Sleigh Ride!

Hello and we're back. I have plenty to tell about our 2 week trip but let me tell you first about the drive to work this morning. It was snowing. I dropped my husband's chain saw blade off to be sharpened and a guy was outside the shop calling for a tow truck because at 8:30 AM he had already slid off the road and crashed his pull behind trailer into his NEW pickup truck. He lived to cell about it so I gave my condolence and travelled on to Anderson to my shop.
I was driving along highway 9 and I put a holiday tape in the tape player of my car. It's all instrumental music. So as I floated along amidst snowflakes and slick roads, a song came on the tape that sounded like music with horses clip clopping in the background. Just as I heard the clip clop, a cloud of snow blew off a car in front of me and I swear for a minute I pictured myself in a horse driven sleigh travelling into Anderson. I had to laugh. Snow flying everywhere and me bundled up in blankets behind the reins.
I thought of Florida too; nice weather almost everyday (except for the horrendous storms that blow through) and how a lot of folks go there to get away from cold weather. Imagine never seeing another snowstorm, no more tingling cold skin and deep cold breaths, icicles, frost (OMG! FROST! - God's icing!)

Yes We Can

In case you missed it, America elected her first African-American president...Barack Obama! As I watched his speech on election night, I noticed his use of the expression "Yes we can!" OK, I know that was his campaign slogan, but as I watched him standing there, the camera so close in on his face, I began to think about that phrase, "Yes we can." And as I thought of that phrase, I thought of the numerous times in my own life that I have stepped to my own self made doors marked "You can't" and I haven't. And what does it take for this guy to get that "yes I can" philosophy inside his head? Because he has had to get that inside his head. And what will it take for me to get it inside my head? Of course the "You can't" doors have to go.
And what if a nation, from coast to coast, started to get rid of the "you can't" doors?

My husband and I are leaving tomorrow for a two week vacation. During that time, I want to do some mental house keeping or maybe even remodelling. I'm taking out the "you can't" doors and installing some arches... that's a little better entry into the land of possibilities. Is this a great country or what?

In Loving Tribute

On October 14, 2008 my aunt Margaret Stevens passed away
from a massive stroke at the age of 84. She was my mother's twin sister. They were not identical in appearance or in nature. Yet, since my mother's death on August 14, 1989 I could not help but see Mama in my aunt Margaret's face.
I didn't go to the funeral since my family is almost 600 miles from here. I tried to talk to friends and family members about my feelings toward Margaret. It didn't help very much.
I had my children come over for dinner on Sunday in honor of our aunt. I told them that it felt wrong to have someone so significant depart my life and the week just go on as usual. I felt that we should be together as a family at a time like this. I wanted to just close my eyes right then and let all that was in me flow out about this sweet lady. However, my husband decided that this was a point where we should review for him just who was who in my family. (By the way, we've been married for 34 years.) So I stopped to bring him up to speed on the fact that Margaret lived with Valorie (her sister - my mother's sister - my other aunt). The mood was broken.
Laying in bed on Sunday night, thinking about the week and my frustration with being unable to put to words just what was going on inside my head, it occured to me that perhaps writing about this sweet lady might help me the most.
My aunt Margaret was quiet and most would think she was meek. Though my Mom told the story of how young, meek Margaret, walking home from school was teased by a fellow classmate. I cannot remember if the bully was teasing Margaret or my Mom but out of the blue, Margaret had had enough and suddenly flew into a flogging fit on the bully. According to Mom, it was amazing!
I never saw this part of aunt Margaret. What I did see was a kind and sweet soul. She always made mention of my hair or what I was wearing as if it were wonderful. Couldn't have a better hair cut or my choice of clothing was the best. Aunt Margaret made me feel like a rock star! I was cool in her eyes.
We lived within walking distance of my grandparents house. Whenever one of us kids (there were 9 of us) got sick, aunt Margaret or my grandmother would take a bread pan, place 4 or 5 teacups inside the pan, fill each cup with a couple of tablespoons of food from their dinner. Then they'd wrap a biscuit or chunk of cornbread in a piece of tinfoil and place that inside the pan too. Finally, they'd cover the entire sampler with a dish towel to keep things warm and bring it over to the sick child. You always felt like you were gonna live when you saw that sampler. It was hope in a bread pan!
Aunt Margaret never married and lived with my grandparents until they passed away. She was a maiden aunt. Anyway, she and my grandmother always had a wonderful Christmas Eve party at their house every year until I was in my late 20's. And they would have a gift under the tree for everyone in attendance. We're talking 5 generations of greats and grands!
My aunt Margaret collected tiny, glass shoes for a number of years. Several years ago she gave me one of the few remaining shoes stating that she wanted me to have a memento of her collection.
Aunt Margaret loved to decorate her house and would change things out constantly. She and my Mom worked in tandum to keeps furniture, lamps, pictures, what-nots, etc. moving from one house to the other. You never knew where the chair you were sitting on today would be next week.
Sometimes, Aunt Margaret dabbled in art. I remember sitting in her living room with two of my sisters and getting the giggles over a plaque that Margaret had made that...well...let's just say she could have been a star in the outsider art movement.
My aunt Margaret worked hard to help her family. In some ways, losing her was like losing Mom all over again. I'll miss her. Ultimately, there are really no words to speak or write that adequately reveal the loss I feel.

