The Life of Spanish Varilleros

Yesterday I posted a photo on Facebook of my kitchen wall that pays homage to my son.... or his art anyway. One large painting of a flower and two small ones on the side. My friend Bonny Holder, who lives in New Mexico, made a comment that the flowers were in New Mexico colors and she reminded me that yesterday January 6, New Mexico turned 102 years old. Only 3 years older than my dad?

Then last night someone posted a video of Puerto de Luna, NM, the little community where my mother was born and raised and where she then married my dad. These events prompted me to search the internet for more information about Puerto de Luna. I find myself in my own little history lessons from time to time and before I know it, I have spent hours combing the internet for useless information.

This time I found that in the late 1800's there were Spanish Varilleros who traveled to all the rural communities selling goods. Everyone looked forward to having them come because they also provided news from the neighboring communities and played music "de la Madre Patria" from the mother country of Spain. Then there were the gypsies that roamed these parts of New Mexico in caravans. They would camp between villages in several red wagons fully equipped with tents, bedding and cooking utensils. The men would trade horses and steal chickens while the women were fortune telling and using herbs to heal the sick. I had never read any of these tales before. This was found in a book called "The Lore of New Mexico." As I read these stories, I remembered that I used to have vivid nightmares as a child about being in a caravan of what I know now to be gypsies. There were carnivals and chaos. I had nothing to base any of these fears on since I had never had that experience in this lifetime. And I have always like guitars, guitar music, especially with a Latin flair. I also felt a very close connection to the stories of Billy the Kid. He was known to have lived on a ranch with with my Great Uncle Hilario Valdez. I used to think that maybe I had been there in a past life but now I am finding studies that show that in addition to determining our physical characteristics, our vulnerabilities to certain diseases and our personality, our DNA holds important memories of our ancestors. That explains it. I was living on the Gerhardt Ranch and was kidnapped by the gypsies. LOL

There have been a few times in my life when I felt like I was living the life of a gypsy per se. However there is one winter twenty three years ago that sort of took the cake. I had just returned to Austin from LA, were I was working for an advertising agency. I didn't have a job so I spent my Christmas holiday selling my art at the 23rd Street Austin Renaissance Artist Market. I would have to say that was one of the toughest winters ever. My son spent his two week Christmas holiday helping me set up my tent every morning and hanging out with me for the day selling my art and then helping me tear it all down at night. Did I mention he was sick for most of the two weeks standing out in one of the coldest winters in Austin history? There was an artist in the booth next to mine who complained about me having my sick child there, as if I had a choice. She later had children of her own and changed her tune... I love when that happens.

I was on the board of the artist market and in charge of designing and placing the ads in the newspaper. The week before Christmas I went into the Austin American-Statesman office to place the ad. As I sat there on the second floor at the Statesman, gazing out the window in the warm office, I thought of how nice it would be to work in that office. It was heated. I wouldn't have to work all night creating jewelry only to have to stand out in the cold all day to sell it. I wouldn't have to live like a gypsy!

The week after Christmas, when the Christmas rush was over at the artist market,  I went and applied for a job in the Educational Services Department at the Statesman. Much to my surprise, on January 6, I had the job! Wait.... January 6, 1912 New Mexico joined the union and January 6, 1991, I got a real job working at the newspaper! I never put the two together until last night. What a coincidence.

The Marketing Department of the Austin American-Statesman
Around 1995

 I don't know what I was expecting of that job, I just wanted to be out of the cold.  I don't think I expected to work there for 15 years! But one year lead to the next. Then my kids were teenagers and I needed a safety net and insurance. I stayed in Educational Services for 7 years and then moved into Marketing for 8 years. All in all, my experience at the Statesman was a good one. I made many very good friends and I learned a lot. My biggest lesson by far was that the creative part of being an artist of any kind is a very small part of being successful. One has to know how to market yourself. I am guessing that the traveling Spanish Varilleros were good at it because they successfully left a good impression on their customers. The gypsies, maybe not so much because of their dishonesty.

I haven't been at the Statesman for 6 years. I thank God every day for the internet. Now I get to sell my art from the comfort of my own home and work when I want. YaY! I love my life!

