether or not they found it offensive or absurd.</div>
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"Yes" they both agreed, "it's awful." They encouraged me as they "do everyone" to talk to the store managers in the offices "right there." They pointed.</div>
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We were so far off the main drag of the store that we were standing only a few feet from the doors of the Executive and HR offices.</div>
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In the Executive Offices I was introduced to a store manager named Beth*. She was short and plump and dressed in a very Manhattan black suit, her hair in an edgy blond bob. She has been with Macy's for over 35 years. We had about a ten minute conversation.</div>
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Beth's reasoning for the placement of the department in Tornado Corner (my words, not hers) was the need for more space. More vendors had been added, she said.</div>
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"But the old space up on Level Two," I said, "seemed like the exact same size as what is currently in the basement."</div>
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I went so far as to offer up my own time to step off the space on Level Two and then in the basement to compare. Beth said that wasn't necessary.</div>
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I tried to get Beth to tell me what I guessed is the <em>real</em> reason the department had been moved: to hide it, and its shoppers, in a place where there was little foot traffic, few shoppers. </div>
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I mentioned that it seemed offensive that a <em>Woman</em> with money (a woman, perhaps, with an education, a career, and a family) had to come the darker drearier section of the store to make purchases for herself. Meanwhile, the juniors, the younger (and let's face it, thinner) shoppers, many without their own money, are celebrated upstairs with better lighting, decorations, various other departments and even simply more people around her to keep her company. </div>
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"Well," Beth said, "we moved <em>Macy Woman</em> down here to have more <em>space</em>." </div>
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That's when I decided I needed to take a risk. I asked Beth if she herself shopped in the department, knowing that that she may take offense. That is, after all, an expectation. One must not ever admit to shopping in the Plus Size department. Shhh. They are in the <em>basement, </em>you know,<em> </em>where <em>fat</em> people have to shop.</div>
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She openly admitted it. And she said she loved the privacy of having the corner of the basement to shop in. </div>
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Emboldened, I took risk number two. "Because you're fat and ashamed?" (I can ask this because I am fat and not ashamed. If I were thin, I may have been attacked for asking. If I were ashamed, I may not have been able to ask without crying.)</div>
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Her immediate answer stunned me. "Yeah, I guess." Looking at her, I smiled and nodded silently. Caught! For a moment I had her. I saw on her face that she knew <em>I knew.</em> I knew that she was full of it and everyone understands that the <em>Macy Woman</em> has her place in the basement because Macy's wants her there. For about three seconds she let me know that she understood that the clear messages Macy's is sending its larger female customers is "You don't really matter.' and 'Be ashamed'. </div>
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Then I lost her. I asked about the messages they might be sending to customers and the light went off and she began to talk about how <em>Macy Woman</em> is big business for Macy's, that Macy's loves their customers. </div>
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Beth paused. Then she asked me where I liked to shop. I didn't want to offer her marketing tips. It seems like a woman who has been in retail management for 35 years should be aware of how her market works without having to ask me. I declined to answer. But I will tell you.</div>
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First of all: Not in the basement, unless it's one of those clearance stores where it's ALL in the basement. </div>
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I want to shop where the sales people look delighted to be in their department. Not disgusted. </div>
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I want to find current styles in my size at the same places all women shop; NOT just the short and large ones. </div>
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I want to shop at places that celebrate every woman for being exactly who she is.</div>
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I want to shop where I am not differentiated because of my (PLUS) size. We are all women - with sizes. No one is a Plus Size. No one is a <em>Woman.</em> </div>
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Here's an idea: Just extend the damn racks.</div>
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*Beth is not her real name. </div>
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Cami Applequisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16641522550354697714noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3170594914801159971.post-45412031351739656742015-05-21T08:29:00.000-05:002015-05-21T21:33:30.014-05:00Bok! Bok! Putt! Putt! -- Season Two<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<em>Alumni News: Cami Applequist 1995 - BA Business/Communications - now designing minigolf holes.</em> (Wait, What?)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTydrN6TtOh_PXY8G60EpZYLhjTCo4SuOlqqM1B5XYehn3w-z6PgnecE7JN3JKb3bzAj0f3a37Bqhiiw1Av8cU3ABRHNN4-IKMS7q2AYYIq7oXI2t9OH1wDwm1-2DbzhY5MJjfLiZ1TK0/s1600/gwcp3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTydrN6TtOh_PXY8G60EpZYLhjTCo4SuOlqqM1B5XYehn3w-z6PgnecE7JN3JKb3bzAj0f3a37Bqhiiw1Av8cU3ABRHNN4-IKMS7q2AYYIq7oXI2t9OH1wDwm1-2DbzhY5MJjfLiZ1TK0/s400/gwcp3.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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Twenty-five years ago today I was two days from turning 20 years old. I doubt that on my list of things I hoped to accomplish entering college as a business student was to design a mini-golf hole by age 45. In fact, my guess is it probably never crossed my mind. But everything in my life over the past 25 years has led me to a place where that is my artist reality now, two days before my 45th birthday. And it's fun!</div>
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Making chicken art is a way better gig than doing business communications.</div>
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(No Offense Dr. Gauthreaux.) </div>
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"Guess What? Chicken Putt!" was designed last year by Brian Fewell and me and is available to play for its second season at the <a href="http://www.walkerart.org/press/browse/press-releases/2015/walker-on-the-green-artist-designed-mini-golf" target="_blank">Walker Sculpture Garden</a> all summer in Minneapolis! </div>
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#ChickenPutt with a picture if you go!</div>
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Cami Applequisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16641522550354697714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3170594914801159971.post-32953279001371433522015-05-08T14:31:00.002-05:002015-05-08T14:34:12.985-05:00disabilities...<br />
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from - The World According to Mr. Rogers</div>
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Important things to Remember</div>
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I agree. 100%. </div>
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That's all.</div>
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Cami Applequisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16641522550354697714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3170594914801159971.post-15219912969075369102015-05-03T10:27:00.000-05:002015-05-03T19:58:50.742-05:00#ArtOrNotArt - A Discussion Starts<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I am surrounded by art. The <a href="http://www.lowertownlofts.org/" target="_blank">building</a> where I live consists
solely of artists and their families. It's a cooperative and you can't buy in unless you are one. The neighborhood
where that building sits is in the middle of an arts district that hosts an art
crawl twice a year that draws crowds of thousands to wander the studios and
streets to experience the art scene for three consecutive days. There’s art to see, hear, read and feel in almost every building and on every corner.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I’ve lived here for two and a half years. The process of
moving in involved an application and an interview: official acceptance as an
artist by other artists.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not everyone in
the area needed to apply, but my guess is every artist around here at some point has felt that
same panic I did. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Am I really an artist?