Fall Holding Pattern

I'm in a funk. There is no better word to describe it. I don't know if it's the unknown of the election season, the unknown of the economy or just the unknown in general. I'm watching more news than I usually do, even to the point of checking and rechecking the news on the internet. And for those who know me, this isn't me. There's a lot to be said for ignorant bliss.... my usual state.
I was talking to a friend the other day about entrophy... "a measure of the randomness, disorder, or chaos in a system." It's always with us. It's in every system that you can think of be it your heart, your car, the universe or the eye of a needle. Just when you think you have everything perfected entrophy shows up with a rust spot, a blood clot or a mass of dead, fake lady bugs accumulating in the corners of the window screen.
Entrophy is what makes being in a funk so scary. I can sit here and ponder the world in general but that won't stop the bucket of tomatoes sitting in my kitchen from rotting. And I can take action on the tomatoes and something else loses ground.
I believe that being in a funk is necessary sometimes. It gives us humans some rebooting time. A little time to regain our position and get started on new projects or new paths. I'm even contemplating taking a physics class. I feel like my brain needs a stretching. Of course entrophy will be at work on that too. It's such a vicious cycle.

Money talks.

One morning last week I woke up to find that a thick fog was covering my world like a foamy blanket. I decided to take a walk down to the creek to see if I could get some pictures of the herrons that often hang out there. I was right, the herrons were there but they were too fast for me. All the pictures that I took were blurry. So I started back to the house. As I made my way along the road, I happened to glance over at the sunrise and then I looked again. Yeah, a double take! The sun was burning through the mist and the soybean field was golden and glowing and eerie and my mind just sizzled. I took a picture figuring that the glare would be too much but it turned out to be just enough. Man, life on Earth is just a moment to moment mind boggler.
As for "Money talks".... About 8 or 10 years ago, I worked as a bank teller for First of America Bank. I liked the job Ok but didn't care for the head teller who seemed to think the bank was her own personal bank and everyone else working there (including the bank manager) were her bitches. Yet, that job helped me learn something very important. I learned that "FOCUS" or paying attention to details is super important when you are dealing with money. When you walk through the door in the morning, you need to leave all the drama in your personal life behind. Why, because as you are counting out money, those little personal demons will mess with your mind and you will give out too much cash. Bankers don't like that in a teller. Slowing down and paying attention to details is vital in banking.
I don't claim to be any kind of money expert but it made me sad and angry to hear about well known and respected institutions of money in this country getting into such lousy shape because someone, somewhere got in a hurry and let those little greed and pressure demons take charge of their good sense. They lost their respect for money. Details were no longer important. Focus was out the window. Money can be a great tool to make a difference in this mind boggling world. Let's hope this ice water in the face moment in our nation's history will clear some heads and set things on a better path.

A Moving Experience - part 2

Here it is, an empty space ready for it's next occupant. I am amazed at what I have accomplished over a month's time. I had a lot of small things that had to be put into boxes, bags, jars, or anything that could hold extra stuff and take it across the hall. There wasn't time to put anything away because the clock was ticking....September 1st. Thankfully I was able to get finished last Friday. I wanted to post this picture and give a shout out to a wonderful space. I loved this room! It's big and has this fabulous skylight. The skylight was so nice to let in natural light and when it rained outside, I could hear the raindrops pitter against the skylight. It felt like a little tap dance just for me. And it always made this large space seem so cozy.

