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A Friend Has Died

December 9, 2007

On December 7th, my friend Rory passed away. Who knew he was such an incredible human being. He will be missed by so many, missed beyond measure.

http://www.legacy.com/HoustonChronicle/
DeathNotices.asp?Page=Lifestory&PersonId=99249818

80s Memory...

November 24, 2007

There is some commercial currently running that plays Love My Way from the 80s. It reminded me of how much I like the song. Thank you, YouTube....

Giving Thanks

November 21, 2007

I am thankful for the abundant food we will be having tomorrow. I am so very thankful for my friends, The Women, who are inviting me to their extraordinary get-together with (at last count) 23 of us! I am thankful for every single day that I am alive because it is one more chance to get it right.

I am thankful for my little town. I am thankful for my hometown.  I am thankful for my beautiful family who graces my life with love and warmth and dreams and so much kindness. I am thankful they knew me when. I am thankful for all the good and all the bad, because every last moment of my life has brought me to this point --- and there couldn't be a better point in the Universe than Now.

The Food and Water Watch group (http://www.foodandwaterwatch.org/) has a few gems this issue to read up on and to watch. One of them is a short film about knowing your food, keeping it close by and celebrating with local treasures (they say to copy/paste the link into your browser's address bar to watch, so I'll give you both)

http://www.foodandwaterwatch.org/food/know-food or http://www.foodandwaterwatch.org/food/know-food

I just took the pledge to use tap (or kitchen-filtered) water instead of bottled water whenever possible. I purchased another counter-top filter for my self-given holiday gift. Considering the bottles I will keep out of the landfills, it is a gift to the earth as well. Happy Holidays, my sweet Mother Earth.

When I was vacationing with my family this past June I created a bin for the recyclables so that we could limit the TONS of garbage we were putting in the dumpster on a daily basis. I purchased a "pop up" mesh laundry bin at the dollar store and lined it with a huge garbage bag. In only three days the bag was more than full.

My dad and step mother had gotten an 8 bedroom beach house and there ended up being around 23 or 24 of us coming or going. Unfortunately, three days was the length of my stay and I seriously doubt anyone took up the recycle habit while I was away. Oh well. We all gotta do our best.

So please visit the water page and think about taking your own pledge to use water sources other than bottled whenever you can http://www.foodandwaterwatch.org/water/Alerts/bottled-water

May all of you experience enormous love and warmth on this holiday season.

Via Colori and the Rain

November 18, 2007

It is Sunday, the second scheduled day of Via Colori, and I don't doubt that they are rained out. I wasn't able to attend - I have to keep my foot/leg up until I see the doctor tomorrow. But they are all probably snafu'd today. Terribly sad considering yesterday was a semi-nice day. I don't know if they completely rescheduled or if they did a one-day deal. I'll alert you to further developments and do hope they simply chose their stand-by weekend (that would mean I actually get to attend!)

November 6, 2007

Via Colori, the street "painting" festival, is coming soon! I had a 10' x 10' square, two fantastic ideas and a whole weekend of great art planned for myself. I gave up my square. I don't get this cast off until the Monday after the event and, even if I were to have my doctor remove it the Friday before, I still doubt he'd appreciate my dragging a still-healing foot around on asphalt for two solid days. I was glad to hear there was a waiting list of artists ready to take over the square, so this year I'll just be a visitor. Not nearly as much fun, but definitely worth the trek up there to see all my art peeps.

It is great for the whole family, and you will see whole families working on their squares. There is also a place for the kids to do their own chalk squares in Via Bambini! Two stages of live music, several bands, Starbucks (!! great for those early morning chalk-ups!) and tons of fabulous foods.

I will see you there!!!

Cabin Fever

October 25, 2007

As my leg atrophies, my beautiful little abode experiences entropy. I sit and watch as the dust gathers and things seem to just disintegrate. Well, maybe not that bad, but slowly the solidity of my material world softens and sags. My little illusion of reality takes on a messy cast, but as this occurs, I paint. I graciously thank Mindpuddles for reminding me of the Box Show, that I had 3 boxes stowed away from last year's show that I did not participate in, and I am about 80% finished with my pieces. They are SPLENDID! If I can, I will pick up a few more boxes (4 more maybe - 7 was always a good number for me) and do those as well. At least do one more because these have such a cool, retro, cosmetic theme to them.

Monday they took weight-bearing x-rays, but cut off the cast before realizing they were to leave it on, so they had to put on yet another cast ...., and the doctor said "looks perfect" so I said "yay! lets take this damned thing off!" to which he said "um, not quite yet."

4 more weeks. Well, 3 weeks and 3 days at this writing. 3 more weeks of crazies, of cabin fever, of atrophy, of dependence on some of the most fabulous friends I could ever have asked for. I have some very special people in my midst. I am truly blessed. To the gills. These are the ones who will keep me from going insane. I also figured out that painkillers aren't for pain, they are for the cabin fever, the "cast claustrophobia" (a very real condition) and for the sense of wanting to crawl right out of your skin. I sit here and learn an enormous lesson in compassion, empathy and care.

My friends have taught me much about caring. They have been here for me and I am forever indebted. Happily, too. So much real love going around. There is nothing in this world quite like it. It becomes everything and I know things I didn't know before.

This afternoon I go in to have this third cast removed to put on a fourth cast -- this one is crooked. It hurts to put my foot down, hurts my entire leg, and now my knee is all cattywhompus. NOT a good thing, considering I am trying to get to where I CAN walk again, not to where I can't. Before the spill, I had been running. Well, walk/sprinting. I would walk about 50 yards, then sprint for 20 yards, as fast as I could. I got into shape SO fast, my legs were transformed. They were becoming strong, steel-like, sleek again. I felt like I could take on the world.

Now I feel like I could just kick my own ass with my good foot......

The Marfa Photos

October 16, 2007

Here a few of the Marfa photos. If you email me, I'll send you a link to the whole lot... http://laceycrawford.com/marfa07/marfa07_01.html

Click to open a larger shot of each cast.

The Marfa Story

October 9, 2007

We're back from Marfa at last. 10 hour drive there that turned into a 24 hour trek, but an actual 10 hour ONLY drive back. On the way to Marfa I picked up my ultra-techie friend Steve in San Antonio and we ended up staying in... Junction? on the way. He'll have to remind me. There are about a thousand little towns we passed by and decided, at around 9 or 10pm, that we just couldn't go on safely through the night so we stopped.

The best thing about that was leaving again early in the morning, watching the world wake up and the landscape change from central Texas to west Texas. As we were driving down from I-10, taking highway 67 to Alpine, a BOBCAT ran right out in front of us. Fortunately, it was a good 20' or 30' ahead of the car so we didn't hit it, but we came very close. It must have seen something on the other side of the road (why did the bobcat cross the road?) because it was hauling bobcat ass.

We slid through the little town of Alpine and made our way into Marfa (about 20 minutes west.) These little towns will slow you down. The speed limit just about everywhere inside the towns is 30 mph. On the highways in west Texas -- 80 mph. I guess the highway department knows we cityfolk want to come and go quickly, but stay as long as we can while there.

