Pursuing Passions, Leaving Legacies
Welcome to Lark & Legacy!
Just like everyone else during this time, we spent days in and days out with one another figuring out what we should be doing and how we can still enjoy our time together even with all that has happened last year. 2020 has secretly given a gift to our family and that is building a stronger family bond, making memories and pursuing our passions. We ultimately spent most of our time trying to learn new things from baking all different kinds of desserts even our first homemade loaf of bread (…just like everyone else during lockdown =), cooking, painting and playing sports. Much of that time was spent laughing at our mishaps and re-dos but working at becoming better. But…the best part about pursuing our passions and satisfying our curiosities was that we did it together. During the pandemic, we’ve also had a lot of time reflecting on how we can embrace life, the good and the bad, and how we can create a lasting legacy for our kids, Ali, age 13 and Aidan, age 10. What we found was that we are building a legacy every day, whether we intentionally do or not. Even the smallest, most seemingly insignificant, or even boring things are the things our children will remember long after we are gone. Baking cookies, bike rides, silly dancing to our favorite songs, our 50+ trips to Disney — these little moments all play a part in our legacy.
Our hope is that through this blog we pass on our love for life and all that it has to offer, having fun while we are at it and documenting it all along the way. Our desire to cultivate a place to explore and create whatever our hearts desire as an expression of who we are.
Charlotte Eriksson’s poem from Another Vagabond Lost To Love: Berlin Stories on Leaving & Arriving describes self expression and legacy in a wonderful way:
“… so this is for us.
This is for us who sing, write, dance, act, study, run and love
and this is for doing it even if no one will ever know
because the beauty is in the act of doing it.
Not what it can lead to.
This is for the times I lose myself while writing, singing, playing
and no one is around and they will never know
but I will forever remember
and that shines brighter than any praise or fame or glory I will ever have,
and this is for you who write or play or read or sing
by yourself with the light off and door closed
when the world is asleep and the stars are aligned
and maybe no one will ever hear it
or read your words
or know your thoughts
but it doesn’t make it less glorious.
It makes it ethereal. Mysterious.
Infinite.
For it belongs to you and whatever God or spirit you believe in
and only you can decide how much it meant
and means
and will forever mean
and other people will experience it too
through you.
Through your spirit. Through the way you talk.
Through the way you walk and love and laugh and care
and I never meant to write this long
but what I want to say is:
Don’t try to present your art by making other people read or hear or see or touch it; make them feel it. Wear your art like your heart on your sleeve and keep it alive by making people feel a little better. Feel a little lighter. Create art in order for yourself to become yourself
and let your very existence be your song, your poem, your story.
Let your very identity be your book.
Let the way people say your name sound like the sweetest melody.
So go create. Take photographs in the wood, run alone in the rain and sing your heart out high up on a mountain
where no one will ever hear
and your very existence will be the most hypnotising scar.