Is my art really art? Can I call myself an artist? Can I be part of this club? </i>(and
for me: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I make chickens and take pictures
of toys for Cripe’s sake...Does that count?!</i>)<o:p></o:p></div>
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These questions settled down once I moved in, but they never
stop. And that’s probably not such a bad thing. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">What is art?</i> is probably the question that keeps art alive. But at
times it has felt like a burden. The stumbling block that tells me I am not
educated or trained enough to be a real artist and I feel like I can’t move
forward.<o:p></o:p></div>
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This conversation is one I have had for a few months with
fellow artist and good friend Brian Fewell who designed <a href="http://www.walkerart.org/press/browse/press-releases/2015/walker-on-the-green-artist-designed-mini-golf" target="_blank">“Guess What? ChickenPutt!”</a> with me last year that is part of the Walker’s mini-golf course. (Which, by the way, made us <em>real</em> artists in the eyes of some people who had refused to see us as such prior to being at <u>THE</u> Walker - an entire chapter of this conversation in itself...)<br />
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We
decided to turn our chat into a larger conversation at this spring’s <a href="http://www.saintpaulartcrawl.org/" target="_blank">Saint Paul ArtCrawl</a> and invite everyone who came through to chime in. <o:p></o:p></div>
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We hung several examples of things we have been commenting
on and things we thought were good examples of what may not be considered art.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<o:p></o:p><br />
As we were setting up the display, one of the more esteemed artists in the cooperative took issue with this piece by our fellow co-op member Joe Krumpelmann:<br />
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She claimed it had no place on our floor. "It didn't <em>go</em> with anything." I tried to explain our exhibit.<br />
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She talked over me, declaring that people had been running into it and that someone was bound to be hurt. I ensured her I would make sure that the required 48 inches of walking space was maintained between it and the wall across from it.<br />
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Her voice raised. She continued her plight to remove the piece with raised voice and talk of great concern for the well-being of the piece itself. "It's sure to get damaged. People coming around the corner will knock into it and knock it off the stool and break it. It needs to go."<br />
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I said first that it was a tree stump and very likely to withstand a three foot drop but also that this was a decision perhaps best discussed with Joe, the artist. <br />
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I knocked on Joe's door as she stood back a few feet. "Joe, are you at all concerned about your piece being damaged?" He smiled. "That thing? No, It can't be damaged. Don't worry."<br />
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"Decision made. It stays. Thank you."<br />
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"Wait! It's a STUMP. On a STOOL. From your KITCHEN.... Why is it here?" <br />
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Ah. Critique. An established academic artist gets to be critic and curator.<br />
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"That's the question of our little exhibit! You can leave your comments on the clipboard hanging over there. But this is our space and you do not get to decide what stays."<br />
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"No - either this goes or that goes." (she motioned to a little stool and walked away.)<br />
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She left no comments. So I am putting them here. See the above paragraphs.<br />
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<span style="color: black; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p>Many Art Crawlers had this to say about Joe's piece:</o:p></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgL6sjVHa0C5QwWr8YUlgoSxJpxcpRcCuOWMRW5n2PMnW-3zXeekQmYSsymGN99RVFg8vj6SAEvEky05Lvm8h04VcrmdiXigzNPkYfIJ138q8JN22nUOMzQ_enQc3fD2fpeLHfkXwc5-0/s1600/stumpisart1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgL6sjVHa0C5QwWr8YUlgoSxJpxcpRcCuOWMRW5n2PMnW-3zXeekQmYSsymGN99RVFg8vj6SAEvEky05Lvm8h04VcrmdiXigzNPkYfIJ138q8JN22nUOMzQ_enQc3fD2fpeLHfkXwc5-0/s1600/stumpisart1.jpg" height="97" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(also heard: "The stump is TOTALLY art!", "Yup, the tree thing is art.")</td></tr>
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<span style="color: black; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="color: black; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p>I loved this exhibit. We had great conversations with lots of great people. Most common was the idea that art is subjective. People felt that it's up to an individual to decide. But for emerging artists who were struggling to move forward there were harder questions about gatekeepers and critics. Who gets to decide if it's good art or bad art? And why?</o:p></span><br />
<span style="color: black; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="color: black; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p>Who decides if the stump is art and whether or not it stays in the show? In our case we did because it was my space, outside of my studio and I stood my ground with my esteemed artist neighbor.</o:p></span><br />
