Gratuitous Cute Frankie photo!

Admit it, he's cute.

Guess I'm just partial. But he makes me smile every day, and that's all that matters!
(And Poopy is pretty special, too....)

One full month since she's passed...

And I still find it very hard to believe she's gone.

Miss you, sweet angel. I know you've come to visit me lately... thank you. I love you.

Farewell, Princess Yeti...

Rest in peace, beautiful girl.  10/1995 - 7/20/2011

Yeti slipped peacefully away earlier this morning. I said fare thee well to my dearest, sweet, funny, clever Friend of over seventeen years. That span of time passed in the blink of an eye! A thousand years would not have been nearly enough. Humans are selfish, aren't we. We have grief for what is taken from us that was never really ours to begin with... everything is only on loan, temporarily. I pray to remember to have thankfulness for the love and good times shared while on this mortal plane.

I know she has set off for the Summerland, to laze in the soft sunshine, and of course to chase all those fat, slow, abundant mice there. Yeti, the mighty Huntress! No more pain in that tiny, depleted, frail body... but needless to say, there is much sorrow in my soul as I had to come to terms with letting her go. She was a truly amazing, special girl, intelligent like no other, responding to verbal commands and even playing fetch like a dog. I recall so many times, simply thinking of her, and she'd show up, jump onto my lap, and give a loud, Siamese "ROWLLL." A lot to be said about pets having a sixth sense, for certain, and with Yeti, it was uncanny. We went through a lot together, our lives intertwined across time and miles. How do you bid goodbye to a friend and not fall apart, I ask you?

My heart grieves deeply, beyond any sort of description... and right when I think the tears may finally be subsiding, along comes another fresh river that torrents out from my soul. The house seems so incredibly quiet without her presence. She used to sit outside our bedroom door and sing raucous arias in the wee hours of the night, awakening Mark and I. What I wouldn't give to have her sing for me again... 


I asked her to please come visit me... to come give me a sign, when she's ready. I'll be looking for her in the sheen of every iridescent butterfly's wing, in every autumn leaf that drifts gently in the breeze and makes a dappled shadow, in every gleaming diamond sparkle of snow... while my heart breaks further into pieces and I sob at the void she's left in me. But my real comfort comes knowing that she is now with her Daddy, Everett, accompanied by my other beloved Kitty Souls who have passed before her: Grizz and Misha, and also Coco, my much-loved childhood Border Collie. May they all reunite, to rest and romp among their many friends and ancestors.

May the mighty Bast receive you back among the fold, to walk with you and your fellow Felines. I was so honored to have you in my life, Yeti. Thank you for the years you enriched all aspects of my existence. You taught me many valuable lessons... you are so loved.

Merry Meet, and sad to part... but Merry Meet again one day.

I dubbed this "IlluminYeti" as she appears to glow... 2007

Yeti... our first winter in Nashville, 2005

***UPDATED 8/10/11*** His 50th Trip Around the Sun...

Happy Half-Century to you, dearest Mark!

I was honored to be with him as he celebrated his 50th birthday along with a boisterous roomful of close friends at Kimbro's Pickin' Parlor in historic Franklin. Mark's brother Steven drove in from St. Louis as a surprise, and everyone got to have a big hunk of gooey chocolate cake. Yes, his birthday is on St. Patty's day, but that just makes it all the more fun! 

I always tell him that he's getting crabbier as he gets older, so our friends, The Secret Commonwealth, comprised a special song just for him, sung to the tune of "Dirty Old Town." 

I love you, sweetheart. You are wonderful beyond words. Thanks for being my friend, my cohort in all things fun (and even those that are less than fun). Here's to making the next 50 even more eventful!

The St. Patty's Day Birthday Boy is only just hitting his stride! 

Happy New Year... Great Old Tahoe Memories... and Continuous Hauntings!

Snowed in we are (yet again), up here on the hill in the woods. Castle GreenFuzz (as I have dubbed our home) is comfy and warm and quiet inside, thankfully so, as the atrocious weather last evening dumped another three or so icy inches outside. I have only ventured outdoors in the brisk 8 degree air to let the dog go pee pee and to refill the bird feeders, then scuttled quickly back inside to shake off the chill.

