Oh, to blog! perchance to dream!
HAPPYHAPPYHAPPYHAPPY! this is one of my top three best Christmas presents for sure!*
The site has been down for various reasons, all of them to do with natural disasters and the lack of money that comes with them.
To catch you all up - while the site is still up (and Kevin, I will call you on Tuesday, as soon as the holiday is over and get square with you. BLESS YOU! :D Thank you!), on October 7, I was in Myrtle Beach with Chris, it was our anniversary weekend, and he had to go on this loathsome Bike Week shoot, so i decided to go with him so we could be together and lessen the overall yuck of the job. Things were tight-ish (slow at the gallery, and I'd just started taking on more days there...) so Chris' sweet folks lent us 50$ for a nice seafood dinner while we were there (no, W!@V did not give him any allowance. The didn't WANT to pay for a hotel room, but instead to try to get a room with strange biker women. Hm.***). We started 'rolling' around 11am. The day was cold, there were drunken bikers EVERYwhere, it was souvenir strip-mall hell, there were issues with the talent - it was hard to maintain the perky - but we were doing ok. We knew that at 6:30pm we were OUTTATHERE and on our way to a good seafood dinner, then a long drive home with our lovely Tamagachi (Chris' mp3 player, loaded with all our faves...). HOWEVER, at about 6 pm, I was standing inside a booth, actually, inside, in-between TWO booths, tents, one with little handmade hats and the other was a guy who sold clothing and patches and did patch stitching on an antique Singer. I was just pointing the hats out to Chris when I heard someone yell "HEY! HEY!" and I turned just in time to see a man coming toward me on a motorcycle. He hit me head-on, knocked me about 4 feet through the air - and several boxes full of beer - so I got to land on tarmac, amidst broken beer bottles - yippee. The man got off of his 1938 Indian motorcycle (which he parked carefully after hitting me) and and then rushed over and pulled me up off the ground. He said "God, it's a good thing you've got a few extra pounds on you!" and then the fun began...
Needless to say we spent all evening in the ER, i was beer-wet and cold the whole time, and though they x-rayed me thoroughly they did no internal injury checks. Then they doped me up and sent me on the 5-hour ride home - which turned into 10 hours because Chris was so exhausted, and I was unable to drive or stay completely awake, so we spent a couple of hours here and there sleeping on the roadside.
The next two weeks were tough. In pain, out of work, unable to care for myself and Chris unable to miss work to care for me. If it weren't for my girlfriends, the beloved Valkyries, i don't know what I'd have done... Finances started slipping more, I couldn't even do my jewelry work, much less manage the shop. Our computer was down, so I had to outsource all my press work, and then Chris got the shingles. Despite the pain, he never missed a day of work, and kept pushing through, because things were getting so lean. A little over a month later - I had been sitting the shop for two weeks and starting to get mobility/feeling/coordination back enough to do my work - we went on our first outing since the accident. We went to the Charlotte ren-faire with the Stewart and the kids. It was a nice day. We got home late-ish, and right as we were heading to bed, there was a bright flash, the walls began to sizzle, the lights got brighter and then all of our electronics exploded. Let me just say at this point that there was MAJOR freakage on my part. We were trapped inside a dark, sizzling, smoke-filled house - with both of our animals - and couldn't go outside because of the live wire sizzling on the ground outside. The wind had dropped a limb and knocked out our ground wire. The firemen came and told us that it wasn't safe to live there (this was less than 2 weeks before Thanksgiving) anymore.
O' the freakage had only just begun.
SO. We began to pack up my life of the last 8 years. I've never lived anywhere longer. I was still feeling the effects BEING HIT BY A !@#$ MOTORCYCLE****, Chris was struggling to work more than full time and help me cope with the disaster. The computer - which we had JUST had Kevin repair - the TV, DVD player, etc - everything that was plugged in - were destroyed, and we had no place to put all our stuff, no place to comfortable be together... it was pretty damned bad.
We kept working though, and good fortune sent us a comfortable rental with a woman willing to lower the rent to help us. We had to borrow money from his parents to pay the rent because my landlord had already spent all of our Nov. rent (this happened on the 12th) and all the money Chris had made in overtime working at both stations full time in the summer was in our propane tank (and we thought we were being so smart..) at the old house and he was unable to reimburse us for that as well. About a week after we moved in Chris' car - our only working vehicle at the time (the Duke power guys and our neighbor had to PUSH my truck across the road at 2 am on the night of the !@#$ because it wouldn't start... that was a low moment, lemme tellya.) - just died. Engine froze. Never to be repaired. Two days after that, his boss called him in EARLY to fire him. Our power never got reconnected in the new place (they claim we never called), so when our new landlord had her name taken off - as we asked her to do per the Duke Power instructions from the call they claimed never happened - they charged us 250$ to reconnect.
...
...
...
As they say, when you're at the bottom, there's only one direction...
I started working my @$$ off because Christmas is a good time for my work. We both started taking any and all part-time work we could get, and feeling thankful that we had some choices.
We started saving, we made some phone calls and found another car that we were able to 1/2 pay, 1/2 barter for. We got my truck running, we were gifted with a tv and dvd player from a couple of good friends, and his parents gave us their old pc - all three of which are key to my work. I have been working from before sun-up to late every day making things to sell, doing commissions, making Christmas prezzies and working for The Shepherds' Feast, which is a Christmas day feast for any and all, with music and prezzies for children and poems and all good things. I'm tired, but it's been worth it. I'm really lucky that my work brings me so much joy. Chris has been working his @$$ off too, pulling all my slack. I took on extra delivery routes and baking days and babysitting, so Chris had to watch the shop and help make the Christmas prezzies and keep up the house and make sure I was eating. His family were more than kind and helpful and thanks to them and good commissions, we were able to fill the propane tank at the new house (which, by the way, is beautiful and big and full of light. I wish we could keep it. We have until April. If you know of any nice rentals, call us!). We have socked away enough for rent and basic bills for the next two months. We're not paying for the internet, we got rid of our storage place, we're using less gas - because we can walk to work every day. We have yet to pay back the parentii and the WebClaus, but they are on our list, and little by little, we are rebuilding our media empire. We were even able to splurge a little at Christmas. I used my generous and kind bonus from the bakery to buy myself a pretty pair of dress Keens (in black - so now i have summer outdoor ones, closed/winter outdoor ones - good for work and in the kitchen and dress ones! happy feet!) and Chris bought a ticket to Filmapalooza in March. We're saving for his plane ticket now, but his grandma lives in the city, so we don't have to pay for his room or car!
