Artsy Mamas

Jennifer is an Artsy Mamas board member. She has offered to open her studio for future Artsy Mamas events and activities. Look out for a notice about an open house celebrating the opening of the studio and the revamping of our organization! All will be welcome. Please feel free to pass this information on to your friends and family!

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE: For more information contact Jennifer Richardson 615-339-7353

It’s Never Too Early or Too Late to Learn About Art! Golden House Studio of Murfreesboro Opens Its Doors for People of All Ages.

When one door closes…a studio opens. After her Arts Education job was eliminated from the Center for the Arts, Jennifer Richardson chose to open her own studio and continue providing art education to the citizens of Rutherford County. Her new studio, Golden House Studio, is now accepting students of all ages.

Murfreesboro, TN June 26, 2009 — In early June Jennifer Richardson was notified that her job as Art Education Coordinator at the Center for the Arts had been eliminated due to budgetary concerns. With scheduled art programs put on hold indefinitely at the Center for the Arts, Jennifer Richardson decided to step up and offer classes on her own. Her new studio, Golden House Studio, is a bright but intimate space sure to inspire many students.

Golden House Studio’s offerings are divided into two main components: Art for All classes offered to small groups of no more than eight students; and Art for One private one-on-one sessions to help individuals grow and explore their own artistic interests.

Art for All classes are offered on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays as well as some evenings and weekends as determined by the students. Students can sign up for weekly or bi-monthly classes. Current offerings include:

• ABCs of Art, a series designed to introduce preschoolers to famous works of art while playing with clay, watercolors, tempera, pastels, and more.
• Building Blocks for children ages 5-11 learning the basic foundations of art, including a deep understanding of color, pattern, texture, and storytelling through art.
• Beginning Drawing classes are available for ages 10 – adult, with groups separated by age and appropriate subject matter.
• Art Smart is an art appreciation series that will help students learn about artists, artworks, and major artistic movements.

Art for All can also be arranged for home school groups and playdates, or groups such as wedding parties, birthdays, or book clubs who want to make a special work to celebrate an event or theme.

“It was heartbreaking to leave the Center for the Arts,” says Jennifer Richardson, owner and resident artist of Golden House Studio. “I knew that there were lots of children and adults who were interested in taking lessons and did not want to let them down. The opening of Golden House Studio just seemed like a logical next step.”

Jennifer Richardson earned her B.A. in Art History from the University of Memphis and her M.A. in Art History from George Washington University in Washington, DC. While in the nation’s capital, she interned with The Smithsonian Associates creating tours for grandparent/grandchild groups, coordinating teacher training events, and scheduling in-school art education presentations. Jennifer spent several years working as a Fine Art Specialist with Sloans and Kenyon Auctioneers, where she gained valuable appraisal skills and lots of interesting stories about the world of art auctions. Since moving to her husband’s hometown of Murfreesboro, she has become an Art History Instructor at the Art Institute of Tennessee-Nashville, a board member of Artsy Mamas, and until recently the Arts Education Coordinator for the Center for the Arts, Murfreesboro.

About Golden House Studio:
Golden House Studio is a place where people of all ages can come to learn about art and improve their natural talent. Our Art for All classes are for groups of eight or less and explore various modes of artistic expression. Art for All classes can also be designed for your private group of friends, home school group, or as a playdate. Art for One lessons consist of private one-on-one instruction and are suited to your personal interests.

Contact:
Jennifer Richardson
Golden House Studio
615-339-7353
Jennifer@GoldenHouseStudio.com
http://www.GoldenHouseStudio.com

Angels performing ballet. Unbelievable, I thought. This can’t be real. I was lying on
my side wrapped around a tree like a koala bear looking straightup into the eye of
an F-4 tornado. And the debris at the top of the funnel looked just like angels
gracefully performing ballet.

How ironic. Those few seconds in the eye of the tornado may have been the
most peaceful seconds of my life. It felt transcendental and sweet.
That is, until the back wall of the tornado slammed against me, hurling two-by fours,
trees, and sheet metal at 200 miles per hour.

Here I was caught on the trail in the middle of a tornado. It was Good Friday, and
my mind was distracted. A minister for a large church in Murfreesboro, Tennessee,
a few miles south of Nashville, I was thinking about the Easter
program that had required so much preparation over the last several months.
I should have been thinking about the Resurrection itself, but I confess that, instead,
I was obsessing over the details of the upcoming service. We were hoping for 2,000
people at church, and there were so many things that could go wrong. It had been an exhausting week of preparation, and I just kept going over the program in my head.

What I needed, I decided to myself, was a good workout. I hardly paid attention to the weather reports this Good Friday. The broadcasts since last night had indicated that storms were expected to blow across Middle Tennessee around lunch time. At around 11:00 that morning a local traffic reporter had warned Nashville to eat lunch early
because of approaching storms. A tornado warning had even been issued 60 miles northwest of Nashville.

Most people knew to stay off the trails for the next several hours. I should have
known too. But I really needed to run, and somehow I convinced myself that the storms were all north of Murfreesboro.

I’ve been a runner all my life, though I rarely run competitively. I mostly run to
manage my weight, to relieve stress, and to talk to God. Last fall I had trained for a marathon, but two weeks before the event, I accidentally swallowed a fish bone
and ended up spending a week in the hospital with abdominal surgery for an acute abdominal infection. Recovery after that had been slow, and I was down from
running 35 to 40 miles per week to running 15 miles or so. I was determined to
build back up to a respectable distance.

