ah ha and surprise!

this is a quick test of the emergency blogger system...my computer is doing it's tantrum-in-the-grocery store routine, and i haven't been able to post. so i did what any mom would do - i ignored it for a while, and here we all are! WArning - my cap locks still have a mind of their own, so i apologize in advance if it seems like i'm shouting - i'm just not going to be bedeviled by backspacing and re-writing. honestly, technology. so recent developments in my surprise 50th birthday party have gotten me thinking about being selfish. that is - selfish vs. Self-ish. selfcentered vs. Self-centered. selfishness being the preening, mirror-gazing, not-sharing-your toys...or your Self. Self-ish being somewhat the opposite. to me, being Self-ish means to know your Self. your inner Self - your spirit, your soul, your mind. and in that comfortable, wonderful, confidence, there is freedom. freedom to express your Self. without fear of what others may think of you...freedom to just be you...your certainness about your journey, your path, your motives and decisions. and isn't that expression a way of sharing your Self? to be afraid to let ones art see the light of day, or beautifully crafted words such as my angel-friend's - now there would be the shame. fortunately the confidence born of knowing their Selves has brought beautiful works out to shine. confidence is not a brash clanging bell of a thing. it's a quiet assurance of who you are. it's knowing that you have a place in the world, and have a right to claim that place. it's knowing that you may be different from the one standing next to you, but that difference is just fine. you are you. and for a reason. arrogance is often mistaken for confidence, but i think arrogance is a smoke-and-mirror show for a great lack of confidence - a lack of knowing your Self....to curl your lip at others and look down your nose really reflects on your own lacking. why must some find joy in the weakness of others? to feel stronger? how sad. but once again i'm off track. so as i approach 50, i realize that i am Self-ish! but also a bit selfish. and maybe a morsel of childish. i'm not happy about it, but i may have struck a nerve with myself on this one. see, i have mentally planned this surprise birthday party for myself. word leaked out that something was already in the works, and i should "back off and enjoy the ride." this only set my wild imaginings to wilder imaginings. i have a list of guests posted on the 'fridge that i update constantly. people who are special to me. people i want to be with to celebrate this milestone. some may not realize how special they are to me - maybe we know each other through a mutual friend and met only once or twice, but their spirit spoke to mine and they remain an inspiration to me. other guests are sure not to be available, but, like the Dalai Lama & Ty Pennington, each is special for different reasons. i don't imagine a great schedule clearing for either of them, but hey, it's my party, ok! so back to my point - and there really is one! in my imaginings, i picture a wonderful room - warm, inviting, artful, spirit-ful. some jazz music, some of my brother's cool stuff that even I don't always get, good food - finger food & munchies, a great cake, flowers & candles, think evening wedding reception without all the pomp and garter-throwing...it's all about the ambience. my list only has about 40 people on it. not 1 person on it is invited because "i have to." all are dear to me in some way. well, here's where the struggle comes in. it came to my attention that the party being planned is from someone who does not know my Self. i know few details - actually just one detail - the setting. the rest can be imagined based on this 1 fact. i was filled with all kinds of silent, selfish drama when i discovered this. do i "sit back" and be grateful that the day would be remembered and marked at all? or do i intercede - gently (somehow) - and try to steer things in the direction i want it to go? as i talked to a friend about it, i sounded like a spoiled little child, and that made me sad for myself. on one hand, this year in particular has been such an amazing year for me. unexplainable, despite thousands of typed words. i want to honor the year, pay homage to the people and things that have brought such growth and enlightenment to me, in me. on the other hand....did i grow so much? is my selfishness on this point an indicator? now, i don't feel like it was all a sham. not at all. but i feel like i should have come a bit further. or have i? is accepting "less" a hallmark of Self-ishness? i expect the very best from myself in all situations every time and every where. not perfection - just my best. that "best" may vary on given days and given circumstances....but i expect myself to give the best that i am able to give at that moment. would the potential of hurting someone's feelings be worse than being able to mark this day, this year, in the way i'd like to see it done? would that be my best? i am reminded of Verushka Salt..."I want an oompa loompa too daddy!" stomp stomp. but how often do you turn 50? and how often is it that you can point to an entire year and say, "wow!" not the best year as far as smooth sailing - too many days to mark on a calendar with solemn remembrance. but the best year i have ever had in becoming Self-centered. ever. so the teeter-totter goes back and forth. and really, over quite a silly thing, given all the truly big troubles out there. i mean, floods and devastation have destroyed lives, changed entire cities and families.....and i'm having a throw-down about A BIRTHDAY PARTY. and a surprise one, at that! but...but....so what to do? last night i had a dream about a party at the Glenloch restaurant....dark, candlelit, wonderful, my friend Jen dancing on a table - as she is wont to do, and everyone brought me a kitten as a gift. where that part came from, who knows? i'm allergic and surely don't need another pet, but there you have it. and i woke up thinking that with all i could be dreaming about, THIS was the best i could do?? (well, the part with Jen was pretty funny. i've never know anyone with that much courage. scary courage). so maybe the year has already marked itself upon my heart. upon my spirit. and has taken up residence in my bones. and is a part of me. and is me. and maybe that was the important part. not the cake. not the room. maybe i've already been given the best gift of all by the Planner of All Birthdays...my Self. and that is good enough for me. hope all your days are Birth days. L. NOTE: it's not my birthday yet....i'll let you know....i got a few well-wishes after the Birthday Cake Rodeo post. no presents though!

