Monday, July 31, 2006

"To Forgive or not to Forgive"

* Blogger would not let me upload a picture*
Two members of this blogging community triggered my subject choice for today's post. I quote Susannah from her post yesterday, "I would write a letter to my father and tell him I forgive him." Then I'll also quote bb from her post, "And then Susannah's last paragraph threw me."
I admire both of these women and they make that a very easy thing to do. I feel smitten by their bright minds, stirring posts and the heart that transcends space and time, through my screen and into my life. I feel this development with other's also and relish in these new relationships that are creating freedom from lingering issues that hold me back from becoming the strong being that I was meant to be. This is a magical process that I am personally experiencing as well as watching it happen in other's. Kudos to all of you for braving these waters and remaining open to change, growth and new love.

So, my subject is forgiveness and my opinion about it's importance in my life. It has been difficult to have serious, life changing experiences and reasons to have to forgive. Everyone eventually is faced with the challenge to forgive, or to have to be forgiven. In my case, the opportunities came early in life and I had to deal with different people and different reasons to extend forgiveness. In truth?.....I didn't forgive for years and I suffered the very pain that I so desperately wanted to inflict on those who had hurt me. My unforgiveness turned into resentment....
"Resentment...that poison that rots the bones
The bones that hold up the skin
The skin that carries the smile
The smile that is a lie
The lie that says... I'm fine"

No one can be forced to forgive. Forgiveness is a journey that is paved with ruts and ditches and holds no honorable acknowledgements. It is a very personal private transition that no one wants to boast about. There are no feelings of accomplishment, just a quiet knowing that humble wisdom now resides along with the pain.
I have forgiven~I choose to forgive today~I will forgive tomorrow

But, you will hear no details.....because wisdoms whispers cannot be heard above pains bellow.

Saturday, July 29, 2006

"Bird of Armor"

Made of metal not able to fly

wings carved from this clump of heavy substance

hewn into the shape of something meant to soar

some cruel joke that has no understanding

standing very still waiting for the burst of wind

that is big enough to lift this load

into the sky and far away

where other birds are made by something

bigger than man

Friday, July 28, 2006

"Music from the Bloom Box"

Sometimes a few of us feel at least a little bit special. Some feel that we learn, change and grow everyday. Most of us have some kind of hope for our futures and would like to think that our later years will be filled with wisdom. But, let's get back to today and how you feel right now about yourself......Are you intriguing? Do you feel compelling? How about forceful or exotic?

My goal today is to explore the meanings behind these 4 words. I chose them randomly because they are words that I like to let roll off my tongue and I find them mysterious and want them to become a part of me...........lets dig deeper, word by word.....

intriguing~ absorbing~fascinating~engaging~captivating~compelling~interesting


forceful~strong~vigorous~powerful~impressive~efficient~mighty~dynamic~potent ~energetic~emphatic~intense~robust


As I typed each word I thought, "I want to be that! And that one too!" Each new description, though a part of another word, was still a special word all of it's own. Are you one of these, or all of them? Do you relate more to just part of the definition and not the word as a whole? For instance, some of us may feel strong, but not impressive. We may feel peculiar, but not marvelous. But....lets pretend that we must accept every part of the word and it's definition. If you are interesting, then you are captivating also. If you are sound, then you are also powerful.

Imagine yourself as ALL of these now!

When I read these words, I think of many of you. I think of your shared stories and the brave souls that are bared on a daily basis. I think of the expressed pain and your scared toes that test the waters and then dive in.

These words are you.....Say what you are out loud...."I am fascinating....."

Bloom today. Take off the lid and sing to yourself about you and how truly intriguing, compelling, forceful and exotic you really are, and use the entire definition.

You deserve it
You deserve to Bloom
Then tell me how this felt, if you wish to. :)

Thursday, July 27, 2006

"Feeling Yellow"

Yellow skin, yellow hair
If I were blue, I'd be sad
I'm not depressed
If I were red, I'd be mad
I'm not angry
If I were white, I'd be enlightened
I don't understand
If I were green, I'd want more
I don't want anything
If I were pink, I'd be dancing
I'm lying down
And I'm yellow today
Mellow yellow
Dull brained
Lethargic limbs
Perhaps bored
At least yellow is
the color of the Sun

Tuesday, July 25, 2006

"Pictures" to go... with the story below...