Today was going to be a good run. In spite of the warnings, the weather felt
great: mid-60’s and overcast. My energy level was up. My motivation was high.
It was my day off, Easter was approaching, and I was eager to run off some stress. I intended to spend time in prayer, which I do in the form of an inner dialogue with
God pretty much every time I run. My prayers sometimes take the form of memorizing Scripture or merely offering thanksgiving. More frequently, however, they take the
form of character discussions with God. I talk to God about my weaknesses,
and together we develop strategies for helping me to mature. I often preach to
myself as I run, lecturing myself on the need to be stronger, more disciplined,
and more like the One I follow.

I drove to my favorite running spot, a paved greenway that meanders four and a
half miles along the Stones River in Murfreesboro, Tennessee. Stones River is a
small river, but it has a big history. It was here that one of the largest battles in the
Civil War was fought a century and a half ago. Ninety thousand soldiers slugged
it out on New Years Eve 1862 and on New Years Day 1863, as Federal troops continued their slow push towards Chattanooga, and, eventually, Atlanta, Savannah,
and the Atlantic Ocean.

A hundred yards from where I parked my car on Good Friday the battle had ended on January 2, 1863, as thousands of Confederate troops forded the frigid river and tried to climb the western bank, only to be slaughtered by Federal canon, canister,
and grapeshot. Twenty-three thousand soldiers fell fighting for this river.

The modern greenway was opened in the 1990s and is a popular place for the
people of Murfreesboro. Any given day you can find people walking their dogs,
bicycling, strolling with friends, fishing, or running. When I parked my car and
began my run, it was a couple minutes after noon, and there were several others
on the trail walking. I had run six miles on the treadmill the day before, so I planned
to keep it to a gentle four miles today. I was wearing a headset, a white headband, my favorite running shorts, and a new rain jacket.

The rain jacket was important, because I had just bought it in response to a near
disaster that my buddy, Thad, and I had experienced backpacking a couple months
before. We are winter backpackers, because we don’t like heat. We had gone up into the Smoky Mountains on a four day backpacking trip back in February. It rained the
whole way up the mountain on the first day. We arrived at camp just as the darkness
came and as the temperature dropped to dangerous levels. A windstorm suddenly
blew in, and all my raingear failed. By the time Thad managed to build a fire (against all odds), I was slipping into hypothermia in the freezing temperatures. I couldn’t stop shivering, and for
ten minutes or so, I hovered as near to panic as I’ve ever been. By the next morning,
I was mad at myself for being so ill-prepared after years of winter backpacking.
I was even angrier with myself for feeling panicked.

When I got home, I decided to buy the best raingear I could afford, but I also
decided that, of all people, a minister ought not to panic, regardless of the
circumstances.

I began to talk to God about trust, and I began to read about others who had survived extreme circumstances. I looked inward and asked myself whether or not I have what it takes to manage an extreme situation. I have the kind of brain that can obsess over such matters (I get that from my dad, and I’ve passed it on, I’m sorry to say, to my son).
So, I began to role play disasters in my head every single day. I began to tell myself,
every day for the last couple months, that I will never go down without a fight. I made a commitment to God and to myself that I will stay calm if ever confronted with disaster.
I will trust God, act smart, and be a man. For me, this commitment was not an act of
strength; it was a confession of weakness.

So, even as I left my car for my four mile run, I wore my new rain jacket
thinking about the severe weather I had endured in the mountains a few months before.
As I approached the trail I mumbled something to God about the possibility of rain: let it rain, God. Together, we’re strong.

Before the hour was over, the jacket wouldn’t make much difference, but the
commitment to be a survivor helped me make just the right moves. Through my commitment to be calm God probably saved my life.

The first two miles of my run were uneventful. I wasn’t in a hurry, so I was
clipping along at about six miles per hour. At the end of the second mile, I made a
u-turn to begin working my way back to the car. As soon as I turned around,
a gentle rain began to fall. I pulled my hood over my head and kept going.
Thank you, Lord, I continued in my fixation, for my new rain jacket.

After several minutes, however, the sky began to look ominous, and it began to hail.
I kept running, but I noticed that nobody else was anywhere near the greenway.
I was on the most popular part of the trail all alone. Being alone gave me an eerie feeling -did everyone else know something that I didn’t know?

The hail continued to fall, but the hailstones were not that large, maybe the size of dimes. I was surprised that it didn’t hurt when the hail hit my body. I can run in this, I thought.

When the lightning started, however, I grew cautious. The first few lightning
strikes were a mile or two away (I counted the time between the flash and the sound). Within a minute or two, however, the lightning was right overhead. I was in trouble,
and I knew it.

I had been thinking about survival in extreme circumstances every day for two
months. Here is my first test, I thought. Lightning may strike near me, but I can beat it if
I position myself in the right place. I’m going to get a real test of my new survival skills,
I thought. Okay, Lord, let’s test my commitment. I was actually pumped.

The first mile marker on the Stones River Greenway lies directly behind
Thompson Lane-a heavily traveled road in Murfreesboro lined with businesses,
offices, an auto garage, gas stations, and apartments. The parking lots of two of these businesses, the Greenway Office Building and the Stampede Saloon look down on
the trail, which is about 15 feet below, but separated by a jumble of trees and bushes.
From the trail to the river is another 10 foot drop off, also separated by a jumble of
trees and bushes. If it weren’t for the trees, you could probably throw a rock into the
river from the parking lots above.