Chills, you say? Chills abound, indeedy! Let's talk about that for a minute now. I happened upon a few vintage photos of the famous (or, infamous, if you prefer) Cal-Neva Lodge and Casino at Lake Tahoe. The lodge is located on the scenic north shore in Crystal Bay, straddling both the California and Nevada statelines (hence the name), and boasts a truly interesting history. In its heyday, it was a hangout for Mafioso gangsters and the likes of entertainment dignitaries such as the Rat Pack (Frank Sinatra himself once owned the establishment, and used the lodge's subterranean tunnels to scurry about without being noticed), Jack and Bobby Kennedy, and, of course, Marilyn Monroe, who stayed there at her small bungalow the week before her mysterious death. And, yes, there have been accounts of spectral Monroe sightings at or around the bungalow in recent years.  

Early photo of the Lodge, before the addition and tower were added

Everything about the Cal-Neva Lodge invokes chills in so many ways. Local lore claims it's built on ancient Indian sacred land and that restless spirits abound. 

The Front Room, where spirit mists like the one above have been reported

It does have a very unusual feel to it, to be sure, as there is some sort of vibe that seemingly emanates from the old wood paneling and stone architecture. The last time I was there in the late summer of 2006, I felt that deeply in a variety of ways. 

My photo of the Front Room (note orbs near ceiling)

But that remains to be told here; I'm getting ahead of the story....

Refurbished entrance and tower in rear, where we performed the deed!

A lot of my old memories have become liked aged tabloid photos: drained of their critical color, their elements are now rendered nearly black and white, or at best, sepia-toned. Yet that is not so for the Cal-Neva (nor any of Lake Tahoe for that matter). Those images remain pristine and crystal-clear like the otherworldly-blue waters of the mile-high lake itself, which some claim is bottomless (highly impossible - the deepest section that has been mapped by bathysphere is certainly quite deep: 1,645 feet). I can vividly recall the abundant A-frame Swiss chalet and log cabin homes dotting the lake shore, the brilliant high-altitude sunshine, and lovely, conifer-covered granite mountains laden with a thick carpet of pine needles that crunched as I tread upon it, releasing their heavenly-fresh aroma in my nose. Or maybe it's the three large pine trees we have here in our front yard I'm smelling... regardless, Tahoe beckons to me often, and I seem to reverberate on its cerulean blue frequency. Perhaps it's the Celt in me... or some specks of old ancestral Nordic blood I must retain from pillages past. 


Either way, it's my favorite terrain, and I get all verklempt as I reminisce of it.

No such thing as a bad view anywhere

Better put, Tahoe haunts me...

Lake Tahoe's Emerald Bay section, showing Fannette island

You've never seen such shades of blue!

We spent nearly every summer there when I was growing up as a kid in the smoggy, stiflingly-hot San Fernando Valley in the '60s and '70s ("But it's a DRY HEAT," I was plentifully reminded by my east coast parents who knew what humidity was like).


My Brooklyn-born folks loved the place - Daddy in particular, as he was an avid gambler and going there for our summer vay-cays afforded him the opportunity to temporarily leave his dull TV/electronics repairman job and get some high-altitude thrills. For Mom, well, the Cal-Neva once being owned by her idol was more than enough reason to go! 


During the days, we'd go kayaking or simply float serenely in the lake, bake in the sun on the clean sandy beaches, go sight-seeing, catch crawdads in the lake or trout in the nearby Truckee River. At night, we'd slather cream on our sunburns, dress up, and venture out to eat. Always, we went to Bacci's Inn, a rustic, Old World Italian restaurant that had the best food outside of Little Italy. Our yearly pilgrimage to Bacci's was something we looked forward to with great excitement and much salivation. (The minestrone soup alone is to die for!)

Salivating outside the much-loved Bacci's Inn 

After our feast, the oldsters would try their luck on the one-armed bandits or at the crap tables back at the sparkly Cal-Neva casino. Of course, us under-age minors got shuffled off to the kiddies' arcade with our pockets full of quarters, where some of us sure played a mean pinball. We had soft-serve ice cream cones for dessert and would walk around barefoot at twilight on the shore, reveling in the last vestiges of warmth left in the sand before the moon rose over the horizon and stole it away for the night.

Well-fed, thanks to Bacci's

I love and miss Tahoe greatly, mourning its remoteness like a lover in a long-distance relationship. When Daddy and I discussed his last wishes, he said that he wanted to have his ashes scattered there. After his death in September 2005, Mark and I arranged to fly out the following year on the first anniversary and do just this. It was a crackling-hot day (but very dry, remember) as we drove around the 75 or so lakeshore miles in our rental car (a sofa-on-wheels/Pimp Daddy-style Lincoln Continental) to find just the *right* spot to carry out our task.

