Art and so much more

Ø  Art, music, meditation, prayer –

I was speaking to an artist at a gallery last week and something struck me that I hadn’t quite noticed or acknowledged before. She said she often looked upon a completed piece and was transported to the time, place, the setting, and often reflected on what that experience meant to her. She explained that she often still saw details that she hadn’t captured in the art piece but that were with her still. She explained that she was often challenged with the material composition of what her mental reflection was at the time and the thought of what she wanted to convey. That was what dictated the final outcome of the piece.

I spoke to her about how the image pulled me in and I mentally composed a quick image and story beyond what was there on canvas as to how the session may have taken place, what situation drew it all together, what relationship there was or wasn’t in the subject and setting.

She didn’t elaborate on the story behind the painting we were speaking about, and I found that I didn’t really want her to. I was happy in my story of her painting. She did however elaborate that she often spent time in thought, meditation and even prayer about her work as it progressed and at those times where she struggled with the creative flow and talent to execute the physical painting of what her mind was showing her. That, she said, evolved and changed quite often as a piece was in process. The piece we were discussing she said was actually one of many different attempts or variations. That the one I was seeing now took several months to complete. Not that she worked on it directly that entire time, but rather reflected on it, contemplated the work, thought of the story, did and redid things in her mind and on canvas pieces over and over.

After that discussion I found myself thinking about what things came to mind as I looked at different pieces on display throughout the gallery and wondered about them and also about what else was behind their coming to be and how they manifested to now be hanging there. I thought about my own “art” in photographs that I take, pottery that I make, writing that I do. There is so much more to those things than what is ever “on display” for others. There are always many versions and attempts at a thing, and at some point we deem it worthy in our mind to release it and share with others. Same was true for the music I had playing in my car. I thought about how often I heard music, live or recorded that actually took me somewhere. Sometimes, back to an event or a place and time, a period in my life, or sometimes it took me on a voyage into some subconscious place I was manifesting.

I too, have seen paintings, drawings, sculptures, photographs, weavings and even Nature that pull you in and transported you to wherever. A transcended place and time. You are where you are physically, but you’re not “there”, in mind and soul.

That is what “Art” does. And that is what I believe true meditation or prayer can do. What is hard for us all is to first provide an opportunity to allow for that openness and awareness to manifest, unforced and not to our will, but to our being. Not as a request or desired outcome per se, but open to free-will of what may be, and not just for ourselves but for others beyond us as a whole society.

I have seen acts of kindness, images of affection, and beauty in many things, and I have seen violence and pain, things that were horrible and ugly. They each had an effect of the present and of a lasting impression for me. I can go there as I recall them. The mind is a powerful thing. It takes experiences and information, and combines it with emotions and thought, and then allows for your choice in expression. So does Art.

Be Artistic my friends. Meditate and find your happy-place, find your inspiration within you and from around you. Your life and how you live it is your canvas, so choose your medium of artistic expression with care, work on it with pride, express it with love and joy for the mutual benefit of all. Give and share your Art with others.

Peace -

This photo has a story, and I may tell it to you some day, but until then, create your own story from viewing it and see where the picture takes you. Let yourself go, happy thoughts!

Best Man - thanks to women!

Ø  Best Man – thanks to strong women and Girl Power–

I have a lot of women in my life. I am a very lucky man and a better man for it. Every one of them continues to impact my life and who I am every day, even those that have passed and are not physically with me, still have a great influence and spiritual presence that helps me. Women are great! Guys are great too, but this writing isn’t about them, it’s about women. I love women!

So that you keep reading and don’t start making stuff up about me and my love of women, understand that I am happily married to a beautiful lady for 25 years and counting. I have two beautiful teenage daughters. I have three beautiful sisters. A beautiful mother. A beautiful sister-in-law. We have beautiful God Mothers to our daughters. And so many more beautiful women in our extended family. They are pretty, and some are drop-dead gorgeous, but when I say beautiful, I mean in body, soul, spirit and heart, inner beauty and strength of character.

I grew up with three sisters, no brothers in our family, and since the age of eleven with a single mom. A mom who had been a stay-at-home mom, and who had to become a working single-mother of four in the early 1970s. The Age of Aquarius. It wasn’t easy for her, but she adapted and began a successful and respected career. She managed to raise my sisters and I through teen years when the term “latch-key kids” arose, we too had to adjust and learn and grow to be a bit more independent, and at the same time to be more dependent and supportive of one another. Trust me, I was no “father figure” or “man of the house”, I was a brother and son and a damned ornery one in my teens at that, so it wasn’t simple, minding my manners, doing my chores, behaving well, and what a good boy, time of my life. My mom and my sisters helped me get through all that, and I helped them.