Across the river is an established neighborhood on a rise of another 20 feet or so.
The houses in this neighborhood are some distance from the river, and separated
by tall, majestic trees.

When the lightning began to strike overhead, I left the trail and climbed down the bank
to within a few feet of the river, crouching beneath some bushes. I was careful to keep
my feet together and plant my hands on the ground, so as to create a circuit in the event that lightning struck near me. I was actually feeling pretty smart, and I was confident
that the storm would blow over in a couple minutes, leaving me feeling good about my survival instincts. I thanked God for keeping me calm. I remember watching a stream of water trickle down the side of the bank, creating tiny waterfalls over the leaves and mud before finally reaching the river. I remember being proud that my jacket was keeping the water out. No big deal, I thought. I’m going to be fine.

Suddenly, after four or five minutes, the rain and hail stopped. It was odd-the
rain didn’t slow down; it just stopped, all of the sudden. After ten minutes of lightning,
of rain, of wind and hail, the silence was disturbing. But, hey, I thought, at least the storm was over and I could continue running. I stood up to climb back onto the trail.

When I stood up, however, something didn’t seem right. To this moment I cannot say
what I felt, but I knew in my gut that something was wrong. I don’t remember if the wind
was blowing, and I don’t remember much of what the sky looked like. Actually, I couldn’t see much of the sky. I could see the trail, which was about eye level, and I could see the wooded slope leading up to the parking lots, but I couldn’t see the horizon beyond that.
In the distance I heard a low rumble.

The L&N railroad runs pretty close to the greenway at mile one, but my gut told me
that the rumble I heard was not a train. It sounded like a train … I mean just like a train,
but somehow I knew that it wasn’t. So I stood there for a minute, maybe even more, listening and hoping the rumble wouldn’t get louder. But it did. It got much louder.

At this point, I feel like I should confess that I was terrified, but the truth is that I
wasn’t really scared. Events were unfolding too quickly for me to feel much fear.
Besides, I had been talking to God for forty minutes about my ability to survive in any circumstance. So, rather than fear, I felt this adrenaline rush and this intense sense of challenge-my survival skills are going to be tested, I thought. This will be good for me.

I actually felt some bizarre sense of appreciation that God was going to allow my
faith to be tested in an extreme way. I know it sounds crazy, but all I could think of was
how I wanted to pay close attention to what happened next so I could learn more about survival to pass on to my church. I was thinking that after I survived, I would be able to share what I learned with others, and maybe help someone else survive.

Don’t get me wrong- I was not thinking about glory or fame. Rather, I was thinking
that this disaster would give me a great testimony about the power of God as well
as giving me lessons on survival that I could share with others. I was thinking that I
could write about the story and share it with other backpackers to help them develop survival skills.

Ever the preacher, I was thinking that I could use my experience in sermons to
encourage Christians to face cancer, loss, or even death with trust. God will take
care of me, I said to myself. I can survive. And I really believed it.  I think I nervously
giggled at the strangeness of the situation. I never once thought of death.

The rumble was very loud by now, and I heard cars honking, metal screeching, and transformers exploding. Dude, I said jokingly to myself, you’re in a tornado. This is even bigger than Backpacker Magazine. You’re gonna be on Oprah. It sounds flippant now,
but at the time, humor was my way of staying in control of my emotions, and it worked.

Panic is the number one killer in survival situations. Presence of mind, a sense of
purpose, and even humor are often the very elements that determine who will live
and who will die in the midst of a disaster. By talking to God, by looking for a lesson
to be shared with others, and by kidding myself, I was able to stay calm and to act
smart. By the grace of God, staying calm and acting smart probably kept me alive.

When I heard the transformers exploding, I had five seconds to decide what to do.
I quickly looked around at the options. Bunches of trees, the river, a small dock built
by the park service jutting out into the water. Nothing else. The nearest tree of size
was a few feet away. I quickly wrapped my arms around it at the base, laid on the
ground, curled my body around the trunk, and looked up to monitor the situation.
I asked God to forgive me of my sins, then, mumbled something like “let’s get it on!”

Within two seconds I saw the first pieces of debris flying over me. They were
topping the trees above the trail, coming from the direction of the parking lots. I was impressed by how much debris there was and how fast it was traveling. It looked
like it had been shot from a canon.

Then I heard the cracking of wood; not a little bit, but the sound of an entire
forest being split at once. It is not a sound that you can ever forget-wood from a whole forest violently exploding. If you can imagine ten thousand baseball bats being wildly broken at the same time, you will know what I heard.

I checked my grip on the tree, and thought to myself, “Here she is!”

Immediately afterwards, I saw the wall of the tornado top the crest of the slope
and slam into me. The sound was amazing, and the power incredible. Everything around me, including the ground, was shaking. I could feel my tree groaning as it was trying to leave the ground. The whole forest heaved. Debris was crashing all around me. Static electricity made my hair stand on end. I saw what appeared to be a house fly right
over my head, past the river and off into the wild.

Though I had curled myself around the tree, the tornado picked up my legs and
extended my body into the wind. I suppose my adrenaline was working properly,
because I never lost grip of the tree, even though my body was now off the ground
flapping in the wind like a flag. I never thought I’d lose my grip; I was determined that
I would not fail this test. I wanted to make God proud of me. I kept thinking that I
needed to document the experience in my mind so I could help others. I never
closed my eyes.