The star of my story....How cute is she?!!!!
"These are all for me?"
"The Cheese Factory" dinner and a respite from the heat!
"Love" in the form of a hotel sculpture.
If you haven't our story below.
Love you all a bunch! :)

Monday, July 24, 2006

Love Carved in Clay

I'm driving down the freeway going north. Huge white, pink and magenta colored oleanders line the median, a riotous burst of floral display, offsetting the impatience of the drivers. My thoughts are focused on the girl who waits for my arrival. The girl who weighed 10 lbs 2 ounces at her birth, who clung to me throughout her childhood as if letting go meant I would somehow vanish and the daughter who's voice fills my heart. It is hot outside and my air-conditioning is blasting as I am passing digitally lit signs that say, "Flex Your Power & Reduce Your Use" I should feel guilty because I am traveling at least 8 miles over the speed limit, but I don't, because I''m one of the impatient drivers. I too, am in a hurry to get to my destination.
My cel rings and there is a squeal of excitement as I inform her that I am just down the street from her apartment. I look in the rear view mirror to check my lipstick and I am smiling....suddenly the more important reflection. I ring the doorbell and I hear that same voice loudly sing-song, "Mommy!..." as she swings wide the door and we embrace. I bury my face in her long hair and take a deep breath. She smells that same sweet, bubble gum sort of way and my heart is home. My mind automatically flashes back to the million times I have inhaled that smell, her smell, that is so much like mine, yet owned by her. She immediately starts informing me of all that is relevant in her life as she packs a quick bag for the weekend. She is an expert at packing, all swift hands and mindless actions, and little does she know, that the sound of her voice briefly fades as I momentarily mourn the fact that she has spent a good portion of her childhood packing overnight bags for days that she had to spend away from me. Her mouth is still moving, but the voice is silenced as my noisy brain tries to focus back to right now, instead of long ago yesterday's. I begin to assess her physically.......she has lost some weight (I hope she's eating enough) she's very tan (she must not be using sunscreen) she looks tired (too much going out with friends). I'm such a Mom.

We did what most girls like to do best. We shopped, ate out, watched movies, ate ice cream and cheese cake, and then we slept in. I had made her some jewelry and here she is deciding which one was her favorite, she had a hard time deciding. I never have a hard time deciding what to make for her because I want to give her everything. Only common sense keeps me from doing this, but it is an impulse I have to restrain.

We went to "The Cheesecake Factory" for dinner. Everyone was there...who wanted to cook in this weather? While waiting, I stared at people, their clothes, shoes, hair styles and my daughter watches me stare. Usually she elbows me and tells me to stop it, but I think she has now inherited this behavior. We stared at each other staring at other's (?) Our server was kind enough to take our picture amongst all of the chaos. Sissy looks beautiful, I look like I'm showing you that I still have all of my teeth. Actually, I was telling him which button to press, while trying not to move my lips, ventriloquist style :)

We stayed in a hotel, as she only has a twin sized bed we're she is living with 3 other girls. Our room had a small sitting area and a big king bed. We always inspect our space and Ooooo at the miniature bottles of shampoo, conditioner, soaps and lotion. We always do this ritual no matter how many times we have taken a trip together. Do all woman do this? Do we all just adore miniature versions of cheap cleansing products?..... We strip the bed of the top spread because we think it's gross and we move in. I organize my stuff (like the neurotic firstborn that I am) and she turns on the TV to look for something fun to watch (like 'the baby' of the family she is).

When our day is done, we have brushed and washed, turned out the lights and gotten into bed....we snuggle....the only way moma's and daughter's know how. We spoon and I am drenched in her aroma and feeling her warm, grown up body right next to mine. My little girl is inside this woman, same eyes, same heart, same love, just.....bigger...everything.

I hate leaving. We hold each other so tight hurts. She has a job, a home and a life, and so do I. We played in suspended time for a couple of days, slightly reverting back, remembering roles that are still very significant, but different now. I tell her she is still my baby and she looks deeply into my eyes and says, "forever." But I see the woman before me and I know that she will never be that baby again.....and I wouldn't want her to. She is carved out into the planes of my heart as if it were made of clay. One day, long ago, it was, but she came along and the warmth of her shining healed and renewed.

I woke up Monday morning and the room was absent of her presence. She had to get up early to leave for work. I moped around and began repacking my belongings. Just about the time when I was ready to feel that deep longing that happens when I'm missing her, I found a sculpture in the shape of a heart made with a bunch of those darling miniature hotel bottles, it was pointing to my side of the bed and I knew.....she still is my baby girl after all.
I had so many more pictures to show you, but Blogger gave me a 3 hour headache and would not print a! BAD BLOGGER! Maybe tomorrow ^..^

Saturday, July 22, 2006

A slice of paradise

I am taking a little 2 & 1/2 day trip to spend some time with my 22 yr. old daughter. She lives a couple of hours away from me. All of my trips begin here.....ordering my favorite Starbucks drink....Blackberry Green Tea Frappichino...Mmmmmmm.