One of the things that has hurt me the most through all of this, was the loss of the computer - and specifically of my website. Not only was the computer essential to my work, but there are so many people with whom I can only reliably and inexpensively stay in touch through the 'net. I have felt starved for their contact. And I was able to see how much my website means to me as an ability to express myself and make sense of my life and the pain that comes at hard times, both new and remembered. The fire brought back hard old memories - the oldest, in fact. The moving, the desperation... and I could only reach out so far. It was hard. I intend to write my webhost - who has been a friend and has posted my page for little - really nothing - for years and see what I can do to thank him and reimburse him for this gift. It was so good to sign on (we're at Sarah's, Raven-sitting while she's away) and see messages to my blogspot... it made me feel REAL again.
I will do what I can to keep Sam's Day Off alive... 'cause it's plain to me how much Sam's Day Off helps keep me alive, and from the messages, some of you, too. Not only alive, but updated. Stewart has been promising me that as soon as we can, we will update, but neither hid not Kevin's kindness has been enough in the face of this steaming pile of adversity.
However, it's a new year, and I am blogging right now (HUZZAH!) and things are already looking better, so ONWARD AND UPWARD!
Thank you all! We love you and are grateful for you to the last molecule of us!
XOXOXOXOXOX
Sam and Chris and George and Luna
*Aunt Sue's happy news, my lovely warm shawl from M-O-L, and I'll put in Stewart's happy news to make it FOUR! Four best Christmas presents! *Oh, !@#$.* **
**Sorry Python joke.
***by the way, this is absolutely true.
****(his clutch broke, btw. I mean, the bike is !@#$ 68 years old, hello! AND he was being filmed by the !@#$ Discovery Channel when it happened. They INTERVIEWED ME - in THAT STATE. My !@#$ luck, huh?)
Sunday, December 31, 2006
Friday, June 02, 2006
To KF - who's birfday is actually tomorrow - June 3. :) There is a girl in the Kingdom of Loathing,
who’s pretty !@#$ 7337.
She’s 100% AdventuressQueen from her head down to her
She’s 100% AdventuressQueen from her head down to her
cute lil feet.
She’s Naughtier than Teh Sorceress
She’s Naughtier than Teh Sorceress
and Bossier than Teh Bat
(and of this I’m sure, because I know her well and she’s always stealing my hat!).
She gives good prezzy and she makes good jokes,
and whenever you’re down, she gives good “pokes”*.
She’s a whole lot sassy, a little bit sneaky,
- and when she hoses teh Yilf, it gets pretty squeaky,
it’s her birfday today, so let’s all be Geeky –
Celebrate! Get Kaos-Freaky!
(and of this I’m sure, because I know her well and she’s always stealing my hat!).
She gives good prezzy and she makes good jokes,
and whenever you’re down, she gives good “pokes”*.
She’s a whole lot sassy, a little bit sneaky,
- and when she hoses teh Yilf, it gets pretty squeaky,
it’s her birfday today, so let’s all be Geeky –
Celebrate! Get Kaos-Freaky!
MUCH love!D.L’O
*for non-adventurers, this is NOT a naughty thing.
*for non-adventurers, this is NOT a naughty thing.
Thursday, May 18, 2006
My 00100011 00110001 Girl*
By Sam Lovelace
This is part of the reason why I've been so quiet lately. I've also finished 70 new pieces of jewelry, two wishbooks, and painted 4 articles of clothing, plus done all the rack cards, business cards and tags for the shop and rack cards for Karen... not all that I wanted to do, but a good start. I still have to make her dress (she's going to have a clear plastic 50's sundress :) tomorrow and get her lights put in (her brain and heart light up - whee!), get all my jewelry tagged, get my display stuff in shape (it's together, i just need to dust and polish). The Saluda Arts Festival is this Saturday, May 20, from 10 - 7. Please come out - and wish us luck!
I've worked myself sick and silly, but every single second, even if my back was aching or my fingers throbbing, was a moment filled with love and joy and appreciation of my accomplish-ments. it's felt good to have other people '00' and 'ah' over my work (and to have Rick Conn shake my hand and congratulate me, as if i'd given birth, and talk shop with me as a serious fellow artist for the first time in all the years i've know him*** ee! :) but the best feeling is standing back from my work (or in one case, spreading all my beautiful jewelry out over the pale blue coverlet... :) and feeling my heart fill like a new well with satisfaction and pleasure. YAY!
I could never go back to YellowBureaucratRedTapeBrownNoseLand, and the way my commissions are stacking up, it looks as if I won't have to. :) (*knock wood*. psh, i think i'd start a !#$% boiled peanut stand or something before i'd go back to micromanagementhell - "i'd rather die on my feet than live reading memos!")
Ok, back to the grind... i have a 1:00 deadline today that can't be missed. :) Thank you all for supoprting me and encouraging me - and for buying my art! i'll post more pics of my botgirl when she's finished.
Much love,
-s.
*
01010100 01101000 01101001 01110011 00100000 01101001 01110011 00100000 01110100 01101000 01100101 00100000 00111000 00101101 01100010 01101001 01110100 00100000 01000001 01010011 01000011 01001001 01001001 00100000 01110100 01110010 01100001 01101110 01110011 01101100 01100001 01110100 01101001 01101111 01101110 00100000 01101111 01100110 00100000 01110100 01101000 01100101 00100000 01100010 01101001 01101110 01100001 01110010 01111001 00100000 01100011 01101111 01100100 01100101 00100000 01100110 01101111 01110010 00100000 00100010 00100011 00110001 00100010 00101110 **
**
This is the 8-bit ASCII translation of the binary code for "#1".
