okay i owe you one

so after all the gloom & doom in the last post...i apologize. i spent some time in meditation & prayer this morning...more gratitude-giving than santa-gimme type prayer...reaching deep...settling in...being silent inside...and just. said. thank you. after of a few full breaths, began my day. the hamster wheel. but different. whenever i felt myself sliding a bit from that center, i'd take a breath and remember that spot, like a baseball player trying to steal 2nd...keep that foot on the bag...and return...and so in that spirit i took on my day in quietness of spirit...despite the chaos and noise and poorly behaved callers. and little golden carrots appeared everywhere...those carrots on the stick - just out of reach (usually used to motivate a jackass)...at lunch, i was in no hurry to figure out where to eat, and ended up in the Kitcheria downstairs. in line. behind the CEO. (now, i always seem to make a total ass out of myself in front of him, so i have vowed to be super-normal if he's around. boringly so if need be). so, knowing that the actions in parenthesis would be impossible, i plowed in and asked him if he'd been to the Delavan Art Gallery to see my art yet like I had invited him with the postcard. his reply? "i hate art." now this man was toying with me...seeing what i was made of. so i said, "perfect! give me your credit card and I'll pick out something nice for you!" while the mouth was delivering this light comedy, unencumbered as it was by the brain and all, the saliva glands got nervous, and began working overtime. yes, i may have spit on him by accident. at least it didn't hit the salad bar. will he forget the conversation? yeah probably. i imagine he went upstairs and said "find and fire that goofy chick with the saliva issue," then went about his day. of course i followed up this incredibly meaningful moment by almost knocking down the achingly handsome Indian man who's office is right by the timeclock but you can't see him in there unless you do a backbend and there is no way to make THAT look casual. so you never know if he heard you accidentally burp that night when you were fred flinstone-yabba-dabba-do-clocking-out. he doesn't punch a clock. oh so then on the way home, mom called to say i sounded so tired that she stole diva for the night. although i am in pieces missing her, it gave me the opportunity to stop at Barnes & Noble and use my Extra 15% off coupon on the last day! so i bought a huge HUGE annie lebovitz photography anthology book. slurp. i need a coffee table for it! so y'all, many many carrots today. and it all started out by simply saying thank you. so now isn't this a nice payback? L.

i'm not going to say the name of the drug i'm taking to quit that bad habit, but you know the one. it starts with a "C" and every time i name it in my blog, i get 1k emails from the company somewhat spamishly just saying hello. but THAT drug is whoopin my behind...i may as well not even try to sleep at night, for all that i wake up... 4 times an hour last night...i counted. of course, day sleeping seems to work fine, except when the boss comes by. and i'm all intensly weepy and emotional and depressed and of course it is entirely my husbands fault somehow and besides he picks the past 3 weeks to be out of town all 3 weeks except for a day here and there when he comes home to get his laundry done and bitched out for something. so i waver nano-minute by nano-minute between being so beyond pissed at him that i want him to move out, and then crumbling into a puddle thinking how horrible that would be, then coming back to center with the whole Whatever attitude. and of course, because this is ME...let's throw in some perimenopausal hormonal highs and lows, and sweetness, you've got a recipe for something toxic to be around, though somewhat interesting to watch from a safe distance. i do not know which end is up. it is EXHAUSTING to be me right now and i just want to crawl into my bed (yes INTO, much like Alice in the Looking Glass) and hide away for a while. maybe 6 months. do i stop the drug? do i keep smoking? which is the lesser of the evils? because each has their own special little nudge and hell. my dog is even disgusted with me, i'm certain of it. the cats could care less. mutual feelings there. well i'm going to NYC. with or without the husband, although he claims his schedule will be magically freed up the day i picked. maybe i'll just forget to get off exit 35 some day and keep heading east. the ocean is east. (right?) i sent him a meeting confirmation email. we have just lost that spark, eh? so name some places i shouldn't miss...some un-touristy places that you happened on by accident. now, i've written and erased about 5 things here that just sound so darn snippy even to me, so i'm just going to go to bed now. i am a slice of pie tonight, for goodness sake. so i'm off to puddle up my pillow. L.