The first day was great, filled with trips through the little town and artists at The Marfa Camp who had come early to help hang/install the show in the building of the International Women's Foundation, this old army facility with living quarters, a kitchen, partially refurbished and partially still a beautifully ruined relic. The place was magical. I'll post photos just as soon as Steve and I get our acts together.

A big party was planned for both Friday and Saturday nights at our camp so the games were soon to begin. I had all the accoutrements I needed to survive, even picking up a tent and some sleeping bags in case Steve wanted to camp outside -- I had a spot reserved inside with a ton of other artists. How truly Bohemian. Sometime during the afternoon, Wayne Gilbert of G-Gallery came up to Steve and suggested we take over one of the art rooms at the front (after everyone leaves in the wee hours, of course) so that we could have privacy and a little more cleanliness than the "VIP Room" in back. We gradually let on that we weren't a couple (!!!) but what a delightful offer for a girl a little unaccustomed to a lot of dirt.

The party commenced on Friday at the Marfa Camp as the townspeople and art-goers converged. We were a popular gallery in the midst of more established environs throughout the town. We were about a mile or so from the epicenter, but we seemed to have become our own center of the Universe. Of about 60 artists in our compound, I seemed to be about the only female artist to have shown up. Gus Kopriva's wife, Sharon, and Wayne's wife, Beverly, were there as were some girlfriends of other artists, but I felt rather like one of the guys, made completely welcomed and at home.

And to think I hadn't wanted to go. Silly me.

As the party went on, the night became electrified. As I was snapping a shot of some art in one of the rooms, a couple of guys wandered in and realized I was shooting, so one of them moved out of the frame. I asked for him to please get back IN the shot and he turns around and says "Lacey!??" ... it was my old friend Neal! There he was in Marfa, Texas, taking a look at the art while I'm snapping a shot of him. Funny little world. I later went partying in the town with him and his crazy friends, eating beef jerky and perusing the other galleries. They ended up standing in line to get into some club and that's when I decided to take my leave, having Neal haul me back to Camp Marfa.

Upon arriving there, I continued my own partying into the night and at one point decided I needed to get my phone out of my car, where it was charging. I'm not quite sure what my intentions were with the phone because it was probably close to midnight, but I wanted to get it anyway before going any further. Steve had found me and we were chatting a bit as we walked out the front door of the building.... I took a step off the front concrete slab and my ankle gave way, sending a searing, sharp pain up my leg and sending my whole body crumbling to the ground.

The pain was excruciating. Steve came right down after me, worried that a limb had fallen off, I was shouting so loud. I began crying for the pain. It was horrid. Tommy, wonderful Tommy the artist who "installed" my own undies art at the exhibit, came to see what was up. He CARRIED me to the sofa in the front room while so many others began to help me get comfortable. Mit, one of the artists' partners, grabbed a big ice pack and immediately wrapped my ankle, then found a potent painkiller that helped me ease into my situation, but the shock had already sunk in.

My ankle swelled, my entire leg ached with sporadic stabbing pains and the world wouldn't be the same for a long, long time. For the remainder of the evening, people came and went and all were so kind and concerned and real. These were some of the most fascinating and talented people I've ever met, and they all had heart. I am blessed to have met them all. This is an open Thank You to everyone I came in contact with during the Marfa weekend. Angels all.

I ended up sleeping in the front room after all, clean, cool, comfortable, on my new air mattress with my new injury. The next day was spent convalescing on the various sofas that were dispersed throughout the building. One sofa was in the shade of the back courtyard (where music played the night before) and one was in the VIP room, fan blowing, windows opened wide.

Steve and I went out for a late breakfast, me gimping along slowly on a swollen ankle... in flipflops. Not exactly the way I should have been getting around but it wasn't like I had many choices. After dropping me back off at our building, he went out in search of a cane or walking stick, and came back with one of those aluminum walkers (!) Too funny but it worked for getting me around without stressing my ankle any more than it was already.

The gorgeous afternoon with its light breezes and cumulous clouds slipped into evening, when everyone decided to go into town for the free dinner and concert. I stayed back because my ankle was worse than ever. I was on Aleve, Ibuprophen and hope. Neal visited to check on me and a few others dropped in to see about the artist-clutz. I got to where I felt I was becoming a distraction and didn't want any negativity to emerge from my mishap. Although too late, I certainly didn't want to be remembered as the girl who busted her ankle at the Chinati art thing in Marfa. I decided to leave first thing Sunday morning and drive straight through to Houston where I could truly rest and get a great shower and a decent night's sleep.

Drive we did (well, Steve drove the first half, then I took over to San Antonio where I dropped him off to fly back to Dallas) and I made it home by 5:30 on Sunday evening. Monday morning I made the appointment with an orthopedic surgeon.

After an ankle x-ray he poked and prodded me, bending and shifting with no real decision on the source of the swelling and pain. Standing up, I told him of this clicking toward the top of my calf, on the outside, that bothered me. Just about every step I took brought on this weird popping but there was no pain there, though there was swelling. He sent me back to x-ray then back to the exam room. He and the PA walked in with this Ah HA! look on their faces -- they showed me the leg x-ray and there was a clean, perfect break, right there at the top of my leg. I had broken my fibula, the smaller of the two bones in the leg.

I am now in a cast -- I chose red for how pissed off I am -- almost up to my knee. A hard, un-removeable cast. In two weeks I see the doctor again to determine if I'll need pins put in.  I hope not.  He said the break was so clean, the alignment so beautiful (even after me slogging around for two days with it popping, bone end against broken bone end) that he would hold off on pinning it in hopes that it would mend properly and we could just rely on the cast for healing.

I'll post photos of both the Marfa show and my cast shortly. For now, I've got to go put this thing up because it is swelling madly behind all the hardened gauze.

Wait'll I tell you about the Black Widow spider and the Scorpion, fighting for their lives while the artist guys placed their bets.....

Here are a few shots you might like to ponder.......

Marfa Bound

October 3, 2007

After much contemplation, I've decided to make the 600 mile trek to Marfa, Texas for the weekend. The instructor of my foundry course, David Medina, said that I should go because I have pieces in the exhibit. I will be in the G-Gallery's portion of the Chinati Foundation Annual Art exhibit . I sort of lucked into it but am glad to be there during the weekend's festivities. I'll take plenty of photos. I'm working on my Flickr cell phone capability so that I can send photos to that, as well. I'll send a link if I get one.....

You will find the G-Gallery's catalog, Camp Marfa, here.

As usual, art on!

Rattletree at the Artery Saturday

September 24, 2007

Rattletree (myspace) (Rattletree website) was great. They are a group of semi- geeky guys mixed with a little surfer-wannabes, with a lot of white-boy-gone-Zimbabwe. They play conventional drums and conga drums, but the other instruments in their repertoire were four hand-built marimbas and a Matepe. Fabulous sounds. Fascinating seeing these lily white guys sing and play African music with as much passion and talent as if they were from the continent. I was very impressed.