tricksters and weavers

sunday morning...diva dog is at grandma's...it's early and crispy. i put on a tshirt, sweatshirt and windjacket - mostly for the large velcro pocket in front to hold keys, phone and cigarettes. time for diva's favorite walk, but just me. it's about 40 minutes - across the street and onto the path, then head around the pond/lake and into the woods. birds call, squirrels chirp and fuss. nuts hit me in the head as i walk under the tree canopy. my mind is restless. i feel slightly grouchy and out of sorts. who knows why? i want to know the source of my dis-ease. i start to ruminate, then realize that is the wrong path entirely. focusing on the the dis-ease will only perpetuate it. so i smile, and begin to look carefully at the abundance around me, and give gratefullness that i am able to share in it. i ask, "who will walk with me?" and wait to sense a presence or a gentle nudge in my heart from a beloved. a minute later, i spy a butterfly on the path...obviously hurt and trying to make it to the grass. i put my finger down for it to crawl on, with the intention of being a taxi for it. instead, it crawls up my hand and onto my sleeve. it's just magnificent! when it's wings are oulled tight together, it has the markings of a monarch, but the colors are slightly off....a two-fer - my "nikita sign" is a monarch, and this is the same "trickester" butterfly i was just reading about somewhere. when it opens it's wings flat, oh, the majesty! a black heart forms - half on 1 side of the body, half on the other. around this are small white squares that form a link around the heart. beneath that, the most amazing green/blue opalescent color i've ever seen. the butterfly is nicknamed "trickster" because it mimicks the monarch colors, and predators leave it alone. the monarch being a nasty, bitter meal for butterfly eaters. so, my walk buddy will be nikita, and my thoughts go back to ideas i started about doing an art piece about the coyote/trickster. the coyote is known as the trickster in Native American culture. haven't researched enough why, but it is. i wait a few minutes for the butterfly to gather it's wits and fly, but nothing doing. it crawls further up my sleeve. since it's wing has a chunk out of it near the bottom, i know it won't be flying anytime soon, and won't make the migration, which should be going on now. so i start walking again, figuring any minute we'll say goodbye. as i walk, the butterfly crawls down and perches on my finger, it's legs wrapped tight. it faces the front to see where we're headed, then turns and faces me. it's antennae wave a bit, every so often, and stroke my finger. then it turns back. when we get to a patch of sun, it spreads it's wings flat to pull in some warmth to it's body. i pause while he tans a bit. then on. 45 minutes later, i am almost home,and can't wait to show aunt debbie my new amazing friend. she'll "get it." she's amazing all on her own - very spiritual, Native American heritage, Feng Shui Master, artist, and very together. about 5 mins from the house, my butterfly starts walking up and down my finger, so i stop. he turns and faces me, opens and closes his wings a few times, and with a final wave, flies up into the tree. he could fly the whole time! he just wanted to walk with me. so now i knew that sunday was to be magical. i went home and called debbie...in the middle of the conversation she yells, "oh my God! Stevie Nicks is on tv and i think she was wearing your cape!" SHUT UP! so we sit breathing on the phone waiting for another glimpse, but no. we said goodbyes, and i picked up the paper to check...yes, i admit, the bride section. i also check the obits, since i have a better chance (at this age) of finding a familiar name there. nothing and nothing. ok. so i feel like i need to go somewhere - but where. The Pottery Fair leaps out at me from the STARS magazine. oh yeah! art AND nature all in one. i am so there. i guilt the husband into going, so i won't feel like i deserted him and we head out on the most perfect day. one of the first things i see is a bowl that i must own in my lifetime. my throat tightens, as tears fill my eyes - the colors sing to me....peach, blue, pink...which is strange, since i tend to be drawn to more earthy greens and rust. i look closer, and it's part of a series called Trickster! ah HA! again trickster! someone has put a tag in it that belongs to another bowl, and it says $22 instead of $220. i must find the artist...this can't be so. i look - Oh My God! this magnificent piece is made by an artist that my angel-friend Georgia JUST told me she wanted me to meet! hmm. twilight zone music, please. so i hunt her down, and the second i introduce myself, there is an instant connection. unexplainable. but palpable. she starts making all these words about loving the box i made for Georgia and blah blah blah. i'm blown a-way. tears form again in my eyes. hair stands up on my arms. i feel so validated and flattered and any good thing you could imagine. the creator of my bowl loves my work! yikes! we talk of a project upcoming and other things, but the energy is unreal. this is an Important Moment. my gut says this is the start of Something. but more like the continuation of something started ages ago and once again here. she has to go work at a booth, and we regretfully go our own ways for the time being. as i turn to go find my husband, i see an old friend from radio. we get chatting a bit, and i meet his wife. after all these years, i finally meet her! she is wonderful! grounded, warm, personable. she is earth. i like her a lot. he and i talk briefly about how we enjoyed working together, and he mentions how he feels like it was a missed opportunity for the station that they let me slip through their fingers. the 4 of us walk down the big hill to our cars, and i have a sense that the Weaver of All Things has been making a cloth that day, to be continued. threads of this and that being warped and wefted in....past and future being blended...things about to be, and things that were, that may be yet again. who knows? but the peace that had eluded me hours before had settled into my bones again - a sure sign of Magic. and if all of that wasn't enough, a free Harry Potter book was bestowed upon me...Potter at the Pottery Fair! Magic and more magic. so hit me over the head with it, just in case i'm not clear on the point! i am truly, immensely humbled every single minute in every single fiber of my being. i feel like i'm radiating good things. as the seasons have begun to change, so i sense a change in things to come. was it just last week that humidity and heat were pushing at my bones, challenging me to walk across the parking lot? and now, a snip to the air. fast fast are the changes. and so the feeling in my spirit - that changes will be coming fast. good things. like, tugging- on- a- parent's- hand -'cause -you- promised- we'd- go- to- the- circus fast. the urging to move to the next level, tempered by patience to wait for the path to become clear. what an exciting time. what an absolutely wonderful moment in my time. no, it hasn't been all cherries and peas....i've had some moments lately where i'd just as soon sleep the day away, or just felt so incredibly ordinary that i wonder who made the art that sits on my bookshelf. but i remember the Promise and smile. and feel truly blessed all over again. hey - thanks for reading. thanks for (hopefully) not thinking i'm incredibly self-absorbed. it's just all so new. so fresh. so very very chocolate. L

unspeakable

i've been trying to figure out a way to write the un-writeable. i thought if i sat down and started plinking away at the keyboard, the words would come. but i was mistaken. the things that have stirred in my spirit, in my soul, the past year continue to transform my life, my path, my self. imagine your best day...you feel great, people respond to you overwhelmingly wonderfully, you get that parking space up close, AND you find/win a chunk of money. now multiply that by 10...by 100...or by infinity. that is how things have been going. and it isn't that the circumstances have changed in my life, (and no, my 6 million dollars has not yet been placed in my hands!) and yes - i have had some very stressful days. but my reaction to them has shifted. they no longer control me - they are not a part of my path. i am able to push them back away from me. and funny thing - negative things seemed repelled by my joyous new nature. and to say "joyous" is not the right word...see, i knew this would be difficult to write. it's a deep, centered feeling of peacefulness and faith. these two powerful elements overcome any doubt, fear, uncertainty, powerlessness, inadequate feelings, feelings of failure, feelings of being a fraud, feelings of whatever. that list has the word "feelings" in it a lot. what i discovered as diva dog and i took a beautiful morning walk, is that they are just that - feelings. close your eyes and touch a shiny piece of polyester. "feels like" silk. but it isn't. it's a trick of the mind. (easier to wash though). the mind - often bolstered by naysayers around us - tells us we "feel" unhappy, or we "feel" ugly or whatever. kind of like the "tastes like chicken" theory. ever feel downright angry or depressed or just plain blah? make yourself smile. that was something else i learned. if "feel-ings" can trick me one way, why not beat them on their own turf? just a big smile. doesn't have to be genuine. hold it for a few seconds. kind of gets things moving in the right direction. you feel pretty silly and start to kind of laugh at yourself a little. getting closer. the transformation part is unexplainable, though. this is the after-burner part. the lessons i've learned in the past year - especially the past 5 months - have been fast & well, not furious, but you get the point. as i take a baby step in faith and centeredness and trusting myself to know myself, good & great things have opened up to me...relationships healed...others put to the curb where they belonged...still others continuing, but this time with boundaries. what a glorious life i am having at this moment in my journey. i hate using cliches and buzz words, but again, it's unexplainable. i feel like there is a destination i'm heading to and am getting ready along the way....sort of like changing clothes in the taxi, i guess. there was another time in my life when these challenges and changes presented themselves to me, but i was closed to them. i was still looking in other directions for what i've been given. this time, i didn't resist. i had the courage, and the life-knowledge to accept in what was true to me, and push back what didn't ring clear. i was ready to become myself without fear of who that may be. seems like a fair deal - give up all the illusions and crud in your life in exchange for peacefulness, self-love, one-ness of spirit with whatever/whomever you call God. a great cost? you betcha. worth it? you double betcha. a lot of conscious hard work, but the reward is sweet and tasty. i worked with a girl named Patty. Whenever you asked "how are you?" she'd say "perfect!" and the way she said it just makes me smile to think it. sorry to say, patty, but i stole that from you. it made me feel so good to hear it that i figured i could pass that on. and it's worked. people smile when i say it...they may be thinking "the audacity!" or they may just take the same simple pleasure in the word that i did. either way, it makes me think of Patty, so I smile. i'm off track, as usual, but am realizing it was pointless to try to speak the unspeakable. here's my advice: take a nice long walk along a shaded path with the sun's rays peeking through the tall treetops...sense everything...the smells of the cedars, the flowers sweetly warming in the sun...the moss...watch the butterflies tangle and play...the dragonflies as they hover nearby and check you out...listen to the calls of the different birds - and the answering song from another treetop....reach out and touch the spiky pine needles..., the soft snapdragons with their velvety orange and pink ....the rough shaggy bark. do this. take in each and every whisper from nature. be thankful and respectful of all that you have in that one tiny moment. that's where the starting gate is. L.