I also wanted to post a picture of my night blooming cereus - a cactus that is starting to take over the building. I placed it on top of a built in office in this building. I think it likes my choice of placement as just in a week's time, it's leaves are starting to sprout babies.

And I just have to show you the 2 supply closets that will become my new studio. As I have already told you, I just set things down in there and kept moving. Now that the moving phase is over, I can take a little time and go through this stuff. Hopefully, I will be able to let go of some things that I would have to live two life times to get around to making things with them.

A Moving Experience

August has been a hot month! And I'm not just talking about the heat! I've been so busy that I am not sure if I am coming or going or just gettting back from where I went. We've had visitors. My darling sister, Marlene and her daughter Johnsie and Johnsie's two sons, Alex and Ethan came for a visit the first week of August! I enjoyed their visit so much. Marlene and I went searching for things to go in her home to create a lodge look. We visited the Lake and Lodge store in Arcadia, Indiana. We went to lunch at the Loon Lake Lodge on 82nd street. She loved that place with their animated bears and various other wildlife. And we went to the Shellhouse in Indianapolis. It's a 5 story storage building which is owned by my husband. She found a love seat and rocker that will be perfect in her lodge living room. The boys played a lot of croquet and I do mean a lot! Ethan won the championship tournament!

Then a week after they went back to North Carolina, my son, Ben came for a two week visit from Los Angeles. He wanted to meet his new niece - Korrine. Like the rest of us, he just melted at the sight of her. It is always love at first sight with that baby. And of course he was constantly finding ways to have adventures with his two brothers and sister. Somehow a garden cart became a ready made ricshaw (sp?) Having him home was wonderful!

Also, I want to mention something wonderful that happened during HOT! August. My youngest son, Harrison, my baby, got engaged to the lovely Brittany B. They have been going together for almost 5 years and plan a July 09 wedding.

On top of all of that, I found out at the end of July that the renters in the back of the building are expanding their business and will be taking over my studio. They need my wonderful space. So for the past 3 weeks I have been boxing up and moving to the other side of the building into a space I have come to call "The Inner Sanctum." It's basically 2 huge supply closets. I'm including a few pictures of the move in process.
There is nothing like moving to clue a person into the fact that they have too much stuff. These pictures are the before pictures... though I did have a bunch of boxes piled up in the room on the left. At this point, the last week of August, I have almost completed the move out. I will post some more pictures in a day or so to show all the stuff that needs to be put away. It was just imperitive that I get the space cleared out as they have semi trucks on the way with stuff that will fill that wonderful space.

Philip's Dream - "Travelling Through a Hostile Land"

They were moving slowly down the street
carried by a driver.
Nervous, he saw two children
with branches.
It struck a chord of fear
as if a sign.
This is not right,
speed it up!
Get out of here quickly!
The Arab man
in the kitchen of his fine home
was startled.
He looked up to see an old man -
a Jew. He was in his home - uninvited.
"What do you want?"
"What are you doing here?"
His children, a boy and a girl
looked aghast.
His wife was horrified.
"Step outside" the old man said.
"I want to talk to you."
They walked out to the garden
then the street.
"I want you to rent me a room."
Before the Arab could answer
a shot rang out.
The daughter, shotgun in hand,
had blasted both the Jew and her father.
They both lay in the street.
The Arab wounded, the Jew dead.
The mother horrified, grabbed the shotgun
and her daughter and quickly put them
both in the house.
She said said "Look what you have done...
he was our support."
She returned to help her husband back in just as a torrential
rain began to fall.
The water flooded the street and
the body of the Jew washed randomly under a parked car.
Two people observed this bizzare scene.
One turned to the other and asked
"Why do they leave the dead man's body
in the street?"
The answer "He is a Jew, that's how
they treat the Jews."
The young boy goes to the back door of the house.
There is another Jew there.
He has a scooter, a push scooter.
He tells the boy, "You can have this."
The boy gratefully accepts.
The other Jew turns to leave
and sees the boy come to him.
He presents him with a gift
two beat up shoes - more precisely a
shoe and a sandal.
The Jew accepts the gift and leaves.

"I am reminded of a true story. One Jewish man, perhaps confused, perhaps deranged, perhaps on a mission from G_d, was walking randomly from his home in a Jewish settlement on the West Bank through Arab territory. He was killed and his body was found, perhaps his killers were never found. What would happen if a thousand Jews, each alone, went on such a walk. Would they all be killed? And if they were, suppose a thousand more walked the next day and a thousand more the next? What would happen?"

