i am just so tickled with how everything just falls into place if you don't panic...just breathe...and listen...and wait. there is a time - just the right time - for everything to happen...for each thing to happen. i am a panic-er from way back. a trait inherited through my fathers side...fear and panic. i have worked hard to remove those useless and exhausting traits from my life, but it's like trying to clean goop from the carpet sometimes. like in the ghostbusters movie: "he slimed me." that kind of nebulous goo that you think is gone, but then you feel a tiny bit sliding down your earlobe, all cold & nasty, and you go Uh Oh...missed a spot. so anyway...i made a concerted effort to identify and ignore or work through or work past or leap over fear or panic when i see it starting. and did i mention i have elevated both to a professional status? when people ask, "what do you do for a living?" i could answer, "well, i have a PhD in fear and panic, and i've been in practice for ___ years." so THIS time, i didn't panic...i knew the answer would come and it did. so now i have to get off this f.r.e.d. and get to work. so see ya...don't worry, be happy. Ok - now there's a perfect example, if i may stay here a moment more...could you just slap the smug off the guy who wrote that song?? BUT - he has a rags-to-riches story that makes you go, Dude! good work, my friend! making money from telling other people to relax. so very ingenious. so very positive outlook. i mean, we could all be humming a whole different tune if he decided to say F-it...this is too hard & scary and i'm going to flip burgers...or be a crackhead...or whatever he decided. i'm fully caffeinated and should just shut up (about 1 post ago no doubt) so bye. L.

this video just says it to me. and then i got to thinking about dreams and wishes and realities and lies you tell yourself and fears and stopping yourself before the light turns red or letting someone else stop you (which is really the same thing if you think about it, it's just the finger points the other way) and steppng into space without a net. and today i had long overdue conversation with gailwhonevercalls. first let me say that the conversation, or this post is in NO WAY pointed at sweet jengray. not even a little. it was just her video that started a chain of thought that led other places. we got talking about how some people put up a facade of "everythings groovy" and it's all peace and bliss. there's nothing wrong with peace and bliss...in fact, show me the line, and i'll have an extra side with that, please. but our convo centered more around the ones - you know who they are - who seem to know how to tell everyone else what they shou;d do to succeed, and every note or blog post is from candyland making you think that maybe you are just the losingist grumpiest glass-half-empty person on this green earth. (and yes, in case you wondered, i AM procrastinating my project right now). but to only share the good, great, better, best is not fair. there a few kinds of blogs...those that are more of a way to advertise your product, service, etc, and direct people to your etsy shop or ebay listing. another is more of a meeting place for people with similar interests. another is...well, you get the idea. there's nothing wrong with any of them, not that anyone asked me. i don't know how to explain my point (and i do have one) (for a change)without a good friend thinking i mean her. i don't - this is in general and not about ANY one. just because you have a blog, it doesn't mean you have to open every secret door of your life. but to bar the doors, and make it seem as though it would be just so easy for me to have your success simply by doing xyz, well, that's like saying God didn't heal someone because they didn't have enough faith (former former church) or something equally absurd. so many voices these days yelling "caution" and an equal number pushing and begging people to "follow your bliss." i believe the truth resides somewhere in the middle, and is at a different place for each person. everyone has a different tolerance for risk, and a different tolerance for mediocrity. i currently live a mediocre life. i'm aware of it. i embrace it. there are huge swatches of brillance that will slam into it and trail through like the tail on a comet. then i need a rest. and when i say a mediocre life - not as in a sadly under-optioned existance barely taking breath. no - i mean i live in a way that i would like to change, will change, but am content with for now, knowing that i can build what i need to get to that comet-tail of a life, or i can choose to take a leap at the galaxy and grab the shining end of it. my tolerance for risk is not what it was 20-30 years ago when hitchiking was a perfect means of transport if you were unable, for whatever reason, to properly operate a vehicle yourself. or borrowing mom's car to go to a party lakeside in a foreign country (well, canada) with a bunch of drunken hockey players. no. i have those stories and memories to have and hold, but when i'm dealing with my real grown-up life, i need to see a bit more fine print. so although i HAD a point, i went off on a transient tangent as usual. okay - my point, which may or may not still be pertinent - don't tell me to grab my fairy dust and take a leap at my dreams when you are secretly living off a trust fund that allows the same risk that could potentially send someone else to an attic apartment recently vacated by some crackhead in a part of town that isn't even on glossy maps at the gas station just an area marked with a skull and crossbones. am i an optimist? yes i truly am. cautiously, like my uncle samuel. i just don't feel like i know what's best for YOU, so if you ask, you may get a reasonable answer, or an uncle samuel shrug. so back to the blog thing. if i gave advice, which i don't, i would say be careful what you take in. do what feels right for y-o-u...what rings true for you where you are right now. read some fine print. if you're 20-ish, forget everything i just said and take a flying leap at your dreams. seriously. i mean, if not NOW, then when?? for godssake - you don't have a mortgage or credit card bills up the ying yang...no kids grabbing your paycheck. good lord - just re-read this post and you'll know why NOW is the time. before you get old and grumpy. or satisfied with mediocrity striped with greatness. grab it all and demand more. fill your basket and wish you brought a wagon. now go - take a leap. git. L.

btw

My friend Holly has opened a gallery with 12 of her closest artist friends...Grand Opening this Thursday 5-9....right on E. Genesee St in Skaneateles...overlooking the lake. worth the trip, i assure you!

I am an artist. I am a woman. I am a wife. I am a friend. I am an employee. I am a homemaker, though a somewhat distracted and disinterested one. Whiter socks and perfect piecrusts never really troubled me. As I thought about the different roles each of us plays throughout their days, their lives, I realized how the particular role sometimes requires a particular mask…to hide the authentic, the true. And why was a mask worn? And what effect did that have on the authentic and true? Did it wear down the deepest desires and Creation sense of Self? Did it seamlessly blend and incorporate the different facets? And was that dishonest, or just the way things were expected to be? Or the way the person is comfortable? And how did that ripple out to those contacted with…to become frustrated with them for seeing only one facet of the person, when the mask worn was too heavy to see through…and do people see what they want, or expect, to see - then stop looking for more? Witnesses to a crime will often tell widely varying accounts, often based on their LifeStory. When asked to describe a personal friend, it’s interesting to hear or read the different labels or personality traits that each person remarks on…one saying the person is quiet, the other describes a funny, gregarious person, yet another mentioning the organizational skills, and yet again another remarking on artistic ability. All the same person…different faces shining in different lights. It was interesting to feel my reaction when a couple i had known since early teenage-hood decided to divorce. I saw them as a couple. There was no Jack...and Joan. Just JackandJoan. I guess I hadn't "seen" either of them after all. And I felt betrayed and a little unsettled by their decision. They were the "last married couple in America." If they had gotten their unhappiness past me, what else hadn't I noticed? And else hadn't I cared to notice? Haven’t we all had times where we “felt” like an artist, or “felt” like a traditional homemaker or fill-in-the-blank? Then the next day…completely different. Except for that core of the authentic and true Self. So then, is the mask a part of the authentic and true? Or does it exist to hide? If it is to cover, is it in shame, or in protection? So again, the questions hang…what is true…what is authentically you…are you peaceful with your masks - your roles - or do they rattle at you in the dark? Do you long for someone to dig deeper…to look past the outward appearance…to find You? Or are you content…covering and preserving and protecting…You? There are no wrong answers. You may begin.

i swear i was taking an extended break, but stuff keeps happening and if i don't share, i'll explode. i was just today offered a 1-woman (me) show in september! i am so freaking excited! between that, and my diva coming home from Camp Grandma, i am feeling some bliss. a much needed respite. tonight i went to this very cool church - the Vineyard - with my mom. the music rocked the house, the people were very cool, they have a free snack bar at the back of the sanctuary, just in case you get hungry...who knew. so anyway, one of the associate pastors was preaching (although it was more like teaching - no brimstone or yelling SINNER!) and in the middle of it, he stopped and said "there's someone here that is hurting very deeply...you feel battered and bruised and exhausted. peace and rest to you." then paused and went on teaching. boing. so, posse, i pause along the trail, in front of the campfire, pink cowboy boots on, and a good smore going. soaking up the atmosphere before the sun gets too hot and the duststorm picks up. good night. peace and rest to you. L. PS...go here WHOO HOO!

my mantra

Guide And Provide.