***not that this lovely, amazing man has EVER talked down to me, and he has always encouraged me, but let's face it, he's in a COMPLETELY different league than me. BIGtime. :)
Friday, April 21, 2006
we've had a strange tragedy touch us recently, and investigating it led me to read the blogs and live journals of some sad, desperate, broken, lonely - to the point of dangerous to themselves and others - people. i wrote this in response to that, as a prayer, as a message to people to ask for help, as a reminder.
A Prayer for Strength and Time
God make me a prayer wheel.
Let me be a drum that hums and sifts the sins of our imagining.
Let me be the etched, worn, scarred and resonant cymbal that sends the pleas of broken people to your infinite ears.
Let me be spun, and sung to, weathered by the hopeful pressure of all hands, each different, each worthy of at least one bid to Heaven.
Let me be a voice,
Let me be a vision,
Let me be a call to fall to one’s knees and weep, open-hearted in gratitude.
Let me be part of the subconscious tremor, deep and rhythmic as the night sky,
that breaks mountains and moves your Heart.
-s.l.lovelace 04/21/06
A Prayer for Strength and Time
God make me a prayer wheel.
Let me be a drum that hums and sifts the sins of our imagining.
Let me be the etched, worn, scarred and resonant cymbal that sends the pleas of broken people to your infinite ears.
Let me be spun, and sung to, weathered by the hopeful pressure of all hands, each different, each worthy of at least one bid to Heaven.
Let me be a voice,
Let me be a vision,
Let me be a call to fall to one’s knees and weep, open-hearted in gratitude.
Let me be part of the subconscious tremor, deep and rhythmic as the night sky,
that breaks mountains and moves your Heart.
-s.l.lovelace 04/21/06
Tuesday, March 28, 2006
Happy Birthday, Hypo Luxa!
Warning: the contents of this particular blog are only for very depraved and naughty individuals - especially those celebrating their birthday today! ;)
I hope you enjoy your prezzie, dear! I am in all of these pics (yes, even the one I like to call "Oops, How'd That Get In Here?" - that's my little hand there on the left. I'd just been knocked to the floor by a drunkiehumpling girlfriend and took the opportunity - camera always in hand - as I found it! :), and our dear Andalouse is in a couple of them too. These are from last years' Dragon Con, and yes, we were Reform School Fairies! ;D
I got up early this a.m. so you could begin your day/week/weekend of birthday-ness in the spirit of girls in vinyl dresses and black-tattered-pierced wings with tattoos, garter belts, black eyes and big, um, GRINS. Oh and people who like you, despite the fact that that they think you are a figment of their imagination. ;D
Have a good one, darlin'!
Much love (and more blue messages),
Much love (and more blue messages),
D.L'O
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
america by sl lovelace
Happy Anti-Valentine’s Day, CG. (I posted the whole thing, along with your KoL valentine, on my LJ page. I thought the geeks would enjoy it. There's also a nice link to some Star Wars valentineage... ;)
I wrote “We should show our love and appreciation EVERY day and not just on Feb. 14” on the vans’ back window this morning. Hee. Someone said it was the holiday specifically meant to make geeks feel even worse, and I’ve discovered a new level of valentine’s day suck – if you're seeing someone, and are any kind of a decent person, you feel bad for your single friends trying to maneuver their way through this ridiculous marketing scam-day too. Then there’s the whole pressure to spend and do if you are seeing someone. !#$% that. Chris used the “holiday” as an excuse to buy me a watch that I needed (under 20$) and I used it as an excuse to buy him the office supplies that he needed. Stuff we had to buy, anyway. I also did him a piece of art, which I will share with you as well. :) heheheh. I like the idea of a day really celebrating love, but why just romantic love? And because it’s romantic love, there’s all the stupid, formulaic present crap too. !#$%^&* it to !#$%!
What really sucks is that I LOVE the decorations/functions/clothes for this crap-ass bull$#*! holiday, of course I do! Hearts, lace, sparklies, flowers, ribbons, chocolate, red, pink, black, satin, velvet, lingerie, dances, whee! – ‘Pie Heaven! So I think that we should do two things. On Feb. 14, we should try to start a revolution and take the romantic strictures out of V-Day. We should celebrate Love day, love your whatever, mom, car, dog, self, girls called "Susie-Q" - all of the above, just celebrate Love, in whatever way (hopefully NOT supporting The Industry – if you want to go traditional, pick flowers, make a card, cook dinner – if you feel you have to buy, buy handmade and local...) - you see fit. Not everybody has a boy/girlfriend, but everybody has some love. This would be a good day to remind each other of that. If you think you don’t have any love go look for some other people – or creatures who might feel the same way. That will make them feel loved, and they’ll love you for it.
The OTHER thing we need to do – and this will help ze revolution – we should move the décor/lingerie/chocolate side of this stupid-ass-money-making-for-the-!@#$-flowercardcandycrap-corporation-so-called “holiday”* (I got your treats at a local $tree knockoff store, and some of it – like the ribbon, was leftover xmas! Yay!) TO MY BIRTHDAY – and the birthday of anyone who wants a champagne, chocolate-dipped strawberry (ok, in your case, hazelnut...), spa/facial/manicure, new lingerie, velvet, ribbons, hearts, flowers, dress-up, get sparkly, go out, go dance, go see a movie -etc. birthday! (Wow, wouldn’t it be cool to have a friend who’s birthday came on Love Day?**)
IT IS DECREED! ;)
VIVA LA REVOLUTION!
Happy Love Day. For what it’s worth, I love you. (to blogdom: well, most of you. Some of you are just gonna’ have to wait ‘til your birthday.)
Much love,
-;pie)
*which, as someone else pointed out to me today, you don’t even get off work...
**HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO WetRats! Now there’s a guy who needs a “spa day” and some chocolate*** if I ever saw one.
***not to mention his own birthday footnote.
Sunday, February 12, 2006
These pics are for Chris (Lorenalis, not X) and all of us who are missing summer tastes and smells and sights and sounds (not to mention the feel of warm sun on your skin, or warm night air under a full moon, with a big bite of cotton candy melting on your tongue...). Soon, soon!