The front wall of the tornado was bad, but when it passed, I found myself in the
strangest world I’ve ever seen. I was in the eye of the tornado, and I knew it.
I dropped back to the ground and instinctively curled around the tree again.
A lot of debris was still shooting across the river, firing across my line of sight like
meteors. But now I also saw debris spiraling inside the vortex of the tornado.
Close to me, it was traveling at lightning speed, racing around and around just
like you’d expect.

But farther up, along the inside of the funnel, the debris was moving slowly,
gracefully, almost playfully at the top. It wasn’t circling; it was dancing, up and
down more than from side to side. I don’t know how far up I could see, but it seemed
like miles. A strange light illuminated the inside of the tornado. It was totally surreal.
It was peaceful, calm, and, I hate to say it, incredibly happy. I fancied that angels were performing a ballet just for me at the top of heaven’s ladder.

So this is what’s inside a tornado, I remember thinking. It is not possible to describe the feelings you get in the eye of a tornado. There is such a mixture of primal feelings-blood pulsing, mouth drying, eyes focused, heart racing, muscles taut. Everything that
has been you, in my case for 48 years, comes down to one infinite point and freezes;
your breathing calms and your mind seems to step out of your body and look around in amazement. You notice the smallest details: a leaf blowing past, a small sound, the
strange illumination inside the vortex. You watch the inside of the funnel as though you were watching a movie. There’s a strange sense of detachment.

And you feel, at the same time, both all alone and totally immersed in the love of God.
I mean that literally. In the eye of the storm, there is no one else, and as far as you
can tell, the entire world is now gone. Nothing looks familiar, and you sense that
you have already died and gone to heaven. The peace, the beauty, and the
overwhelming view up the vortex above all lead you to feel an intimacy with God.

I felt loved in the eye, and even now that feeling moves me to tears. It’s like going
to heaven and seeing the book of Revelation. It’s like waking up in Alice’s Wonderland, Deep Space, and your mother’s womb all wrapped into one. There is no yesterday, no tomorrow, and no worries. Just peace, calm and incredible beauty. In the eye of the
storm, you may not even be you any more.

To be in the eye of the tornado is unforgettable. I want to say to anyone who has lost a loved one to a tornado that, chances are, your loved one died far more peacefully
than you think. Inside the storm the love of God is more intense than you can ever, ever, ever imagine. It is calm, peaceful, and overwhelmingly safe. Your loved one died in the loving arms of God, and I guarantee you that they knew it.

Being in the eye makes you thankful to God, and I remember murmuring some
words of gratitude, at least in my heart, if not with my mouth. I was thankful for
the three seconds-or was it an eternity?-that I spent in the eye of that storm.
Grateful, that is, until the back wall of the tornado hit me. The front of the
tornado had been violent, but the back was even worse. Best I can tell, the front
of the tornado had picked up trees and broken off large branches. Now the back of the tornado began to drop them all around me. Debris was slamming everywhere.

Though I had been in the tornado only 10 seconds or so, it already seemed like a
long time. The peaceful feeling quickly dissipated; now I had to ride out the worst.
I remember thinking, “almost over; hang on; you’re going to make it!”

Meanwhile, stuff was dropping all around me. Two trees fell on me; I saw the
first one coming. I remember thinking it was odd because it fell backwards away
from the river. Most of the debris was flying across the river. The trunk was
robably 5 or 6 inches in diameter, and it landed on my left leg, just above my ankle
(which was curled up behind my bottom). I saw it hit me, but didn’t feel anything.
I think I was too pumped. Immediately afterwards, a second tree fell on me from above.
I didn’t see this tree coming. When it landed, it was on top of my body, and must have hit my head, since later I would discover a deep gash above my left ear. I didn’t feel any pain.

Then, just as quickly as I saw the tornado come over the rise, I saw it cross the
river and leave. The back of it looked almost like a curtain; it was distinct. You could
see where it began and where it ended. I remember as it crossed the river water danced upward, like a million little dancing fountains in Las Vegas. I watched the tornado
move up the opposite bank into the trees and towards the neighborhood behind the woods. Then it was gone.

For me, the storm was over. I lay there a little while to make sure that there was
no residual debris following it. I couldn’t see much because of the trees on top of me,
but I just kept thinking “I survived! I’m a survivor! We did it, God!” I remember giggling
and saying thank you to God over and over again.

As soon as I knew the storm was gone for sure, I wanted off the greenway fast.
To get off, I had to climb out of the trees that were on top of me. It only took a moment.

But, when my head emerged from the top of the downed trees, I stopped in my
tracks. There before me, where only 30 seconds before had been a beautiful woods,
lay the remains of a nuclear explosion. You’ve heard it before, but until you see the destruction caused by a tornado, there simply are no words to describe the view.

Everything was destroyed. The trees were twisted, mauled, tangled over the ground.
Huge sheets of metal were wrapped around many of them. Two by fours with
jagged nails were lying everywhere. Entire sections of buildings, roofs, glass, twisted pieces of who-knows-what were everywhere. I gulped and realized that this was serious. Very serious. If anyone else was in this storm, I realized, they were probably dead.
From what I could see, I assumed that the entire city of Murfreesboro had been
wiped out. My heart sank.

I couldn’t walk on the trail, either to the left or to the right, as the debris was
piled ten or fifteen feet high. So I climbed through the debris up the slope towards the parking lots I knew were above me. It took only a few minutes (I was really,
really motivated to get off that trail).