PS: btw i am still sick and trying to do the full-time gig, so my posts will be erratic for a bit. not that Life Itself depends on whether or not I post. just sayin. now read below & have a good day y'all. L.

birthday belly

i am totally gone on this! my new interest. yes, i know i have no sense of rythym and can't do the chicken dance, let alone an ancient art form such as belly dancing. but inproficiency in an area has never stopped me yet. i mean, i've been married TWICE, right? so last night we gathered at King David's for an evening of belly dancing and mostly...celebration. it was my friend Lynn's 50th birthday. now, let me introduce you to Lynn. she is, in 2 words, unassuming strength. her story is not mine to tell, and i'm sure i have never appeared amazed enough, but trust me, her life would have absolutely destroyed me. but, with grace and strength, and always a smile, she just does what needs doing. and along the way, seems to have come out with an even gentler, wondrous spirit. she is The Woman that makes you feel like you need to be a better person. for yourself, and for reaching out and touching others. and the darndest thing is that i can't figure out she does it. she just....does. and so here are a few unauthorized pictures. i am totally signing up for this, so if you teach anywhere in a 60-mile radius, disconnect your phone. It's a family thing:

rich...?

oh y'all...can i just tell you? i have tried TRIED so very hard to deeply love these cats. every day. but the truth is, i just do not. i used to be a confirmed cat person. now i am not. i don't resent or despise or mistreat them in any way. they live a life some humans would envy. i do. but there is simply no love connection. and i brought this upon my own self. *sigh* it started when they, being cats, jumped on every single thing. and knocked every single thing down. my sculptures...ruined or in need of repair...my work table - desicrated. this morning just frosted the cake. (OH! CAKE! Happy Birthday QOTU!!!) this morning just as i was in a mad search for my keys which i knew just KNEW one of those fur-footed bandits had taken, just as, i hear that sound. you know the one. followed by a wet sort of sound that meant i was going to be late for work. now WHY in God's holy name does this cat not vomit when my husband is home? an answer? anyone? bueller? okay so that taken care of, and keys found (duh. purse. bottom. under IPod) off i go to another beautiful day. fast forward about 9-10 hours, and i open the door to my house (from the reverse side, as i am coming home) and it hits me...the nose is in full disgust. a 2-day cat box is no joking matter my friends. it must be husband was busy and forgot to empty it. so i weigh the situation...leave it 4 more days and move out, or empty it. ok. into the garage. now i haven't even eaten yet, and am pretty sure i won't be able to after. can i just say that THIS is what people do in hell all day? they empty cat boxes. i am sure of it, but have no reliable confirmation of fact. so there i am...slotted shovel thing in hand...trying to get this over with just as fast as possible... i am digging like Ben Stein's money is in here...this would never happen to Barbie, y'all. i tell you that like i know for certain, because no plastic cat would visit this abomination upon her. never have i ever seen anything like this. my dog just leaves it at the park. i carry a plastic bag and pretend to pick it up, but really now, do you think I am cut out for that?? eeooww. disgusto. and i figure she eats enough of it throughout the year to even things out, so i am guilt free on that regard. so the moral, if there is one, the bright moment where you can find a lesson SOMEhow in disaster is this: be very very good, my friends. or you may end up in a never-ending furnace cleaning catboxes throughout eternity. now. on to dinner. L. oh and PS: remind me to tell you how Diva sings actually SINGS in her sleep!