And to you, Carol. :) You understand me. We are like two old lions. :)
Wednesday, February 08, 2006
Welcome to 'Your Arts Desire'...
Here are some pics to illustrate the nicer part of yesterdays' blog. There's the twig chair that sits by the door of the shop (that white wrought iron thingy in the window is one of my displays), and that's Linda, our founding mum standing out in our parking lot... she was being my photo assistant that day. Here are two of her pieces that I think really show her range of style, from whimsical and detailed, to primitive and spiritual. She also did our nice sign. The other day, she let me have some white porcelain to sculpt a hand and a neck to display my jewelry on, and now she says I should also do a sexy foot and ankle in a nice high-heel! I'm going to do a wedgie sandal so I can paint the toenails! :)I'll post some pics of other artists and my own work next, and I have a better pic of the storefront somwhere too.
Much love,
-Sam
Tuesday, February 07, 2006
Happy new year, everyone.
I know, it’s nigh mid-February, but you all know that sometimes, I need a good run-up. In some cases, as much as 37 years.
I’ve been thinking a lot since Christmas, about what this year might hold in store. Especially about the fact that I am creeping into 40 as a person that I’m not exactly proud to be. I love myself – but not enough. I like myself more than I love myself. Respect, admiration and love are most often NOT the same things. But there are so many things that I am sorry for and ashamed of. I am sorry that I am not a better friend (though I know that you all know that when I try and take the time, I give it my whole heart... Maybe that’s part of the problem – whatever I do I give it my whole heart, and while that is in my view, there is nothing else. I don’t think that means I have a narrow view. Sometimes (too often for my sanity’s sake) I can see and feel huge masses of the worlds’ pain, I feel like I’ve glimpsed the whole of it once or twice. But at those times, it is almost impossible to see ANYthing. I could cut off my hand and not notice.
I’m sorry that I’m not a better sister/niece/cousin. I’m sorry that I’m so bad at keeping in touch and keeping what are, to me, social promises. I think of my family and friends all the time. My closest family* and my closest friends** I think of every day, sometimes several times a day, but it is always while I am doing other things. Driving my mind and heart and body to not be still
I have discovered that I suffer from ... I suppose a kind of mania; maybe OCD of some variety, or maybe just finely tuned (or just highly strung) human nature ; but if I let myself get still and quiet for too long, I get deeply, messily, uncontrollably sad. (See, I am suddenly thinking about specific family members again...) It takes a lot of intense work to keep me distracted enough to not feel the whole of it. If I want to relax or ... not work, not be busy... I have to be either a little inebriated (a single glass of wine, thankfully, is enough to serve this purpose, though a martini or g&t upon occasion is nice.), or have something else occupying my conscious mind (a really good movie or book is the best) or else my unconscious mind will almost immediately collapse me into a screaming, crying, lying-on-the-bottom-of-the-tub, miserable heap. Not fun. Chris really hates it. Fishing me out of the tub, sobbing or trying to coax me out of the bottom of the closet are the worst. Ok, second worst. Sometimes I get mad instead of sad.
Of course, complete annihilation of the reality of my past and the awfulness the whole world over is not only unrealistic and detrimental, but it’s also a moral crime to ignore your own problems or any one elses, as well as ignore the true awful*** beauty of god’s creation. However, when one of your main problems is how suicidally hopeless and depressed you get when you allow yourself to be aware of the scope of others’ pain, things get a little tricky.
My art is the balance place. It’s the steam-valve. It’s where I can stay busy and vent my feelings. I can also use it to alleviate my financial struggle a little, and add a little art to some lives. I can spend the time when I am creating and venting meditating on what’s troubling me, or thinking about my loved ones or praying for the alleviation of the suffering of others. I thank the powers that be – even if those are just my !@#$%* parents’ lucky accidental genes – every day for the gift of my creative and learning ability, for without it I would be dead or worse.
This is still no excuse for not being a better sister, friend, niece, neighbor, correspondent, person-in-general. I don’t live as well or responsibly as I should. I am faaaaar from model citizen, I don’t think that Jesus cares if I’m a Christian or not****, I need to take better care of myself, I’m unacceptably judgmental and impatient – Christopher, I’m sorry a thousand times over every day – I’m a packrat and a bad housekeeper. I worry that kids will look up to me. I don’t listen as well as I should (but I promise you all that I listen MUCH more than it appears I do!). I’m stubborn, oh dear god, am I stubborn. I feel bad for all of my friends, and I really do try to rein in these terrible things, to control them and teach myself to feel differently about things.
My new years’ resolution last year was to not be such a doormat – to be more open about my true feelings. This made people laugh and I failed miserably on the only important count. (Do ask me about this sometime, Andi, when the mood is right, and you don’t have any heavy, blunt objects in your hand.) I know why Chris and others laughed, but I think I meant, along with being more open and honest, that I also wanted to try to be more gentle and kind and open-minded. *Phew*. This is how I know what a bad person I can really be, because I have been consciously trying to curb my terrible nature all year, and so I have been more aware. Again my friends, I am sorry.
This years’ resolution is to be less forward with my opinions. *Whew*. I am going to need energy bars, a suicide watch, and maybe my own little sherpa full of monks in the back yard. I haven’t abandoned last years’ either. I suppose the ultimate goal is to merge those two ways of being (as if I might even ever successfully achieve EITHER?) and so be spare in my judgment and opinions, and when I do speak, then people will hopefully know that I’ve really given it some thought, that it is important to me, and that I am truly meaning to be honest and kind.