Behind

September 5, 2007

I realize that I am so behind in my blogging but there is little (but to type) that I can do about it. I admire anyone who keeps a daily blog. I keep an almost daily journal. You don't wanna see what I write in there.... or DO you??? Yeah, prolly.

A lot has been going on. The best and most public thing I can write about is my new association with an organization called S.I.R.E. It is a horse therapy group here in the area that is about to celebrate its 25th anniversary. I finally joined the Texas Fillie's Racing Club at the track, per the urgings of my girlfriends who have been with them for eons, and the speaker the very first day I went (okay, the only day I've been, at this point) was from S.I.R.E. (helping people since 1983. ) What a group. I had been praying for God, the universe and my angels to drop the Next Big Thing into my lap. My mentoree, Lucy, is in college and doing so very well and it is time to move onto my next volunteering experience.

Plop. Right in my lap.

This is a most profound organization, and there are around 800 like it in the United States. I urge everyone out there to look into it or the others. Please. Just going out there last Saturday (after attempting to talk myself out of it because of impending rain) did me so much good. I won't start the volunteer training until winter, but I want to work with them in fund-raising, awareness, etc. This is huge.

They've discovered, though the insurance companies won't participate, that this type of therapy is far and beyond the efficacy of conventional therapy. Seeing these kids, clients they call them, get on the horses and respond immediately to the moment, I knew they were right. There is a waiting list to be a client, but we would like the organization to be at the point of having a waiting list for volunteers. I feel so honored to be scheduled for training -- I can hardly wait. But, as important as this is, I want to be ready. I want to get my feet very wet, soaked, by helping out in other ways first. These kids are remarkable and I want to be the best that I can be for them.

When I see them in wheel chairs, stove up and contracted, not speaking, not responding to human touch, get onto these horses (sometimes with the use of hospital lifts because of their weight or the bulk or difficulty of their frames) ... then smile, laugh, SHINE, I cannot help but laugh and cry. This is amazing. Amazing. Pure magic. It was all quietly, gently and graciously dropped right in my lap. What. A. Gift.

I will pick this up and run with it. I must. If you would like to help, there is so much more information on their site. Here is their wish list, and here is their volunteer FAQ. There is so much more all over the site, so please take a look.

There is much more, of course. But I've got to get back to work. As usual.

Discovery

August 26, 2007

My addiction (everyone's addiction) to Planet Earth. Watch it once and become mesmerized. Polar bears, leopard seals, ice caps, Empire penguins regurgitating fish. A beautiful world. Hey, it's a natural thing and we as a human population seem to have done everything in our power to eliminate anything natural -- I just saw a piece on Sunday Morning that we are perhaps even trading sex for more work. No surprise. We're idiots. Damned fool idiots.

Jane Ford and the Over the Hill Gang

August 8, 2007

I brought my camera this time and a whole load of friends!!!! See the photos here.....

Zeitgeist

August 3, 2007

In case you haven't seen it yet....

http://zeitgeistmovie.com/

Yes, it is long and, yes, it is maddening. But if you give a damn about the future of your family, your security, yourself and even your money, you must watch.

Elder Street Art Night

July 23, 2007

I just took a look at my account on Google video, which should have about 12 videos uploaded and there is NOTHING. How bizarre, especially because the videos still play on this site. Ghosts in the machine. Again.

The Elder Street Art Show was last Saturday night, 41 artists displaying one art work apiece, and all their attendant kin, friends, collectors and party-going mates. It was a blast, even if it was a slight bit hot that evening. But everyone who I know who could come did come. It was a gathering to be remembered.

I got in a little late that evening and didn't get to sleep til around 2am, but it was worth it. Thanks to everyone involved, you all made it a great event.

Ragtime Jazz and Big Band

June 28, 2007

Such a night.  I finally got a free evening to attend a concert'ette at the Cosmos . A friend's mom has been singing there for a few weeks with The Over-the-Hill Gang and I just had to make the gig. I was so glad I did.

Walking in, I really thought a tour bus of the "Gray Line" had just let off a group of passengers - I have not seen so many walkers outside a nursing home. I was stared at in my capri jeans, baby t-shirt and high heeled sandals, but I sidled up to the bar to get comfortable and wait for Mike to arrive.

I realized soon that the old guy sitting next to me had probably been drinking since about noon. I knew the exact moments he would be looking in my direction (I was at about a three-quarter turn from him so he wouldn't talk to me too much) because I could smell the rank of alcohol strongly enough to catch a buzz from it.

Mike and his mom finally arrived. She sang years ago with Dean Martin and her voice is still strong. She gives voice lessons; I'm going to give her a ring to see if I could take a couple of them.

The Over-the-Hill Gang. WHAT A GROUP OF LOVELY GUYS!!! Ranging in age from just under 70 to 96 (the Banjo-player) they were gentlement, fine musicians and fun folk. Curly on the drums had just cut his long locks off in favor of a summer style, Mike from England was on the piano, Harold seemed to be the band leader with his clarinet. There was a trumpet player, a trombone player, and a bass guitar man. They played Dixie Land jazz, Big Band and old torch song hits from back in the day.

Mike's mom sang Bill Bailey (won't you come home) and he sang Don't Get Around Much Anymore. They both have such nices voices.

I was quite impressed. Needless to say, I will be back for more.

Happy Mother's Day, Mom

May, 2007

I asked a few friends to send me a memory of their Mother for Mothers Day and here are a few stories I received.....

~~~

A Mothers' Day Memory from my friend Andrea...

My mom passed away 19 years ago. But I had a special thought of her today when I remembered an incident when I was in the first or second grade.

We had made corsages in school for our moms out of carnations we made from kleenex tissues. When I got off the bus, I dropped my corsage and it landed in a puddle of water. I was heartbroken and ran home crying. I didn’t want to tell my mom what happened because the corsage was suppose to be a surprise. After she calmed me down and dried my tears, and gave me a few hugs, she convinced me tell her what happened. We walked back to the bus stop where she retrieved the damp corsage from the puddle. She then made a big fuss over how beautiful it was and how much she loved it. We walked home hand-in-hand, she dried and fluffed the corsage, and being the great mom she was -- she actually wore that wilted corsage in public on Mother’s day.

~~~

From another friend who was explaining why it was difficult to think of a good story to tell. She said she would get back to me then went on about their innate conflicts.  Without her realizing it, she had written the best story, leaving me to weep...

My mom and I didn't get along very well in the teenage years. The cute years were, of course, before I discovered I had a voice and a brain and could still be controlled. She'll be gone 2 years July 13. I remember looking at her, while putting her to bed one nite before she passed, and telling her how sorry I was. That particular sorry encompassed my wrongs, her disease and just everything under the sun. She said,"Me too."

~~~ 

A story about my own mom...

When I was young and my parents were going through a divorce, every weekend brought a wave of sadness because I and my sister had to leave first one parent to visit the other, then the other parent to go back home. After some time I showed signs of depression and my parents felt I wasn't getting any quality time out of either of them. My mom, perhaps detecting my depression, decided to pick me up (without my sister) and take me to her place for the night. Just the two of us. We walked to the storeto get a couple of pints of fabulous ice cream, a package or two of cookies, then went back to indulge in a decadent evening of sugar and TV. I remember enjoying for the first time Tin Roof ice cream while we watched Night Gallery. That simple evening proved to me a life lesson - that the smallest attention to a child can change their life for the better.