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<span style="color: black; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p>What do you think about Brian's piece, <em>Geoffrey on a Saturday Morning</em>? </o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p>Art? Or Not Art?</o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p>We are going to continue the conversation on Facebook, Instagram and Tw</o:p></span><span style="color: black; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p>itter. </o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p>#ArtOrNotArt and @IsItArtOrNotArt.</o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p>Please follow us and leave comments there (or here on my blog!)</o:p></span><br />
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Cami Applequisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16641522550354697714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3170594914801159971.post-54124436281720042922015-04-29T20:57:00.000-05:002015-04-29T21:02:41.484-05:00Why I am not a Christian Jock I am not an athlete. I have never been an athlete. I do not crave athletic victory. I saw this little plaque at my favorite thrift store today. Maybe this is my problem: I just don't love Jesus enough because I am a Unitarian.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju5JwCkYt5bMN5NAuOu8tWoJy51kzrWB0bn82Om-o8ZFFcaPEYDPT3UEr1wNrKjOAE2YjphxIH12Yzvmpf9ngWcOFv2Vr_SBBcRaxj9IxVfX72eRxgkr77S0uNGUxVYPREB1ob5FOtpfE/s1600/JCvictory.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju5JwCkYt5bMN5NAuOu8tWoJy51kzrWB0bn82Om-o8ZFFcaPEYDPT3UEr1wNrKjOAE2YjphxIH12Yzvmpf9ngWcOFv2Vr_SBBcRaxj9IxVfX72eRxgkr77S0uNGUxVYPREB1ob5FOtpfE/s1600/JCvictory.jpg" height="400" width="318" /></a></div>
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Actually - probably not. I'm probably just really crappy at sports.<br />
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Jesus doesn't have anything to do with the images on this plaque. I spent four years studying at a Christian seminary and not once did I see a class listing for <em>Sports Victories with Jesus</em> or <em>How to Score With Christ</em>. In fact most of the classes I took seemed to say the opposite of what this here little plaque says. And I'll be honest, I never read the <em>whole</em> Bible, but I seriously doubt it says "If Thou forgets not the teachings of Christ while partaking in Motocross and Baseball competitions, victories are guaranteed." In fact, they didn't even have motorcycles and baseballs back in the days when they thought the earth was flat. I know <em>that</em> for sure.<br />
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I bought the plaque for 99 cents. I didn't want some little old lady getting it for her great grand-children and giving them the wrong message about Jesus. I'm not a Christian but I have a lot of respect for Jesus and what the man was trying to do way back before he died and people became Christians who eventually wound up making things like this ridiculous plaque.Cami Applequisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16641522550354697714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3170594914801159971.post-24902759973541405292015-04-26T10:03:00.000-05:002015-04-26T10:03:06.837-05:00I live in Lowertown: the heart of Saint Paul, Minnesota and one of the most amazing arts districts in the country. If someone would have told me back in 10th grade that I'd be living in this type of neighborhood surrounded by so many whacky wonderful artists and art lovers I would have told them to stop putting unrealistic dreams in my head.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit_RxIoA8Q4b55zy-8oPdep8lCYP_21MXxFYNmCsm2NJeRu_QkQ04Bu1cmvLLsgY-vJDZlUdQwhUrbDB-xw_atpHSzdX8TaZuQkvaCyXj3XFVRi_bsHBqG_5fWOxkkrM8nc00aIFdrcbs/s1600/ioloto41.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit_RxIoA8Q4b55zy-8oPdep8lCYP_21MXxFYNmCsm2NJeRu_QkQ04Bu1cmvLLsgY-vJDZlUdQwhUrbDB-xw_atpHSzdX8TaZuQkvaCyXj3XFVRi_bsHBqG_5fWOxkkrM8nc00aIFdrcbs/s1600/ioloto41.jpg" height="200" width="400" /></a></div>
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Right now anyone can drive though Lowertown and see the faces that inspire and engage me every day. Three wonderful women in Lowertown Nancy Reardon, Rachel Wacker and Gail Groop organized our participation in a Global public art project called Inside Out begun by French artist, JR. He calls the project <a href="http://www.insideoutproject.net/en" target="_blank">INSIDE OUT</a> to reflect his mission to “turn the world Inside Out” through art. <br />
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On the Project site you can see global locations and images of beautiful faces around the planet who are taking part <a href="http://www.insideoutproject.net/">www.insideoutproject.net</a> (make sure to check out the 'best of' section if you do't have time to look at it all. <br />
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The Inside Out Lowertown project can be found at <a href="http://www.insideoutlowertown.com/">www.InsideOutLowertown.com</a> complete with bios of the artists and images of some of our work. It's really an awesome thing - take time to check it out if you can!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCRpmVxn11wFbywLRRmsdSBoCBNzpPRYLlOsXxT_qu3KU1WHmvCqOep4pbx2bY0pRvR6ycWHsovK3qc_W6F88uQlRyu-IOyL_vh5Wtq995SheNbWeRqk-HC5MgTLX3G423FhvU9e8BDXE/s1600/ioloto7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCRpmVxn11wFbywLRRmsdSBoCBNzpPRYLlOsXxT_qu3KU1WHmvCqOep4pbx2bY0pRvR6ycWHsovK3qc_W6F88uQlRyu-IOyL_vh5Wtq995SheNbWeRqk-HC5MgTLX3G423FhvU9e8BDXE/s1600/ioloto7.jpg" height="225" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(that's me there - number 4 - hoping no one adds a mustsche... but then I'll just look like <br />
Justin, number 1 - and that's OK too I guess... He's adorable.)<br />
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Cami Applequisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16641522550354697714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3170594914801159971.post-84347664652075166582015-04-13T14:30:00.001-05:002015-04-13T14:30:54.666-05:00<div style="text-align: center;">
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It's already time again for the <a href="http://www.stpaulartcrawl.com/" target="_blank">St. Paul Art Crawl!</a></div>
