Papaya Art

I've been obsessed with Papaya Art since I first saw their makeup bags a few months ago. The artwork and design are just beautiful! I recently learned that this Oregon based family business has been around since 2003, and started out as just 20 greeting cards before growing to hundreds of fine lifestyle and stationary offerings! I want them all.

If you're local, you're lucky because Got Beauty in sugarhouse carries some of their stuff! Remember my Hello Honey Bunny post a few weeks ago? Papaya Art. And look at this bag. Perfect to pack your makeup in when traveling, or to use as a purse. I love these unique little pieces of art.

Head to sugarhouse when you're out Christmas shopping this month and pick up an item or two!

Oh, and prices? This one is only $29. Get real.

~DM

And our baby's name is…!

I'm often amazed by the talented and generous people who have come into my life from my endeavors over the years. A year ago I met an incredible artist, Geri Cordova. When she heard I was pregnant she wanted to do something for our baby. We began messaging and I told her all of the things my husband Matt was into, his favorite colors, and what we were naming our son.

Today she sent me pictures of the finished product. I can't tell you how deeply touched I am by her work. These are absolutely magical. And seeing his name like that…speechless.

We've had our names picked out for a couple of years now. Our boy name, and our girl name. It was actually Matt's idea. I'll never forget how I felt when he suggested Charles for a boy.

If you've followed me here, you know how life changing the death of my uncle was in spring of 2012. It was the beginning of an awakening, transformation, and life overhaul for me. Named after Charles Bowden who was known as Chuck, I can't wait to meet our Charles Rex Wride in March, who will be known as Charlie.

Thank you, Geri! Charlie is already SO lucky!

If you're not familiar with her work, she is a full time artist! Her work is on walls of businesses and homes all around town, and her signature painted shoes. Give her a call and get her creativity in your life!

*Charlie's middle name Rex is after Matt's late Grandpa!

~ Deena Marie

Goodbye.

Ever since my uncle Chuck left this earth, I've thought a lot about goodbyes.  I often think about what an end means.  Temporary or permanent.  I think about ends that we know are coming, and ends that are abrupt.  If you've followed me here then you know "Life of Pi" is something I reference often.  You might be sick of it, but it's always playing in me.  Still teaching me.

“What a terrible thing it is to botch a farewell. I am a person who believes in form, in the harmony of order. Where we can, we must give things a meaningful shape. For example - I wonder - could you tell my jumbled story in exactly one hundred chapters, not one more, not one less? I'll tell you, that's one thing I have about my nickname, the way the number runs on forever. It's important in life to conclude things properly. Only then can you let go. Otherwise you are left with words you should have said but never did, and your heart is heavy with remorse. That bungled goodbye hurts me to this day. I wish so much that I'd had one last look at him in the lifeboat, that I'd provoked him a little, so that I was on his mind. I wish I had said to him then - yes, I know, to a tiger, but still - I wish I had said, "Richard Parker, it's over. We have survived. Can you believe it? I owe you more gratitude than I can express I couldn't have done it without you. I would like to say it formally: Richard Parker, thank you. Thank you for saving my life. And now go where you must. You have known the confined freedom of a zoo most of your life; now you will know the free confinement of a jungle. I wish you all the best with it. Watch out for Man. He is not your friend. But I hope you will remember me as a friend. I will never forget you , that is certain. You will always be with me, in my heart. What is that hiss? Ah, our boat has touched sand. So farewell, Richard Parker, farewell. God be with you.”

I want closure with things.  With experiences.  With people.  But not just closure, a beautiful closure.  I want to give everything in my life a meaningful shape.  

I've been thinking about something for days.  I am so full of emotion over it.  "Former love surprises artist at her MoMa retrospective after decades apart."   While the video portion is quite something to see (the way he shakes his head is everything) there is something in the very brief explanation that's stuck with me: "When their relationship had come to an end, they went to the Great Wall of China to walk it together.  Both started walking from the opposite end until they met in the middle for one last big hug before disappearing from each other's lives." My visceral reaction to that is so intense, I can't think about it without wanting to sob.  Without feeling a heaviness that threatens to take me over.  Could you imagine? Could you even imagine?!

I want this.  I want it with everyone who's ever been in my life that isn't any more.  Friends, former lovers, Chuck, my Grandpa.  

To all of those who's souls are no longer in line with mine, but once were, I want that walk with you.  I want to reflect as I walk, and gain sacred clarity.  How private.  How intense.  I want to take the time, moving forward in my thoughts and in time until we meet and all that is unsaid is only felt, and exchanged through that embrace.  Oh, it must be long.  And when the end (though I can't imagine how you know it's time) reveals itself and it's time to let go, you both continue with forward momentum and a heartbreakingly beautiful goodbye.  A meaningful shape.  

I want it.  Every time.  

You from my past, you from my future.  

I want to meet you all there.  