~~~

A very cute story from my sister...

One night, when I was about 8 years old, mom gathered the family - my dad & sister and I - at the dinner table. She had a different kind of dinner for us. I remember being so impressed and thinking my mom was the coolest thing ever. Looking back, the dinner was peanut butter and grape jelly sandwiches cut into quarter triangles and multiples stacked pretty on a plate. It was probably 8 points of PB&J. And then she had cut up bananas and grapes in the middle of the pretty sun shape of sandwiches. As a mom I think how simple, and even maybe easier for her, this dinner was. But as a child - that was the coolest thing ever.

~~~

A real tear-jerker from my friend Robin...

After 45 wonderful and sometimes tumultuous years of being her daughter, I'm very close to my 73 year old Mom and have far too many precious stories to share. But, the story that stands out most in my mind is when I became a Mother myself. After 13 difficult hours of induced labor and undiagnosed placenta accreta, I delivered my first child via emergency C-section. I went into respiratory arrest and my blood pressure dropped to a dangerous level. My daughter was a "blue baby" and unresponsive. She was immeditately put on life support. It was a critical situation, with both my new born daughter and myself spending three days in intensive care units. On the third night of my newborn's life, I was finally recovered enough to see my baby. My Mom went with me to the neo-natal unit where I saw my daughter for the very first time. She was hooked up to so many machines and had tubes coming out of her head, nose, and mouth. I crumbled and grabbed my Mom's hand as I struggled to understand what the nurse was telling me about my baby. The nurse assured me that my baby was doing well and would be going home with me soon. Then, she picked up my baby and put her in my arms for the first time. Overwhelmed with emotion, I began to cry uncontrollably. I looked at this beautiful baby struggling for life and then looked at my Mom, who had tears streaming down her own face. I said, "Momma, how do I take care of her?" She kissed her new grand-daughter softly on the cheek, turned to me, put her hand on my cheek, smiled and said, "With all the love in your heart." I understood then that all of the memories, both good and bad that I had shared with my Mom while I was growing up were clearly defined by one thing. My Momma's unconditional love.

~~~

And last, but certainly the most important, a response from my own mother...

When Lacey and I, her mom, first got into computers, I bought a couple of computer problem solving mystery games, Myst and Lighthouse.  This was in approximately 1997-1998.  I think Lacey completed all of the problem solving in both games but I never did. Actually I still have those programs but don't have the time to attempt to install or play either one.   On the Lighthouse program, there was an answering machine that was one of the clues.  You had to click on it and listen to the message.  The first message which came up was something to the effect of "hello dear, this is your mother."  Both of us always got such a kick out of those words.. the woman's voice sounds as if she is a little old jewish lady with a characteristic whiney voice, and Lacey could mimic her voice perfectly (she's so talented!).  That's a memory that just the two of us share.  Earlier, in Lacey's blog, I read the postings by each of my two girls and I am so proud they have those memories.  I just wish I could remember those things too... the peanut butter & jelly sandwiches and the Lacey and Mom Only night, and a hundred other things that fall in that big black hole.  Unfortunately, I think so many of my memories of those years were destroyed by my pain of losing them and my physical separation from them when their dad moved them to Houston.  Most of my stronger and clearer memories of them go all the way back to their toddler and pre-school years.  Crystal was the neatest little kid.  She was thin and wirey.  Blonde and very light skin (her dad's side).  She was an entertainer and did so all the time!  When she was about 1-1/2 or 2 years old, there was a particular way she would walk, bent over at the waist, that we named "Groucho" and she would perform her "Groucho" on request... any request.. sometimes without a request.  When I was pregnant with Lacey, right before my due date, I bought a doll for Crystal... strategy of course, probably straight out of Dr. Spock.  The plan was to give it to Crystal when we brought the baby home.  We did and she loved it.  But soon thereafter, Crystal got hold of a jar of vaseline and completely covered that doll with it. I never quite understood what action she was mimicking.  I can't remember if I was able to get the vaseline out or not.  I have vague memories of placing that doll in the bathtub.  Perhaps I decided it was hopeless and I would just drown it.  There was another time, in the same house in Irving, when I walked into the kitchen, and both girls were covered with flour.  Their bodies, their hair, flour was everywhere.  Ironically, they were well behaved children up until they reached their teens... messy rooms were the worse. 

One of my most horrible memories happened when Lacey was about 4 years old and we had gone to my mom and dad's house in Irving.  I don't remember where the bicycles came from - they certainly were not my parents (funny how the mind can get caught up in such a little detail... where did those danged bikes come from?).  I rode one bicycle and my brother's girlfriend rode the other.  Lacey wanted to ride and stupid me, I placed her on the rear fender of the bike and off we went.. she was wearing a pair of light weight sneakers.  Those were days long before helmets and other safety devices.  We were one street over, riding very fast, and all of a sudden, my bike came to a halt.  Lacey's foot had gotten tangled up in the rear spokes and actually stopped the bicycle.  I'm sure she must have started screaming and when I got off the bike and grabbed her, I saw that all of the skin and tissue on half of the top of her foot down to her ankle was gone.  That's when I started screaming and could not stop.  I thought I had maimed my little girl.  So there we were, both screaming our heads off, sitting on a residential street curb.  My brother's girlfriend rode back and got my husband to bring the car.  We immediately took her to the emergency room at the hospital (very little blood or are my memories being kind to me?).  Luckily no bones were broken; however, there wasn't anything the docs could do for the foot.  It had to heal itself.  There wasn't anything to sew - it was just an open gash.  They gave her a set of crutches which she used for a very short time before she threw them away and refused to use them.  She devised a method of dragging herself around on the floor, keeping the affected foot suspended, and that's how she got around for the next few weeks.  After a while, the site got infected and I remember the doctor telling us that the infection was what he wanted....  now he could give her antibiotics.  Well, it sounded strange then and I think it sounds even more strange now. 

Lacey was a chubby little baby... she weighed just under 9 lbs at birth, gorgeous of course, not quite as blonde as was Crystal and Lacey's skin was darker in color than Crystal's and Lacey had the most adorable ears.  Lacey was always so independent (i.e., the crutches).  Crystal seemed to always carry a particular mischievious look on her face and frankly, was a little bossy.  Both of my girls were and continue to be gorgeous, both are intelligent and talented and are loving women.  In their early adulthood, at the appropriate time for each one, we were able to mend bridges and form deep ties.  I love and respect each one and wish we could do all those years over again - I would do them differently.  Mama Diane

Thank you, mom. You're the greatest. All my love to you.

