to be perfectly honest, i'm beginning to wonder.  no - that's a lie.  to be perfectly honest, i know with 90% certainty that this puppy thing was not the best decision.  he is wonderful, learns fast, cuddles waaay in on you and is seriously wonderful. those eyes! it's just the time involved.  and i had become selfish with my time, enjoying hours in the studio being productive.  but it has been a full week since i set foot in my studio.  being too exhausted from walking handsome Henry and trying to run his energy down and feeding and walking and making sure he doesn't pee on anything.  i don't remember how long it took before diva calmed down (12 years, i think).  and kita was about 10 years.  i have a doctor appt tomorrow at 8am.  this means adding 30 minutes onto my "get ready" time (again).  and although i am totally smitten by this little creature, i am also resentful that i am bound to an earthly thing with a demanding schedule once again.  maybe i'm just tired.  maybe it will be good for me to get on a regular schedule.  maybe.  but.

ah the joys of a puppy

Henry is learning quick, thankfully.  i am exhausted, as he needs to go out constantly and i am still in no-sleep mode.  i am weepy, depressed, maudlin and pathetic.  so on that note, i bid you good day.

when i get a really really nice email, i save it in a folder called "nice things" and look through it when i feel like a boost.  here's a cool thing i got from Melody Ross at Brave Girls Camp:

You were not meant to fit in.  You were born to stand out.  Embrace that part of yourself.

it makes me smile to read that.  it goes on to say that we should never ever ever let anyone convince us that we should change, or basically that we need improvement, etc.

and that makes me smile.  I can convince myself to improve, but no one else can tell me what to change.  so so true.  only i can intuit the path i need to journey.  only i know what is best for me.  Me.  and it isn't necessarily a battle, but more of a conviction and standing firm.  A few months ago, for example,  a series of non-related events were thrown in my path like police stop sticks in front of a speeding felons car.  and it was then that i learned that, yes, it is a gentle thing to be the first to reach out and work things out with a misunderstanding.  but...there are times when it really needs to be the other person who makes the big effort.  That i am worthy of an apology.  and i had made the approach, but will not beg and wheedle and cajole.  i will be an adult and ask if they want to discuss, then move on.  in one case, it was a sad reckoning.  in two others, it became clear that i had been the guy with the mop at the end of the parade, and now - not so much.  those times are past.  and these lessons have been good now that we have Henry in our home:

it has always been my responsibility to care for the pets, whether i wanted to get up at the crack of dawn or not.  but there was discussion and promises to make this an equal share from day 1.  and guess what?  i will stick to those words, even if it means pee pee on the floor.  i will not spend my day following a puppy around - no matter how damn cute - to make sure there are no accidents, when there is another adult human who can.  and it will take a few weeks to train them both, but it can be done!

meanwhile, i need a hug, so i am wishing you a day as carefree as a puppy's, and enough love to smother you!

let the healing begin...

my honest to goodness 1st thought today was, "we're going to get a dog today."  Not sure where the thought came from.  didn't want a dog for any number of reasons, as you can imagine.  Husband and I decided to compromise, and go to the Antiquefest in the morning, then kayak in the afternoon.  we never got the boats.  as we worked our way to the exit, booth by booth, i spied a kennel with a "chug" in it, and there I found my husband knelt down whispering to the pup while rubbing a furry chin.  we hung around longer than we should, and when my husband said, "are you ready?" I reluctantly turned to leave.  so so cute this dog.  He actually meant, Are You Ready For Another Dog.  long story short, meet dog-as-yet-unnamed - part chihuahua and part pug.  he hasn't barked yet, is as happy as anything just to run in the back, loves the kids who came by, love Sadie the "porkie" terrier, peed on the floor already.  the house has had a great gaping exhale since diva died.  my heart has had no peace.  this dog who loves husband and i equally -  who began as neither his nor mine - has brought some life back to the house.  Bulimia cat is not as sure about this, but she/he is the same size as the dog, so it should be okay.  we are leaning toward the name Buddy, as he has been everyone's friend so far.  (after watching Despicable me last night, I was voting for Papoy - the name the minions had for "unicorn" but husband wasn't on board).  But Buddy is good.  