love & intimacy

so is it love or intimacy that we seek? most men say love (read: sex), most women seek intimacy...a deep spiritual connection of the soul. a broad, sweeping generalization? maybe, but it is MY blog, after all. and after spending 2 wednesdays by the broad, sweeping vastness of my Lake, i'm given to fits of largeness. have i always been capable of love? yes. yes. now, intimacy - that's a whole different box of crayons. no. i have guarded my most private self. shielded it from everyone and everything. like a fine porcelain doll given by a grandmother to a child to save....not to share. kept it safety-sealed for protection from even those with every right to expect it. a simple hug broke that seal. a genuine heartfelt hug. one of those "i want to melt into you and become a part of you" hugs. and isn't that what intimacy is? becoming a part of the other person. joining, or re-joining, the heart, the spirit, the bond. re-tying loose threads. finding where the nooks meet the crannies in your psyche. i can say i've loved my mother. but have never allowed her the intimacy of myself. and never allowed her to share the intimacy of herself with me. i can say i've loved my brother. and i have - with a fierceness that only an older sister can have. but untill the three of us shared hugs on the shore of my Lake, i can't say that i've shared more than my thoughts, dreams, disappointments of whatever moment, joy of whichever success. a great start, but not intimacy. you can share all those things with a stranger on a call-in radio show. intimacy cannot be quantified. you can spend every day of your life with a person and not allow them intimacy. conversely, that friend who lives across the continent can share the imtimacy of your soul. the word "intimacy" is often swapped out for "sex" in polite company. and they can be the same - when the only way you are able to express the gratitude you have for the other person sharing their inner self is to do so in a physical expression. (now let me stop here a second with a disclaimer: there was no sexual activity between we 3 family members. none. that is just creepy if you thought that. ). now back to the rant. i had thoughts tinkling around my brain about love vs. intimacy for a while. how is it that i can say "i love you" to someone and it may as well be "don't forget your sweater?" yet have friends - male and female - that i feel intimate with? is it because they allow me to be me, and celebrate the "me" that i am without trying to smooth down the edges or touch-up a little faded paint here and there? is it because we are kindred in some way? share deep emotions about a particular subject, or way of thinking? maybe both. and more. in my younger days, i have had sex with men who had passion about things that i had passion about, but there was something sustaining that was lacking. i have also felt moments of deep compassion and understanding with a person and felt very intimate with them. but for that moment. what sustains intimacy? does it need to be fed? can it come and go? once discovered, is it always there, but sometimes buried under obligations and appointments and laundry? can it be cultivated, or must it grow wild? rooting at whim and where. what sparks it? why are there moments when i look into my dog's eyes and see her very thoughts (as i imagine them)? see her pure love. is pure love part of intimacy? the love that accepts without judgement, that opens itself without reservation, that expects no payment or return on investment. i think you need one to have the other, with the 2 neck-and-neck in the chicken/egg question. what is intimacy with a love that takes? what is pure love with no intimacy of the soul? is one the resting place for the other? the result of? the condition of? so as the waves lapped and answered one another farther down the shore, we 3 became intimate, unashamedly, with one another. and i have the pictures to prove it. L

just breathe

this is sunset on my Lake...completely unretouched or photoshopped....just Nature showing off! you can't help but just stare and breathe deep of it's majesty. wednesday, mom & i are heading back there. she loved it! The calm of the water sounds is better medicine than i can almost bear. this week heralds a few landmarks: my brother has been invited. and it is also the last official vacation day i have for the year. so a decision must be made....to continue taking wednesdays off could put my job status in jeopardy. to stop taking mom-time would be so very wrong. not just the new-found friendmother i've come to know, but the feeling of "i can get through this" i now have at my job....i mean, every day is either a thursday or a friday when you have wednesday off, right? the time is too sacred to me to waste. and such a backward step it would be to give this time up. okay, i guess that's solved! my brother had hinted that he wanted to join us. since it was, technically mother/daughter time, i thought he should get his own day of the week with her. but i posed the thought to her, and she felt it would be okay this week. so wednesday, the 3 of us will head to the double-secret spot by the Lake. mom with her sporty new Croc shoes. the sheer vastness of the Lake brings intimacy. my wish is for a healing of hearts and an opening of communications - in that quiet, subtle way that is oh so very sweet and balming. a nice quiet restful time for souls and minds and thoughts. to lay it at the waters edge and let the waves pull it out and bury it for all time. mmmm. it feels like another tasty day. eat it up. L.

my Lake!

my wednesday date with mom was absolutely perfect! after 2 weeks of threatened rain, we decided to throw caution to the wind and go anyway. 8am, we drove to the double-secret-secluded spot and set up our chairs on the Lake's edge. just 1 small patch of sand to share. it was perfect. as the waves teased in to the shore, our chairs sunk lower and lower, but we didn't notice, or care. pantlegs rolled up, shoes and socks thrown behind us, gulls screeching above, we closed our eyes and just breathed the moment into our souls. i had bought a disposable camera weeks ago with the intention of capturing our wednesdays together, but have found that it would do them a disservice. how do you record such memories? how would it be possible to capture such spirit on mere film? to look back at the pictures would surely diminish the memories woven into our hearts with golden thread. it's been 50 years since the umbilical cord was cut, but the same tie remains - each giving and taking life from one another...understandings and shared stories strengthening and aligning...ah ha - that's where my gypsy spirit comes from...maybe some art from this one or sensitivity from that one or a quick temper with those who impede. but all that aside, to be able to freely love the one who gave me life is unexplainable gift. it's funny - no earth-shattering conversations take place...no confronting the past or judging the present. it's as if we were both finally ready to simply accept the other as they were...the parts we liked, the parts that annoyed us, the parts we wished would changed. all one. part of the same gift. we talk of nothing, or talk of family history - the way back history. not our history together, so much. that had periods of such pain and confusion and bad behavior. there was a choice: confront and have a tearful, emotional coming to terms, or simply silently forgive and move on - enjoy the time that's left. i chose to move on. to re-visit the past would serve no purpose now. 30 years too late for that. and really, who cares anymore? has nothing significant happened in either of lives since then? we talk of positive things and feelings about ourselves and our lives and goals and wishes and dreams. we talk of nothing. and everything. as the waves lap at our feet, calming, pulling at us to be more than we are...leave the sand on the beach, the crumbs to the gulls, adventure out of ourselves and be more. reach higher. expect more. give more. yes - take more. the sun rose high and strong above us, and we shook the sand from rolled pantlegs and rinsed between our toes. packing up was much slower than unpacking. we walked in silence, heavily laden with heart-shaped rocks and smooth stones from the shore. the drive home, too quick. more hugs at the driveway than i remember in the past 30 years. making up time. our silent promises to each other. gifts of cards hidden in purses to be found by the other later in the day. a plan to return next week. to let the waves cleanse our minds and souls and baptise us in the spirit of one another...mother and child...mother and daughter...a daughter's daughter grown with a daughter of her own - wishing she had had these times with her own mother. friends. at last, friends.

coming soon....