TTFN

hey y'all...i'll be taking a break for a while. please keep in touch. catch ya on the flip with my shiny new life. Linda

study hard

i feel like i am being tested. physically and mentally. well, the mentally part - nuff said! I am CERTAIN....positive, i tell you...that there is a hidden camera & microphone a la Alan Funt (google it if you're under 40) in my cubicle at work. there is NO POSSIBLE WAY that the people who called me today - every single one of them- no way that they exist for real in nature...that they are roaming the aisles in the grocery stores and gas stations looking (possibly) just like you or me, with 1 head and eyes (left & right) and opposable thumbs. no way. no how. because a different breed of complainer hit my phone today. not from this earth. from some other terra firma and they had a direct line to me. i normally seem to attract people from the fringe, shall we say. while i'm trying to ramble my way through the grocery store at nascar speed, someone will pick ME out of the entire store ME and begin somehow to weave their life story into a can of lentils. Lentils?! i do not know from lentils. and i cannot bear your story mrs. lentil-buyer. not this day when i left the windows open and it's about to rain and i hate to grocery shop because then i have to cram and pack it all into my car then drag it home and unpack and uncram it from my car while not letting the dog and cat out and then re-pack and re-cram it into the fridge and freezer and cupboards and in an hour when i remember the potato chips with the jalapeno seasoning they'll be gone and eaten by friggin locusts dressed as stepchildren. in a nutshell, that is why i feel less empathy for lentil lady than i probably should. but back to my day at work. at first i thought "uh oh" with the first FORTY MINUTE drunken tirade. who i ask who can even over-drink THAT much by 10am??? AND she was calling from arizona so it was God knows what time there. telling me ME i'm a crack ho. after i repaired the burst vessel in my head, i took the next call, and i swear to you, she made the first caller seem like someone i'd take to the symphony. i cannot believe, by the third call, that someone i work with is not behind this. i look around, waiting for someone to start snickering and say HA HA. because this is something i would do to someone else. and have. except the crack ho part. but no. this is for real. and only the beginning i discovered quite some time later. the only saving grace to my day way that i had to go to the bathroom. so i logged off the instrument of slow death and went to the ladies room. now i forgot to tell you that while i was enjoying my Dunkin Donut supreme omlette with sausage and real-ish eggs and not on the english muffin i ordered, but on the croisant that the "chef" felt was a better flavor combo, no doubt, BEFORE my work day officially started, i decided to see how bad my inbox was. bad mistake. i was getting kicked around like an emotional pinata and not even officially at work yet. just dining in my cubicle. and the whacker was none less then the VP who had somehow gotten it into her pretty little head that i was the reason we were being sued over something. ME. so i spent the better part of an hour relaying that the incident in question never not ever had it crossed my desk. not even an "oops sorry." so when i decided to go to the ladies room, it was as much for refuge as for relief. so, you know how there's a small little space where the hinge attaches the door to the divider thingie, and if you look (even though we all pretend we don't) you can almost see who just walked in? maybe just a flash of color. well as i was about to assume the stance (which i'll cover another time, but you ladies all know the Public Potty Stance of which i speak), i hear footsteps and see a flash of pure white. no - not God, or an angel...the VP. i have no desire to meet up with her 1 on 1 in the loo with no witnesses, so as soon as she shuts her stall door, i am OUT OF THERE. i can hold it longer than i think. so the day more or less escalated itself till it fell (flopped down in exhaustion mostly) into a steaming heap of itself at 7pm. and i think it got a piece of me. i'll fight back for it tomorrow. meanwhile, i had the most crazy-wonderful convo with my home slice Momma J and she is one special person, i must say. puts the P in perspective. (which reminds me - in case you worried...i snuck down the hall and used the executive wing bathroom. they have the softest 2-ply. i scream Unfair!) so don't forget - smile, just in case you ARE on candid camera. L

this quote tickles me: "...like chasing a dancing muse on roller skates..." from Cheryl Costa, playwright and Very Cool Person. man, i'm making up for lost time here. L. (and YES you doubters...i am making art....just waiting for some glue to dry)

holla for challah

my tribe in the hood...oy turn up your speakers...take a load off...here have a nice piece of fish now wrap your head around this. rappin rabbi....say hey yahoo MATISYAHU

good morning!

are you awake yet? i've been up for hours! the cardinals woke me very early, since the West Coast Gypsy is recovering from travel. a glorious morning with a gentle breeze that promises rain later. i love being in my studio with the sound of rain outside. of course if the angels start bowling, i have to watch my step, with diva wrapped around my leg like it's a Titanic life vest. a little yoga on the back deck, a cup of coffee to balance out the goodness, and a small list of tasks to accomplish today...clean my car out (it looks like a library blew up in there), work in my studio, start downloading my pics and tunes. actually, those are the to-do's for the weekend. i'm not going to push and squeeze too much in. which reminds me...shop for new pants. if you haven't emailed yet, please do soon..my address book got wiped and that's why you haven't heard from me. i'm dying to tell you how wonderful you are! (so i''ll take a second here for a personal message...my queen! we must rust this weekend!) okay back to it. here, this is for you: Wild Geese You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves. Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine. Meanwhile the world goes on. Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain are moving across the landscapes, over the prairies and the deep trees, the mountains and the rivers. Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, are heading home again. Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, the world offers itself to your imagination, calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting-- over and over announcing your place in the family of things. © Mary Oliver.

still no photos transferred. sorry. still diggin this new computer though! it has the number keypad on the right hand side, making it easy when i do work from home, but a little strange when i reach for the "L" and hit 6 instead. i won't bore you with the blow-by-blow of the week, but it has been a week. incredibly good things and some of the saddest moments...all wrapped into 5 days. so it ends on a mixed note, but all-in-all, not so bad. the yoga is taking effect again and i'm feeling that Warrior woman come back, along with the centered peacefullness that's been lacking. it's showing in my work at the Big Girl Job, and in my studio. i feel myself contented and smiling much more than in recent weeks...has it been that long? so i re-made a promise to myself to start walking again. alone. i'll still give diva her props, but i need that alone walk to process and de-stress and inhale and feel my gratitude...smell the earth and the trees and the late-blooming trees...touch the rough bark of the shag maples and listen to my hawklettes in the nest, now too big and should really be out on their own. a theme. as much as i want to stay up and play in my paints tonight, i expect a very early wake up call, and a full day of plaster and process, so it's an early wrap up. when did i get so boring?? broseph:...i heard a rumor, youlikeemeet. good go! good luck! call you never call. oy. now off to my howling wolf dog. and dreamtime. meet you there. xoxL

eclecticy

i'm getting to know my new computer, and i must say i have a crush on it! when i save an email address to "contacts," i can add alll the usual stuff PLUS a picture of y-o-u! very nice. i've recovered and transferred everything but my pictures so far. (this one came with the computer...just thought i'd dress up the post a bit).oh and just realized i have to burn all my itunes to disk, then tranfer them and de-burn them to the new home. then sync. at least that's how logic is taking it. which would be fine if my old computer had disk-burning capabilities. which it doesn't. i think it just died of embarrassment, actually. oy. so up and coming is the Arts And Crafts festival downtown. i look forward to this almost as much as my birthday. almost. and the reason why, is that this is more like my New Years Eve than January 1st. why, you ask? well let me tell you. first, and most excitingly, is that i have a standing date with my famous living poet friend, Georgia. i won't bore you with gushes of how wonderful and important she is. but she is. and i WILL gush elsewhere in another post (again) but will lose my train of thought if i sidetrack here (all these train analogies). second, because it is a marker of my year. where was I last A&C fest, and where have i journeyed to as of this year? what have been the good things? the bad? the still-need-work? the completed? accomplisshments? comfort zones crashed through? and on. something about being surrounded by all that art and smells of food and wildly creative people and just wild people...it calms me enough to focus and think a thing or two through. and buy some spanky new art! as i've mentioned in previous years...it is impossible to get through this wonderland quickly, when traveling with Georgia...she KNOWS everyone and Everyone knows her! she makes more frequent stops than the mailman, chatting endlessly with people. this is in no way a complaint. i have met some of the most incredible people during this day, and stretched my imaginings of myself. it was during one of these festivals that i "became" an artist...with proper introduction. (and much verbal beating later for squirming under the lofty title). and many plans, intuitions and thoughts gel during this day. not to mention how nice it is to just be outside, enjoying art, with one of my Most Important LifePeople. it is where, last year, i decided to quit smoking. and did. this year finds me smoking again, but quitting again. so for this i am happy. today i plan to get plastered on my deck in my pj's. actually, i'll being laying down another layer of plaster for my mannequin, and have an old cutoff pair of pj bottoms i wear to keep mosquitos & plaster off me. i love kidding myself! so hopefully i'll have some pictures...i'll cajole Georgia into taking a few hopefully. be good y'all. and send up some love to another M.I.LP of mine...sing a silent chorus of Dancing Queen (ABBA style) tomorrow at your leisure. wink-nudge. Linda

YIPPEE! my new computer is spanky! i never realized how slow the other one was til now. of course, i feel a little guilty, like i'm cheating on my old one. it's sitting on my worktable right behind me...shhh! the only casualty of converting, copying, etc was...my email address book. soooo...please drop me a quick email, just so i can re-get your email address. unless you'd prefer i don't email you, then FINE. happy 4th y'all!