Granite, pine, and heavenly blue skies

Emerald Bay is a small finger that juts out on the lower west end of the lake's California side, and as we happened upon it, I knew in my heart that this was the perfect place. This section of the lake is most well-known for both Fannette Island, where almost hundred years ago an eccentric woman built a stone house that she rowed out to each day in order to have afternoon tea; and, directly across from it on the shore, Vikingsholm Castle: a breathtaking marvel of Nordic architecture, complete with wooden beams carved into the shape of dragon heads and a living sod roof (I want a sod roof! I want a sod roof! Wait, I'm an eccentric woman, too, and I want a Viking castle!).

We hiked several miles down the Rubicon Trail's winding hilly path in the bright sunshine (me, clutching the urn of ashes in a discrete cardboard box) to the shore where I searched for a private area to say a prayer and release Daddy's earthly remains. 

Suddenly, there it was at the water's edge: an ancient tree stump, its wood bent over in a surreal way, forming a virtual archway to the lake. I have never seen a tree in this shape in my entire life. It was astonishing, and almost unsettling in a way, to see something as magical as this. 

Daddy's Archway

Never mind that such an act in a state park may have been against the law, likely carrying heavy fines, but dammit, this was beyond the mere laws of ordinary mortals - I had an important job to do! And it was here that most of Daddy's ashes were scattered over the lake and to the wind. 

I say 'most,' because I knew where to scatter the rest... Cal-Neva Lodge!!!

That evening, Mark and I snuck into the Tower section of the lodge - no easy feat, as security is tight and there are cameras everywhere. You need to be a guest and have a room key to access the elevator (neither of which we were or had!). We craftily made our way to the top floor, walked to the front of the hallway and casually opened up the door to the balcony overlooking the front of the hotel... and sent a billowing cloud of Daddy flying out over the rooftop into the night! Across the famous hangout for mobsters, starlets, politicians, to mingle with the spirits of Native peoples.... POOF!

Just after the deed was done... hee hee hee!

Holy crap, if someone had looked up and seen us, they may have feared we were dumping gawdknowswhat and called the cops! Obviously we didn't want to push our luck, and cheesed it ASAP, cackling to ourselves as we blithely strode out the front door and into the cool night.

I'd held so much emotions inside myself during the past year after his passing, and now found it being finally released, crying with a mixture of grief and utter hilarity at our stunt, and knew in my heart that Daddy was having himself a big laugh, too. I mean, what balls I must have had to attempt this. Was it worth risking getting arrested for? Shit, yeah! And I'd do it again in a heartbeat!

Please take note, as I, too, am planning to have my earthly remains dispersed in such a way... but first, I insist that everyone parties first, hearty and long. The Irish in me demands it!

PART 2 of Cal-Neva and Lake Tahoe adventures to come. Stay tuned!

http://www.vikingsholm.org/

http://naturalplane.blogspot.com/2008/10/cal-neva-resort-still-haunted-by-famous.html

http://hauntedtahoe.blogspot.com/2008/08/cal-neva-lodge-investigation.html

Happy Birthday to you, Everett...

Hey, Evvy. You would have been 41 years young today! Yes, that was me, sending you love and good thoughts over the years since you've gone. I'm still unpacking boxes of stuff here, and continuously find photos of you. I know, even after being in this cool old house for nearly 3 whole years now, I still have stuff to unpack... which will take me the rest of my life, no doubt! Remember how I used to get mad at you for being such a disorganized pack rat? Well now it's me who is the pack rat.

Here is another old pic from times gone by. It was taken when you and I drove up to Lake Tahoe for my cousin Stacy's wedding in 1994. I remember going out onto the shores of the lake around midnight, and drinking rum with you as we looked up at the starry sky. I often think of you still whenever I gaze at the heavens. 


I miss you.

Love is all you need...

30 years ago today.

And I can still vividly recall exactly where and with whom I was when I heard the stunning news of his assassination... and the shocking despair... the disbelief... that I felt inside.


One of my long-time favorite quotes was a Lennonism: "Life is what happens when you're busy making other plans." It is a simple yet astounding truth, and I use it to this very day.

