Crossing lines.

colorfulcoloradoHer eyes watch me blankly as I turn each page and she nods her head occasionally as I narrate  — like she somehow knows that nodding is the expected response.  But the faraway look in her eyes tells me she doesn’t know what I’m narrating for her or who I am.

Little Red Riding Hood was the queen of scrapbook and photo album organization, and for that I am truly grateful.  I enjoy finding new photos that I’ve never seen with her on my weekly Wednesday visits at her house.  Her walking has become unsteady, so Wednesdays I now go to her. She watches curiously as I snap a photo or two with my phone.

I continue to try to spark something in her eyes with old photos like I was able to it seems like just months ago. But Alzheimer’s has now almost completely robbed us of those rare moments of connection, stealing so much more these last few months.

colorfulcolo

Many of the photos and mementos we go through page by page bring back such a rush of memories and I would love to talk to her about those moments and scenes from our lives.  Or to my sister. There are so many photos of the three of us.

It’s these moments when I can feel my heart getting squeezed by something deep within me and wrapped in blanket of bittersweet loss.  That’s when I realize I’m holding my breath and that I need to put the albums away until next time.

I remind myself to breathe as I place the albums back on the dusty shelf and shake off the sad like my dog shakes the water off  her back after a bath.

This old photo of my grandparents brought a smile to my face as I remembered taking this same shot of my boys as we crossed the state line on the day we moved to Colorado when my boys were so young just nine short years ago.   I never knew this grandfather but my youngest son carries his name — both of them in the right of these pictures. Who knows, maybe my Mom, little Miss Historian, took the picture of my grandparents.

Life is one transition after another in so many ways.  Some big, some small, some full of joy and some full of sadness, and many a little of both.  The challenge is knowing how to embrace each transition and carry through what we learn to the next one. And to do it with grace.

Facial Fuzz Friday

See page for author [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

See page for author [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

My friend who I have known since grade school called me in horror yesterday, laughing and shrieking at the same time as I picked up the phone.

She had just been to her regular aesthetician for a quick eye brow shaping when the woman explained to her that it was time for a chin wax.  She was horrified.

After our call, I opened the community paper to a lengthy article by a regular humor columnist about midlife facial hair and her disastrous experiences with facial microplaning after her daughter told her that her face was furry like their puppy.

And then there’s Little Red Riding Hood’s  “fu manchu”  beard, as  I call it.  Mom’s Alzheimer’s is in full-on fast forward motion (so much so that it’s been hard for me to even think about writing about it lately) and I can hardly bear the frightened look she gives me when I come at her with the scissors to trim her little grouping of silver chin hair.  She would be mortified if she realized, but I’m not sure terrified is much better at this point.  Trust me, I question this judgement call for reasons I’ll explain later.

At my request, MacGyver installed a lovely 5000- power lighted magnification (I’m exaggerating a bit) cosmetic mirror in my bathroom.  And I’m telling you, if I catch my reflection too early in the morning at that strength, I’m convinced Sasquatch is in my bathroom.  I’m tempted to rip that puppy back off the wall, but it might hurt MacGyver’s feelings.

This midlife physical change thing baffles me.  And to be coincidentally timed right as we lose our near vision … so that we can’t even notice our facial fuzz and fur?  Now that’s just cruel.

I’ll add this post to my vanity diaries. I know I’m lucky to even have hair and to be alive to notice.

But I’m even luckier to have close friends who have sworn to me in blood that if I end up not realizing that I have fu manchu facial hair at some point one day, they will chase me down with tweezers in hand, no matter what.

Deep thought Friday … Is your compass in tune?

Katharine-Hepburn

“We are taught you must blame your father, your sisters, your brothers, the school, the teachers – but never blame yourself. It’s never your fault. But it’s always your fault, because if you wanted to change you’re the one who has got to change.”

― Katharine Hepburn

An old friend posted this on Facebook today and I had to share it because it is spot-on.

So many times in the world we find excuses and others to blame, when it is in our power to make a decision to change just about anything in our lives.  We are the ones steering our own ship, deciding how to take the waves – head-on or at an angle, with a course, or without.

We decide how to allow others to treat us. If we let ourselves get taken advantage of or treated like we don’t deserve, it’s because we need to look inside and figure out how to set boundaries. And better understand our self-worth.

We decide whether to allow circumstances to affect us in a negative way, or to use them to help spur our emotional our growth and move us forward.

We decide what excuses will impede our goals.  When we say we’re too busy or “it just won’t work,” we are making a choice.