Happy IndepenDance day! a day early. i mean think of it...the courage and planning and Everything it took to travel to the unknown, and create a new country. i'm glad to have been born now, and not then. so, here i am procrastinating. i have 3 projects going, and 3 full days to work on them. an early wake-up, into the studio and painting some little gifties for my bunkmates upcoming. today's agenda includes attaching a leg to a mannequin, which i'm delirious about. i have had more fun leaving that thing under a table, sticking out through a partially closed door, and hiding in the freezer. i've had a job offer in Portland, OR and am thinking hard about it. the job itself would be somewhat killer in demand hours, but it would be a nice transitioning step. i have time to decide, and am their first round draft pick, so it won't slip away unnoticed. there's another one in Washington state. same job, different location. what's with the west coast pull lately?? yes - i know, still typing as a way of procrastinating. works well! we are now a 1 dog, 1 cat household. i miss rocky and worry for him. but it seems much more peaceful, and the workload is decreased by quite a bit. i think there's a lesson there for me about holding back a bit and giving space. my new boss has finally felt comfortable enough with me to totally and outrageously buck upper management and worked it so i can go to yoga! i love her. so i went wednesday, with gummifriend staying late for me. cried the whole way there, spilling open with gratitude and realizing just how dry my spirit was getting. the yoga greasing those old bones, as it gently centered my spirit and calmed the chaos. i cannot express how much more i become "me" after an hour of yoga. i don't understand it, but don't feel the need to dissect it. it just IS. it makes me want to breathe in the colors and textures of life, and reconfigure them into art as i breathe out. to be intensely aware of the sound of the breeze as it sways the leaves. to stand here and catch the heavy perfume from the blossoming tree, then step away a few paces, and it's gone...picturing the scent traveling a pathway through the air. this is what yoga does for me. this is food for my body and my spirit. and even just writing this has finally lit the burner to get busy with my leg. so a very happy IndepenDance day to you..in all it means. xox Linda

and another thing...

we all have a short-list of people we'd like to meet, don't we? some famous...some not. some serious...some funny. and some...well, there's just no explaining it. one of my "no explaining its" was Billy Mays. don't know why. just did. and i just got the newsflash - he died. no, he didn't discover a cure for anything...never won a Nobel prize...i don't even know if he was a nice guy or not. he was just...so enthusiastic. and ya can't fault a person for that. the world of infomercials will never be the same.

what could be better than an early sunday morning (Early!) on the deck...steaming mug of coffee...ipod playing Grand Mantra...making art as the sun just begins to yawn and stretch...a quiet walk with my freshly laundered Diva sending wafts of baby shampoo around her and looking proud with her pretty pink bindi...an afternoon at My Lake with terns diving and waves rolling in...heart shaped stones...a perfect lakefront property with an unreasonably low price...pan seared yellowfin tuna with lemon dill and spring mix greens with raspberries...a mug of decadent Tibetan tea...as the rain begins to patter a tune on the roof now, i ask you - what could be better? unless you were there to share it with me....L.

i had a conversation recently with a dear friend. she's an incredible artist. has a brilliant career. against all odds, has raised The Cutest, smartest child. i am in awe of her ability, throughout her life, to have overcome, gone around, plowed through and just plain disregarded obstacles in her life that would knock most of us down. she never "got up and dusted herself off" because she refused to let whatever it was get her down to the mat in the first place. so what did we talk about? loneliness. she feels lonely. her marriage and career and family are wonderful. but she feels lonely. we women are wired for companionship. specifically, and despite other relationships, companionship of other women. they are our support system, our sounding boards, our Life Posse. only women understand women. and it isn't just humans. in the animal kingdom even, when the going gets tough, the "women" of the group will band together to fight off an intruder, protect, feed, care for, find shelter...whatever needs getting done. even if that species is not normally a community-minded group. the men of that same species will attempt the same tasks, yet solo. this is not a male-bashing post. my point is that we women, no matter how fulfilled we are in our day-to-day, still need the company of other like-minded women. notice your most treasured friendships. whether they be the once-a-year phone call variety, or the twice-a-day check-in type. within those closest friends, there are elements of ourselves. or elements we wish to mirror. but the friendships are equal...each getting the portion they need from it. and back to my original thought, i couldn't believe that someone with such a busy day, and with so many accomplishments to point to, could possibly feel lonely. but i realized the truth in her words as she explained that it was the gathering together with people cut from the same mindset...women that you didn't have to explain yourself to...women that understand the end of your sentence...who will nuture and cherish the friendship. there are times when one person may need a hand up - and maybe quite a lot of the time. as compared to the other part, who is able. each offers from their heart, however. and i realized how special we women are...how wonderful it is to be able to gather together and get the work done...whether it's Heart work, or Housework, or just plain laughing and talking over steaming mugs of tea...or holding one another till the tears subside. we women. i am thankful and filled with gratitude for all of the women i've had as role models, and friends, and more. i thank God for them, even though i know it's not fashionable to say "God." those golden threads cast around the world make a beautiful net. i thank you for being my friend, and hope i can be a better friend to you. L.

my gift to you

Just Go Here. prepare to be stupified with great harking laughter. you're welcome.

i'm not quite sure what is shifting under me...what is making my balance unsteady...but it sure packs a whollop...and today, it slammed me to the ground, then picked me up and dusted me off and (just for effect) did it again...how many 20-minute moments did i spend sobbing in the ladies room - who knows...starting my day with my husbands question "so have you called a lawyer," should have warned me back to bed for the day, but no, i pressed on furiously...tenacious as a terrier...curiously determined to make it to work on time, with or without mascara running down my face...it was, of course, the wrong choice...when everything in me was quietly telling me to be gentle with myself today...so i sobbed through the morning, took a late lunch, which included sobbing in the deli...that actually was kind of wonderful all-in-all, as Sophie and the grandma's came around the counter in their roast beef streaked aprons, all hugging me "what's wrrrong hooney? is a man? i tink a man? only a man could make for this cry." which of course made me cry more and want to be part of their big hugging family. the granddaughter works the checkout ...she's 30-ish, gorgeous, funny, and wonderful. and after 5 years, knows my life story. mostly. she took 1 look at me, all snotty and puffy, and said "husband or stepson? never mind. i keel both." that got us laughing and snarking...talking about the new special of the day, etc...luckily i had paid when moments later "our song" came on the radio, and i beat feet before i started all over again. so discombobulated. then i walked in the door at home, and felt i had made the right choice. just like that. just like the whole chaotic day had not happened. just like when one of my favorite patients called just at the right time "i may be a toothless waitress with a 5th grade education, but that s.o.b. is mean and i left him." that favorite. i told her that she deserved only good, and that she was a wonderful and strong woman. that tickled her. then, just because it was that kind of day, i gave her a free set of dentures. because i can. and because she deserved a hand-up (although she's doing pretty damn good on her own). she started crying...you guessed it - i started crying. i can't wait till the listeners-and-scorers hear that one. so my friends, it isn't really a pity party...just a little turbulence. now, i think an early lights-out is called for. and maybe a sick day real soon...heed the call to be gentle with myself. you do the same, now. L.

outsider art?

...maybe a different sort....this morning i loaded up my sewing machine, yarn, tubs and baskets and more baskets of supplies, and took it outside. there i've been since 10am-ish...the sun warming my shoulders and back, then creeping around to the front...inspiration through my ipod in one ear, and a persistant cardinal in the other. jeweltones under my fingers as a magic cloak takes form. lest you think i'm procrastinating...oh no my friend. just working out the back kinks with a brief cup of tea, a smidge of a sun salutation and a quick note to say hello. looking at marlene's video brought tears to my eyes...an unexpected lump in the throat...the wishing and longing kind. i expect something very different and very much the same this time, as i have changed since that day...that trip down that dirt road still chokes me up, with the going away part. i feel geeky almost to have this one thing that feeds me so. you must think i have a very little teeny life. in some respects i do...not so much teeny, as refined through fire down to the essential...people that i love fiercely...things i long for in ways so deep and profound i know them to be true...the sight of my diva's little belly and how her tail wags as if to make her airborne...these are irreplaceable and all mine...all different levels of my candybox of savorings, yet i honor each with a gratitude and knowledge that so much can change so quickly. my tea is finished, my sewing machine waits impatiently, so i say good afternoon to you...you are most precious to me, friend. know that. L.