Happy Holidays - Summer Style!

Maybe some of you thought that I had dropped off the Earth. I have been to North Carolina during July to visit my family. I had such a great time! Usually I come back ready to be back. This time was different. I had so much fun, first off traveling down there with my daughter -Kora, her husband - Jonathan, my granddaughter - Korinne and Jon's mother - Nancy. We stayed together for the week in my sister's house (which once belonged to my parents). I loved it! At the end of the first week, they came home and I spent the rest of the time visiting my sisters and brothers. I'm homesick. When I hear my sisters talking about getting together to go to the pool, I am soooooooo jealous!

I guess that you noticed the holidays theme with the opening photo. Santa, shopper girl, a snowman bell and a little touch of glitter stars. Well, my friend Ruth and I were talking several months ago about how we can't get jazzed up to make Christmas crafts until after Thanksgiving. After that crucial time we both go at gift making like crazy. So I told her that on July 25, I am officially starting my holidays. I am playing carols and looking at Christmas stuff - ornaments, glitter, tinsel, etc. Which brings me to bears. For some reason, I am wanting to make some teddy bears but with a paper mache bear head. Here's a picture of where I'm at in the process.

And now for another North Carolina moment. I was walking up on the hill with my sister to check her water line for lizards. She has a spring and a spring box but sometimes lizards get in the tubing and really stop things up. As we were walking back down the hill, I noticed what a great garden my brother has out this year. You should see his cabbages - my favorite vegetable!Anyone who knows me knows how I love gardens. So I'm including a garden view from the Pisgah National Forest in the Blue Ridge Mountains - my home away from home.

A Little About Hope

I try to avoid the political on my blog because I am not overtly political. Yet, I can tell you this about myself.... I am a dreamer! I have a vision for what I think the world should be. What brought this up? Well, last week I was driving to work and some guy on the radio started talking about the Israel -Palestinian conflicts. And he started the "If this -then that" dialogue. Each time he gave an "If this -then that" scenario, the "then that" got worse. I found myself getting more and more stressed by the guy so I reached over, turned off the radio and took a deep breath. Who needs to listen to a joy kill?

Trouble is they seem to be everywhere. I hear people freaking out over gas prices, the environment, the war, the other war, pedophiles, celebrities, the mortgage crisis and the economy. And these are just a drop in the bucket. But I will tell you something I learned in grade school. If you go in to take a test and you're stressing over failing the test there is a good chance you will fail it. We need someone to start talking possibilities to us. For goodness sake, this country has landed a man on the moon, several times. I feel like we need to shut off all this panic talk and start getting solutions. Hope is a powerful thing but it often has a small voice and can be drowned out by "If this -then that." Yet hope can also be tenacious and will grab on and keep coming back even in the toughest time. Have you ever heard of the concept that the breeze from a butterflies wings is the action that ultimately makes up the power of a tornado or hurricane? So I am mentioning hope here in this little blog on the internet. Maybe someone else will mention it too and on and on to the point that it is the main thing we call for in this nation. Give us hope and then let's get to the solutions!

AFTER

Hello again! I have finished....for now, on my landscaping in the hosta bed. It did not take but a couple of days and only a few hours on those days. Yet it feels like forever since I blogged anything. My son... Dr. L.A. said I should post more often and that is going to be my goal. However, next week and the week after that, I will be in North Carolina visiting my family. So I should have gobs of stuff to tell you after that. As for the AFTER photo, I need more mulch but I am waiting to see where the poison ivy is actually coming up so that I can get to the root of it.

BEFORE

Recently, I was listening to a book on tape by Dr. Phil McGraw....Life Strategies. He spent most of the tape on who you are and why you are the way you are. Blah, blah, blah. I suppose that if I were looking for a quick psychological encapsulation of my essence this would have been important. And maybe it is important but for the life of me, I can't remember a thing from that part of the tape. However, during the last 20 minutes or so of the tape the good doctor began talking about goal setting. This was the meat of the book! He made the point that in goal setting it is important to be specific. Thus this lovely picture of an overgrown hosta bed. I have a lot of landscaping on about a dozen garden beds around our home. To some this goal would seem overwhelming. Yet by being specific and concentrating on one task at a time the over all goal can be accomplished. So I took a picture of this one bed with it's 13 hostas and I'm concentrating on it. I'll post the AFTER by the end of next week.

