project childhood

helen's collage in the hallway...

As a young child I was fortunate enough to have my grandmother around to help pick up the pieces while my parents--who had divorced when I was two--were busy doing other things. In my eyes, my grandmother was a giant among giants, my angel from Heaven, a woman whose being shined everywhere she went. She made others smile. She made people laugh with her knock-knock jokes and funny faces. Soft spoken and caring, she didn't really say much, but I was never at a loss when it came to feeling her love.

It was the simple things like a hug or waking up on Sunday morning and finding the comic page spread out on the dining room table with a tall glass of Tang (my favorite) waiting for me that made me feel so special. Then there were other times when we would just sit around her piano singing songs for hours on end when I probably should have been fast asleep. I will forever be grateful for those years I spent with her.

My grandmother has since passed, but her spirit lives on with me, and so do her words. You see, she was an accomplished songwriter and poet, and her love for the written word eventually rubbed off on me--I am almost certain that at the base of PROJECT CHILDHOOD is a part of my grandmother who taught me to speak up for those who couldn't speak for themselves. And this wasn't merely a lesson on the chalkboard. No, she taught me about integrity and courage through her daily actions.

I can still hear her continually reminding me that every person in this world had something special to offer. And sometimes, she would say, people fall off track and lose sight of what's important. It was her belief that rather than judge those people, we had a moral obligation to help them find their way back. In essence, we had a obligation to make others happy. We had a duty to love one another, to show love, to be love, to live love.

I have a framed collage of my grandmother's poetry hanging in the hallway, and one verse that continually stands out to me goes like such: "To love is the reason for living."

That, my friends, is the underlying basis of PROJECT CHILDHOOD. It's so simple, yet so powerful, and with our art and all of our effort and generous donations to various non-profit organizations around the world, and all of the love we share for one another, we have to believe that we can make a difference in the lives of so many children--an investment that will last a lifetime and pay itself forward. Thank you so much for your willingness to even consider PROJECT CHILDHOOD.

Welcome aboard Jessica Hughes...

Thank you to Jessica Hughes and her generosity. She just donated six (count 'em)... six sets of her Actions Collection. That means,  we now have six prize packages to hand out. With WPPI right around the corner, I look forward to getting PROJECT CHILDHOOD underway once everybody returns recharged and full of vision and life and love for their art.

a little sorbet with your art...

Everybody say hello to Tana LeMay of Wild Sorbet Frame Co. who just joined PROJECT CHILDHOOD today. You may recognize her name (and her frames) from her work with Extreme Makeover: Home Edition, and now we are both fortunate and thankful to have her onboard. Check out the cool items she just added to the prize package:

• For the grand prize winner:  Two frames--any size, any color.
• For the two runners up: one frame each up to 20x24 with their choice of color and trim style.

Stop back in a few days to hear more about Tana and her endeavor to celebrate childhood.

one company just made the prize package sweeter...

Please check out how Jie at J. Lee Albums just sweetened the prize package, and because of her generosity, we will be adding two prizes for second AND third place. Stay tuned for a special post about Jie and her thoughts on PROJECT CHILDHOOD.

HINT: There is also another company that is going to jump on board and it's going to be just as awesome as Jie's contribution. Here's a hint: Think color.

camp laurel revisited...

Above my desk I have a framed newspaper article that I wrote ten years ago when I was a newspaper reporter. It's about a wonderful place called Camp Laurel. Located in the San Bernardino Mountains, near Big Bear Lake, it is a year-round camp for children living with HIV and AIDS.

The short time I spent covering this story left me with years of reflection and both wonderful and disconcerting thoughts, to the point that tonight I find myself still thinking about the little girl who refused to go and play with the other children.

We were up on the football field when I noticed that a young girl--she was no more than eight or nine--was seated a hundred yards away from all the action. I decided to approach her and ask her to join in the games, even though I wasn't really a part of the games, since most of my job as a reporter just entailed observing and asking questions--especially after the helicopter stunt I pulled.

When I asked her why she wasn't playing, she said, "Just because," but that wasn't good enough for me. There was a real reason, one that forced me to keep asking the same question a little differently each time. Finally, I said, "Come on, I'll go play with you. Let's go." The reply she gave me will stick with me for the rest of my life. She said, "Why bother, I'm just gonna die anyway."

I have this article above my desk because it serves as a reminder of why I feel I was put on this earth, which is to help those children who feel hopeless find hope. And that is the main focus of PROJECT CHILDHOOD--that through a continuous celebration of life, we will come to value life.

Eventually, we walked hand-in-hand to the football field, but I, too, still find myself wondering the same question many of you are probably wondering, and the answer is, I don't know. I just don't know. Who knows, maybe her beautiful face will show up in one of your entries.