And of course....I'll be driving around with that natural "pissed off" look I get on my face without even trying. But, inside I'm really thinking......I can't wait to smell my daughter, nuzzle my face into her neck (*she'll giggle* and I'll love hearing that sound :) Then I'll hold her really tight and she'll have to peel me off of her and probably say, "Moma, you just saw me 2 weeks ago!" And I'll relent, but also know that in a little while she'll want more cuddles :)

We're going t do the things that we do, eat, cuddle, laugh, maybe some tears, giggle, sleep and then more shopping. I'll miss you all and will be taking pictures of my weekend. I'm going to leave you with a better picture of that expresses more of how I feel inside right now. Love to you all and have a wonderful weekend!

Friday, July 21, 2006

Memere's Poem

Old lace~Champagne
my love~you claimed
we came ~us two
and said~I do
years pass~so long
three kids~you're gone
they came~you left
hard work~came death
two boys~one girl
straight hairs~one curled
re-live~old days
my mind~it stays
all life~no play
my choice~you stay
but no~must be
me one~them three
time goes~by slow
three kids~they grow
want you~but when
my life~is done
Our love~is Come
This is the simple story of my French Maternal Grandmother Memere. My Grandfather died when my mother was only 14 yrs. old. Memere never remarried. She lived on the East Coast and visited us yearly. I loved her, but never felt I really got to "know" her. She seemed uncomplicated and loyal to the memory of her late husband. Yet, in my heart, I did know that she was happy. I knew this because.....she danced. Memere danced all the time. She taught me how to dance and she danced right up until the day she died. I often wondered who she danced with......a memory, I presume.

Thursday, July 20, 2006

"Poetry Thursday is Wild with an E"

"One should either be a work of art or wear a work of art."
Oscar Wilde

Those who know me well are smiling right now and asking, "Where are the 100 other pairs you own?"

I love and can't resist shoes of all kinds. I have other fetishes, but shoes have got to be right up there with books. Believe it or not, this isn't some Barbie Doll characteristic of mine, or an obsessive compulsive disorder, but a retaliation to a comment that was made to a very young, naive, 22 yr old, me. ~ Someone that I trusted and thought loved me, told me that I had ugly toes. My breasts were too small for the size of my butt, I needed to be skinnier for certain clothes and he really liked blonde hair and I had dark brown. I was plagued with these utterances for 10 years and then they were gone. My life moved on, but the echoes still hung around for years. My husband now of 9 years (+ 5 dating yrs= 14) used to catch me with my toes curled under my feet. This was something that I learned to do subconsciously. He would say, "Why do you do that all the time...stop doing that!" I explained the 'ugly toe' syndrome and his response cured me of my foot condition forever...."You have beautiful toes, everything about you is beautiful to me!" Well............... needless to say, the first thing I did was go out and buy the cutest pair of toe showing shoes I could find, gave myself a pedicure and have been showing off my feet ever since. I actually admire my own feet and pay homage to them :)

So, the next time you meet someone, or already know someone with hundreds of shoes.....tell them that their feet look pretty. You never know just who may need to be cured of an old foot disease.

Wednesday, July 19, 2006

Time in a Bottle

Where does your mind go while you are in the shower? I realize that this is a loaded question and I'm not looking for any off color remarks, but I remember when shower times were like vacations for my brain. As a child, I took a shower with the radio blasting out AM top ten hits, belting out the lyrics at the top of my lungs. The shampoo bottle was my microphone and I danced over the drain thinking that I sounded pretty damn good. As a young mother, shower time was an escape from hectic schedules, endless questions from my children and grading homework. I remember the hot water pounding my skin like a relaxing massage and the drain became the portal where all of my heavy cares melted away. But now, the shower is my nemesis and the drain predicts my future like a fortune teller. Lupus causes random hair loss. Not in everyone, but for me, it is never a good sign. My hands pull away multiple clumps of hair and I have to repeatedly kick away the collections that end up clogging the drain. That means that my body is fighting itself again......and loosing the battle. It means that a flare is coming and I am helpless against it's arrival. So now, shower time is a place I fear and I spend those solitary minutes evaluating the condition of my health rather than singing or relaxing. Did you see the beautiful glass bottle in my picture? Well, it's filled with all the hair that fell out this morning. I wanted to show you the covered drain, but I couldn't bare to take the picture. So now, it's just a matter of time for the hair to leave and the pain to come.
I took this picture right after my shower. I refuse to let this disease steal my joy for life!