Thank you for everything - EVERYTHING - you did in the hopes of saving humanity, dear John. There's nothing else I can say that hasn't already been said, but that you are missed - and loved, still - so very much.

It's easy. Love is all you need.

Clown Power!

How to kick the KKK's flabby old ass: with LAUGHTER!

Upon my early morning coffee/Internet perusal hour, I happened upon this news story from '07. A collection of Sad and Ignorant Outcasts (aka the KKK) tried to organize a hate rally in downtown Knoxville, TN. A group of people dressed like clowns arrived on the scene, and gave them a hilarious run for their money! I salute them, both for their brave unwillingness to allow such outdated dogma to spew, and for their use of the power of love and laughter to overcome!
(I cut & pasted this report directly from the Neatorama site - full credit and link are at the end of this post)



Unfortunately for [VNN] the 100th ARA (Anti Racist Action) clown block came and handed them their asses by making them appear like the asses they were.


Alex Linder, the founder of VNN and the lead organizer of the rally, kicked off events by rushing the clowns in a fit of rage, and was promptly arrested by 4 Knoxville police officers who dropped him to the ground when he resisted and dragged him off past the red shiny shoes of the clowns. http://www.volunteertv.com/home/headlines/7704982.html


“White Power!” the Nazi’s shouted, “White Flour?” the clowns yelled back running in circles throwing flour in the air and raising separate letters which spelt “White Flour”.


“White Power!” the Nazi’s angrily shouted once more, “White flowers?” the clowns cheers and threw white flowers in the air and danced about merrily.


“White Power!” the Nazi’s tried once again in a doomed and somewhat funny attempt to clarify their message, “ohhhhhh!” the clowns yelled “Tight Shower!” and held a solar shower in the air and all tried to crowd under to get clean as per the Klan’s directions.


At this point several of the Nazi’s and Klan members began clutching their hearts as if they were about to have a heart attack. Their beady eyes bulged, and the veins in their tiny narrow foreheads beat in rage. One last time they screamed “White Power!”


The clown women thought they finally understood what the Klan was trying to say. “Ohhhhh…” the women clowns said. “Now we understand…”, “WIFE POWER!” they lifted the letters up in the air, grabbed the nearest male clowns and lifted them in their arms and ran about merrily chanting “WIFE POWER! WIFE POWER! WIFE POWER!”



And in parting, I quote freely from Mark Twain, whose unfinished book, 'The Mysterious Stranger', summed it up perfectly, over one hundred years ago:



"Will a day come when the race will detect the funniness of these juvenilities and laugh at them--and by laughing at them destroy them?
"For your race, in its poverty, has unquestionably one really effective weapon--laughter. Power, Money, Persuasion, Supplication, Persecution--these can lift at a colossal humbug,--push it a little-- crowd it a little--weaken it a little, century by century: but only Laughter can blow it to rags and atoms at a blast.
Against the assault of Laughter nothing can stand."
-Mark Twain, 'The Mysterious Stranger'


http://www.neatorama.com/2007/09/03/clowns-kicked-kkk-asses/

A Wonderful Autumn, full of Love and Fun!

Mark and I had a blast as usual, filled with fun, songs, friends, food, and more love than I ever could have imagined. Here is a photo of us taken at the Halloween show the Exotic Ones and Secret Commonwealth put on this year in Nashville.

Like our motto says: Growing older is mandatory, but growing up is optional!

Halloween tales, pumpkins, friendship, and midnight dancing...

And oh, it was wondrous, indeed!

The Last One Out (the Halloween play our friend, John Davis, wrote and directed) saw a sold-out performance last night at Encore Theater. 

Our freshly carved Jack O'Lanterns and corn stalks await you at theater's entrance

The Secret Commonwealth played live before the show and during intermission. People in the audience laughed, gasped, cried, and laughed again... reliving their own childhoods and coming-of-age in a magical two hours among mutual friends and family. 

John Davis, the maker of magical things

I'm sad that the play's run ends today, but am so proud of John for bringing it to life.

The awesome cast of The Last One Out takes a final bow

Needless to say, Mark gave the show a remarkable and poignant performance as the narrator/grown up version of Jack Daves. Honey, I salute you, and am proud beyond words. Kisses and huggies!

Stopped by two pumpkin patches yesterday on our way out to the show and in the late afternoon autumn sunlight, was bedazzled by the sights and smells and colors that can only be conjured properly during this time of year. The first one was in West Meade, the second, out in the beautiful countryside in Lebanon. Both were delightful! It was a perfect day for reveling amongst the gourds, too, with a dry, cool wind a-blowin' in the bluest of blue skies. 