When my head emerged above the slope, all I could see was devastation.
A three story office building to my left had lost the top floor and half of
the second. Directly in front of me a pile of trailers was stacked 20 or 30 feet tall in
a twisted, smoking pile of angry destruction. Live wires and cables were everywhere,
as were trees, broken telephone poles, and tons of debris.

My first instinct was to run to the office building to check for survivors. I assumed
that if anyone had been in the building, they were probably dead. It is hard to
describe how bad it looked. As I began to walk, however, I stumbled. I didn’t realize
that I had been hurt. My left leg was beat up badly, and the gash on my head was
bleeding. I was wearing a white headband, and though I hadn’t seen any blood,
it was filling with blood (as well as mud from the storm).

Circling in the parking lot were four immigrant workers. I don’t know why they
were there; I assumed that they had been landscaping nearby and ran over to
check the same building I wanted to check. When they saw me, their faces grew white.
I could tell by the looks on their faces that I must have looked bad, though, again,
I didn’t feel any pain. One of them ran towards me, and as I took a step towards him,
I fell. I think I was in a mild form of shock, though I never lost my awareness.
He picked me up, threw my arm over his shoulder, and carried me towards a couple of pickup trucks that were pulling up at that moment. I asked him his name, but we
were both in such shock that Ican’t remember if he even answered.

“We’ve got to go to that building and check for survivors.” That’s all I could say
as several men gathered in the parking lot. One of them was a rescue squad responder, who was putting on a firefighter’s uniform as quickly as possible. “I’m going in
with you,” I yelled out. “No, sir, you are going to the Emergency Room. You are hurt.”
We argued for a few seconds, as he continued to put on his uniform. Finally he put his hand on my chest, as if to threaten me, and yelled. “You’re injured and you’re
going to the Emergency Room right now. End of story.”

A couple of guys from a landscaping business had pulled up in their truck.
Turning to these guys, he asked them if they would take me to the ER. “Of course,”one said. “Get in the back of the truck,” he ordered me. I must still have been pretty
disoriented, because I stumbled around trying to figure out what he meant by
“back of the truck.” I fell again, though I couldn’t figure out why I kept stumbling.

The truck had a double cab, and they put me in the back seat. As we hurried off
towards the local hospital, we turned onto Haynes Drive, a heavily traveled road
dissecting one of Murfreesboro’s largest clusters of neighborhoods, including my own.

We got a couple miles before we saw debris on Haynes-terrible debris. Trees were
down, huge chunks of houses were scattered across the road, telephone poles
snapped in two. It looked horrible. Only later would I find out that a beautiful young
woman and her nine week old baby had just been killed on Haynes Drive only a
moment after the tornado had shaken me. Haynes Drive was completely blocked by mounds of wreckage. We had to find another route to the hospital.

We drove around for a few minutes trying to find a way to get through the neighborhood
to the other side of town, where the hospital is located. The men who were driving me
to the hospital were anxiously trying to call their family members, but most of the cell towers were jammed. We only managed to get a few calls through. Because my wife and kids  ere, unbeknownst to me, crouching in the back of a grocery store seeking shelter from the same tornado, which they saw from only a few yards away, they were unable to answer their phones. For thirty minutes, we were out of contact, but I wrongly
assumed that they were safe far on the other side of town, so I wasn’t worried
about them. I only wanted to tell them where I was so they wouldn’t worry about me.

Later I found out that they were all praying for me. Incredibly, my thirteen year old son, Jonathan, was anxiously pacing the floor of the store while a tornado was directly
over his head, praying over and over again that God would save me. What others
would call “luck” in my survival, I credit to their prayers.

It took some time, but eventually my new found friends pulled up to the ER. I opened the door of the truck and fell out again onto the pavement. During the truck ride, my head
had begun to hurt a little, but I still couldn’t figure out why I kept stumbling. I remember a handful of emergency personnel at the entrance of the ER; several picked me up and
put me into a wheelchair. When they wheeled me in, a lineup of ER staff members
stared at me with wide-opened eyes. They had already been told to expect the worst,
and I was their first patient.

It wasn’t until they rushed me back to a cubicle and removed my clothing that I
realized why everyone looked at me in amazement, as well as why I kept stumbling.
My white headband was bright red, soaked in blood. My clothing had blood all over it.
Soon the sheets on the hospital bed would have mud and blood on them. The gash
in my head was pretty bad; all the way to the skull, and requiring 7 or 8 staples to stop the bleeding.

My leg looked awful-bloody, cut up, and quickly swelling to a large size. Oh, I
thought, this is why I keep falling. I had a concussion and my leg was badly bruised,
but I knew in my heart that I was okay. I knew that God had saved me; that I had lived through they eye of a tornado, that two months of prayers about trust had been
answered in a massive way. Odd, but I felt euphoric; I couldn’t stop laughing.
The morphine and the hydrocodone only made me more animated. I joked with the
ER staff, who seemed more stressed than I was (they weren’t on morphine).

I tried to encourage them to wheel me over to the side and prepare for an onslaught of seriously wounded people, but they were too professional and too kind to do that.
Every one of them was super nice to me. Two different women, both named Jennifer,
were especially kind to me; I remember thinking that Jennifer was going to be one of
my new favorite words. I felt as though we were all in this together. I know I must have talked their heads off. All I could say, over and over again, was “I survived a tornado.
Can you believe it? I was in the eye of a tornado. And I survived!”