I learned nuances of a female household, the “rules” not always spoken or spelled out but still clearly defined. I knew when to stay out of things and when to lend an ear or advice, more insight really. I learned to care and remember little things that were important to each of them. I learned what certain “looks” meant and became more in tune with unspoken communication.

Each of my sisters has their own story, their own tale of trials and tribulations, of challenges, obstacles, hurdles, mountains to climb, walls to break down, adventures had, lessons’ learned good and bad. I can tell you that each of them and I, made it through high school, into colleges, into various jobs, into and out of relationships. We all have children that are unique, intelligent, strong, individuals that seem to be following a good path. I trust my sisters and count them as my closest friends.

My grandmothers, and a great-grandmother, blessed my life, and yes I was privileged to get to talk, visit and learn things from a great-grandmother – her story alone is worthy of a book. My Aunts and Cousins, each of them truly had an impact on their immediate families and beyond to extended families and community.

As an only boy in this household, I needed a buddy and as irony might have it, I connected with a neighborhood schoolmate. He too was an only boy in family of four sisters! This family quickly became my second family as I spent as much time running in and out of that backdoor, kitchen and family room as my own. Here too I was surrounded and “adopted” into a family of intelligent, strong, independent, artistic women; sisters, mother, grandmothers. I couldn’t avoid the opposite sex even if I tried. Their influence was everywhere I turned. Thank God.

I met my love, friend, wife, when I was still a teen working a summer job. She too is a strong, independent, yet a very family centered woman. I soon had the privilege of meeting more amazing women in her family. Grandmother, Mother, Sister, and lots and lots and lots of Aunts, Cousins, Dod-Mothers; a big Catholic Hispanic family with family history and roots in Colorado and New Mexico extending back before those were even State’s, for that matter before America was America. These women were Matriarchs of generational families. I very quickly found I was embraced, quite literally, into this dynamic bunch of women, and I learned some more things of a cultural nature with respect to women, relationships, “rules”, and honored respect of traditions. Though we were from very different families and cultures, I believe we both knew we were meant for each other. We both had growing to do, life lessons to learn, adventures to be had, college and jobs to keep us going, so we didn’t marry for almost ten more years, but that entire time we remained very close, supportive of one another, in contact and communicating always, and we have boxes of letters to prove it. (I’ll interrupt for one second – kids, mine and yours reading this now, write letters and cards, and notes, to those you care for and love. You can save these and look back at them. Your phone, IPad, PC texts and messages on FaceBook most likely won’t be the same, if even there, in twenty years when you want to reminisce some. And never pass an opportunity to spend true, real, face-time with those you care for; friends, family, loves).

All these women in my family, in my life past and present, and including girls/women who I’ve been in school with, had friendships with, dated, worked with, admired, they all continue to influence me positively and push me to keep learning to be the best man I can be and I thank them all for that gift. My hope for the World is that barriers for women will continue to be broken down, that those still oppressed and ruled-over by male dominated politics and religion, will rise up in their strength and independence, and that every man will come to respect and appreciate that we cannot be the “Best Men” we can be, until that time.

Peace and Girl Power to you all.

Roberta Belle Easter Roberts - at 94 years

R.I.P.

Look what I can do

Ø  Look what I can do –

Remember when you were a kid and you couldn’t wait to show your mom, or dad, or grandma, or anyone who would pay attention your new found skill? Like a cartwheel or summersault. “Mommy, look what I can do” and you’d launch yourself into an awkward, twisted, attempt at a cartwheel where two hands touched the ground with your butt hiked into the sky, legs bent and dangling from a half spin into the air. Sometimes you landed on your feet some times on your derriere.

You did it whole-heartedly with enthusiasm and determination, proud in the effort and outcome even if it was no Olympic standard performance. But you did it, well you pronounced loudly “look what I can do” and you went for it. And you kept on doing it and shouting at others to watch, over and over, and over. People would give advice, and praise, and instruction, and they’d laugh or tell you it was great or that it was awful. And you’d keep at it. Eventually you were doing a pretty damn good cartwheel, solid form, athletic, artistic, balanced, smooth, well executed.

“Daddy, look what I can do” as you climbed onto the oversized bike, barely reaching peddles and wobbling as you teetered in a coast down a small hill to topple over in a heap. Leaping to your feet with a smile and full of enthusiasm, “DADDY, I CAN RIDE A BIKE!”  You’d push it back up the hill and do it all over again, and again, and again. Soon you were peddling, not coasting downhill. Soon you were steering and controlling the bike down the hill and beyond. Soon you were not bruised, scratched, battered from crashes and wrecks, you were riding a bike, and you had the scars to show for it. And it took you to new places beyond your yard and immediate surroundings. It took you to fields and back roads, to hills and valleys, ups and downs, heavy effort in peddling up hills, or going as fast as you dared, or coasting along enjoying the ride and adventure, thinking “look what I can do, look where I can go”.