The people I have been most sorry about not keeping in better contact with are Sandy, my siblings (Karly et al are siblings), Aunt Sue and Tedd. Especially Sandy. I feel like I should ask for forgiveness, but don’t really think that I should be forgiven, or that it would change anything. I simply have a hard time forcing myself to slow down (not to mention visit the past) for anything that isn’t within my peripheral vision. Even my friends here who live in Asheville, 45 minutes away and dear Sarah, who is just in the valley, and even Stewart of all people, have to call me and just sort of demand my time. In order to spend time with Sarah last night, I had to take my work over (making journals for channel 13 & the shop) and we put Corpse Bride on. I am happy to report though that work was abandoned, we half-watched the movie, vented and plotted and fantasized and laughed and talked art and inspiration, ate some pizza, looked at funny stuff on the ‘net. It turned out that the whole purpose for bringing my work stuff over was to inspire Sarah to get her art supplies in order, get her studio dusted out, and plan an art-supply (and club clothes! Woo!) shopping trip – yay! (Am not having to try too hard to comfort myself over the guilt of not getting some work done...)
[ok, Sue, Here’s the news for Alice! :]
And speaking of work, and how I'm keeping all my demons at bay, for those of you who don’t know (some folks have had a sneak preview), here’s what’s happening. I’ve been learning to cook in a gourmet restaurant since September (I started there not long before we auditioned for 'Greetings!'). It’s called Persimmons Bistro & Tea Room. I LOVE it. They cook world cuisine (which translates to: whatever suits chef/diners’ fancy). So we have sushi Tuesday and prime rib Thursday. Then there might be a wine dinner night with elk and boar, or maybe a little quail eggs and truffle oil. Fresh fish shipped from Hawaii each week, good cheeses, good wine, good crew. There’s a little tea room with pastries, good teas and coffees, cappuccino, espresso, and awesome lunches, hot and cold. Chili, potato leek soup, prime rib stew, “Pumpkin Molasses Bisque” mmmm!!! From simple chicken salad and curry chicken salad to whatever we feel like cooking. Chef always has some gorgeous chops or ham or chicken in there, Sara does the main chicken and pasta salads, and I handle the weirdies – thai coconut noodles, pasta jambalaya, mandarin roasted tofu kebabs, vegan salade nicoise – I like the spicy and foreign and healthy (believe it or not). My Indonesian rice salad (a variation on moosewood, nink) is my most popular, but my tofu kebabs and my bacon/sour cream/horseradish/chive potato salad are close. I spend two days a week there (T/W – I’m still delivering bread on Mondays. One of my stops is Persimmons. We make our own focaccia, but all of our sandwich bread is Wildflour. :) And spend sometimes half of Wed. and Thu. in the pastry kitchen with Ally. That is really an education. I have made some of the most beautiful, delicious deserts in the last several months, but there was a time when I would have honestly admitted that, though I can make some good stove-top soul food, a mean salsa, and even some damned good biscuits and corn bread, I was NEVER a baker. Too much precision and patience involved. Too much actual measuring and mixing - too delicate. I couldn’t even really do a good job on boxed cakes. But having a good place to work and learn, a good range of well-organized ingredients, and a very skilled and patient teacher can make a lot of difference. There is a lovely zen to baking, and it is, beyond a shadow of a doubt, an art.
Debi even asked me if I’d guest-chef a brunch at the Wildflour this season.
Wow.
I get off work early enough on M/T/W/T that if I need to work on jewelry, commissions or whatever pending projects I have, I can get things settled in the house, have dinner with X, then set up my work tables in front of the couch and he and I can watch a movie while I bead or draw or whatever.
Then on Fridays, I get up and drive to Saluda with Chris and my little suitcase, we have a nice breakfast at the bakery, and then I take my little key, and go through the courtyard, past the other pretty little shops (The Brass Latch and The Gardeners Cottage – mm!) and unlock the door to OUR OWN SHOP – “Your Arts Desire”. My friend Linda got the bright idea to start an artists’ co-op in Saluda. When we began, there were 6 of us. Now there are 14, and the shop is beautiful. We are all paying our shop bills and making a profit on top of that. The ‘founding members’ all mind the shop one day a week, and my day is Friday. I take my bead stuff, and maybe a book. I turn on all our little lights (Dave Prudhomme, our NOLA-born wood-turner bought and installed tracklights!) and do a general check over all our pretties - We have paintings and drawings, ceramics, handmade silver, turned bowls, hooked rugs, hand-painted pillows and handmade purses, fused glass jewelry, pretty birdhouses, hand-made greeting cards, ornaments, blown glass, and of course, “Southern Charms” beaded glass jewelry and handmade journals. :) I record the daily balance (we even have a checking account and tax numbers and all that grown-up, real stuff! ) and write in the journal that we keep. I read a little maybe, and drink my coffee, then I put on some nice music, set up my bead-stuff, put on a pot of water for cocoa later, and work and wait for visitors and other artists to drop in! We have a little class room, so that we can teach classes, and there’s stuff for sale in there, too. We all pay less than 40$ a month for the privilege, and we all have say in what we sell and how the shop looks. It’s a good peaceful group. Everyone gets along, everyone supports and inspires each other, and everyone sells stuff. It is my Arts Desire. :)
Then, there’s the big news (or “What does Sam do on the Weekends?”) Well, usually take a stab at a little housework, find time to see Chris’ folks or my friends, or even just hide a little, veg and work and watch a movie while I do laundry, and I’ll still have some weekends for that, but at least two weekends a month, I’ll be out researching, planning and preparing for my travel show that will be coming to the new cable access channel 20 in Asheville, URTV. :D :D :D
It’s called “A Lowlanders’ Guide to the Mountains” (for now. Things have a way of changing, and I’m cool with that, but...) I chose that title because no matter how beautiful it is here, it is still not, and will never be, home. From what my siblings tell me, neither is home anymore, not since last September, so that adds an element to this show, too. I have spent a lot of time roaming these valleys and towns, looking for the places that remind me of home. Not just the land, though I do miss flat deep water and big open sky, but the people, the old general stores, the places to eat that have lots of trucks with dog-boxes parked outside. You get the drift – at least, if you’re a true southerner you do. :)
My show will feature those aspects of all the hundreds of beautiful little out-of-the-way places within a days’ drive of Asheville. Lawn art, old-timers in hardware stores, good diners, nice little shops, interesting local people and history. This area is so rich, and I know I will enjoy this exploration. Chris is producing the show – meaning he’s handling all the non-art part of it, as well as the very important art part of it, he will be my cameraman. I am going through the local college radio stations to get music from local bands - bluegrass, gospel, country, jam, whatever fits the towns I’m featuring, and will get some good exposure (hopefully) for local bands. The people at URTV are stoked, and so are Chris and I. He is also producing his own show, and there’s been lots of buzz amongst the film/media art crowd in Asheville about that. It’s called “Videobot” and he’ll be showing lesser known independent short film and video, hopefully featuring lots of local talent, but also national and international film and music too. His very first submission came from THE Capitol Records in Hollywood. We were so excited! :)
So much to do, so much to learn, but we really are, in our small way, living our dreams.