I went home from the hospital with dear friends, who prepared dinner for me
while my family went to see if we still had a house. Incredibly, our house didn’t have a single shred of damage or debris, even though scores of houses all around us were
hit by the storm. By eight o’clock I was home with my family. We had no electricity,
but we had all survived. God is awesome, we agreed, before saying goodbye to the
wildest day of our lives.

The Good Friday tornado was one of the worst storms ever to strike
Murfreesboro. To this date, no one is even sure how many tornados touched down in Murfreesboro. Were there two? Even three? The tornado that caught me cut a 23 mile
path through Rutherford County, sometimes as wide as half a mile. Experts estimate
that the tornado measured four on the Fuchita scale (an “F-4″ tornado) when it
passed over me; that’s a “Devastating Tornado packing winds between 210 and
260 miles per hour” according to the National Weather Service.

Over 800 businesses and homes were damaged by the tornado, scores of them
completely destroyed. Fifty-one persons were treated for injuries, some severe. Two precious people lost their lives. I suffered a concussion and a beat up leg. Thirty eight million dollars worth of damage was inflicted on our community.

But Tennesseans have a knack for bouncing back. The very next day, literally
hundreds upon hundreds of people roamed the neighborhoods with chainsaws,
shovels, food and water, helping neighbors clean up. A hundred-fifty people from my church gathered at 8:00 a.m. and spent the day helping their neighbors. To date,
there has not been a single incident of vandalism. Instead, everyone is pulling together
to help each other out. Our community has come together. We’re going to be okay.

Easter Sunday, 2009, was one of the prettiest Sundays I’ve ever seen. The weather was cool, the sun was beautiful, and the sky was perfect blue. It was an Easter unlike any
other in my life.

I had already planned to talk about the Resurrection, but now I had felt it.
God raised me on Good Friday.

Our church had 2,307 in attendance, shattering our old attendance record. Across
the stage we had over a hundred lilies, looking a lot like angels in front of the empty
tomb. And there I was, hobbling onto the platform with my brother ministers,
surrounded by the white heralds of spring, proclaiming that, no matter how dark
the storm may seem, Christ is Risen!

David M. Young
Murfreesboro, Tennessee
April 14, 2009

Please tell us a little about yourself! I am a 33 yr old stay at home mom running a business I would never have dreamed of  a year and a half ago!  I live for my family….me and my boys.  I married my best friend, seriously he was put on this earth for me.  We have 2 awesome boys (although I am partial).  Ethan who is 5 1/2 and in Kindergarten.  Spencer who is 2 and more trouble than I could have ever imagined, in a fun way though.  My mom is my best girlfriend in the world.  We talk about 15 times a day.  If we could we would just live together but we’re not sure what to do with my husband!!  I am an only child although I come from a large family.  We are big sports fans….playing them, not so much!  Although I do dabble in a little golf!!  I grew up in Tennessee but I am orginally from Louisville and I went to college there- Go Cards!!

Tell us about Stroller Strides. Stroller Strides is the country’s largest fitness program for new moms.  Classes offer a stroller workout that combines power walking and intervals of body toning using the stroller, the environment and exercise tubing.  It really is a great way to get in shape, meet new moms and have fun with your baby.  And I promise, it is not “just a walk in the park!”  Stroller Strides also powers LUNA Mom’s Club.  Through our moms club we participate in weekly playgroups, monthly moms nights out and community events.

What inspired you to purchase your own Stroller Strides franchise? In 2007, after I had my 2nd child and I did not return to my job.  I was looking on Craig’s List (for the first time) for something to do to bring in a little bit of money.  Well it turns out that I went to elementary school with the very successful Nashville Stroller Strides franchisee.  She was looking for an instructor and there was nothing out here in Murfreesboro.  When I went and tried out my free class with her, I had a speech all ready.  Unfortunately she couldn’t take on anymore territory and said I should look into it.  25 days later I was a proud new business owner.  Now, I should have started this by saying that NEVER before in my years did I enjoy exercising and truthfully NEVER really even did it.  But after that first class I could not believe all the energy I had, how great I felt and that I had just lasted an hour.  When I told my mom and my husband about this venture that I was interested in they both asked if I said correctly that is was a fitness business and did I realize that I would be teaching fitness classes!!  It has totally changed my life!!  I can honestly say that I love my job and can not wait to get up and go to work everyday.  Not only is class a good time but our “away from class” events are a good time too.  We all really enjoy each others company.  I remember when I started getting some new faces and they were interested in signing up saying that they could probably come 2 to 3 times a week.  Ok, no biggie.  Well, I ended up and still do see them almost 5 days a week.  Honestly that tells me that I am doing something right!

How do you balance running a small business with caring for two small children? Good question!  It is not easy at all that is for sure.  I have a great support system for one.  I am extremely organized.  And in my work experiences I have either been in the corporate world or I have been a teacher.  I think those things help me everyday with what I do in my business.  My kids are great and very independent (that’s the Montessori in them) which helps when I need to be on the computer.  My office is mine and their playground!  Plus, when I am out marketing they are both such people magnets!! 

What do you see in the future for your business and what are your short term/long term goals? Short term…to make it through the month of April!!  I look at April last year and I am so glad and proud to be where I am this year.  There have been so many times in the past year and a half that I have just cried and wondered what the heck I was doing.  I knew what I had to offer was awesome and had been marketing like crazy but no one was coming.  I had 1 loyal member.  Then everything exploded in the Spring of 2008!!  I now have 3 locations and am hoping to open a 4th by summer.  Long term…I hope at my 3 year mark (June2010)  to have doubled my class locations.  I hope to be at a point that everyone knows the name Sunshine & Stroller Strides and that they are wondering where they can sign up!!

