Completelycollaged

The Power of the Pontchartrain

2011-09-05T22:39:00.000-05:00

Shes a city with dark secrets.
The old tired Queen of the South smelling like a drunk drenched in cheap perfume.
The charm of her french colonials and gas lit streets make you forget her tainted past.
She was built with the blood of prisoners and slaves
and their cries are heard in dark places after midnight.

The murky Pontchartrain reflects her vibrant beauty and her Creole charm makes you ignore what lies beneath.
The Old Queen of the South is a swamp and she swallows all her secrets.

I loved my trip to New Orleans.
I was inspired by the delightful sounds + sights + history.
Yet the dark side kept creeping in.
I'll go back.

The image above was inspired by a well known NOLA artist J Renee.
Check her out jreneeart.com

Happy 26th Jonn

2011-06-09T14:51:00.004-05:00

Sitting together on a quiet Hawaiian afternoon Jonn began talking under his breath.Of course that's not unusual for a child of five but I turned and asked " Are you talking to me?'
" No Im practicing talking to God so that when I ask Him into my heart He can hear me"
Smiling I explained that He always hears and always knows where you are.

So on that quiet afternoon Jonn bowed his head making the decision to always be heard by Him.
"Mom it felt like a tickle when Jesus came into my heart."

Today -his 26th birthday- I am so thankful that I taught this child the Life giving message of Gods good news.

And today as a family we miss celebrating his earthly years, but my Mother's heart finds deep pleasure that his life celebration continues as he stands in the company of the One who always hears.

SUMMER SNOW

2011-05-21T12:44:00.005-05:00

The Wind has swept away the last of Winter's frosty touch.
No more icy flakes swirling across the landscape.
Warmth has returned and the Cottonwoods are celebrating.
They twist and they turn and they shake themselves
Showering us in gentle Summer snow.

THE UNLOVED BRIDE

2011-05-10T00:20:00.005-05:00

She hardly knew me but I dont think she knew many people.
She thought of me as a friend even though I cant remember her name.
She confided in me as I held back my judgement.

He didnt want to marry her but there was a baby coming.
It was 1974 and you did the" right" thing .

So there we stood at an alter in a strange church.
The thrift store wedding gown hung loosely on her thin frame. The white of her dress matched the white of her face .
She held a single red rose- the only flower in the empty church.

She looked to the groom standing beside her for a sign of love or reassurance but he stared straight ahead obviously bored and annoyed.
The Pastor said words.
The groom didnt kiss his bride but hurriedly walked off with her trailing behind.

The aloneness of that hour still haunts me as I think of the girl I only remember as the UNLOVED BRIDE.

The Line is Silent

2011-04-24T23:44:00.008-05:00

The phone no longer rings from the woman I called sister.
There are no more laughs or sighs or unsolicited advice.
The stories of our childhood are now only mine and the laughter of our youth never shared again.
Our Life moments go unspoken because the line is silent on the other end.

Hard Core and Grimm

2010-08-15T23:44:00.000-05:00

This summer I read a few good books.

I came from a family of book lovers so books were a most cherished gift throughout childhood. Im always saddened when people say they dont read for pleasure- to me its like having never seen the ocean or a full moon.

  On my 8th birthday my Great Aunt Edithe presented me with a two volume set of GRIMMS fairy tales.
No not the sanitized Disney version but the real blood + guts, never enter the woods alone version!

  Do you know the real ending to Cinderella and what happened to her step-family? Lets say mutilation played a part in that ending. And what young mind doesnt need a story where the father chops off the hands of his daughter so the Devil will give him back his soul in THE GIRL WITHOUT HANDS. Of course Hansel + Gretel never left home again!

  In spite of the gruesomeness these stories always had a moral. Good was rewarded and evil punished. They taught the virtue of patient suffering and endurance when wronged. The pitiful protagonist was rewarded with restoration and abundance and the bad guy got what he deserved.