Children Make Me Laugh.... And They Grow Up Too Fast

Last night my son called to share one of those funny stories that parents and grandparents live for. He said "Mom, Andrew just pulled a Christian on me." I thought oh God! What has he done? Instead it was one of those educational moments that only happens once in a lifetime that is simply heart warming.

Andrew to his dad, in his all knowing six year old stance:
"Dad, it is NOT War War Two, it is World War Two."

Christian said he was trying his best not to laugh at Andrew's new realization because he remembered the time when he was about four or five, just learning to read. We were driving home in Oak Hill and he saw the sign that we had passed many, many times that read "Oak Hill."

Christian said to me in his five year old surprised voice: "Mom, it's not "Oh Kill, it's Oak Hill."

It took all I had not to laugh. It only stood to reason that Christian would think it was called "Oh Kill." It was in the mid 80's and he and Adriane spent a year driving around with me in the "Oak Hill" area looking for a place to build our dream home. Convict Hill was my first choice since it was on the edge of town, high on the hill. Bt there were scary rumors of long ago, when prisoners, with their ankles hobbled by heavy chains and iron balls. The prisoners cut stone for the Capitol Building that was being built in Austin. Some men died on the site. There were stories of prisoners being buried in shallow graves on that hill. Hence the name "Convict Hill." I don't know why I would scare my 5 year old with that story but needless to say, we decided to buy land further out off of Circle Drive.

When Dylan was about five years old, he realized that we were all saying "remember" and not "renember" and was upset that nobody had bothered to correct him. It is just one of those things that you hold on to for as long as you can, because learning how to say words correctly is just another step in them growing up and moving on with their life.

Dylan is turning 17 in 9 days and talking about going away to school. They grow up and learn how to talk way too fast!

Time flies when you're having fun.

Dylan's Summer Vacation in Dallas

My dear friend Danny Roy Young used to say that if he'd known being a grandfather was going to be so much fun, he would have done that first. I have to agree. My adorable 16 yr old grandson Dylan went to Dallas this week to hang out. The biggest draw was a ticket to go to the Ranger's game with Richard. It has been a blast. He took 30 photos at the game. I think he loved it!

It was a first time experiment with the MegaBus and there was definitely a learning curve observed by all. You have to purchase your tickets online because there is no bus station. In most cities there are tents set up on a street corner. In Dallas, the Dart Transfer Center on Olive Street downtown is used. If you purchase your ticket early, you can get it for as little as a dollar, full price is $25. The buses are nice, double decker with WiFi. Again, no bus stations so bring food and drinks with you and tag you luggage before you leave home. 

So the night after the Ranger's game, Kathy came by and we went to Torchy's Tacos and then for a late night ride around Dallas. She showed us all the buildings and places that meant something to her in her childhood as well as the new stuff in Dallas. What fun! 

Yesterday we spent the day at the Arboretum, walking around in the 102 degree heat.... it was lovely. Absolutely the most amazing gardens I have ever seen, however I think that maybe a stroll around the gardens in October might be a little more pleasant. We cooled down with a smoothie that was more like a slushy.... nice! 

It has been a fun summer vacation. We made lots of memories. We had Hypnotic Donuts, went to White Rock Lake, Dylan and Richard saw a Ranger's game, Dylan ate sushi twice, we made our obligatory trip to several athletic stores to find the perfect Ranger's jersey, we ate Torchy's Tacos, we drove around Dallas at night, we spent 3 hours walking around the Arboretum in the 104 degree weather looking at flowers, took a trip to the Army Store and a LONG Saturday afternoon drive by the location where "Gas Monkey" is filmed.... and fun was had by all making memories.

1/3/13.... Lucky 13

So here we are, entering into the lucky number 13. Last night I returned from a trip to my beloved Texas, where I spent most of my time feeling under the weather, coughing, with a fever. I only saw about half the friends I had hoped to see. I am sure it was all just exactly the way it was supposed to be. Lots of quality time with Richard, three nights at Chateau René, a couple of meals with Dylan, and a Danny Britt gig at Donn's Depot. I really wish Monday night had not been New Year's so I could have done my usual Monday night thing, going to Mystery Monday, to see Sarah and Christine at El Mercado and Chris at Donn's but there is always next time.