i've been trying to think of a way to say this without sounding all let-them-eat-cake, or like i'm unconcerned, cold-hearted, cruella, and blind to world events. let's start in the middle. although i believe that "The Secret" is an oversimplified crock that gets people's hopes up that the lotto is theirs for the asking, i DO believe that you get what you give. misery loves company. happiness never celebrates alone. (and yes, i am writing this in the MIDDLE of the day in the middle of the week...i am indeed home sick with a fate worse than death - NEAR death in the form of a sinus mucusality that has me dizzy and vertagious, and all forms of snot-ridden. so my recent yearnings to stay home were the pre-cursor warning that i would, indeed, be staying home, and should stock up on soup & Netflix. unfortunately, cat litter and cat food never crossed my mind.) so where was i? oh. so with that mindset in mind (blah blah Secret blah lotto, etc) bear with me while i gently rant, or surf elsewhere. i cannot bear another sentence that contains the phrase "in these times" or the likes. it is as if we have a national badge of honor that the economy is not what it has been in recent times. and i am not blind to the economic situations in America. it's just that we as Americans generally have more than enough. (and i am speaking in sweeping generalizations here). If not every Thing, we at least have Plenty. or at least Enough. and if not Enough, then have access to food pantries and such where Enough can be obtained. if you have More Than Enough, or even Plenty, please do not feel that it is an abomination to appreciate it or enjoy it. it is a gift. and if we are all stooping our shoulders and giving into the "in these times" attitudes, then more of that will come visit you. it does not make you thoughtless to live the life you are able to. it does not make someone else have less. it may, however, give hope to someone with Not Enough to know that there is Possibility...there is a reason to keep on looking for that job, or going to school, or doing whatever they are doing to make the next step. why rush to the elevator if it's stuck between floors? i am just so concerned with the state of national depression...more so than a national recession. and again...i am not unaware that there are people in desperate straits. i just don't think it helps anyone to act like You are if you aren't. it makes it worse. the money markets are driven by unseen inklings and feelings and maybes. wall street is a giant lemming roost, it seems. when one jumps, they all do. so my feeling is this...go about your business in your conventional way, as best you can. help those around you that need help...on your street, in your place of worship, close by your home or business. that is important and will be returned to you in immeasurable ways. have a vision board, yes. but also use your vision to help. and if you have been blessed, don't insult the Giver by saying it's nothing because of "times like these." the Giver knows exactly what times these are. yes, it is poor etiquette to do a neener dance about it all, just like on the playground when you got an ice cream and someone else didn't. but geez...you could share the ice cream and both of you would feel good about it, eh? my point is, i am not oblivious...i am not special...i am, however, grateful. and will continue to express that gratitude. and anyone who thinks that gratitude should not be, needs to talk to the Giver that gave me both the Gift, and the open heart to receive it. it was nothing by my hand. my situations could change in a nanosecond, and that is my deepest fear. but at this second of this day, i am in a comfortable home in a comfortable bed with soup in the kitchen, a dog snoring at my feet, and 2 cats that will soon realize they are having real tuna for dinner because i forgot i have cats and only bought food for Diva. i repent. i am grateful for You, my friend, for reading this, and hopefully understanding my intent. my life, as it is, is not so bad, and i refuse to act otherwise in order to be fashionable. neither will i shovel coals into a furnace of your fears. i will share. just let me know. L.

the sunday night stomach ache before the monday morning work thing. i begin to shed the bliss of the smell of Golden paints and gels and rusted things and my puppy's sweet paws as they stretch out to hold me...yes, she hugs. a proper hug. i miss her most during the day, and hope she understands i'm not leaving her by choice. the last thing i see as i go down the driveway are her little ears through the glass by the door. it breaks my heart. she's slowing down these days, and i hope the warm weather will bring grace to her bones as she suns herself on the deck. i'm feeling a bit unwinded the past few days... a helium balloon so many days after the party...but i'm hoping some rest and a warm blanket will do me some good, as well. these days i fight the veil that seems to drop without warning, rather than curl in and grab my pillow for the day. these days it seems rude to wish aloud that your days were not filled with offices and timeclocks...these days it seems like an obnoxious luxury to call in sick...these days...when so many ...so i plan what goos things i'll do with the "extra" money...what random acts of kindness...what anonymous surprises...and that keeps the clouds just out of view a bit. time for another generous helping of puppylove....sending you out bounty and bliss...and maybe a random surprise....L.