much lighter, thank you

a few days ago, i posted about weight gain clothes don't fit feeling yukky need to exercise yada yada.  so i decided to put my money where my mouth was, rather than another cupcake.  every morning, i've been getting up and watering the landscape plants and lawn. by hand.  this is a big job.  not only is the yard big, with many areas of landscaping, but the hose is coiled Just So on a hose holder thing just above my head on the side of the house.  so uncoiling, dragging and re-coiling is a good arm workout.  after that, i go for the walk that i used to take diva on.  only faster.  it isn't as bad as i thought it would be, emotionally,  and a pretty good clip when i'm walking alone.  it's about 20 minutes, so not too long and not too short.

today, i looked at my closets and thought - who are you kidding?  i know i purged them recently-ish, but i knew there were still a "few" things left that should find another home.  i started at 9am.  i am almost finished at 4:38.  there were tubs and tubs and tubs of stuff to go.  the big tubs.  40 gallon.  everything folded nice nice.  many tubs.  and i have a few thousand bucks worth of stuff to go to the consignment shop in town ...stuff i can make a buck off of because of the label.  some of it, i actually bought there originally.
and it really kind of made me ill to see all the money invested in....what?  clothes?  and i am no better or worse of a person.  i just have a fascination for pretty things.  maybe another addiction to break - shopping?  And husband too...he has his own wing at the thrift store.  so here we run around saying there's no money for this or that, yet...

okay, new day new way.  and the closets look great...my poor crammed dresser looks neat and emptied, and i feel lighter.  The dust that had collected in one of the closets has lodged in my sinuses, though, and my voice is a froggie croak.  BUT - i know that when i reach for a shirt - it will be the right size.  and there is still a boatload of stuff, which is truly embarrassing to have that much stuff.  but - new day new way.  we are off to the movies tonight - couldn't decide between Heat or Red2, so we picked Despicable Me2.  Bring it on, Agnes!

I'm off Facebook for a while, so I can spend my time better...in the real pool or walking, now that the heat wave is supposed to break.  And my reward - Orange is the New Black, on Netflix.  so good!

Clear it, clean it, make room for magic.....

from Brave Girls

2-fer on a hot friday

I have spent a number of days trying to decide how best to write this post - or whether to write it at all.  But I have always been 100% honest here, and sometimes more honest here than in my own head.  The fingers, they just take over and type out what they please.
And a series of conversations - some overheard, some intentionally held between myself and a BFF - have convinced me that this is something that needs to be said.  And even as I type those words, I fear rejection, of sorts, even though I don't know most of you.
When I first began this blog, way way back when, it was to purge my anguish at losing my beloved man-dog, Nikita.  It was intended to last a day, a month tops.  But on & on it went, as I discovered the world through new eyes and had experiences that I wanted to share, both good and bad.  There were rants and funny things and Things That Only Happen To Me.  There were videos and links to other blogs and websites.  I shared the ups and downs of being an artist, a stepmom, a dog mom, a daughter, a wife, an event planner, a radio personality,  etc.  My blog banner used to read "my life is a rickety zen circus," and that was the truth.  And i rolled with it.  and enjoyed a lot of it, and rolled my eyes at the rest.  or barfed it out here.
so here goes.

I am 5'2" tall and weighed in at 175 pounds yesterday at the doctor.  I am very unhappy about that.  My recent weigh gain has overshadowed any other thing in my life, except my grief over losing Diva dog.
So I guess this was not what you expected from an artist who blogs...shouldn't this be about spending endless happy hours in the studio, or promoting my workshop or book?  But today I need to get a little messy with y'all.

Here in my faceless blog, I could be anyone - tall blonde, short brunette, thin, heavy...anyone.  And I have been all those things, thanks to the magic of Clairol and spike heels and cheesecake, as the case may be.

So now, here's the part.  the part about being honest.  and having a whispered conversation.