I suppose this is my way of saying that I know I’m not physically, consciously a good correspondent, and that I’m aware that I should seem more present. But I’ve never been, and I’ve tried. I have little spurts, and I’ll get a wild hair and send a card, or even (*gasp!*) call somebody, but then I feel guilty about whoever I didn’t write to or call, and have to spend more time distracting myself from how guilty I feel and work even HARDER. I can at least let you all know that I love you, and think of you, and if you were nearer, you would at least see me and talk to me more than once a year or so. I manage to see some of my local girlies at least once a month. That’s a good record for me. I shamelessly admit that I appreciate it when people call me, because often I will just stop what I am doing and catch up a little, or call back when I can, because otherwise, I just use my phone for practical calls.
The other thing I can assure you of is that, even if I weren’t so consumed with work and art and sadness, I would still be a bad correspondent, maybe an even worse one, out of shame or further negligence, so I’m glad that I am furiously filling my time with good, productive stuff instead of all the bad things I could be doing - things I have done in the past. From couch potato to loony bin ward... *sheesh*. Now that I finally have the internet again, I try to check my mail every other day at the least, and to write a blog every few days. I’ve just been putting off a real blog until now, because I had all of this to say, all these “I’m sorrys”, and all these shameful admittances, and even though I’m not sure why I should hope for it, it’s nice to feel forgiven, which in my mind means: loved and understood.
Thank you.
-sam
*Joe, Ellie, Jeff (Happy Birthday, “Ole Man”), Shawn, Mandy, Charlyn&Clan; Sue&Clan, Robbie, etc. – even, maybe sometimes especially the ones gone, or not in my life at all.
**Sandy, Rory, Ninka, Pablo, Karl, Hank, Terry, Joey, LeLa sisters&clan, Pam... – y’all all know who y’all be.
*** Awful:
1. Extremely bad or unpleasant; terrible: had an awful day at the office.
2.Commanding awe: “this sea, whose gently awful stirrings seem to speak of some hidden soul beneath” (Herman Melville).
3.Filled with awe, especially: Filled with or displaying great reverence .Obsolete. Afraid.
4.Formidable in nature or extent: an awful burden; an awful risk.
****I really do believe in my heart that he loves me just as I am.
I know, it’s nigh mid-February, but you all know that sometimes, I need a good run-up. In some cases, as much as 37 years.
I’ve been thinking a lot since Christmas, about what this year might hold in store. Especially about the fact that I am creeping into 40 as a person that I’m not exactly proud to be. I love myself – but not enough. I like myself more than I love myself. Respect, admiration and love are most often NOT the same things. But there are so many things that I am sorry for and ashamed of. I am sorry that I am not a better friend (though I know that you all know that when I try and take the time, I give it my whole heart... Maybe that’s part of the problem – whatever I do I give it my whole heart, and while that is in my view, there is nothing else. I don’t think that means I have a narrow view. Sometimes (too often for my sanity’s sake) I can see and feel huge masses of the worlds’ pain, I feel like I’ve glimpsed the whole of it once or twice. But at those times, it is almost impossible to see ANYthing. I could cut off my hand and not notice.
I’m sorry that I’m not a better sister/niece/cousin. I’m sorry that I’m so bad at keeping in touch and keeping what are, to me, social promises. I think of my family and friends all the time. My closest family* and my closest friends** I think of every day, sometimes several times a day, but it is always while I am doing other things. Driving my mind and heart and body to not be still
I have discovered that I suffer from ... I suppose a kind of mania; maybe OCD of some variety, or maybe just finely tuned (or just highly strung) human nature ; but if I let myself get still and quiet for too long, I get deeply, messily, uncontrollably sad. (See, I am suddenly thinking about specific family members again...) It takes a lot of intense work to keep me distracted enough to not feel the whole of it. If I want to relax or ... not work, not be busy... I have to be either a little inebriated (a single glass of wine, thankfully, is enough to serve this purpose, though a martini or g&t upon occasion is nice.), or have something else occupying my conscious mind (a really good movie or book is the best) or else my unconscious mind will almost immediately collapse me into a screaming, crying, lying-on-the-bottom-of-the-tub, miserable heap. Not fun. Chris really hates it. Fishing me out of the tub, sobbing or trying to coax me out of the bottom of the closet are the worst. Ok, second worst. Sometimes I get mad instead of sad.
Of course, complete annihilation of the reality of my past and the awfulness the whole world over is not only unrealistic and detrimental, but it’s also a moral crime to ignore your own problems or any one elses, as well as ignore the true awful*** beauty of god’s creation. However, when one of your main problems is how suicidally hopeless and depressed you get when you allow yourself to be aware of the scope of others’ pain, things get a little tricky.
My art is the balance place. It’s the steam-valve. It’s where I can stay busy and vent my feelings. I can also use it to alleviate my financial struggle a little, and add a little art to some lives. I can spend the time when I am creating and venting meditating on what’s troubling me, or thinking about my loved ones or praying for the alleviation of the suffering of others. I thank the powers that be – even if those are just my !@#$%* parents’ lucky accidental genes – every day for the gift of my creative and learning ability, for without it I would be dead or worse.