so i worry lately about this whole memory thing...or lack thereof. the short-term part. i can tell you stories from a year ago. 5 years ago. 30 years ago. but can i remember your name? mostly. and my precious cache of Big Words...hanging on by a thread. so as i am thankful i'm not under the pressure of working in radio still, it is becoming more stressful to work at a job that nonetheless requires a sharp verbal defensive attunement...a zorro-like mastery of verbage. perhaps it's lack of use - the past 15 years of my life being involved in jobs that required me to talk-the-talk chameleon-like with hookers and would-be suicides and drug dealers and wife beaters and kids with guns and wannabe hoodlums and malcontents and mopes of every sort. i think that's why my art widened and deepened and became my voice...the words i couldn't express...the words that walked out on the emotions and expressions still contained inside...my eyes taking it in...my heart and gut processing it...the ache and need to release it somehow...to try to share with you the good, the bad, the totally unacceptable and the purest nearly unexpressable bliss...but without sufficient words. it is asking a lot from art, and i guess it explains my frustration at losing studio time...it's like asking me not to talk for a week. (or actually...for a minute!). but the end result is some of the best art of my life. so if it's to be a trade-off, so be it. the art is so much more rewarding. i feel the frustration mount, though, in attempts to explain to someone just how important and special they are...to try to tell them about that spot of golden light they bring to the world...and listening as it fizzles into a tireless monologue as i search for the phrase i need. writing seems fine...just the spoken word. my former-former-former boss said when the kids were arguing or begging for something, his grandmother would tell them they only had a certain number of words to use in a lifetime, and they were wasting their words. when those words were up, they'd never be able to speak again. maybe she was right. at any rate, i have a bowl of lime sherbet melting at my elbow that needs the attention of my spoon. and in case time gets past me this week...HAPPY BIRTHDAY GAILQotu and AND LynnTheWarriorQueen! may this be an incredible, special, full-of-love and wonderful sparkly things year for each of you! i am proud that you call me friend! L.

oy

i can see now the posts will be erratic...my new schedule is killer. and to make matters worse, i have nothing Nothing to say, do to my lack of contact with the Outside World. unless you want to hear all the names i got called today. naw. bad bad words. some very inventive. i like to keep a score system...1 point for a common vulgarity, all the way up to 5 points for something new and unusual. if i call you by chance, and just spew random thoughts, it's just that i am craving your conversation and touching base, but have nothing in the experiential bank to withdraw and share with you from my week. (unless the aforementioned vulgarity is actually of interest to you). ah life. i can almost see Gerard Depardeau tipping his hat to me as he wanders past by cube...Thank Heaven for M^&^F%^B&*()**$!. ever crave a blast of IQ? come with me on bring your whatever to work day. so, anyway, here's a treat for you, courtesy of Swirly: not to be a simpering syncophant, but you really should buy her book now before Oprah touts it, and it becomes IMPOSSIBLE to find. and anyway, there are worse people to put on a pedestal. so it's my bedtime...way past in fact, according to The Schedule. so 'night y'all! L. as if i can sleep still wondering what exactly a ...oh never mind.

