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

Amish paradise

ok. deep cleansing breath. *sigh* okay. oh y'all! (i wail and wring my hands here) (fat tear slides down cheek). i pray constantly CONSTANTLY that the fates that decided my life would be star-crossed between I Love Lucy and Seinfeld would reconsider. and let me help choose this time. i mean, okay, i AM aware it could be worse, my life...i could have gotten the whole pearl-wearing Donna Reed thing. or Mrs. Partridge. stuck on that damn bus with those kids all banging tambourines not in time with the music and what was that they thought we wouldn't notice the youngest boy was a DIFFERENT BOY ENTIRELY half way through?? i mean, did Shirley just get sick and tired of the other one and swap him out at 6th grade parent day? oy. but back to me. it's my party and i'll cry if i want to. i can't though...i shrug my shoulders like Uncle Sam-the-garbage and shuffle on to the next nightmare of an Incident which is my life. as best as i can figure, the onslaught began friday when i used the term "slack assed wench" in a meeting with my new boss. i picked this term up from Blue Poppy's blog (which is resting) and the term just tickled me. it just rolls off the tongue. and so it did. (you try saying it and you'll see - slack assed wench. say it). of course another team member had just completed a tirade in which the string of words went something like "taking one up the butt for the team" and so it went. we are a colorful team. and somewhat used to sailor-like language from the customers we strive to satisfy. did i mention this was a meeting with our new boss? did i mention she is wonderful and got us, no not raises, but the pima cotton shirts we demanded with the company logo on it (not realizing that produce and insults would be hurled at us when we stopped for some milk on the way home, so beloved is my company). so anyway, the new boss is a quiet VERY quiet soft-spoken woman. in fact so soft-spoken, her words go IN instead of coming OUT of her mouth. she is still trying to get the lay of the proverbial land at the office, so is nice to everyone. in case. me being ever-helpful, had a private meeting with her and laid out the inner dynamics as best i knew them. it's what i do. so i came home after all that day was finally over, and determined it would be a good weekend...art, watching my hawk try to hatch those eggs, and all the et ceterati that comprises a Good Weekend. so imagine my surprise when the gods of thunder rolled through friday night and Diva took to pacing incessantly across my head, drooling in my ear. finally i got up at 5am. in part because a gypsy woman on the west coast is sending messages to my dog to wake me up to make art, and in part because, i don't know why the other part. must've just been the gypsy. so i make art. then get my hair done. then, 2 days after i've paid off my car, yeah THAT day, it starts going RRRRCRUNK whenever it moves, pretty much. oy. and my mechanic is on vacation, no doubt with the procedes from repairing Youngblood's car. okay, so i'll let it rest and make more art. well, first i'll check my email. but wait, first i'll get my IPod going. oh wait...the screen is blank. blank. no musica. de nada. no va. chest clutch. be calm. check emails. take aspirin. get in car quietly so as not to disturb it and buy new Ipod. WHAT! no computer...screen blank. blank! and Pierre is in Vegas. heyyyy...maybe with my mechanic? naw. i am Amish. no car. no IPod. no computer. cold sweat. panic rising. husband's car. whew. this is going long and i sense i'm losing your attention, so let me just say that 3 hours after you try to make your shiny new green nano ipod work, please just call Apple support. they live in this country. they are nice. they are actually helpful. and they have Magic to make things work that didn't by doing the self-same thing you just did oh say 40 times before. magic i tell you. i asked, but no they don't do cars. so it seemed like a good time for dinner. so guess where i went? husband & i went to a sushi restaurant. oh stop - you are already laughing thinking i ordered something freaky like baby octopus by accident, right. guffaw. no but i will say that in Sushi-speak, "crunchy" does not mean fried, or coated with potato chips, or crouton-like. and those teeny red beads are NOT ice cream sprinkles. 'kay. so today thankfully is the last day of the weekend - the last day where i am footloose and on my own to determine my destiny. so i went grocery shopping. did i mention it was warm here today? 78. and remember, my air conditioning blew up Monster green stuff last week? so okay. let's just say that IF you happen to leave a bag of groceries in the car by accident, pray, people, pray that it does not contain 18 eggs, one of which was cracked and you didn't notice. unless Gus slammed it into the cart and it broke just prior to purchase. moot point. my car smells like a medieval hearse. so bad so bad. what is the lesson in all this...this? i have no freaking idea, but i'm torn between being totally pissed off at the life-choosing fates, and praying to God Yahweh begging Him BEGGING him to reconsider a few things. and reminding him that surely one Job in the Bible was Plenty and Enough. now, i am fully aware that these few days is not even a scratch of a tick on the Bad Things scale if viewed from a Universal viewpoint. it was only meant to inform and amuse. and do not try this at home. i'm a trained professional. so good night y'all....guess where i'm going right now? guess...yup. a date with a sponge and carpet cleaner and a pile of cat yark. sleep well. L.