  Since this was some of my foundational reading in the 3rd grade WINNIE THE POOH didnt make the list. I did enjoy its charm when I read it to my own children years later but my reading list went straight to more mature and dramatic adventures of classical literature for kids and young adults. Tragedies and dilemmas, victories and defeats, life and death for characters across the globe + the centuries, painting my imagination and giving me dreams beyond the walls of my small bedroom.

As bookstores close around the country and kids are shocked to learn that the Lord of the Rings was a book before it was a movie I wonder who will carry the tried and true literature home to a special reading nook for an afternoon of pleasure.

What your favorite or the strangest book youve ever read?

My Nest is on the Edge or the Summer of Extreme living

2010-07-11T13:27:00.000-05:00

This is my season of extreme living.

No Im not taking up cliff diving or anything that exciting.

Im just traveling back and forth between dwelling places every few weeks.

My Warrior is training for a SOCIAL experiment that will eventually take him back to Afghanistan (more on that later). His man cave is located in Kansas City, Mo so I'll be making the 5 1/2 hour journey-(4 if I drive) every few weeks.

Its extreme living not because KC is wild and uninhabitable. Quite the contrary! Its a very fun place.

But its extreme in my level of activities. When Im home in OKC I have to act like a responsible adult- pay bills, weed garden, fix minor problems. Of course,the best part is all my grandmonkeys, kids + friends to catch up with. Then back to Jazz City for laying by the pool, shopping , sight-seeing and general vacation fun. I have one 21 year old friend to run around with. Her husband is in the same training as Warrior so that helps with the loneliness of missing family. Mike is always up for fun when he gets home so its dinner, movie etc.

Don't misunderstand I'm not complaining!!! Just commenting that my Gypsy nature is being tested as I live a half-n-half life fully. Its not often that you get a stress free summer or re-experience the first year of marriage before kids, endless laundry,constant meal planning and the activities of busy family life. Its nice to have an "empty" nest with a little more money, a little more understanding of what is important in caring for one another + the knowing that all moments are important and should be lived with joy.

The Barbie Wars

2010-05-18T23:39:00.000-05:00

My sister Karen loved to play with Barbies.
She adored everything about them and the make believe world she put them in.

I, on the other hand, enjoyed organizing Barbie and her disorderly clothes and fickle love life with Ken.
Each week my sister would spend 20 minutes begging me to play with her. I would finally give in and the "setting up" would begin.

First- I got the Barbie of my choice. I am the oldest!

Then the division of clothing. Piles of gowns, mini-skirts, boots, purses etc had to be fairly shared and traded back and forth. Once we were both satisfied the lesser dolls became the maids or little sisters.

Now on to arranging their cases into homes fit for the Queens that they were. The maids scurried to make the kleenex covered bed and help them dress for their big night out on the town with who else but KEN. Skipper always answered the door when he pulled up in the red convertible even though we still hadnt decided who would get the "date" with him.

Of course this was settled in true girl fashion when it comes to men- Cat Fight.
Yes our Barbies would battle toe to toe or really head to head. The winner of date night with Ken was the one who survived with her head still on her body!

By now it had been close to an hour of "setting up" and I would let out a heavy sigh, stand up saying "Im bored" leaving my little sister in disappointed tears and the Barbie mess to clean up.

My sister loved Barbies and this scenario was repeated dozens of times in our childhood.
She never understood that the only part I enjoyed was getting Barbie organized and dressed, her house decorated and a date for the night-
Then she was on her own!

The Land of Enchantment

2010-05-17T23:41:00.002-05:00

Its so easy to lose the wonder of life as we grow older.

Enchanted moments don't come as often as in childhood or youth.

So when they come I try to embrace them.

My trip last week was one of them.

I packed up backpack, camera backpack and smallish suitcase for a Photography Workshop hosted by a talented woman named Jessica Wesolek of cre8it.com.