World Music

May 5, 2007

Last night was the first (annual?) KPFT World Music Concert and was held at the Artery. I got there a little late; I was told to show up around sundown with my camera so that we could set it up backstage but the venue had begun an hour or so earlier and was already nder way. so I waited until a Pakistani flutist (flautist; they're both in the dictionary) did his set, then a movie was shown about what it is like for a little boy to come to a strange country, not knowing the language, learning to incorporate himself into a new life.

The Pakistani flutist played an instrument whose origin had been traced back to the times of the Pharoahs. As he played, his daughter and neice and some guy came on stage and danced their traditional, very complex costomary dance. It looked quite like River Dance, with a line dance theme and a lot of squats. Their legs must be in terrific shape. I would have liked his music better if he hadn't used a percussion machine, but it did lend itself to a couple of his tunes.

After his set Mark set up the camera in back, then an Iranian "band" came onstage with their country's traditional instruments. The sound had a beautiful clarity to it, ancient riffs played with the modernization of an electric keyboard (and mics, of course.) After their set a more eastern group (India?) came to play their traditional instruments, a more familiar sound and feel, with the sitar and harmonium in tow.

It was a beautiful evening that was not to be missed.

Food Safety Records and Poisonings

I have nothing against the Chinese people; I think they're doing a swell job of exploding onto the global market as best as they know how. But I DO have an enormous problem with the Chinese government. They have lousy, lax safety regulations and are appearing to not give a damn about people. They seem to only be concerned with the bottom line - the money - and it is causing extreme trauma and fatalities all over the globe.

Poisonings - diethylene glycol

5/6/07 - From China to Panama, a Trail of Poisoned Medicine
http://www.nytimes.com/2007/05/06/world/americas
/06poison.html?ex=1336190400&en=bb1e413622490327
&ei=5124&partner=permalink&exprod=permalink

5/6/07 - Mass poisonings tied to toxic syrup
http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/nationworld
/2003695413_syrup06.html

4/29/07 - 100 die of diethylene glycol poisoning in Panama
http://news.xinhuanet.com/english/2007-04/29/
content_6044072.htm

3/21/07 - FDA Import Alert for diethylene glycol
http://www.fda.gov/ora/fiars/ora_import_ia5502.html

10/15/06 - A Killer in a Medicine Bottle Shakes Faith in Government
http://www.nytimes.com/2006/10/16/world/americas/
16panama.html?ex=1318651200&en=f7da1d1a6fb04fe4&ei=5088...

8/2/96 - Fatalities Associated with Ingestion of Diethylene Glycol-Contaminated Glycerin Used to Manufacture Acetaminophen Syrup -- Haiti, November 1995-June 1996 (so its happened before....)
http://www.cdc.gov/mmwr/preview/mmwrhtml/00043194.htm

April 30, 2007

According to the New York Times: " The pet food case is also putting China’s agricultural exports under greater scrutiny because the country has had a terrible food safety record.
In recent years, for instance, China’s food safety scandals have involved everything from fake baby milk formulas and soy sauce made from human hair to instances where cuttlefish were soaked in calligraphy ink to improve their color and eels were fed contraceptive pills to make them grow long and slim."
(I hope the previous statement was a rumor...)

There was a woman here in the states who, for a year, tried not to buy anything from China for a year. With a husband and two children she found it very, very difficult and had to just give up on some things because of the prevalence of Chinese products in our system. Due to their disgusting practices such as those listed above, along with a record of complete disregard to human rights and simple decency, I am going to begin a personal campaign to boycott Chinese "goods" as well. Wish me luck. I'm gonna need it.

More on nasty imported food: http://www.nytimes.com/2007/05/01/business/01food.html?pagewanted=1&_r=1&en=ede&ex=1335758400

 

My Word

April 29, 2007

Word of the Week: mensch - (Yiddish) A person having admirable characteristics, such as fortitude and firmness of purpose.
In all my days I never expected to have such a collection of mensch in my midst.

Hence, I go blessed.

Business Time

April 24, 2007

Irresponsibility

April 20, 2007

Nice job, NBC and MSNBC. So you fire a guy, Don Imus, blew him off the airwaves for blurting out some banal comment about women on a basketball team rather than simply ousting him for a few weeks without pay, then you turn around this week and broadcast both video and photos of a raving madman.

You have now set the stage for all sorts of people to one-up the killer. Don Imus was an idiot for saying what he did. I am not a fan nor do I approve of displays of bigotry and racism, but it was one stupid comment made on the spur of the moment. You had time, NBC, to mull over the implications and possibilities of airing a dead murderer's self-aggrandizement, knowing he was disjointed and insane, knowing what he had done to so many innocent people and many other victims and survivors of that horrific tragedy.

You not only salted the wound, you dug around in it and ripped open the pain to unbearable extremes. What good did you think would come of this? I know that the FBI have files that no one has ever seen - they're good at hiding things; why would it have been so difficult to hand over every single piece of garbage that this monster sent to you, NOT making copies that could be leaked, NOT allowing your illustrious staff to handle the venom that came your way? But you didn't have the forethought to do this. You, perhaps, were seeking your own aggrandizement via this demented kid, or thinking you were doing someone somewhere a favor... but what you held in your hands didn't answer any questions and you knew this. You knew it wouldn't tell people why it happened, why they (we) lost so much in those hours of terror last Monday, but you just had to honor, even glorify, this fool's wishes.

He made a damned fool of us all and you, NBC and MSNBC, are King Idiot.

Punk Lives On

April 14, 2007

Punk rock is somewhat alive, or at least still breathing, in Texas. I was in on a video shoot at the Artery tonight of The Hates. Quite a nice trio of lads. Older lads, anyway. The drummer looked about 35 or so and he was the youngest. I'm not into punk at all, never was, but I must admit they did a nice set of Rockabilly that I liked. I hope I got some good video for Mark to use in his pieces. I'm working at becoming a better camera-person. Cameradyte. I just made that up. I googled it and it doesn't exist online. Yet. How about, from this point forward, cameradyte describes anyone holding the camera, video or otherwise, while shooting photos or video. A cameradyte. You can quote me on that. Don't bother - I'll just quote myself. Champagne is good for making up your own words. If you can't think of any, give me a shout. I'll think up plenty.

Back in college I used to include a glossary of new phrases and words that I had to make up to describe what I was talking about, like "carpegenesis" - to seize your initiation into this world (like going back to the womb and reliving the birth experience) and "ecocide" (which is now a word but wasn't then) - to annihilate the environment for one's own gain.

Back to work. I'll provide some still shots when I download them from my camera.

Opossum Kingdom

April 11 , 2007

For hours the dogs next door were barking. I've gotten used to it over the last couple of years since the nayber moved in. She's never home so she doesn't teach them when its okay to bark and when its not. So they do it incessantly. I've learned to ignore it. But today it was beautiful outside and I wanted to enjoy a cup of coffee with the girls and have a little peace. We went outside and the barking continued (it'd been going on for about 3 hours at this point.) I banged on the fence and shushed them. They stopped for a moment, then continued. I looked through the slats in the fence and realized they were barking at something sitting on the top of the back fence.