Tuesday, July 18, 2006

Self Portrait Challenge

You lovelies out there don't even know what a challenge this is for me. Besides the fact that I have a very normal household camera and I am terrible at taking pictures, inside, I hate having my picture taken. My eyes always look too far apart to me and I have a very fair complexion, which always makes me look sick...setting aside the fact that I have Lupus. Mastering the technique of taking pictures of yourself is....interesting to say the least. First of all, I can't get away from the vanity of it all when it comes to ME, not all of you out there! Thank God for that priceless 'DELETE' button, that always feels so good to push and you can usually hear me say, "Eeeewww, Yuck, Sheeesh, or #%&@!" with that feature. But I have learned something about myself...........when I'm not super smiling.........I looked pissed off!

Is this what people see when I'm shopping, walking around, or sitting in the mall to have a gander at other folks? Are they all wondering, what is SHE so mad about? When actually, I'm quite content on the inside and if I'm shopping........I'm in heavenly bliss (especially if I've purchased something on sale:) ~ I also noticed that I get really nervous just as the camera is about to click and I can feel my lips quiver? What's up with that? No one is home but me, I can delete it, and I'm the one taking the picture? Denise tells me it's just the camera. Sweet girl. And although the camera is average, it's not giving me the, "if looks could kill" visage.

I need some advice other than trying black and white (which took me 20 min. to figure out) and my hubs says a new camera is out of the picture (some cheese) for right now. Help!

I'm thinking warm thoughts and feeling lots of love for you all....even if I do look pissed.

Monday, July 17, 2006

Patrisha with a "sh"

I spent my weekend with my adopted grand daughter named Patrisha. Her father was a student of mine when he was in 6th grade. We have kept in touch ever since and 10 years ago he introduced me to his bride and this little munchkin :) I have been Grandma Art ever since and she spends weekends with us every couple of months. You can only guess why she nicknamed me Grandma Art. This weekend we painted, made bracelets, jewelry boxes and refrigerator magnets and composed a homemade book. We watched a "HUGE" movie through a projector and white sheet that covered the wall, while we ate popcorn. Her eyes were as big as the material screen and she smiled the entire time.

I love being a Grandma and it will be awhile before my newly adult children are ready to be parents. So, here is where I want to express my heart. ~ Most of you know that Boho is my lil sister and that I am 10 years her senior. We are very close, bonded together with good times, tragic moments, life's growing pains and oodles of love, my cup runneth over with boho's warm fuzzies. Now I'm going to get serious, putting aside all the deep history we have shared together and reaching into the inner most tender places of my heart.......... I am (crying) inside and out, even as I write this, the subject matter is tender. I have mourned every month that she has not conceived her babe. I keep this from her, for the obvious reasons and I become her piller as she pours out her wounded heart and disappointment. As we talk on the phone, my face gets drenched with tears and I take silent deep breaths to steady my voice. I have never known two people who deserve to be parents more than Den & Carsten. The love they share is magical and rare and they both want to pour this out on some very blessed little one. I am longing to drain my own love into this little life as well. I want to share yet another incredible, life changing experience with my baby sister again......I guess what I'm trying to say is.......I desparately want to be Auntie Art.

Friday, July 14, 2006


This is dark eyed stranger. Yesterday's post needs to be read prior to reading this, to be able to fully appreciate her story. Isn't she a beauty? And an interesting tidbit about her beginnings:

On her first Vet appointment for her puppy shots, I was patiently sitting in the waiting room with Cleo on my lap. She sat there as regal as can be, the perfect puppy that she was. I noticed this "bag lady" wondering around the room and I didn't see any pets with her, like the other animal lovers in the room. She would sit down here and there, whisper something to an owner and move on to the next person. My curiosity deepend, as I watched their faces light up after the bag lady's deliveries. I wriggled in my seat anticipating for her to come and sit by me....and she did! She pet Cleo and said, "What a stubborn streak this one has.....her spirit comes from Egypt, you know." (Wha???????)