We decide how that guy in traffic who cut us off will make us feel.  Or how someone who was dishonest, who hurt our feelings, or who was even downright creepy, will make us feel. We have a choice … to carry that around with us or throw it overboard.

Compassion and self-awareness are points on our compass.  And sometimes it takes a painful event or two in life to help us establish these bearings.

One thing is for certain, stepping out of ourselves and looking in objectively is the only way to chart our true course.

Here’s to another inspiring bad-ass of a woman who said it right.

Out of the Blue …

swirlMade it out of the blue and the brown … not a drop of brown or blue paint can be found on this latest funky painting.

As far as being out of the blue … ever have ideas come to you out of the blue?

My best ideas for writing usually come to me in the shower.  And therein lies the problem, as I am usually far away from my computer or notepad and clearly soaking wet. And then there’s something about stepping over that shower threshold after a shower that sometimes wipes my memory bank clean.

I decided to turn to my trusty Amazon in search of a solution — or of the discovery that a solution didn’t exist and my goldmine of an invention (a waterproof notepad) awaited.  Not surprisingly, I  found a nifty waterproof notepad and pencil set which sticks onto the shower wall so that I can capture ideas before they are lost. It’s absolutely genius.  I love it.

Where to you get your best ideas?  Any tricks for remembering them later?aquanote

Tell me your secrets.

peptoI’ve been blocked with my writing for the last week, so I’m trying something different today. Also, since my parents are coming this week to stay with my kids while we are away, a few of these things have been on my mind as I assess the areas of my house that might frighten outsiders.

Below are some random household and life challenges for which I would love any ideas or secret tips. How do you:

blueberries

1. Keep your medicine cabinet looking somewhat organized? (Mine is actually pretty organized by type but still looks like a nightmare.)

2. Clean and store vegetable and fruit and keep them visible enough to remember to eat them before they go bad? (Do you clean them before you put in fridge or clean as you eat them?)

3. Maintain a neat and orderly physical desktop while not forgetting about papers requiring action? (I am a stacker but the visual chaos unnerves me at the same time.  There has to be a happy medium.)

4. Keep the incoming mail/ junky area in your kitchen organized?

5. Remember to take your eco-friendly fabric grocery bags with you into the store?  I’ve tried keeping in the car, on hooks inside my laundry room door where I can see them, all to no avail.  Every time I get to the register I could have had a V8  and realize that I forgot my bags once again (as the checker and bagger shoot me looks of disdain and the plastic bags begin to rustle).bag

6. Unblock your writing (when you’re not feeling inspired and you’re worried you’ve forgotten how to write)?

7. Drink more water?  (I’m surprised I function with as little H2O as I consume).

8. Exercise regularly with no excuses?  (I go through bouts of great routine exercise but then when I fall off the rails, why is it so hard to get back at it?  Need ideas.)

9. Make yourself write on a regular basis? (The public challenges I proclaim (like the 100 day gratitude experiment) have worked for me.  But how many challenges can one really do?)

10. Find easy recipes.  Anyone have a website or app they love?

Georgia on My Mind…

GeorgiaOKeeffemusic
“I’ve been absolutely terrified every moment of my life and I’ve never let it keep me from doing a single thing that I wanted to do.”
“I have already settled it for myself, so flattery and criticism go down the same drain and I am quite free.”

― Quotes by Georgia O’Keeffe

O'Keeffehands

Oh how I would have loved to have met Georgia O’Keeffe.  From what I’ve learned about her over the years, she was an inspiring bad-ass of a woman.

And now some of her works are being installed in Denver for an exhibition coming at the end of this month.  I am giddy.

desertokeeffeskyscraperOne of the greatest American artists of the 20th century and the very first female American Modernist painter, O’Keeffe didn’t play by any established rules.  She made her own.  Gotta love that.

skullShe was born in Wisconsin in 1887 and knew and told others that she wanted to  be an artist by the eighth grade. (And now that I too am obsessed with Downton Alley, I’m picturing O’Keeffe starting her career during that period since the dates are close. This makes her even more inspiring to me.)

I had the great pleasure of seeing the largest collection of her work in the world years ago at the Georgia O’Keeffe Museum in Santa Fe.  I remember one painting so huge – an entire wall – of rich, vivid clouds that it literally took my breath away. (She said she painted her skies and clouds so large so the world would see them the way she did.)

A college friend gave me a print of her Music in Pink and Blue (top painting in post) which was proudly displayed in every college house where I lived.