I got my ladder and peered over my side of the fence and saw that it was an opossum. A opossum (what IS the correct grammar here?) This poor opossum was sitting on this fence trying to figure out what was going on. It must have been there all those hours, perhaps waiting for the dogs to go away so it could go back to its little home somewhere. I feared it was rabid because, as all opossums do, it looked a bit ill. I called animal control and they said they wouldn't even come out unless I trapped it first (what the living hell do we pay you guys for, if not to protect us from wild rabid animals? )

So we were on our own. I couldn't find my wild animal trap so I waited. All in all this poor animal was on the fence for at least 4 hours. It finally found a way down and away from the danger of the dogs while I wasn't looking. Say a little prayer for the opossum. The Opossum Prayer.

Poor, confused, blind, scared, sleepy little thing......

Damn dogs.

 

Let There Be Music

March 31, 2007

I'm a little late on the uptake, but wanted to write a bit about last Thursday night's fare. I was called in to be "fourth camera" on a shoot at the Artery. The music line-up was simple: Ricardo played first, then Constant Billy. I had seen Constant Billy before at the Artery, but there was an added element being asked to actually get some video of them. I'm still hoping they're able to use what I taped. Ricardo was new to me. His guitar playing has been described as Spanish Jazz Fusion (I believe he said) and it was mesmerizing.

The night was perfect, a soft breeze blowing in from the trees, the moon just above us and almost full, the mosquitos feasting comfortably as usual. Ricardo and his music were perfect for the night's opening. A little break after the seriousness of his playing, then Constant Billy. This is a duet of husband and wife, he on the string instruments and vocal, she on wind instruments and vocal. She has quite a lovely voice, perfect for their choice of Celtic, Northern European music brought back from the dust of the past.

Be sure to check out the Artery's schedule for upcoming events. Spring promises to be the season for great music and interesting outings for those wanting something a little different. Also please check out Ricardo and Constant Billy on their websites. Fantastic stuff.

Friday night was Van Gogh's birthday bash at Tryst, Mind Puddle's version of the nayberhud coffee / munchies bar. All the usual suspects were in attendance: Rick (co-coordinator with Navid), Dave, Mark, Mike, Renee and her guy, Dion and his gal, Tom, and even Marie made an appearance (I hadn't seen her in forever.) A nice time was had by all and the munchies were actually quite delicious. Thank you Navid. Nice party. I just wish I'd brought my extra ear to give to Vincent for his birthday.

A Different Day

March 19, 2007

Today my friend lost one of her beloved horses. He was her little big boy. He was a magnificent creature, majestic and tall, ruddy orange and so tender and sweet.

I thought I was okay, tooling along after 14+ very long days of consecutive web work, then these couple of things hit me pretty hard. First I got an email from the ASPCA asking all of us to sign a letter to be sent to our representatives that would strengthen the wording used in laws and ordinances that are to protect animals and prosecute the creeps who abuse them. I clicked on and the site listed several examples of abuse that went unpunished. It was shocking. I won't go into it here, cannot go into it here. I forwarded the email to my animal-loving friends to sign the letter and told them that it was very difficult to read, and to skip over that part if they needed to.

If you are interested in making a difference, please click here to participate in embolding the legislation.

I couldn't take it with my exhaustion. I went to lay down for a few minutes, to try and shake off the thoughts and the pain, and the phone rang. I answered, it was my dear, dear friend telling me that her lovely boy had died this weekend. I know I wasn't much comfort, but I did my best. I just couldn't believe it. He was so healthy, stunningly beautiful, strong the last time I saw him. Now he is gone and they are preparing the ground for him.

It was the old one-two punch. I was down for the count, but there was no time to really go down because of all the work that still lie ahead of me. I went outside for a few minutes to thank God for such a beautiful life and the blessing, the honor of having known such an angel of an animal. I watched the bats fly in the dimming twilight. I cried. I had to. It was such a release. I haven't really stopped, but I have found dry spots where I could finish some work. I wanted to paint tonight, just put a layer on the tree painting I'd started a couple of months ago that I've all but abandoned, but the office -someone IN the office -just took the wind out of my sad little floppy sails yet again. Suddenly I felt very alone in all the work and all the sadness and I just couldn't take the chance on ruining a beautiful painting.

I don't feel like it would be good to call my friend and bring up her loss yet again. I've got to let her grieve, and I've got to get over my own sadness at such an incredible soul being taken so quickly, as well as the thought of all those sweet little babies having been hurt so bad. We will all be okay someday.

He was her towering and handsome boy. He was her little big boy.

Smooth Sails

March 15, 2007

I'm about to publish/deliver a website to another lawyer client. It is almost finished, awaiting their proofing and a few more files. It has been one of the worst experiences of my career but we're all surviving. Great people, not too web savvy. A lot of work in a week and a half. Oh, they had 8 long months to get me all they had, but we've actually done the bulk of it in these 1-1/2 weeks. I learned a lot, even during those 8 months with little communication -- I've changed my contract/proposal to protect my own interests and very precious time. Now that its about over with, I'm going to change it yet again to include a few more snippets of protection. My price for a base site, considering I had erroneously charged them a "friend" price, has gone up about 500% since then. Little to do with them, but ethically I didn't feel it fair to charge them the new price to get this done. Live and learn. And back to work.

The Storm

March 6, 2007

After clearing my slate (not) of all the pending tasks, I've begun intensive work on the new sites I've been taking on lately. In popular fashion, I must beg to get what is crucial for the development of the sites and even then it doesn't seem to be clear as to what I need (not you, Kim! You've been great about doing what's needed. But everyone else: take notes....) I've only had one client in my entire web career who gave me everything I needed upfront and as I asked for it, everything that made his site the best it could be, keeping his rankings high and the clicks many. It is never easy, but it should never be this difficult.

I'm also learning Dreamweaver after being a GoLive girl for 6 years. I will undoubtedly like it better once I get used to it. I'm fairly adept at learning software on my own but a class sure would be swell. I'm also learning Premier Pro (video editing) and Audition (audio editing.) Those came easy. I do need to upload the videos I've created for your viewing pleasure.

I've been fighting a nasty case of bronchitis, brought on by severe allergies from tree pollen, which is through the roof. Once something settles in my lungs, its hell getting it to move out. Mucinex. That's my cure-all. I can't take the D form; any type of decongestant aggravates the tissue and can cause the polyps to develop. Who needs that. I take my vitamins, I eat really well - all the "right" stuff - and I still have nagging illnesses. Gosh Lace, ya think it could be something else?

Louise L. Hay comes out with these wonderful big and little books that have cross-referencing for illnesses in the body. For example, I look up lungs or pulmonary, and it tells me what's eating me on a metaphysical basis. Hang on..... Lung: The ability to take in life. So chronic problems with the lungs would be a fear of taking in life, and as it says here depression, grief, not feeling worthy of living life fully. Hmmmmm. That's not me. I'm looking up Pneumonia..... Desperate. Tired of life. Emotional wounds that are not allowed to heal. Maybe a bit closer, but it doesn't say exactly what. 'Guess I'll meditate on that.
It could be equivalent to dredging up the bottom of Galveston Bay....