I blew into Santa Fe on a very small plane holding 50 passengers who were holding on tightly as we landed! I was then handed the keys to a bright GOLD ford focus and began the trip to the Inn Of the Governors in the downtown historic district of the city. Once checked in I could walk to galleries,shops and food in less than a minute so

after my afternoon tea and sherry in the lobby I began my exploration until well after dark.

Friday- Sunday led me to my class outside the city and the journey into the beautiful areas Jessica chose for our adventure. We spent 8-10 hours each day together as a 4 student class taking photos,editing and listening to critique.

It was hard to leave on Monday but of course Mike was coming home the next day as well as my daughter graduating from Nursing School. Off I flew again getting home in time to drag my bags inside while the tornado sirens wailed.

What was your worst wedding gift?

2010-04-23T13:40:00.001-05:00

  Everyone gets at least one weird wedding gift. We may have gotten a few more than that but as a young couple in 1974 we were grateful for anything.
  The congregation of Foothill Baptist in Sylmar Calif was a generous group. With 3 wedding showers and gifts given at the wedding, our home was filled with many lovely and practical things. We had a new sofa, dining table, bed and dishes. We did return 11 of the 12 popcorn poppers we received but kept the case of popcorn.
  But my Mothers gift stood out above them all. In fact, this 1954 Westinghouse refrigerator stood sturdily humming in the garage for 20 years filled with the overflow from the kitchen fridge. Like many things built in days gone by it was a work horse. Nothing had ever broken or fallen off including the paint. There it stood in all its glory- Flamingo Pink- as the trades called it.
  Now what was a modern bride to do when the fashion colors of the day were stomach churning
   Burnt Orange, Avocado green and Harvest yellow. This pink wasn't even on the color wheel ( dont think those colors were either).
  So I drug the old thing into the driveway for a make-over. Wow- 4 cans of white spray paint later it was almost like having a new fridge- except that once we moved it to our kitchen, it moaned instead of hummed, smelled like a dead fish, and had a drip pan for excess condensation. I didn't know it had to be emptied and cleaned weekly leading to stagnant water and mold.

I dont remember what happened to PINKY when Mike joined the Air Force and we moved to South Dakota, but I sure wouldn't mind having that "retro" fridge humming in my garage. The restored ones start at about $4000.00.

Do you fear Heliconia Latispatha ?

2010-04-21T00:33:00.000-05:00

I wasn't much of a TV watcher growing up.

In the 1960's when most of my friends watched Felix the Cat, The Flintstones or Bugs Bunny I was happily playing some make believe game or reading a book.

But that all came to a halt for 2 hours on Saturday afternoon when I raced to the den, closed the curtains, shut the door and grabbed a pillow as I scrunched into the sofa to be terrified by CHILLER THEATER. As the name implies it sent chills up my 6 year old spine as more and more of the pillow covered my face.

Needless to say while most children were afraid of the dark or the Wicked Witch of the West I lived in terror of the Crawling Hand under my bed, the Blob oozing up from the plumbing or the 30 foot eyeball staring at me outside the window.

And thats when I developed my fear of Heliconia Latispatha.

The producer of the 1956 INVASION OF THE BODY SNATCHERS had the wrong alien plant.

It was this one!

This creepy, gnarly, flamed colored flowering plant flanked the walkway to my front door. I always looked over my shoulder while passing. I felt its bird like head watching, waiting for me to let my guard down and blow spores into my face - making me forget I was human.

Do Rabbits lay Eggs?

2010-03-29T23:13:00.000-05:00

Not coming from a religious family Easter had little spiritual significance. Our celebration centered around the basket + the Dress.
I of course believed in the Easter Bunny ( I didn't find out till High School biology that rabbits don't lay eggs).
But I liked the Easter Bunny. He was much easier to please than Santa because I didn't have to worry if I'd been naughty or nice.
He just hopped in with a basket overflowing with candy and weird synthetic grass. He left the Dress hanging properly with shoes + purse and was gone.