This is still no excuse for not being a better sister, friend, niece, neighbor, correspondent, person-in-general. I don’t live as well or responsibly as I should. I am faaaaar from model citizen, I don’t think that Jesus cares if I’m a Christian or not****, I need to take better care of myself, I’m unacceptably judgmental and impatient – Christopher, I’m sorry a thousand times over every day – I’m a packrat and a bad housekeeper. I worry that kids will look up to me. I don’t listen as well as I should (but I promise you all that I listen MUCH more than it appears I do!). I’m stubborn, oh dear god, am I stubborn. I feel bad for all of my friends, and I really do try to rein in these terrible things, to control them and teach myself to feel differently about things.
My new years’ resolution last year was to not be such a doormat – to be more open about my true feelings. This made people laugh and I failed miserably on the only important count. (Do ask me about this sometime, Andi, when the mood is right, and you don’t have any heavy, blunt objects in your hand.) I know why Chris and others laughed, but I think I meant, along with being more open and honest, that I also wanted to try to be more gentle and kind and open-minded. *Phew*. This is how I know what a bad person I can really be, because I have been consciously trying to curb my terrible nature all year, and so I have been more aware. Again my friends, I am sorry.
This years’ resolution is to be less forward with my opinions. *Whew*. I am going to need energy bars, a suicide watch, and maybe my own little sherpa full of monks in the back yard. I haven’t abandoned last years’ either. I suppose the ultimate goal is to merge those two ways of being (as if I might even ever successfully achieve EITHER?) and so be spare in my judgment and opinions, and when I do speak, then people will hopefully know that I’ve really given it some thought, that it is important to me, and that I am truly meaning to be honest and kind.
The people I have been most sorry about not keeping in better contact with are Sandy, my siblings (Karly et al are siblings), Aunt Sue and Tedd. Especially Sandy. I feel like I should ask for forgiveness, but don’t really think that I should be forgiven, or that it would change anything. I simply have a hard time forcing myself to slow down (not to mention visit the past) for anything that isn’t within my peripheral vision. Even my friends here who live in Asheville, 45 minutes away and dear Sarah, who is just in the valley, and even Stewart of all people, have to call me and just sort of demand my time. In order to spend time with Sarah last night, I had to take my work over (making journals for channel 13 & the shop) and we put Corpse Bride on. I am happy to report though that work was abandoned, we half-watched the movie, vented and plotted and fantasized and laughed and talked art and inspiration, ate some pizza, looked at funny stuff on the ‘net. It turned out that the whole purpose for bringing my work stuff over was to inspire Sarah to get her art supplies in order, get her studio dusted out, and plan an art-supply (and club clothes! Woo!) shopping trip – yay! (Am not having to try too hard to comfort myself over the guilt of not getting some work done...)
[ok, Sue, Here’s the news for Alice! :]
And speaking of work, and how I'm keeping all my demons at bay, for those of you who don’t know (some folks have had a sneak preview), here’s what’s happening. I’ve been learning to cook in a gourmet restaurant since September (I started there not long before we auditioned for 'Greetings!'). It’s called Persimmons Bistro & Tea Room. I LOVE it. They cook world cuisine (which translates to: whatever suits chef/diners’ fancy). So we have sushi Tuesday and prime rib Thursday. Then there might be a wine dinner night with elk and boar, or maybe a little quail eggs and truffle oil. Fresh fish shipped from Hawaii each week, good cheeses, good wine, good crew. There’s a little tea room with pastries, good teas and coffees, cappuccino, espresso, and awesome lunches, hot and cold. Chili, potato leek soup, prime rib stew, “Pumpkin Molasses Bisque” mmmm!!! From simple chicken salad and curry chicken salad to whatever we feel like cooking. Chef always has some gorgeous chops or ham or chicken in there, Sara does the main chicken and pasta salads, and I handle the weirdies – thai coconut noodles, pasta jambalaya, mandarin roasted tofu kebabs, vegan salade nicoise – I like the spicy and foreign and healthy (believe it or not). My Indonesian rice salad (a variation on moosewood, nink) is my most popular, but my tofu kebabs and my bacon/sour cream/horseradish/chive potato salad are close. I spend two days a week there (T/W – I’m still delivering bread on Mondays. One of my stops is Persimmons. We make our own focaccia, but all of our sandwich bread is Wildflour. :) And spend sometimes half of Wed. and Thu. in the pastry kitchen with Ally. That is really an education. I have made some of the most beautiful, delicious deserts in the last several months, but there was a time when I would have honestly admitted that, though I can make some good stove-top soul food, a mean salsa, and even some damned good biscuits and corn bread, I was NEVER a baker. Too much precision and patience involved. Too much actual measuring and mixing - too delicate. I couldn’t even really do a good job on boxed cakes. But having a good place to work and learn, a good range of well-organized ingredients, and a very skilled and patient teacher can make a lot of difference. There is a lovely zen to baking, and it is, beyond a shadow of a doubt, an art.
Debi even asked me if I’d guest-chef a brunch at the Wildflour this season.
Wow.
I get off work early enough on M/T/W/T that if I need to work on jewelry, commissions or whatever pending projects I have, I can get things settled in the house, have dinner with X, then set up my work tables in front of the couch and he and I can watch a movie while I bead or draw or whatever.