MY LITTLE WREN!

Did I recently mention that I just became a grandmother? On March 11, 2008 my daughter gave birth to Korinne Ray and she is wonderful and more wonderful! I do believe that she has the power of magnitisim. I pick her up and even though I need to leave, I can't put her down. Last night I drew this little picture of her as I probably won't be posting any of her photographs. I get nervous when it comes to her.

Mother's Day 08 part 2

When I was a young girl, I never imagined myself as a mother. When my sisters and my cousins and I played house, I was always the Dad. I was sort of bookish / mad scientist / save the world girl (at least in my own head). My grandmother once told us kids about this thing she did as a young girl where she and her sister sat in a dark closet and lit a candle and looked into a jar of water in front of them with the candle behind them to see the man they would marry and lo and behold she saw my grandfather years before he showed up to be her husband. A miracle of sorts. Well, when I was a girl I didn't have any idea about the miracle that was coming my way and I felt like it was useless to climb into a closet to check what was coming. I didn't think anything was coming.

Then I met Phil. He had the bluest eyes and that was the first thing that I noticed about him. The eyes were followed by a wonderful smile. If ever there was love at first sight then it was love at first sight. He has been my friend and love ever since that day over 35 years ago.

And if that wasn't enough of the miraculous, after we got married, we started having children.

Well, God must really like me because he sent me 4 of his best creations. Good ones everyone. I know that on Mother's Day we're suppose to kiss the feet of the women who brought us through and if my Mom was here, I'd gladly do that, but I take this opportunity to mention my wonderul children. You make me what I am today, a better person for having known you.

Mother's Day 08 part 1

It is Mother's day and I am thinking of Mama. She died in August of 1989 and I miss her. So I decided that I would just write about her. She was a good mother. She made me feel like I was her very favorite child out of 9 children. And I'm pretty sure my 8 siblings felt they were each her favorites. Mama had dark hair and eyes and I have dark hair and eyes. My brothers and sisters are various shades of blond, and all but a couple have china blue eyes. This made me feel like I was more like Mama's people. Mama was steady and calm. She had insight that often ran up against my Dad's stoic, tow the line attitude. She knew when to slacken the line and that is not always an easy judgement for a parent especially when she knew she'd have heck to pay. And I use heck there deliberately because Dad wasn't an oger, he adored Mama. Dad just thought he was "the Man!" and everyone else got to live in his world. So when Mom made a different call, Dad saw it as a coup on the kingdom.

Anyway, I am thinking of Mom today. She made the best macaroni and cheese, fried chicken and green beans in the whole world. Her sense of humor endeared her to everyone who knew her. She was brave too. I'll give you an example. She use to work on the third floor at Smokey Mountain Hoisery Mill in Marion, North Carolina. She would put a card of socks in a plastic bag and then stick the open end of the bag under a searing hot, sealing machine which sealed the open bag shut. One day, Mama accidentially got her hand caught in the bag sealer. She couldn't get the machine to open and neither could anyone else. The hot metal seared into the four fingers of her hand like a branding iron. The women around her started screaming. Several came close to fainting. My mom sitting there with her hand in the hot mouth of this machine, had the presence of mind to look about her work area. She spotted a screw driver sitting near by and with her free hand grabbed that tool and shoved it into the sealing machine. She pryed her hand free of that contraption to the relief of the entire 3rd floor. She had to have painful skin graphs but I never heard her complain. To Mama, these kinds of happenings were just part of the experience called life. She once told me, in speaking of a tough time in my marriage, that I'll have tough times and I'll have good times and the hope is that the good times outweigh the bad times. I think this was her outlook on life. She looked for the good in people and in her experiences and I don't think she left this world with many regrets. I sure do miss her.