The holidays season is normally a very happy, bustling, busy time for me. This year was different. I had no studio therefore no art shows. I sent store bought Christmas cards. My thirty some odd year old collection of Christmas decorations were in storage and I missed every annual party that I have attended for twenty or thirty years. I didn't go to Christmas Church Service at Willie's. But hey, change is good right? Ugh.

I don't remember a December ever that I had time to set and catch up on recorded TV shows. Good news is that Christian and Carrie have an excellent huge flat screen TV and it was too cold to go out and oh wait... I am in Missouri, I have no place to go. A couple of days before we went to Texas, I was catching up on "Long Island Medium" and Christian was making fun of me because Theresa, the star of the show communicates with people who have passed over. He thinks it is morbid so it was even funnier, on the way back to Missouri last night, Andrew and I were in the back set watching one of his favorite animated movies "ParaNorman," a movie about a little boy who talks to people who have crossed over. LOL

So today... I was on the phone with a friend, talking about how normal it seems to us that there are spirits among us and it dawned on her that it seemed like she had felt the presence of someone who had passed away on Christmas several years ago. Suddenly, across the room, the book "Where the Sidewalk Ends" by Shel Silverstein fell off of the bookshelf onto the floor. I told my friend on the phone and she said that it was odd because she was just looking at the same book on her bookshelf. She opened the book to this poem.

True Story

~ Shel Silverstein

This morning I jumped on my horse,

And went out for a ride,

And some wild outlaws chased me

And they shot me in the side.

So I crawled into a wildcat’s cave

To find a place to hide,

But some pirates found me sleeping there,

And soon they had me tied

To a pole and built a fire

Under me—I almost cried

Till a mermaid came and cut me loose

And begged to be my bride,

So I said I’d come back Wednesday

But I must admit I lied.

Then I ran into a jungle swamp

But I forgot my guide

And I stepped into some quicksand,

And no matter how I tried

I couldn’t get out, until I met

A water snake named Clyde,

Who pulled me to some cannibals

Who planned to have me fried.

But an eagle came and swooped me up

And through the air we flied,

But he dropped me in a boiling lake

A thousand miles wide.

And you’ll never guess what I did then—

I DIED.

So I am dedicating this poem to you my dear May 12th buddy. May your soul rest in peace.

Acceleration of Energy

The other day I picked up my phone to call my brother, Phillip, however my phone rang and it was him. We have one of those relationships... we can go weeks without talking and pick up right where we left off.  Those of you that really know us (like his wife, Deborah) are amused that we go into a zone of speaking in the "Phippo- CiCi language." If we are left alone for any amount of time we always end up speaking in the realm of spirituality and science. One minute we are talking about the Bible and the next minute we are talking about the effect words have on water molecules.

On this particular day I was saddened by the imbalance of mankind. Whether it be due to those who take advantage of kindhearted trusting people or the disenfranchised. Or the parents who neglect the responsibility of financial or moral support to their children, with not a thought of the lifelong effect it has on not only their children but their children's children. When I was younger I was positive that karma would catch up with these people. I also believed that if one lived a good life, good things would happen. But as I have gotten older I realized sometimes that just doesn't happen in this lifetime. There comes a time when one has to come to terms with the fact that sometimes life just isn't fair and it has been that way throughout the ages.

The Native Americans had their country taken, black people became slaves. Bankers continue to take people's homes, crooked investors take innocent client's life savings, greedy landlords raise rents unfairly, fathers don't pay child support forcing mothers and children to live in poverty and I don't even want to talk about how I feel about drug dealers. Then there are people who are simply unjustly judged simply due to their color or creed.

In Phillip's soothing calm tone he simply said to me "Vengeance is not ours." It was as if I had heard those words for the first time. In my mind's eye, I saw the face of Martin Luther King who fought for his rights and more importantly for the rights of others, fully knowing in his heart that he would never, in his lifetime, experience the wonderment of seeing someone that he fought for become the President of the United States. I got it. Vengeance is not ours. Faith is ours. Faith that one must hold close to our hearts while trusting our path.