Blue autumn skies and corn stalks and hay bales and pumpkins...these are a few of my favorite things!

I could live in a pumpkin patch all the time, surrounded by fat gourds, vivid buckets of chrysanthemums, and framed by the striking foliage hues. 

Pumpkins so numerous and colorful, lining up as if they were fat puppies waiting to be adopted.

So many fine, plump gourds! So little time. 

I'll take this one!

There were a few varieties I have not really seen before - namely, the 'Fairy Tale' (aka Cinderella pumpkin) type, which I am completely enamored with. They truly had a supernatural quality to them, and you can easily imagine Cinderella's carriage being transformed from one of them. 

The Fairy Tale pumpkin lives up to its moniker!

It came in several resplendent shapes and colors

Is it possible to fall in love with a pumpkin? Well, maybe not in the traditional sense, of course... but I did. Mark anticipates me bringing home at least a dozen of these exquisite specimens. I'm anxious to grow some of them as well, and will create another new pumpkin patch in our yard early next spring. 

Whimsical hay bales added a cute creative touch

Lest we forget - we carved our own pumpkins yesterday morning. What a joy that is. 

Let the fun begin!

If I could do this once a month (as opposed to just once a year), I'd be a much happier person. Not that I'm sad, mind you, I just derive so much pleasure from it!

Mmm! Guts!

We don't simply toss out the innards - nay! Our kitchen gets mighty busy as we cook plenty of marvelous dishes, from roasting the seeds, to harvest breads and muffins and even a Native American stew with pumpkin, sweet potato, onions and corn. Ahh, the smells emanating from the kitchen are hypnotic: cinnamon and allspice and ginger and nutmeg...

It nourishes both body and soul. 

Lighting the way in our kitchen

John's hearse emanated mystery and magic in anticipation of Halloween

Think good thoughts for my Yeti...

Yeti has an appointment with the veterinarian this morning. She's an old cat - 15 going on 16, but acts like the perennial kitten in so many ways. Lately she's been losing weight and her glossy, snow white fur is shedding rapidly. I know that older cats often develop thyroid problems. I'm hoping she gets a clean bill of health and will be with me for many more years to come. 

Yeti has been an exemplary friend to me over the years. She is more like a dog in so many ways, too - she'll listen to my verbal commands, play fetch, and follow me wherever I go, and back again. Her sense of being in tune with me is uncanny. I am very philosophical about life and death, but when confronted with the fact of her not being here one day, I feel... anxious and sad. Can't even think of it right now.

More later once we return from the vet.

Happy Birthday, Sweetheart!

A very Happy Birthday today to Mark, my husband, best friend, co-hort in all things serious and silly. You've never ever failed me, you've always been there for me... you are the one and only shining star in my existence, and I love you and cherish you more than words could ever convey. I must have finally done something right to deserve you in my life! 


Today is also St. Patrick's Day, and tonight we'll celebrate at Kimbro's Pickin' Parlor in Franklin, as our amazing friends, The Secret Commonwealth, rock the house with their spectacular Celtic music. Guinness shall be raised high and frequently!


Failte!

Thank you, thank you, thank you.

It was 50 years ago today...

To everyone who made turning 50 years young a special event for me.
You rock!!!

From the surprise party last Saturday night at Kimbro's Pickin' Parlor in Franklin, to the Secret Commonwealth (who really put on the most fantabulous show ever - particularly the specially-written song for my birthday), to everyone who spent time with me - it was awesome!!! The entire weekend has been one huge love-fest, from our dinner & movie Friday with Linda and Gary, to the show on Saturday, up till today, my actual birthday.

Wow. Warm fuzzies to the umpteenth degree. I'm incredibly blessed, and extremely humbled. I keep hearing Sally Field's emotional, post-Oscar winning voice in my head: "You like me... you really like me!"

Thank you to everyone...  dear Linda, Gary, Amanda, Jeffrey, John, Bernadette, Rod, Beth, Carl, Gwen, Michelle, Randy, Troy, Franko, Malin, Ron, Rob, Don..... the list goes on.... you know who you are, and you know how special you all are to me. I have never been happier in my  life, and you all are a part of it.