Baby in a box 2

I was on my way to work one day last week and I saw the sign... "Yard Sale "... and, well, I stopped. I really didn't have that much time so I gave the sale a quick scan. I picked up a little what-not and headed for the money taker. And then I saw her sitting across the covered tent. A baby doll all alone in a box. She sat by herself as if the seller was not sure that this doll was part of the sale. So I asked "How much for the doll?" The seller thought a while and said "$1.00" and I started scrambling for the loose change in my pockets and my car. A dollar for a doll who obviously has a ton of history coming with her. The seller said that she has had this doll for almost 50 years. Fifty years! Can you imagine? This doll has that woman's childhood written all over her so it amazed me that she could let her go. Yet, the good thing is, she is probably a doll that I had as a child as well. None of my childhood dolls survived the journey so I am laying claims. This baby is my baby and one day she will be my new grand daughter's baby. She can tell everyone how this was her grandmother's doll from way back in the dinosaur age. And that is all she will need to know. And when I found this doll, I thought that I would try to clean her up and make her a pretty dress but nah, I've got a life and I love the history that covers this sweet doll. How many times have you seen those guys on Antiques Roadshow point out that if the lovely antique item had it's original patina it would be worth ten times what it does now that the owner has restored it to like new condition? So my baby can just lay on top of that little pink jump suit and pile of tissue paper in her Hush Puppy shoe box and feel the love. And if one day my darling, grand daughter wants to take my baby doll out and drag her around the room, that's fine too....more history added.

I Love the World

I saw this You Tube moment a while back and really liked it. I thought I'd pass it along. I hope you like it as much as I do.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V5BxymuiAxQ

FAUXBOT 1000

When I was a young girl, maybe 10 or 12 years old, I built a spaceship / club house in my parents side yard. Truthfully, it looked like a heap of boards stacked in some weird world cone shape. And though I don't remember much about how many people could fit inside or even if I ever climbed inside it myself, (it was about the size of a 4 foot tall porta-potty), it marked a great accomplishment for me. I built something! And I think it must have been a success as I came home from school one day and it was gone. Right now, as we go about our merry lives, that pile of boards and nails may be orbiting our planet or be on it's way to world's unknown. Of course the truth is more likely my Dad threw it on a burn pile and that was the last of it. Yet I like to think of it somewhere out in the universe - an unmanned ship - so I never asked too many questions.

Recently, my friend Julie, my son Barnaby and I stopped by a new restaurant / art gallery in Greenfield, Indiana. It's called Rock, Paper, Scissors. As I walked into the restaurant, in the corner stood a 7 foot tall robot sculpture made mostly of wood and what looked to be old stove parts. Immediately, I knew that I had to have one. A few days later I was at work and I happened to look out across the street to the parking lot and I saw a hunk of black plastic. I walked over and picked it up. At first I thought, "What if this is a bomb placed here by terrorists?" (That's just the way my brain works). It had "Ford" imprinted on the top of it so I figured that it had fell off someone's vehicle. I couldn't help but notice that it had 2 holes where eyes would be and well I kind of went from there. A week later I had made what I refer to as a FAUXBOT - it looks like a robot but doesn't really do anything. I figured it for a garden sculpting. It can hold a planter and has a bird house in it's back. Also, the roofing rubber that covers it's body makes a great chalk board message center. I like the idea of garden art make from junk. Maybe it's a way of keeping more debris out of landfills. FAUXBOTS of the world united to preserve the planet!

An overall view of my studio

I have been cleaning in my studio today. I've hesitated until now because it is a bit cool in there. Instead, I work in a smaller, heated, office type area in another part of the building. Over the winter my studio has become a catch all for everything in boxes and bags looking for a home. Now that spring is starting to show itself, things are warming up and I long to get in there and get cranking on some art! My studio is in a building that was once part of the Madison County Indiana School System. About 5 years ago, my husband bought the building and started a kitchen and bath cabinet company - Central Cabinet- and set me up as the sales force. Ha,ha. (He is the same guy who said that I couldn't sell my way out of a paper bag.)
I started this blog to showcase what is going on in my studio. I have every type of art supply that a person would possibly need to make anything. I am so blessed. Yet, lately, I feel like I am looking at my art through a thin veil. Recently, I started studying the art of Jean-Michel Basquiat. I envy the freedom that he brought to a canvas, whether it be on paper or the side of a building. Slam - bam -art I am! I want to loosen up and slam some art myself. I want to clear out the clutter in my life and brain and have nothing but room to fly into an art rage.
Also, right beside this building is a railroad track. It is so close to the building that it often looks like they are parking the train in the back of the building as it goes past. The nice thing about this is that I get to see the graffiti on trains as they come through. You might be amazed to see some of the things I have seen painted on rail cars. Once there was a person's screen printed image on the side of a train. It was gorgeous as it went past. So I decided that I will try to keep a camera on hand to document this travelling art show. I will also try to post a few on my site.
And I want to let everyone know that I am working to get a Flickr site established on my blog because I have lots of things to show you. It takes me a while to figure things out but I will keep at it. Right now I struggle with getting the photo images loaded to this blog. They will load but moving them into the right spot is another story.