yep it's true...i'll be teaching a workshop in beautiful downtown Bridgeport! Altered Book Shrines. sept 15th from 11-2ish. i made 2 samples up - my usual down n dirty distressed looking book, and then tried really really hard to do a "nice" one with pinks and buttons and glittery foofy stuff. it came out .....okay. maybe a little better than okay, but it's hard for me to judge, being the junk-meister that i am. anyway, space is very limited, so if you have an interest, call the store ...Stampin N Scrappin Time. This should be a lot of fun! I tried to use my neighbors jigsaw to cut through a hard-cover book and about 200 pages of inside stuff, and BLAMMO! it caught fire. very cool indeed, but a little theatrical for an indoor class, so we'll stick to soft cover books. anyway, i am totally wiped out right now...am on antibiotics (which i hate taking) and the side effects from those are less than appetizing. i managed to get away with just 2 days at work this week! a very good week, if i must say. wednesday with mom was short & sweet...we had breakfast at a diner, then sat by the river watching geese (which demanded food, then bit us when we had none) and a heron, and some baby ducks...all going about their busy morning. so peaceful. it made me homesick for my Lake. it's funny, here we are - 2 grown women acting like birds that have been caged so long....the door is finally left open, and we don't know where to fly first, so we stand on the perch looking out. not leaving. but it's been good...we needed time to adjust to, and enjoy our new views of each other before adding the distraction of an adventure. the clouds have been threatening the past 2 wednesdays, so we stayed close to home. next wednesday - the Lake! no matter what. it was mom's choice. it's been time well spent after we part ways for the day, also. i've been purging through my studio like a woman on a mission...many bags of stuff went to the curb. it's kind of like an archaeology trip -sifting through years of papers and stickers and art supplies that have been on hand for 10 years or so....i look at some things and wonder who bought this? my style has changed so much. as have the materials i use. funny, how part of the day i purge the demons of the past with mom, and the rest of the day i've been purging my art stuff. traveling light? not really....because in each instance, something new replaces something tossed. all good in both cases. i'm afraid i won't have enough time to finish all the work i want to do. the ideas come rushing and demanding to be brought to life. i need more time. more space. in my life, i've been making room...clearing away the stuff that no longer has usefulness to me...out to the curb with decorative papers and glittery glues along with aught feelings and old resentments. in both sets of piles, i'm glad to give it a kick and a shove. room to breathe and grow and experience. new skin healing over old wounds. sort of a life-exfoliation, for the spa minded among us. diva dog is at camp Grandma's for the night. i'll miss her entirely. she's felt slighted the past few weeks as i've been so focused on clearing and creating. every so often i feel a paw tapping at my knee, and she looks at me with hope for a hug. so we snuggle for a few minutes - never enough for her, of course. our nighttime routine always includes a belly rub for her, in exchange for a thorough hand washing for me (doggie style of course). she has taught me such patience....she has so many issues and needs, coming from her rescued background. yet she's learned to trust me, and love me. she senses a person's inner intentions, i think. there are some people that she does not like. period. and fears, even though they've never done anything to warrant her fear. they just send out angry vibes to her. that has taught me a lot too. people sense the same things, just more muted. dogs don't have the distractions of life that we do. but right now, i'm distracted by the thought of my pillow. an early morning will call. sleep well, y'all. L

monday monday

so it's monday...but really thursday for me, since i have wednesday off. what a great thought! hubby is out of town, and all weekend i kept dreaming of having the house to myself. au contraire. stepson decided to stay with the visitation schedule (even tho the vist-ee was gone) and thinks he'll be staying here this week. hmm. puts me in an interesting position. tell him to go to his mom's, and look like The Evil One, or suck it up since he'll be gone most of the time (theoretically). something about a no-parents-home house and 18 year olds who just graduated...don't mix. we'll see. maybe i'll invite my mom over with her church ladies to hold a revival in the livingroom at high noon! sounding better. my neighbors just had a baby. actually, the wife did all the work, but the baby lives with them both. they also have a 2-year old that the entire neighborhood claims as their own...it takes a cul-de-sac to raise a child. the neighbors are tired and cranky with each other. the baby fusses. isn't it amazing how 1 life can effect everyone around it? hmm. i wonder what effect i've had, if any, on the places i've worked or the people i've met? there are people i've only met once, but have had such a profound effect on me, or made such a difference in my outlook, that i'd invite them to my surprise birthday party. (the event of my life). there is one girl that i met at an art event last year that just "took." no, no...she wasn't an emotional "taker".... something about her just clicked with my spirit. i consider her "friend" even tho i've never seen her since. it makes me careful to think about the effect i leave behind. my stepson's current favorite cliche is "i'm just leavin' my footprints...nothing else." (well, except dirty dishes in the sink and load upon load of laundry). don't we all "just leave our footprints" for others to follow or veer away from? think about a person you considered a role model. what was it about them that made you want to reach a little higher to be like them? what was it about them that made you want to be your best self? there are people i have met, and really tried to like. and just couldn't. i wish them no ill, but i just become a cranky crabby nasty person when i think of them. they are not terrible people...in fact a lot of people think they're wonderful. but something about them just rubs me the wrong way. it happens. so, do we go thru life trying to be all things to all people? no. that would be incredibly hard and fake...just be your best self...that's all we're charged with doing. that best self was put here for a reason. just like gears that fit together to make a machine run...this one fits with that one. if 1 gear gets a burr or a crack, suddenly it doesn't fit, and the machine doesn't run. so trying to be something you aren't "doesn't fit." i spent years thinking my art wasn't good enough because it wasn't like this one or that one. figured i'd never have talent. it was when i realized that i have my own art, my own voice, my own spirit to express...well, that's when the magic happened. do i copy other artists? never. but i do continue to grow and experiment with new techniques and materials. i may pick up a tip from someone else, but the result HAS to have my voice, or it just doesn't work. same with people. you learn from one or another, good or bad, but you incorporate that lesson into what is already perfect - yourself. i tried to explain to hubby that i was glad i didn't marry "a husband." a person trying to fulfill a role they thought they needed to be in. i'm not sure if he got it. in a family, there's always "the good kid" the "bad kid" the "artist" the "smart one" the ...whatever. athlete. shy one. you get the point. and once you're typecast, it's hard to break out of that role. it's funny when i see friends from years past...how they relate to me...how they seem uncomfortable when i react differently than they expect. my friend in new york is probably still amazed that i ever came to vist her when she lived in texas since i could barely make it across town without having a panic attack when she lived here. (follow all that?) i missed out on a lot then, but learned about boundaries too. physical and emotional. drink it all in, but only go back for seconds on the good stuff. you could say there is no "bad" since it only becomes a lesson. these past few months have been like a crash course in "me." i finally got to know myself, not the person i "should" be, and now have a chance to get to know those around me in a much deeper way. all those years as a reporter - asking probing questions to the unwilling - taught me how to listen. i just got tired of it and stopped. now i can listen with true intentions, and it's energizing. speaking of tired, diva dog is barking me to the bedroom. that dog knows how to tell time, and 9pm is her bedtime. that's when she gets on the bed and starts trying to lure me in with an exposed fuzzy belly. if that doesn't work, the barking begins. so off to comfort 4paws o' love. sorry to ramble and redirect so much tonight....just wanted to touch base with no particular place to go. sleep well.....L

