Welcome to Somehwhere Over the Rainbow---the BLOG! Here you'll stay updated on new items, old items, DIY tutorials.....and MORE!

My shop is a mix of custom, personal creations from wood, paper, glass, ribbon and love. I strive to create---and encompass---that sacred connection between remembrance and hope in each item through the support of those effected by pregnancy and infant loss. Proceeds from remembrance items are used to gift such items to other families on similar grief journeys. I lost my beautiful daughter Hannah to stillbirth and these things are done in her honor. So thank you for stopping by and for your support.

Wednesday, July 4, 2012

I guess....

I guess I'll have to set up shop for my thoughts somewhere else because they are just so overwhelming and who really wants to hear all about the girl who made her baby's blocks, right? So last blubbering post I promise until I can sit at the computer and give these thoughts a home.

Life's path for me has been a twisted bumpy trail. It's lead me through some beautiful and horrifying landscapes. Some I wish I could freeze in time. Others I wish I could have taken some alternate route. I know in my heart each and every one was necessary.

I had a nice day today. My mind is buried deep in thought most of the time and it's nice to grab the shovel and dig up some of the bones in that emotional graveyard. I've died in many ways. I've come alive in so many others.

I told you change would come. Change IS coming. The decisions are feeling right and effortless and falling right into place. Hmmmm. It makes me wonder. Sometimes it is very difficult to find your own heart and your own voice in the midst of all the others. Plans look good on paper but you cannot attached emotion to a notebook and carry it through life.

I'm taking thoughts and storing them in my pockets. I'm taking hurts and keeping them curled in my fists, trying to find the right way to release them. Can you throw them to the wind or do they boomerang back to you? Can you just drop them and hope their trail doesn't once again find its way into you heart and life? Do you keep them there, clenched there, and let them destroy your soul? I don't have the answers, but I'm looking.

I'm reflecting on my own actions. On my needs. On my beliefs. On what I think is real and what I think it not. I'm grabbing the rope they call hope to climb out of the hole and whispering and wishing to land on my feet---in the right place. That's the key. Finding where we truly belong in life. Who we truly belong with. Who truly loves us for who we are. Who truly knows us, good and bad, and still wants to walk through life by our side. Love without exception.

I'm excited to walk down this path. I'm emotional about it. I'm sure I'll trip a few times. I'm sure I'll go off track but pray for guidance. I know in my heart I will make it to the right place. I know in my heart that some things are just meant to be and you have to have the courage, the faith and the trust to believe in it---no matter how hard.

Monday, July 2, 2012


So I know I've failed miserably at the how-to's and the latest products. I've failed miserably at keeping you all up to date on the shop and it's happenings. Truth is---it's wonderful. It's got a steady flow of traffic and each order leaves with a piece of my heart put into it. But there's more. There's so much more I need to put out there that has no home, no place. Kind of like I feel these days.

Illusions are dominating my mindset these days. Or are they delusions? Illusions being how I wish, delusions how they are. There are straws that I've grasped at only to watch them be taken away. Were they given in truth? Were they given with the belief of what I wanted to hear.

I just don't know.

I want to be in love. I want to be in the kind of love that never leaves you with questions. Again that question remains.

Illusion or Delusion?

Sunday, July 1, 2012

Broken Yet Still Beautiful

This morning found us by the bay. Sunblock, crab traps, fishing poles and the giggles of excited children awaiting the arrival of some new sea friends. My mind has been so full that releasing it into the breeze and feeling the full summer sun on my face felt good. Real good. I look at my feet and notice the sparklings of green, brown and opague white sprinkled all along the shore. My mind drifts off with the current as I imagine the stories each piece of broken glass holds. Did they come with messages of hope from some far off love? Did she recieve it with love or riddance? Were they lost without hope of ever being recovered? Were they broken instantly or had it been a gradual destruction through time?

Life has been different for me lately. It has sharp points, it has ones that have dulled. It's in a sort of stand still, all the while spinning. A turning point. A crossroads. I find a strange kinship with the inatimate shards of beaten glass. I feel weathered and broken, too. I feel sharply those pieces that are missing. I know some will never be recovered. I wonder if other pieces will. So, yes, I'm broken. I'm lost. I've been tossed, turned and taken out to sea. Beaten and battered by waves of change, some wanted, some not. The storms have been unkind yet necessary to my outcome in so many different ways. The undertoe has taken me. I've held my breath and I've landed on many different shores. Some happy. Some full of devastation and despair. Each shore has taught me something in life. Good things and bad things. I've left pieces of me all over. These pieces of glass held glistening in my hand have left pieces of their original all over the place. I wonder where each piece belongs. How far has it traveled? Does it belong where it was left? Had it been battered enough or was there more to come? I wonder if all the pieces were found, would the vessel return to its original form? Would I? I don't believe that to be true at all. The scrapes and workings of the sea and of life would never allow them to be whole again. The pieces would never again fit together as perfectly as they once had. Would never allow myself to be whole again. The tides have changed us forever in all their workings. I thought on that for a while and for the first time in a long time I felt inspired.

Broken things CAN be beautiful. They can.

The glass can, you can, even I can. Stay tuned for a whole new line of beautifully broken treasures and truths---both in my shop and in my life.