sand dunes & snow dunes

i promise i'll post pictures. but not now. i'm enjoying my last night diva-less, with a bonus of husband-less. i say "enjoying," but i miss my girl like cooked food. she'll be here when i get home tomorrow. right now, i'm basking in the screaming silence. no tv. no talk. no appliances. or fans. or telephones ringing. or...anything. just the tap-tap of the computer keys. what a nice weekend...i said Welcome Back to my lake...just stretching and pushing away the last of the snow dunes - huge Alaska-sized icebergs piled up along the beach...a dangerous temptation to walk out on, when suddenly a cave-in and you're whisked under water...then a long stretch of water beyond the bergs, and more white about 6 miles out...but what is it? it seems to move and shimmer, and a low, insistant humming sound accompanies it...oh the sight! hundreds of thousands of snow geese making their way north! i try to take a picture, but they're too far. i stand transfixed at the spotting scope, relenting only when it's clear i've taken too long a turn...then to the binoculars...suddenly a great white tornado forms as a group rises, adjusts position and re-settles...i wonder what they think...i wonder what it feels like to have an instinct so sharp and certain that they Know that Today is The Day to migrate...to form up in double rows with a leader honking the way...who decides who leads? nature is an endless source of amazement. i came home in the mood for a movie, and remembered i still had Nights In Rodanthe from Netflix. i love Diane Lane. there's a part in the movie where she's telling Richard Gere about herself, and being seperated. she says (loosely quoted) that when you marry, you become who you think you should be, and then little by little you compromise and give up pieces of yourself till one day, you only have a little left... and no one wants what you have become. later in the movie she tells her daughter that there are 2 kinds of men...one kind will help you become more than you ever thought you could be, and the other will make you become less than you ever thought you could be. both scenes were very interesting. i don't necessary feel that way right now, just so you know, but i think it's so interesting how we work off the dynamic of one another...how one person can make us strive to be better / happier / whatever, and how another just brings out the worst in us. recently, a friend of mine emailed me and told me, basically, that she didn't want to continue our friendship. and i had to agree. i apologized if i had made her feel bad in any way, but i had to say it was a relief. she isn't a horrible person, but we just brought out the worst in each other, and i'd find our conversations were just not doing either of us any good. maybe in the future we can make a different friendship...one with limits and boundaries. but it's funny how 1 person can affect the whole room...at work, there's one girl that so very clearly does not want to be there...and if you don't notice right off, then her huffing and bitching will clue you in. i have brought in a spritzer bottle labeled "Vibe-Rite" and spray it at her desk area and tell her to get her vibe right or else. she's nervous of me since the Crow incident, and will generally keep it to herself. fear this, bad-mood-girl. now this is an office filled with normal people, but the stepford thing about it is that i have never not ever in almost 3 years heard a single back-stabbing word...never has there been gossip or tale telling about someone (unless they're all talking about me and i'm clueless). which is amazing for such a huge organization. i hate gossip. i mean, i like to know all the skinny on everything, but i hate how destructive it is. and here i ramble. but i do promise to post some Lake pictures as soon as i get my lazy butt upstairs to the thingie that you put the card-a-ma-bob into. probably wednesday-ish. so y'all keep watch for spring this week. L.

guess who's back in the atmosphere?

(thank you Holly Knott for this image)(other show images at her blog - click on the sidebar on her name) Whew! i slept 12 hours last night! friday at work was a "who's on first" kind of day...i felt hung-over despite the fact that i only had a teeny few sips of wine. i think. the show is absolutely amazing! Caroline, the gallery mgr, has outdone herself on this one! it is sparkly and wonderful! the piece above is called "Flow" and it's 60x80 nuno felted into Shibori-dyed silk. please buy it...i have no way to get it home! The night was awesome...i felt like a rockstar! even Perfect Princess Patti's Knight in Shining Armor came...i am humbled. so enough of this...i don't mean to sound all blah blah blah as if i think i'm all grand and biscuits...just pleased and surprised. so don't think i've actually gone rockstar. i was told i must "revel in it" and am only doing what i was told. if you live around here, please don't miss this show - it is just really is All That And a Bag of Chips. today - finishing up an assemblage that may be a gift. and a gift that may be an assemblage. and...time to check on my husband's eagles! they're baaack! L.

guilty pleasure

it's hard to believe that just last week i was up and flying by this time every day...6:15am. yikes! this week started my new schedule - 10-7 - and i must say it suits me well, sleep-wise. i don't have time for anything else but work, but at least i don't feel so tired all the time. one factor that may be helping is: grandma has diva dog this week. it was better all around since youngblood is home for the week, and he doesn't appreciate the unique quirks of this special needs dog. plus grammy felt it would give me time to adjust to daylight savings and new hours without having to also try to fit in a walkie. i admit i miss that creature more than candy during lent, but i have to admit also that it's pretty restful being able to get up, dump some crunchies in a bowl for the cats and just take care of my business. what a trade-off, eh? so i thought i'd do a quick catch-up before i do a radio call-in segment in 3 minutes. don't forget the opening reception for my art show tonight. now why didn't i take the whole day off?? der. L.

