_havenwood _havenwood

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Jaimee Ulmer  Mixed media artist. Writer & poet. Weirdo. Boy Mom x3...tattoo collector, moon lover, potty mouth. Woman reinvented, making the chaos countπŸ”₯❀✨

Sunday words, by @butterfliesandpebbles ... because yes YES to this - so vast, wide open and wild. 'The Landscape of You'... been there all along, little dove. Go explore ❀

More pages from this week - "this unblushing subterfuge... vision hung from the ceiling"... "Didn't you ever hear any of them speak a word?"
#havenwoodartjournal #getweirder #yearofcreativehabits

For summer '17 - strappy, stripey, vintage blooms and SWANS 😍.

Friday words, via @gatheringnectar... for the mermaid souls, getting to know your own depths is wild and wondrous indeed 🌊❀.

#thursday3 w/@rukristin... 1) My kids had one day off and then two half days for conferences, and I've gotten nothing done with this weird schedule. 2) It's gorgeous outside, but I have zero energy because running+weights+allergy head. I just want to be a cat today, moody-emotional and left alone in a sunny armchair. 3) pizza and wine, stat

More February pages. I especially love how that page on the left turned out - coral and metallic gold with a vintage circus rider 😍 #havenwoodartjournal #yearofcreativehabits

Wednesday words by @nicolelyonspoetry... Break. Through. Push up against your edges till they give way, rise up through the surface of your own ceiling...but you have to loosen your grip to find flow. It's a soft strength that reaches beauty ❀

Satisfying... combos of abstract gelli print backgrounds w/collage images and/or vintage book phrase poetry πŸ‘Œ
#havenwoodartjournal #yearofcreativehabits

I'm on my own new frontier, never before explored. I had lots of health problems as a teenager... cardiac issues and a full back brace for two solid years. I couldn't bend or twist in that wretched cage of plastic and metal around my entire torso, and lived under a cloud of anxiety that my heart would burst if it pumped too hard. As a result, I wasn't ever athletic. I pulled out of ballet and retreated to isolated angst. I was underweight and frequently sick and hid from life. We didn't think I could have children, or that I should, with genetic issues on the table... but I was able to, and miraculously, I had three babies in four years. THEY were my activity - double shopping carts plus on one my back, nursing a newborn with one arm while potty-training a toddler, meals and triple baths akin to Olympic games... This. This is altogether different. I've never committed to any exercise practice aside from a few weeks here and there that piddle out, but I'm on week five of running, and added lifting weights. Half the time I don't want to get on that treadmill, but I do it anyway. I'm gaining muscle weight. My legs look different to me. I have stamina to push hard and sweat lots. My heart thunders like hooves in my chest, and my muscles burn, and most of the time I run I end up crying, because little bits of trauma are breaking loose... and I keep doing it. It's new and kind of surprising and goddamn liberating. That is all. ❀

Tuesday words by @victoriaericksonwriter via @womenwhorunwiththemoon... "breaking old beliefs and grasping your bliss," you're still standing, brilliantly beautiful πŸ‘ŒπŸ”₯✨❀

Lost days for ripping carpet out of the studio, so I've got some ground to catch up in my 365 project. Blank pages + a mug full of random text = 😊

Sore today, but happy with this latest addition... I had not really intended to get ink on my other arm. This Frida was supposed to fill in blank space on my left (in-progress) sleeve, but she wouldn't fit in the spot... so I went for it. I mean, what else are ya gonna do πŸ˜‚?! In a turn of absolute delightful serendipity, a mole on my arm ended up in *perfect* placement on the right side of Frida's mouth, like she was meant to be there all along ❀