it's been a long week! with a 3-person department, if one person is crabby, that's one-third of the people in a bad mood. just remember that. and it wasn't me. with the new buds bursting on the trees, and a warm breeze skipping about today, a little more of that soul-tectonic shifting has been going on...too soon to form into words...just a niggling of a nebulus of an idea...a thought...a feeling...it's subject line reads: Life vs. Lifestyle. my computer continues to sputter along, so i'll close 1 eye, cross my fingers and hope that it continues on until i can leave it with Pierre. so i've had enough of today for now...what with clawless cats escaping and all manner of chaos at home. so i'm signing off for now. tomorrow...a 6am wakeup call to the worktable....a bunch of Becky Home ec-y fun...a hair appointment....and more art. i'm determined to squeeze in a neighborhood-wide garage sale - that usually nets me tons o' art stuff! xoxL.

Mariah & her babes 2006

Mariah was attacked and nearly killed by another female Peregrine last Sunday...she is receiving excellent care, thanks to the intervention of some humans who stopped the attack. say a prayer for her, please. L.

done!

It was madness trying to photograph this...MADNESS! if you've ever seen one of my altered boxes or shrines in person, you know the detail work involved. to try and capture that was just a frustration. but finally i just said "done" and sent this off. so much has been going on, i almost didn't realize it was time for that to get sent. still no conclusive answer on the hospital deal, so i'll just go on with my life and let them muddle it out. husband called from Vermont and he had thrown his back out...could hardly stand up. he went to a sales call with untied shoes because he couldn't bend down. i say they are lucky he had pants on. he is still in excruciating pain, but like a man, is still trying to do ManStuff. if i say anything, it only makes him more determined, so i walk in front of him and drop stuff and ask him to pick it up. when he can't bend over, then i get to yell at him. what a crew. i'm still trying to get pictures of my new hawk, Willett, in her nest. she is absolutely gorgeous. a Coopers Hawk. she poses on a branch for me in the morning, but i usually only have my camera phone, so the pictures aren't so hot. Kaver never made it back to the nest this year, and a new couple are in town. the female took Mariah to the ground and almost killed her. she was rescued by human interveners and is getting excellent medical care, of this i am positive. i'm usually a proponent of let nature deal with nature, but am very very glad people stepped in this time...i mean this is Mariah. we have a bobcat in the area, along with the coyotes. and the owls have returned. i love the owls, but since they are natural predators of hawks, i'm a bit nervous of them being so close. all of nature is waking up...buds popping on tree branches, daffodils and trillium starting to bloom. it is such a relief to just walk outside without having to bundle up! i am going in to work tomorrow to try to negotiate an early release on wednesdays...i need my yoga class...last week proved to me just how "off my mat" i've gotten. my 4-footers have been playing pranks...i go to sleep with Diva all spooned next to me, and this morning i woke up with a paw on my cheek - a kitty paw. Diva was in her closet retreat area, and Pearl had snuck in next to me. it is an organized and determined effort to drive me to madness. never trust anything with more feet than you, that's my advice. i am headed to Boston in about 2 weeks...traded NYC for Boston. very excited. and depending on how my hospital claims get settled, possibly headed off on a Girl Expedition somewhere oceanic. i am never not ever putting off again. as $$ allow, i'm allowing it. and now - time for dinner. xoxL.