yes hello..it's me procrastinating. well, not so much procrastinating as reworking...trying to keep the monkey mind occupied with 1 hand while the other hand stirs the creative stew. yes - the mannquin. i just don't like what i have worked up. so i unworked it and will begin again. the problem: 3 different ways to go with it. i must re-focus on my intent for the piece, then let her go about doing what she wants anyway. a local gallery owner tasked me with creating a piece (a few years ago) that was an homage to his long ago relative. she grew up as caretaker of her siblings, parents, aunts, and eventually died, alone, in a nursing home, having never left the small town she grew up in. her story touched and intrigued me. it all started when the gallery owner...wait - backup...the gallery is in a huge HUGE ancient building that dates back to the 1800's or early 1900's and was a factory of some sort. upstairs from the gallery proper, are floors and floors of studios. one end of at least one floor is a giant storage area. now back to our story. one day he let me wander through the storage area (hundreds x hundreds big) to look for rusty metal. as if i had to look far. but then in a small locked room, were Things. he let me in the room, and it appeared to be leftover props from shows, but no - it was actually some of his family's old furniture, etc that was being stored there...50's couches and 60's chairs...and a suitcase. i was in my suitcase phase at the time, so this caught my eye. i asked if i could have it, and he said he had to ask another family member downstairs (i didn't realize this was family stuff yet). seemed odd, but i said ok. that's when the story of this suitcase, and it's owner came to light. the other family member said a reluctant yes, because the gallery owner had told her i was going to do a piece about the suitcase's owner. i was?? there were amazing, magical things that happened with that suitcase, and how the family history came falling into my lap from bizarre and miraculous sources. i wasn't even looking into it that much, but everywhere i turned, there was someone who was from that tiny tiny town and knew the history, or a postcard featuring the town found at a gigantic antique show...it was spooky cool. but the piece wouldn't come. too much of a real person to try to capture. so i kept the suitcase on a shelf for another time. fast forward a few years. the mannequin project. and after rough mind-sketching, and beginning parts of it (that remain) i realized...i was making the piece the gallery owner had somewhat commissioned. she stands in the suitcase. and the rest is a big secret for now. subject to change anyway. i spent part of today doing a "hair" weave on her a la Hey Girl salon downtown. not sure if it will stay, but have decided never not ever to get a weave personally. ouch and who can sit that long. when i need to clear my head, i walk diva, or go meditate in my closet. diva has been walked to within an inch of her life and runs under the bed when i come near. so i guess it's time to get into the closet. speaking of which...can i just say that i attract some of the strangest people to me? it mostly wonderful, sometimes a little scary, always enhancing, but why me?? i don't think i look anything like someone who has all the planetary connections to help mankind. in fact, most days i am not quite public-ready...racing to the grocery store from 5 hours in the studio - eyes glazed, half shot from caffeine, glue and plaster and paint in my hair and all over my clothes. i would run from me if i saw me. and yet. maybe they think i need a friend and the best they could come up with as an opening line is "can you reach the bisquick i have to make 200 biscuits for this funeral thing well not really a funeral more like a celebration of a life but if the persons gone then why do they call it that you know and i just don't know why i got into catering...." etc. 1 breath - 1 hour. while you wait. buckshot conversation. while i nod at appropriate times as if encouraging and empathizing. once - i pretended to speak a different language and tried to tell them i had no f-ing clue what they were saying. they continued. louder though so i'd understand their english better. oy. although that did work with the person trying to sell me Sprint phone service. they called 3 times. THREE times during dinner. THREE times in a half hour. so i finally pretended to be the senile grandmother visiting from China. "ello?" i repeated after everything they said. interspersed with an approximation of what i thought perhaps sounded somewhat similar to maybe Cantonese vulgarity. which is not a language i speak, nor have ever heard, to my knowledge, but maybe. the man on the other end became frustrated yet amused..."can you hear me now??" he finally asked. anyone knows he stole that from verizon. so i finally said "you vera bad boy" and hung up. no more sprint. but meanwhile, i feel like i could burst from being a human secret warehouse...people i've never met just...tell me things. my secret-keeping ability wavers. if it's very very important that i keep the secret, i will. if it's moderately to not so important, it will find it's way past my lips. i can't help it. i mean, i spoiled my own surprise party by telling myself. (i had somewhat planned it, control freak that i am, and let my husband think he did it all). ( but it was glorious and wonderful in all the ways that are impossible to plan.) and i can't help but let a few slip because i just have too many inside me. years as an investigative reporter and as a woman have filled me to the very brim. i am a levee near high tides...some day someone will just drop one too many secrets on me, and BAM! i'll just sit down wherever i am and spew out everything i know. EVERYthing. it would make an amazing and embarrassing performance piece, this verbal diarhea, but it's like holding back tears - once they start, there is just no stopping them till they are done. so all that said, i've lost my train of thought which is good - it means i can get back to art now. but i leave you with this: The Journey One day you finally knew what you had to do, and began, though the voices around you kept shouting their bad advice-- though the whole house began to tremble and you felt the old tug at your ankles. "Mend my life!" each voice cried. But you didn't stop. You knew what you had to do, though the wind pried with its stiff fingers at the very foundations, though their melancholy was terrible. It was already late enough, and a wild night, and the road full of fallen branches and stones. But little by little, as you left their voices behind, the stars began to burn through the sheets of clouds, and there was a new voice which you slowly recognized as your own, that kept you company as you strode deeper and deeper into the world, determined to do the only thing you could do-- determined to save the only life you could save. -Mary Oliver my inspiration for my mannequin piece. now there's a hint of a secret. L.

ahoy there! check this out!

my dentist - who is an artist - told me about this place...so very cool! i hope he wasn't suggesting i need a bath. naw. it was started by an artist, who refurbished a 100+ year old barn down a dirt road off in the middle of nowhere. and the place is always packed, he said.

so, i'm not sure what's up with this...this morning, i felt like i had a choice: church or flea market. the only reason why this stands out as a "one of these things is not like the other" kind of day, is that i haven't been to church-church in Many Years, and in fact would fear structural collapse of the building, lightening, etc should i attend at this point. so for the sake of the other Good People, i decline all requests. so it struck me odd that with all the infinte choices before me on this beautiful sunday, why "church" would even make the hamster wheel. so off i went to the flea market, armed with leftover vacation money, and a fairly clear idea of what i was looking for. a box a certain proportions. 2 hours later, i left. not with a box, but box after box of religious articles. mostly catholic. i have been "mostly" a lot of different religions in my life. catholic was never on the list. never got to it, i guess. so Why? i asked myself. oh - and also a huge, incredible bag of correspondance between a local (apparently) deceased (apparantly) reverend, and a younger girl who bore him a child. Rev. Baby's Daddy. when i say incredible...her letter to him saying she was pregnant. a covert letter from her aunt with a picture of the child. a leter from Family Court asking that he be there, or: rev or not...here we come. a subpoena i think is the official name of the document. Baby's Momma returned a birthday card he sent, unopened. i was the first to see the greeting. no cash inside. always a disappointment. and the lamest card you could have found, in my estimation. i mean, a woman has your child, never goes public, and all you get her is a lame-o card? to be fair, comparing postmarks, the card arrived 2 days before the court papers were sent. perhaps she was equally as disappointed. word to the wise...when you care enough, go Hallmark. the baby is now a grown man with his own family, no doubt, with the last envelopes dating in the late 80's and newspaper pictures of him doing good things in school. Godspeed to you, Baby K. so why the strong religious attraction today? don't know. i have statues and statuettes and mourning cards and medals and rosaries and missals and 2 creepy crucifixes. maybe that's why i never went catholic...the whole crucifix thing is scarier than a 1920's baby doll face. the very first thing that grabbed my attention by falling on my foot, is this metal thing. yes - it always starts with metal. it looks like a stained glass window without the glass. i picked it up and put it down 3 times. the vendor came over and said he thought i was meant to have it and could give it to me for a buck - a full $3 off the asking price. unheard of...no bartering. so that got my attention tweaked a little. i wondered what to do with it, but had that excited little feeling that this was to be part of an epic piece. like i need another one. and that's when all the religious memorabilia began throwing itself at me. i mean, i have a serious load of stuff. and spent far far less than anticipated. like $20 for all this stuff. and that included a genuine pashima wrap, hand beaded and sequined in India. never worn. brand new. no teapots. so i can't wait to see what story is trying to tell itself with all these goodies. oh - and Mrs. Walker, the psychic, has a booth there now. i almost stopped by, but felt the soft pretzel calling me harder, and spent my money next door to her. have you ever gone to her? i interviewed her at the State Fair one year. when i was a reporter, every year we had to do endless State Fair stories throughout the event. one year, we had a contest with real cash prizes. who could come up with the most original story. so i interviewed the psychics at the Fair, to see who was the most accurate. the handwriting guy...the "romanian gypsy" woman who looked more italian with makeup than romanian, and i would know... as a bonus, i interviewed the "Ice Cream of the Future" guy (those freeze dried dots - Dippin Dots, yeah). and asked him which flavors gave the best predictions. he looked at me like i wished i had a camera instead of a tape deck, and said "it's ICE CREAM, lady....just ICE CREAM.' thank you for the "lady" part, i said, but then i don't get it...isn't this psychic ice cream? Ice cream of the FUTURE?? he became patient, figuring my dad owned the radio station or something. and explained in incredible detail about Dippin Dots. that was in the early/mid nineties. i still pee myself every year when i see the stand selling dippin dots. oh so and Mrs. Walker was there. i was upfront with her about who i was and why i was there, figuring, as a psychic, she already knew. she's just like someone's old Italian aunt. with a vibe. she said some interesting things, i admit. and some did come true. so when i saw her today i thought i'd say hi. but the pretzel caught my attention, and true to ADD form, went for it. so anyway, i'm off to figure out this rosary thing. i'll be missaling you! L.