BEHOLD

my favorite word for today...BEHOLD! makes you stop and look around, eh? not a word that fits easily into most conversations, but one of those cool words you roll around on your mental tongue like a root beer barrel. you can't just go around yelling "BEHOLD!" unless you work at the Renaissance Fair. i have been a word-o-phile since i can remember. when i was young - even before my brother came to torment my life - (kidding bro) - we didn't have 2 nickels to rub together to make a dime, so my mom and i would walk to the nearby library and get a stack of books. we'd sit outside in the summer, or in this floppy barcalounger with the stack beside us and she'd read read read. a high energy misbehaving child such as myself could be easily tamed with a few words..."one fish, two fish, red fish, blue fish." dr.suess has been elevated to sainthood by many a mother in the 50's and early 60's. horton hears a who....hop on pop....green eggs and ham....all good friends of mine thanks to those suessian summers. so i began reading early. and books became friends, and travel machines - taking me to places in my mind - alongside Nancy Drew (but not the real scary ones), albert einstein, mrs. who & mrs. which & mrs. where (wrinkle in time). words were, and are, so important and tasty...a new word could be savored and tried on for size. descriptive words like "popcorn" - now who doesn't hear it popping and smell the butter when you hear that word? later, in my teens, words could be used to show just how cool i was, or how angry - those 4-letters could really make a statement. it's funny how language changes...some words fall out of fashion, or become obsolete. new technology replaces old technology, so the words needed to convey ideas about the old are tossed along with them....when was the last time you "churned" butter? that word is still useful in other applications, but i bet the user has no clue about the butter thing. remember when we'd "dial up" a friend? dial phones....now try to describe THAT to a teenager. the first push button princess phones...i remember them well. it seems that "old fashioned" speech was much more formal...much more polite, for the most part. now, with words hitting you from every angle, words - and talk - is literally cheap. (my current cell bill aside). need to get ahold of someone? fax, phone, cell phone, text message, page, sky page, instant cell connection, IM, email...remember sitting down to write a letter? weighing your thoughts and words and practicing your handwriting? having to actually lick an envelope, buy a stamp, and get the letter to the mailman? in a few days, or a week, the letter would reach it's destination. what you wrote had better have staying power....so you were careful with your words. you may not get the opportunity to take them back for another few weeks. so BEHOLD! look around! what do you see?

follow your peas

okay...ahhhhhh. nice deep breath. whenever i hear the phrase "follow your peace," i think "peas" instead, for a funny visual of a girl walking behind a row of animated green peas. which brings me to my point....or at least headed in that general direction. have you ever misplaced something important? like car keys? or a shoe? you're frantically searching high and low, and inevitably SOMEone says "where did you last see it?" and you want to commit a high felony upon their selves. my friend had a grampa who was constantly misplacing his glasses. and they were always on his head, hooked behind his ears. she'd see him patting his pockets and looking around and she'd say, "grampa...head." and he'd reach for his forehead area and there they were. (her kids grew up calling him "Grampa Head" because they heard that phrase so often they thought it was his name. i had an uncle "sam the garbage," but that's another story). well, my friend Brenda has been the repository of many a frantic late night and early morning, and mid morning and afternoon call. usually they start out with "i don't know what to do....this is huge." after listening to me babble and freak for a while, she will inevitably come up with some incredibly wonderful, logical 1-liner that makes the whole situation shrink down to a manageable size. about 10 years ago, her advise on a particular topic was "follow your peace, Linny." so basically, this whole wednesday off/quit my job, art vs "real" job dilemma came back to following my peace. so...where was the last time i felt the peace? when i decided to take wednesdays off ...period. so that's my decision. till the middle of august anyway. then my vacation time runs out and hopefully by then i'll have a clearer idea of my path. with that relief in my heart and head, i can now enjoy my time. the 1st wednesday was wonderful. i had planned a picnic breakfast in my secret spot by my Lake. unfortunately, Mother Nature planned a major thunderstorm in that very same spot. we compromised and went to Denny's and then i showed mom my dream house (which is now for sale!). i gave her a notebook for her thoughts, and she gave me her heart...as we pulled into the driveway back home, she said she wanted to share her deepest darkest secret wish ...the thing she would do if she could do it all over again. scared that i might laugh or tell her all the reasons it would never have been possible or logical or valid, she rambled through a lengthy preface before getting to the heart of the matter. (sound familiar?). i was so shocked by her wish, that i couldn't think of a thing to say. i would have never guessed. ever ever. never. but it involved work in another country. so i promptly went to Barnes & Noble and bought her a laminated full-color map of the country. tied a bow around it and left it by diva dog's leash. when she saw it the next day, she was thrilled that she had been heard. i mean, who's to say? maybe she is/was needed in that country doing the work she dreamt of? there are plenty of people that "know" me that would be shocked that i worked in radio. or am an artist. or ever found anyone with the patience to be married to me for more than a minute. so far my mother has taught me: don't ever discount other people's dreams, and don't ever ever stop loving them. never. school's out. be blessed. L.

sideways and flyin'

sorry about the sideways pic in my last post...i was trying to hurry before the HUGE storm blew through, and selected the wrong picture. the right one is the same one, but you don't have to turn your computer on the side to see it correctly. so where were we? oh - flyin' ....through life that is. lately. as Paulo Coelho says in his book The Alchemist..."beginner's luck." it's when everything in the entire universe seems to line up perfectly and logically for you....the weeds and tall grasses part like the Red Sea, and your path is cleared.....then you hit the weeds again. not as high, though. but you have to stay very focused on the path to see where you need to be. a misstep could lead to another path, not necessarily ruin and desctruction, but a different path. after seeing the castle at the end of this path, i can tell you it's where i want to be. true to myself. my self. inner me. the heart, the soul, the spirit in me that makes me ...me. in church i was taught that the Holy Spirit lives in me. dwells in me. has taken up residence with no forwarding address or plans to move...in me. where have i been taking that spirit? what has it heard me say and feel? as much as it grieves a parent to see their child suffer needlessly, i believe my spirit has suffered. i have been given such wonderful gifts for use in my life. and i haven't respected them or used them. that is the shame here. have you ever given someone something for Christmas or a birthday that you spent days looking for? you were sure this was to be the gift of gifts....it would show the person how much you cared about them - that you bought them something they would put to good use, or get such joy from having. and they clearly didn't have the reaction you had hoped for. that's the same feelings i'm talking about here. my art...and not so much even the physical representation of the object i make, but the spirit that it touches as it's being made...that is the thing being squashed down here. i quandry back and forth within myself...feeling so strongly that i "gotta be me," then equally as unsure if i'm not just being selfish. people have to work in order to have houses and cars and things. but what if they could do with less? or what if they actually "succeeded" even more? what if the work they needed to do in order to be the person they were put here to be has nothing to do with timeclocks and cubicles and computers and such? what if their office were, instead, the world? the culmination of emotions and scents and tactile experiences from any given day rolled into a piece of artwork? would that be so bad? so selfish? so undeserving of a notion? do only the spouces of the wealthy get the luxury of being artists or actors or writers or fill-in-the-non traditional-blank. am i lazy? not a chance. but i do know that my spirit is energized to the point of mania when i am in the zone - making art. have you ever watched a guitar string after it's been plucked? the vibration is what makes the beautiful tone...theoretically. i say this with full knowledge that an 18-year old with a new guitar and Tom Petty on the brain can dissolve that metaphor in 2 notes. but let's see past that. so once again, i re-argue the same points with myself....that i AM an artist. that my art is worthy of being made. that i am worthy of making my life as an artist, and not a customer service rep for a very scary dental operation. so where's the problem? oh....same old fear. not of failure. fear of reaction and retribution. and roadblocks being thrown up. do i feel like i need permission? yes. why? training? hmmm...maybe worth a look. today - the 1st wednesday with mom - my mother told me her biggest dissapointment was that she never got a chance to realize her most secret deep down dream. it's her secret, so i can't tell you, but in order for her to attain that dream now would take some doing. i will never be the one to say "it's too late" but if you knew the secret, you'd almost think the same thing. sometimes it is too late for our dreams. i don't want that to happen to me. you can get to a point when your body says it's too much - it just is asking too much of flesh and bone. it made me sad, not just for her, but also for myself, that i almost let the same thing happen to me for the same reasons. a person who doesn't believe in you. an important person in your life - either emotionally or legally. or both, i guess. i am my mother's daughter in so many ways. but this is not a way i want to follow. compromise is an option, but on my terms. so many opportunities have crossed onto my path lately...in the past few weeks, actually. i have to stay focused on the path, and follow them. i mean, a castle at the end.....what's not to love about that? L.