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I've been busy the past few months getting my 'real' life in order. And by 'real' I mean the part of my life that keeps me clothed and provides me important stuff like health insurance and groceries... finding steady employment and all that. So my blog has been neglected - but never fear, I have a wall full of chickens awaiting Crawl vistors at the <a href="http://www.lowertownlofts.com/" target="_blank">Lowertown Lofts Artists Cooperative</a> and Brian (from "Guess What? Chicken Putt!") and Tanya (from my sisterhood of women who rock) will have a little display of images and pieces we have created with a question in mind for viewers. Come down to find out what we want to know. Come take part in my fantasy life that I never thought I'd get to live!<br />
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Kitty will also be featured in a fantastic banana video and a series of photos - do not miss out! </div>
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April 24 - 25 - 26 </div>
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Friday: 6-10, Saturday: 12-8, Sunday: 12-5</div>
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All over Lowertown in St. Paul MN</div>
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find me in and around studio 510 at 255 East Kellogg Blvd.</div>
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entrance in the alley between Wall and Wacouta</div>
Cami Applequisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16641522550354697714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3170594914801159971.post-57678114640172111672014-10-10T08:57:00.001-05:002014-10-10T08:57:24.556-05:00Introducing Derek!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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One of my very favorite things in life is to meet a kid who loves to create - and I met one this summer who blew me away. I volunteered at a bike race Art Tent decorating racing numbers with little kids and youth artist, Derek Bellas, volunteered too. We happened to have sidewalk chalk on hand. </div>
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In a matter of minutes, Derek managed to turn the entire intersection on which we were stationed into a gigantic work of art and it was amazing.</div>
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The Lowertown Lofts Artist Cooperative has invited Derek to come down for the Fall Art Crawl and do the same in our alley on Saturday morning. Don't miss his work behind 255 East Kellogg between our building and 262 on the alley between Wall and Wacouta.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW8mF-HbQcNXjyqpPETVPBEreRCZm3AevTCgEX48L1ELi_wtWqaQi-LoAHWBH7YHFYMLOUCYnTKpiuvPRdpIt5Qk2_0VX1erQM_1iltmXClmB0QTUw1KeAfa4TzDxW0o1w7g8Z2DMlRlI/s1600/Derekartonthestreet2+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW8mF-HbQcNXjyqpPETVPBEreRCZm3AevTCgEX48L1ELi_wtWqaQi-LoAHWBH7YHFYMLOUCYnTKpiuvPRdpIt5Qk2_0VX1erQM_1iltmXClmB0QTUw1KeAfa4TzDxW0o1w7g8Z2DMlRlI/s1600/Derekartonthestreet2+copy.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></div>
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<em>info and free bus/rail passes: </em><a href="http://www.stpaulartcrawl.org/"><em>www.stpaulartcrawl.org</em></a><em> and LLAC info: </em><a href="http://www.lowertownlofts.org/"><em>www.lowertownlofts.org</em></a> Cami Applequisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16641522550354697714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3170594914801159971.post-12748836213371391322014-09-28T19:14:00.000-05:002014-09-28T19:14:49.161-05:00Sometimes, it's not about chickens. But don't tell the chickens.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="http://www.stpaulartcrawl.org/" target="_blank">Come to the Art Crawl October 10, 11 and 12!</a></div>
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See these guys at the Lowertown Lofts Artist Cooperative on the fifth floor!</div>
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<a href="http://www.lowertownlofts.org/">www.lowertownlofts.org</a></div>
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Cami Applequisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16641522550354697714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3170594914801159971.post-70057893557483035502014-09-27T16:00:00.001-05:002014-09-27T16:03:26.017-05:00Make Cranes With Hannah at the Crawl!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">1000 cranes. Three days. We can do it.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrxGZpwcy_rjlItE7i1iDpMxqDzZHEaXZlg1Ynp06kOhVo_q-JmDOLsZ01OE_QGs3r5KQd6W7w3XxrSZVW-dy5UbPK-Sg2p5q9fMMk_6EZ5Hzi2uOtLvTfs8xIQqPkz8gHuaffYCqh_TI/s1600/untitled.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrxGZpwcy_rjlItE7i1iDpMxqDzZHEaXZlg1Ynp06kOhVo_q-JmDOLsZ01OE_QGs3r5KQd6W7w3XxrSZVW-dy5UbPK-Sg2p5q9fMMk_6EZ5Hzi2uOtLvTfs8xIQqPkz8gHuaffYCqh_TI/s1600/untitled.png" height="320" width="318" /></a></div>
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That's Hannah! Hannah is a superstar origami crane maker and will be one of our featured guest artists at the Saint Paul Art Crawl in a couple of weeks! She has already folded over 200 cranes herself and is hoping to hang 1000 of them in our atrium during the weekend in the Lowertown Lofts Artist Cooperative. She will be doing demos on Saturday October 11 from 5:00 to 7:00 p.m. and Sunday October 12 from 1:30 to 3:30 p.m. We will have instructions and help from coop artists who Hannah has trained at all times throughout the Crawl so stop by any time to help her reach her goal!<br />
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Information about the Saint Paul Art Crawl can be found at <a href="http://www.stpaulartcrawl.org/" target="_blank">http://www.stpaulartcrawl.org/</a></div>
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October 10, 11 and 12</div>
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Lowertown Lofts Artist Cooperative information is at <a href="http://www.lowertownlofts.org/">www.lowertownlofts.org</a></div>