i am

i am screaming through this project! as in- moving quickly and inspiredly. and after all the recent doubts and doubling back...this is the most important piece i've ever completed. i am in awe of it. i was blitzing along with it yesterday, then remembered i had to pick up more invites @ the gallery, so i flew down there - my hair somewhat in a clip, cement and plaster covering my hands, no makeup (of course...what is makeup, anyway??)...generally looking like the wrath of God had befallen me. so one of the other artists in the show is a woman who's work i have admired for some time..."admired" being a much more understated and peaceful word for what her work conjures in me. and she came in for more invitations too. when the gallery manager introduced us, she started going on and on about how she's followed my work and blah blah, then grabbed my hand and dragged me over to where the show was being set up...demanding i tell her about the process and what each piece was saying to her. and i don't tell you this to brag. no one and i mean no one was more flabbergasted than i was. here i was in the middle of my Should I Stay Or Should I Go phase artistically, and this woman, this woman with a full passport and Very Wonderful and Important work that i have dropped salty tears over...THAT woman was gaga over my work. and i cannot remember a moment when i felt more surrounded by a bright, loving light...felt more cocooned in arms that were saying It Will Be Okay...It Always Was Okay. i just feared the catcher on the other end of the trapeze was looking at the crowd instead of my hands outstretched. and so i came home, and held tight to the wonder of it...held it to my heart, whispered it to diva in words as good as i could muster. i Am. and will continue to be. and just felt so f*ing good with it all. and very very inspired and very very authentic and grown up. and i tell you this, only because you know that this is not a self-involved MeMeMe story...it is the result of months of feeling emotionally beat up...by my own self...by art...by my husband....feeling like i had been a poser as an artist...kicking art to the curb and saying good riddance...i guess it is true - the longest moment is when we're waiting for the other shoe to drop. well guess what? sometimes you live beneath a 1-legged man...only 1 shoe. so i glowed in my bliss...i took many moments to say grateful, heartfelt things to God, rather than the usual desperate begging for whatever - change for the tollbooth, or some other matter of importance...and when the gratitude deepened and i may have actually embarrassed God, He, in His grace, caused the cat to once again vomit. bringing me back to earth. but changed. and better for it. (i am convinced the great thinkers and spiritual leaders never not ever owned a cat.) on another earthbound topic...stepgirlchild, having alerted her mother, father, brother and me to her plan of trying out for America's Next Top Model, had a 3-ring circus of adults doing Any Needed to get her to the audition fully photoed and clothed with the required overnighted bathing suits, gowns, etc. (Thank you Thea!). her brother actually got up at 5:45am on a daylight savings day, and drove 3 hours to her, just to drive her to the audition and be there for moral support (and ogling no doubt). i finally texted Youngblood, asking just what was going on. apparently the line was really long and they had to wait outside, so she left. thank God. i give her props for gathering her girl power and getting her sh*t together asap...she did it and did it on her own. in 2 days. i woulda never guessed she had it in her! i wish she would have stayed, but, you know, it was a whim - not her dream/goal/career, and it was nasty cold out, so i see her point of view. would i have stayed out there? oh hell yeah. i mean not the ME here today, but the me from 20 (okay 30) years ago. but i am still proud of her. i didn't give birth to her, or raise her much, but i taught her things she should know - how to put gas in a car, how to make microwave hot chocolate, how to love Tiffany jewelry. and i know those 3 things will rescue her at various times in her life. so...what a full weekend, huh?? shalom now y'all. L.

now where was i?