Okay....I thought she was saying sweet stuff like, "What a cutie pie...Oh, look at her pretty fur.....this one seems playful." I was not expecting a prophetic message from beyond! I picked the puppy up, turned her around and said, "Wow, her name is Cleopatra, would you like to hold her?" The lady put up her hands, as if she was warding off some ancient curse and said, "No tha-tha-thank you." Then she left............."Wait, lady....should I be concerned?" My mind froze as my eyes darted around the room, looking for some kind of solace from the other pet owners, I got none, just stares.

Cleo wagged her tail and licked my face with uncontrollable kisses. I sat her back down on my lap and looked at her from the corner of my eyes. Considering the drama she caused, just to enter my life, did have me wondering... what kind of canine has an Egytian spirit? I can't tell you that spiritual havoc now reigns in my home, or that strange symbols keep appearing at the bottom of her food bowl, but I can tell you that she is very stubborn and has always been the Queen of this house.

And the "bag lady?"..............I don't even know if she is a real, living, human being. The desk clerks had never seen her before and haven't seen her since. I think she has gone off to other Vet waiting rooms to deliver "pet messages" from the great beyond. Either that, or she's gone off to Hollywood and now stars in a show called, "The Pet Psycic" that airs on the Animal Channel and has become a millionare......what do you think?

In the Heat of the Moment

The day was thick with heat and late in the afternoon on that summer day at Farewell Elementary School. My classroom sat at the farthest backside of the grounds, isolated and far away from campus security and the regular traffic of students and teachers. The only entrance to our room was opened to a ramp that led out of our door. We were all longing for the movement of air, any breeze that might cool our damp skin and sleepy minds. We had no airconditioning and the temperature registered somewhere in the hundreds, a few degrees up or down didn't matter at this point. We were all miserable with our clothes sticking to our skin and beads of sweat covered our necks and faces. It was unusually quiet that day, the heat draining all regular levels of energy. No one heard the feet that traveled slowy and silently up the ramp, all eyes were averted, including my own as I read aloud from the book of the month. The stranger stopped at the top of the ramp peering into the classroom, with big black eyes as dark as coal. I'll never forget the first piercing scream from the child that sat closest to the door. More screams followed as each child turned their heads to look in the doors direction. The urge to run was halted by the loud drop of my book and shouted command for everyone to stop and remain in their seats. My mind raced into action knowing that it was my responsability for the safety of the class. How could this be happening and why wasn't I given a prior sound of warning coming from the old metal ramp? I took a deep breath and raised my hands to quiet the children's questioning eyes. The phone was nowhere near me, in fact, closer to the stranger than myself. I stared into those fathomless eyes, while slowly putting myself in between my class and the stranger standing in the doorway. The energy rose to a feverish pitch as each child strained to stay seated. "God help me" I thought, knowing each one wanted to run, because I felt the strain of my own feet that had to move slowly. I was completely caught off guard that day...and the heat only seared the memory into my brain. I opened my mouth, again quieting the children, before I could address the stranger, who just stood there dirty, haggard and motionless. By instinct, I slowly raised my hands and got down on my knees as an act of surrender. the stranger took one step forward and I heard the sound of 24 children quickly inhale their breath. Pandamonium broke free as the urge to run overrode my command to stay seated. I quickly stood up and hurled myself onto the stranger hoping to divert the attention away from them and onto myself. Predictability and discipline vanished that day in my classroom and what happened next has changed my life forever.....I scooped the stranger high off the ground just in time, before 48 sweaty hands fought to pet the puppy. She had no collar and belonged to no one near, no one that is, until me. I took her home, gave her a bath and named her Cleopatra, a tribute to our current history lesson. That was 13 years ago, and that stranger is now a well loved friend and family member. ( I hope I had you going :)

Thursday, July 13, 2006

On the Inside Safely Looking Out

You can see the troubling times
almost as friends who have come
to help you grow further
than you thought you could;
friends who are showing you the way
to a more courageous heart;
friends who help you to see that
you are more powerful than
you ever thought you were;
friends who help you to see that
the hard times are making you more open
to accepting life as it comes,
and realizing that you have
the inner strength and loving nature
to deal successfully with any difficult moment.
~Donna Levine
~Loving you all with deep gratitude~

Tuesday, July 11, 2006

Revisiting "Das Boot"

Okay girls.....I'm sorry for re-visiting my broken foot, but this is my current existence and I have to address my feelings. ~ ((I don't feel SEXY!)) Are you surprised? Who designed this ugly contraption anyway? I've actually stepped on my own good foot, while using this 'thing' to try and walk. My husband called me from work today with that sultry sound in his voice, "Come on baby, let's go out to dinner tonight........" Sure, I'll wear my perfect little black dress, dragging "Das Boot" along, while walking like the hunchback of Notre Dame! ain't gonna happen. This situation is actually affecting my self-esteem. I have waaaay to many mirrors in my house and they stand as a constant reminder that, although I've tried, I just CAN'T look cute and wear this thing at the same time! I turned down the dinner invitation and now I'm having second thoughts. Maybe... in some warped 'man' kind of way... he l i k e s the new me?