so what have i been up to?

if you've followed this blog for any amount of time, you may have noticed my running obsession with Time. the idea of time....how i spend my time....wasting time....how time changes a person or thing, etc. well, sometimes, time runs short. that is the beating-around-the-bush message i've been getting from my mother, now that i've "taken time" to listen. who knows? is it just a hunch? a feeling? is it right or wrong? i hope wrong. but meanwhile, if that's the message she wants me to have, then that message needs to be respected. so i've taken steps to insure that "lost time" is made up for. beginning next week, i'll be taking wednesdays off work in order to have "mom time." the thought came to me quietly, yet insistantly, over the past week. actually, thursday morning i awoke with the thought that i don't have "enough time" to see & do all the things i wanted. so throughout the day, a running list of things i would like to "spend more time on" kept weaving through my day. one of those things was "spending time" with my new-found mom. how would we ever get to coordinate our schedules? i needed to have "more time" as it is with my art. the becky home ec-y stuff was in a sad state. the only thing on my list that was "stealing" most of my time like a robber was work. by thursday evening, it was clear that i needed to modify my schedule. there would have to be a shifting of how i "spend my time" from things that will be more permanent (a job - somewhere) to things that will not be. it was surprisingly easy to decide. it felt very very right, and in the flow of the Journey. before i could even start rolling the mental tape with worries about money, or husbandly recriminations, a large insistant thought dominated..."The money will come." and with that thought came such a peaceful reassurance. as i headed toward the doors at work on friday, i knew i had to let my boss know that morning. a nano-second of financial panic started, but "the money will come" shoved it aside. 2 steps later, the warm sun glinted off something on the pavement. a nickel. an omen. i approached the director and told her "i've been given a wonderful gift." she was excited for me and asked what. I said i had been given the gift of time. i told her my mother had been indicating to me that she felt her time is short, and she would like to spend more of it with me. what deeper love is there, then to share something so precious that's in such short supply? i explained that beginning next week, i would have to modify my work week to dis-include wednesdays. meanwhile, i was secretly amazed at my boldness to take this step. and the calm clarity of it all. it was absolutely logical and right, even though on the face of it (given my current situation) illogical and very wrong. and wonder of wonders, she understood immediately and completely. we talked of other options, such as working longer hours on the other 4 days, or a saturday, but none of that seemed right. it may make more sense sometime, but not now. i needed to be fresh and rested and centered for mom-time. who knows what the bigger bosses will think? but i am serving a Boss who's bigger yet, and i have confidence that this move will only bring prosperity in one way or the other. i worried how husband would react, and admit i haven't told him yet. my neighbor (also in a fast cab on her Journey) said she has a Feeling that he will be fine with it. it is. it just is. this is where i need to be right now. i hope he understands, but i can't change what i know to be right. to do so would be disrespectful to Time. mom & i are giddy with plans....i want to show her my Lake - from the secret spot - at sunrise. we plan daytrips to corning glass, and learning how to bake bread, and more knitting. maybe some days, just early breakfast and then part for the day to our own devices. but that day will be sacred to one another. such a gift i've been given. i am unable to express my gratitude in thoughts or words of this earth. grateful also for the circumstances that have put me in a mindset to see and hear the call of the sweet gentle voice telling me that although you can "spend" time, and "waste" time, and time can be "stolen" and "made".....you can never "save" time to "spend" at your convenience. there is no shelf life on time. it is, then it's gone. evry passing moment, is a moment that has passed. it won't return, and it cannot be saved for later use. so the Journey continues....i walk the path not knowing what is to come, but grateful for the guidance along the way, and from time to time, the sweet smell of the rightness of it all. L.

addictions & reflections

i am a person of addictions. good ones and bad ones. but there are just certain things i cannot live without. cigarettes, as you may have read earlier, unfortunately are one. but the good ones outweigh the bad-for-you ones. magazines. i must have hundreds piled around my house, despite semi-regular purgings. early early mornings, though not necessarily an addiction, are an essential part of my days off. 4am, 5am. when i'm the only person awake in the whole world. me and little diva dog, that is. and eventually birds and squirrels and chipmunks. the other is books. i have to have at least 2 good books at the ready. if i'm getting near the end of one, and don't have the next one picked out yet, it makes me uncomfortable. so it stands to reason, given the volume of volumes i read, i'll end up with a "sacred selection" of books that are like best friends. i'll never lend them (sorry), and keep them in a special place of honor next to my bed. today i went to Barnes & Noble and grabbed one with an interesting title. can i tell you....this is the Book of Books. the read of a lifetime. sacred of sacred books. you MUST go now and get it. The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho. even the title fits with my current life...my favorite artist, Michael DeMeng, talks about being an alchemist in his new book. i came across a real find recently at a junk shop - an old alchemist cabinet. so the whole alchemy thing is voodoo-ing it's way thru my life. i'm only on page 29 and can tell this is a call-in-sick-to-work book. here's part of the prologue (you remember the story about Narcissus - the boy who knelt at the lake every day to gaze at his own beautiful reflection? one day he fell in and drowned and a flower grew in that very spot. here's where we join up...) When Narcissus died, the goddess of the forest appeared and found the lake, which had been fresh water, transformed into a lake of salty tears. 'why do you weep?' the goddess asked. 'I weep for Narcissus,' the lake replied. 'Ah, it is no surprise that you weep for him, for although we always pursued him in the forest, you alone could contemplate his beauty close at hand.' 'But...was Narcissus beautiful?' the lake asked. 'Who better than you to know that,' replied the goddess in wonder. ' after all, it was by your banks that he knelt each day to contemplate himself.' The lake was silent for some time. Finally it said : 'I weep for Narcissus, but i never noticed he was beautiful. I weep because, each time he knelt beside my banks, I could see, in the depth of his eyes, my own beauty reflected." to add my own comments now would be disruptive. go. read. L.

happy independance

life lately has been handing me lemonade...the sour part sqeezed out and sweetly chillin' in a glass with a little mint thingie floating on top. i feel freedom from the nasties that seemed to dog me and drag me to a standstill. a quiet confidence in myself, and in things to come. a great anticipation fills me, and i know that just around the bend there are some wonderful and amazing things about to happen. one of those things - i'm teaching a workshop! details to come, but i'm very excited about it. meanwhile, along with this bubbling anticipation has come a quiet center. this, my 50th year, seems to have taken the reflection and inner solitude, and formed it into the person i was meant to be. day by day i am coming to know (and like) the person i am becoming. maybe i always was. years of old paint and frills stripped away to the essential blank wall on which the original structure was built. in the past weeks as i came to know my mother, i learned more about myself...how and why i react the way i do in situations. fears i inherited and learned and have discarded. now free to feel and love, reject or discount things as i see them...not as i "should" or "shouldn't." as the eve of the 4th of July arrives, so too has my own independance. from the old. from opinions and obstacles. from fears and uncertainties. from myself as i was...toward the self that i was meant to be. tomorrow i'll head to my Lake to watch the waves break across the rocky shoreline...listen to gulls screech - maybe this is the year they'll trust the food in my hand...to thousands of ladybugs in need of rescue...and butterflies alight on the dunes. sunrise or sunset? yet to be determined. but guaranteed to fill my soul. L.

