Body Art

Really people!! William was born in 1470 in Indiana, USA? Really? Then died in 1472? But then some of you think that he married Elizabeth in 1454 but was not born until 1470. Amazing!!! and had children with the wife before he was born? Hold up a minute you other people that are laughing you have William born in 1484 and dying on Bosworth Field in 1485. He was in battle at the age of 1?? Oh yeah and married with children?? Twice married in some cases. How does that work??? The rest of you have him listed as the brother of his own son. STOP with the copy and paste!!!!

I understand that it is exciting to be able to tell people that your 17th great grandfather died in battle but you have him living in Indiana 14 years before the battle in a country he had no idea existed. One more thing, I am very certain that Richard was not born in England in 1398 and that he died in Colorado in 1804.

This ghost hunting is becoming a tangle! Folk in their eagerness to get as much done in their "14 free day trial" as possible are just plowing through the country side with not a care. Not everybody came here via the Mayflower or were heroes during the war of 1812 nor are related to the Earl of Essex.

Last night at our January Live Artz we had to Body Paint Artists paint wintery Norwegian scenes on two models. They were given amazing headpieces painted on to look like silvery crowns including jewels and bits of opal. Their eyes were painted and their lips while a shimmery blizzard with swirling glittery snowflakes danced across their necks, faces, shoulders and torsos. Dark pine trees stood like guardians in the distance, while a leafless oak slept soundly encased in the deep quiet. Aurora Borealis swept up and over them leaving a trail of ghostly light lingering on their shoulders. Liz and Lisa you are both amazing artists and your canvas, the models, were stunning!

A local musician entertained with his art, singing many original pieces of music. Dylan was a joy to have with us. Their is such passion in his playing and singing.

The person who received the drum set for Christmas who lives in my building is slowly improving. He is by no means good but he has developed a wee bit of rhythm and is not carelessly banging away on each drum because it is part of the set. Although he breaks out into what can only be describes as the drum solo form Wipe Out being totally wiped out at what appears to be random moments he does not play for long or past 10:00 PM.

I am plotting an adventure for my Birthday. It is not a trip to Bali this year but it will be soon, or Mexico or Aruba, Antigua, Bahamas where my people once lived and owned plantations and commenced to pirating and other nefarious deeds....

Speaking of this I must get back to Oxford where I am learning about dear cousin Bernard Gilpin and several of my people. From what I am discovering they should name the library The Gilpin or at least the art wing.

Cheers

   

Coffee Clown

I believe I have made a discovery thanks to an unpleasant incident from yesterday. I am quite pleased about what I walked away with, a deeper understanding of my passion. I have always noted that I am either in or out. I do not usually meander on the shores of mediocre. Re-direction is what is called for here and that opens up a vast amount of possibilities and a whole other garden of delights. The goal was to work my way out of a job which is exactly where I intended to go with it. However, that does not mean everyone else believed it. I have a hyena in the group. Show up once or twice put in no effort and show up at the end to take glory for it. I see you. I have been aware of you for some time.

I do not mean to cause a panic attack for myself but I had just enough cream for one cup of coffee. I suppose I could end this letter now and go shop.

It is also movie day. What shall I go see? Catching Fire?

47 Ronin? hmmm.....

Guess, who my dinner partners were at the event I was at the other night? Leon Coffee and his lovely wife. Yes that is true I sat next to a clown. A rodeo clown. Yes I know I am not the fan of clowns that my mother is but he was not clowned up. He was delightful and warm. His wife had me giggling. Leon has been a rodeo clown for about 44 years. He has had over 140 broken bones and was PCRA Rodeo Clown of the year in 1983.

He has appeared in several movies including Jericho, My Heroes Have Always Been Cowboys and Blood Trail. Best part of the night the Square Dancers. Especially the Hip Hop Square dance. Hey Reece, partner your dear old Auntie for Square Dancing! Oh and Leon I have been looking for information on why those women flip those skirts and all I can discover are some odd rules about when to flip and how high to flip. I am now more curious.

Time to go get more cream for the coffee!

Dance Bully

People decide!! Your daughter's name is either Sarena, Sarah or Susan. Pick one! This child shows up on three seperate census along with her parents as three different names. Ahhhhhhh!!!!!! This ghost hunting is stressful!