10 Things I want to know about Deena Marie

Today I asked for blog ideas.  10 questions were submitted.  Here you go:

1.) Why in the world would a talented equity actress make SLC her home?
I took my equity card at the end of 2007.  My goal was to become equity, and to work.  I have managed to do at least two shows a year ever since.  I have gotten great roles.  I have crossed many of my personal dream roles and acting challenges off my bucket list.  I am able to work at the theatres I want to work at.  I work at the theatres that I prefer to see shows at when I want to go to the theatre.  For me, I prefer quality over quantity.  Before I took my card I put in my time with school shows, community theatre, and then shows in what might be called semi-professional theatres for a stipend, for no pay, or for one sum at the very end of the run.  Sustaining that kind of life and work was not what I ever intended for myself.  I have no desire to go back to that.  I am able to be known here and have put in a lot of time building a name, image, and reputation for myself.  If I never got cast, if having a card was a problem for me here, if I wasn't getting the roles I was desiring, well then I'm sure it would be a different story.  But I feel blessed to be here, to be doing the work I want to be doing . Just in a years time I had a great leading role in a Shakespearean production, got to co-create and bring my own writing and ideas to an original show, and now I'm embarking on a one woman play.  I am so grateful.  I can't complain.  I don't believe there is only one place or city to work.  I don't believe NYC is the only place.  I've been there, done that.  I trained there.  I've been back to train since graduating.  I've worked there.  I've lived there.  I'm so glad I did.  I'm so glad it's over.  I prefer life here. 

2.) What makes a home?
Not the walls.  Not the things.  Not the furniture.  Not the objects.  Not the size.  A home to me has everything to do with the people in it, or not.  And the place.  And I mean the place as far as wherever it is you feel "okay".  Wherever you internally feel best.

3.) How is 2013 Deena different than 2012 Deena?
In 2012 I died.  I was reduced to the barest of bones and the darkest of hours.  I experienced and survived more losses than I ever could have dreamed possible.  For the first time, I knew what it felt like to want to leave earth.  Somehow, I came back.  I amazed myself at my ability to recover.  I was bigger than before.  I became in touch with my spiritual path on a deeper level.  Now I am open.  I am far more in tune with my truth.  I am braver than ever.  I'm not afraid to make bold moves and change my life.  I embrace change.  I rely on it, the fact that nothing can last.  Not one thing.  I am better at living in the moment because I know understand that the past and future do not exist.  I no longer live where I lived before.  Literally.  I am no longer with the person I was with before.  I have a new love in my life.  My shaved head has grown back.  My hair is red again.  I am learning to let myself be happy.  To tell myself it's okay.  To let myself experience it, entire.  My life is full of new people, too.  Things are exciting again.  I'm no longer existing, but I'm now living.  I'm learning the power of gratitude.  I'm learning I'm never done learning.  We're all a work in progress and always will be.  I have a new sense that I can trust the universe.  That I belong, that you belong, that we are here at the perfect time in the perfect vessel, perfectly matched and part of a grand design we can't begin to imagine. 

4.) 2008
2008 Deena had long, dyed black hair.  Was making a name for herself in local theatre and all over the place from the YouTube channel she'd just started at the end of 2007.  The press and local features started.  The press and not so local features started.  Things were exciting.  There were new opportunities everywhere I turned.  I tried them all.  They were fresh.  Nothing like the first time. 

5.) 2003
NYC was still part of my story.  So was living downtown in SLC.  So was the wrong boy, although nothing is wrong because everything is a lesson.  I was a baby.  Oh, what a journey there was in store for me!

6.) What would Deena like for 2014?
I have plans.  I can't tell you.  Planning is tricky.  You can have an idea, you can have the intentions but you have to be flexible.  Adaptable.  I know what I'd like, we'll see what 2014 would like for me. 

7.) 2018
I've never been someone who can predict this far out.  I don't even know what's going to happen tomorrow.  It doesn't exist yet.  I can't know the answer to this. 

8.) 2023
No way. 

9.) You once mentioned going back to school, how's that coming?
I decided not to go.  It wasn't right.  My life is all at once or nothing at all, but the right things seem to come to me to guide me where I'm supposed to go next.  The Ford Fiesta Movement came to me right when I thought I might be going to school.  There I was, at an orientation and hardly able to sit still because I needed to go home to pack and prep to be in LA interviewing the American Idol contestants the next day.  As the hours went by my sense that this wasn't the fit for me grew stronger.  I've always been good at recognizing that feeling.  The sense of something being a yes or a no for me.  I didn't see it happening.  It was feeling forced.  I knew this wasn't for me.  I felt like a square peg trying to force myself into a round hole.  I later realized that wanting to go to school right then wasn't truly what I wanted as much as I needed to fill a void.  Something was unsettled.  Unsatisfied.  I needed something else, something new.  I needed to change something.  That all became clear and worked out this year starting in the spring and taking me through this summer.  I know what it was all about.  All I'll say though in regards to school and if I see it in the future is no, I don't.  I know to never say never, but I don't see it happening.  And it doesn't feel like my truth or heart of hearts now. 