Clumsy?........most definitely


Kinky?........who me?

I'm making a phone call, while ironing my dress.......the rest...try to use your imagination...I have to.......

Monday, July 10, 2006

Tea with Strangers

I know how to sew...mostly square things and straight lines, so I needed a seamstress for a multi-layered party dress. I got the name of one from my husband, who has to wear suits all the time for work. We'll call her Mrs. M. ~I arrived at her humble abode at around 2 p.m. and evidently this was the "tea hour" because when the fitting was finished, she ushered me over to her beautifully set table. This was my first time meeting her and frankly, I felt a little uncomfortable sitting down for tea and chit chat, but she insisted that I stay. Mrs. M was from Iraq and she began describing her childhood that was filled with fear, growing up in a country made of sand and the slight living conditions of her big family. During her thickly accented storytelling, she traveled back and forth from her kitchen, pouring floral tea and laying out condiments for a light snack. On the table she placed a bowl of walnuts, homemade apricot jam and sugar cubes piled in a small crystal dish. She layed down two very tiny spoons, one in front of each of us. I looked at everything displayed before me and waited for her to bring out some confectionery biscuit or crackers to go with the jam. She didn't and just sat down, still recalling her life history. My mind began to panic as it tried to figure out what I should do first, internally asking myself silly questions, "what is the jam for? I supposed to use my fingers?...what do I do with that tiny spoon?" I decided to take a long sip of tea and let Mrs. M guide me with her etiquette. She tucked a sugar cube inside her cheek, I followed. She picked up her spoon and put a dollop of jam on her plate, so did I. She crumbled some walnuts on top of the jam with her bare hands and mixed this simple concoction with the tiny spoon, I copied. Then she scooped up a small portion and daintily put it into her mouth. I mimicked every move, like a child learning a new task. Now I had a sugar cube and jam mixed with walnuts just laying in my mouth. Was I supposed to chew it all together? I was afraid of doing something wrong. I watched Mrs. M continue to hold the sugar cube, which buldged the side of her cheek, while she carefully chewed and swallowed the rest. I tried doing the same and in the process must have made a few faces because she began laughing and called me a silly girl. She continued talking and all the while, I watched the bump in her cheek slowly disappear, as did mine. She told me of her sister's death and the two nephews that she paid $16,000 for, so that they could come to America to be with her. She loved them as her own because she could see her sister in their eyes. Now her children are all grown and gone. She sews for a living out of her home and enjoys having tea with strangers. I smiled, wiped the mist from my eyes and told her that I had to get going. She walked me to the door, thanking me for listening to her stories. I thanked her back and we parted as she closed the door. I sat still in my car, memorizing the exotic treat of meeting Mrs. M. She called me a stranger, but treated me like a treasured friend. I started my car and reluctantly drove away from her house. I should have gone straight home because the visit was unexpectedly long, but instead, drove to the grocery store and bought sugar cubes, walnuts and apricot jam.