Most of all, words alone cannot begin to express my thanks to my husband... my Soul Mate, Mark - Mr. Poopy himself - for making this all possible. The specially-made cake (it was scrumpdillyumpcious), the songs, the marvelous outting to buy me all the fun, frivolous girlie stuff I like, the love you constantly show me... I'm gettin' all verklempt here again. You are my best friend, you are my heart. It may be snowing and freezing outside, but YOU are the coals in my fire, baby. I love you.

An Illuminated Frog

Because Life is beautiful... 

I had long wanted to create a new site where I could explore not only the beauty in life, but the truly good, under-appreciated "little things" with a lot of colorful visuals, music and inspiration. If you've ever had a crummy day and needed a pick-me-up to make you smile and feel better about things going on in the big bad world, then I'm hoping this site will provide that for you.

It felt really, really good creating it, even though I sat the entire day at my desk doing it and in the process made my already-sore back ache like crazy. A small trade off for the overall good, I guess! It features a lot of my personal photography and digital work, along with inspirational quotes, poetry, and feel-good stories. I have linked it to one of my favorite sites (SaveTheFrogs.com) because I have loved frogs and toads my entire life, and this site does all it can to educate the public about the good these wonderful little creatures do for our ecosystem, and how threatened with extinction they are fast becoming. I've vowed to contribute to their worthy cause in every way I can, and I hope you will, too.

The archetype of a frog sitting silently on a lily pad evokes a sort of mini Buddha, contemplating the mysteries of life as it seeks to be One with the pond (its universe) around it, which is why I chose to title my new site, An Illuminated Frog.

Frogs and toads have had an important place all throughout history, too. Native American lore tells of the frog as a great female spirit protecting the waterways, a fecund and sacred place of birth and rebirth (I love the water metaphors). The same beliefs were held by the ancient Egyptians as well, in their Nile frog goddess, Heget.

In Japan and China, they are symbols of good fortune. And colorful amphibians have long held the imagination and love of people in movies, books (my faves being The Tales of Beatrix Potter and Mr. Toad from Wind in the Willows) and animation - who doesn't love the Michigan J. Frog character from the old Warner Brothers' cartoon, Some Froggy Evening, who jumped up and sang "Hello my baby, hello my honey, hello my Ragtime Gal" only for his current owner?

To me, frogs and toads are simply magical creatures, capable of great transformation that we humans can only imagine of: from a tiny egg, to fish-like tadpole, to a four-legged adult that is at home both in the water as well as land... that really is magical!

As we humans struggle with our daily lives and beliefs and attempt to exist together in peace on the great Earth, so many of us dream of transforming into a better form of ourselves... 


This site will remain and continue, but in a more art-oriented direction, which was what it was initially set up to do. I kind of got off track with it, namely, as my husband and I were doing more ongoing decor and repair with our house (which, by the way, has two very awesome frog ponds that come to life during the summer here; as well as our downstairs bathroom being dedicated in decor to frogs, dubbed "The Frogatorium"), and we had several rounds of house guests over the year come to stay... I kind of put aside my hand-made artwork, which was supposed to be the main focus of The Quirk Shop. No worries, though, I'm back at the helm.

Please visit An Illuminated Frog... (clickable link) and see how beautiful life really is.

Hello, 2010. What brings thou here for us?

Wow. What a great intro to a new year indeed. We have our first snowfall of the winter season - about an inch or so of softly-packed powder has blanketed the area. Up here in the hills, we got hit a little harder than the lowlanders down in the city, but that's okay because I have a very warm and happy home to live in and don't need to leave the house for anything right now.

Most of yesterday, as the snow fell in furiously flurrying swirls all around, I spent at the window capturing photos of the birds that came in to gobble up the seeds I put out. From the bright red cardinals to a pack of boisterous blue jays to a red-headed woodpecker, the action never stopped. I even had to bundle up and trudge outside to add more seeds to the feeders to make sure every one of my feathered friends was well-fed. This photo on the right is the same view as the one from my previous post (Shiny, Bright and New) if you want to see the drastic seasonal comparison.

The opportunistic blue jays swooped in abundance to grab all the free food they could. I loved the juxtaposition of birds on a cat here! The cement cat statue was bought at Ronnie Lee Twist's awesome statuary shop in nearby Kingston Springs. If you live in the area or in Nashville in general, go visit him and his beautiful wife Nikki, they are the nicest people ever! The statuary they have for sale is amazing, but their art gallery is exquisite, full of handmade art by local artists. 