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255 East Kellogg Blvd. Alley Entrance - Hannah will be on Fifth Floor in the atrium.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBczGuyOwUu1M3Z-l7gq68Dio5Y915euzTZNbxQtasQ029YdWA86mDS7pxDlG1UG5nwssd9zP4lR3-MAeBMUtk6zqFyplzq0Wyozvvze7CUivPdHYkGdvNfNO9292XXFPmNSRz4dfDE70/s1600/mapcrop.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBczGuyOwUu1M3Z-l7gq68Dio5Y915euzTZNbxQtasQ029YdWA86mDS7pxDlG1UG5nwssd9zP4lR3-MAeBMUtk6zqFyplzq0Wyozvvze7CUivPdHYkGdvNfNO9292XXFPmNSRz4dfDE70/s1600/mapcrop.png" height="181" width="320" /></a></div>
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PS - You can get FREE LIGHT RAIL/BUS PASSES at the art <a href="https://www.snapsurveys.com/wh/s.asp?k=141086814924" target="_blank">Art Crawl web site</a> and the train gets you right to the Union Depot Station, a block away from us and smack dab in the middle of the Art Crawl!</div>
Cami Applequisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16641522550354697714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3170594914801159971.post-15005382829188656792014-09-11T08:34:00.000-05:002014-09-11T08:34:21.272-05:00Listen, Take It In, Repeat, Listen for More, Repeat…
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<span style="line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> I called this blog post <em>'Listen, Take it in, Repeat, Listen for More, Repeat...'</em> for the Emily Program. That's an important message I want to get through with the post - but I think underlying that is another message: working with kids can change your life!</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> Subtitle: I Love Being a Nanny. (Listen, Take It In, Repeat, Listen for More, Repeat…)</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> A while back I was getting ready to leave work as a nanny for
two girls, ages 5 and 3, who knew I was going to officiate my cousin’s wedding
that Saturday.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“What are you going to wear to the wedding, Cami? You’ll
wear a dress right? It’s a wedding so you <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">have</i>
to wear a dress!” Emma said.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Cami hates dresses, you know that!” said Megan. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Right, Cami?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>You don’t even have a dress do you?” </span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">She was right. I owned no dresses.</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Yes, she does! She
has a dress!” Emma looked at me. “Cami, you have that really pretty shiny black
dress! Remember?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Megan and I stared at her for a moment trying to recall a
time when I wore a shiny black dress.</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Finally Megan said, “OOOOOH, I know what you mean, Emma! No.
That’s not a dress. That’s her <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">swimsuit</i>.
She’s talking about your swimsuit, Cami. It <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">is</i>
really pretty. You should wear that.”</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Yeah! Wear that. You look so <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">so</i> pretty in that.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I smiled, imagining what my mother’s face would look like if
I showed up to officiate my cousin’s wedding in a swimsuit. “Thanks,girls! I
don’t know if I should wear my swimsuit to a wedding, but I’ll think about it.”
I left with a warm heart and a new sense of what I looked like in my swimsuit.</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I did think about
it. A lot.</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">On the way home, I recalled all of the times I walked
through the YMCA or around the city pools with the kids ashamed of myself and
my body, hurrying to get into the pool so I could hide in the water where no
one would see me in my swimsuit. I remembered the times throughout my life I
cried because I felt too fat to go swimming.</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remembered the
times I heard people make comments about my body or someone else’s body at the
pool – or times I commented on other people myself. I remembered the discomfort
and embarrassment of shopping for a swimsuit and wishing I could just never
have to wear one even though swimming was one of my favorite activities. I
cried.</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">But the tears weren’t because I was still ashamed. I was
finally at a point in my recovery where I could talk back to the shame and have
fun at the pool.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was crying about the
fact that our society allows people to shame each other and ourselves into
hating our bodies. I was crying in grief about all of the fun I have missed out
on <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">in the past </i>while feeling too
embarrassed and deeply ashamed to take part. </span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">And I then I began to cry in happy gratitude for the two
beautiful girls who helped me understand things differently.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Although I was able to ignore societal messages and fight
shaming myself or other people – I had not yet come to a place where this came
easily, it was a fight every time. I still had not found beauty where I had
once found shame. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">After having this conversation with Megan and Emma and spending
time talking about it, I began to look at women at the pool in a whole new
light. I saw them through the eyes of the children they had with them: the
people around them who loved their souls and were not at all concerned about
the bodies that came with it. The body the kids saw was safety and love and
care and fun and warmth and joy and BEAUTIFUL just like my body (and I, myself)
was to these girls. </span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I started listening for and remembering positive words
people who I knew loved my soul used about my body after that, not just kids:
but my mom, my sister, my boyfriend, my friends and strangers. I heard comfort.