i am

sometimes i'll grab a minute or 4 and look back through some of my posts, and it sometimes amazes me. sometimes i don't recognize the person who wrote it. sometimes i think someone stole my passwaord and wrote a post. that person sometimes sounds so ungrateful, so shallow, so out of touch with what is essential. sometimes i want to delete the post, lest someone else read it and think maybe I am totally absorbed with myself and every little drama that wisps past me. but, ah, it's out there already. so i wondered how i could feel so detached from that person, as i read some of those posts...how could i not feel that those writings belonged, somehow, in my blog? and i realized that yes, for better or worse, those posts are a part of me...they are the story of a heart and of a spirit as they grow...as they feel beneath the cover of earth for one another and graft together, then break through the ground into the sustaining sunshine...from opposite ends of my garden come the yin and the yang...the wild child weed and the cultivated rose...belonging together to create a whole...each part needing the other - one for strength and stamina and perserverence to get through the hard crust of earth...one for softening the edges and providing beautiful fragrance to those passing by. lately, i feel the graft taking hold more and more...not having to feel that being Earth Mother is mutually exclusive of being silly and so-called immature. each are true and authentic...each are respectable and acceptable. i have a friend who's a Tibetan monk...he is titled "Venerable." i think it's time i, too, feel that title for myself...not in ego or boasting...but in acceptance of my self as the person i was meant to be...no less than those i have admiration for, it's time to move past comparisons and wonderings. and just be. i am. i AM. I am....all those things and a few more and a few less...but just exactly what i am supposed to be. i will allow myself introspection. and i will allow myself silly, shallow moments, as always. but i think i will just Be with them and stop trying to figure out which is more correct or more "me." they are both part of me, and i know i have been comfortable with that, deep inside, for a very long time. i just didn't know it was okay. so i guess, half the time this blog is for amusement and entertainment as i go through my I Love Lucy-like life, and the other half is Mantra-momma. and when i figure out the bigger questions, i'll be sure to let you know. L.

making up for lost time i guess

yow...just how many posts in a day?! so here's the thing...what a crazy world this has become...i grew up in a time of rotary dial phones..the biggest deal was a pink princess phone...then a pushbutton phone! 3 channels on TV (on a good night) all black & white...with rabbit ear antenna covered in tinfoil on top...am radio...transistor radios swinging from 1-speed manual pedal bikes...the ice cream man was not a child molester...anyone's mother could swat you if you misbehaved...mrs. smingler regularly turned the hose on us for being loud...we spent days out playing kickball and baseball and dodgeball and hide-and-seek and mermaids in the pool...we dressed our barbie dolls and played house and slipped down hills on flying saucers in the winter...cars had air conditioning called 4-50 (all 4 windows down, 50 MPH on the highway)...they had cigarette lighters AND ashtrays...no one wore seat belts except very short people like me and that was to hold them on the phone book they sat on in order to see over the steering wheel...you could call someone a doodyhead and not get shot...weed was something we pulled from the garden when we were grounded and had to help mom...fast forward a few decades and i have a cell phone and a computer and 3 color TV's and air conditioning, of course, at the touch of a button in my car and in my house...i have faxes and call waiting and call forwarding and ipods and digital cameras...and a Tibetan monk asking me to be his facebook friend, and the Dalai Lama on Twitter QOTD: "Remember that not getting what you want is sometimes a wonderful stroke of luck." ~His Holiness, the Dalai Lama...and i have to wonder sometimes........

in the spirit of being good and kind and gentle with myself, i have an announcement: fuck the etsy store. (can i say the F-word?) It has been a non-stop stream of aggravation for me to get this together, and the whole thing behind it is of the release of negativity. so. there i said it and i just feel good enough about it to actually now make it happen. so amuse yourselves and look at the pretty pictures in the next post. i am going to smoke. Linda

ok i promised pictures....

From the Delavan show...Nuno felted "Flow" artfan, Dreamweaver the Crow art i forgot i made: broseph graduates..lost dog cafe gasp! is that Peter Frampton?? who HAS this much time?? a car made of legos...life size The sign says it all...found on a bridge in Boston...a bridge: Boston whale watch it was THIS close i tell you!

rules for living

there are (at least) 2 undeniable rules of life...1) cats are fast, and 2)plaster is messy. combined, these 2 rules spin off an entire list of others. i spent the day working on an element of my super-double-secret project, which involved quite a bit of mask making. and this was such an interesting activity for the cats, i found myself saying "NO!" more than a kindergarten teacher in a Catholic school. of course, NO to a cat means "check back in a minute and see if i really meant it." cats and teenagers. same animal. as the finished masks were drying on the deck, the crows then took a keen interest in them...friend or foe? they cakked and cawed for hours, with the audience growing in proportion to the number of masks, it seems. i have learned another rule of life...knowing FULL WELL that i despise the feel of grease on my hands, i decided to suck it up and make a casting of my hands. i started on left, slathering vaseline on it, fighting yarkitude. began wrapping plaster strips, and realized i would be wearing this for a very long time...no way to get it off. der. so quickly regrouped and shucked it all off, following by relentless, ocd-like handwashing. no hand cast. and i'm okay with that. and because i had to stand guard on my plaster, water, vaseline, mask set-up, i couldn't leave to get to the loo. sweet lord. what would Jesus do? i asked myself. no answer, so i dragged the cats in with me...just to be sure. now i'm sure YOU would have thought of this, but in my bladder-weakened state, it never occured to me just what fur+vaseline would equal. i looked like the werewolf and then worried what would happen when they decided to lick this junk off. THESE ARE NOT MY CATS. and yet. you notice no mention of diva. she was such a good girl, sunning herself for a while on the deck, then napping inside. g'ma came by to take her around the woodspath, which is like a daily trip to Disney for my girl. i feel guilty for what gummifriend no doubt had to deal with today without me at work, but sometimes ya gotta do whatcha gotta do. and today, for me, that was not work in a cubicle. normally when i feel the need for a sick day, i make myself make a list of what i will accomplish if i stay home. today i gave myself a fritter day...just fritter it away in any form i felt like. and i ended up accomplishing quite a bit. my sculpture is coming along good...with the general story/concept rearranging itself and gelling more. (mostly it's me understanding what it wants to say). i'm in the zone with it and it feels good, and it feels right. how to ship it? oy. who knows. there's time to figure that out. does it really do any good to label "this end up," or do shippers consider it a challenge to see how many OTHER ways up they can make a thing go? time for some stretches and tea. my back reminds me that it needs rest.

today i feel expressionless...although i've spent every waking moment in my studio working on my book, i don't feel my soul in it. the pages look amazingly flat and without Something. they could have been done by anyone. i went to a scrap & stamp expo this morning hoping to find some book vendors like last year, but there were very few vendors of any sort, and even fewer customers. last year the line went down the sidewalk to get in. not so this year. and i honestly have no interest in sparkles and glitter and daubers and such. i did find one vendor (Picasso) who had some incredible handmade marbled papers and even sold me some of his private stash of asian paper scraps. a nice walk with diva early early this morning - i promised her First Thing, and for once kept my promise. i am anxious to be done with this "holding pattern" i'm in...but the Word is "Wait," and i am finally learning to trust that gentle voice. but the frustration is building. maybe that's the lesson - learning to wait. learning to be patient. learning that there is a time for everything. and the time is now for trust. and patience. learning that "wait" is in itself movement, and part of the process. not 2 of my stronger virtues. give me something else. but i'm almost afraid to ask, knowing how my life goes! i feel grumpy and out of sorts. so now you've had the weather report. bored yet? and the thing is this...i know from hindsight that some of my best work follows these times...these times when i just want to curl up in a ball and wrap my blankets around me and sleep away my days. it's just the space between those creative surges that can kick you in the head. i have a project ahead of me for a show. it stares, half-started. i'm not the kind of person who "plays" artistically. i don't have days where i just spontaneously grab sheets of paper and slather paint or what-have-you all over them and discover the next new workshop entry. i am more meticulous. and careful, maybe. spending a few days thinking about it, working out a design issue, maybe, or what material to use, and mostly what i want to express. then it all fits together and i go to the worktable and start. the end result rarely, if ever, resembles anything i had planned...except the intent...the message, if you will. and the message may not be anything recognizable to anyone else, but i see my soul in the work. i once did an interpretation of one of Georgia's poems in an assemblage piece. both works are wonderful, but you'd never guess one had anything to do with the other. same with the "Sweet and Bitter Bowl" inspired piece. but it's there. there are skills i need in order to get to the next level of what i want to express...work in materials i've never used. there is a weeklong workshop about an hour from me this summer. do i dare take the time, when 2 weeks after that i leave for NH? i am longing for time...i feel everything in me scream for it...and to not worry that taking the time will affect other lifeparts. i feel i've come to far in my decision to turn back and say i stay here but only to work on art, yet to go means even less time on art...which will eat more of my spirit? which will drudge me down more than the other? it's noble to say that i cannot live in an environment where i am disregarded. it's the more difficult path to leave. to have peace of soul, yet chaos in life...trying to balance a full time Big Girl Job against time for art and time for Diva my love & my Reason. which of these two is the lesser of the tangled journeys? truth in my soul, or truth in my head? ah, yes...the Third Option. i am reminded. so back to the top we go...feeling anxious for the answer...to at least move in any direction. i picture myself standing on a rocky crag with the ocean swirling below, spray from the crashing waves sending beads of water high into the air, but i am higher still...i stand, feet together, back arched, heart presented to the sky, arms outstretched and back...open open open to the Greatness, open to the Love, and the Peace which surpasses all understanding...and i accept. Wait. i wait. L.