Our "StumpHenge" area by the old apple tree was frosted with a pristine coating of sparkly white snow. The lovely ornate cement bench in the center was also bought at Ronnie Lee Twist's statuary.A few of my photos were even used on our local TV channel's website (including the cardinal and house sparrow in the snowstorm here). How cool is that! 

(And another round of thanks to dear Mark Poopy Hubby for the awesome new camera he bought me. You see, babe, I am putting it to very good use!)

So much has already happened... where to start? Well let's see. I succumbed to a rotten chest cold that left me extremely hoarse. Sounding like Harvey Firestein has been a very interesting experience for me, to say the least. "I just wanna be loved. Is that so wrooooong?"
Ha ha. My head and chest were quite congested and the last thing I felt like doing was sitting at my computer, attempting to type an intelligent sentence as I continuously blasted snot into a never ending bunch of Kleenex... thus, my absence from the Internet. 

New Year's Eve was a very special occasion, as Mark and I spent it with a group of great friends over in east Nashville, at our friend Troy's home. It was a potluck dinner with lots of delicious food and drink. I was the designated driver, and let my dear Poopy have his turn to imbibe a few beers. Thank the heavens for these wonderful people! An artistic, eccentric and intelligent bunch of kooks with much kindness abounding.

We've come to love them dearly (thank you, Linda, Ethan, John, Gwen, Troy, Amanda, Carl, and the rest - y'all know who you are!) and are so thankful for all the niceness they've shown us. Isn't that what life is all about? Being good and kind to others is simple and should come easily. Why does drama and bullshit have to happen with some people? My theory is, they're addicted to it and can't function without it. 


I'm glad I don't have any of that in my existence. I've learned to embrace joy instead of clinging to strife, and have long espoused the elements of "the laws of attraction" which have worked marvelously for me over the years. Once you rid yourself of the negative baggage you drag around, magical things happen, and that's a fact.

Have you seen AVATAR yet? Your thoughts?

I truly enjoyed it. We saw the 3-D version and were blown away. Visually, it was stunning, and James Cameron's technical CGI wizardry will likely be rewarded come Academy Awards time. The story itself is basic (greedy humans trying to steal away from a native race who live as one with the land) and, sadly and embarrassingly, holds close to many parallels of the white European settlers coming to the US and taking away the land and lives of the native Americans. 

Okay - a mini rant here. I promise to make it short and as sweet as possible. Why do humans have to be selfish and greedy? Why do they trample over things that are sacred all for the sake of acquisition (often in the name of their particular god)? My Hubby, in his infinite wisdom, calls it "the bug in the human software," meaning, they are flawed and have that horribly misplaced sense of entitlement and just take, take, take. Greed is an awful thing, and when you add unlimited, uncontrolled power in to that, you have a truly poisonous mixture that removes all traces of the good and pure human element. 

But back to AVATAR. My typical morning ritual consists of reading a particular website (Crystalinks.com, a really cool and informative science/metaphysical one I've been reading for over ten years, and have learned a lot from) whilst gulping down my vat of coffee as I aim to get my brain kicked in gear. This morning, I noticed an image on her site from the movie that sparked something in me. The main character, and overall theme of the movie, bore a lot of similarities to a painting I had done way back in 1995 when I was still living in Hollywood. I put the images side by side to compare and was more than a little struck by those similarities. From the background imagery of the high-reaching world tree and connective web, to the character's overall look with ear piercings, dreadlocked hair and bejeweled decor, I venture my humble opinion: Very, very interesting indeed! Cameron must've tapped into the same general well of Universal consciousness as I. 

Heh heh.

I present here for your scrutinization. 

   

This is the painting in its entirety. 

Below is the image from AVATAR alongside a close-up of my painting. You can click on them to enlarge in a new window.

***UPDATE!***


I sent an email in to Ellie Crystal at Crystalinks.com and told her about my painting above. She was impressed enough that she used it on her site! Seems I indeed must have tapped into the same well, aka "The Grid" (what I earlier termed "The Universal Consciousness") as Cameron. Below is a screen capture taken from the pages of today's Crystalinks site (click on it to enlarge in a new window). http://www.crystalinks.com/avatar2010.html/

***UPDATE - 1/11/10***


There was another update there in regard to my painting/In The Grid posting - this one tying in the ancient Egyptian goddess, Hathor.