A space for my creative side. A small art studio tucked away at siesta key, where it is a short walk to one of the prettiest beaches in the world. I share this with another artist. It truly is a haven away from my "other" life.
Wednesday, January 19, 2005
Friday, January 14, 2005
judymarathon
I did it!!! After 8 months of hard work and training, I joined 24,000 other runners as we all ran...one step at a time.
Wednesday, January 05, 2005
Zoe
yes, she does look cute! And she got on the kitchen counter, got a bagel and was sitting innocently on the couch. She thought I wouldn't notice what she was about to bury...later that day, I found the bagel....under my pillow. She is definitely possessed.
In the company of women
I sit, surround by you, Women. Some of you I know, and others I don't. We are joined by the fact we all have body parts named the same. Some of you have lost some of them, a breast, maybe two. Surgeries have removed some of what we have in common.
I am not afraid of you, and for once, I'm not comparing. We are all together, and I can feel the bond, even though I do not know your stories...or your names.
And I look around, and our eyes make contact, and I sigh. "Where have you been my whole life? Have I not noticed? Have I not cared? I crave being with you. I long for shared stories, of rebirth. of struggles and triumph.
we are in each others company. we are each other.
and for that I sigh a big - - - - - y e s
I am not afraid of you, and for once, I'm not comparing. We are all together, and I can feel the bond, even though I do not know your stories...or your names.
And I look around, and our eyes make contact, and I sigh. "Where have you been my whole life? Have I not noticed? Have I not cared? I crave being with you. I long for shared stories, of rebirth. of struggles and triumph.
we are in each others company. we are each other.
and for that I sigh a big - - - - - y e s
Tuesday, January 04, 2005
Rear View Mirror
I'm a firm believer in looking ahead, and not looking back. There is something optimistic about the future and all that is ahead. But these last few days events have made me stop and think that it is good to glance back once in awhile.
I was driving down a well-traveled road, minding my own business. I was in that space where time stands still, and I was moving and flowing with the traffic. I'm always checking my mirrors to see what is going on. I live in a tourist town, and the visiting snow birds puts all of us here in high alert. It is not unusual to see cars doing U-turns and ending up on the sidewalk or people stopping in traffic, to ask directions. My kids call elderly drivers "q-tips", because all you can see is the white tops of their heads. These sweet sweet grandparents we all love become lethal on streets far from their familiar surroundings.
So, I'm slowing down at a stop light and I glanced in my mirror. A woman was wiping tears from her face. She was crying! Now, I have had many good cries in the privacy of my auto. I've always assumed that it was a place I could let it all out, and bother no one, or have anyone bother me. I drove on with one eye on the road ahead, and one eye watching her. She turned later and took her tears down another road.
I stop at the next light and looked in my mirror, and there is another lady wiping away her sorrow. Two different people. Two completely random ladies, with their own random story. I wanted to stop my car, right there in traffic, I wanted to make a U-turn and end up on a sidewalk, just so I could say to either one of them "Why are you crying? Is there anything I can do for you?" I left them with their tears, and the privacy of their autos.
Today, I looked in my rear view mirror, and a lady was holding a hand towel on her right eye. There is so much to see, looking forward, in my rear view mirror.
I was driving down a well-traveled road, minding my own business. I was in that space where time stands still, and I was moving and flowing with the traffic. I'm always checking my mirrors to see what is going on. I live in a tourist town, and the visiting snow birds puts all of us here in high alert. It is not unusual to see cars doing U-turns and ending up on the sidewalk or people stopping in traffic, to ask directions. My kids call elderly drivers "q-tips", because all you can see is the white tops of their heads. These sweet sweet grandparents we all love become lethal on streets far from their familiar surroundings.
So, I'm slowing down at a stop light and I glanced in my mirror. A woman was wiping tears from her face. She was crying! Now, I have had many good cries in the privacy of my auto. I've always assumed that it was a place I could let it all out, and bother no one, or have anyone bother me. I drove on with one eye on the road ahead, and one eye watching her. She turned later and took her tears down another road.
