Dung Paper Hearts

So!  Grandsons gave me some note papers made out of elephant dung many years ago, a whole boxful.  They're in the shape of hearts and so I kept the box in tact not using a one for probably 10 years.  I think Zak was about 5 and Levi about 3.  They thought it was so funny to give Nana some elephant dung, and also that they were hearts was the "loving" part of the gift...my interpretation as a loving nana in the world of nanas as only another nana would understand.

I kept this box of wonderfulness always on my desk where I keep my computer, iPad, iPhone all my important stuff that I use everyday so that I could see it all the time and smile and remember the wonderful feeling I had when these boys presented me with this gift.  I actually would realize that feeling every time I would see it.

Finally a few months ago, I opened the box and used one of the pieces of paper.  It's kinda scratchy but smooth in pinks, purples, and a beige.  When one writes on it, one gets a feeling of really writing on almost a fiber like surface...not smooth and boring like regular paper.  Then if one writes something on it that one needs to remember for a while, one can have the heart just looking at them until it is not needed anymore.  One can also stack these precious pieces of paper on her desk and go through them when the need arises for the information written on them, or when one just wants to feel love.

I have only used about a third of the box of note papers, and am so excited  when I think about still being able to enjoy them for some time to come.

Yay!

Think tomorrow.

Almost the end of September and have I quit feeling sorry for myself yet?  Mebbe, mebbe not!  Yeah been feeling sorry for myself, can't paint worth a darn and don't know what my purpose for being on this earth is yet.  It's not to paint a masterpiece, write a bestseller or be famous!  I always thought I would be one of those...but I didn't do the work.  I never bothered to go to college, wasn't urged by parents though how long can that be my excuse?  Guess it has been my excuse up until now, now I am finding that I just did not want to put in the time and energy for school.  I wanted to live in the moment which was so fun at the time, and I was a part of all of it...except the school, serious part.

I am not really sorry about my life, I am happy that I have done really everything I ever wanted, thought of, was told about, read about and I feel that I am one of the consciously aware of human power. I know what I can do in the world, with whom I can connect and with whom I am connected with on an ongoing basis.  Maybe I wouldn't have achieved that if I had taken time for book learning'.

Still don't know my purpose.  Think about it again tomorrow.

I WON'T be led by the nose!

I am so tired of being led by the nose by the political TV shows and pundits.  Why aren't all the American people?  Maybe it's just me in my household that is sooooo frustrated by the opinions of the Bill O'Reillys and Keith Obermanns of the world.  Is this happening in other homes or just mine?

I see the people in Missouri demonstrating, picketing, and looting over the killing of a black kid by a white cop.  I hear the pundits and people who have a mic before them spewing their opinions of the incident, then I see everyday people breaking in to businesses in the area.  Now what is that about?  The kid that was killed?  The cop that killed him?  The liquor store that was robbed before the kid was killed?  How does this human behavior fix the problem, make whites love blacks and/or blacks love whites, or expedite the investigation into the situation so that blame can be placed where it needs to be placed?  

And why do we sit in front of our television set and listen to the hogwash that is fed to us?  One network is spewing a liberal opinion, another spews the conservative view.  Is there no where to get news, just news without somebody sticking a hook into our noses to lead us around the mule track?

I say no there is not, not in this immediate news society.  I am not watching it, I am saying right here and now if the rhetoric is going on in the television set in my house-- I am retreating to my art room or going to leave this house.  I need peace, and I will get it.

Gardening Grandma that Paints

Talk about cutting back?  I have cut back from all outside sources of deadlines except for facials and hair stylist appointments.  It became a chore to paint for the gallery, a chore to have to leave the house to go to the gallery, a chore to volunteer my time, a chore to go to meetings.  Once I got to all of these places it was wonderful:  painting at the gallery while working, showing and talking about art, finding out about trips and wonderful things that clubs do, what could be better?  BUT once I became unhappy about walking into my art room to create, I knew that it was time to get back to basics.

The Gardening Grandma that Paints is really who I am at my core.   GGtP enjoys being with her children, grandchildren and husband most of all in the world, just a meal together with conversation, or maybe a movie that everybody enjoys, we all went bowling once and that's a favorite memory.  Second a GGtP cooking in her kitchen for a special occasion is probably my second most favorite thing.  I love to plan the meal, get to a farmers market for fresh ingredients and then cook for hours in my kitchen listening to the music that I love.  Even if it's just Papa and me for dinner, I really can be in my zone with this process.  Oh! and third is gardening and that includes the planning of a nice arrangement in the yard all the way to the actual digging in the dirt.  Of course planning includes a few trips to a favorite nursery to see what Scott has created, and then having lunch in the Conservatory with my best escort, Jack.   Probably down the line in 4th place is shopping for this GGtP but only when she has money to spend (window shopping never my thing), and it's always fun to have a grandkid or two along on which to spend that money.

So!  I haven't been in my art room to paint in a couple months now.  Even drawing hasn't been appetizing...however, I woke up this morning with a fresh mind and with a little of my joy back.  Did a little drawing out in the back yard.