It's a great country!

My husband says that I should post my political opinions on my blog. Perhaps he is right or perhaps that would just make me the object of someones unreasonable hate. One thing about opinions is that we all have one and most often they're free for the giving. There is an old saying that one should avoid the topics of religion and politics in polite company. And we do vote secret ballot so I'll save my political opinion for the ballot box. I'm saying all of that to say this. Last week, I was sitting at home listening to the local news and they mentioned that Senator Hillary Clinton was bringing her campaign to Indiana. OK, I expected that. Then they said that she would be coming to Anderson, Indiana and that sort of got my attention as I work in Anderson. Then my jaw dropped to my chest when they said she'd be at the old Anderson High School on Thursday. That school is right across the street from my studio! To me this was big!
I knew that a circus atmosphere would be the rule of the day and would provide gobs of blog fodder. So this installment is all about that big event. I walked around the school grounds several times during the day and just snapped pictures of the people and events. My plan was to wait on the parade route and snap a picture of Senator Clinton as she rode past. Here's the thing about the secret service, they do not attach flashing lights to the car with the political candidate inside. I was so excited when her vehicle passed that I didn't even realize that it was her. I got a picture of her automobile with it's window rolled down. She was ready to wave, I'll give her that but I missed her entirely. I guess my paparazzi potential is pretty low.
So I got in line to go inside the gym and get a picture. As I waited in line I heard several men talk about how bad things have become. As I was standing there listening to them grumble, a blond haired woman (beautifully coiffed) drove past in her beautiful vehicle, wearing gorgeous clothes and lovely jewelry. Suddenly, inside her most wonderful world, she made a fist and shook it at the crowd of people lined up along the street. It seemed so strange to me then she laughed and I did too. Aren't we silly?
Several minutes after she'd passed us, a man carrying two signs declaring that Senator Clinton had or had not signed some trade deal came walking past us ... the multitude. The grumbling guys in line behind me grumbled some more about his audacity. And after that a man carrying a Ron Paul sign walked up the railroad tracks. And all this struck me funny and I said out loud "It's a great country!" Upon which the guys in line behind me grumbled some more about how horrible things have become. I came away unconvinced. America is a great country and I am so thankful that God set me down in this land. Through all the politicking, signs waved, the anti-Bush van with all it's bumper stickers against the president, placards decrying the senator, a fist wielding blond, etc, no one was drug out into the street and beheaded. We can speak our minds and offer our free opinions and live to brag about it. If that isn't great in a world where people are thrown into prison for way less, then I don't know what great is.

Floating iceberg to Exile Island

It has been a wonderful week. I became a grandmother this week. I am so ready for the task of extending my wisdom to another generation beyond my own children. My granddaughter is beautiful. But in all the running around following the commotion of such an historic event, I forgot to call one of my dear sisters and let her know that the baby is here! So, OMG, when I did call her I found out that I had broke her heart. She knew that my daughter was in labor but she wanted a follow up and I let her down. I was sick at heart over this. I come from a big family and I know how fast news travels in that crowd. I figured someone would call her right away. They didn't. During our call, my sister told me that sometimes she feels like one of those contestants on Survivor who is sent to Exile Island. There she sits all alone. And I told her that I know the feeling. All my family, besides my husband and kids, live hundreds of miles from me in the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina. Sometimes, when I find out that an elderly relative died years ago, or that the family is getting together for a big dinner, or that so and so's baby is walking and I didn't even know they had a baby, and I realize that no one bothered to inform me of any of this, I feel like I've been set out on an iceberg to float away on icy, Artic waters. There I sit all alone. On comparing our poor, pathetic states, we both laughed. The thing is, I feel bad about this because this particular sister has been like a twin to me. She knows my heart better than anyone in my family. And maybe that is how this fiasco happened. When you are close to someone, it is as if they can read your mind and know your thoughts at any given time. In some sense I kind of figured she'd know but I took her for granted and hurt her. This got me to thinking about love and my family. I have decided that my granddaughter's birth should be a symbol of new birth in my relationships with my family, not just with my children but my extended family as well. I want to know about my siblings and their hopes and dreams. I want to know about my nieces and nephews and their children. My granddaughter will only benefit by having strong ties to her family. I guess the whole thing comes back to my basic thoughts about love. Love is like a living creature. It needs nurishment, protection and expression to live. I want to make sure that whenever any of my loved ones has a feeling of being set out on an island or iceberg they have a rope of love to hold onto.