Sunday, July 09, 2006

My Red Wall

I was inspired by Susannah, who was inspired by Laini, to share my red wall. I grew up in a "white wall" family and have mainly "white wall" friends. My lil sis Boho,aka Denise, was the first person to introduce me to "pow" decorating with color. Years ago, we decorated her tiny Texas appartment with her, then favorite color, chartreuse green. We painted end tables, a coat rack and window sills, in 105 degree weather and purchased various chartreuse throw pillows and other items to accent the room. Oh, and lets not forget the stenciling we did here and there with a few random shell shapes. (chartreuse shells?) Anyway, we draped sheer muslin around the windows, tied with rope, and Deni then added her remaining "beachy" treasures to complete the ambiance of her small abode. It all looked fabulous and was one of those "forever" bonding moments for the two of us. We were over-heated and exhausted when we were done, but the pride we felt outranked any physical discomforts. I remember leaving her appartment, as an excuse to return, just so we could open the door and both say, "Oooooo!" Evidently, many of her appartment neighbors were green with envy. (sorry for the corn :)
Flying back home on the plane, I could not erase my plastered smile because we had such enormous fun. However, upon returning to my "white wall" home, while unpacking my chartreuse covered clothes, I thought, "My god! What an obnoxious color!" At that moment, tired from the trip, I had forgot about the giggly green fun, the inspiration and the charming impact of her little haven.
So, now years later, after getting insanly bored of living in a "white wall" house, I decided to go to the extreme and paint a wall red. I was tempted with serene green, mellow yellow and barely blue, but "red" was calling my name. So, against my hubs well expressed opinion, I took the plunge and got the red. Not just any ol' red, a black red, deep and unexcusable. My brush stroked over the wall once. I looked around to see if anyone was watching, even though I was the only one home, and out loud said, "This is going to look like a bloody murder!" I took a deep breath and added more paint, against my shrieking brain, and the color began to speak to me. I started falling in love with it and even relished it's second coat knowing it was only going to look even better.
Now I enthusiastically tell everyone, "You have to come over and see my red wall!" as if it's an exotic expensive treasure that I have purchased, and I've decided....that it is.

Saturday, July 08, 2006

The Girl in the Shadow

On days like today, I would like to be the Girl, but instead I am the Shadow behind the Girl. She is posing ever so close and if you look too quickly, you will miss her. The Shadow is not strong, so the Girl must hold her in place. The Girl understands the Shadow and tries very hard not to move, so that the Shadow can enjoy the dance for as long as she can. It is strenuous and the Girl's family holds their breath, silently knowing her monumental task. The Shadow is very grateful for the Girl, her family, and the dance that is over much too soon.

I was born with Lupus and it disrupted my life almost 12 years ago. It is a very mean disease in the fact that I get no warning when it desides to strike it's firey dart. It is like this entity living inside my body with a mind all it's own. It does not belong to me, it just resides here. Today, I hate it, because the arrow has landed to ruin yet another day. I should be dancing on this beautiful, sunny, Saturday afternoon, but instead, I have to be content with just being the Shadow.

Friday, July 07, 2006

Cute Shoe Season

What's wrong with this picture? Yes, these are my feet and both pairs of shoes are my latest purchase. The shoe on the left is from JJill (one of my favorite stores) and the shoe on the right came from the hospital :(

I broke my foot....well, actually, my husband jumped down from a ladder and landed on my foot, which then broke ! Ouch! So, I must wear this "Darth Vader" "Franken Foot" "Robo Leg" shoe for 6 long weeks :#

The thing that I must that when the doctor told me this....I winced inside and said, "But that's the entire 'cute shoe' season!" These words just tumbled, unfiltered, out of my mouth...(a 'Carrie moment' from Sex in the City) and the very Earthy Doctor looked at me with a blank expression, which emulated what she thought my brain was, and just handed me the boot.

To add some misery to this situation...this happened just 4 days before my daughter's college graduation party, hosted by me, and about 65 people were coming to my house! We had about 7 different renovation projects that needed closure and I do most of the work. So, needless to say, the hubs took a few days off from his job.

I'm really not anything like Carrie, except for the fact that I do LOVE shoes. This boot has a huge wedge on the bottom, thus I am usually walking on my tipee toes with the other foot all for the sake of the "cute shoe season."

Seeing all of this in writing has left me feeling like a Carrie. Oh well.........

The one GOOD thing is that I have to sit here and have loads of bloggie visiting time AND....I get to play with beads and wire, my drafting book and really listen to the words of all my favorite music.

All of you have a great weekend....and try to avoid being around husbands on ladders :)

(((group hug)))

Thursday, July 06, 2006

A Journey in Poetry

Paper by American Traditional Designs, Card by Darlene's Signature Designs~(#280-"Fabulously Dressed")

When I read poetry, I do not consider it a layed back activity that I can do with theTV on, or randomly allow my eyes to scan the pages, looking for what I think is the "right poem." I have to take my time and digest the words and phrases. Ponder the shape and go on a journey with the author. I can never read a poem just once. I let each word soak into the layers of my brain and begin to formulate questions that I wish could be answered by it's source. I take a walk through the lines; under, inbetween and inside. The ultimate poetry books I love are the ones that share and explain the writing process of the author's experience that lead to the subject matter in the first place. So poetry, to me, is a journey....a walk in someone elses shoes.