Last year, a perfect storm hit me.  I quit smoking, I hit menopause, and my Diva dog began to fail.  and I began to sink into myself and I began to gain weight.  lots of weight.  And my life began being measured in dress sizes, rather than moments of savoring perfection and the gleaming mist of morning walks through the woods, much to my incredible chagrin and horror at what I perceived to be a shallowness turned on myself - no, I never noticed weight on others.  no, i never picked friends or made judgements about others based on their size.  just myself.  Just before I married, I was a size 0-2.  yes.  unhealthy, but that was the truth.  soon after the wedding,  it was a 4, then a 6.  Then I got scared.  Anything over a 6 was scary to me - it was the St. Johns Bay and White Stag department, wasn't it?  I hit size 8 and the preoccupation began, but i still was able to say "just a few pounds over."  (This all sounds so ridiculous as I write it, but I will continue in hopes of touching someone, or making myself look at this with fresh eyes). Then the 8's went to the thrift shop, as the 10's and 12's replaced them in the closet, and another round of closet cleanouts.  I am now a 14, teetering on a 16.  I wear a lot of sundresses, which this morning suddenly reminded me of mumu's, and all that connotation brings.  I am not in a good place in my head, and since I am home most of the day alone in my studio, have plenty of time to think.
When I've whispered to a friend or two how i feel, the first words are congratulations for quitting smoking, and how much healthier I must be.  But i'll be honest - I don't feel it.  My doc says that smoking changes your metabolism, and that it isn't necessarily eating more that cause the weight gain.  I wish it was just eating more, because then I'd simply eat less.  but i do eat less now.  but since i quit smoking a year ago June 15th, my cholesterol has doubled, my tri-g's are unprintable, and i fear i am headed for a heart attack if i don't do something.  the problem is, there is always something to stop that "something."  an injury, an ear infection, a heat wave, a continuous monsoon.  all very good excuses.
I try to apply the same "love the inside" rule I have for others, to myself.  but as I struggle in the dressing room to get out of a dress i'm stuck in, i do not love anything.  at that moment, I want my hips back, and my flat stomach back, and my non-flappy arms back.  and my diva back.  and it all jumbles into one sweaty mess that culminates with a slight ripping sound as i get free of the clothing and just.go.home.  and i scream at God the whole ride back that if this is a lesson, it should be f-ing over, because i have learned some things and why does EVERYthing have to be a lesson?

So these are the messy parts of me.  The parts that I shouldn't share.  the parts that the trendy art circle du jour would shun, because it seems as though everything should be glitterdust and birdsong.  and it isn't always.  but the fact that all you read is WonDeRfuL makes you feel even worse about not feeling 100% zippity do dah.  and my life is not horrible by any count...it's just that i have gained enough weight to really concern myself, and it is difficult for me to do the things i want to do, and sometimes to even move about.   I look in the mirror and i don't see myself.  and that is the most frustrating.  and if i'm being honest, which i always am here, i am relieved that my husband also gained weight when he quit smoking or else i'd be afraid he'd be grossed out by me.
All this being said, I do feel like a spoiled, shallow child...complaining about too much weight when people in many parts of the world would love a grab at too much weight as their main concern day-to-day.  But it is still my reality.
Now, you're looking for the happy ending?  well, how about a start at one?  I sent an email to a friend this morning which I'll paste here, since it's way past time to get the laundry started.  I have overcome many addictions in my life, on my own - from comic books to cocaine to nicotine.  and i should know best that One Day At A Time is more than just a good tv show from the past.  And my day started yesterday.

Last night, I swam 4 laps in a real pool with real people in a real bathing suit.  That was 4 laps more than I've swam in 15 years.  That was 1 bathing suit more than I've worn in 5 years.  That was as exposed as I've been to strangers in many years.  I was completely out of breath, my ears hurt, my legs shook, I had no form or rhythm, and I felt like people were yelling Thar She Blows.  But ....

I swam 4 laps in a real pool with real people in a real bathing suit.  