I had lost faith on my life path. Over the next few days I started to feel that all the work I had been doing on myself had brought all of these changes on, sort of as the ultimate life test. But I felt that I had failed the test because when I left Austin November 5, what I was feeling was scared, alone, confused and betrayed due to an accumulation of life's events. The final straw was the landlord from hell. I had no idea the effect this man would have on my life. Two years ago I felt like I was on top of the world, I made a verbal agreement with him. He had a duplex right smack dab where I wanted to live in Central South Austin. I was excited to make my home and studio in 78704. I spent thousands of my own hard earned money to remodel his duplex. I carelessly signed a 15 page, 2 year lease without reading the contents because we had a verbal agreement that I would be there much longer and possibly buy it later. Then reality hit. He wasn't a nice man and he lived next door. I planned my days around when he was home as to not have a confrontation with him, as did everyone else in the cul-de-sac. As soon as my lease was up he refused to renew it, knowing that with all the expensive artistic improvements, he would be able to rent it for much more than I was paying.

I haven't written much on my blog since June because I was devastated on so many levels. The contents of my home but more importantly, my studio went into storage. Since then I felt sort of paralyzed, afraid that if I said or wrote anything it would just give what I was feeling power or I would be judged as a failure, or even worse, it would sound like I was complaining or blaming when in reality I have just been trying to make sense of it all.

As many of you know I moved to St Louis to live with my son, his wife and my 5 yr old grandson for a while. Then the other night my son Christian voiced his concern. I had always been the light house in his life, the force of positive energy that he could depend on. My light has not been shining.  As I lie curled up on the couch under a blanket, I was forced to put into words what I was feeling. All I could come up with was I felt like I had been knocked down so many times that I was having a hard time getting up. Feeling the need to just take a break from life, I stopped all my rituals of lighting a candles, praying and meditating. I stopped wishing on the first star in the sky at night, afraid to ask for anything because it felt as if everything I touched crumbled.

It didn't make sense. I had taken two art business classes from Kelly Rae Roberts, I was serious about taking my art business to the next level. I spent 2 years working day and night on myself and my art. I was doing art shows, selling art on Etsy, only to have it crumble when I lost my studio. Not only did I feel betrayed, but all of the betrayals of my life that I had not dealt with came to the surface. Sort of like the stories I hear about near death experiences, I had flashes of scenes in my life showing me how I could have handled situations in another manner as to not have been taken advantage of.

Through it all, those who believe in me, are still here. They took me in, helped me move and then move again and again, they took in my cat and my plants and gave me hope. They call me, email me and text me to make sure I am okay. I have realized that my achilles' heel is my home. Well, of course it is, I am a Taurus - Earth mother, homemaker. I have been devastated so many times due to the loss of my home and every time, it makes no sense. I now know that it is my life lesson and every time it happens I become less and less attached to material things. I have had this conversation with Phillip and gone so far as to relate it back to our Sephardic Jewish heritage.... but I am not going there, that is a whole other chapter in my blog.

Times are hard, not just for me but for everyone. Everyone is being faced with an acceleration of energy and now is the time to examine life long issues and make adjustments. We're in transition and in just a couple of days we will reach the point of alignment. On the Winter Solstice-Dec. 21, 2012, we're completing a 26,000 year cycle. This is huge. Our planet will align with the Great Central Sun, and the galactic center. Transmissions of unconditional, pure love will flow forth. Each of us will receive only to the extent we are capable of receiving.  A perfect way to participate is to just let our identities soften and be fluid. Allow yourself to receive all the experiences, the love, the support you need to reflect and be present to this change. It is as much a beginning as it is an end.
  
Trust your path. Do not compare yourself to anyone, just be you. Let yourself go at your pace-- just being you. Perfect and beautiful.

420 In Austin Texas - Finally, a Statue of Willie!

It has been a week to remember! Friday, April 20 (4/20) at 4:20 was the unveiling of Willie Nelson's statue in front of the the Austin City Limits, Moody Theater on Willie Nelson Blvd! I read that there was a crowd of about 2,000 but in my mind, I was amongst small group of friends and family as Willie helped unveil the statue honoring him. For those of you who have been living under a rock, 420 has long been reserved to celebrate smoking pot. Organizers said they didn't intentionally choose April 20 for the event, but once they found out, they scheduled the unveiling at 4:20 p.m. as a tongue-in-cheek reference to Willie's advocacy for the legalization of pot.