character & reward

today i built character. i went to work. though a thousand swirling projects grabbed at my heels and held me to the pillow, then made a warm shower an inviting womb to crawl into, then made it rain hard (HARD)...i grudgingly got dressed and went in. i did refuse to shave, though. i sat in my car with Guru Ma rolling sweetly out of the speakers...through my hair...lulling with the rain...and. i. went. in. i was greeted by an ebullent Gummyfriend who hugged me tight and said "i am SO glad you're here!," as if she knew just knew what a struggle it was to drag my aching hands and ankles and itchy back and head across town and into the office. as if she knew Diva was up for hours yarking in the wee hours. as if she knew just. how. badly. i needed. a hug. just then. none of these things she knew. not one. but instinct drove her to smother me in one of her huge hugs. and then i knew it was 2 swashbuckling wenches with Dangerously Bad attitudes and the will to Fight anyone in our way...it was us 2 against the farces of evil. Them. the Report Readers. and there, hunched over a stack of papers literally Literally i tell you 8-inches tall...2 piles i saw then. each 8-inches tall. there hunched was our new person. fresh from a dry socket root canal experience and still walking in the door. we'll get to her soon enough. i inquired as to why why new person are you hunched over these stacks? well! a new report needed to be done, but, alas, the reader of the report (who makes 6-figures no doubt) can't read reports the way the others do, so had tasked her with re-labeling each and every piece of paper in a new database Just For Him! cue the choir! angels sing! such brilliance. i mean, what a waste to have him LEARN HOW TO READ the report the way everyone does. a tear slid down her face. i felt my first moment of compassion of the day. Drastic Measures were needed. ahoy. i told her New Person, i am all caught up on my taskwork...i will personally take responsibilty for relabeling the already labeled. you, go now, and learn the job you were hired to do. she looked at me with slit eyes, knowing i had sticky notes upon sticky notes of work to do... knowing perhaps what was to happen...yet not. wanting to ask...yet not wanting to know. gummyfriend began shaking her head in a Nancy Kerrigan Nooooo. but i knew by the smile, that she meant yes. i took the piles and took responsibilty. knowing i would never be thrown under a bus. knowing that the last friday of the month is shredderman day. ahoy RMilhouse. now, twinkle that reportreader. L.

pinball brain

if you are new to this blog, i invite you to take a minute and start at the very beginning post...it puts it all in perspective. as if i've ever had perspective! now. Conversation with the cat: Pearl: what is that? Me: a book. Pearl: what's a book? Me: you read it and learn stuff Pearl: oh. (pause) Pearl: what's "read?" Me: it's like when you use your nose to sniff, but instead i use my eyes. Pearl: that is so weird. it went on forever. till even the dog got sick of it and told her to shut up. now. yes. we are all calling in sick one day next week. i had nothing to do with orchestrating that. except maybe planted the seed in an obscure sort of wishful way. who knew that 78 calls and 2 hours later, Other People would suddenly see the beauty of it? who knew they would latch onto my words like a titanic liferaft and daydream the very same possibilities that i had? daily. for a year. who knew? my job, in case you're catching up, is to get yelled at all day. on the phone. and then repay the favor by giving people their money back (and sometimes more) for any real or perceived infraction or loss. today, i surpassed all wonder: i engaged in an email conversation with a man who declared himself dead 3 years ago, thinking it would just make the bills we were sending him die also. au contraire. he steadfastly told any/all who called and wrote him that he had been deceased for 2 years prior. i expressed that i was glad to see he was doing better, healthwise, and would need him to provide me with a declaration of some sort (raised seal intact) of his resurrection in order for me to speak with him. if he was, indeed, him. due to federal HIPPA laws, and all. federal jail time just isn't the same now that Martha's home. the reply, as expected, was a hearty "F*&^ OFF." i suspect it was him after all, given that the tone of the email pretty much matched the previous few years worth of notes from Beyond. so in the midst of this Stuff i deal with for pay, i had to wonder, Who Else would put up with this for a day? beside me and my co-worker Gummyfriend. (we have nicknames). no one. no one else could take this abuse for 8 hours and then return again and again, like kicked dogs to the shoe. and i can't say i mind it, but the red tape that is involved in answering a simple complaint (as if any of them are simple) is just boggling. the boss rolls her eyes when she sees me cueing up for comment in our meetings. after i make it clear (again) that i have opted out of the bonus plan (that no one ever attains) and could care less about their reports and numbers and goals, and after i remind them that i am a person and not a "skillset," after all that preamble, i once again repeat that i was hired to do a job that i am damn good at, and will not take time to justify my 8 hours ad nauseam in 15 different databases. that if the report-readers were not smart enough to all look in 1 spot, i did not have the time or patience to pander to overpaid idiots. she began scheduling meetings on my days off. they went quicker, but were lacking. at least that was the report. now they've made me retuen fulltime, so be careful what you wish for. i just can't get fired....it's like Groundhog Day with Bill Murray. lord knows i try. of course now that i NEED the actual income to support myself, it'll probably crash. (don't listen God, no negative thoughts - safe place safe place). well, as usual, a fitting tribute and ending to a perfectly usual day ....time to go clean up dog yark. good night y'all..see you at the kirtan! xoxlinda

a quiet, yet amazing day. as usual, the gypsy woman woke me at 5am and rather than hit the studio, i spent time in meditation. as i mentally began to pull out my shopping list of what i want and questions i needed answering, i said Ah Ha, nope, and took a few steps to the side. this morning would be about gratitude. period. not about working through anything. not even a sculpture design issue. just. gratitude. the quietness of that time followed me as i walked through the silent house...even the usual creaky spots in the floor seemed quieter. i walked in a cloud of gratitude...pure gratefulness. to try to explain or verbalize would be impossible. but every iota of my being was vibrating with the joy for all i have...for all i don't have...for the quiet...for the silencing of the inner noises in order to feel the sameness, the connection with the creation around me. i know that sounds all mescaline, but i told you it was difficult to verbalize. it was a peacefulness and a knowledge that all is well, and will be well, no matter what outside appearances seem to say. i headed back up to the studio, ready to work. and just couldn't. i didn't want my mind distracted from the moment. so, what else to do? hit the shower. i do my best thinking in the shower, and thankfully, we have a hot water on demand system! and i thought soapy thoughts: what is my bliss? where is the golden thread that ties together the things that make me ecstatic? blissful? what are the things that feel authentic for me? who am i really? and you know, it always comes back to a parenthesis of things: service to others, making connections between those that need and those that have to give. simple. i am absolutely rocked to my core when i know my favorite wildlife rehabber needs, say, a sterilizer for her feeding tools, and i realize i am sitting on a motherload of them. and just know that it would be a mere question away to liberate one (legally). and maybe someone else needs xyz, and another has xyz. you get the point. i am pantingly ecstatic to be used in that way. and that, my friends, has become the next baby step. realizing where the path begins. where the third option sits in a gilded box, spilling open light and promise and authenticity for me. and hopefully a little rust. i also know that i miss my yoga practice. it is a lifeforce for me. it puts everything in perspective. what am i willing to bring to the table to trade for 2 hours off early, once a week? quite a lot. and i will propose this tomorrow. without my practice, the vines creep in and choke back the goodness. i look back on posts i've made since not being able to go, and i feel them slowly draining of spirit. i do feel pulled toward a more spiritual walk through this world - not a holier-than-thou thing...not a walk with blinders that can only see/speak of beliefs and prayer and meditation. just being me, only deeper, better...like the old, "BASF" commercials. "we don't make the _____, we make it better." there are 2 people in particular that i feel such an incredible pull towards...a knowing somewhere in my spirit that they will be important to my next baby steps. one person, i met once, but they stayed in my heart in ways that are so pure and demanding of notice...when we met, something in my hear told me that this person would become important at sometime in my life. the other, i rarely see, but have had a deep heart connection with for a very long time. i'm not sure what role they will play in my next steps, but will wait for it to play out to me, rather than chasing after something i know nothing about. so unusual for me! that hamster wheel can be addicting - you really think you're going somewhere, then you stop and realize - you're in the same place! sometimes it takes a 360 trip around the darn thing to make you get off (as if i've ever BEEN a hamster. but i've HAD them and have watched them, so i know from where i talk, nu). now, in the Strangest Thing I've Seen Today column: little decorative tissues with Shiva on them. at Tuesday Morning. i mean, would you honk on Jesus? (like the old bumper sticker). seems wrong and i'm not Hindu. (i don't think.) sending you big honkin' hugs y'all! xoxLinda