So each year through the mid 1960's the Dress was the main event.
It was always pink or some Spring pastel, loaded down with flowery trim, rough scratchy petticoat or other lavish decoration.
To complete the ensemble - patent leather shoes (usually white), matching purse,white gloves + some kind of hat or bow.

My sister and I would spend Easter morning giggling, twirling and admiring one another.

But the Big Reveal usually became the Big Disappointment.
Easter dresses are stiff and itchy.
The shoes are new and tight.
The gloves made my hands sweat and I could never think of anything to put in my purse!

That was a long time ago and Im so glad Ive come to understand that I dont have to be naughty or nice, have the perfect dress or a purse full of interesting objects to celebrate God's gracious love for me and all the world. His sacrifice on the Cross clothes me forever in garments that dont decay, fills my emptiness and never disappoints. This is the Joy and Promise of Easter.

A Lasting Impression

2010-03-20T00:01:00.001-05:00

I knew this woman.

She began as a copy of a magazine image but soon she became frighteningly familiar.
I recognized her features and detached gaze.
I remembered her high style and clicking stilettos.
Once again I felt her penetrating eyes as my knees started to buckle under her stare.

She was a stealthy woman- always coming up from behind.
Never saying a word but leaving a lasting impression as her titanium grip cut off the blood from my bare arm, red polished nails squeezing until I submitted.

She had no tolerance for for gaiety, talkativeness or childish views on life.

Her name was Mrs. Walker.
She was fierce.
She was my 2nd grade teacher- 1963.

Circles from the Crooked Eye gallery

2010-03-14T13:26:00.000-05:00

12x14 YES canvas
Watercolor + twinkling h2os
Learned that " measure twice- draw once" is a proverb for a reason.
Had fun with my first watercolor abstract

The Homeliest Baby

2010-03-10T09:24:00.000-06:00

I feel like Napoleon Dynamite.
I've been working on my skills.
I have the usual domestic goddess skills- cooking, cleaning + caregiving but I thought Id dust off some very old + unused skills like Creative Writing ( remember that High school class).
To begin this skill you must write. To write you need a writing prompt aka " the word that gives you an idea."Then start writing all the things that pop into your head!
Todays word was HOMELIEST. Not just plain old homely but the IST form which means the highest degree of homely.

I had an instant vision but I didnt think it would be nice to write about it, so instead I went through my list of friends and family to see if any of them qualified. Some are strange looking but none homely.

I guess I have a large tolerance for non- beauty since I tend to gravitate to genetically altered canines like dachshunds and bug-eyed Boston terriers. Maybe that makes me more generous in my judgement of homeliest. And it brought me back to my first idea- the Homeliest thing I ever saw was a baby.

Yes I hear you saying " oh thats mean- every baby is beautiful to God + its mother."
Thats true and Im sure his mother didnt even notice. But I did!

It was 1975 and I was no longer a Valley Girl from Calif. but a new military wife living in San Antonio Texas.We lived in an apt building not far from the base with a dozen or so other lonely young brides thrown together for a few months while our Airmen were finishing up Tech school. The days were long. No car, no money and lots of time. The perfect ingredient for friendships and learning how different people are in our vast country.

And that is where I met him- the homeliest baby.
His mother was a Southern girl who waltzed around our building in her terry-cloth robe +fuzzy slippers, pregnant belly hanging out along with the cigarette dangling from her mouth. She cussed up a storm, ate whatever she had a hanker-in for and was delighted when we gave her a baby shower.

Then one day she disappeared. Rumor had it she'd gone into labor. Without cars and the only pay phone down on the corner the brides + I would have to wait till she came home.
And 3 days later she arrived. She rushed up the stairs without allowing us one peek at the bundle she was carrying but shouting back the promise " I'll be right back!"
And when she returned she stood like Princess Di waving down at the crowd beneath her balcony and to our horror did a Michael Jackson. She unwrapped little 4 day old Danny, dangled his 6 lb 4oz body over the railing for us all to see.
I dont know if he really was the homeliest baby ever because I had never seen a newborn in all my 19 years but the shock of a spindly limbed, wrinkled, hair covered screaming baby left a life long impression.
Never saw little Danny again but he and homeliest go hand in hand. Im sure he turned out just fine but has a lifelong fear of heights.

