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Archive for the ‘Inspiration’ Category

I love this…. first encountered it on NPR……..  telling your life story in 6 words, no more, no less… Smith magazine has published a book of these.

Ernest Hemingway’s……. “For sale: baby shoes, never worn.”

http://www.smithmag.net/sixwords/ 

Mine – “Seeking: Time, Love, Sleep,Art, Wine” 

What’s your 6 word memoir?

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First, I want to say that I hate Wal-Mart.  Hate them.

Second, I want to say that they have driven out every mom and pop in my town and are only option in this small town, so I am forced to shop them……..or another large chain.

Today, I got ready to settle down and make a collage and decided I needed yet more “stuff”.

I went to Lowe’s in search of a plastic notched trowel, had to settle for a metal one.  I wanted a package of the hard, flat sponges that puff up when you wet them, they did not have them…… I needed yet another type of glue to fix the drawer glide that holds my art supplies in my kitchen……and some formica samples to make a few necklaces….and luggage tags…sorry Lowe’s, I’d buy them in a package if you sold them.

At Wal-Mart I purchased waterbased markers, fine point sharpie markers in a variety of colors…. sand, paint brushes,  crayons for wax resist….. gel pens….tulips paints in matte….. a pad of paper made for acrylics (new to me)……   I bought drop clothes because I am messy…… and elmer’s glue………paper plates…… plastic cups……some misc things to add texture…..  I am so ready to get in my yoga pants and play with paints……………..  and hopefully lose some weight in the process……… I’ve shot my food budget on supplies so the only foods I bought this week are – a head of broccoli, a case of Diet Coke, a dozen eggs and a large plastic jar of pretzel sticks……ought to be an interesting week.

May your muse find you……….. 

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It’s been one of those days……….. my clear coat on my car is blistering for some strange reason, looks horrible.  The body shop can not get it in for  a few weeks.  $$$

This evening I broke a tooth…………. eating cheese!  I take my stress out by clenching and grinding my teeth and the last few weeks have been very stressful. I have a night guard but I take that out in my sleep……….probably because it interfers with my ability to clench and/or grind. $$$

My dentist and his staff are on a week long retreat.   

Good news…….. had a wonderful painting donated for my upcoming gala by a woman with Parkinson’s disease. It reminds me of Monet’s waterlillies, I think I like this one even better, perhaps because I know and admire her.  She is in her 70’s and still paints or draws daily.  For her to set up her canvas and easel is a major chore yet one she refuses to let others help her do……..everything has to be just so.  When I went to pick it up she dropped the frame…….chipped a huge section off a very expensive frame.  I took it to our local and fabulous frame gallery, he knows her, and he was only too happy to put it in a new  very expensive frame at his expense.  I will use it for a live auction item. She will be there and she will be thrilled.  In her prime she did a lot of art shows, now that her every movement is challenged, she just paints for her own therapy.  

One of my highlights today happened at Wal-Mart. They hire people who have disabilities.  At our local store they have a young lady who is a greeter.  She has cerebral palsy.  She can’t speak but tries and she tries hard.  She loves to check your receipt against the merchandise in your cart as you leave, She loves and needs the interaction with people,when you talk to her she beams. I always make a point of speaking to her and having her check my cart.

Today, when I walked in she was waving her arms and smiling, so excited.  I walked up to her and asked her why she was so happy.  Her body, true to form, was jerking all over the place but she managed to type  a code in a lap top type computer on her stand and it spoke to me!!!!  She was thrilled to death to be able to communicate with me and she joked with me too……..and she laughed. I laughed.  I hugged her and she typed in, “I love to be hugged”.  It got me………….kicked me in the gut……….I can only imagine she’s been waiting a lifetime to tell someone that.

I told her I did too as I blinked  back tears.

As I was leaving the store I saw a woman about my age standing outside the entrance, crying.  I asked her if she was Ok…….she nodded yes, as tears streamed down her face.  She said she is the mother of that young lady and was so touched by her excitement about her new “voice”…….  and the fact that a stranger would take the time to talk to her as if she were  a normal girl.  I hugged her mother and told her that I never thought of her daughter as a normal girl, she is nothing less of exceptional……….. and a great inspiration to me!

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Life goes on

Life goes on ….

Two Septembers ago, I heard the fear in her voice.  We sat in her backyard drinking coffee with the chiminea aglow, her face mostly in shadows except for the tears trickling down her cheeks.

Her fear was not for herself, not for the days ahead when the beast would have its way with her, taking a breast was not enough, it would soon claim all of her.

She worried how he would get along without her, how he would handle the silence, shop for groceries, remember to keep doctor appointments etc. Her voice lowered to a whisper. She told me she did something very right all those years ago, she married a wonderful man. When she was diagnosed, he was there, telling her it was their battle.  When she was sick, he cared for her without her asking. When she cried, he held her and comforted her… and not once did she have to ask, he was always there for her.

She looked at me with eyes that pleaded for answers.

“When I am gone, who will care for him?  What if this happens to him, who will be there for him?”  She knew how essential his support had been in the early days, it was even more so now.

I wrapped a blanket around her and refilled her coffee as she looked up at the stars. A symphony of crickets filled the damp night air.

She turned to look at me, pointing to the heavens.  “Do you see that really bright star over those old oak trees?”

I nodded, holding back tears, selfishly wondering what I was going to do without her.

She continued, “Right there, right there is where I want him to look for me………..we’ve sat out here for 30 years and there’s always a bright star right over those trees.  Me and the Oaks, that’s where I’ll be.”