Remember that free spirit and “can do” that you felt as a kid, remember the excitement and enthusiasm and willingness to do new things, poorly and awkward at first, but repeated and practiced until you were able and capable and good at the thing. Remember as you grew you kept on doing new things, but maybe began telling those around you a little less often “look what I can do”. They were always still there, watching, seeing what you could do, what you did, what you accomplished, the most important of them being you.

Remember now, today, everyday, to say to yourself , “look what I can do”. DO those things and try new ones. Recall the joy and excitement of a new experience and the efforts along the way to keep at it and improve. Fall on your ass some, crash, wreck, topple over, and get back at it over, and over, and over again and say with a loud and proud voice “LOOK WHAT I CAN DO !”

> Note – this is dedicated to my lovely and inspiring wife Jacqueline. She took her desire and enthusiasm, her love for food, cooking and creating, and returned to full time school for Pastry Arts. She went beyond the minimum class work and participated in competitions, she helped classmates achieve more, she assisted a world renowned Chef prepare for International competition. She left her family and home for the summer to travel to another state to do her internship at a Five Start Hotel and Resort, and worked double the hours required for the programs base commitment. She drove the 1900 miles there and the 1900 miles home, and that first week home created and baked a three-tier birthday cake for our daughter's 16th Birthday party for 30 teenage girls. She then graduated, at 50 years young, and was awarded by her instructors for her Excellence in Commitment to Career, an honor along with her diploma and "Student of Term" pin. 

“Look what I can do” didn’t come from her lips, she is often reserved and modest about these things, even grand accomplishments. She is an inspiration and a very good example for me, for our daughters (who both have her determination, stuborness, and inate talent), and for all of us.

So here is her proclamation, on her behalf, from me,  “ Look what Y O U can do”!

Remember, you can do, then do it, and then start saying “Look what I can do” and say it with pride all along your way!

Old Man Down by The Sea

No opinion or commentary on this post, but perhaps some form of message or thought may come to mind - I hope so.

This is a short story, a very short story, that has been sirring in my head for a little while. Finally just banged it out and here it is for you to enjoy. Please feel free to share my blog with others!

Old Man Down by The Sea –

I saw him alone, walking, down by the sea. Shorts, a T-shirt, no shoes, long grey hair and beard, windblown. He looked old, but of an undistinguishable age, worn but still fit enough with broad shoulders and strong legs and arms. He walked slowly, paused often, looking into the water and out to the sea. Others passed by without much glance or any acknowledgment from them, or from him. Truly alone even on a fairly crowded beach. On down the sand and shore he walked in that manner.

I saw him alone, fishing, with a short rod off the pier. He was deliberate in his rhythm of casting, reeling, waiting, and casting again. There were others fishing there too, but he was alone. He stood, or crouched or sat, but he didn’t move from his spot on the pier down by the sea. At times I saw him take pause setting aside his rod and reel sit back straight against the piers mooring post and he’d pack and light a pipe with the same deliberate motion of all he did. Smoke swirled up and around him, seeping out more than any exhale, draw in, and seep out, as he gazed out across the sea.

I saw him alone, washing the deck of a large and beautiful sail boat, down by the sea. Same old shorts, T-shirt, no shoes, long windblown beard and hair, hair spilling out from under a well worn and tatter Greek Fisherman’s cap. He was true to form, deliberate, careful and fluid in his motions of task at hand. He was familiar, comfortable and at home there on this vessel. It was laborious work he was accomplishing there alone, on the boat, down by the sea. When he had thoroughly finished and stored all his cleaning tools somewhere below in the pristine cabin, he stepped off the boat and sat, back straight against the piers mooring post, lit his pipe and looked out to sea. Shortly a very well dressed middle-aged man accompanied by three very beautiful, giggling, curvaceous, bikini-clad, young girls approached. He rose straight, tipped his cap in greeting and assisted all to board the vessel. He then took a handful of money from the gentleman, stowed it into his T-shirt pocket, tip his cap again and walked deliberately up the pier to shore, and proceeded down the beach.

I saw him alone, drinking from a bottle, nestled inside a brown-paper bag, down by the sea. He sat, back straight, there on the curb in the parking lot, across the street from the ocean boardwalk, at the small tavern and store. He drank and looked out over the traffic, people passing, bikes, strollers, skateboards, beyond all that toward the horizon there above the sea. When he stood and started off, he now wobbled some, but was still determined, stood tall and made his way off to the overpass.

I saw him alone, curled up and sleeping, under the overpass, down by the sea. There were several others there too, but he was alone down by the sea. By him was a shopping cart that held a few items of clothing, a small box, his fishing rod and reel, a crab trap, and assorted other nondescript things. He appeared still and peaceful sleeping like a child in a soft, warm, safe bed, in a home, with family. But he was alone there on the ground, on cardboard, covered by a light hooded sweatshirt, alone down by the sea, sleeping.