I heard soft. I heard warm. I heard beautiful. I heard sexy. I heard fun. I
heard pretty. </span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I have let those messages drown the old recordings I had
from past encounters, the horrible things I told myself and messages I still
get daily from the media. And now my negative judgment about my body is gone, as
is my judgment about bodies of other people. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> Everything is a lot more fun and a whole lot easier without
all of the shame and judgment that the eating disorder placed on top of it. And
by everything I mean shopping for clothes, walking down the street, dating,
having sex, eating dinner, meeting new people, looking in the mirror, watching
tv….. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">everything</i>.</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">By the way, I did not wear my swimsuit when I officiated the
wedding.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But had I worn it, I would have
felt like the most beautiful woman in the room – and no one could have
convinced me otherwise, except maybe the bride.</span><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Cami Applequisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16641522550354697714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3170594914801159971.post-33026354870089499132014-09-04T17:31:00.000-05:002014-09-04T17:33:32.613-05:00Poodle at 'To the Nines' Book Launch Celebration!<div style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<i><b>Almanac Author Readings · Art Exhibit Opening · Live Music from Local Bands · Local Food and Drink · Storymobile · <u>and the Poodle</u></b></i><br />
Thursday, September 11th — 7:00 p.m. — 308 Prince Street, Saint Paul, MN <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6Z21ERMTdEGBLVLz89ZAmi0rCd9iFHgcplruSvhDm7BlDOx2Hq42BU6oM-zc82IfKyiOEv3nPLMMav9C9-jq4_lF1JLx1dqGPvM0bUj7sKy8H6Z4n9smPUYQitfxZiWn71V1INB4s0TM/s1600/photo_1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6Z21ERMTdEGBLVLz89ZAmi0rCd9iFHgcplruSvhDm7BlDOx2Hq42BU6oM-zc82IfKyiOEv3nPLMMav9C9-jq4_lF1JLx1dqGPvM0bUj7sKy8H6Z4n9smPUYQitfxZiWn71V1INB4s0TM/s1600/photo_1.JPG" height="227" width="640" /></a></div>
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The <a href="http://saintpaulalmanac.org/" target="_blank">Saint Paul Almanac</a> gave away past editions of the almanacs to artists and said be inspired by something in the book and create art using the book. I searched to book for an image of a chicken but found not one single chicken! So I ended up making the poodle you see above with Shanti the neighbordog because I found this fabulous pooch:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRr-3idy_9ipa5cItcvGYJcXlbE56zy_uyDNKYN-hp_jGOmqItTHNIZy7bTwJO2-aS5IbhJ58jmX5w2A15lwT1jkM6DwTrOFRBqPnZOD6_dikPKoNJzEeqJGz8JZeJSLaQvw7hoYbP_tQ/s1600/littlepoodle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRr-3idy_9ipa5cItcvGYJcXlbE56zy_uyDNKYN-hp_jGOmqItTHNIZy7bTwJO2-aS5IbhJ58jmX5w2A15lwT1jkM6DwTrOFRBqPnZOD6_dikPKoNJzEeqJGz8JZeJSLaQvw7hoYbP_tQ/s1600/littlepoodle.jpg" height="200" width="136" /></a></div>
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You can come see the poodle and the photo which inspired it (not the original, but a copy from the book which is part of the poodle!) at the AZ Gallery in Lowertown through the month of September and it is part of the party on September 11th! </div>
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Cami Applequisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16641522550354697714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3170594914801159971.post-23742930490832288552014-08-26T14:09:00.000-05:002014-08-26T14:09:58.170-05:00A Very Important List - An Emily Program PostI have a second post up on the Emily Program's blog today. I thought I wrote it in response to the suicide of Robin Williams, but it is actually in response to the <em>thousands</em> of suicides that happen every year. It blows my mind that suicide takes the lives of over <a href="http://www.save.org/index.cfm?fuseaction=home.viewPage&page_id=705D5DF4-055B-F1EC-3F66462866FCB4E6" target="_blank">30,000 Americans</a> (<a href="http://www.save.org/">www.save.org</a>) every year and people are still uncomfortable talking about it and the disease which so often is its cause: depression.<br />
<br />
My hope is that we can eventually break down the shame that surrounds all mental illness so that those of us who struggle can freely speak of our pain and seek treatment without fear of judgment.<br />
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Here is the link to the Emily Program site with my post, <a href="http://www.emilyprogram.com/blog/a-very-important-list/" target="_blank">A Very Important List</a>, if you'd like to read it there with a link to my previous post and find posts by other people in recovery.<br />
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Or here it is right here:<br />
<br />
<u>A Very Important List</u><br />
<br />
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
I struggled with an eating disorder and
depression for several years of my life. Over the past few years I have been
living a life free from both.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am very
grateful for every person who stepped in to give me a hand along the way and
for every single thing I picked up that helped me realize that this life of
happiness is possible.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Early on in treatment for my eating disorder and
depression I learned that keeping one important list was vital to my ability to
recover – even survive. <o:p></o:p></div>
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It was a list of names and phone numbers. I had it
everywhere: in my pocket, my wallet, the kitchen drawer, my glove box. It
included numbers for my doctors, my therapists and emergency contacts for
moments when I felt in crisis. My parents kept the same list nearby at all
times as well.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The list also included numbers for friends and family.
