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December 8, 2012

Kindness- when does an act of kindness become defeated by enabling. I guess I don't know.

I grew up in a family that didn't have much and used everything we had, even sour milk. That is a quick story I can share now. My Mom (rest her sweet soul) used to save sour milk to make my Dad's (also resting with Mom) favorite cake for his birthday. German Chocolate Cake. That was the only time we had coconut and my Dad ate that cake, we did too, but there was always some left on the plates. My Dad was a cook but he couldn't convince Mom that she needed to use 'soured milk' (using a little vinegar or lemon juice in fresh milk) instead of SOUR milk and a seive to collect the chunks.  That was only once a year and when my birthday came in November, I wanted Devil's Food Chocolate and it took regular fresh milk. There was never a crumb left on the plate or cake in the pan.  I love you Mom...

Okay, back to the original theme... kindness.

We learned kindness from Mom. Her gentle spirit took in everything on the Earth as a gift to be nutured and respected. A flower wasn't just a flower at the end stage of it's existance, we were taught how to grow that flower from a tiny seed. We watched the progress, day by day, noticing that some of our tiny sprouts flourished and others died away. Mom always explained why that happened and those little dried up sprouts guided my sister Debbie and I thru our lives.  If you don't take care of it, or give it what it needs, it will die.  We eventually progressed from flowers to baby birds. The flowers were much easier, and the demise was less dramatic.

As we grew up, we learned about people from Mom. She had learned about them from her Dad, G. Edwin Greilick. He was a kind man that literally gave his coat to a young man, out on the penninsula that was standing outside his burned down home. Grandpa Greilick was an insurance man, it was cold that day he went to this burnt down home, there was nothing left but the owner and his family. Everyone had something to wear but this kid, Grandpa gave him his coat.  That young man grew up to be the Commander of the Traverse City State Police Post, Jack Cosgrove; another seed that was nutrured.

We learned to 'see the person', not their color, religion or circumstance. We learned to share and if there wasn't enough to share, we learned to give. Now don't get me wrong, I took the bigger half more times than not, but at least I shared and learned that sometimes you feel better to give the big half and take the other for yourself.  As I got older, I just gave the whole thing, and never thinking of a time I'd need to draw the line.

Learning to give is much easier than learning to not enable. I always looked at MY circumstance and since I really wasn't wanting for much (not rich but resourceful and I plan ahead; just in case) I could share what I had easily. Thinking back on Mom again, I remember her saying, 'you know... we could make something just as nice', so we did. She taught us to use what we had at hand; maybe think of re-using an old thing, patching it or decorating it to make it look different or interesting so the 'old' would be replaced by something 'made better', no money being spent and becoming a totally awesome thing that drew compliments and inspired us to keep going. She also taught us how to preserve food and buy wisely.

Pippi Longstockings was another fountain of inspiration. I became a 'thing-finder' and used all this crap I'd find to embellish whatever I was working on, or save it for later. I think Pippi invented Steampunk. Think about it!  Pippi was the key inspiration to every hoarder.

Back to kindness. Kindness will get you everywhere, even into some places you wouldn't ordinarily go or even want to be. I think this is where the enabling gene I was born with kicked in. I think it happened to Mom too but she never saw it coming and the word 'enabler' wasn't used in household conversation, or understood as negative kindness.  People, like my Mom, who are born with tender hearts are very low on the food chain and must emit a fragrance that is irrisistable to users and abusers. I, like my Mom, never see them coming because we are blinded by our need to give.  We give unconditionally, whatever we have, whatever is needed. As a result, we feel responsible, we weave ourselves into the lives of the people we are kind to. We check up on them to make sure they are okay, which makes us feel good that we could help. The more we 'check up' and re-enter their lives, the more we become less of a giver and more of an enabler. We don't even know it's happened.

It comes in the guise of 'friendship', not with everyone we are kind to, just a few people that we feel closer to, like a kinship or maybe even become romantically involved with.  This is dangerous for all concerned because not only does the kind person not see what is happening, the 'friend' also falls under this spell; seeing this kindness given become their food for life and not willing to move on to support themselves, but to become even tighter wound into eachother's lives. This is not love because it's is unreciprocated. One gives, the other takes.