The statue was created by Philadelphia sculptor, Clete Shields who said the leaning pose and heroic scale are intended to show Nelson's openness and whimsical side while honoring his tremendous influence on music and the city. He said  "We wanted to get a timeless Willie, an ageless Willie."

Friday was very surreal. To the world Willie is a 10-time Grammy Award winner who has sold more than 40 million copies of his 150 albums. The heartfelt congratulations from Kris Kristofferson expressed more of what Willie is to me and brought tears to my eyes. He said how proud he was of his friend and he couldn't have imagined the city honoring Willie during the early days of what became known as the Cosmic Cowboy movement in music. That is a time that so many of us hold close to our hearts. I was 18 and Willie's daughter, Lana was 20 when we became roommates. That year (1974) we drove Lana's Ford station wagon with our other roommate Mary, following Willie on his California tour. We thought he might need our support on the west coast only to find the crowds as large as they were in Texas. We celebrated Lana's 21st birthday at the famous Italian restaurant, Vanessi's in San Francisco with my sister, Nita who was living in Marin County, and the entire Willie Nelson band.

From the first time I saw Willie perform, I was always amazed at how he would make contact with everyone in the crowd starting with the front row. You could just feel the energy move all the way to the back of the crowd. To the drunkest in the crowd he would sing "Whiskey River" and end the show with "Will the Circle Be Unbroken." Everyone would leave feeling like we had just gone to church. In the 80s, during the first year of Farm-Aid,  Willie's secretary Jody Fischer, hired me to help with the overwhelming response from farmers and supporters at the recording studio.

Nita, Bianca, Cayce, Martha, Christina and Mario

Christina, Carole, Kate and Nita

Before the unveiling, a small group of friends and family met at Lambert's, a block away so we could walk together to the big event. My favorite conversation of the day .... 

Lana says to me, as we are walking on Willie Nelson Blvd in front of a store filled with Willie Nelson T-Shirts, towards the unveiling of the Willie Nelson statue... "So tell me something exciting going on in your life. " I said "Not much, just doing art, painting. And you?" Lana says "Not much. Just going to see an statue of my dad." 

We stopped in on the way and Lana bought Willie T-Shirts for some of the kids.

Dean and Mario

Then there was Lana's son Bryan who wore his own awesome T-Shirt that Willie and Annie had given him. It just seemed appropriate to wear to the unveiling of his grandfather's statue.

So here we are in 2012, our kids are grown and have their own kids. Willie was an inspiration to my parents who were older than him, my generation's inspiration, our hero and  became our kid's hero and now our grandkids. Earlier this week Willie had played in St Louis and Christian and Carrie took my grandson, Andrew to his first Willie concert. Last night was another wonderful opening night with Willie at "The Backyard." I had the privilege of going with Nita and my great  niece, Bianca to her first Willie concert. She was beyond excited and so in tuned with what Willie is about. It was awesome hanging with her. Then Nita took her on stage to get a better look at Willie.

Martha and avoided the stage rush and went to the green room where she found "On the Road" by Jack Kerouac.

Finally!  A statue of Willie in downtown Austin!
It is a glorious day! 

Watch the video here!

Today Is The Day! Call Rick Perry 1- 800 252-9600

Last Tuesday, with four days' notice, Marica Ball gathered more than 200 of her closest friends to the state Capitol for a protest called "Seeing Red." Yesterday was the second of three protests and at least 300 of Austin's finest gathered to protest Rick Perry and the Republicans attack on women's health. Today is the day! Call 1-800 252-9600 and let Rick Perry know what you think!

Joy, Carole, Pam, Christina, Kate, Van, Dylan and Charlie

Read more here: http://www.star-telegram.com/2012/03/06/3789977/rushs-words-spur-rally-at-state.html#storylink=cpy

Read more here: http://www.star-telegram.com/2012/03/06/3789977/rushs-words-spur-rally-at-state.html#storylink=cpy

Joy, Carole, Pam, Christina, Kate, Van, Dylan and Charlie

Yesterday was a heartwarming experience having my grandson, Dylan and Marcia and Van's mother at the rally. I know my momma was there in spirit. My cousin from New Mexico messaged me on Facebook and told me I looked just like my mother and the way she used to hold her purse. She would have gotten a kick out of my slut bag!