Our lives are filled with ghosts

Skeleton ties

To people we have loved

Their shadows reappear

When memory breathes life into them

Shades of our parents

Impressions of old lovers

We paint anew

On the faces of strangers and friends

That enter our lives

Our ghosts

They visit us again and again

Until we learn

What they have come to teach us

And we master the puzzle that

We are partners in

We wrestle with our ghosts

Until we put them to sleep

Silence them

By listening to them at last

~Parvene Michaels

Wednesday, July 05, 2006

Count down to Start up

I borrowed this borrowed meme for a good warm up

10 Favorites

Favorite season~ spring
Favorite color~ green
Favorite time~ very late at night when everyone is sleeping
Favorite food~ cottage cheese with honey and cinn. with walnuts and bananas on top
Favorite drink~ hot tazo chai tea in the morning with evaporated milk (Boho's recipie :)
Favorite ice cream~ jamocha almond fudge
Favorite place~ my studio
Favorite sport~ hands down...Basketball! (seanson ticket holder)
Favorite actor~ Johnny Depp
Favorite actress~ Audrey Hepburn

9 Currents

Current feeling~ tired from yesterdays celebrating
Current drink~ Tazo la la
Current time~ 8:27 am pacific time
Current show on TV~ CNN- I'm curious about the missile
Current mobile used~ verison- big big family plan
Current windows open~ blogger!
Current underwear~ blk jocky (I don't like you picturing me in my underwear...see...stop that!)
Current clothes~ the biggest T-shirt ever....that's all
Curent thought~ my dog is eating like a piggy- sounds included

8 Firsts

First nickname~ lil' stinker (given to me by my Titia)
First kiss~ 7th grade- a boy named Alex- he stuck his tongue in my mouth and I screamed- I thought it was the grosseset thing ever and I would never kiss again....wrong
First crush~ 5th grade- Mike Dewey- he pushed me out of a treehouse....hey! that was true love
First best friend~ 5 years old- Brageta- we ate raw veggies in her back yard garden...she died a year later and I always thought it was those darn veggies
First vehicle I drove~ my Dad's HUGE truck- scared the crap out of me
First job~ tons of babysitting
First date~ 16 yrs old- the original "Superman" movie
First pet~ those goldfish you won at the fair....they ALWAYS died....tramatic

7 Lasts

Last drink~ my yummy tazo chai that I have to re-heat now
Last kiss~ this morning- hubs off to work
Last meal~ last night's BBQ- yum
Last website visited~ my lil sis Boho- she means everything to me
Last movie watched~ "The Wizard of Oz" - on the classic movie channel- I'm an old soul
Last phone call~ first thing this morning...the doctors office saying there was a missed appt....oops!
Last TV Show wathed~ none...summer is channel surfing time

6 Have you evers

Have you ever broken the law~ yes
Have you ever been drunk~ once....that was all it took
Have you ever kissed someone you didn't know~ never
Have you ever been close to gun fire~ no
Have you ever skinny dipped~ yes, and my parents caught us...luckily it was just a bunch of girlfriends...this time...whew
Have you ever broken anyones heart~ yes...and I received a few in return...kharma

5 Things

5 things you can hear right now~ clock ticking, dog snoring, refrigerator, birdies, wind chimes
5 things on your bed~ pillow, pillow, pillow, sheet, blanket....hey...I sleep with 5 visions of a Sesame Street scene
5 things you ate today~ I haven't eaten yet
5 things you can't live without~ my family, my dog, music, books & creative thinkng
5 things you do when you get bored~ Starbucks and any book store

4 places you have been today


3 things on your desk right now

Just 3? too confusing to pick

2 Choices

Black or White~ white
Hot or Cold~ hot drinks and cold nights

1 place you want to visit

Europe- to see everything that my daughter did when she schooled there (which would include my lil sis and visiting Susannah!)

Tuesday, July 04, 2006

Who am I?

Most of you know me as b/sis, Boho's big sister. We are kindred fristers (sisters+friend) and she has encouraged me to venture out into this bloggie world. I will share my well traveled shoe stories in the hope that the encouragement and wisdom that is forged through new relationships will give us all the strength we need to "tell our stories walking." (Deb Talan)

Take my hand and I'll take yours
walking, talking, young and old
sharing life and all we know
laughing, crying as we grow.
Past and present, future dreams
joys and sorrows, dirty, clean
holding, hugging, kissing too
love in all we say and do.

I look forward to every tomorrow that I spend getting to know you. And from this day forward, you will know me as b/sistersshoes....I coudn't stray to far from my beginnings.

Thank you Den...I love you!