In this day and age, everyone is feeling our finances, assets and resources dwindle down to non-existance. The kind person slowly becomes needy because they've given it all away. Most times that person can't see themselves as needy and the hard reality often comes too late. They've given until it's gone. The people they've been kind to sees there is nothing else coming their way and THEY move on to the next person that will be kind to them, leaving the kind-enabler wondering what happened, where did it all go, what am I going to do?

People that strive to be kind and helpful most always have a hard time asking for help. They still see themselves as solvent and not out of time or without hope. Good for them, but soon they will be the homeless, hungry and ultimately broken down and beat; never seeing it come. Prideful and not willing to admit they've been used, still saying 'but I know that if they were in my position, they would help me'.

I don't think that catarac can ever be removed from their eyes.


November 14, 2012
Over the weekend I attended the Northern Michigan Blues Society's 2012 Blues Challenge that was held in Buckley, Michigan's South Side Hangout. Nice place for a challenge.. great stage, food also good. But, the best thing that happened to me there was the BEST SLOW DANCE I've had in maybe... ever?

I was feeling a little spunky, being around old friends and good music, I suppose I could have added to the mood with a couple of beers, but since that makes me gassy, I did without and just made due with other things, keepin' my spirits pliable and up for anything.

I was taking money at the door and in walked a distinguished looking gent with a crazy cool hat. Hm? I didn't mention that I was planning on wearing Ted's oil cloth hat with the bronze pearl hatband, but forgot it in the van, but seeing this gent with his fine hat, reminded me of that.  He soon disappeared into the show room to enjoy the music. I kept on taking money and stuck to that program.

Later, when the drawings had been done, guitars and beer coolers claimed, it was time to retire the till and maybe me get my boogie on.  What a wish, pipe dreamin' again since I am THE perpetual leaner in any dance joint because I can't stand up for any period of time past 5 minutes without a quick and stable leanin' post. So I watched the crowd and soon recognized that fine hat and the nice lookin' man beneath it, sittin
 on the far side of the room. Well, he was lookin' at me!! Being caught, I quickly resumed band watching and just kept my peripheral vision keyed. He got up and asked the blonde woman to dance.. slow.

I love a slow bluesy song with a dirty Chicago bass line. It's always churned my blood and never, EVER have I had the chance to dance slow with someone that 'could'. I remember watching Lloyd Smith dance with the gals at the Coral Gables when I lived in Lansing, always wishing I wasn't sitting in the cashiers box collecting money from the waiters. Maybe Lloyd would have asked me to dance if I wasn't working.. oh well, I hoped and watched.

Watching the hat man dance with this blonde woman, I noticed he COULD dance slow, and very nicely. No working her arm like a pump handle, just a nice hold around her waist and a light clasp on her hand..  yea, I'm still wishin' and knowin' I'd not last a full dance,  I just watched; and... got caught again, dang!!

Songs came and went but only fast ones. I went to put my drink (diet coke) on the bar railing I'd been leanin' on and dumped it instead. As I was comin' back up from kickin' the ice to the wall, there was someone standing in front of me. He then stepped to the back of that railing, leaned toward me and said, "Anishinabe-qwe?"...  Well, me being a way truthful kind of person, I said, "No, I'm a Viking, but don't let that scare you off." He staid, we talked a little and then he asked me to dance... it was the best ever. I knew each step he was gonna take, matched it with my own. I'd practiced this dance (in my mind) for so many years, I just closed my eyes and let it all fall into place. He pulled me closer, I just melted into him and we danced as one. True bliss.  The only thing missing was the Light of the Moon.

Now I will wait, patiently, until my birthday when maybe again, I will have a chance to dance slow, with the same partner to at least one song... maybe more.
Will report back...


November 11, 2012
Seems I'm not keeping this up very well...  internet problems (that's what I'm telling myself). But here's the skinny on what happened between then and now... go get your coffee and maybe a snack, this could be a l-o-n-g one.