Carole, Kate and me - Protesting for Women's Health Care!
Rush Limbaugh thinks women who have sex are sluts so
I thought I should be stylin' my Slutt Bagge!

 Three generations of families, male and female, fighting for our rights as humans. As my friend Carole told Dylan, when she and Kate picked us up to go to  the rally, "This is a day you will remember, Dylan!" It is so true. One of my best childhood memories is of my mother taking me to see JFK when he was running for the Presidency. I was five and I remember it like it was yesterday. I got to sit on the front row with the press and John Kennedy kissed me on the forehead after his speech, I was star struck. Kids need to experience these things at an early age with people they know and trust to build a good foundation and children need to keep their elderly parents involved to keep them alive. I was thinking yesterday how lucky Hope, Van and Marcia are to have each other.

My grandson Dylan carrying Kate's sign

Marcia, Hope and Van

Betsy Moon

I also want to thank my friend, Betsy Moon for keeping the words of Molly Ivins alive and thank you to all the musicians who always make every event fun!

Beth Galiger playing flute

Len and Joy

Carole, Kate and Me - Stylin' my Slutt Bagge!

Now Go LIKE the "Seeing Red" Facebook Page!

Women in Texas Seeing Red!

"Seeing Red Luna Chick" Created March 10

Where do I start on this issue? Let's just start with the fact that March is Women's History Month. How apropos is it that? The 2012 National Women's History Month Theme is "Women's Education and Women's Empowerment!" Then why in the hell are we still experiencing gender discrimination? Why are the women in my home state of Texas having to fight for women's health care? Why is it that 80% of students in art school women and only 42% of the art in galleries by women?

I know I scare people when I get on my soap box but didn't we fight this fight in the 60's?  No woman should be treated as a second-class citizen, anywhere, under any circumstances and I am sorry this may sound a little sensitive but all of this makes me mad enough to cry!

Last week was the first of three "Seeing Red" protests with a great turn out of over 200. Rachel Maddow saluted Marcia Ball and all women in red states rallying for women's rights on her show. I created an Etsy Treasury to bring awareness to the cause. Tomorrow Tuesday, March 13, the second rally will take place at the Capitol. Hope to see all you there at noon. Wear your red shirt, make a sign, bring some noise makers, your voice and conviction, something to drink and your enthusiasm.  We hope to double if not triple that number tomorrow. 

It is more than the question of "If Viagra is covered shouldn't birth control be covered?" That is a no-brainer, of course it should be. It is more about women losing ground that we had already fought for and won! We must denounces the words and lobbying of anyone or any group, including public figures like Rush Limbaugh, using national media to promote disgusting and disrespectful terms and policies directed at woman. 

See you at the Capitol tomorrow at noon! Wear RED!

My Word For 2012 ~ Prosperity

Last year I started a journey of intense creativity.... I use the term "intense creativity" because I have made a living at being creative most of my life but in this past year the fire was turned up in my personal life. There were many extreme changes and the only way I got through it all was to channel all of that energy into art. What I found was that I had been channeling most of my creative energy towards other people's dreams most of my life and very little towards my own dreams. I came to the realization that to really prosper I would have to focus on myself. Now, I am starting a new year, learning to channel my intense creativity into prosperity.

With that being said.... Prosperity is relative. I know people with lots of money that I would not consider to be prosperous. To some, prosperity may mean being able to buy groceries to others it would mean a trip to Paris.  To me true prosperity means not only living in abundance but also being able to live my life the way I want to live without having to compromise my beliefs.

I have an alter in my living room where I light a candle every morning and say a prayer and commit to my dreams. On the alter is my treasure box where I have all my wishes, dreams and prayers written on little pieces of paper. Sometimes those words become art. Prosperity to me would mean that all those dreams, prayers and wishes would come true.

Here's to a full year of prosperity, abundance and fulfilled dreams, prayers and wishes!