Next week, I will swim 6.  And I will stop buying clothes, hoping to find 1 cute outfit that will be a shield of invisibility.  It does not exist, and I am spending hundreds of dollars that we don't have for that nonsense, and I am hiding the bills from my husband.  The guilt stops here.  The lying stops here.  The self-disrespect stops here.  It will be a new journey - One day at a time, with no goal other than to get out and move a bit.  

So there it all is.  I lay my heart at your feet in hopes that you will exhale loudly and say Thank God Someone Said It First.  and we'll all go put on some flouncy bathing caps and swim a few laps.

so so much a poppin'

and then there's this from Brave Girls... (i'm not sure how to get the big white blob out, so deal)

Dear Courageous Girl, One of the paradoxes of life is that sometimes the very best decisions have the most difficult consequences. And sometimes what is best is not what we want most. And sometimes when we want to feel peace, we have to do something that feels painful first. Sometimes we have to do such hard things, and there's absolutely no other way. You can do it, though. You know what is the right thing to do. You know for sure in your gut and deep in your heart, and a million signs have led you to what you are supposed to do. It still feels so scary, so difficult, and so impossible, even for a very brave girl. Just know that most of the best things if life come after making the most difficult choices, and doing the hardest things, and taking the biggest risks. You really can do this, and miracles are going to happen when you do. You are so very very loved. xoxo

it is hot out.  Africa hot.  sizzle the feet on the pavement hot.  my friend walks her dog Sadie down the street and Sadie makes a beeline for the cool-ish grassy areas.  The lake by my house is blooming with algae, and really putting up a stink.  I will love this moment in February!  I am holding the heat-memories for the deepest & darkest of winter nights.  and then I'll likely say to myself, "how could I have possibly complained about the heat??"  it's quiet in my inbox, as friends travel about the world.  Am glad for the debriefing when they get home - traveling vicariously.
This morning, a follow up ENT appointment as one ear hopefully is mending, but now the other one starts complaining.  then - artmaking.  I began a special journal book for a very special friend, and hope to finish it today.  it's been through 2 incarnations already!  hard to make something special enough.  okay - go enjoy your day.  i prescribe ice cream for breakfast, Italian ice for lunch, and a smooth gelato for dinner.  just to keep cool with, understand.

just when ya think...

it's no surprise or secret that my grieving continues for my Diva.  At the oddest moments, it will envelope me, and I let it have it's way with me.  It's the only way.  But I am moving about in the world normally, and am glad for the quiet nights when I can remember Special Moments, with a smile rather than the waterworks.  And I recognize that the emotional outpouring is not just for Diva, but for the 30 years of a lifestyle tailored to meet the needs of dogs, cats and humans-other-than-myself.  And the immense freedom that is now mine, yet still allowing for respect for the Incredible love and companionship that these 4-legged lives brought to me.  And isn't it just ironic when an email comes to you on just the right morning...a morning following a day when maybe you accidentally pulled a can of dog food from a grocery shelf as you zombied through the store and then remembered...or watched an episode of Cesar Millan and suddenly the thought was almost audible "but you don't have a dog anymore."...and this email comes to you from a friend, maybe, or a stranger, maybe, but either way you just know it was Perfect in it's message and it's timing, and your heart clutches a little, and eases a little and it knows that it knew that...and the message says:

I just want you to know, Linda, that those animals you've known, who've moved beyond the veils of time and space, were forever changed by your love, they're alive and well, and they've banded together to ask me a favor... that I make sure you get this message. 

This morning, as I rolled out of bed a full 2 hours later than usual and 3 hours later than planned, and my puffy feet touched the floor and my ear began screaming in pain and various parts of my body reminded me that the weight gain Was Killing Them, this morning when all this happened - i stopped.  just sat for a minute, listening to the cardinal in the tree outside my balcony, and had an ah-ha! moment.  My body was manifesting what my spirit was trying to tell me.  Hellllooo!  Me - the one who feels every whisper of an intuition and call of Spirit, had fallen into single focus.  and what was that focus?  something I don't have but wanted.  it was a constant on my mind that i wanted this thing.  rather like Agnes, in her Need for a unicorn...