Char and I are still working on the main website (buffalogalslaststand.com) and when I get my info from PayPal we can link up a shopping cart with the PayPal. Also, we will have some contact info on the main site so you can get a hold of me for purchases, questions or requests.

Craft shows abound in the area public and private schools. This is great for me since I don't have to tote the canopy around and bother with it's set up. Just the 6 tables and 9 Meijer shopping bags of goodies, a couple of stand up props for the shoulder bags and a new coat rack for my shawls... you didn't know about the shawls??  Shame on me. I also knit and crochet, this is my 'laid back' art/craft I can do without maintaining the 'hover position' over my work. I can relax, watch movies and just stitch away.  I have some rather large shawls; finger tip to finger tip when stretched out wide, and they cover your butt... what more can you ask for?  They are made from the HomeSpun yarn, acrylic and totally machine washable. Use Downey or a fabric softener sheet and they are just too hard to put down.  Also I have some funky fringed neck warmers/cowls/hood things... same materials.  If I dig around in my bedroom, I bet I can find my big tub of afghans and mittens!!  OH MY!!   So with that added to the leather, beads and wire... it makes for an interesting display and maybe I should think of a double booth?

My Fine Pony (van) has a couple problems, of course she just reached the 90,000 mile mark of her life.. that would be what in human years? About 50, since she is a Caravan and they sometimes just don't know how to quit.  She has to have her power steering pump replaced and since it's leaking where the rack and pinion starts, it also has to be replaced. $1059.00.  Anyone out there know a qualified mechanic (licensed) that could do me a favor for maybe some bartering and cash???

I just made a quiver, 44 hours and it's very nice. The pattern (generic) called for a piece that was 18"x23"x17".   Since I didn't have a solid piece, I had to piece it together in strips.  It was fun making it, but if I didn't have to piece the main body and hand stitch it (I probably never will machine stitch anything) it would have taken half the time.  I loved making the straps. This quiver has a removable pouch that can also be worn on your belt; snap on/snap off.  It's become a child of a sort. It will be a hard one to let go. Maybe I will just wear it with a base ball bat in it.

OH... I'm also making wallets!  Tri-fold wallets. I had a man ask me, at one of the school craft shows,  to make a wallet and he'd buy it.   Well, I made it, called him, told him it was $60 and he said he would get back to me..  well he didn't so I sold it along with 4 more to other people. All hand stitched, nice leather, folds great (brother in law tested and approved, and he is my best critic) and fits nicely in the pocket.
I'm still trying to find a calendar for the main site that I can keep up. It may be over here and just a simple thing.. or as simple as I can make it and this site will allow (without paying for it).  I totally believe in resourcing whenever possible. Free stuff is great.  So here is my motley calendar:

WHERE IS BUFFALO GAL IN:
NOVEMBER 2012?
SATURDAY, NOV 17TH          LONG LAKE ELEMENTARY SCHOOL-TRAVERSE CITY
                                               SILVER LAKE ELEMENTARY SCHOOL-TRAVERSE CITY
SATURDAY, NOV 24TH          ?????
MY BIRTHDAY... PROBABLY PARTYING WITH CHOCOLATE AND GOING TO TURTLE CREEK CASINO SINCE THERE IS A DANDY BLUES BAND PLAYING ON LEVEL 3

DECEMBER 2012?
SATURDAY, DEC 1ST               TRAVERSE CITY HIGH SCHOOL, 3 MILE RD
SATURDAY, DEC 8TH               ??????

August 18, 2012
I just wrote about the pow wow and then hit the wrong key and deleted EVERYTHING!!  Thank goodness I had the back button and a separate window opened in my browser. I copied that page (which had not been deleted (phew!), pasted it to Wordpad (for posterity) and then just pasted it back here also. Dang, I hate when that happens, especially since I'd written a BUNCH about the pow wow and didn't hit the 'publish' button before all hell broke loose.
I was writing about the Jingle Dancers and how their dresses originated then thought it better to give you a link to resource this dress for yourself. Anyway, to recap the high points of what I'd deleted, Jingle dancers dance prayers with their footsteps following the drum beat, their cones then send the prayers to the Spirits via the sound they make. To me, this sounds like a tide of Spirit hearts all beating together.  Kinda like a rain shower and when there are many dancers jingling, it's like a fast stream rushing the messages to their destination... I get a warm flash just thinking of it.
Here is a link to the Legend of the Jingle Dress  http://www.imakenews.com/spiritlink/e_article001325105.cfm?x=b11,0,w