FROZEN IN PLACE

I came across this youtube moment and I love it! I think this event would fall under a guerilla art event. And I am proud of myself for being able to at least get the location of this thing posted to my blog. I am learning. Just click on this and enjoy!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jwMj3PJDxuo

The Hermitage

Phil and I just got back from a short trip to Nashville, Tennessee. We decided to go tour the Hermitage this past Thursday. It's the home of Andrew Jackson, 7th president of the United States. He and his wife Rachel had quite a set up there. They owned thousands of acres and numerous slaves to work those acres. The neat thing about the Hermitage is that they aren't trying to rewrite history and make believe that the slave thing is inconsequential. The Ladies Historical Society, the foundation in charge of all things Hermitage, is trying to show slave life along side the life of the Jacksons in an upstairs / downstairs sort of way.

Those of you who know me, know how I am always on the look out for a love story. The story of Andrew and Rachel Jackson was a love story that became a big scandal during his presidential campaign. She was a divorcee and through some kind of goof that the Jacksons were unaware of her divorce had not been finalized before they married. You can imagine how his political enemies used that against him. They got married again and Andrew Jackson went on to win the presidency. Well, Rachel Jackson died three days before they were to leave for Washington. At a time when he should have been overjoyed, Andrew Jackson left for Washington with a heavy heart. He did bring along family and friends to keep him company in the White House. Some time passed and then one day President Jackson read in the newspaper that his home in Tennessee had burned to the ground. He sent out a messenger to the Overseer with plans to start rebuilding the house and instructions that the beautiful mural type wallpaper that hung in the huge entrance hall be reordered and hung in the entrance hallway of the new house. Rachel loved that paper and he wanted it in the new house. That wallpaper is still hanging in the entrance hall at the Hermitage and seems to me to be a sort of tribute to their love and affection.

A Cold Day

So, as I was telling you, my sister declared herself on "Snow Watch!" and I declared myself on "Snow Watch!" and then I said "Let's keep a journal of our snow watching endeavor." And she said "OK!" And she just might but I have to tell you she is a hard working woman with little extra time. Nonetheless, I have started a snow journal. I felt like a fool cutting up all those grocery bags to make my journal but I love that type of paper and wanted the journal to look a bit funky. So far it does!

I wanted to feature a particular page in my snow journal here on my blog. I did this page as a tribute to our dog Charlie. Charlie died on January 10, 2008 at the ripe old age of 13. She and I had a love hate relationship. When she first came to be our dog, she could not be confined. She would climb or claw her way out of any situation. She killed cats in her youth and I wont even go into how often that broke my heart. Charlie was scared to death of storms and would tear the back door off our house to get inside. (She was an outside dog). One day during a storm she got into the house and climbed the stairs to the upstairs bedrooms. I have no idea where she was heading. You need to know that Charlie loved getting wet in the pond and creek near our house. She probably would have been a great hunting dog but we aren't into that so her gift was wasted. I came to love Charlie because she was always so interested in what I was doing. I could be planting flowers, or going to the mail box or going for a walk and Charlie was a part of it.Whenever I came home from work she was there to welcome me with that sweet look on her face. The morning that I opened the front door and found that she had died in her bed was the coldest morning of the winter regardless of the temperature. Charlie was a good dog.

Snow Blues

It was snowing this morning as I came to work. I couldn't help but think of the way pepper falls out of the shake and onto mashed potatoes as I watched the snow. Actually I've been into snow this year and it all started from a conversation with my younger sister. She lives in the mountains of western North Carolina and they rarely ever get "substantial" snow except for the rare, late March, big, wet, dump out snow. The kind of snow that falls heavy, lays heavy and takes out the power for two weeks. Back in December, my sister had her house all decorated for Christmas with hopes of a little wonderful, white touch from Heaven. It never showed up. So she declared that she was leaving her outside Christmas lights in place until she gets 2 inches of snow. "I'm on snow watch!" she declared. And I am too. I am here in Indiana watching all the snow that one person can stand!