drops of jupiter & random thoughts

sorry -still no pics. next time. maybe. i hope. so the west coast gypsy woman had diva wake me up at 5am this morning. i've come to expect it. last night was a difficult surrender to sleep as i wrestled and teased out ANY detail of a new sculpture i have buzzing in my brain. i hate when they play hard-to-get...get all the anticipation up, then hide behind a list of mindless chores, much like a prom date with a chaperone...look but don't touch. after deciding NOT to do the face casting on myself (Amy pointing out that it would be a challenge after my eyes were covered. duh - who knew??) i was back at square one. the CrowWoman i had planned didn't have the right vibe for what i wanted. back to square -1. but i knew the emotion and the story i wanted to express. 1 step forward. now at zero. so at 5am, when only the crows were singing kirtan out my window - call and response - i spied the very item i needed in my heap of rusty stuff. the very item that fairly screamed PICK ME and became the inspiration for the rest of the piece. and then another. and another. and they all fit perfectly together...barely needing any joining work...like they were born to fit together in just this way, despite being formerly used in very different applications in their former lives. can i just say that i hate copycats in the worst way? that's why i rarely take workshops, unless it's to learn a specific skill that i know i can apply to my own work in my own way. that's why i rarely, if ever, invite people to my studio if i have a project in progress. i just hate seeing something so very familiar come from someone else's hand before i've had a chance to even finish mine. that's why you'll see semi-finished projects in my studio - they sit unfinished at the point where the good vibe went out of them and negativity came into the room. i'm not sure where that rant came from, but i'm leaving it because it seems important to. so...oh. the 3rd option. not forgiveness...not business-as-usual, as i feared it may be. i am willing to forgive with the depth of what i am able. but this time, forgiveness does not include forgetting and carrying on as if nothing happened. it means forgiveness to release the badness, and then moving on. and the third option is not about any of that. i need to let it solidify a bit more before i can verbalize it, but i am grateful from the smallest atomic part of me all the way to the largest (my ass, no doubt). (ok, so i'm not ready to shave my head, don a saffron robe, and be humble. unless i can swear every so often). i have to admit that sometimes nothing feels better than a great blue wave of profanity. it feels so...naughty. have you checked out Brian Andreas yet? www.storypeople.com. i re-read his book this morning as i searched for inspiration. very subtle. thank you again, girl posse, for again gifting me with your hearts and intentions. i'm growin' like a weed, dudeloves! so nice. and now...back to jupiter. xoxlinda

i really should post some pictures...you'll start thinking i have no life. oh wait... aaaaanyway...so my fortune cookie fortune continues to come true. i am being slammed with opportunities artwise. no complaints. i'm in my Fred Flintstone mode - too many ideas...running in place like the flintstone mobile. soon a quiet moment will render them organized. sunday morning - church in the closet...just quietudeness, gratitude, opening, listening. my life? right now the word in my ear is telling me: Wait. and i am (for once) listening. it's not a "hot flash backstep" wait. just a "hold on for some things to fall in place" wait. i am peaceful. despite the J5 in my earphones. i miss my yoga class. that hour-and-a-few just set things right. every so often at work i'll just strike a pose. mostly for myself. somewhat to keep them thinking. the mood of the workplace has changed. where there was once a family atmosphere, there now blows a red veil of greed. and that greed is demanding more than is humanly possible from all. where once happy people gave more than humanly possible, there now sits tired, disgruntled people. tears are a more common sight. with one out already on stress disability. i wait for the Third Option. heart open and expectant. i am grateful to you, girl posse, for holding my hands and making me skip to your tune. i am thankful for your gifts of music and art and words and glances and disturbingly funny emails and voice messages. i may take a drive to my Lake soon...i've written out my negativity and plan to rip it up and cast it into the lake to be taken away and cleansed. sometimes symbolic gestures are the most powerful. as simple as a cup of tea...as complex as a sculpture being brought to life. tonight, God help me, (and i mean it) i plan to try to lifecast my own face. which explains why i sit here typing in procrastination. although the exfoliating spa benefits intrigue me, i'm not sure our medical insurance can handle one more ER claim. between me and the stepdrinker, we seem to make beter use of that card than the Saks 5th that i have tucked away for when i want really good underpants. oh well, nothing ventured, nothing ripped from the bone by stuck plaster. okay - time to plunge in. wish me luck. xoxL.

pulling weeds and setting down roots

this has been an amazing month. after making the decision to break free from my life-as-we-know it, i expected to feel the chaos and torment that i usually do, and end up turning back and resuming the same old. but not so much this time. not at all, in fact. i feel centered, grounded, and at peace. i don't feel the need to stay on the phone for hours "trying out" ideas with friends. i just have a quiet certainty that this is the right direction. now the hard part: wait. rather than impulsively dive head first into the direction i know is right, i feel a hand on my shoulder gently nudging me one baby step, then wait, baby step, then wait. wait for what? clear direction on the next step. much like someone climbing a mountainside with a buddy rope, i feel i must wait until i see where to place my foot. this is new to me. this feels good. and while i wait, i see weeds being pulled around me...relationships that are weedy seem to dissolve. rather than the angry, nasty tossing aside of friendships or clothes that don't fit or outgrown supplies, instead there is a gentle wave goodbye. my neighbor had sent me an email earlier in the year stating that she didn't have time for our friendship any longer. now that it's spring, the neighbors are all out chatting and walking kids and dogs. i called her to see if she wanted to take a quick walk with me and Diva...just to establish a friendly, neighborly comfort. not to re-engage in our full out friendship (which was destructive to us both). she declined then re-emailed me and got nasty in telling me that we could wave from a distance but that was it. normally i would just let it slide and feel torn inside. instead, i replied with what my intention had been, and closed the chapter on that relationship. other things, too have been pushed aside, so that it is truly clear that my journey will take me from this house. and in accepting these things, other opportunities have arisen that astound me. i have been invited to participate in an art show in LA. now y'all know that something like that would include months of inspirationless hand-wringing and angst and feelings of unworthiness. this time - nope. i have a few ideas and need to sort out which one to do. not TOO MANY as usual, not TOO FEW as other-usual. and i know i have come to a place where, hell yeah, i'm worthy, and able. and what's worthy?? 'splain? so my prayer is for a nice little house for me and Diva, with studio space, and ridiculously affordable. i have my eye on a place, and am hoping the current people just move. stunning to me - i qualify for a great mortgage, and have some phenomonal women in my life helping me - realtor, mortgage person etc. i'm not sure i want the burden of a motgage, but will weigh it out when the need arises. my job...well...not so good. stable and secure. but it is my challenge right now. and after watching a particularly well crafted TV ad last night, i realized that i would love to make my career that of an advocate. i'm good at it. it's what i do. ever since beating up Steven on the kickball court when i was 8 years old. i'm in it for the underdog. or the underserved. or those who feel they have no voice. that's the part of my job i love now. it's all the pushback and documentation i sure could live without. so that's my update. in short: Life is good. got the t-shirt to prove it! xox Linda

thank you, Mary Oliver

The Fertile Void.

as i was saying...pt 2

on the way back from Boston, we took a detour to this little town that was made up of little shops...all local artisans. the guy in the grocerette said he is one of only 5 residents that are there all year 'round. Luckily, one of the others is the snowplow guy. in one of the gallery/shops, i came across some prints and books by Brian Andreas.. www.storypeople.com. bought some stuff, oh did i. at first i thought...what is this? with the accent on "is." then i read the narratives, and stood there teary-eyed as i read my life story as written by a child. a child - small person who's mind is not yet cluttered with "stuff." amazing. you'll love him. order every single one of his books. he has a picture of his family on the back cover, and you can see the kids grow up. here's one of his prints: well, the words: Is willing to accept that she creates her own reality except for some of the parts where she can't help but wonder what the hell she was thinking and In my dream, the angel shrugged & said, If we fail this time, it will be a failure of imagination & then she placed the world gently in the palm of my hand. and (to my Diva) She laid on my chest & her breathing filled me almost to beyond what I could hold i have his book, Strange Dreams, and a few prints. really cool stuff. Thank you Brian. the rest of the trip was vanilla following this. I am a collector of fortune cookie fortunes, because you never know. i've had one stuck on my bathroom mirror (next to where i stamped ants marching up the glass, much to my husband's horror) that says "Doors will be opening for you soon." trust it. it is. and i am walking through them in wonder, with a humble and grateful heart, and (finally) not feeling like an imposter. i am owning myself, and my life. and it really feels very cool. and the other fortune cookie fortune there is "now is the time to circle your mints." hunh. go figure. i wondered when. and with all this climactic drama going on, i feel drama-less. just settled, centered, ready. remembering Lot's wife, and looking forward. remembering Enchanted Forest, and being so excited to just BE there that as i ran toward Paul Bunyan, i turned to see where everyone else was, tripped, fell, ruined my favorite shorts set with the polka dots and applique tulip. not to mention little bleeding knees. so, i will walk forward LOOKING forward, and at my own pace. but one foot continuing in front of the other. and june 1st begins (again) my personal anti-smoking campaign. cross your fingers for me that this will be for keeps this time. who has the money, hunh? light sparks and blessings on y'all....time to glue some stuff! xoxLinda

the mind is a terrible disease

first...congrats to my dear broseph! he is now BMGMA! i am so proud...so many times he wanted to quit, when it seemed hard & pointless. but he followed through. now some random thoughts while i wait for glue to dry....am i the only one who's ever been asked to be a facebook friend by a Tibetan Monk? think of the whole thing here. when in our history would you think of the terms "Tibetan Monk" and "facebook" in the same sentence? do you now see the challenges i face just getting through my days?? (of course i said "yes" to the friend thing. you never know). someone (the hazards of age - it was either jen or swirly)(i think)had a little video posted on her site, and it hit me between the eyes. and now, i would like you all to know here and now that i have a crush on myself. you will be sick of hearing me say that, but it's very affirming. and when i'm having "a moment," i will say it out loud. and as often as needed. i have a few more thoughts, but Diva is wolf-howling to go out. so we shall. and i will return.