okay - now the details

sorry about the sideways pic.

first, let me say it was the most amazing weekend i've had in a while. and for small reasons. all bunched up small reasons that became a grand adventure. when the actuality of driving 6 hours in a car with my mother to go to an art weekend hit me, i was a little - no a lot - nervous about it. i mean, what was i thinking? wouldn't you want a like-minded artsy person with you to set the mood? someone who likes the same music? or has cooler music to listen to on the way? but that person is certainly not your mother. well, check again...it may be. so we drive and drive and drive. i have my typical 14 maps and sets of directions. i will be aware of every bump and landmark along the way - nothing to chance on this important weekend. got a fully loaded CD case. check. coffee. check. 19 packs of cigarettes. check. truck packed to overflowing with rusty metal, paints, glues, oh - and clothes? check. mom is looking forward to this trip as much as i am...she will have an entire day to herself with no obligations. so i resolve that NO MATTER WHAT, i will be calm and peaceful and go with the flow, if for no other reason than to give her that gift. we never get to the CDs. the conversation was incredible. i learned things about my mom, through her words, and our working together, that i never thought she knew, felt, or had even thought about before. she was- gasp- a real person! and a very cool one at that. she has done things and lived things that i wouldd never have imagined. she is a strong woman who has played the hand that has been dealt her throughout her life without complaint or blame. it's easy to point a finger or shake a fist at someone else when your life isn't becoming quite what you expected. i know that one by heart. it easy to play the victim and get into that "woe is me" pity party (party of one - your table is ready). you become the taker in life, rather than a contributer, and that cements your feet in that one point. mom just goes with the flow. she still has hopes and dreams. she still wrestles the dragon of self-discovery. she is in a marriage that is stifling her, but has chosen to stay, and i have chosen to respect that....it's HER decision, even though i (now) see what an incredible woman she is and would love to see her free. she directs her wants and desires to service for others. not subservient service. that would imply the death of her spirit. she is spiritual in a non-churchy way, which was the most incredible thing i discovered. day-by-day, she wraps the church around her like a protective cloak....anything not seemingly endorsed by the church is rejected out-of-hand. but on this trip, the cloak was not packed. we arrived in Danvers exhausted and starving, so we went to the nearest familiar place - Chili's restaurant. let me stop here to give you a quick lay-of-the-land. most of the state of Mass. is 1-way. and it's usually the "other" way. what i mean is, they have these multiple-lane roads with huge cement dividers and no U-turn areas. so if you get lost, or miss a turn, it may be quite a while before you can turn back. so we go to dinner, and there's a Big Lots store behind the restaurant. i still need a few supplies, so we check it out. after leaving the store, we head out onto the hiway from hell, and quickly realize we're going the wrong way. we think. maybe. who knows. up ahead, the road widens and there are a lot of signs...we are headed for a turnpike-ish -going-somewhere-ELSE kinda road. like another state somewhere else. so i pull off onto the last little side street at 55mph and stop. what do we do now? i turn my head to look out the window, and there is a cop in his cruiser (or "cruisah" if you're native). he gives me the most confusing set of directions that include lots of " then get on the turnabout" type things. i must have looked sufficiently confused, cause he gruffly said "follow me." we proceed - at high speed- to fly through small rundown neighborhoods that have been recently visited by the pothole fairies. about 5 mins later (15 at normal speed, i estimate) we end up pulling into the BIG LOTS PARKING LOT and go up a hidden little road that takes us right to our hotel. duh. who knew? we laughed so hard (after Peabody's finest cleared the scene). so it was 8:30pm and we were beyond tired. to bed. i was thinking about what a magical day it had been in so many unname-able ways. (sorry GP). i was up at 4:30am. we decided to try to find a breakfast place CLOSE BY and the plan was that i would then take map #2 and find the little town "just down the street" where my dream workshop with artist Michael DeMeng was being held. i am a huge fan of his work, as it touches the same chords in my soul as i try to create in my own work to send out to the world. after relating the story of our "police escort" to the night clerk, and was handed ANOTHER map, we headed off to a nice breakfast restaurant. i won't relay the conversations we had, because they are still too precious to me to share, but i will hold them to my heart forever. simple things, and complicated things all wrapped around a stack of pancakes and an order of eggs. i was beginning to see my mother as a person...as a woman who has lived in a determined and thoughtful way. who is different from me only in some of the choices she has made - but even then, not so different. maybe only in her reaction to them. she was becoming 3-dimensional. not just the person i call every morning to say hi. not the person i rush off a quick cellphone call as i head into work, or who will faithfully watch my dog when i need a break or go somewhere fun. she has always been there in all her depth, but i only saw what i saw. how un-artist-like of me. and such a shame to have missed out. thankfully, she never turned away. what i perceived as her being taken advantage of by almost everyone, i now realize is actually her gift....to be able to help someone up time after time after time when they trip over the same rock in the same road in the same spot. and let them learn on their own. no matter how long it takes. she shows love and patience to her husband, who personally, i would have pushed off a tall building years ago. she wants a little more quiet space in her life, but is able to see the goodness in everyone. that is a gift. especially if you met some of the people she deals with daily. anyway - the workshop was glorious. i arrived early (big surprise!) and as i approched the store, a woman in a purple shirt started waving at me furiously. i pointed at myself and she nodded. she was early too. her name is Rain. cool. i had been hoping for a workshop-buddy, and here she was. somehow we instantly began talking about how we are becoming our mothers. did you ever catch yourself saying something, or notice a movement of your hand or feel a facial expression that you knew unerringly came from your mother? that was our talk. i gave her a wooden cigar box and we are now bonded for life. she gave me much more. strange how she launched into that topic...i mean, we just met. why not talk about art, or the workshop? so that became the theme for my piece "becoming my mother." and it is wonderful in all it's rusted glory. now, if you've ever taken a workshop with me, you know i tend to be loud, clutzy, high-maintenance and never finish my project. despite the fact that there was all this creative high (and the glue helped a lot!) and also the fact that another of my favorite artists was there to help Michael, i was quiet, normal and productive. centered. thoughtful. and i shared my stuff. gasp! good girl. the thoughts and emotions of becoming my mom were overwhelming. i guess there just is no way to put this into words after all, but something shifted in me. the workshop ran long. i was beyond exhausted. dinner at a nice seafood restaurant. back to the hotel where mom was going to teach me to knit. good luck. we sat close on the couch and she tentatively put a hand on my shoulder as i twisted and tangled my way through some stitches. it felt good. it felt right. it felt like water on parched ground. and it made me sad at the same time that she felt she had to be so cautious about showing me affection, yet craving to touch and hold me so much that she would risk rejection or me pulling away. i leaned in and continued to try to knit. i was beginning to notice that she was not this nervous, insecure bag of quaking person. she was quiet and observant. unsure in some situations, like the rest of us, but certain of herself and what she felt. sensitive. i guess her sensitivity is what i mistook for insecurity. easily wounded, she proceeds on tentative steps. the past seemed stupid and juvenile...to carry that rotten tomato around hoping to one day make a salad. it was the present that became so urgent and important. time is short, as i have become aware these past few years. she craves the touch and understanding of her children and loved ones. she groans for a relationship with them - for them to see her as the wonderful,complex person she is, rather than an accumulation of so-called failings. or as a paper cutout of a person. or as a comparison of what she was 20 years ago, 30 years ago, 40 years ago. the scales, i realized are always balanced. it's just how you see things. stand in front and look at them head on and unflinching...dare to use inner eyes. my daily conversations were superficial compared to this. okay - now the transition. got up monday morning and was still undecided about whether to go to Salem to see the Cornell exhibit, or just head home. it would be a shame to be this close and not go, but since all the directions we got all weekend started with "it's just down the road" and usually ended with us lost somewhere, i didn't know if i had the energy to be lost again AND drive 6 hours home. as i went to settle the bill at the hotel office, i found a perfect, pristine little piece of a red ribbon. good sign. at the checkout, the woman was just starting her shift. cranky and hadn't had enough coffee. after 5 minutes of her frustration, she said the original check-in girl (from syracuse, by the way, with an artist mother!) had bollucked up the whole acct and SHE didn't have the time or energy to try to figure out what the friggin ding dong (quote) was going on and if she tried to, it would screw things up worse, so my bill was $9.87. total. period. that's it. no more. don't ask - just hand over a ten-spot-keep-the-change-so-long. yow! so i decided we'd go to Salem. home of the witch trials. with my born-again-and-again-and-again mother. home of satan. home of everything evil. unless you know the true story. she was unfazed by the whole "evil"thing. the Cornell exhibit brought tears to my eyes and i was again overwhelmed. even trying to faithfully record events here is so lame. the depth of emotions that weekend....the art....the friendships forged, both at the workshop, and with my mother, and with myself. she took few pictures, as did i. when i asked her why, she said "i have it all here in my heart. a picture would never be right." my thoughts. exactly. L.

