The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes.
- Marcel Proust




Monday, August 20, 2012

Pet Portraits

Walli & SitaWalli & SitaLenaLenaVidaVida
PhoebePhoebeZoeyZoeyHorseHorse
GracieGracieKetchumKetchumGigiGigi
CassieCassieCaseyCaseyBredeBrede

Pet Portraits, a set on Flickr.

My blog photo gallery is under construction. Meantime, you can see my pet portraits here. Don't YOU need a keepsake of your constant companion?

Monday, August 6, 2012

Premium Business Cards by Vistaprint

I hope you will come back soon for my latest musings about the gift of Reiki (and other stuff).

Thursday, February 16, 2012

Heeeeere's Mojo!

Hey! It's been a long time, eh? After that last message (June 2010!) I took grandson Austin to Nova Scotia and back: 6,000 miles in 6 weeks. Whew! That's a long trip for an ADHD 12-year-old but he was a good soldier, and so was Nanny. I had to plan every waking minute to keep him from being bored, which was quite a change from my usual trip-planning routine. But we had a ball and got LOTS of pictures, which I have put into three albums for Austin to remember it by. To the left is a Nova Scotia sunset.

So that takes us to August 2010. After that I traveled back to the Pacific Northwest, with many stops along the way (and the best caverns I saw in all my travels: Caverns of Sonora, Texas). I spent a very snowy Christmas in Seattle then moved on to Portland for about four months. I made some great new friends, reacquainted with my old pals Glea and Sue, and thought about settling down right there.

But then May 2011 came and it was still cold and rainy. Hmmm...

My friends back in Asheville were enjoying some really fine spring weather and I just couldn't resist. I sold Michelle (got 10 calls the first day she was listed on Craigslist), shipped my stuff and flew back to Asheville.

And here I am, living in a historic building downtown (photo left) with a bunch of old folks. Well, I fit right in, although I am surely one of the youngest residents. I love it.

I have my daughter's dog, Mojo, here with me and he is an essential part of my new routine. If it weren't for him I wouldn't be getting nearly as much exercise, and that pain in my hip would surely be more bothersome.

I haven't decided whether or not to continue this blog as I don't have much to report and I'm not really interested in "waxing philosophical" about the joys and sorrows of old age. I'm not especially political, and even though I could probably write an amusing account of life at Battery Park Apartments, I'm not sure I want to use my energy in that way.

All this to say that this may be the end of the road, except for my pet portrait business, which I am going to try to market (again), although as I see those words on the screen, it makes me shudder. I love doing art but not selling art. A wise person once said we should do what we do and pay others to do what they do, so maybe that is the key for me: pay someone to do the marketing. Trouble is, of course, that I don't have money to pay someone and won't have money until I sell some art. Catch-22.

Anyway...hope your life is all you want it to be. If you're ever in downtown Asheville, stop by. Mojo and I are usually here.

Sunday, June 6, 2010

Mindlessness: What Happens When You Don't Pay Attention


I'm having one of those days (no, that's not really me in the photo). I made a great new vegan recipe--Noodles in Thai Curry Sauce--in my current host's kitchen (air conditioned), put in into a bowl he had sitting on the counter so I could take it outside to eat, dropped what turned out to be his grandmother's bowl, broke it and dumped out all the great food I'd just made all over the back steps.

A few minutes ago grandson Austin called to ask why I wasn't there to pick him up for the play I promised to take him to at 4:00 (it was 3:57)...sigh...I was really sad until he called back and invited me to come over for tacos at his house (a favorite of mine) but then I remembered that I don't eat meat any more. Sheesh. Guess I'll just have to stop by the store for some tofu on the way. Things are looking up.

Tuesday, May 11, 2010

Poetry Saturday


The third annual Asheville WordFest happened last weekend. When I saw in the newspaper that there would be a Poetry Scavenger Hunt on Saturday (what might that be?), I called grandson Austin to see if he wanted to join me.

I didn't bother to tell Austin about the poetry part, just that "an event" was being held downtown at the Thomas Wolfe Memorial. Author Thomas Wolfe's boyhood home, which he immortalized in his novel Look Homeward Angel, is a favorite destination for Austin and me. One of the things he and I have had in common since he was about eight years old is visiting old houses and other historical sites. We've seen the log cabin birthplace of Civil War-era North Carolina governor Zebulon Vance. We've been through the house and grounds of the Biltmore Estate. And we both like to hear the story of how young Thomas Wolfe didn't know if he would have a place to sleep in his mother's boarding house on any given night, the house often being filled to capacity with paying strangers.

The Poetry Scavenger Hunt turned out to be a search for inspiration and ideas that would become a poem. We were sent out into the crisp morning air, on foot, with strict instructions to find three things each that came through our five senses. I immediately conjured up a favorite morning taste and smell, and suggested we find a coffee shop. Austin was agreeable and we set off.

The first place we came to was actually a favorite all-day breakfast restaurant, but the wait was 30 minutes (it being Saturday at 10:30 a.m., time for the Friday night crowd to be wanting their first meal of the day) so we moved on. Another place I had in mind had closed for good (Asheville is a town in flux even in the best of economic times), but just up the street was a place I knew would be perfect: lots of sights, sounds and smells.

It didn't take long, over coffee and lemonade, for us to have our list of 15 items completed. Then it was back to Wolfe House to put it all together into a poem. Here's the result:

The Coffee Shop

Mmm, coffee and brownies,
With sausage thrown in:

Three of the best smells.

Sour lemonade

In a cold, icy glass.

Conversation between families

All around.

The juicer, like a lawnmower,

Cuts greens into a glass
For the lady in the

Yellow and orange flowered pants.

The coffee maker gargles,

Rich and dark,

Into a warm mug,
Bringing good breakfast memories.
The kaleidoscope floor makes me happy.

Later, in the evening, the poetry continued at a downtown church. My morning poetry pal was not with me and I wished I had invited him because he might have enjoyed it. Mark Doty was there, and Pulitzer-winner Natasha Trethewey, along with a local favorite, performance poet and educator Glenis Redmond. The last poet was Flying Words Project, a duo: one hearing and one deaf who told poems in sign language. It was a wonderful experience, but it couldn't touch making a poem with Austin in the coffee shop with the kaleidoscope floor.