ATTENTION LOCAL MAMAS! If you live in the Murfreesboro area, you are eligible to win a free month of Stroller Strides with Sunshine!  Here is how you enter:

One entry:  Leave a comment on this post

Two entries:  Make a post about this giveaway on your blog and leave a comment on this post

Three entries:  Put the new Artsy Mamas site into your blog roll or add one of our buttons, make a post about the giveaway on your own blog, and leave a comment on this post

Extra entries:  Do all of the above and then use your creative juices to come up with other ways to get free entries into this contest (like by sending out an email to friends/family, posting it on facebook or twitter, etc)

Good Luck, friends of Artsy Mamas!!  And thank you Sunshine for this great giveaway!

The Ultimate Blog Party at 5 Minutes for Mom!  Yay!  We love parties.  We’re even giving away some swag!  (We’re number 57!)

For those of you who are just stopping by as party guests we hope that you will subscribe to our rss feed and visit our site regularly.

Artsy Mamas is a 501(c)3 non-profit organization in Murfreesboro, TN.  Our organization was founded in 2007 and is the brainchild of Executive Director Mandy Ray-Jones.  She created Artsy Mamas as a response to her need to find an outlet for her creativity that seemed to be long gone due to motherhood and as a tribute to her late mother who spent her entire life being a in-the-closet artist.  Since the beginning, the organization has changed and evolved but still remains true to its mission to educate, encourage, and empower mothers through the arts.  The events take place in middle Tennessee but the movement is international!  We hope that all Artsy Mamas will become involved with our cause via our website.  Furthermore, our goal is to expand by forming chapters throughout the US and eventually the world.   Perhaps you might be the right person to start an Artsy Mamas network in your community!

Take a look around.  As you can see, mamas can use our site to promote their endeavors.  You can also share your ideas, tips, art projects, etc by submitting posts to our site.  Please contact us to be added to our mailing list.  Or become a fan on our Facebook page.  And if you happen to be in the middle Tennessee area, contact us to find out how you can get involved directly by volunteering for our outreach program or by leading an Artsy Mamas workshop.

Thanks so much for stopping by.  And thank you to 5 Minutes for Mom for helping us launch our new site!

Tell us a little about yourself, Kelly.

Kelly and her son Milo

I’m Kelly Kerrigan! I am a Nashville Native who graduated with a degree in Theater & Art in 1996 from Austin Peay State University.

Since then, I have filmed a few spots for shows on HGTV displaying crafty ideas and painting techniques. I have worked in lots of different places over the years, such as music stores in malls, art supply stores, scenic design companies & art galleries.

I am now a full time self employed artist spending most of my days making lamps and painting and mixed media creations krockbizz.blogspot.com . I live with Paul Kerrigan, a graphic artist & web designer. His web site is www.coolkidsstudio.com Together, We are making all sorts of art from our funky home-based studio in Nashville.

What is Tramp Lamps and how on earth were you inspired to create this line?

Tramp Lamps are one of a kind hand made lamps crafted out of Vintage and Modern women’s clothing. They are sturdy and hard like any store bought lampshade, however, they are delicate hand made works of art - not factory produced.

I have always had a interest in making unusual lamps from strange materials. I have made lamps from jelly jars, cake pans and cow

Tramp Lamp "Holly"

skulls. In 2003, I was working as Head of the Painting department for a local shoe company in Nashville, Tennessee. I decided to experiment with making lamps out of clothing as a diversion from the monotony of the assembly-line work I had been doing for 3 years. When I made my first lamp out of a vintage garment, friends and family went nuts for it. It quickly became clear to me that this was worth developing as a business. After doing a lot of research, I found nothing like it had ever been crafted before. I decided to pursue the concept and take my creations to the Web.

How do you find balance between being an artist and taking care of your family?

The family thing is a bit new since we just had a baby in June. I can no longer spend the 7- 8 hours doodling on projects all day like I did a few months ago. My studio time has definitely dwindled since he has come into our lives, but when he is asleep or in his swing - I get to work! it seems that with my limited time, i work harder and more concentrated on ideas and projects i have started. Nighttime is great to work because he is asleep- as is Paul - so i go to my studio in the basement and work care=free for up to 3 or 4 hours. The video monitor is great to have as a means of keeping an eye on him while i am downstairs making new lamps.

Where could our readers go to see more about Tramp Lamps and how can they contact you?

www.tramplamps.com is my web site. All the lamps I have available for purchase are pictured there in the gallery. Each lamp that is for sale is linked to my shop on Etsy.com. Etsy is such a great site for people just like me who want to sell their hand made creations online in one smart location. Beware: Etsy.com is addictive!

byov-bellydance1
Saturday, February 7th, 1-4pm
Artsy Mamas presents: Be Your Own Valentine Belly Dance Class and Hafla Celebration
led by Jessica Soberano
http://sidoniabellydance.com/
Location: Center for the Arts
110 West College Street
Murfreesboro, TN 37130

$6.00 in advance, $10.00 at the door. Contact Mandy at 615-907-8084 or artsymamas@gmail.com to find out how to purchase tickets in advance.