sorry - i've been trapped in a life with 2 bulimic cats and a dog with an identity crisis. the cats also like to recreate that famous Gene Kelly moment from Singin' In The Rain. except in their own yark. so a speedy cleanup is required and has kept me on my toes. the dog. oy. never mind. so the stepgirlchild called me. called ME. from college today. never a good sign. she has a perfectly good mother with credit cards. i'm the Holder Of The Secrets. and The Fixer. i have quite a bag of dirt to someday hold over her head. unspoken, but we both know the day will come. today, though, she called to tell me excitedly that she will be trying out for America's Next Top Model, which will be in her town tomorrow or the next day and is doing a season of short girls...like, under 6'8". she is a gorgeous girl, taller than me, but a bit unprepared for some of the misbehavin' i see on that show. but maybe she'll be a fresh example for the other girls. or maybe turn into a crack whore. hopefully, she'll do what makes her happy, either way, and either way make enough money to pay her own tuition should she return to academia. which wouldn't be likely in either case, but here i ramble. her mom overnighted her some bathing suits, which hurt me to know that i clearly wasn't the first to get in on this news. should she see a pink plus-sign, i can betcha she'll have ME on speed dial asap. but anyway, still felt warm & fuzzy to be included. and wondered what my role was - what did she need from me? turns out ...nothing. she had planned to bring her bathing suit and a change of clothes to WalMart and have them photograph her. i can't even comment here...my visual mind is all a-scurry. anyway, cross your fingers for her...this proves to be an exciting weekend! new topic: i got my new contacts adjusted today - i mentioned that faraway was good, and close up was good, but medium was not so good. so he gave me a new lens to try in my left eye. my vision is now equally matched - i cannot see duke in either eye. do not drive with, or near me at night, y'all. new topic: i am screamin' through my assemblage that was inspired by Jonatha Brooke's song Sweet & Bitter Bowl. i was at a standstill and decided to organize a bit, then BAM. if you know anyone who wants almost every issue of Quilting Arts magazine...they are free for the asking - just pay postage, or come pick up. new topic: AT LONG LAST my tshirts are in!! so i can start hand-painting for the etsy shop! whoo hoo! ok enough chit chat....back to glue and rust and such. oh - i got the m-o-s-t unBElievable mail today! gail, (who's husband should be honored for turning his mancave garage into a sewing annex) that gail, sent me a teabag attached to a note "one precious bag." not just ANY tea...Pickwick STRAWBERRY tea...with real bits of strawberry...hark! the 70's and strawberry essential oil...drink it? save it? drink it? save it? DRINK IT! oooohhhhh! pure, warm, cozy cozy, cup o sex. it is remarkable. total bliss in a bag. i will honor the tea bag in a shrine when it will no longer work. i plan to get at leat 3 maybe 4 pourings out of this. thank you Gqotu! new topic: check out Skirt magazine! dudeloves...it is the swirlinator! really great essay...a must read! ok, i'm done. L.

yep - that's me in the bottom left-hand corner! i am so pleased to be included in this show...many of the other artists are people whom i've admired for a while, and i'm thrilled. so, if you made it here, thank you. i know that last post was a long & winding road, and i wouldn't blame you for fast forwarding through it. it's just that there is a shift going on within me...plate tectonics. the whole Turning Fifty thing may have started it, who knows, sounds reasonable, whatever. but as i worked at some jewelry this morning, thoughts continued to weave languidly around my heart...not quite settled, so not ready to rest. i came down for lunch, and grabbed my Pure Inspiration magazine (lovely magazine) and opened to any page. i HAVE to read when i eat if i'm alone. i had opened to an interview with Louise Hay. and a few paragraphs down, she was answering the questioner's question about when she started doing her "Hayrides." she replied that it was 30 years ago...when she was 50. when she was 50. she started. she started something unbelievably wonderful...30 years ago...when she was 50. the bolt of lightening hit me...so fifty isn't the beginning of the gracious decline into decrepitude? this woman, Louise Hay, began a global project. when she was 50. she BEGAN it then. yes, i know - you got it already. but it took me a few re-reads for the entire fabu-ness of it to seep into my heart. and that began to cleanse the anger i've had...at myself for not pushing myself harder...at my husband for being in my way...at my job for asking me to actually show up in order to get paid...at my mother (ah-ha!) for making me the parent when my father died...i had anger here, i had anger there. like Dr. Suess says: in a boat, with a goat, in a box, with fox...i had anger here and there, i had anger everywhere. well - i changed that last part. so as i sat back and held my breath, Anger came out came out from wherever it was...hiding here in disguise as righteousness, and there as justification, oh and here was a good one...over there as hurt and sadness. it's easier to be hurt and sad than to admit Anger. Anger is ugly and sticky. plus you can get over Anger, but hurt and sadness tend to linger a bit. so as i watched my vegetable soup get chilly and put on a second skin, i held each area of anger to the light, and bid it adieu. especially the one that had it's friend Fear with it. shalom...farewell. so i'll give the initial credit to Louise Hay, who 30 years after starting Something, appears to be going strong with what happened here today. an inkling turned idea turned realization. hoy! did i just lose 5 pounds of junk i was carrying?? L.