I was lucky to have several people living nearby with whom I had openly shared
my struggles and who had offered to help in any way they could. They were
people I had asked to be on this phone list of support people. For me, this support
often meant sitting silently with me while I cried, listening to me ramble about
what may have sounded like nonsense to them on the other end of the phone or
coming over and help me decide whether or not it was okay to eat dessert.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Early on, however, it was more than just support. When
I was in the darkest depths of depression, it was the people on the list that
perhaps kept me alive.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
Depression took me to a place that is nearly
impossible to describe, almost impossible to fully recall now that I am
recovered. It was dark and murky. I was slow and my thoughts moved through my
mind slowly as if molasses had been poured into the top of my head, yet at
times my brain seemed to make split decisions for me that came like lightning
bolts. These decisions were often based on the saddest and most terrifying
moments of my life, even if at that given moment everything was peaceful with
the sun shining and our Maltese dog sleeping quietly on my lap.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I can easily see how a suicidal thought can become
reality to someone with depression.<o:p></o:p></div>
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My doctors and therapists asked me at each appointment
if I had suicidal thoughts. Thoughts of death came and went for me, and
although I never specifically thought about causing my own death, we knew it
wasn’t okay for me to be alone since I usually answered that <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I didn’t care if I was alive</i>. We all
knew, that based on this and the chemical make-up of my brain at the time, this
ilness could be terminal for me.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I needed my list to stay alive.<o:p></o:p></div>
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At the time, I was in my last year of college and
lived with my parents. I was in a mental health day treatment program for
depression so I had care during the day. In the evenings my parents were
available to keep me company, but it was exhausting for them. It was draining
work to sit with me every night of the week.<o:p></o:p></div>
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They used the list. Very dear friends would come and
sit at our house just to make sure I kept breathing while my parents left to
take a break. I wasn’t entertaining or fun. The most I did was sit there
silently, or sleep, or talk about feeling miserable. But still they came and
probably saved my life.<o:p></o:p></div>
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They knew they were called simply to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">be there,</i> knowing there was nothing they
could do to fix me, nothing they could do to make it better. They just came and
sat and listened, ready to take me to the hospital or call 911 if it seemed as
though I was turning toward a panic attack or suicide.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I’m guessing they were uncertain, concerned and sad
for me, as well as bored silly, but still they came and sat patiently with me,
as did my family, until the day my treatments began to work and my depression
lifted. <o:p></o:p></div>
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The medications and talk therapy brought me back to a
place where I could function normally once again. Meanwhile, it was the list of
friends and family that kept me safe. As I moved forward from that severe episode
of depression I faced other minor episodes on and off. My medications changed
and I continued therapy to keep on top of the illness. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Throughout the years I have been in support groups and
met several wonderful women who are now the top names on my list. It was the
continual treatment and the growth of support that kept me healthy and here
today recovered and certain that neither and eating disorder nor depression
will ever beat me.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Today I still use my list. Even though I am not in
crisis and have not been depressed for several years, I still feel like it
saves my life because it keeps me recovered. I know which people are people I
can call on in moments when I need someone t<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">o
just be there – for me.</i> I have learned that it is okay to ask for that when
I need it and I call. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I am also aware that depression is a medical condition
and that it can pop up at any time so I need to be prepared with the best tools
I have to fight it if it returns: I always have my list. I also make sure
people have my name on theirs and that I make time for them when they call. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;">
If you can’t reach a friend or family member and are
in crisis </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;">
please call 911 or reach out for help at these crisis lines: <span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">1-888-511-SAVE (7283) or 1-800-273-TALK
(8255).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</div>
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
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</o:p><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
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Cami Applequisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16641522550354697714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3170594914801159971.post-22232543122312637402014-08-04T15:05:00.000-05:002014-08-04T15:05:09.469-05:00WHERE TO FIND ME NOW<br />
I have added a new WHERE TO FIND ME! over there on the right.<br />
Here is why:<br />
<br />
I have always been an artist and a writer. For much of my life I didn't know how important these things were to me. I didn't grow up in a community where the arts played an important role or mattered much to anyone. My immediate family and most of my extended family, with the exception of one aunt, didn't put much emphasis on the arts so I never nourished those parts of myself as much as was necessary for me to recognize myself as an artist early on in life. In fact, I flat out ignored those aspects of myself for a very long time.<br />
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I was forced to pay attention to that part of me, however, when I was faced with illness. I was diagnosed with clinical depression during college and while in treatment for that realized that a major part of who I was had been missing from <strong><em>who I was</em></strong> and in order for me to heal I needed to take care of that. I found great amounts of peace and joy in art therapy and found myself creating things that people appreciated beyond their ability to help with my own healing process. I continued to make art and have now made it my life. As my treatment continued I also realized that my relationship with food was very disordered and continued treatment at <a href="http://www.emilyprogram.com/" target="_blank">The Emily Program</a> which is a national eating disorder treatment center headquartered in the Twin Cities and am fully recovered from both depression and my eating disorder.<br />
<br />
I tell this story as an introduction to a series of blog posts I will be writing for <a href="http://www.emilyprogram.com/blog" target="_blank">The Emily Program's Blog</a>. As a recovered client, I have been asked to contribute to their blog for a few months to tell my story. Without help from places like <a href="http://www.emilyprogram.com/" target="_blank">The Emily Program</a> I would not be making art, I would not be fully myself and I know many others who share my story. Please take a moment to learn about them and their program. Tuck them away in your pocket because chances are you will have opportunity to pass their information along to someone you care about someday - and that person will be very grateful.<br />
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Cami Applequisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16641522550354697714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3170594914801159971.post-65800904434840181572014-07-31T23:49:00.002-05:002014-07-31T23:49:44.556-05:00...and we have a chicken!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Ladies and Gentlemen (and everyone in between and beyond or outside...), <br />
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WE HAVE A CHICKEN! Actually the chicken arrived at the mini-golf course a few weeks ago but I haven't had a chance to get over there and get a close up view of her yet. The day I was there to take this picture was the same weekend as <em>Rock the Garden</em> so everything was fenced off and the golf course was closed. I was disappointed but happened to be there right during Dessa's sound check so it was almost as if the chicken and I were getting a private show. Can't complain about that!<br />