So I had to spend sometime pulling at the thread until the work unraveled back to the dropped stitch, and begin again.  I'm a firm believer in beginning again.  in asking for an apology or forgiveness - from others or from yourself - then just begin again.  don't sit in the ashes.  start beginning again. :)  And for me, I apologized to mySelf for getting far enough away from my centered tether that my body had begun to protest...that in desperation, ground control had radioed Major Tom to get back.  My days used to begin with quiet time at the table, a steamy mug of freshly ground coffee wafting at me.  I would have a pen and a journal ready, should any inspiration or "to do" item hit my brain.  (once it's on paper, it won't clang around in your brain distracting you).  I would watch the sun rise and listen as the world woke up.  By then, I would have a clear vision of how my day should look.  but lately, since the frustration of not being able to have this Thing has overridden my best Self and pulled my focus, well, out of focus.  Rather than meet the day in quiet gratitude, I rolled over and slept through it's awakening.  rather than being grateful for the opportunity to have the time and breath to watch the sky change from indigo to payne's grey to pinky dawn, i would pull the sheet up and start grumpy.  and not so much grumpy as fearful.  this Thing loomed larger every day, and took up more and more of my time as i focused on it, nudging out the sweetness that can be every day.  and although it is an important thing, I wasn't listening to the still, quiet, small voice within me...the feather-whisper of my spirit that was leading me, the Spirit that was saying Never Fear.  and Your Path Is Different From That.  and so we just stopped, my spirit & I.  Stopped and waited til I would shake myself awake and turn around and Begin Again.  and in stopping, became sedentary and lazy and the view never changed, so the things immediately in front of me became my focus, rather than the things i needed to do in order to accomplish the Bigger Things About to Come.  and they are big.  perhaps thats why i stopped, and my posts became whiney and not so edifying ... fear of accomplishing the task?  maybe a little side order of Do I Deserve This?  yes, i could continue to live a tiny life in my studio making art and wishing for things i don't have.  it would be a life.  but not the life that was given to me - not the life demanded of me.  not the life that would fulfill my soul and my purpose for being here on this earth.  and so, I apologize to you, dedicated friend, for reading through the mess that my posts had become and will start beginning, again.
wishing you a day of stepping out of the ash pile, wiping your feet and running toward your destiny.  may it run to meet you half way.  with chocolate and lemonade.

a favor to ask

If you work with the public in any form, please be nice.  please be thoughtful.  be helpful.  please remember that when someone makes an inquiry call to the business that is paying you to be pleasant and helpful and courteous, the caller is generally pulling together many many details of a plan, all while the cat is throwing up, the washing machine is going BAM BAM BAM downstairs, and the caller also has a raging ear infection.  so please practice active listening, general etiquette, and don't rush them off the phone because a cute guy is coming toward your station and you don't want the person at the next station to snag this treasure.  it is also likely that the caller has no interest whatsofreakingever in pulling together these plans, but must in the interest of marital harmony and that dreaded C word - compromise.  damn it. twice.
and thank you so much for listening.

here's a portion of a post from January... it reminded me of itself again today:

female friendships are so so important, and we are wired for them.  as far back as cavewomen time - the men went out to kabong dinner over the head, and the women stayed behind together doing the laundry or whatever they did back then.  women have always gathered.  and whether the gathering is of two or three, or 20 or 200, there is a release of spirit that comes when we gather...a sprinkling of golden light that surrounds like-minded women gathered together for the purpose of enjoying one another's company and learning from each other.  each woman has a purpose in the group - whether it be teacher, learner (yes - "learner" is a purpose),  edifier, whatever...you've seen it, felt it.  and the further from home you gather, the closer to your deepest Self you are able to get to.  that's where the gold is.  the gathering cannot be forced or repeated exactly ever again.  each person in each moment will never not ever be the same, so each moment will never be the same.  does that make sense? 

As I prepare my heart and my offering to go here, I am grateful for the chance to gather...so grateful...