remember me??

yes - i'm still Amish. my computer has Pierre swearing in tongues. i am using the computer at the library, so still have no email. this is just a weird, weird feeling. i'm not sure when i'll be up and running again with any kind of certainty, so if you need to contact me, please use my cell voice mail. (home VM is dicey at best). today marks a big day for me, and i hope to share more soon, but pls keep those good, warrior woman thoughts headed my way please. i will need them for the next part of my journey. we'll talk soon. xox linda

1000 acts of kindness

last january, i made a secret resolution to myself to perform 1000 acts of kindness this year. then i changed it to 1,730...the extras were set aside for me...to be kind to myself twice a day for the year. sounds simple and almost pathetic - just twice a day? but when you think about how busy a day gets, it really is just right. the "me" kindnesses can be anything from a new, fragrant soap that fills the shower with sandalwood and cinnamon, or a new tea to sip slowly and savor(though God knows I own them all!), or a moment of meditation in the middle of the day. the other thousand? well, i may have to pull back or i'll overreach. those are far easier to do than taking those moments for myself. hmmm. it's just too damn fun to mentally tick something from the list..."okay 850 to go..." i suppose the usual 'holding the door' counts, but i am a person given to large acts...not content to just get by. i LOVE when a little wishing and planning and a lot of synchronicity fall together to form a bright ball of grandness and blessing all over someone. it's a huge crack high for me. i should work at make-a-wish...except for the sad part. so this wednesday, my life will be scattered to at least 3 of the 4 winds...i'm going to Boston...diva goes to grandma's...computer goes to Pierre's for a sleepover...car goes into the shop. i hope to gather all back in 1 piece...a better-than-before piece. including the piece going to Boston. i am fighting this S.A.D. with everything in me right now (Stepchild Affective Disorder) and aside from a permanently clenched stomach, blinding headaches, visible blood pressure, teeth ground down to nubs, nosebleeds and poison ivy, except for those things, i think i'm winning. hopefully there's a light left on for me elsewhere, 'cause this "here" is doing me no good. hunh...only took 7 years to screw up the courage to say that out loud. L.

this will be good! this has certainly been a year of art shows...today i picked up the remaining pieces from the Delavan....some going to their forever homes, some coming home with me. i felt so manly driving the uhaul! and i am exhausted so, goodnight! tomorrow i go visit a Very Special little Creature...my other love. shhhh! xoxLinda

hello and welcome to my friday

i've always tried, here in my little scrap of the world wide web, to be delightful. by that i mean not too depressing, although you must admit, my Path of Life has a lot of shade trees. and i try not to kvetch too too much, although genetically, it's an uphill battle. and lord knows how hard i try to keep a jupiter perspective ("if this were viewed from jupiter, just how important would it be?"). but i just need to say this: i have come to hate my job. there. i know a few of you are smirking knowingly...you've been waiting. it's just that i am so tired of people thinking they have to scream or besmirch the company in order to get free stuff or money back. stop it just stop it. my job title, for god's sake, is nothing less than fairy godmother. tooth fairy godmother. a person could call me up, give me their account number, and break into the final verse of Night Fever by the BeeGees, and i am supposed to give them all their money back. that is the nature and description of my job duties. you don't have to threaten to call your attorney (like any self-respecting lawyer would take on a case over a bill for $75), and just how much do you think "the principal of the thing" will cost you in billable hours?? unless you have been physically maimed beyond repair, then you have officially lost your right to yell in my ear. and for the record...i am not stupid, and i have never slept with your mother. a tasty tidbit of information has fallen into the wrong hands (mine) however. apparently, snicker snicker, when i push the "mute" button on my phone, it will continue to record my voice even though the party on the other end of the telephonic miracle cannot (hopefully) hear me. know where this is headed? now, when the recording (which is actually my voice work) says "this call may be recorded..." rest assured it is. and not for training purposes. it is so when they randomly select 3 of my calls to "score" every month, they have something to refer back to. there is a long list of 33 "smile points" i must include in my conversation with you if i am to win the prize: a bonus. however, just as anyone is about to grab that brass ring, they change the matrix points (their term) so it has not yet been possible to attain bonus. by anyone. so having more self-respect than need for the game, i opted out. in reality, you cannot officially opt out. i just don't care. truly and deeply. don't care. i don't look at my scores. i don't put on the headset and listen back, scoresheet in hand, trying for that extra nano-slice of a point that would get me on the path to financial righteousness and $300 closer to that beach condo and mazzerati. i just don't care. but what i do care about is tweaking The Listeners and Scorers whenever possible. and this, my friends, is where the beauty of the mute button became important. paired with an innate talent to talk out of both sides of my mouth, thanks to years working in radio with people i despised, i can carry on a seamless conversation with a dissatisfied customer, while hitting the mute button from time to time and pop off with something totally inappropriate. and the scorers and listeners have no idea, none, whether i said this TO the person or if i did in fact hit my mute button. except that the customer is still ranting unabated. today, i tried hypnosis. "i know you're listening...and it's sooo boring...it's late...you are getting sleeeepy...you are under my power...score this high or forever cluck like a chicken." i sang a few hymns, "this is my story, this is my song...praising my Savior all the day long." the people sitting near me are used to my Rain Man-esque outbursts and pay me no mind. and don'tcha know, today, the New new boss was listening with a listener so he could learn the ropes. what fun is this! yes, i've seen the commercial where the guy comes in to fix the mute button right after the boss gets dissed in a conference call. but sooner or later, it'll be time to leave this paradise anyway, and why not leave a legacy? not just The Girl Who Got Fired, but, didja hear the one about The Girl Who's Mute Button Didn't Work? so that part of my job is okay. so can you tell i've been feeling weary and weepy and not at all my Zen-like self? i think i know why. remember the gypsy woman from a post or two back? the one that whispers to diva to wake me up uber-early on saturday mornings to make art and have beautiful thoughts? well it works, however...diva cannot tell time. and dogs live by no man's calendar. so EVERY morning, she will begin waking me at 3am-ish, just in case. so by 5am, i just give in semi-curse, and get up and make art. i refuse to have beautiful thoughts that early though. and then it's too soon 7am, and so starts my hamster wheel. and when i leave the house at 9-ish, i feel homesick. and much longing. not only for my diva, who now has the benefit of some quality mom-time. but for my art. a lump forms in my throat. i want just one more hour in my studio, with it's morning light so perfect, and the quietness, and the smell of the paint and varnishes and found objects of every imaginatory kind. by 10-ish, i am in full passionate longing for some soft matte gel medium. and i am working harder at squashing resentment than i am at my job. add to this the fact that although it is at least a full month before poison ivy season, yours truly is covered from wrist to elbow in itching, oozing hivatiousnesss, and it's my right arm...the one that scrapes along the desktop while i manage the mouse. i could swear i reminded God that there already WAS a Job in the bible. so once again, i've prattled waay too long. so goodnight. and try to catch the double header at the Everson this sunday...Jim Ridlon collages & assemblages, plus 2 short films by Cornell (yes THAT Cornell...he made films. assemblage films). xoxLinda

every once in a while, if you are very very lucky...very lucky, a person will come into your life as you sit in confusion or fear or non-self-belief or underestimation of yourself. and this person (perhaps not of this earth) will push you and shove you and grab your ear and drag you towards your potential. you may survive. and if you do, perhaps a year later, (or maybe more if you are as stubborn as i am), you will look back for a moment and realize just how lucky, how very lucky, you are to know such a person. despite the I Love Lucy/Kramer/Seinfeld life that leads me, i must have done something very right last life around - i know a coupla people like that. now, the biggest ear-dragger is my angelfriend Georgia. she believed in me as an artist long before i even dared consider it. she'd introduce me to these incredible people as "her friend Linda who's an artist," just as casually as if she was saying i had brown(ish) hair. and i would proceed to swallow my tongue. so anyway, georgia is an incredible published poet. she hangs with the big guns - rather THEY hang with HER, if you want to know the truth. she is wonderful in every aspect and by any measure. her house is a gallery. her garden is absorbing. she is fearless and courageous in ways that would terrify me to think of for more than a moment. and she has a blog...you would love georgia. i do. and although, through her magic, i have met some of the most wonderful, dear, incredible women (like you), this post is about her tonight. and by "through her" i mean not only direct introductions, but also by her courage to become Me, Linda the artist, i have ventured into uncharted waters to meet you. so please let me introduce you to my friend, my manager, my cheerleader, my voice of reason, my kicker of my behind....Georgia Popoff, poet and friend. (her latest book, The Doom Weaver, is awesome!) xox L.