The bellydance class/hafla will focus on the basic movements that are a foundation to modern bellydance. We will learn how to combine these movements and use them in a choreography created specifically for this class. We will also discuss the role childbirth played in the development of this art form as well as how to execute the movements safely while pregnant.

We will also enjoy a performance and food and drinks will be provided.
Come dressed comfortably and ready to move!
www.artsymamas.org

Artsy Mamas newsletter

January 21, 2009

NEW WEBSITE

Our new website should be launched by the end of the month! We are very excited to have it up and running. There are so many great things that we can do with this site once it’s unveiled. One of those things, in particular, is giveaways and contests! Are you a small business owner who would like to promote your product or service through our site? Just drop me a note with the word “giveaway” in the title and include what you’d like to give away in the body of the email! I’ll put you on a special list of folks who are waiting to take advantage of our upcoming website!

We will also begin featuring Artsy Mamas in the Spotlight again regularly. So, if you would like your business, hobby, or special interest to be highlighted at www.artsymamas.org, please let me know. I already have two people waiting in line for this one but we’ll get to you, I promise! This is a great way to have your talents and skills recognized by a new audience. And free advertisement is always appreciated. All that we ask is for a back link in return.

I plan to emphasize the online aspect of this organization while I am on hiatus this spring and early summer. Please let me know if you would like to be involved somehow. I am open to any and all ideas!

*Why am I going on hiatus, you ask? Because in just a few short weeks, I’ll be giving birth to my third child, Indygo Drayken (it’s a boy!). Please keep us all in your prayers as we make this huge transition into being a family of five. You can keep up with us at my blog: http://mandyray.blogspot.com/

We are also planning an online survey. Keep your eyes open for your opportunity to let us know what you want to see from Artsy Mamas this year!

Upcoming Events:

Attached is a flyer regarding our 2^nd Annual Be Your Own Valentine Sidonia Bellydance Class and Hafla. Here is the information about that event:

Saturday, February 7th, 12-4pm

Location: Center for the Arts 110 West College Street Murfreesboro, TN 37130

$6.00 in advance, $10.00 at the door

Contact Mandy at 615-907-8084 or artsymamas@gmail.com to find out how to purchase tickets in advance.

The bellydance class/hafla will focus on the basic movements that are a foundation to modern bellydance. We will learn how to combine these movements and use them in a choreography created specifically for this class. We will also discuss the role childbirth played in the development of this art form as well as how to execute the movements safely while pregnant. We will also enjoy a performance and food and drinks will be provided. Come dressed comfortably and ready to move!!

Other things to look forward to in 09:

-“Fan Club” packages (to include discount cards for businesses, a t-shirt, button, and bumper sticker)

-Painting classes for mamas

-Mother’s Day “Get Your Art On Mama” drop in craft session

-Dinner at the Center

-Meditate and Create: Bottlecap Jewelry Making

-Volunteer opportunities at Greenhouse Ministries, Bellwood Preschool, and the Pregnancy Support Center

-Artsy Mamas fundraiser craft show in the Fall

-Holiday Mother/Daughter activity

Artsy Mamas Needs YOU

Are you interested in volunteering but you’ve had a hard time plugging in because you have small children? Artsy Mamas has the perfect volunteer opportunities for moms like you. You don’t have to be “artsy” in order to “get artsy”! We can find a place where your special skills will be used and appreciated.

What types of activities are of interest to you? How can Artsy Mamas be of service to you or your group? Feedback is always welcomed and encouraged.

Happy New Year! I look forward to seeing you all during 2009.

Mandy Ray-Jones,

Founder and Executive Director

*If you would like to be removed from our mailing list, just lemme know! No big deal!

Artsy Mamas is so proud to have teamed up with the local agency Greenhouse Ministries. They welcomed us into their facility and embraced our mission with open arms. We enjoyed pizza and some fun art activities. There was a holiday tree theme: gratitude trees and Christmas tree magnets! Here are some photos from our evening.

Stumped for a cool gift? Need a break from shopping?

The Center for the Arts has a solution for both:

Game Day

Dec. 6th, 3pm-7pm

FREE! FREE! FREE!

Games for all ages!

Center for the Arts
110 W College Ave
Murfreesboro, TN 37130
615-904-2787

Come try out games for the trivia wiz, the strategy genius, the card
shark, the artist, the young and young at heart. Pick a new favorite
game and have a great time.

The Center for the Arts is an affiliate distributor - this means that
you can check out the resources directly from us and avoid the wait
and the shipping costs. Contact jennifer@boroarts.org for more
information.

http://www.nga.gov/education/classroom/loanfinder/

About Free-Loan Teaching Resources

The National Gallery of Art’s Division of Education provides slide
teaching programs, multimedia programs, videocassettes, CD ROMs, and
DVDs to millions of viewers each year. These programs are intended to
foster awareness of the visual arts and make Gallery collections
accessible to a broad audience beyond the Gallery’s walls. They are
circulated free of charge to educational institutions, community
groups, and individuals throughout the United States.

Our Loan Programs meet national standards in the visual arts for
kindergarten through grade 12. A variety of artists, subjects,
techniques, and styles are examined. Many programs contain suggestions
for related activities and questions designed to stimulate discussion
of the art and artists, of cultural and historical issues.

Slide teaching programs are designed to permit flexibility in use. We
encourage you to review them, select those images and information that
are most useful to your teaching needs, and to adapt and shape the
materials to your specific instructional objectives.