Then again, I have been wanting to hermit but my wonderful and loving friends just won't have it. Maybe its a sort of opposition that I'm fighting, that I vant to be alone, but my friends (God I love them so) want me to play. And play I do, way too much. I need to paint. I need to heal. I really do vant to be alone.

I have the most wonderful life, filled with extraordinary people who sure seem to love me almost as much as I love them. How'd I get so lucky?

 

The Calm

February 19, 2007

What now. Not a question. I've been offline for many days, several of which were spent in Dallas. I have been through some stuff. Its been the best of funny; its been the worst of funny. I got a new car. I have new websites to work on. I got a new attitude. I've been led through the gamut. I have survived. But big deal. Survival in something as this is easy. I'm surprised at my ease. I'm glad for my ease.

I've been meditating. It has been a tremendous exercise in discipline, in commitment. I find it fascinating that the easiest thing in the world - not to think - is the most difficult. The "monkey mind" is becoming the norm as serenity is becoming most impossible. When will we make it our priority?

I love image.

I am becoming a videographer.

I would like to become a film-maker.

Oh, what kind of car?... a Ford Escape Hybrid. Of all the hybrids on the market, this one is the sexiest. It is the finest. It is the best. I have finally reached the point in my life that I deserve the best I can afford while not worrying about what is to come. I have the highest credit rating of anyone I know; my car dealer said that I have the highest credit rating of anyone he's ever seen come across his desk...

a feat to behold...

So I have responsibilities. always have.

I wasn't kidding about the video, about the film.

I am good. I am gifted. I have some talent here. I have resources. I want to make movies.

Call me. Email me. It is time.

A childhood memory.... I remember walking home from elementary school one day, several days, with this girl I was in school with. We must have been 10 or 11. We passed by these apartments everyday and there was a woman, an Asian woman, who sold electronic toys. This was in the early to mid-seventies. My girlfriend was very tall (compared to me, everyone was tall) and she was very outspoken. We always wanted to go into the woman's tiny apartment to see what she had that day. This woman always had these wonderful, different, intelligent toys, the predecessors of our present-day computerized toys...

Look how its all culminated into this point in time. The Japanese having their centuries of culture, then being invaded by the West. The Germans having their illuminated knowlege, then our "scholars" doing their deeds upon the traditions. The Africans... Oh, the Africans. God how their culture may have prospered and grown into a magnificent entity. But we did our best to ensure that would never even come to light. Where do you think the term "Timbuktoo" came from? It was an African nation university. They taught their best, their finest, everything they knew.

Its late. I have to go now.

The Gift of a Night

January 31, 2007

In typical fashion of how my life seems to go, last night was extraordinary. I was to accompany my friend Pattie to a dinner, then was told later what that dinner was really all about. I don't read the papers and am not linked with Rice University or the Mayor's office, but I believe these three had converged to create an evening for Houston that would serve as a model for the rest of the nation.

All over the city, several hundred people went to different private homes for a dinner.

These were people of different cultures and religions and disciplines, all coming together for good food, great company and a facilitated discussion of their faith. From what I know now, the idea came from a book called The Amazing Faith of Texas, Common Ground on Higher Ground. It seems the Mayor and quite a number of people decided to use this book and its accompanying cards to bring people together over a dinner with "strangers" who would become friends.

Most of you who know me know that I am not a religious person at all. Rather, I am highly spiritual. In fact, my sister (who is a Fundamentalist Christian) told me once that I was probably more Christian in action than she was at times. Yeah, probably. Last night at our table, graciously set out by Tory and Tracy with the help of their friend Jean, we had people of so many faiths. Methodist, Catholic, Episcopalian, simply spiritual, and our facilitator (I think his name was David?  correct me if I'm wrong, kids!) had a collar so he was a man of the cloth. See?  If I knew a lick about religion I'd know what he was and wouldn't have to guess at it.

During dinner, he would ask one of us in turn to read one of the cards from the book.  On each card was a photograph and a short story of a person who had found faith through an incident in their life or through some other turn of fate, then the card would pose a question. We were to speak of how the question and the card affected us. What we all discovered was amazing. Each card, randomly selected (the facilitator even mentioned later that he had shuffled them) was ideal for the person reading it. It seemed their experience in life, at that moment in time, was begging that question. Each person shared a very personal and sometimes tragic event or situation that caused them to be able to put their card and question into the circle.

I tried to personalize the other cards, but they just didn't fit me like my card fit. Mine asked how I communicated with God. My answer was, in effect, that communicating with God was like falling off a log. I wake up in the morning and it is immediate. I try creating my own path and God (or the Universe or Fate or the divine intelligence that lives on every level of life) says otherwise. I make decisions for myself like I'm going to be a hermit and paint, and God communicates by setting up a much different situation that leads me into profound experiences like last night, experiences that may very well change my path on a moment to moment basis.

My communication back to God is simply showing up and taking those steps that are laid out in front of me.

Thank you to everyone last night who made the experience possible. I live in constant gratitude for each of those steps that are laid out in front of me, and in gratitude for everything else that has ever been gifted to me. Last night, with all those wonderful people who showed up and shared their triumphs and tragedies, was such a gift.

Sex, Lives, and Video.

January 28, 2007

I spent most of the week and weekend editing audio and video, but realized I need more and better footage. I had gone up to the country to tape Pattie's horses and the results truly are splendid. But they're not good enough. I am already a perfectionist, but I'm also very fast. I got the camera, got the subjects, I'm a perfectionist at editing and I'm fast. Four good assets. Now, if only I could get an entourage, or some employees, staff. Yes, I need STAFF (not the infection. Who would need that?)

I just read a hilarious, very clever little book Wake Up With Fleas by Carla Kienast. Its about a guy who wins a $145 million lotto, but he was robbing the convenience store while he was purchasing the ticket. The author weaves this funny tale around high technology, small business owners, exacting law, get-rich-quick dreams, all those things that make up contemporary life. With as many twists as a bag of pretzels, the story is a great page turner. I finished it in just a couple of nights. I would love to see this one at the movies. Check it out, kids.

I'm heating up my studio so I can finally get in there and work on the new paintings. I have done 3 in the series, finished them to about 80% and have two more drawn in, waiting for my brush to sweep magic across their surface. I will create a world that the viewer can step into, escape into. They are enchanting, provocative, mysterious. In one that I will work on tonight I want the experience of wind blowing. I want to convey the sound and the feel of the wind. I want the viewer to feel the warmth engulf the senses.