There I was shooting a fund raiser dinner and dance for a friend. Looking for action and humor and those moments she would miss. As I was gazing about me the announcer says in a very serious voice above the noise of the crowd "we have a gun in back!" What? I look at him, my gaze travels across the crowd and they are unmoved, continuing to dance and chat. Am I the only one who heard that? I look again toward the stage and the guy has gone back to singing and playing his guitar. For just a very brief moment a silky thread of "surreal" passes through me and then I see it, on the banner above his head, rifle raffle. I relaxed and laughed.

Can someone tell me what it is about me that causes anger in men? Some ofthem just seem to go out of their way to be mean, hateful, hurtful, and try to physicvally inflict damage. I just do not get it. For example, I have to cross the edge of the dance floor to get to my seat inside the VIP circle.

There are a few hay bales next to the fence line and a herd of children playing on them. That leaves no room to get to the VIP corral. I am walking back from doing a photo safari of the building grabbing shots here and there and heading for the haybales to stay off the dance floor. I am watching the dancers as I walk and notice this cowboy watching me. Now as most of you know cowboys dance their women backwards so, she could not see me. I move farther over and he manipulates her farther over. I move again and he moves; me walking him dancing. As I shimmy past the children and have made myself as small as possible he turns and dances her right into me. I swear it is almost like he pushed her. I say this because her reaction was more a "ahhh!!! oooof!!!!" then an "oops excuse us". She actually seemed startled and I say this because the females know they can trust the man they are dancing with to NOT run them into things. Of course this is not even mentionoing the sadistic grin on his face. I do not even know this fool, or his dance partner. I said "oops" very sweetly and scooted on off. He looked like he wanted to have a confrontation and meet me at the saloon for a draw down at 20 paces. Why??? He crashed his female into me? I wanted to throw him down and step on his neck with my Jimmy Choo spiked heel screaming "Do it again little man!!!!"

Then right before our eyes sits a teenage girl in a very short skirt with a teenage boy sitting right in front of her turned body, and where were his hands? All over her legs. Where was her mama? Sitting right beside her. Hello??? I am thinking there must be a little more than sheep shearing going on down at the ol' sheep barn. He has traveled those legs before. I am hoping they were not related. They could have been, now that I think about it they both had blonde hair and a sharp pointy beak...hmmmm.

In case you are interested I did not win the rifle raffle.

Cheers!

Thoughts to a Prof

As I am trudging off into a new year I have the sudden urge to tell a certain college prof a thing.

 I was 18! I arrived eager and anxious to excell in what I believed was what I wanted to become. You taught for 4 weeks about the decline of Roman archetecture. You bragged in an austere, holier than us voice about how you wore only natural fiber against your skin. There was only natural fiber in your home and that leather only ever touched your feet if they, your feet were bound in cotton or wool. You went on to explain that only natural dyes were used in the colors of your upholstry and clothing.

That you dispised anything that even looked remotely of Spanish influence and red and black were your least favorite colors. You sat like a king upon a throne and metted out smiles and favors to every lesbian girl in every one of your classes. They would spend a good portion of class fussing over your all natural wardrobe that frankly looked like it had been woven on a loom in Chico California during a legalize marijuana sit in. Yes it was great, it was cool but it was not to my taste. There were girls who went out and bought a whole new wardrobe attempting to gain favor with you. It worked much to my surprise. I was there to learn about interrior design, form and function not curry a passing grade from you by becoming your little minion and play toy. This apparently upset you. Me. I rocked your entire world and my refusal to be what they were had you in a rage I was very unaware of. You waited and waited for a moment to pounce on me like a leopard and devour my innocense. I unwittingly stumbled and you pounced. 

I am not sure even now why you disliked me and had a mean streak you saved only for me. There was always a perverse evil grin on your face as you tried numerous times to humiliate me.

You gave us instructions on how to do a color board on week 10 to have completed by week 12 and turned us loose.

I created a my board, a bedroom, with pale marble floors, sisel grass woven rugs, plastered walls painted a few shades darker than the pale floor, pale, all in various shades of creamy buttermilk. The bed I did in golds and reds and blacks. It was the focal point of the room.

 I wanted it to pop out and the rest to be just landscape. I was pleased with the visual I created. There were pillows for the bed and pillows for the floor it was a vision out of a romance novel. Then I made the error. I put my name on the wrong end of the board. You saved mine for last and smiled as you began to rip it apart with your scathing criticsism.