Did you ever misunderstand your parents English?

2010-03-03T21:06:00.002-06:00

I think one of the funniest things about childhood is all the adult sayings that kids misunderstand.

Being raised by my Depression Era grandparents and hearing sayings that ranged from the 1920s-1940s-
I grew up very confused.

When we'd come home from a day on the town my Gramps would open the door and say "Nobody's home but us chickens"
What? We dont have chickens- we live in downtown Los Angeles!

After dinner- " Save the bones for Henry Jones"
Did I have an Uncle Henry I didn't know about and does he have a bone collection?

My morning wake up shout was " Up and Adam"
It made me wonder why Eve's husband had to get up as early as I did.
Later I found out it was Up and At Them.

I did finally find out "What in the Sam Hill " means.

So if you see a tomato with lovely gams
Dont get the screaming meemies.
Just mind your potatoes and pipe down because it might be ethel in disquise
So tell it to sweeny cause ish kabibble!

Thats my great -great Uncle Eddie 1927

The Lunch Box

2010-03-02T20:16:00.001-06:00

Does anyone have fond memories of their school lunch boxes?

Back in the 1960s lunch boxes were a status symbol for most school children. It wasn't about designer clothes or what stuff you had but how you carried your lunch.
Lunch box design was simple and usually had a matching thermos. They had designs of the popular cartoons or TV shows like Rocky+ Bulwinkle, Yogi Bear and Gunsmoke.

I was usually in trouble most of my school life. My motto was "what would happen if..." and that was the springboard for some wonderful idea I had. Most of the time my teachers would just sigh and make me go into the closet for punishment ( or maybe give them a break). The closets back then were more storage room / coat closets and to be sent there was the highlight of my day! I had coat pockets to dig through,cupboards filled with art supplies,fresh paper, unsharpened pencils by the case and the ultimate pleasure- Checking out my classmates school lunches.

This was like a day at the art museum and on top of that I got to see which kids got the good stuff for lunch like chips or cookies.

For most of my school years I was relegated to second class lunch box carrier because my Depression era Grandparents couldn't imagine why a brown paper sack, a sandwich wrapped in wax paper and a handful of carrots weren't sufficient. Forget the breakable thermos because there was a perfectly good water fountain in the hall.

So Christmas of 1965 was a real celebration when I finally got the longed for BARBIE+MIDGE vinyl lunch box ( no thermos). I could strut my baloney sandwich and carrots in style.

Beware the Eyes of March

2010-02-28T21:37:00.000-06:00

Did anyone ever think when they were a kid that the Soothsayers warning to Caesar "beware the Ides of March" was really the " eyes of March". That's what I wondered for years -why March had eyes and what would he be looking for.Of course by high school and a semester of Shakespeare I got it, but every time March rolls around I wonder whose looking at who.

Triple D

2010-02-26T20:28:00.000-06:00

I namedher Triple D -Deceptively Difficult Diva- because the model looked like an easy thing to copy but she had alot of angles. I plan on painting her both in acrylic and another in pan pastels. Unless I get bored of course!

THE WINGS OF THE MORNING

2010-02-25T20:05:00.000-06:00

I've finished my Kenya watercolor. It's been 6 months since I was there but I still remember the dramatic beauty of the sunrise over the Tsavo Game Preserve. I've tried to capture a small glimpse.
I couldn't help but think on David's words -

"If I ride the wings of the morning, if I dwell by the farthest oceans, even then Your hand will guide me and Your strength will support me ." Ps.139

Robert the Cat

2010-02-24T22:48:00.000-06:00

This is Robert who is supposed to look like my friend Miss Barb's kitty(whose not named Robert) but Ive decided cats are hard to draw (except from the back ) and he looks a bit scatty so back to the drawing board.