I stop at the next light and looked in my mirror, and there is another lady wiping away her sorrow. Two different people. Two completely random ladies, with their own random story. I wanted to stop my car, right there in traffic, I wanted to make a U-turn and end up on a sidewalk, just so I could say to either one of them "Why are you crying? Is there anything I can do for you?" I left them with their tears, and the privacy of their autos.
Today, I looked in my rear view mirror, and a lady was holding a hand towel on her right eye. There is so much to see, looking forward, in my rear view mirror.
Monday, January 03, 2005
How's The Weather and Other Ways To Say I Love You
There are many ways to say I love you. Some people say it with roses. Some with candy. The most common way is just to say it "I love You" Then there is the way my dad has said it for as long as I can remember.
"How's the weather?"
Our phone conversations through the years have always been the same.
"Hi, It's good to hear from you.
How's the weather?"
I come to realize that what he's really saying in
"Hi, It's good to hear from you.
I love you."
Words that have been hard for my dad to form with his lips, have been spoken in other ways. I don't know if its because of his generation, or his upbringing. I don't remember him saying I love you to anyone much, until old age set in, and his alzheimer's stripped him of the reason why he won't say it. He says it now, "I love you a big bunch." My dad has always like bunches....bunches of tools, bunches of buddys to hang out with at the bars, bunches of orchids, bunches of kids he had.
I like how's the weather? It covers all of lifes journey.
How's the weather? How's your life...how are the kids...how is your health... It's much easier to talk about the weather and its storms than what is really happening.
In years past, I've always filled him in on the tornadoes of Texas and how close they were to where I lived. Hurricanes are harder to describe to him now. His memory is failing and he doesn't have the words to ask about hurricanes. I showed him a picture of the hurricanes covering the state of Florida, where I now live. In years past, we would have talked on and on about how could three hurricanes hit in one month. He didn't remember I moved there.
He has for years told me, when the weather gets better he'd come for a visit. Maybe he knows of some turmoil either side of the airport. Maybe he is waiting for life to clear up a bit, so he can come in for a smooth landing.
Sometimes when I call him, I beat him to the punch, and I'd ask him how's the weather on his end. I don't do it anymore, It changes the rhythm of our conversation. It takes away the chance for him to reach out to me.
He hardly knows my name anymore. I'm the nice lady that lives across the country. but so far, he continues to ask about the weather....and everytime he does..I smile. How's the weather? Fine Dad...just fine.
"How's the weather?"
Our phone conversations through the years have always been the same.
"Hi, It's good to hear from you.
How's the weather?"
I come to realize that what he's really saying in
"Hi, It's good to hear from you.
I love you."
Words that have been hard for my dad to form with his lips, have been spoken in other ways. I don't know if its because of his generation, or his upbringing. I don't remember him saying I love you to anyone much, until old age set in, and his alzheimer's stripped him of the reason why he won't say it. He says it now, "I love you a big bunch." My dad has always like bunches....bunches of tools, bunches of buddys to hang out with at the bars, bunches of orchids, bunches of kids he had.
I like how's the weather? It covers all of lifes journey.
How's the weather? How's your life...how are the kids...how is your health... It's much easier to talk about the weather and its storms than what is really happening.
In years past, I've always filled him in on the tornadoes of Texas and how close they were to where I lived. Hurricanes are harder to describe to him now. His memory is failing and he doesn't have the words to ask about hurricanes. I showed him a picture of the hurricanes covering the state of Florida, where I now live. In years past, we would have talked on and on about how could three hurricanes hit in one month. He didn't remember I moved there.
He has for years told me, when the weather gets better he'd come for a visit. Maybe he knows of some turmoil either side of the airport. Maybe he is waiting for life to clear up a bit, so he can come in for a smooth landing.
Sometimes when I call him, I beat him to the punch, and I'd ask him how's the weather on his end. I don't do it anymore, It changes the rhythm of our conversation. It takes away the chance for him to reach out to me.
He hardly knows my name anymore. I'm the nice lady that lives across the country. but so far, he continues to ask about the weather....and everytime he does..I smile. How's the weather? Fine Dad...just fine.
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