( if for some reason the link won't work, type in http://artstreamstudios.com/arc/index.htm)

yes, I know - it's been a while since I landed here to share random bits that fly out of my brain.
It's been hot and rainy and humid Every Single Day, which in February would be nice to grab a little of!  But all strung together like this, it just saps my motivation.  we've had Florida's weather - building humidity in the morning leading to pretty intense rain in the afternoon.  But you didn't come here to talk about the weather, did you?
okay then - how about this...an all-inclusive art camp on a private island?  yes.  includes supplies.  yes.  I can feel the ahhh now!  wanna?  just 7 spots left.
This is a self-care time for me...today, a mole gets checked at the dermatologist, next week, the endocrinologist takes a look at my thyroid (i simply do not eat enough to cause this amount of weight gain), and next month the orthodontist will begin correcting what some bad dentistry did.  I'd say that all qualifies as self care!
some back-to-back travel time coming ... husband has a sudden need to go to Wisconsin to visit relatives.  a 15-hour drive.  yes, the 2 of us in a car for 15 hours.  we won't make it down the street.  the day we get home (or released on our own recognizance), I do laundry, repack and go to Art Camp (above), then leave from there to go to My Rock Fairy's house for some incredible girl time.  A little pre-stressed about the schedule, but will ease into it and ahhhh as soon as we begin.  Am looking forward to most of the itinerary!  not the drive(s).  maybe i'll just abandon my car and fly.  or just not drive back.  :)
Recently, my thoughts have turned and returned to friends from the past...in dreams and in waking moments, a friend's face will come into focus and I'll wonder why our relationship seemed to just melt away...why we stopped calling one another or emailing or getting together...sometimes communications spacing themselves out in the progression of a busy life interrupting a sought-after life...sometimes abruptly and without warning and with no chance for reconciliation.  I think everyone has had friendships like these, so there's no use beating yourself up over it, wondering What Did I Do??  I think if you've been a "bestie" with someone long enough, and one of those 2 scenarios happens, it's a shame either way.  "busy" is a very sad excuse for not keeping in touch with a HeartThread.  Carpools and family events and work and everything that goes into a day can leave not-a-crumb's worth of time.  But I contend that there's always a minute somewhere to rip off a quick email saying Sorry I'm So Busy But I Love You.  and the 2nd scenario - to abruptly cut off all communication without explanation...well, that's just hurtful.  intentionally hurtful.  I've been on the receiving end of it and for some time would email the person asking what was up, but I realized that one of two things were happening;  either they were at a place where things were ready to explode in their life, and to speak of it would pop the balloon and irreparable events would begin.  Or, they were just following what they learned and were being hurtful.  I have to admit that I had a close friend many many years ago - we saw each other every day and spoke on the phone as much, also.  Following a bad breakup of a rubbish relationship, I needed to Just Be Alone with myself...there were a whole bunch of life changes going on at once, and i couldn't be the type of friend i wanted to be.  so i shut everyone out.  her included.  I saw her once since then - she came to one of my art openings with a mutual friend.  It was awkward.  what do you say after all that time?  here's what you say:  you look the person in the eye, and say, from the heart, I'm Sorry.  that's all it will take.  yes, they are due an explanation, because you held their heart for so long.  and if distance prevents the look-in-the-eye part, then a phone call will do.  it's that simple, and that complex at the same time.  women are built for grudge, but they are also built for forgiveness.  it's part of our survival makeup.  the whole "fool me once" thing.  there is a website called regrets and apologies where you can also lay these tracks down...a practice run, or maybe the intended recipient is unavailable. love it.
my wish for you today is that you will leave trails of sweetness wherever you go...

Happy Independence Day

Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.
Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.
But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate -- we can not consecrate -- we can not hallow -- this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us -- that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion -- that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain -- that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom -- and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.

2fer

some thoughts

...the long, slow, deep breath - the gathering in of strength - that precedes a daring leap into the unknown.  Teetering on the brink is the stuff nightmares are made of, yet taken in slow motion, the same loss of balance becomes more dreamlike.  The Fertile Void can be where we let go of demons and demands we don't need anymore and begin building new dreams, one well-lived day at a time.

-Suzanne Braun Levine, Inventing The Rest Of Our Lives

(print by Tracie Andrews)

these prints found here