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Please go to the Walker and enjoy "Guess What? Chicken Putt!" now that the hole has been completed. Brian and I are still able to take guests so call us if you want to play but are as broke as we are! <br />
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Yay! There's a chicken at the Walker! Go see the chicken!Cami Applequisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16641522550354697714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3170594914801159971.post-78458212273976405882014-07-31T23:31:00.001-05:002014-07-31T23:31:57.368-05:00Best Job in the World<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I can't begin to explain how excited I am to be spending my summer making art with kids all over the Twin Cities. There really are no words, so I am posting images! Above you see a bike made at the at the Southside Sprint bike race. And that is our talented volunteer Derek resting after decorating the entire intersection with his own design!</div>
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The airplane below is a work of art from a gourd art workshop at the Dakota County Library in Apple Valley I led through Art Scraps yesterday. Is there anything more awesome? </div>
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My neighbor, Tara, and I are hard at work preparing to make an arts program for kids our full time permanent job and I do believe I will be the happiest person in the world from here on out!</div>
<br />Cami Applequisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16641522550354697714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3170594914801159971.post-83069326921569722272014-07-31T23:11:00.000-05:002014-07-31T23:11:43.336-05:00Hi.<div style="text-align: center;">
Hi.</div>
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A bright young man named Bennett, his sister, Marin, and I said hi to </div>
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various people and their dogs we saw at the park this morning.</div>
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We decided to make the letters that make the word hi</div>
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so other people might see them after we left.</div>
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We hoped people in the park would have a happy day.</div>
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I hope you have a happy day too.</div>
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Cami Applequisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16641522550354697714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3170594914801159971.post-34150495983811251062014-06-01T17:50:00.001-05:002014-06-01T17:50:27.911-05:00Guess What? There's No Chicken Yet!<div style="text-align: left;">
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A couple of weeks ago, Brian Fewell (that's him squinting into the sun with me and the fox there to the left) and I got to go to the Walker Art Center and see the mini-golf hole we designed brought to life. "Guess What? Chicken Putt!" was finally up and running and we were going to get to play it and publicize it with real live TV crews and newspaper people and be real live official recognized ARTISTS for the afternoon. But what we mostly cared about was seeing the chicken. All the way there we were squealing about getting to see the chicken sitting there in the sun, <br />
larger that life, waiting for golf balls to come flying at her.... We parked the car and scurried across the course to our hole and could not find a chicken. We held back our tears and screams of disappointment and managed to make it through the media interviews without breaking down, but did follow up with the Walker team the next day. We have been told that there was a misstep and that a chicken is on her way to the hole. As soon as I have word that she has arrived, I will invite the world to go meet her there - meanwhile you can go play the hole and imagine, as we did with the media and the opening night guests, all of the possibilities for her absence: fear of the fox, eaten by the fox, fear of the media, fear of the public, dislike of golf, dislike of art, not an urban chicken......<br />
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When they do get her to the hole she should be sitting on the upper section on the end farthest from the tee off square. (That there is Nicole Johns attempting a hole in one!)<br />
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<br />Cami Applequisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16641522550354697714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3170594914801159971.post-57414717575662630252014-05-13T22:48:00.000-05:002014-05-13T23:07:01.605-05:00Grampa was the best medicine!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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These are drawings my grandfather made in his eighties. He never called himself an artist but he always drew pictures like these in birthday and Christmas cards that he sent. I loved them so much my aunt had him produce a small collection for me before he died. So I will call him an artist. He was a very humorous man. A very happy man. A man who brought authentic joy into rooms wherever he went. He was awarded employee of the year at the nursing home where he worked as a janitor into his eighties and was written up in the local paper for providing who he called "the old people" with the best medicine there was:<i> laughter</i>. I have no doubt that his smile and his joy helped people where he worked manage to survive another day, helped them to believe that life was good when maybe they couldn't feel it anywhere else. He wasn't conscious of this. He was just doing his thing: running around telling jokes, flirting with the widows, dancing with the mop... because that is who he was. He didn't know his drawings would bring me up out of blue moods. He never had any idea how many times I would pull them out, and still do, just to look at them and smile. He was just doing his thing. <br />
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Sometimes when I wonder where a piece of art I have created has come from, I hear his laugh and I realize that there are bits of him in each and every thing I make. When I hear people laugh at something funny I have created or wonder out loud "<i>where the hell did she come up with THAT</i>?" I know Grampa Percy is in the answer somewhere.<br />
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<br />Cami Applequisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16641522550354697714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3170594914801159971.post-69385032709352713462014-04-29T10:41:00.000-05:002014-04-30T08:37:04.245-05:00COMING UP NEXT!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnHn1DSliWud7ZrqL1X5bFcGMf1fNAcsK5VZQ7HxMELa88lX8w7Dk9W5wY9aA-yOS8FhgwnF1fN7oaHHxCJss-9Q_DHXjJNk90sMuNdui_LoV8HWBnvMfmR2nCDkJvfsRskdXoZ8XABog/s1600/2014-collageltym.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnHn1DSliWud7ZrqL1X5bFcGMf1fNAcsK5VZQ7HxMELa88lX8w7Dk9W5wY9aA-yOS8FhgwnF1fN7oaHHxCJss-9Q_DHXjJNk90sMuNdui_LoV8HWBnvMfmR2nCDkJvfsRskdXoZ8XABog/s1600/2014-collageltym.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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On May 8th everyone is invited to witness the women above share stories of motherhood - beautiful, wonderful, real stories of motherhood that will leave you forever changed. There are no words for the powerful force that comes from the joining of story in this way.<br />
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Our first read-through took my breath away.... talking about the second rehearsal gives me goosebumps every time.... Here's what Shaun (bottom right) said about the first read through in her <a href="http://whatrealworld.com/2014/04/07/listen-to-these-mothers/" target="_blank">blog</a>: "it made me want to go to the grocery store or the mall and
just look at the women there, mothers or daughters or both, and simply
recall that each of them has a story—many stories—that I will probably
never hear."<br />
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Come if you can! (PS That's me with the glasses and the chickens!)<br />
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<br />Cami Applequisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16641522550354697714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3170594914801159971.post-22137600482409536712014-04-24T10:07:00.000-05:002014-04-24T10:07:02.214-05:00You don't see this on the Pinterest lists.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Household Hints: from <i>Woman's Favorite Cook Book</i> published in 1902</div>
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#1 HOW TO ESCAPE FROM A BURNING HOUSE.</div>
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And then since you are not dead you can go ahead remove the putty from old windows and follow that up by cleaning the lamp chimneys.</div>
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<br />Cami Applequisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16641522550354697714noreply@blogger.com0