on becoming my mother

this has been the most overwhelming 3 days in my life...i left sat early a.m. to head to Danvers, MA for a Michael DeMeng workshop...with my mom riding shotgun. these 2 incredible events had the potential to send me over the edge of reason - each in their own way. i had a talk with myself before i left and was determined to just let her be herself, and likewise, to just be me. tomorrow i will fill in the most incredible details of this gift of an adventure, but let me end this quick preview by saying 1) although i see myself slowly becoming my mom, it isn't such a bad thing now that i know her....and 2) you do not want to miss tomorrow's post. my apologies for this lame-o teaser, but i have been up since 4am, and drove from 7am-8pm....it's now 10:41, and i just cannot do this magical trip justice with the few remaining brain cells i have left.....so till tomorrow - put on a sweater...i'm cold. ;) L.

you asked for it....

okee dokee...i warn you - don't stare too long at the picture...you wanted to see my studio, so here's a small corner of my world....messy and i love it like that! also here's a wallhanging i made for my friend...it's dupioni silk on cotton duck...not real easy to see the tasty, but colorful anyway. it's all beaded up. L.

like a bee

life has certainly been busy busy busy the past few weeks....i've been trying to create some art for a dr's office (3 pieces) and for a friend (2 pieces) plus get ready for my dream trip to a workshop in MA in 2 weeks. whew. the inspiration seems to be flowing at the same time as the need for the art - for a change! at the same time, my dear friend Katie passed away. very strange "coincidence" surrounding that event...i got a call at work from a girl i'd worked with at 911. had only worked with her for 6 months (she was new, i was leaving) and never was real close to her. anyway, somehow, she recognized my voice when i answered the phone. how weird is that? we chatted for a minute or so and she was adamant that i give her my phone number. despite misgivings, i gave her my cell number, then had a co-worker answer her work-related questions - i didn't feel right digging around her medical file. 2 days later, i was out of sorts all day. didn't want to be at work, didn't want to be at home, didn't feel productive. just out of sorts. squirmy. so i stayed at work, despite an easy excuse of a dr appt at hand. when i left work, there was a message from this ex-co-worker telling me that kate had passed. now, i don't know of anyone else that would have made sure that i knew about kate except this girl. people get caught up in grief and turn to those closest to them, those they see everyday. but beth made sure i knew. coincidence? i went to kate's funeral today. it was the hardest thing i've done in recent memory. i was glad that she was out of suffering and pain - she did not deserve that. but as people began to file to the front and tell stories of what she meant to them and how she had changed them - just by being her - it began to dawn on me how each life creates a ripple. all the kids in the neighborhood flocked to her house for unconditional love - even if that meant a swat on the behind from time to time. at one point, this huge giant of a black man stood up at the microphone. his name was Handsome. he said "it took a tiny little white woman to teach me what it is to be a man." she was no stranger to trials in her life. but she handled them with a smile and a prayer and kept her head up and plowed through whatever came. never once heard her preach or even quote the bible - she just lived her life the way she knew she should. she meant so much to so many. and it created a ripple. this one was touched by her and passed it on to the next and the next and taught their kids like she'd taught them. a tiny little force of nature. never preached. never said a bad word about anyone. but was just a normal everyday woman. i will surely miss her...the thought of her being at the end of the phone. listening to grown men and women from the police depts weep as they recounted how much she meant to them - battle-hardened veterans of the war on the streets, humbled by the grace and love of this one person. it made me think - how will i effect the world? of late, i have been extremely needy in the emotional realm. battling depression. battling a sagging marriage. mourning my dear nikita still. not knowing which way to turn in my life, or whether to stay in place. this afternoon reminded me that i too will make a ripple....for good or for bad, for betterment of those i touch, or not. i am a different person because of kate. a better person. she saved me in ways i cannot express at a time when i needed it. i will try to be that person, that kate-ripple person. as we all stood in the vestibule after the service, waiting to go to the cemetary, the tears flowed harder as we realized that this was our final goodbye...that it was now up to us to take her love and pass it on. what a precious gift and what a difficult task. L

creation

the rust gods were with me today! an incredible score at the flea market....actually, a whole bunch o' goodies! i'm working on a piece now called "she had a lot to say" and feel like there may be a few more with the same name. ("son of..." "the 2nd" hmmm, need to think about that). it was nice to get out and take my time without feeling guilty about not being home doing chores. i got up around 5:30am and took diva dog for a walk (after a cup of coffee! amazing how many other people were out. i must have been sending out good vibes, because the vendors at the flea market were handing me stuff free. or maybe they couldn't believe anyone would want some of the stuff i picked out! greasy rusty spark plugs...an old faucet...etc. i tried to be friendly and chatty but not show too much interest in the pieces i wanted. my poker face hits the floor though when i see just the right piece of whatever. and this time i remembered to bring singles instead of whipping out a $20 bill. i was so incredibly exhilirated that i came home and made art! the idea that was twinkling around in my head, hiding when i peeked, has finally shown itself. i say "finally" as if it was an intolerable wait, when in fact in the past, i've waited months for that "ah ha" moment. and a few hours after that, i knew where it would have a home. you know how different people in your life inspire different things ? this one makes you feel good about yourself...that one is your "serious" friend with whom you discuss deep thoughts ...that one is a little dangerous in a giddy way...you know what i mean. well, i have a person in my life i think of as the "receptor." it seems lately that i'll have an idea - a big one- but probably wouldn't start the work because it would be a huge undertaking. with my flea-fart attention span, it would never get done! well, it seems like moments after the idea "gels," she'll call and i'll realize she's the one who this piece is meant to go to. strange. my pieces all seem to pick out their homes as i work on them. that's why it's hard for me to just create for the sake of creating sometimes. there has to be a destination in mind for it. i picture how the person will react and interact with the piece....where it may end up in their home. these pieces always end up being a conversation, or more of a thank you, actually, to that person. i'm so grateful and extremely blessed to have the friends i have. truly special friends who are supportive and encouraging and as happy for my successes and growth as i am. i only hope i give back something to them that enriches their lives. (i say "friends" but i include my brother) he is something special. although when we were growing up i didn't quite think so. but now, i feel closer to him that any other person. we're very much alike, yet very different. sylvia & trudi. oy. so anyway, doing an inventory of the day, my question to myself is: do i create art, or does the art create me? hmmm..............L