Sylvia- lover of the Woodlands

2010-02-24T00:01:00.000-06:00

When I sketch or draw something I must always give it a name or a title. I get attached to the made up people or things that I create so that by the time Im finished there is always a story for them.

Sylvia made me think Khalil Gibran-
" forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the wind longs to play with your hair."

Hangers

2010-02-22T11:58:00.000-06:00

Well this week was the hardest concept for me in my Illustration class. It was the word HANGER as in clothes. I was getting quite hung up until I remembered there was a HANGER in Area 51.

Skinny Girls just wanna have fun

2010-02-20T23:39:00.000-06:00

The Giver

2010-02-20T20:20:00.001-06:00

In my class we had to illustrate a book we had just finished. I read a wonderful book that took me a long time to get around to reading but sure wish Id done it earlier. THE GIVER is a story about a world that had been made completely safe and sterile for humans to live in. In a world without fear, pain or any extremes life became something very unexpected. Wont give it away.

2010-02-20T01:00:00.001-06:00

Continuing the Illustration theme we had to pick views into two rooms of our house.
One was our public life as shown by some of my "grandmonkeys" waiting for me to arrive.

The other was our private life.

Im no Michelangelo...

2010-02-19T23:16:00.001-06:00

Im in the middle of an Illustration class online. We are given a concept once a week to draw whatever comes into our warped little brains. This week it was a puzzle piece.

Fashion Tip

2010-02-18T20:53:00.001-06:00

Somedays we all need new ideas of how to look better and refreshed.
My 4 year old grandson had a new beauty tip -
"Hey Oma if you smear catsup all over your lips they will stay red all day"
Much cheaper than Revlon!

My Mother is Shadow

2009-10-20T20:19:00.000-05:00

I've had these words in my journal for the last seven months but it wasn't until my friend Glynis decided to do the MEMORY WALK here in OKC Sat. 10/25 that I put them together in a coherent form. If you have someone with Alzheimer's and want to support her efforts the link is listed on my site. She is the Rambling Mind.

My Mother is a shadow.
She is still living but only makes infrequent visits to reality.
As I've helped to clean through her things in order to make daily living more simple, I realized there isn't much left behind.
She has no journals or diaries, no little notes to self or even doodles on the side of an envelope.
Her handwritten items are signed insurance papers or a long ago greeting card.
How strange that there will be no hand-made treasures left behind, no loved mementos or Velveteen Rabbits.
Just a stack of paperbacks- not even a permanent library of best loved books.
Who was she?
Even the backs of her photographs are lacking dates and places.
Her revealed memories become my only legacy and remembrance.
And I didn't know her at all.
I didn't know her shadow- it is elusive and forever lost to me.
She is a puzzle with most pieces missing.
I have chased her all my life, to win her love and approval, only to realize I've chased a vapor- a wisp of a life.
Now it is too late to fill the dark spots with the light of understanding.
She cannot remember those things she may have wanted to say to me.
The time for healing words and explanations is long past.
My Mother is a shadow.

Simple things- Larry the Chicken

2009-10-08T11:12:00.001-05:00

Life is always full of firsts.

Youth tends to think of everything in life that way-but aging is a wonderful time of repurposing memories and re-enjoying the simple "firsts" of life. Here is Larry- my first painting of a chicken.

Simple Things - My Artist Prayer

2009-10-07T16:00:00.001-05:00

As part of my study group the Creative Call we were asked to write out our Artist Prayer to call forth His inspiration and power as we create.

I put it on my canvas entitled "My Soul's Keep".

You spoke and it was created- beauty brought forth from Your thoughts
The paintbrush across Time.

I am formed in Your Image
Designed to create.
So You who began a good work within me
Bring my Creative Call to Your finish.