More of what happened at the Pow-wow; I saw Ted's kids and grand kids. All looking healthy and big smiles. Got a couple of nice hugs from his sons and a nephew. I saw some of his friends and got to sit and chat with them. I sat in the Elder's Pavillion with Gertie, his oldest sister and walked around with Arlene and Warren. It was nice to be with his family.
My friends Ralph and Char introduced me to their friend, Cleve.  It was all very nice. I also found the supplies I needed except for the copper cones and the tobacco twists (Samaa) I like to have. No, I don't smoke or chew it...  maybe I should have kept you guessing?
Okay, enough for tonight.

August 22, 2012.  
Happy Birthday Matt Rehahn!!  Now how did I remember that???  He was my daughter's first serious boyfriend (2 yrs old).
Today was the first Thursday in over a month (7 weeks to be exact) it hasn't rained so I was able to go to the Fife Lake Farmer's Market/Flea Market at the Springfield Township Park.  I didn't feel like setting up everything because as nice as the weather was, my body was just not cooperating. My ears were filled up and I'd lost my voice. Never stopped me from talking tho...  Anyway only set up 2 big tables and one work table. Usually I have 3 big tables and the short one.  I hardly ever sell anything, which is okay because it's just a dandy place to sit and work on my projects and talk to people.
They are having a Pow-wow the 2nd Saturday in September which I have to re-check the date to see if it's really the 8th or maybe it's the 15th.   I will be there, hope you all cam make it too... It's FREE, bring the family and join us.

I'm tired, going to bed after I sprint to the freezer for my ice-cream, then I will high-jump over the couch and double flip into bed... aaahh, I just love eating and exercise!!   G-night!!!


August 14, 2012
Subject: Dressing for the Event
First, I should probably list some events that you might want to 'dress special' for. Okay, Music Festivals you might want to dress appropriate to the type of music... folk/tie-dye, rock/t-shirt and jeans, Country/boots and cowboy hat, Metal: chains/leather/black/studs; Industrial: Goth/Steampunk/bones, Christian: cover yourself properly and restrictive.  Now, these are just my own thoughts and not something that would be or ever has been carved in stone, bone or picnic table. Music festivals are celebrations of dance, color and of course fashion, one wouldn't want to go to a New Age music festival dressed like a biker... when the place is full of goddesses, faeries, wood folks dancing in the Light, would you? Some things are important to fit in with. Other events such as Renaissance or Rendezvous are also something to dress for if you are participating. If you are just spectating you can dress as you would want, either everyday attire or you could wear something special to celebrate this occasion.

There is one event I've been to, that unless you are a singer, drummer or dancer or of Native American lineage, you might want to just wear your normal clothing, clean but not dressy, maybe something you would wear to a family picnic. Something comfortable because most Pow-wow's are outside in the Summer and in a primarily clear spot, not a lot of shade.  It is not necessary to 'dress like an Indian'  unless you are an Indian or relative/married into the family. This event is a Pow-wow.
Pow-wow's are Native American Indian celebrations of families coming together for singing, dancing and seeing relations from far away. They are family reunions of a culture that had been forbidden to practice their language, dance or dress. Pow-wow's are sacred festivals. We, as white or non-native folks, are invited to join them in this celebration. History is often explained before and after certain dances so visitors will understand why a dance is danced or what the song is about. Storytellers recite old stories to new ears, hoping they will be remembered through another generation, to keep them from being forgotten.

The Dance in the Circle is very Sacred. People dance for their Relations; past and present. They dance in prayers, clock-wise like the turn of Mother Earth, East to South to West to North. Tobacco is given for thanks, Fires are kept alive to feed the Spirits and allow the windows to be opened for the passed to bring messages and for the prayers and thanks of today to be offered.  Receiving and Giving, the old ways, their ways; we are invited so we can understand.
Some Pow-wow's have exhibition dancing and drumming with prizes given to the best and popular. Regalia outfits are primarily worn at Pow-wow or official functions and never worn as everyday attire. Feathers are stored in fine cedar boxes within the large trunks or packs that hold furs and other regalia items, safe from pests. Medicine bundles of cedar, sage, sweet grass and tobacco are also kept within until it's needed.

I felt the need to write this today because this Saturday, I will be attending the Pshawbestown Pow-wow in a leather garment I made. I am not Native American Indian but my late partner was and I will dance in the Circle in this garment to his honor, for him.  I was hoping that both of us would be dancing in the Circle this year, together as we planned... he in his ribbon shirt and regalia, me in my long cotton skirt, new leather cape/shirt that I made simply in a style of my own but with respect to the deerskin and shells I used, but time cut us short, it's almost a year now and still mourning him, I will dance alone.

I think that's enough for today...


August 10th, 2012

       

I'm back.  I had a profound thought last week (still waiting for this weeks profound input), I sent a copy to my friend Ralph and he said I needed to send it out to the World. When I had this thought, I was thinking about other folks that have been in my situation looking for some kind of answer, not to realize it was right there but not recognized. Yea, it does need to be out there where it can help. 

I was writing about dealing with the pain of loosing a greater part of myself by substituting something else in it's place. Sometimes you can fool yourself with the new substitution but it all catches up at some point... and this was about that point.

Ramblings and Moments of Profound Realism (for me)    July 21.2012

As I've mentioned before, earlier in May, Ted (my sweetest heart who died late last August 2011 in my arms) released me to walk on with my life; allow him to watch over me, not take over me.  For what it's for, and that being said, I've tried.

Some days I’m fine. I get up, say 'Morning' to Ted, get myself coffee and start working on something. I find that with less time to 'get thru the day'  one minute at a time (these would be Kleenex moments), I had much more time for my art, but never for the house.

Now I felt compelled to keep busy or raid the cupboards (again). I call that: TST*. TST is 'Thumb Sucking Theory': Sucks bottle>>sucks thumb>>eats more>>smoke cigarettes>quits>>eats more= satisfaction thru oral substitutes if hands are not kept busy.  This history of TST might help so bear with me...

I was almost born with my thumb in my mouth, had 2 teeth so no real milk for me, the bottle was then inserted. When the bottle came out, the thumb went in. Sucked thumb until 12.5 years before I gave that up for high school social life. Let's say the Pizza Pie was a favorite in our house.. Apian Way to be exact, potato chips, real cola's, ice cream, downtown French fries and gravy. Then I met a couple friends in 10th grade and they turned me on to smoking cigarettes and beer.. I smoked more, ate less and drank beer, felt wonderful, danced my tracks into the floor at Tanz Haus and had a 28" hips for more than 15 years.. Then I quit smoking, but man, after the first 2 weeks I started tasting again, and SMELLING the flowers for the first time. (My Dad was a smoker and we grew up in a smoky house).  Food was such a treat to be able to taste it without film in my mouth and sinuses.  Then I had Noelle at 32 with my weight  peaking out at 180 on my due date. I eventually lost 45lbs before I resumed working again. (2 months). I had been nursing/pumping, which is a total direct fat and caloric draw off. That's why babies grow good. After plugging Noelle into a bottled formula (at the physicians request since she was a shrimpy but awesome baby), I stayed plugged into my current diet, ballooning out gaining 20lbs. and in full blown PPD.  This was when Noelle was 18 months old. (I'd felt it at 6 mos. but since I was 'the joke of the day' gal, on my lab route, my doctor mistook my statement of, "I think I have post-partum depression."  (This was because I felt inadequate; I'd failed at breast feeding Noelle, my kid was still puny and I couldn't get a grip.  I was depressed but also anxious all the time. I needed to find a focus.) for the joke of the day. It wasn't until almost a year later that I fell apart in his office and he put me on Elavil.  I slept like the dead, ate like crazy and didn't care, so in the year I was coma-zoned on this drug I'd added another 40lbs.  I had an 18 month old to care for and SHE woke ME up each morning and by golly, I think if she could have reached the counters, she would have made me breakfast, she would bring me the Cheerio's box and her bowl.

My doctor friend, on my lab route, took me on as a patient after seeing me fatter and walking in a fog. He prescribed FLUOXETINE/Prozac for me instead of the Elavil.  That next morning the Sun came out!!  I felt great, slept great, didn't feel like I had to binge eat (lost that 20lbs) and still take my 20mgs daily. That was my Post-Partum Breakdown story. 

So anyway I was born with thumb in mouth and it's still there, metaphorically.  I CAN sit but not still. I HAVE to be doing something with my hands, along with other sensual stimuli, i.e.; music, TV/computer, rocking motion, incense/sage and chew gum. This my work station combined with my relax area. Art is my good alternate to binge eating. I don't walk unless I have somewhere to go.

 I had SO much time to create and produce, I had to be reminded to eat.  My sweet brother-friend Bill, seeing me go long hours beading or way into my leather pile without eating, would ask me,"Have you eaten yet and did you take your meds? ''  Now the way he says it is pure Bill; a finely rolled question with uncanny knack to blend useful reminders, respect for an elder and his bold faced cocky humor, taking you off-guard but keeps you smiling.  Maybe though, back in his mind, thinking I would have a bearded meltdown if I missed my Premarin or Prozac.  I will keep him wondering.. :)

How do you like my run-on-sentences... so far? I've been told they are quite outstanding (Mrs. Betty Parker, high school English; writing), Ted and his brother Bill, "and when were you getting to the point?”  I will now. 

All the above was me trying to explain how I've been dealing with my empty heart, empty hands and empty head. Getting my daily grip on loosing someone that filled my life with so much. Then would come the dark days I'd miss him so much, cry so hard and toss myself on our bed. I'd grab his pillow and just hold on for dear life, burying my face to hide the noise someone might hear... and then just let it go. Fists pounding the pillow, cries of 'why, why, WHY????'  Wishing and hoping he could hear me and know how much I missed him.  Trying to make thin air understand how I need him to know this and to please let me know he does.  Well folks, this is the point that I came to realize Ted's arms had been around me all this time, holding on to me for everything he could, allowing me to cry it all out on his pillow of a shoulder.  As hard as I held on to that pillow for dear life, he was holding on to me, rocking me back and forth like he used to do.  When I would stop sobbing long enough, I could hear my heart beating, finally settling down, still holding on to the pillow but remembering those nights when he would hold me while I was drifting to sleep, he'd sing to me little songs in Ojibwa. He would lightly push my hair off my face, kiss my forehead and then stick his finger in my nose to make me quit wheezing. Worked every time... I’d wake up and see his sweet face smiling at me and calling me his silly girl.  These memories, he gave me to lighten my heart and to think on those times instead of the sorrow and loss.

I'm sure some of my Christian family and friends would say, "Don't you think maybe that was the Lord?" No, CREATOR definitely heard my prayer and made sure Ted was there to hold me up (into His Light) in the hour of my need.

Okay, I think I've covered this POINT enough.

G-night Ted. Thanks for holding me again, so I could let it all go.  We know where we are when we need each other, that's all that counts.

----------

Theodore DeVerney:( May 28, 1950-August 26, 2011) He knew and sang the Song of my Heart for only 8 months, but we had known each other since March 1968. We spent every day of that 8 months listening to and healing each other. His healing became complete, where mine was just beginning. He held the door open, showing me a beautiful path for the rest of my life, knowing he will be there when it's my time to take the High Path. But for now, I will stay here and do my best to keep walking forward, helping our young people to find their creativity, see their potential and also walk forward.

 *About Prozac... I hate to hear folks trash this drug or anyone that takes it.  I do not have episodes when I don't take my meds. Only after being off it a couple months would I start to hyper multi-task and then well, that is the anxiety that builds up, letting myself be drawn in too many directions, the pile of unfinished projects, general disarray ultimately leads again to the depression and I don't let myself get that far again.  Earlier the day I fell apart in the doctor's office,  I'd ripped a package of 100 paper plates in half because I was so frustrated.  I'd grit my back teeth to the point of shattering a wisdom tooth and the strain on my wrist from, ripping those plates  gave me a ganglion cyst in my right wrist. The bad press on Prozac comes from the people that misuse the drug, self treating with more than prescribed and then have to deal out with the consequences, usually a suicide that hits the papers and a creative reporter that can make more of a story out of what really happened. That will sell more newspapers than the positive results and healthier patients.

August 8th, 2012       

Looks like I now have a new drawing pad and big box of crayons... I've been turned loose.  How many of these brand new blogs are there out there? Do they all say the same things, in the beginning. Does anyone keep track of them? Might be a good job for someone that has nothing else to do. Not me, I don't have the time.

I had a bit of a blog when I had my My Space account. I blogged about my Mom obituary and if I could remember the password or access that old email address from Chartermi.net, maybe I could copy and paste it here. I was impressed with myself when I wrote that rant. After my fire cooled I just put Mom's obit on there (my space) with a link for as many folks and relatives she knew/still alive to go read it there. I think the last total the Traverse City Record Eagle quoted me was over $300 and that was after I'd whittled it down from her life story to just who was still surviving.  It used to be free.

Maybe another time I will do that. Today, I am following Char's request to 'start a blog away from the website' so I have access to that and let her work her magic on the main website. I got lots to say and my own way to say it. If you have ever talked with me you will see that I write pretty much like I talk.  I wri te in run on sentences and change the subject at will, and often.  I eventually DO get back to the point sometime and then just jaw-wander off down another path. 

This website ( http://www.buffalogalslaststand.com )has been in the making for many years, at least 6
of them were somewhat serious thought and then KAPOW!!!  It all started for fall together. I'd re-united with my brother-friend, Ralph Starek, and we decided to work on some projects together, his Spirit Bags and my bead work. I'd always wanted to do some art with him, this was gonna be FUN!!!

Ralph is a crazy old fart (and I resemble that remark also) and it seems fitting for him to finally be so close to those bats that constantly flew thru his belfry. Living within the highly artistic community of the Grand Traverse Commons, I felt right at home at his loft, surrounded by his 'art thru the years' and his incredible collection of Native America made and inspired artifacts, drawings and also the gentle spirits of beautiful souls( living and passed) that stroll the halls and grounds. How can living in such beauty with liberal dousing's of artistic guano be bad for a person? Immediately, I was infected.  Working with Ralph, beading edges on his pouches, inhaling the intoxicating aroma of leather, I was reminded of the leather I had stored away. As soon as I got home, I dove into my box(es) of leather and started cutting.

My style is quite a bit different from Ralph's leather work. I tend to throw everything into a piece, and I love to layer different colors and textures and lock them with a variety of stitches. I love detail and balance. I love to experiment. I love to see it all come together, but most of all... I guess I like to show it off.  I love to wear it!!! 

Sometimes it's hard to part with a piece, since I make them ALL for me, the way I like it. When I do part with a piece, a part of me goes with it.  Everything is one of a kind, even when I make a lot of one thing. My little tobacco pouches are very similar because the materials I use for the soft sides (there are 3 of these) are all cut the same size. If you look at the thicker strap-like areas, you will see some that are Y shaped and some that are T or even a few that are L with an I sewed onto it. I like to use as much of the leather I have and leave very little useable scrap. Even the softer leather scraps I will use as colorful insets on other pieces (i.e; skull cap icon/scenery on the sweat band).  I love to patchwork my leather bags also. Just use it all and waste none.

So... are you still with me or did I loose you in that big cloud of Kozmik Debris??

That was for Tie Dye Mark Wright... may he be tie-dying the white robes in Heaven!!!

Okay, enuf for now (which is Thursday, 08092012 about 6pm). Just to be safe I will save this to my Wordpad... I still don't have a whole lot of cyber-trust.


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