matters of the heart

3am...woken out of a sound sleep. chest pains. 3:30 wake husband. and thus begins a 15 hour odyssey in the Incidents at the ER. which include no food from noon sunday till 9pm monday, due to error, being shot up with benadryl and something else to alleviate the allergic reaction to IV dye, and oh - how could i forget? the ER lockdown when 2 gang members were shot and accidentally brought to the same hospital. all this with no cell reception, shower, toothbrush, or clean underpants. (well, they were clean, but after 12 hours, i need a little freshenup). will take you on this journey later. i am currently on the lam, just a bit, as they wanted me overnight, but i had had plenty enough by 5pm. so by 8pm when they announced my bed was ready upstairs, it confused me since they never asked ME how i felt about being officially admitted. i think if i was still alive after being in their care for 15 hours, i could safely take my chances at home with my diva dog and mommy. (i sent husband to Vermont to make some money to pay for this amusement ride. so i sit freshly showered, clean underpants, and hunger-migraine down to a tolerable level. i will now go eat. and ps, i am so chock full of radioactive gunk, i'll NEVER make it through the airport security. Linda

I was taunted and challenged by a friend to pick a time to set aside for sacred art time. trying to get back into my usual rhythm of life, i picked saturday morning 6am-8am. friday night, i set my alarm for 5:59 and pulled the covers up. somewhere around 2-3am, my hillbilly husband came in from some sort of ugly fish fishing adventure with his ManPal, and decided to watch some TV before falling asleep. i reset my alarm for 7am, figuring at least i'd get an hour in the studio, but would definitely need the extra hour of sleep. do ya see what's happening here? okay, so wait...still more. i felt guilty about the alarm clock thing, but figured my friend is in Japan and would Never Know. what i didn't know was, she had been in touch with diva by some sort of radar and at 5:45am, diva began nudging me in an urgent way. the minute i got up to let her use her potty, she snuggled onto my pillow, and i swear she gave me The Paw and said "go to your studio." so i did. and began work on the project i had dutifully mapped out the past couple nights. well, i say began. i began trying to work with the paperclay, but hated it for the job i needed it to do. so before i got frustrated and desperate, i sat down with a pencil and paper and began to write. and write. and write. i won't bore you with the details, but it was good. you see, i have a book i've been trying to read called Creative Awakenings. every time i even look at it, i get choked up. and if you notice, a few recent smarmy posts about people throwing themselves off the ledge hoping the universe will catch them? well, short answer: sour grapes. fear. that sort of stuff. so this book has scared me more than Monster Movie Matinee used to. the challenge of it all. and although i am quite certain in my soul and toes that i do not want to be a fulltime artist for the right reasons, there has been another Thing in my heart of hearts for so many years. and THAT is what has been hiding behind the word "art" in all the "leap for the stars" messages to me. yes...i am an artist. yes, i do believe i am a good one. but i feel my (forgive me for using this word...) Journey is another one. not to leave art by the side, but to begin to Live The Dream. i was in tears by the time i was done. it was a relief to know what the lurker had been in heart all this time. i will post more about that later. i'm still working on my CrowWoman, and getting tired! diva had a mixed review at her vet appt today ...she was very very good and didn't bite the vet, which surprised me...the vet doesn't know her well yet and just took it for granted that i would have warned her if there was danger. i thought i'd see how long she could go (diva) before the strain of being good gave out. she even had a spa day in the back without incident. she does have 2 tumors though. rather large. 1 is a fatty tumor which is no big deal to remove. the other...we won't know until surgery day exactly what it is. so a full day all around. thank you for being on this journey with me, y'all. now happy Easter, or Mazel Tov, or whatever you may celebrate....L.