 You hated it was all nuetral tones except the bed. You hated the red and black. "Gold belonged on jewelry and class? do I like pillows? Oh and look at this you are so bad at this you even put your name on the wrong end". They laughed, and laughed and you laughed. "If I were your client I would fire you on the spot and tell all my friends about your tacky lack of talent" you screeched at me. 

This berating went on for several unnecessary moments. After class as I was leaving you grabbed my arm and asked what grade I should get for the project. Since it was my project and it was a design to be to my taste, not for a client, and allowing for the rookie mistake I would say an A-. She looked shocked and then grinned and with a cackle more than a laugh in a red marker proceeded to write in very large script a D- She then looked at me and said I like the texture on the walls this will score a 20 . Your grade is 20. She handed it to me with a smirk. I looked at her, then the board and back at her. I said to her "You think it is trash you throw it away!" and walked out.

I do not know what your problem was or what I did to provoke your instant hatred or what I said or did not do or say but no one deserves that. Here is the truth; you were a tool used by a GOD you proabaly in your natural fiber do not believe in, but understand this, if I was supposed to be an Interior designer I would have been and you would not have been able to stop it. You have earned my pity.

WOW! that was refreshing. I feel like a serious burden has been lifted and I am free of those tethers she maliciously wrapped around me so long ago. Oh and by the way.... There are 8 pillows on my bed! 5 on the couch, 8 in the guest room and those do not count the ones we sleep on. There are even pillows on my porch! Maybe you should have used more PILLOWS!!!!!

Cheers!

Privateer Loses Crew

I have noticed crops of "I buy Ungly Houses" signs all over my little village.

 It is disturbing and dumbs down the neighborhoods. I am not sure why the city allows this. As I was turning onto a street to pick up my grandaughter I saw a sign that stated with enthusiasm "Got Rats?" My first thought was... Not anymore.... and then a joyful laughter unraveled from me. It was at a perfect spot, at a perfect time, and I was grateful this one was there. What I had been fussing over with much tension and anxiety was so simply stated. A reminder, an assurance wrapped up in humor and tied with care. Just another way GOD reminded me all I need is all I have.

To the red Toyota at the traffic lights on Thousand Oaks, a red light swining from wires across the road is NOT a gesture for you to drive through the light.

You are to wait for the green one just like the rest of us. You did not even hesitate as if you thought you made a mistake. The car on the cross street crossed and as soon as he cleared your lane you took off. No tapping the brake as if to think ...uh...oops! There was not even a turn arrow that lit up green to flicker in your vision. No full throttle as though you were anxious to get to an emergency. No hospital or clinic on that road. You just went. You startled the poor woman in front of me who even though the light did turn green was hesitant to move.

Now for some more fascinating Ghost hunting tidbits I found. These are from a column titled, Runaway Servents, Convicts and Apprentices that appeared regulaly in a paper in Pennsylvania. Some of the descriptions give age, some height, some eye color, hair color or even state that the person has relatives in the area, the number of days they are missing and what else may have gone missing with them. You will see what I mean.

From 1775 - Catherine Kennedy, Irish, 23, pregnant, 2nd escape. (This one sounds like an episode of Law and Order SVU)

1753 - Thomas Kelly, Irish, 24, 2nd escape, has an iron collar on neck. (This one could be a movie starring Harrison Ford and Dominic Monaghan)

Jacob Kessler, owned by Wallace & Donaldson - ran from ship, German. (Owned - he was not a slave brought from Africa, are you seeing this Ed?)

I love this next one...

William Jochain, 19, dance teacher - English took 2 pistols (This is a romance novel in the making, did he also take your daughter?)

Maybe he is in league with the next one...

Daniel Johnson, 25, short Scot, was a drummer in the Army, 3 pistols. (Whose army?)

The next two are a couple of my favorites...

Jacob Johnson, 24, English, 6' tall, - traveled all over, been privateering ( Really?.... a pirate...oops I mean privateer, for whom/who? If I find him can I keep him? I am always looking for experienced.... sailors for me own ship)

Hugh Kelly, Irish, 19, short - ran from Privateer ship in Bermuda (uh huh.... so you are posting an ad for him in Philadelphia? You should probably check with those trouble making Pearis folk who live in Bermuda they are a bit tricksy with their "privateering".)

Enjoy!