The next day I saw him again, alone, sitting on that same curb, in the parking lot, drinking from a bottle, in a brown-paper bag, as he looked out over all the moving things. He looked more disheveled, less strong and true, yet still determined in a bad way to press on in drink, to heal the pain, wash away the past, dull the present. He sat less straight, teetered more. He reached to his T-shirt pocket and pulled the last few bills from what was left of the previous wad he had gotten from the dapper gentleman a few days before, rose unsteadily, pitched the bottle toward the trash can and wobbled toward the door to go inside the establishment. Above the door was the sign “Down by The Sea – The Seafarers Tavern”, and I watched him go alone as he entered Down by The Sea.

A mariners wish, blessing and toast to your travels through life:

May the wind fill your sails now and for ever more.


Cheers!

Matters of Love

Matters of Love –

When most people associate Love with the Human body, the heart is the first and primary connection. Then they’ll tell you it is a feeling, a feeling mainly in terms of the emotion and the following physical sensations that come along with Love. People speak of the “nature of Love” and natural tendencies of attraction. Science explains the chemical, mental, physical responses of attraction but can’t fully explain “true Love”. Too often physical and emotional attraction, Love, procreation, even Marriage, are bundled into conversation and language in discussions of these topics. Debates can rage and many other factors, beliefs, opinions and mixed amounts of knowledge; fact or fiction, come into the dialog. Historical and social practices of various regions of the world come into play with expressions of what is right, wrong, good, bad, acceptable, shunned. Rules, manners and practices of courtship, engagement and relationships are explained by family and communities, even written into Laws of governments and religious doctrine.

But, it is still the “natural” and “instinctual” emotional and physical response of the person that manifests initial attraction and “Love”. Free from all else, with all other elements eliminated, Love in and of itself will manifest. It has since the dawn of time, as “natural selection”.  Here too we must be clear that “natural selection” with regard to procreation is a separate act and function, from the emotion and heartfelt connection of Love. What typically unites those two actions is a positive and pleasurable physical and emotional sensation. That said, history and science indicate that there are very, very few species that “mate for life”, and Humans are NOT one of them, and only about 3% of mammals (and that includes us Humans) are truly monogamous or “faithful”. On the Matter of Love regarding “natural selection” and attraction to another “mate” or partner, once again Nature demonstrates attractions, partnering, even the raising of offspring is not exclusive to opposite members of sex. The majority of Natural acts of procreation are indeed between opposite sexes, and most are no act of Love but just the tactical action of breeding for survival of the species.  Since we humans are the only mammal to create and attempt to abide by “laws” other than those laws of nature and physics, we as a society establish these man-made rules and laws revolving around “Love”. Here is then, where the departure from true natural Love is quite often separated from governmental and religious applications of “Love” or any other associated legal jargon they so choose to concoct.

People do fall in and out of Love. People do find attraction to many other people across the course of a lifetime. Some people choose to have physical relationships based on those attractions and “loves”. But no person “chooses” with whom they will “feel” the attraction or “Love” for. Just as we cannot choose whether we feel pain if physically injured, we cannot choose to feel an attraction. In both cases we may be able to choose our response to it and our actions to manage it, but either way the feeling is Natural, it is part of our Human reflex, in our genes and our DNA, we are wired for the attraction and manifestation of true Love. Whether you believe it is Creation from the Devine, or Darwinian in evolution, it exists – just as a “flight or fight” response is regarding harm to one’s self.

In Matters of Love, I believe we would all be much more loving, caring and nurturing, if we let each person “Love” as they feel by their own Natural calling, and that we show our love of the human being, the human spirit, by granting the respect of Devine Creation or Evolution to allow Love to grow and manifest in a natural way as intended. No rule or laws of “mankind” should ever contradict Matters of Love.

So live and let live, love and let love.

And let’s get this straight, Marriage as a recognized legal matter, is at its core an arrangement of choice, an agreement of bonding of formal law by two people, either civil and/or religious – legally two people who may hate each other, or not even really know one another, can get married in every state in the USA if it is a man and a woman. In fact and as a point of curiosity, in all US states we can marry our 2nd cousins, in 19 states we can marry our 1st cousin, and in most of these if you are under 18 years old but older than 14, you can marry with parents consent. So if you are 14 year olds and have your parents consent and want to marry your 1st cousin of the opposite sex in certain US states - game on! But  same sex couples can only legally marry  in 8 US states, and in 31 US states there are constitutional bans on same sex marriage -- call me old fashioned, but that is wrong, and as for Matters of the Heart, love rules all and is the strongest bond.

May peace, and equality, be with all of you.

Let Love rule!