so before the Blue Screen Of Death rears it's ugly head again...a quick post. first: Happy Easter, Happy Passover, and to all who are celebrating anything else: the best of it. so here's my new plan for Life: it's simple. almost mathematical in it's resolution. my priorities are this, and in order of importance (mostly): Diva, art, personal hygiene, sustenance, everything else. So, from Now On, weekdays will follow the same general rut -er- schedule in the morning, however, i will obey my body after....eat? sleep? play with dog? now, weekends...6am-8am sat - sacred art time. door to studio closed...IPod on earbleed volume if need be...no disturbances. throughout the week i will gel an idea to work on. after 8am - walk the dog, take a break, then start laundry and make more studio time. my pulse is racing already! this schedule should please any West Coast Stalker, and makes me happy. i fear Swirly, and will bow to her wisdom. sunday - much as it pains me...weggers. all this Great Big Life laid out like this is astounding, i know. however, the other Big Change is this: I will only be posting on weekends. i am too tired during the week to do anyone any good, and will end up being a downer, so hopefully i'll save up the good stuff and spew it forth on the weekend. this will save YOU time, as well...not having to check back. (i'm totally killing myself with chuckles here...as if the world is holding it's breath just waiting for my next post!) (although, according to my statchecker, there are readers in Germany, the Ukraine, Canada, Japan, and a slew of other places that don't even speak my language. go figure). in between posts, amuse yourself with Dad Gone Mad blog. he is one of the funniest people i've read, and now has a new book. i'm too tired to find his link, but google him. i'm also going to start belly dancing, if Lynn ever calls me back to book a time. (READING THIS BLOG DOES NOT CONSTITUTE BEING IN TOUCH... I DON"T KNOW YOU"RE READING IT AND THINK YOU'RE MAD AT ME!). love you Lynn. so i'm off to tickle diva's tummy...grandma stole her thursday and just returned her. no doubt with diarrhea as usual. i'll let you know how the Plan goes. you know me. L.

today was to be my Art Day...i crammed all my Chore-type things into yesterday...made husband do the laundry...and then woke up today with that focused, stillness that said YES to my artistic bones. but first but first but first. then it was 1 o'clock before i rolled out the canvas-y fabric that was to be the background to the backing of a quilt for G. i stared at it. and felt that old familiar lack of enthusiasm feeling...not for this project, because it is fabulous and she is fabulous...just a feeling of blechh, as they used to say in MAD magazine. i could just go nap for the rest of the day till it's time for bed. i have been chasing myself around for months now and don't understand the lack of ease in my own skin, or own Self. i feel challenged by my own art...a chip on the shoulder type of challenge. last night, as i dozed on the couch with the last flicker of firelight dancing in the fireplace, my eyes closed, and with a quick smell of woodsmoke i thought, "i hope the wind doesn't blow embers onto the roof," because my half-awake mind is not to be trusted. and i asked my sleepy self how i would feel if my studio were to be gone ...by fire or whatever means. and in that half awake/half asleep nether place, i thought "relieved." which probably accounts for my chasing a dancing muse on roller skates, as cheryl ann costa says. i feel out of sorts and somewhat unSelf-like..not depressed...just, well: BLECHH. it's as if the delicate balance was tipped when i gave over 2 more days to the Big Girl Job. when i was a news anchor, we had a girl that worked 4 hours a week as a reporter, and the rest of the time she was a waitress at a local restaurant. but when you asked her what she did for a living, she'd always say she was a reporter. newsrooms being the cold, heart-ripping, backstabbing, sabotaging places they are, we'd say that hour-for-hour she was a waitress who worked as a reporter part-time. but see now i understand better. i "AM" an artist....it's WHO i am. i now only have 1-ish days to work at it but i am no less an artist. i just hate to be in the middle of the flow of it all and have to stop to get my school clothes ready for monday and the bus. i may have to quit the big girl thing. but for now, i've probably sucked any life that you may have had right out, so i'll go be a dark cloud elsewhere. sorry. it's just those plates shifting beneath the crust. L.