You're my buddy, my pal, my friend

I feel so incredibly fortunate when I am hanging out with my grandsons and working in my studio.  This week is going to be a busy one preparing for the "Dia de los Muertos" show on Saturday. Fortunately, Dylan spent the weekend with me this past week and helped me get some of my polymer clay pieces made. He is a worker. He always does his best and never complains. When I grow up I want to marry someone just like my grandson! LOL. Seriously, there is always a sense of peace and fulfillment when I am just hanging out with Dylan. I am hoping that when I am long gone that he will be able to share great memories with his children and grandchildren of the days we spent in my studio, in my garden and in the kitchen creating. It warms my heart to know that he feels the same about me. He has lived 40 miles away since he was in the second grade so most of our conversations are on the phone but it seems that when I do go pick him up in New Braunfels, as soon as he throws his backpack in the back seat and jumps in the car, he has profound questions that he appears to save up between visits. I used to think "How cool is that that he saves them for me?" Now I realize he is just that relaxed and cool all the time. At any rate, I am happy to do my part, I openly share all my tricks of the trade and knowledge from the school of hard knocks. I even email him info that I wish someone had shared with me as a teenager.

Today my lesson for my children and grandchildren is from Steve Jobs.
Seven Rules of Success by Steve Jobs

So there are those practical lessons that Steve Jobs shared and then there are those lessons that you can only learn in your grandma's art studio, kitchen and garden. And as much as I have taught my grandsons... they teach me so much more and I feel so blessed that they are my own personal little angels.

Here is my musician grandson, Andrew playing my bass when he was 2 years old. He is now 4 years old and awaiting a new brother or sister.... I am so blessed.

Here's the lyrics to a song by Willie Nelson that I would like to dedicate to my grandsons.

I've Loved YOU All Over the  World

You're my buddy, my pal, my friend
It will be that way until the end
And wherever you go, I want you to know
You're my buddy, my pal, my friend

And I've loved you all over the world
You are my sunshine
You keep my life in a whirl
And you love me sometimes

I'll always follow my heart
Wherever it takes me
And until death do us part
I'll love you all over the world

I'll always follow my heart
Wherever it takes me
And until death do us part
I'll love you all over the world

~ Willie Nelson

Miracles Appear In The Strangest Of Places ~ Fancy Meeting You Here!

Sunday was an exciting day for me. I had been working on 18 paintings for my art show at Hyde Park Bar & Grill off and on for a few weeks. I was up at the crack of dawn, with not 1 but 3 very strong cups of coffee on Sunday and had the paintings hung by noon, with the help of Anne Ducote, thank you Anne. I came home and continued working on my next show, the Viva La Vida Fest 28th Annual Dia de los Muertos Celebration, Saturday, October 22, 2011. After about 30 minutes, I heard this little voice saying "Christina, it is a beautiful day. Treat yourself to a day off, go out and get out and get some sun." I closed my laptop and jumped in my car and off I went to South Congress Ave to take a stroll, do some window shopping and get some ideas for my next painting. 

My excellent parking karma on a very busy street was an indication that it was going to be a good afternoon. I walked up one side of Congress, and I do mean up.... South Congress is on a steady slope all the way then I crossed over and came back down the other side. I stopped in a really cool new book store that has one of a kind collectible books and art.  Django Reinhardt music was playing, that is always a sign. I talked to the girls behind the counter about her music selection for a little while and then discovered that she had brought the old album from home. She mentioned that she was going to playing in a marching band in the parade that takes place at the Viva La Vida Fest. It was a cool connection. I walked out of the book store and in the silence of walking alone on the crowded street. There was sort of melancholy haze had fallen over me for the afternoon. I started feeling the let down of having finished a big art project, wondering what is next.

I walked another block and experienced what could be a scene in a very heart warming movie. There on a bench, rolling an American Spirit cigarette was one of my favorite people on the planet, Billy Doss. Truly, miracles appear in the strangest of places. I had not seen Billy in at least 3 years, he lives 100 miles away down IH35 (a road neither of us like to travel) If I had had dared to dream of one thing I wanted for the day to shake the blues away, running into Billy would have been #1 on that list. This was another lesson in "When you hear a whisper from the Universe... LISTEN."

We sat on the bench for a while and talked then went to listen to some music at Guerro's and then to El Gallo for some Mexican food. I took him to my house, he immediately noticed that a piece of vintage tile work that he had given me was hanging between the kitchen and dining room and very much an inspiration for the decor of the two rooms.