I heard the other day that, for every hour of painting, there are about 4 hours of actual work. This is so true and, for the assemblages, the time can be even greater. The assemblages can be easy or very, very difficult. There is a story to tell, as in all art, but there are decisions as to what can be conveyed in two dimensions and what will be three dimentional. And why isn't thought considered yet another dimension?  If time is the fourth dimension, then why isn't thought somewhere after that? Apparently, scientists have discovered up to eleven dimensions. Thought didn't seem to be one of them. Maybe I need to be buckin' for the job of Scientist. That'll be my first paper. Ya gotta write a paper to be a scientist. And a few other things, no doubt.

~~~

If you read the title of this entry and are wondering where the sex is, the suggestion of it is right here in this sentence.

~~~

Hey, if I'd let go of one of my many irons in the fire, perhaps I could finally work on MY site for a change. If I did, I would create a Word of the Week quip. I had a few comments on my word "aver" and I like the way you people think. Hell, I like the way I think when I actually do it. Let me start.....

The word for this week is: Metier.
Used in a sentence: I perform many tasks, have many interests, but for now web design is my metier.
Or betta -- Hey Man! That ain't my metier!!

I wouldn't call it "lazy"...

January 15, 2007

Because I cannot journal, email, write a book AND update my blog all at the same time without sounding trivial, I decided to put some of my emails and responses into my blog.

Get ready.

my girlfriend said: (after telling her I'd fallen off a ladder and she'd fallen and broke her toe the very next day...)

You fell, I fell...helluva good time for all of us. Are you okay now? Are you going to be one of those old ladies that does weird shit when you are home by yourself and one day I have to send an investigation team to recover your dead ass?

so I said:

Naaaaaaa, my cats will probably eat me long before you could send out a posse. That's why I keep 'em around. Save on funeral costs.

Hey, did you know that cremation carbon can now be made into beautiful gems for the survivors of loved ones to wear about their necks, ears and fingers? Neato. I'd like to come back as a cinnamon diamond.

On second thought, do send out a posse to come and claim my dead ass. Burn me good then send me to one of those diamond-making places to get yourself a NICE gem outa the deal. Its the least I can do for you saving me from my cats' digestive systems.

then I said to another girlfriend later, as I was relaying a story to her:

I'm actually serious about the cremation carbon thing. Saw it on Good Morning America. Dead peeps and diamonds (well, gems anyway, but dead peeps and diamonds has a nice ring to it.)

~~~

per an answer to a friend's email:

So please send [her] page that she has her articles on. I would greatly appreciate that. It would help a bunch. I'm surprised you hadn't done that sooner. What's wrong with you.

As for collars, I have one for every cat, but the baby doesn't wear one because she hates them. Badly. I will try putting one on her again for her own protection. Make sure [your cat] gets used to it at home before wandering out in the wild -- they are very very very very very very good at ejecting them. When they do that, you lose the rabies tag. That always sucks.

Scala is NOT up to date on her shots because she will NOT get into a cat cart. Therefore, her collar tag isn't up to date. She's the one that will probably eat a squirrel, so I need to get her updated. The vet said to put her into a pillow case.

yeah, right.

... more to come...

PS: why the hell did Elizabeth 1, Queen of England, always look like she was going thru chemo? I guess I should've watched the whole PBS program. I'll check the listings. Desperate Housewives trumped the Queen. Email me if you know these things.

They played a little divet of a song Sting did on his recent Medival Madrigal album, Songs from the Labyrinth. I have it. It is grand.

...to drink, to taste, to dine...

Oh, and the word of the week: aver. Use it in a sentence: I aver the Queen looked rode hard and put up wet.

How'my doin'??

Nectar of Life

January 12, 2007

This is something we all know, and some of us practice, but it certainly bears repeating. I am writing about this because I have found that my water intake is sadly lacking. Back in the day, when I was working out with a trainer, I think I got my quota of ounces, which is body weight multiplied by .55 -- this is how many ounces we should drink in any given day. Not tea, not juice, and your pot of coffee doesn't count.

Water. 64 +/- oz. of water every single day.

Try this little experiment: Set out 4 or 8 cups of water in the morning. If you use 4, like I do, plan on refilling them by your midday. You can also use 2 half liter bottles or 1 liter bottle of water, then drink the entire thing in a day. The best way to absorb water is to drink 4 oz every half hour, rather than gulping 6 or 8 oz at a time. I have been setting out my 4 cups of water, exactly the same size and amount (8 - 10 oz), to refill all four at about midday, right? If I drink them all by the time I go to bed, then that would be 8 "glasses" of water a day (each of these is actually about 10 oz, which means if I skip ONE, then I'm still okay.) I haven’t refilled them, but plan on it today and every other day of my life.

Well, I finish off about 4 of my water cups by the time I go to bed. And that's forcing it. Really. Some of you who are reading this LOVE water and get enough. Bravo!! It’s not that I don't like it, but I just don't think about drinking it often enough. Also, the more we drink the more we crave which is GREAT because it means we will seek it out like a divining rod.

A very, very good reason for drinking all this water is that it helps us to lose weight. Even better, it flushes out toxins while it lubricates our joints, spine, muscles, intestines, even reproductive systems. It also plumps up the skin on the face and neck, smoothing out wrinkles and “valleys” (as my nephew had referred to them on my own self before he was old enough to know better.) Yep, it is definitely a cure-all and it does work, if only we let it.

So force it I will, and I wanted to share all of that to remind you to drink more water, no matter how much you're already drinking. I’m doubling up on my intake.

Post Holiday and New Year Note: to any of you whom I haven't returned a phone call to, my apologies but there are reasons. Think about it. It will probably be very apparent.

Happy New Year!

January 3, 2007

And a fresh page for you to paint your life upon. May this be the best year of your life.

'007

Double0Seven. Ya can't go wrong with that.

Whipping Into High Gear

December 27, 2006

Here we go! Just like last year it is work work work right after the holiday break. I went up to school yesterday to work on the bronze torso -- yes, that is STILL hanging around my neck -- but the school was closed. The one day that I had to work on it and I couldn't, so I came back here and worked on our pharmaceutical pages instead. Worked. I was told later on that "we" had the day off. Oh. Well I was already knee deep into the tasks so I trudged onward.

I will be teaching myself all about videography over the next couple of weeks while catching up on websites, pulling out of galleries, and beginning a new set of paintings and art that will represent me in the public. I've got my work cut out for me. I'm just looking for the time to finally start that book.

It was a quiet Holiday for me and I needed it. It was the respite I gave to myself, my gift to me, that will hopefully usher me calm and rested into the new year. From what I have heard, it will be a helluva year at the firm. I am rather looking forward to that.

I used most of the time to reorganize my main space - I painted my living room. I had begun painting my bathroom but need to get a little darker with it. I get this color that, when it was painted on the walls, looks white. All that work and its like a white with a twist of lemon/lime. But the living room looks fantastic and I'm both hanging as-yet-unseen art as well as creating new art to exhibit. I needed a change and the living room needed a new look.

It gives me the impetus to get a maid. At last. Why not?   We outsourceo our food, our clothing (yeah, how many of YOU make your own clothes??) our utilities, our education, our vehicle maintenance.... why not our cleanliness.
After all, I'll feel so much more Godly.