Maybe I'll begin a small painting...maybe...Bobbie, breathe...1,2,3,4 hold, breathe...okay just a maybe for now.

Manipulating Ways

If one's life is never revealing who one truly is, then is there a perception that others that are truthful in their relationships are manipulating?

I keep thinking back to when a family member advised me that another family member had told her that I was master manipulating my husband.  I wasn't insulted or even upset by the comment (maybe at first for a few solitary minutes) because I had been called that at another time in a written letter which I still possess.  I stood back or close, don't remember, and I do remember pondering the comment in my head asking myself, "is that true?"  My answer to the family member was yes, I guess I do manipulate my husband in the way that I negotiate for what I want and need.  And further, he manipulates me right back.  His and my desires and needs are met because we are honest with each other about what those might be, then the negotiation begins as to what we will give up or do for the other person in order for that process to happen.  So yes, we love each other and want happiness for the other person along with ourselves so we are, we are both master manipulating.

I came right home and discussed this in detail with my husband.  I told him of the conversation and how we were being perceived.  He said that I could manipulate him any day of the week.  I told him the same, and retreated to the kitchen to bake his favorite cherry pie.

In the other situation (the letter), I was accused of being a manipulating person in communicating with this woman's son who I felt was in need of a friend to answer his many queries and to just hear him rant.  I never called him, he always called me and always wanted my counsel which I shared at first in a very mild and kind way.  When he didn't understand what I perceived as his faults I began to be more honest in a semi-mild way which was unacceptable to him at which time his mother felt the need to threaten me into no contact with her son which was easy because he no longer called me and when we saw each other we did not speak.  I never responded to dear Mom to inform her of the son's attempt at manipulating me with his phone calls and conversation.  I just knew I had done nothing wrong taking this young man's calls in an effort to ease his pain and at one point advising him to search for professional help (I was in fear that he was depressed enough to hurt himself in some way).     These phone calls often ended with me in tears, torn that I may have been giving bad advice.  Many times I discussed these conversations with Jack in an effort to determine if I had done harm in any way.

I am probably very good at making excuses, or rationalizing and if it's true I can take responsibility for it.  I only know that my truth is what guides me, I am as authentic and honest as I can be at 65 years old.

Now baking a cherry pie for my husband makes him happy for 2 weeks.  In those 2 weeks I see that he has a twinkle in his eye that is not always there at 81 years old, and of course he is nicer and easier to get along with.  Do I do it for the treatment if affords me or for the twinkle?  I let the reader decide.
I know my truth.

Yay! Art Fiestas are fun for the Buyers, not so much for the Vendors

So did the Art Fiesta Festival which I have adored going to since I moved here to NorCal.  My artist friend was a regular of this show and always did well.  On a whim I applied this year and was accepted based on 3 images of my latest landscapes.  This which I am now considering "My last art hurrah" wasn't much of a yay! but instead a kind of a low and uninspiring adieu.

First, I loved so much of the two days... conversing with artists, meeting them and getting to know how they came to their particular expertize, hours of people watching and just kind of enjoying the ambience of the whole show.  Music on Day 1 was loud enough for me to enjoy and was a kind of Cubana salsa type.  I sold a piece, Miller Park, to a wonderful gal...works for DA's office, a homicide attorney with a great haircut asymmetrical short on one side...adorable friendly and energetic young woman.  Coffee from Insight Coffee House was wonderful.  Doing some shopping getting to die for gifts for friends and family.

Now there was stress involved for which I really wasn't prepared; a lot of thinking how to do it, wondering whether or not I would remember everything that I would need while there, hoping SQUARE would work for all of my credit card sales, etc.  At first, I was feeling confident that I could do this on my own, alone and knowing my set up stuff and art would fit in the car, etc. and then not feeling confident at the last moment which I could have been okay with had the air temperature not been upwards of 104 degrees with my 10x10" area being in the sun all day.  AND the one sale I did make was paid for by check so what was all he SQUARE stress about?  I mean really??? LOL

For now I have decided to retire for the second time:  taking a year to put  ME and my family first, a year to enjoy my garden, redecorate my kitchen, and cook some really great meals.

It will also be a good time to get rid of old art that bugs me every time I see it, and discover which direction my painting should take if and when I get back into it.

Yay!

Opting for Change

At my window this Wednesday morning I am having thoughts of cleaning the clutter in my mind.  To do that I must let go of some activities in my life that I still enjoy but are becoming too difficult to maintain.  In reading about the brain I understand that something one enjoys the first time it is done turns on all kinds of lights and whistles in the pleasure zone, subsequent times the activity is accomplished only diminishes that first experience.  I believe once that happens to the point where it becomes rote, one should let go to begin anew.

Change is not something humans enjoy.  The comfort zone is forever awakened from its comfortable and enjoyable sleep to step into new territory thereby allowing for a new brain wave, extension, wire, or whatever we want to call it.  It may seem difficult to the human at first, however one never knows what new lights and whistles will be turned on and there, there is where joy happens I believe.

So, I am keeping my priorities fresh.  I am opting for change.