She knew enough to give herself Flowers

2009-09-24T22:28:00.002-05:00

Onward with the Self-Portrait project.

Its been a long week filled with physical discomfort and lack of sleep. It got me to thinking about how hard life can be at times. I just yearned for a little comfort. I can get so busy "doing" life rather than being in the moment. So I thought of all the simple things and there is nothing as pleasurable as flowers.

Where Tears and Watercolors flow

2009-09-18T00:39:00.001-05:00

Continuing with the Self- Portrait Project.

My Veil-A Mourning Song

2009-09-11T00:21:00.005-05:00

This is week 3 of Self- Portraits.

I drew it last week but didn't choose to post till now.

A veil is a simple covering used in different parts of the world and by different religions but here it only means a place of hiding.

This week I am putting on the Veil.

I am only using my eyes- because I have to.

I have no breath to draw in the pain.

I have no mouth to speak words of shallow comfort to the dying.

I have no face to expose or expressions left to give the world.

I will hide behind this veil hoping death will go away.

I cannot bear to have another friend, another family lose this battle.

So beneath this dark covering I hope death's sting will not reach me,

But I know this shroud cannot not keep all that "will be" away.

Its pain will find me and I will feel grief rushing through my veins, churring my stomach, tearing at my heart,

For I know the road they will walk- the valley they must descend.

I know He will be with them.

And they will have peace beyond understanding.

They will have joy that can only be felt in utter despair.

They will trust Him because He will be too real for them not to.

And I will feel all this too and know that He will take their mourning clothes and exchange them for garments of praise.

They will have garlands and not ashes upon their heads.

And they will be ushered into a world that only a few really understand.

In Loving memory of LBF.

Remembering 9/11 Mail Art project

2009-09-08T23:02:00.003-05:00

For the 3rd year in a row Im sending my envelope art into the 9/11 project.

This design was done with paper scraps inside a vellum envelope.

This is my remembrance for this very sad day.

Simple Things- I am Chickasaw

2009-09-03T13:41:00.003-05:00

In keeping with our weekly journal goal Im posting Week 2 of Portraits.

Im not trying for a technically perfect drawing ( couldn't do it anyway even if I wanted to).

I picked parts of me and went from there.

Its strange how we never really look at ourselves till we are trying to draw. I glance at myself daily in the mirror but don't really "see". In fact I forgot how old Im getting!

I took pictures of myself (kinda weird) so I could look at my face more closely.

I was surprised at how Native American my features were.

Im just beginning to explore my Chickasaw heritage and didn't intend for my drawing to go that way but such is the joy and nature of Art.

Simple Things- The Joy of Creating

2009-08-31T21:43:00.003-05:00

Over the last year I've been teaching myself to draw or maybe just getting my brain to see differently and my hand to cooperate. I have such a hugh learning curve but its been exciting and most of the time people don't ask me " what is it" so I guess Im making progress.

This month my friend Sherry and I are working on "sketching ourselves" and using this idea for journal pages. I been trying to draw faces for a few months but they tend to look the same so at least when I draw myself I know the model pretty well. We are trying to do a page a week and will post on Fridays.

This is my cover page with my photo and a few images that have meaning to me.

" Let the beauty of the Lord our God be upon us and establish the work of our hands" Ps.90

Chekhov said " Don't tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass"

Simple Things- Aging

2009-08-23T09:37:00.006-05:00

I started this year with the idea that I would simplify my external and internal world. I think Im doing better than I ever have in controlling chaos and clutter. The busy last few months of caring for my Mother, Carolyns wedding, and Mikes too short of a visit followed by a 3 week mission trip to Kenya made me wonder if Im still making progress. Yet in all these events I found a beautiful simplicity- the simple focus of loving others. That is the only thing that brings order to the madness that so characterizes life in our country.

So as I give more time to my journaling I will continue this simplifying and awareness of Gods faithful love that is meant to be shared.