the verdict: well, remember when there was a huge recall on contact lens solution because it was tainted and people were going blind? i thought "how lucky I'm wearing glasses for a while!" and went about life. well i finally got around to re-upping my prescription, got my contacts, and had this huge bottle of contact solution from before, so used it. der. you know the rest. someone has replaced my left eye with a fireball candy. oh so attractive, and feels absolutely brilliant....sort of like opening your eyes in a tanning booth. for 5 minutes. i would imagine, since that's one faux pas i've yet to commit. so i have drops and will likely make a full recovery. new topic. i feel out-of-the-loop. and not to drag last year around like a woobie, but last year was so very....everything. i quit smoking, i found my inner center, my spiritual place, and actually anchored it...my art - although not prolific as in the past - was special and meaningful, and had begun to speak to me again...i felt like every salad dressing commercial - very hip, very knowing, very Carole King. as these days drag by, i feel more left- brained or no-brained. very forgetful. very, well, empty. where things of wonder found me last year, i now find that i have to go looking for them. i seem to find them, but that quiet, gentle whisper of certainty...that almost clairvoyance with nature - not as evident unless i spend time waiting and searching. perhaps that's the lesson for this year....stop. look. listen. funny how it all comes back to the playground. and as my days become filled with work/sleep/work, i think i may miss my dedicated art time like a best friend at the end of summer camp. i've been trying to finish a quilt for a very special person since Last Year, and sheesh. last year i felt full and able...i felt like a nuturer. now, i just want my Girl Posse to hold me up and say nice things and remind me that things are not lost if someone remembers them. maybe i'm just tired. maybe i need a break. maybe as i suspect, Change is coming, things are shifting tectonically. maybe. but you know, right now i'm exhausted and feel a pointless ramble coming on, so night y'all. L.

so how do you know? it seems every area of my life has growing pains right now. and yet...i feel like this has been a year of non-growth...almost stagnation...i find myself in nearly the same mindset as last year...definately in the same living circumstances and job and all the exteriorly measured things on a checklist. but what did i crave last year? what did i want to strive for? what was my passionate wish to make true? i am here. it isn't a bad "here," externally speaking. i have no complaints about a steady job and nice house and food and all those things that make you silently touch wood or cross yourself gratefully when talking to others that don't have them. but inside...and the outward manifestation of that internal compass...where is that pointing? and am i pointing in the same direction? i don't think so. and i wonder why. things got busy. yes, but if a passion is truly a Passion, then busy can't get busy enough to deter you. am i afraid to make a move, so i stand cement-footed to my easy way of life? maybe. fear and i are old friends. but make a move from what, and to what? i'm not a person who can stand on the edge, close my eyes, and swan dive off into whatever-ness hoping that somehow i'll snag on a branch and live happily ever after. i'm the one who needs to see if there's rock below, or water, and how deep, and how cold, and are there any fish in it...any big fish? you get the point. i need guarantees. or at least a plan A and a plan B. i don't want to fling off my somewhat ordinary days for the unknown, having established that in my life, the unknown has never been kind. so, having also established that i don't really care to make art my full time job, what dream goes in the void? would i like to be a full time artist (as if it could be turned on and off with the clock!)...yes, i would. but not to depend on sales of sculptures and commissions to feed the belly. just to be able to create for the sheer expression of it...yes! but what a luxury. and why is that? so i sit tonight, with the best cup of tea ever, a quiet house, and my thoughts. and a gentle tugging and urging and slightly uncomfortable feeling that tells me Change is in the wind...the crows know, as they swarmed my house today. my time for Change is usually August...but hell, maybe menopause throws that off too. but i feel like some time in a totally inspiring environment is needed...an overload of the senses is in order...new food...new smells...news bright colors...and sounds...and at the same time, some extended, focused down time to re-set the course, gather the sails, and do whatever else sailors do to get their ship together and out of the safe harbor, and into adventure. ahoy y'all....L.

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.