 

Her voice trailed off……perhaps she was wondering how far away she’d be.  “He needs to remarry, you know. He’s a good man, some woman will be happy with him……..perhaps Carla L would be a good fit for him?  You know, I can see them together; they’d probably live in her home.  Or maybe you should make sure he finds someone who loves to dance; I never liked it but he always loved dancing. You will need to keep your eye on him, to make sure he goes on.”

Three weeks later she slipped into a coma. He called me to sit with him.  When I arrived he was painting her toe nails, her pillow had recently been fluffed. He had her favorite candles burning and a photo of them on the nightstand.  He held her hand so tenderly and told me that even then, with her bald head and emaciated body, he looked at her and saw a gorgeous woman who loved him with all she had every day and every night. 

They used to glance at each other across a room and everyone recognized the look.  He looked at her the same way then.

She slipped quietly away the next day. 

Last night I attended his wedding – alone.  He looked at his new bride and I once again recognized the look of love. At the reception she told me his wife wrote a letter to the woman he would marry after she was gone.  She said it was the most touching, thoughtful letter, stained with her tears…… welcoming her into his life, the life she left behind.

She was quite a woman, that friend of mine.

I heard someone ask them if they’d be living in her house.  She said, “No, we will live in his house, it has the most magnificent view of the night sky, right over the old oaks.”

I knew what that meant, more importantly, I knew what that meant to him.

How sweet, how wonderful……..two people who truly love and understand each other.

We should all be so blessed………….he found it twice……….. I’m still searching for once…..perhaps someday.

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In my past I was the mere shadow of a weak woman.

Unworthy of being loved, I married a man whose depth was no more than surface deep, his own sorrows buried in alcohol. Yes, saddenly this was what I unconsciously chose for myself…someone that I could love more and who did not know the meaning of the word, nor did he have a desire to be loved. Sigh.

In the mirror I am a no longer a victim but a survivor, a stunning beauty with clear pale green eyes, laugh lines and a little of nature’s sparkle in my hair. Even if I am the only one that sees that in me, that is all that matters.

In my dreams the thin woman that lives inside my body escapes, climbs Mount Rushmore, dances on the head of Teddy Roosevelt, jumps over to George Washington's head and slides down his nose landing in a lush, decadent, creamy, warm pool of Godiva chocolate. She takes a deep breath, then notices she has left her mark on this earth... her lime green, size 3, thong bikini dangling on the mountain for all to see.

In my stories I am a pioneer woman who followed her man across this country raising healthy children that had strong family values and learned to deal with life’s challenges as they came.In my fears I am a on a bridge that is crumbling into a rushing river below it and I can not swim. I am terrified, not for the fear of drowning but because I am unable to save my children who are with me in the swollen river. My heart dies a thousand deaths instantly, it's much too much for me to bare.

In my car I am Barbara Streisand’s idol, I speak perfect conversational French and I weigh what my driver’s license says I do.

In my wishes I am the person that discovers the cure for all cancers so we don’t have to say good-bye to loved ones much too soon.

In my childhood I was a the princess that never smiled, a fat child that realized at an early age that the world would judge me by my weight and not my heart. I was a thin teenager but never knew it.

In these clothes I am a Diva with traces of dye ink and pigments from memorable nights of splendor spent crafting treasures for my loved ones, way into the wee hours of hot summer nights while the crickets sang to me and only me, as the thunder rumbled in the distance.

In the future I'll be old but never old in spirit, my scrapbooks will up to date, my crafts organized and my house clean. I will be one of those people who sit on their porch and watch the world go by, those people that I’ve loathed and envied all these years while secretly wondering what the inside of
their house looked like.

In my family I am an OVER-PROTECTIVE MOTHER and darn proud of it and thankful for being blessed with two beautiful sons that tolerated me all these years! Not for all the riches of the world would I trade the years I've had with them, or the hopes I have for their future. They are my greatest work and the part of my heart I leave behind when my days are done. They are love. 

In my old age I am healthy with great hair that still blows in the wind. I wake up with my lover of many years, his hair now gray, wrinkles grace his face, his eyes still the biggest source of comfort to me. I speak to him without a word, he knows he is my heart's desire. We go for coffee early in the morning before the birds are up and sometimes play Scrabble in front of the fire while sharing a bottle of our favorite wine. His hand is the one I want to hold as one of us are dying, knowing the other's departure from this world won't be far behind.In my heart I know I am blessed......I have my vision and hearing, all my senses, as well as wishes and dreams more precious than gold and the hope that they someday may come true.

Just for the record, I fit in one airplane seat, but that may not always be the case.... :)... in which case there would  simply just be more of me to love!Ahhhh, my pen has ceased to write, my fingers too tired to type, my head is spinning, I feel a little wild, I may just have to howl at the moon!

 

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To the man I’ve yet to meet….

There are some things I want to know

about you, dear

not all at once, unless of course,

your comfort takes you there

I am ok with letting these things

reveal themselves one by one

like fallen leaves that arrive with the wind

Or perhaps they are best discovered 

peeled away one by one,

like the thin layers of an onion

sometimes they make us cry

and sometimes we just hold our breath and go with it.

Or would you prefer to reveal them

by the light of the moon

as we sat wrapped in blankets on the beach

the waves lapping at our feet

as we shared a glass of wine?

Some things are best revealed in the safe confines 

of a room warmed by a raging fire

I have no agenda, no timeline,dear

just questions, from my heart to yours

it’s all part of the process

of becoming

fully present and invested

in “us”

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