Simple Things- Spring

2009-05-06T18:27:00.003-05:00

Well if it was up to the birds and me Spring would really be here and the way I like it- warm and sunny! Id also be planting the 20 + pots of flowers and herbs sitting on my deck. Instead Im watching the rain drip, drip, drip with no break in the clouds and the weatherman's promise of another weekend of rain. Yet without the rain all the above pleasures would not happen and Id feel like I was living in Afghanistan.

Simple Things- The Chair

2009-04-03T21:57:00.003-05:00

I sketched a chair in my journal page today inspired by a quote from Thoreau -

"I had three chairs in my house

One for solitude

Two for friendship

Three for society "

Its the simplest things that can bring great thoughts.

Simple Things- The Blizzard

2009-03-28T19:01:00.000-05:00

The soup is simmering and the fire is roaring but where is the "Blizzard of the Century"? I was hoping to wake up to a winter wonderland instead the grass was bright green and the trees were still covered in new leaves. Central Oklahoma never got the 1-6 inches of snow we were promised. By mid-day we had a steady fall of flakes but the warmth of the day melted most of it away. Still it was a simple thing to enjoy the contrast of color and white.

2009-03-26T15:09:00.000-05:00

Just a few days into the "official" first day of Spring and it looks like the Blizzard of the Century is coming. It arrives tonight according to the meteorologists and the temperature is slowing dropping. Its misty with a fine drizzle falling. It seems perfect for a hot cup of Earl Grey.

Simple things - Spring

2009-03-25T09:09:00.000-05:00

In keeping with my thoughts on Simple Things Im trying to enjoy each day and find one simple thing to give thanks to the Lord for. I see how quickly I miss the things all around. Spring is now officially here in the weather challenged state of Oklahoma and Im surprised how fast the blooming of the Bradford Pear and Red Bud are. I just looked up and the dead trees were white with flowers and today most have turned to green. Not wanting to miss The Red Bud show I grabbed my camera.

Live Simply that others might Simply live 2009

2009-03-22T12:40:00.000-05:00

This has been my thoughtful meditation for a few months now and the theme of this year. Im trying to understand what my part is and explore how this can become a deeper place in my life.

Living simply before God

Living Simply with others

Living Simply to give refreshment to those who are needful

Learning to cultivate the Simple gifts of life.

New Hobby

2008-07-21T00:30:00.000-05:00

As most of you that care know -Mike left for Afghanistan in Feb.2008
He surprised me with a new camera. No more point and shoot.
So off to photography class for me... well actually I didn't leave my computer chair. My online class is fantastic and perfect for a " is the teacher still droning on" person like myself.

Ive got another 14 weeks and maybe I"ll know what Im doing.
With six grandkids I have lots of subject matter.

Nothing makes us so lonely as our secrets

2008-03-02T12:31:00.000-06:00

I just entered a postcard -sized international art show highlighting womens issues. It's called Treasure PostCards and my entry is below. Its an altered photo and my original poem.

Cleaning Lady

2008-02-04T19:29:00.000-06:00

I've been working on my writing lately and one of writing prompts was to write about a less than remarkable aspect of my life-

THE CLEANING LADY

I am the cleaning lady

No pride or glamour in my profession

I pick up other's messes

Scouring and polishing to temporary perfection

Down on hands and knees

Cleaning floors that are dirtied again with no regard

I am the cleaning lady

Picking up the pieces of broken lives

Trying to mend heartaches

Sweeping away the pain

Always needed - not always acknowledged.

I am the cleaning lady

I am a Mother.

The Abused

2007-10-29T01:02:00.000-05:00

My altered Madonna collage( I will Protect Your Heart) is dedicated to every mother who has left a domestic violence situation for the sake of her children. She has a daily battle both for herself and her family as she tries to reclaim her life, her self-worth and her soul. To these strong women whose deepest longing is to protect their children - may you find God's unfailing help and comfort.