10.) If at some point in your life you had been wise enough to put together a time capsule, and you opened it today, what would you hope to find?
I don't feel old enough to be opening a time capsule filled with treasures.  If I live to be an old woman, ask me then.  Right now youth and childhood don't seem far enough away.  I still have access to very vivid and what feels like recent memories of objects.  And I still own the things that would possibly go into the capsule.  My parents have many in their storage unit.  My precious childhood stuffed animals live there.  So do a pair of pink doc martens from high school.  I have my Nintendo systems from the 80's and the 90's.  So...my time capsule is still too fresh to be amazed and surprised by, if that makes sense. 


Thanks for reading,

Deena Marie

7:04

At 7:04 on March 27th, Mars sent down his child to occupy earth.
Spun into solid in the form of daughter she would temporarily belong
to one Lauren and Claude.
Bursting into being, she took her first breath between screams
louder than the average baby.
This 8 lb 8 ounce space traveling freedom fighter had not one moment to spare.

What she knew instantly, was that her bones were made of poetry
and her soul of the fire from her home planet.
She was also old.  This she knew best.  She was weary and worn.
The journey had been long.

She saw children as children and recognized herself only as the wise sage
who had just been sent back, now housed inside this tiny five year old body.
As for the scar on her cheek, she wondered how it would look as she grew.
It faded and vanished and as she got older, and her old age faded too.

She began to adapt and blend into humanity and forget
that in the beginning she knew all.
Nearly forgotten were the endless summer evenings outside
wondering why she was so old and how everything was so clear,
and the way it felt as the end of the last was reconciling itself with the start of the new.

Decades passed and her youth caught up to her
with a tap on the shoulder and a seep into her skin.
She would now temporarily belong.

Her way would be lost, but she would always find it a year or two later in the same orbit
when the time was right, for nothing had ever really gone away at all.

It had only moved.
Out of reach.
For a time.

She would take the form of wife.  And in the future she knew, mother.
And along the way, the alchemy inside the vessel would match
the movement of the cosmos
and whisper with her soul to follow the omens.

And this is where the story stops.
For a minute.  Because this is all we know of it.
The journey will be long.
She is weary.  
But she will continue.  Space traveling, freedom fighting child of Mars.
Because she is young now.  And getting closer each round.

There is something here to do.  It pulls her closer a little more each day.
She temporarily belongs.  And when the final round is up,
the poetry and flames can finally dismember,
streaking the sky, moving onward and upward,
and home she goes to rest.

Pieces

I came across a piece of paper with some bits of words and poetry while spring cleaning.  I wanted to hurry and put them here before I lost them for good.  I've been so busy lately with starting a new job, getting ready to go back to school, meeting with advisors, photo shoots, various other appointments, and filming for youtube.  My head is spinning! Nothing is ever spread out.  Life always feels full blast or standing still.

I'm also going to be writing more this year, and sharing it through spoken word on my youtube channel.  I'm very excited about this.  I've already put up my first.  I wanted to just do it and feel it out, with no outside influences.  Now that it's done, I'm ready to delve deep.  I've spent my day off watching some incredible online spoken word performances.  My learning has begun, and I'm off to see some locals next week.

I always have bits of poems and stories in me but I haven't had a chance to get them all out this week.  I managed the beginnings of something the other day and jotted it down before I left for work.

Here are the pieces of all of the above.  I think I'll start giving you pieces here more often.  When they come and I can catch them before they've gone.

You can translate however you like.

When you wonder how they might pertain...well...sometimes they mean nothing.

And sometimes they mean everything.


* * * * *
3.21.2013

Sometimes I am rendered immobile with worry
I will never be capable of loving anything
but the unattainable


* * * * *
2012

I feel in words.
I document as the only way I know how.
In poem.


* * * * *
Spring 2012 (probably April or early May)

So many pairs of eyes fixed upon a monitor of sorts
that none of us can read or speak or translate
to any sort of comfort or explanation
I cannot take my eyes off my mother.
I see her as she must have ben at five.
She is a child.
Right down to the ponytail she wears
at her big brothers bedside.
We wait.
One collective breath.
This room is so full.
So silent and so full.
The air is rich.
Absolutely rich with memories.
It is palpable.

* * * * * *

I want.

I want.
I want to explore places far from here and feel my size in each.
I want to feel tiny while suspended in immensity.
I want to feel limitless while on my own two feet.
I want each moment to feel different.
I want to travel for hours, enter new time zones
and see things I don't yet know exist.
I want to learn constantly of my smallness on the earth
and try in vain to understand how grand the universe is
a little more with each bit of new.

I want to leave earth.
I want to see it from the outside in
I want to break my own heart with the beauty of the beyond
Only then will I feel like I've returned to my roots,
to where I was born.
in stars,
in sky.
I want my ears to ring with the music of the spheres.

I want to feel extreme climates and every texture of the earth
I want to see color that never ends
I want to grow bigger with each bit of new
I want to forget I'm human
I want to forget what I look like, my name, all I've done
I want to dissolve into oneness
dissipate into the whole...



That's how I feel when I see pictures like this: