The Tide Turns (Abstract Painting)

     

   

The Tide Turns

8" x 8" x 1.5"

Purchase

Psychedelic (Original Abstract Painting)

    

  

'Psychedelic'

8" x 8" x 1.5"

Mediums:  Gesso, Varnish, Gloss Gel, Acrylic and WD40 

Purchase

Flame and Water (Original Abstract Painting)

  

'Flame and Water'

8" x 8" x 1.5"

Mediums:  Gesso, Varnish, Gloss Gel, Acrylic and WD40 

Purchase

Forgotten Gods (Original Painting)

'Forgotten Gods'

24" x 24" x 1.5"

(Acrylic, Oil Pastels, Gesso Gloss)
Purchase here

Children's Room Art/ Wall Decor/ Baby Names (Original Painting)

  

   

Aya
16" X 20" X .75
Canvas, paper, ink, acrylic, sequins, arcylic

Sparrow
18" X 24" X 1.5"
Canvas, paper, ink, acrylic, sequins, arcylic, buttons, feathers, twine, thread

For requests, please email me and/or check out my Etsy shop

Doodles

Lovers of the Light

Lovers of the Light
15" x 30"
Oil pastels, acrylic, gels, sequins, paper, 3D butterflies

...So We Began (Original Painting)

'...So we began'

16" x 20"

Oil pastels, acrylic, gels 

Little bird (Original Art)

'Little bird'

20" x 20"

Oil pastels, acrylic, gels

Purchase 

Postpartum....

Postpartum....

Ladies and Gents I am here to be real about what it meant to have a kiddo.  Every single set of parents will have a different story, a different take.  Their moments may be so individual they have nothing in common with your moments.

ANNNNNDDDD get this....

Individually parents can and will watch and share in the same exact moment and then both may come away seeing, hearing and remembering it differently then the other.

Crazy huh?

Some pregnancies are harder and some are easier.
Also, some labors are harder, some are easier -

BUT ALL LABOR is hard.  So if you are the train that says, 'Gosh, wow, that was life changing and hard!' or the if you are the wreck, 'Holy SMOKES THAT WAS AWFUL', know you are not alone!

Throughout my pregnancy I skied, hiked, power walked, camped.  My legs were toned, my belly gigantic, my arms strong, my hair flowed thick and beautifully.  My body baked, without conscious effort (outside of my efforts to stay fit and eat well), this tiny perfect human.

Then labor happened.

First seven hours felt like my body and I had joined hands.  The contractions came, I breathed, letting out the ache, my body pushing me on.

Then, at 7pm and dialated to 6 1/2, we decided to break my water,

"This may speed up your labor..." the doctor cautioned....

Ya think?

At 9:30p I was at a 9 1/2 and could not catch my breath.  My body was running the show.  I hung on for dear life. The urge to push was the most unspeakably painful thing.

Turns out I was a bit of a snug fit 'down there'.  I cried uncle and thanked modern medicine for drugs as scary shiny long 'scissors' came out.

THREE Hours of pushing later, they hand over a little bitty dark eyed wonder,

I went to sit up a bit to cuddle her close and kinda froze on the inside....

Uh... whose body is this?

For several weeks, my body was a stranger.  This is weird.  I attempted to rest and heal but as my soft body grew ever more squishy I became a more bewildered...

I am thirty six years old my friends.  I know me.  I love to be active and my life is fantastic. I tend to be lighthearted, even when maybe I should be more serious... I LOVE mornings and espresso coffee. I have a dark chocolate and pomegranate addiction, eggs and apples are my favorite 'get-full-quick' fix.

Nothing felt or tasted right.

In the hours, days and weeks that followed, I was forlorn and so very tired.   My legs ached going upstairs, my left leg and foot were forever falling asleep, (tore my piriformis muscle, very common, feels like the worst sciatic pain ever)....

My hair was still pretty awesome and my skin smooth and pretty but I was so DAMN WEAK; physically, mentally, emotionally.  I felt like glass, a semi- sharp word could slice me open and I would bleed about it for days.

Then in one afternoon, I was me again and me was I and clearer... a muddled a description, I know, I know.

It was in the third month.  On a cold snowy Tuesday afternoon, I literally felt my body sigh and relax. My hair started to thin to normal in the morning shower.   The night before my dreams reappeared (oh how I'd missed dreaming!).

I'm sure there are scientific reasons for the fog lifting but I attribute it to the moment I stumbled across some very candid photos my sweetheart had taken in those first raw tender moments... I had not seen them before.

I clicked through them, studying my face and his....

Whoa.... parents you know. You know all the tepid words that try to relate those expressions.

My summary, (so far), Momma's trust yourself.  Trust yourself over any relative's well meaning, or not well meaning, words.  Your baby is your baby.  You know what your baby needs.
Be kind to you and your partner.
This will pass in a blink.  Cherish it, shrug off any eky moments.
Be gentle with yourself.
Sleep when you can.  If you can't, stop and rest.  Many times I couldn't sleep.  Still felt good to lay down for a few minutes and rest.
Becoming a Mommy has eliminated any verbal filter I had before.  So... just sayn', be cautious, I will answer and say exactly what I am thinking.

Oh and every morning nap, car ride and day is different.

For example; Yesterday, she slept most of the night.  Which means I showered and dressed before she got up. In Fact - I'd packed my hubby's work snacks, started laundry, did the dishes and sat down to look at a position I applied to a month ago BEFORE he got up.

Uh huh, oh yeah, that was me.

Flip that coin and there was today...... three outfits for her and two for me later....

And here I am.  I finally have gotten her down to nap by nursing her to sleep (I know, I know, self soothing is a better way to get them to sleep) and instead of hurrying off to brush my teeth, I hold her.  I hold and hold and hold her.... because she is precious and beautiful and for this very short time I can hold her and hold her and hold her...

Dreams for Aya (Original Art)

Dreams for Aya

12" x 36" x 1.5"

Buttons, thread, paint, gels, sequins, paper birds, flowers and trees were used to playfully create mixed media wall decor portraying the dreams wished for a child. 

The finished piece pictured is on a 30" x 15" x 1.5" canvas. 

Jeweled Lady (Original Art)

Jeweled Lady

(In Progress)

18" X 24" X 1.5"

Gels, Acrylics, Sequins, Pastels

Aya Means... (Original Art)

'Aya'

14" X  18"

(Mixed Media)

Big Box Store....

My mission today... take Luna, aka 'Looney Tunes' to Day Care/ Bath.  Then go to visit hubby at hubby's office. Last, go to big box store with huge list. Return home and put perishables into fridge.

All with Little Blue Bird in tow.

We can DO this!

Timing is critical.  Little feathered creature must be recently napped and fed moments prior to her encasement into the highly suspicious and dreaded contraption called a 'car seat'. Plus have Friday chores that MUST be done prior to leaving the house as  I know I will not do them when I return.

7am... she awakens.  Change, feed, snuggle, dress in day clothes, feed, change, tuck back in for am nap.  It is 8:30am.

GO!

Downstairs, push power button for pre-prepped coffee.  Shovel yogurt into mouth while it brews.

Crap -forgot am weigh in.  Go upstairs. Subtract yogurt...gah... no bueno.  Move on!

Try to scold Luna into eating - receive mournful squeaking.  Give up and have a cup of coffee on floor with Princess Buttercup to convince her to eat.

9am... Gather, place all necessary items into car (i.e. extra outfit x2 (including a top for me), baby sling, four legged friend hammock and leash etc.)

Dress, apply mascara, brush hair.   Empty garbage, double check / add to grocery list, water house plants, do last night's dishes, clean coffee pot, update/ balance monthly bills, switch laundry, empty little box, vacuum -

10:50am... Hear stirrings of starvation and Luna runs downstairs to inform me her charge is awake.

Change, feed, snuggle, play, feed, change, tuck into car seat.

11:50am Load car with infant and canine. Lose more of hearing from outrage of one, celebration from the other.

12:10pm Doggie Daycare.  Sit in car extra two minutes to gather resolve.

Get Luna out first.  She is a twirling ball of ear piercing fur attached to a leash.  Extract second distressed tragic creature.  Luna tries to reassure her ward and her cold nose is rewarded with increased vocals.

Realize making scene in parking lot...

Haul both into Daycare...

Attendees are 3x usual. Check in machine is down.  Must hand write in.  Put baby seat in crook of arm, hang on to puppy with other, scrawl illegibly time, name, date.  Sampling of 'Communication' with staff below:

"Hi!  This is Luna!  She is here for a half day of daycare and a bath."
"Who again? Moona?"
"Luna!"
"LUNA?"
In reply to her name, Luna stands up, paws on the counter and also answers.
The harried person smiles,
"Oh hi squeaky toy, haven't seen you in well over a month or two." She looks at me, "Baby here yet?"

The giant car seat I am clinging to is clearly not obvious enough. I nod.  Mind you, we are both shouting over barking.  This is freaking tiny girl out and winding Luna to maximum excitement capacity.

I leave with even less hearing.

12:25p Hubby's office.  Baby peacefully asleep.  No evidence of before scenes to explain my tangled hair and disheveled demeanor.  She looks darling with her bow and angelic expression and doesn't stir once for the hour we are there.  Office full of males smile at the little sweet peaceful face.

1:40p I load her into the car to leave and hunger wakes her with vengeance,  Kiss hubby good bye, sit in parking garage and feed her.  Twenty each side plus a pant change.

2:40p Big Box Store.... This was down right entertaining.  First the little blue bird has recently napped and fed and has dry pants.  She is nothing but bright curious eyes.  To prevent the invasion of her space, (and cuz I love that she is so small I can) I carry her in the sling for this expedition.  My list is comprehensive and requires canvasing the nearly the entire joint.  Every single aisle there is an approach and comment.  Naturally the most common one is,  "How old?"

What follows is varied.  Everything from comrades, "I took mine out at 3 weeks!", a frown, "I took mine out only at 12...".

There are questions about her name, how labor was, how much did she weigh at delivery, or now?  Did I get vaccinated for the flu?  Am I going to get her vaccinated too?  Is she sleeping through the night?  Don't let her cry it out! Be sure to let her cry it out!

My favorite?  A Costco employee, "Ma'ma, we don't allow dogs in...."  he glances into the sling, "Oh, right, sorry!"

PS:  I never stopped moving, I smiled and sometimes answered.  Every now and again, someone would get a little too close (really, couple of times folks would just lean right on in to my chest) and sunshine would get nervous.  Each time, I rubbed her back, kissed her face as she searched my face for clues in a response.  She was out by the time we were checking out.

HUGE Shout out to the lady behind me who asked if I needed help unloading and then unloaded my cart before I could accept and then to the lady in the mini van who slammed on her brakes to hustle her hubby out to help me put it all in the car.

4:00p Home, in need a nap and a glass of wine,  I settled for chocolate and a cuddle with the darling daring little bird.  The thing is this.  While the unsolicited advice and judgement was a bit overwhelming, the plethora of genuinely sincere well wishes were bountiful...  I felt empowered.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

But seriously, this was one of the most intimidating days I have ever had.  Interviewing at General Dynamics was easier.  If I can do this, and do it pretty darn ok, then I can do anything.

Hubby was picking up the Luna girl so I could put away perishables

Motherhood/ Labor

Carefully I scrub the sole of my foot smooth.  This three minute shower has it's time allotted carefully; Soap all over, shampoo and conditioner at the same time, maybe shave underarms and at least one minute to scrub my feet.

I make observations and then, like little mice, they run around in my head, scurrying here and there. Unexpectedly showing up and making me jump.  I noticed, while pregnant, many Mom's forget their feet so I had promised myself, not forget mine. Not that my toes are particularly 'pretty' but they take me everywhere I have ever been.

Motherhood... it is the strangest difficult transition imaginable.  My relationship with everything is changed and I see myself, and everyone around me, with a different kind of awareness.

In labor, the women who aided us blew my, already rose-colored perception of women away. Women can be lifelines of a strength and grace I do not comprehend. Sometime between my dilation of 6 to 9 1/2, I lost myself until slender hands grasped mine.   She pulled me out of the tunnel.

I believe all living things are comprised of Four; body (instinct, physical reactions such as flight or fight), mind (logic, reason), emotion (love, hate, compassion) and that indefinable essence, perhaps something called the soul.

After labor this is no longer a belief.  It is indisputable truth.  I was a passenger and my body had become a stranger's. My body was in control.   This scared the shit out of me,

Funny thing, right?  Not the pain, not watching the mirror -what terrified me was my complete and absolute lack of control over my body.

After, when they handed me this tiny girl, with her dark startled eyes, the flood of recognition in my bones..... my arms closed around her  -I can not express this.  It was all of me, all four parts. Then watching my exhausted and overwhelmed friend, how he both shut out and wrapped his arms around me.... I saw, understood him and accepted.

The first week of postpartum was a blur of hospital and mild shell shock.  Yes I can recite the days and events, I have my memory, it's overwhelmed kaleidoscope of people, pain and dark 2am's looking at her face in wonder and watching my darling husband try to sleep.

Week two was joy and extreme physical awareness.  Not sure why this is when it showed up, a week later, but my body's protests are the second thing I thought about next to her gentle face.

Week three; the reality of parenthood started to set in.  My 'I-Can-Do-This' attitude rallies, pain subsides (comparatively).  I take short walks with little Luna, start to do small chores, walk up the stairs often to recover long lost muscles.  I see the stress on my man, on us and start trying to reconcile it.  This doesn't go well...

Week four.  My body gives me the bird. I wake up with a 103.4 temperature - mastitis.  This is Unholy pain.

Interestingly, I KNEW what was wrong.  I knew it was mastitis.  My body told me what it was.

This pain -, it is in my fingernails, my head is exploding, my eyelashes are scratching my skin, my muscles are pulling my skeleton apart.  THREE days until the temperature begins to recede. The only relief is when I nurse her so I over fed the little blue bird at every opportunity for days.  Relatives helpfully comment daily how 'lucky' I am to stay home for a bit.  I don't understand this observation and the fever makes me foggy and too weak to answer with a biting reply.

Week five was a see-saw.  The benefit of being this ill, was that I sat down for this week.  Really and truly (and finally -as my Mommy said), I sat down. I cuddled, soothed and sat. Too dizzy to argue with my body, my activities were limited to showering and feeding this tiny happy girl.

Hello week six!!  I feel... dare I say it.... better.  Genuinely, everything feels better.  I respect my limits now too. Yesterday afternoon, as I got up to trim the backyard ivy I felt the room tilt slightly. My response? I immediately took off my shoes, went upstairs and took a nap.

Daughter

Hello little person,

I was nervous, so anxiously nervous and excited to meet you.  I am not the most maternal person by any stretch of the imagination.  I worried I wouldn't have the right response when you at last arrived.

For months I sang to you, talked to you, laughed as you moved.  When I skied fast and sure, I willed the energy of the mountain to you.  My love of the clean clear cold to you.  On my one little flight this spring I thought about you,  I prayed my love of discovery, change and beauty would be yours. When my darling and I went camping, hiking, exploring, I hoped some memory of the smell of the dusty desert, the pine needles, the snap of the camp fire and blue berry pancakes and coffee would find it's way to you.

I carefully wrote up a simple birth plan and shared it with the doctor and hospital staff.  I found a copy of it this morning and snickered.

Labor was the most difficult, personally challenging task I have ever undertaken. Ever. I was not afraid leading up to it, which is my style,  I usually put off being afraid until I actually get to what I might be scared of.

I was afraid of labor somewhere around 7pm and at 9 1/2 centimeters dilated.  Contractions were waves; Pacific coast waves, massive-forceful-pummeling-cliffs type of waves.  They swept over me, drowning me in them. I was not 'I' and me was not me.  I was a passenger in the unbreakable rip tide and the current swallowed me in it.

I was hoarse for a week afterwards.  I will skip all of the details and move on to you.

At 12:34am, they put your tiny self on my chest, goo and all.  Your wide dark terrified eyes were searching all around you and I answered, "Hey there little one."

And your eyes, still too under developed to truly make me out, reflected recognition of my voice. Your cries subsided for a moment and I knew you and you knew me.

Mine.  Mine for this instant.  So very soon, you will begin to define yourself, belong to yourself but for the next couple of years, you are mine and I am yours.

In the dark hospital room I watched my sweetheart bath you, cuddle you close and watched you feel safe, Your little tense body, so exhausted, relaxed into his strong arms.  Later we all cuddled in the hospital bed together and we were all safe because we were all together.

There has been very little quiet since the small hours after your birth.  In the last two weeks, our diverse tribe, compiled of friends and family members, have come by daily to meet you.  Their support has been a loud distracting life line in a world of deprived sleep and overwhelmed emotions of joy and mild terror.  Honestly, I long for silence and an empty house with only the three of us present.  I am trying to be patient. Soon, everyone will go away.  After all, even my own Mother came for three short days.

Before I digress completely, I had nothing to worry about.  You are so perfect, (says every Mom), but you really are.  You are perfect.

Yesterday (Original Art)

'Yesterday"

Watercolor/ Inks

(Details: 11" X 14" heavy weight 140-lb paper.)

Available

Grandma's house

Gah...

Another one... 

Resigned I settled into watch the stupid dream unfold - when I hear the muffled sound of a chair dragged across carpet.  

I look next to me, to see a chair drawn up and - startled, I exclaim, "Grandma!"

She beams at me from behind her glasses and happily I sit down in the offered chair.  She sits down across from me.  We are at her kitchen table.  There are violets and little random metal figurines on the window sill and fresh coffee on the table.  

I take a nice deep reset breath in her house of fabric, books, teddy bears and time. It is such a relief to be here.  This place that didn't change, that always was. 

I swallow my silly salty reaction and for a distraction, I move to sit side ways and study the many dusty framed cross stitches covering the wall behind me.

She pats my hand, giving me a few minutes as she goes to rescue oatmeal cookies.  Returning, she brings mugs for the coffee and cookies for comfort.

Here is the thing about my mother's mother.  Although Grandma was a spitfire; a sassy opinionated bird of a woman, she never tried to tell me what to do or to think.

She never meddled.  At least with me.  Maybe, because just like her, there is nothing that will enrage me quicker than someone telling me what to believe, what I should or shouldn't do. I have more than a bit of her sharp temper and stubborn independence.

Like her I love fiercely, I make up my own rules and ignore convention. 

I tell her all about it.  About it all.  Twelve months ago in August to today and she listens.  Such a gorgeous and confusing year; Banff, skiing Christmas (and all winter long), People in it, Work, Work, Work,Yellowstone, camping...

At certain points she 'tsks' in sympathy, at others I flinch away from her glowering disapproval, and at the exact right times, she smiles and claps - she is the perfect audience.  

I get down to telling the last little bit of the pickle I feel/ think/ believe/ image I am in.  

As I surmise my tale, she nods seriously, but I catch her mischievous side ways glance; the solution is obvious to her....the pause extends as she sighs to herself and looks out the window.

I become exasperated and I counter her sigh with a fidgety movement that catches her attention and give her an eyebrow raised and her smiles widens. 

She shrugs, looks up and smiles reassuringly at me, "There is nothing wrong with more than one Grandma in the house."

........................

....................................
................................................oh.

Slowly my eyes smile too and in a moment I am grinning back at her, "Oh!"

She smiled again, patting my hand, 

"Get up and go to work today, ignore the fuss.  You love that man, you went looking for him and you two choose each other over everyone else.  Ignore his occasional misinterpretations.  Respect his fears."

Dishes clanked as she stacked them together and continued,  "When you get tired today, come home, sit down and read a book. Help that impatient and restless girl stay put. She needs to bake a bit longer. It isn't easy for her to be still, just as it isn't easy for you and your sweetheart.  " 

She stood and took my empty mug and went to her kitchen.  She leaned down to see me through the hanging tiny creations cluttering her view, "One more thing."

I paused, I had stood up to bring in the plate of cookies, "Yes?"  - but at the same time, I looked down to see the alarm on my phone going off and woke up.

A Blue Apocalypse Dawn (Original Art)

20” X 20” X 1.5”

Oil Pastel, Acrylic

I haven’t touched a paint brush since May.

MAY!  

There isn’t time.  Every day is a dramatically frantic run to the end and I am deliriously tired.

In the extremely rare moment there could be time, there is too much upheaval, too much noise.  I retreat to my safe place, the one room untouched by chaos, my small sunlight second room and hang out with my cat. 

I am not stressed, perhaps a little sad sometimes.  These last few weeks of the story that is just of him and I, they are so crowded and full of fires to be put out.  I want to sleep in.  I want to paint.  I want my sweetheart to have time to sleep in. I want one more day in the strange and beautiful place called Yellowstone.  Just one more day that is just about him and I wandering about a new place holding each other’s sunburnt hand. 

I am excited and happy for what’s next.  I am grateful to be with the most bossy and ultimately capable human on the planet.  

My body is heavy now; so heavy and busy and rich.  And every morning I am even heavier then before and it is harder to get to the bathroom to brush my teeth. 

I dreamed of this little girl last night.  She and he were discussing, in serious tones, Why, why Exactly, the swing that goes up then swings down.  They waved hands, heads tilted up and back as they talked about Why the clouds built in some ways rather then others and Why they dispersed.   I dreamed about the moment all parents face when they mourn their pre-parent selves.   I dreamed I loved him and her in a rashly raw and ludicrous way I didn’t know I could before.

Ah the anticipation of being first time parents...

It is the cobalt wild mustang, watching the rise of a fierce red dawn.

.....And I am out of Popsicles...

Your hand around mine

First night of insomnia in Months.

Seriously, since getting pregnant, my body is disinterested in my restless brain's occasional desire and decision to not sleep.  It knocks me out every dang night.

I fell asleep quickly but at last, the roller coaster that is my life the last twelve months, greeted me at 12:32am.

I tried not to move.  Maybe if I pretended not to be awake, maybe my brain would forget, maybe -

Luna's cold nose softly poked my arm.  I opened my eyes to see this gentle friend watching me. She knows, my breathing gave me away.

We got up and went down stairs and she went out to go potty and I did too. When she came back in, she tried to herd me to bed but I went to the second bedroom.

Usually this room helps.  The warm adobe walls embrace me. This time it doesn't.   I think about this being her room.

I listen to the vibrations of her hiccups - whenever I move in the middle of the night, it gives her the hiccups. Her little feet start paddling gently against my lower rib cage.

I think about what this means; first time parenthood is daunting and thrilling and odd.  I feel so young these days.  I see that my thirty years something equals infant something maturity.  My grasp of life and my place in it is so small.  Infinitesimally unbelievably small.

Despite this fact, my life is overwhelmed in gifts of great grace, with astonishing beauty.  I am privileged beyond believable explanation with my relationship to the most remarkable human ever made.  Our rare, gorgeous, messy relationship will be a shadow on the wind forever.

I marinate in this until 2:30am.

Then I get up and go downstairs.  Char greets me and we hang out for a bit.

There was this moment in Yellowstone....

I was drunk with joy.

Blinding sunlight reflected off the dark blue green water below, a breezy cool wind raises goosebumps on my wet skin...  

I smiled up at him, into his silver blue eyes,  My long tangled hair lies in wet ropes on my sun burnt shoulders, my exposed white belly blazes in the blue afternoon and the little life inside me curls up tightly.

I do not fear the water as I usually would, I do not question my semi-uncoordinated feet, I am holding the hand of the one I value most and the world is ours.

His hand, warm and strong around mine, gives me confidence to jump into the deep -For the fifth time.

He counts down from three and together we jump, never letting the other go.

All the ups and disorienting downs of the last several weeks comes back to this moment.  All of the disjointed happenings in the last 365 days are summed up in that moment.

Yes life is strange and people sometimes as awful as they are amazing... Yes the unpredictable is scary and terrifying but no matter what - there we are.

As long as we jump together, as long as our fingers are interlocked as we plunge in, as long as we surface linked; no unrelenting current will pull us apart.  We will laugh, reflecting back to each other all that over flows and builds in one to the other; victorious in this story that is of you and I.

Pregnancy induced insanity aka symptoms know as Harpy, Medusa...

Lalalalalalala.... pregnancy isn't so bad!

My hair is GORGEOUS!  My skin glows!  The whole shave your legs and the hair grows back by morning, well that is a bit annoying but it's okay!  I eat the same foods (except anything tomato sauce based, everything tomato sauced based has expired). Weight gain has been manageable with careful diet and reasonable exercise.

I sleep like the dead and I am so happy.

So happy!!

Most of the time.... but when I am not happy.......

Then the world crashes and burns.  Torrential down pours of drowning rain bring death and destruction and sweep everything into a pit of eternal despair.

It can be funny to retell these stories, I have had co-workers in tears laughing as I related the antics of my three year old brain but in all seriousness, it is kind of terrifying.

Usually I am an overly full of serotonin and lighthearted kind of human.... but when this new inner toddler hijacks my body, mouth and emotions.... I morph into something I don't recognize.

Harpy is defined as "a rapacious monster described as having a woman's head and body and a bird's wings and claws or depicted as a bird of prey with a woman's face."

Just a couple of days ago, I suddenly and inexplicably started to erupt snarky cutting comments, to vocalize off topic and sometimes slightly cruel observations until a certain person started to at last react.  THEN as a indefensible defense mechanism, I promptly dissolved into inconsolable tears and tragic desolation.

Intelligently, this person stopped to give me a coffee break/ potty break (and himself a sanity break) at the first gas station.

I hurried to the bathroom to wash my face in cold water and then hide in the safety of a stall but the power combo of my blood shot eyes, flushed cheeks, sticky blond hair and ever expanding tummy inspired two very sweet ladies to barge in and herd me out so they could rub my back, and tummy, and tell me "todo estará bien" over and over again.

In my shaky bewildered and forlorn state, I gratefully drank in their kindness. I let them embrace me and attempt to dry my salty and saturated face with their hand stitched hankies...

Eventually I emerged and brought my coffee to the heavily leathered, seven foot, salt and pepper breaded, masculine person behind the counter.  This giant towered over to pat my hand, tell me the coffee was on the house and ask if he needed to fix any trouble I might be in....

And then reason suddenly blinked it's lights back on....how nice of it to FINALLY show up!

I took stock of my current place in the world.  Shame and horror combined with a dark inner snicker as I realized the complete and absolute ridiculousness of my situation...

I attempted to give a small reassuring smile at the good intentions of the deeply tanned tattooed human anxiously watching me.

Mischievously.... I almost giggled. I almost restarted the water works.

It was a deeply conflicted moment as I realized this all had begun because earlier the car was locked for a minute and I had then waited for about another minute for it to be unlocked it and then... and then... we just drove off...

I didn't get to go potty....

That. Was. The. Trigger.

I turned to face the doors of doom and the person (who I had just poured a ten gallon bucket of irrational outraged accusations on) who sat grimly, quietly in the car waiting for me...

He couldn't exactly have followed me in... our little four legged friend requires the car's air conditioning to be on full blast this time of year.

I sighed and began the second longest walk of my life out of that dusty gas station. I glumly climbed in, my face turning redder by the second as I silently replayed the events of the last three hours to myself and hunched my shoulders over for a silent new bawl at my surmise....

My plea is pathetic but I must submit it regardless.

Reader it was pregnancy induced insanity....

again....

Smallest of Warriors (Original Art)

'Smallest of Warriors'

24" X 24" X 1.5"

Mixed Media/ Layered Art

(**I love and welcome the compliment of a purchase request.  Depending on the piece, I charge $.75 to $1.00 per square inch)

Hello Roxie!

My outfit rocks today.

This is worth noting because many of my daily clothing choices are an epic fail lately.  The expanding waist line has only added to my usual morning closet conflict.

Anyway... Roxie

Roxie is a sweet hearted, gentle, attention mongering little creature. Cute picture huh?

Roxie is the newly adopted member of my extended family.  My Mom took her in the day before Mother's day.  Roxie is staying with us for about a week.

This is awesome because Luna has been in dire need of puppy time and these two knuckle heads are about the same age, similar in size and LOVE each other.

Yes they met less than a month ago - But their comparable energy levels, sense of fun and mischief, shared need to tumble, tackle and run, have made them soul sisters.

Together they have the destructive power of a category five tornado.

The first morning, the day after Roxie arrived, I left for work at 7:30am and I sadly choose to leave them with free reign of the house.  I figured my husband is soon up at 7:45am and they were still eating breakfast and how much trouble could two little dogs get into??!

Fifteen minutes Reader.

In fifteen minutes they had up sided three large house plants, removed all couch pillows and cushions (but they were undamaged), knocked over the bar stools and were happily fighting over a tug toy next to the now crooked coffee table.

He put Roxie in her "crate", a soft fabric zippered box.

Since this act signaled to Luna that the games were presently over so she hurried back to bed.

Later that day, suspicious after the incoming call advised me of the situation created in fifteen minutes, I took a rare lunch to check on the dangerous duet.

I discovered Roxie can "hamster" her container and had done so all over the main floor.

Luna knew the crooked couches, tables, turned over plants and look on my face equaled possible doom so hurried herself back to bed until the skies cleared.

I really wanted to be mad but they were so happy...  so I let Roxie out and called Luna back downstairs to kick them both outside, where they wanted to be anyway....

Upon leaving I tried to barricade the living room with kitchen chairs to keep the hamster effect contained to one room.

Fail

Thankfully, that evening a sturdy and trustworthy looking wire crate arrived.  My favorite person put it together and I introduced her to it.

Although Luna graduated from her crate several months she still knows the quiet ask "Kennel" will be followed with tasty snacks.

She helpfully showed Roxie this.  So although Roxie was not exactly thrilled, she was amiable and willing.

Walking Roxie with Luna was an event.  Roxie finds every sound, direction and distraction interesting and worth investigating.  Walking past a driveway?  We must go up it!  Oncoming car?  Lets jump in front of it! Child riding bicycle?  Run around human's legs until she trips!

In a bid to make it home alive and desperate for an immediate solution, I tied her to Luna's collar.

This worked GREAT!

Luna wears a gentle lead because she is a spazy determined creature who has literally nearly dislocated my shoulder on a walk BUT Luna does get that moving cars are dangerous and walking in a straight line is the goal.

These are very important concepts.

...hehehehehehehe.... for your viewing entertainment

The end of this story, is as I walked in on today's contained disaster, I was grateful for the sturdy wire crate today.


...Like the hedgehog?

Roxie does too.  It is her most prized possession.  I found her in her crate, semi-buried in what was left of her bed, giving her hedgehog a bath.

Just as I leaned down to release her, Charlie torpedoed past at warp speed causing Roxie's vocal chords and heart to accelerate even more.

I realized Luna is not the only playmate in the house for Roxie and letting her out I watched the collision of three happy furry bodies.




Knuckleheads....

March of the Elephants (Original Art)

'March of the Elephants'

24" X 24" X 1.5"

Mixed Media

Details

(**I love and welcome the compliment of a purchase request.  Depending on the piece, I charge $.75 to $1.00 per square inch)