inklings and underpins

first some housekeeping, so to speak...am i the only one with 2 bulimic cats, and a dog addicted to ChewLotta bones? ok, new topic. so lately there's a trend in books...or maybe i'm just noticing them more...i think of them as the Just Do It books...the ones that tell you to just take a leap of faith - follow your dreams and the details will all work themselves out. for the past however many years (ok, Many), i had a Plan. want to hear? ok i was going to leave my Big Girl Job and just make art full time. wearable art to make the mortgage money, then in my spare time - my Real art. the sculptures, assemblages, jewelry. ahh yes. having been self-employed before (freelance advertising) and having owned 2 businesses (lingerie store, and import/export) i knew full well what would be expected. i was at the edge of the diving board, swinging my arms and pointing my toes...one...two..thr..wait! what?? bad timing...new car needed. and maybe new furniture. ok NOW...one...two...three...wait! What?? new husband...new house..new stepkids. let's wait a year. fast forward and repeat. and again. so i've spent a lot of my marriage feeling snarky towards my husband for - oops - what turns out to actually be my fear of taking that bounce and diving into the water. but is it fear, or is it just not meant to be? as in No- This Is Not Your Path. or is it meant to be ...but with my own swerve? so i held back and grit my teeth and held back and...became just a wee bit snarkier. and i despise snarkiness...a little becomes more and it feeds on your spirit till there's only the icky part left. so then - you know what's coming - i was mad for feeling snarky...mad at myself...mad at husband for making me feel snarky...mad at myself again for thinking it was him that made me feel snarky...then in exhaustion - mad at my art. i'm not sure why, but i was. i almost wished this sweetness of creating away, just so i wouldn't have this hamster wheel going around. and then came the fabulous women i came to know...weaving in and out of my life...artists of all sorts - painters, potters, poets, writers, weavers...all going about their lives As Artists. not filling in a loose moment with art as they schlepped to their day job and came home, cleaned the house, shop vac'd dog vomit, did the laundry. no they were just artists. so back to square one. then came the volley of volumes - follow your heart - here's how...step by step on how to Live Your Dreams. but...but...but...a few problems. i love my BigGirl Job. it isn't a career by any stretch of the imagination. and i think that's what i love. if i got fired tomorrow, i wouldn't care. i love what i do...i love the company...but i don't get my self-image from this job. and i have plenty of time to make art. or think about making Art. or decide if i want to make more art. so it seems that maybe the time to leap into the pool may be over - that perhaps it's time to wade in the shallows. or is it? now that the Big Girl job is demanding more of my hours, and arranging them in such a manner so as to prevent anything else during the week, it's almost down to a throw down - job vs art. can i make a living at my art? yes. but do i want to work that hard at it - producing, marketing, selling, workshops, shows, etc.? no. so what to do then? keep on with the journey as it leads? or swerve? is it selfish of me to leave my job to make art with no particular goal, other than the pure expression of it? do i feel like i don't deserve such luxury? is it just so, umm, hmm, so Practical that it seems wrong? and yet - what if i exchanged the word "art" for "shoe salesman?" what if that was my passion at a time when people were struggling, and i said I Want To Sell Shoes! would i think so much about it, or just go sell shoes? the whole thinking about all this makes me tired and dizzy. so why then do i feel so guilty when i read those How To Live Your Dreams books? and why do i buy them? so my question to myself...what exactly would i do if i won the lottery? what would you do? what is your burning dream, and do you treasure it as a dream...or live it as a dream come true? how did you know that it was meant to be lived, rather than just inspire you? tell me. L.