Then on Fridays, I get up and drive to Saluda with Chris and my little suitcase, we have a nice breakfast at the bakery, and then I take my little key, and go through the courtyard, past the other pretty little shops (The Brass Latch and The Gardeners Cottage – mm!) and unlock the door to OUR OWN SHOP – “Your Arts Desire”. My friend Linda got the bright idea to start an artists’ co-op in Saluda. When we began, there were 6 of us. Now there are 14, and the shop is beautiful. We are all paying our shop bills and making a profit on top of that. The ‘founding members’ all mind the shop one day a week, and my day is Friday. I take my bead stuff, and maybe a book. I turn on all our little lights (Dave Prudhomme, our NOLA-born wood-turner bought and installed tracklights!) and do a general check over all our pretties - We have paintings and drawings, ceramics, handmade silver, turned bowls, hooked rugs, hand-painted pillows and handmade purses, fused glass jewelry, pretty birdhouses, hand-made greeting cards, ornaments, blown glass, and of course, “Southern Charms” beaded glass jewelry and handmade journals. :) I record the daily balance (we even have a checking account and tax numbers and all that grown-up, real stuff! ) and write in the journal that we keep. I read a little maybe, and drink my coffee, then I put on some nice music, set up my bead-stuff, put on a pot of water for cocoa later, and work and wait for visitors and other artists to drop in! We have a little class room, so that we can teach classes, and there’s stuff for sale in there, too. We all pay less than 40$ a month for the privilege, and we all have say in what we sell and how the shop looks. It’s a good peaceful group. Everyone gets along, everyone supports and inspires each other, and everyone sells stuff. It is my Arts Desire. :)
Then, there’s the big news (or “What does Sam do on the Weekends?”) Well, usually take a stab at a little housework, find time to see Chris’ folks or my friends, or even just hide a little, veg and work and watch a movie while I do laundry, and I’ll still have some weekends for that, but at least two weekends a month, I’ll be out researching, planning and preparing for my travel show that will be coming to the new cable access channel 20 in Asheville, URTV. :D :D :D
It’s called “A Lowlanders’ Guide to the Mountains” (for now. Things have a way of changing, and I’m cool with that, but...) I chose that title because no matter how beautiful it is here, it is still not, and will never be, home. From what my siblings tell me, neither is home anymore, not since last September, so that adds an element to this show, too. I have spent a lot of time roaming these valleys and towns, looking for the places that remind me of home. Not just the land, though I do miss flat deep water and big open sky, but the people, the old general stores, the places to eat that have lots of trucks with dog-boxes parked outside. You get the drift – at least, if you’re a true southerner you do. :)
My show will feature those aspects of all the hundreds of beautiful little out-of-the-way places within a days’ drive of Asheville. Lawn art, old-timers in hardware stores, good diners, nice little shops, interesting local people and history. This area is so rich, and I know I will enjoy this exploration. Chris is producing the show – meaning he’s handling all the non-art part of it, as well as the very important art part of it, he will be my cameraman. I am going through the local college radio stations to get music from local bands - bluegrass, gospel, country, jam, whatever fits the towns I’m featuring, and will get some good exposure (hopefully) for local bands. The people at URTV are stoked, and so are Chris and I. He is also producing his own show, and there’s been lots of buzz amongst the film/media art crowd in Asheville about that. It’s called “Videobot” and he’ll be showing lesser known independent short film and video, hopefully featuring lots of local talent, but also national and international film and music too. His very first submission came from THE Capitol Records in Hollywood. We were so excited! :)
So much to do, so much to learn, but we really are, in our small way, living our dreams.
I suppose this is my way of saying that I know I’m not physically, consciously a good correspondent, and that I’m aware that I should seem more present. But I’ve never been, and I’ve tried. I have little spurts, and I’ll get a wild hair and send a card, or even (*gasp!*) call somebody, but then I feel guilty about whoever I didn’t write to or call, and have to spend more time distracting myself from how guilty I feel and work even HARDER. I can at least let you all know that I love you, and think of you, and if you were nearer, you would at least see me and talk to me more than once a year or so. I manage to see some of my local girlies at least once a month. That’s a good record for me. I shamelessly admit that I appreciate it when people call me, because often I will just stop what I am doing and catch up a little, or call back when I can, because otherwise, I just use my phone for practical calls.
The other thing I can assure you of is that, even if I weren’t so consumed with work and art and sadness, I would still be a bad correspondent, maybe an even worse one, out of shame or further negligence, so I’m glad that I am furiously filling my time with good, productive stuff instead of all the bad things I could be doing - things I have done in the past. From couch potato to loony bin ward... *sheesh*. Now that I finally have the internet again, I try to check my mail every other day at the least, and to write a blog every few days. I’ve just been putting off a real blog until now, because I had all of this to say, all these “I’m sorrys”, and all these shameful admittances, and even though I’m not sure why I should hope for it, it’s nice to feel forgiven, which in my mind means: loved and understood.
Thank you.
-sam
*Joe, Ellie, Jeff (Happy Birthday, “Ole Man”), Shawn, Mandy, Charlyn&Clan; Sue&Clan, Robbie, etc. – even, maybe sometimes especially the ones gone, or not in my life at all.
**Sandy, Rory, Ninka, Pablo, Karl, Hank, Terry, Joey, LeLa sisters&clan, Pam... – y’all all know who y’all be.
*** Awful:
1. Extremely bad or unpleasant; terrible: had an awful day at the office.
2.Commanding awe: “this sea, whose gently awful stirrings seem to speak of some hidden soul beneath” (Herman Melville).
3.Filled with awe, especially: Filled with or displaying great reverence .Obsolete. Afraid.
4.Formidable in nature or extent: an awful burden; an awful risk.
****I really do believe in my heart that he loves me just as I am.
Wednesday, February 01, 2006
Good morning and SURPRISE! Guess who's back online? Today's post - and hopefully many future, (fairly) regular posts to come - has been brought to you by Dell comprudahs, Epson printer/scanners, Fuji Finepix, Alltel DSL and my sweet beau who used his graduation $, birthday $ & wiles to hook all of this up. :) THANK YOU, X!
I have LOTS of good news to share, but this mornings' pre-work (even pre-bath & coffee) post will be a short and simple one. I am posting this as an illustration for Seamus, but I don't think anyone will complain. Seamus is a new dad, and I was telling him how much I love those little downy baby-heads, and of course I had to share tales of my little local cadre of babies, my 2 year olds - Aeryn, Ariana & Elsa (with little bitty Izzy coming up behind - she's about 9 months now, and I don't have pics - yet!). Yes, Ally, I was telling him how funny it is to watch parents get to the point where they can leave their little ones with a sitter and that I would laugh at him and Harv-mama when the time comes. I feel extra privileged at being one of the trusted sitters, (Andi even let me keep Aeryn (Duckie) when she was little little!)
So what better way to use all this nice new equipment than to shamelessly auntie-brag? Here are my girls and their little downie heads: Aeryn in her Xmas pic, Elsa-Bug in pink and Sprout i n blue downtown shadow...
oh, how blessed I am!
more blog later, and
much love,
-s
