A Moment in the Life

Last night I washed the new shirt I bought for my job interview today. Waking up to make the perfect cup of coffee in my French cafe’ glass then strolled into the bathroom to see how things had dried. Perfect. Carefully placing the glass on the edge of the tub a thought runs through my mind,”The glass will fall.

Listen to your foresight they are always corrects. ” Don’t do it.”  So of course I did making the deal that it would be only for a moment.  No opportunity for misfortune to happen. Always listen to those gentle warnings screaming in your head.  ALWAYS!

You likely have guessed the scenario. I reach for the perfect cup when pow it falls into the tub sliding up and down spilling all the contents not just inside the tub but up the sides and down over the floor, It is baffling how much a small glass can contain.  Thanks goodness for French chemistry the glass was neither broken nor chipped but the second cup was no where as delicious as the first. Not that I was not relieved and grateful not to be picking up broken glass. Most importantly the new clean clothes were untouched by coffee.

I did not plan to wash my hair but the ends were covered in coffee and a bit too sticky to escape notice. I will have to wash it. This sounds like a non issue except that my hair is down to my waist half in waves and ringlets the other straight as a stick. It will cut into my “freaking out time” and changing of outfits although it was all laid out the night before. Today being a new day and new attitude. It brings with it changes.

This means I must do my hair. Curling iron which cools off just when you need it to be hot. flat iron, or Velcros.  Do I dry my hair first?

Why is my hair so important? Because the fever blister on my lip is in full bloom in spite of all the natural and pharmaceutical remedies I applied. I need a distraction that is professional. I’m getting a bit frazzled here. Only four hours until I leave for my interview so I best get into the shower, wash my hair and give myself time to change clothes until I finally put on what I planned to wear the first time and redo my hair until I give up wondering why I ever bothered in the first place.

Teddy BearShaman

I woke up this morning and looked around my tiny apt.  When you have two rooms one with a small bump more commonly called dinning are it is not difficult to see everything with ease.  That’s when I noticed it.  There are a lot of teddy bears in my apt.  Actually many in my life. As my daughter was growing up to help her not be afraid if I was not around I would tell her the Care Bears were watching and protecting her. (Later she told me THAT scared her, but what do mother’s know) While I was hiking in Utah I was given a blonde stuffed bear. On the shelf in my studio, which others would be using as a bedroom, is a black bear, very cute I might add.  Then there is the small ceramic bear I bought because he is posed in happy bear position. Happy bear is one of my favorite yoga position because in order to hold your balance you must smile.  Without the smile no balance!

At my door is the guardian Christmas bear I bought for my daughter which I guess she never wanted but it always reminds me of her so I keep moving it with me from state to state. Now that you have the background let’s get to the point of the story.

Many of you may have gone to a “new age” meditation.  Well, I was invited to one over a year ago.  The person was a “shaman”, the kind that go to California once a month for a class.  Anyway everyone said how wonderful he was and I agreed to go.  This big white man in a fringed jacket stands up and beats a drum.  He has told us all we will me our totem animal. For 30 minutes he beats a 4/4 rhythm as we meditate and meet our totem animal. As per the routine we are all invited to share our experience. The fun begins as each person tries to out do the other with bigger and grander visions. One has met an eagle the next a wolf, so of course a wolf and eagle came to the third.  Then one was the eagle. And so the stories grew. Finally it came down to me.

I smile and tale a deep breathe. Some time in the middle of the monotony I did have a vision. A small black stuffed teddy bear came to me. Perhaps all of a foot and a half not too plump and totally adorable. When I “saw” him I smiled and tried not to laugh because I did not want to hurt his feelings. He seemed to know what I was thinking. Reasonable because I was thinking him into being. He turns and faces me with his hands on his hips and one of those looks that children give you when then try to demonstrate how powerful and wise they are. That’s when I noticed he had the most brilliant pair of hot pink spandex bike pants on.

Puffing himself up looking me straight in the eye he proclaimed,” All us medicine bears wear spandex!”

So today looking around my apt. I begin to wonder if my totem animal is not a small stuffed black teddy bear and perhaps I need to buy some hot pink spandex pants.

My door Guardian.  

It’s a shoe in!

I re-packed my suitcase again this morning.  For now I am going with the buckskin cowboy boots and put the hot pink sandal spike heel in the closet but there are still 5 more days to change my mind.

How about a vote: cowboy boots   pink sandals or  tan sandals? Or the red & white ones? Ahh… pick two, thanks.

 

Dancing To The Music

Like old friends unexpectedly run into I pull long lost but not forgotten items from boxes.  Tapes and CDs inserted into the the machine and I dance about the the apt. gleefully putting items here and there. I have uncovered all my yoga and workout pants. So many choices of what to wear. I can now throw out the wore torn jeans that bid me well for half a year.

The clean white canvases call to me and those previously painted desire new coats, new designs. I spent a few hours writing, ate a salad of spinach and greens. It is a great day to be alive. There is something to be said for having a home.  My Valentine’s day present to myself, joy and contentment, love.

Wanted: Black Leather Jacket

When I was in art school I had an authentic leather biker jacket.  Black horse leather worn out so the leather was soft.  My dad used to rub lanoline into it to keep it flexible. It had silver stars on the shoulder epaulets and silver zippers all over. Zippered pockets on the sleeves over the front but best of all were the inside pockets.  I could carry all my art supplies to school in that jacket. I had pencils, watercolor box, paintbrushes and my sculpture tools all in a designated pocket.  I was a walking human artist toolbox. I loved that jacket. I went to a dance at Yale University and saw one of the guys stealing it.  I was across the room and my date did not believe me so he would not let me go.  When it came time to leave the jacket was gone, as I knew it would be.  The thief and I had made eye contact as he stole it so we both knew.  I always wondered if my date was in on it.  I was crushed I loved that jacket and have always looked for another like it. The date ended with him simply not believing anyone had stolen my jacket.

So where was my jacket as I shivered my way back to my car?  That was the last time we went out and I never took his calls. I guess it was best because I saw him walking across the Yale campus with a sword strapped onto his side a month later. To each their own.

I really want another black leather jacket just like the one I lost.