O’Keeffe created her own style of art, blending abstraction and realism, along with cropping techniques she saw in photos, to create iconic paintings of the American artistic landscape. Her huge-scale abstract flowers, her bold 1920s New York City skylines, and her intoxicating perspectives of the deserts, bones and skies of New Mexico… are simply unmistakable.
mynameisgeorgia
What’s your favorite O’Keeffe painting?
PS: if you ever want to give a wonderful and unique gift to a child, the book  “My Name is Georgia” by Jeanette Winter is a wonderful illustrated book about being daring enough to pave your own path.

How to Recognize a Close Encounter of the Personal Kind.

space invader

You know who I’m talking about.

Those people who get so close to you that you almost feel their breath on your neck as you stand in line at the grocery store, post office or drug store.  Anywhere there is a line with people who think that you’re too slow and they’re more important,  or who were seriously raised by parents who did not teach them about respecting the personal space of others.

This often takes place as I am paying and I want to offer them a piece of gum out of my purse since they can see inside it so well.

A grown man in the next line over at the store yesterday was so up in this lady’s business and being such a spaz about it that I could feel the energy in the next lane over. (This photo does not do the situation justice and I was trying to be discreet.)  I wanted to ask him if he had to use the restroom or something since he seemed in such a hurry.

Often these space invaders have one hand on their hip, their arms crossed or even their legs crossed like this guy.  And some sighs and heavy breathing might take place. Sometimes body odor.

Naively, I always think that making some dramatic eye contact with a semi-sneer will make it clear to them that they are invading my space and they need to back off.

Or sometimes I think that if I just hold my ground and not move a single inch until I’m good and ready, they’ll get the message.

I’ve even tried slightly backing up to throw them off, to no avail.

I always want to say something like “You seem like you’re in a hurry since you’re up so close and personal with me right now, want to go ahead of me?  Or do you just want to get to know me better?”  Or “You seem like you need a hug … is that why you’re getting so close?”   But I worry that I would start something that I’m physically unable to carry through.

Any attempts I make to help space invaders realize that they are bucking  this social norm are futile.  I’m baffled.  Or maybe I’m delusional to think that I can really change another human being’s behavior? ( Logically I know this to be the answer but I still love to analyze it.)

How do you handle Close Encounters of the Personal Kind?  Any tips?

Silent in the company of sisters.

20130206-122351.jpg

At weekly yoga class.

Two sisters, there each week.

Next to each other, happy and harmonious.

Could be twins, alike but different enough.

One comment starts the chatter all around the room,

How lucky they are to have a sister nearby to enjoy.

I nodded silently as I agreed,

Tamping pangs of envy down deep.

Then one by one … the others lamented over their sisters faraway,

Poor them.

I had a choice,

Bring down the entire room with “Bummer, mine died.”

And freak everyone the hell out,

Or keep quiet.

I chose the latter.

Act first, think later. Story of my life in 5 examples.

CreativeLeap

Photo from http://design-seeds.com, a really cool site I just discovered.

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Act first. Think later.  Story of my life. Luckily it’s working relatively well for me so far. My dad does it too, and even admits it, so I come by it honestly.

This ‘creative leap’  idea is how I justify it.  Similarly, I enjoy any quote about procrastination being a good thing.

Here are some examples of how this is the story of my life:

1. Hanging pictures –  Not sure if I’ve ever used a ruler or tape measure when hanging things on any walls – and I have a LOT on my walls.  This makes many people CRAZY.  (And I love it.)

2. Painting –  When I have gone to those places where you paint as a group while you have a cocktail, and everyone paints the same stroke with the same color in the same order, I go for the wine and pretend like I’m following directions or like I’m just confused. The conformists in these groups whose paintings look exactly like the teacher’s painting in the end always look at my painting with sheer disdain and disbelief. Once someone told me that my painting of wildflowers might indicate that I need therapy.  (Which tells me that it’s good.)

3. Trimming  – As in my bangs, or anything I’m cutting for that matter.  Again, I don’t measure or think it out too much when cutting ribbon, fabric, dog hair, my hair, etc. This has not ended well on several occasions. (Starting at age five when I gave my doll and I a haircut at the same time using my dullest kindergarten scissors.  Also in college when I used to make my own wrap skirts – my room mates are still laughing.)

4. Giving my opinion – How boring and untrue would I be if I edited my opinion before I spoke of it?  Besides, it would take far too long and I would get distracted by the time I thought it through and then I’d forget my point.  I’ve gotten in trouble with this one.  (Fortunately those who love me can handle it.)

5. A plethora of injuries, bruises and cuts at all times – Whether I’m carrying sixteen things down the stairs to save time, or teetering on the edge of a chair because I don’t want to take the time to find a ladder, or using a knife that is dull.  You get the idea.  (Luckily I still have all my digits.)

Do you ever act first and think later?