My Mother's Paintings...

(My mother in the art room at the University of Tennessee.

I think this was one of her favorite photos of herself.)

My mother was a painter. This I know. The presence of oil paints and palette knives...the pungent aroma of turpentine...the scratching sounds of brushes connecting with canvas...these were all things I remember. She was extremely talented, and I inherited my artistic streak from her. Geneva Jo Blazek (she legally changed back to her maiden name many years ago) passed away in August of last year. About seven months ago. It doesn't quite register with me yet. It's not a 'space' I can properly articulate. I'm experiencing a neutrality of feeling that has me in a sort of solitary confinement. How can I describe how I feel, when I don't even know how I feel?

I have been planning to post this entry for a few days now, but not knowing what to share was making me put it off. There are many things about my growing up that laid the foundations for the distance I placed between my mother and I. I spent the bulk of my life trying to get her to meet me half way. Something that I finally learned would never happen.

I had not seen nor spoken to my mother since the mid-1990's. I severed things. I know I have family members who don't understand why I did so. That's okay. Thinking about the questions that might arise from my even posting this much is what was holding me back from writing anything. My mother is gone now. What purpose would be served by delving into the details now? I will write my "memoirs" soon. If not to share, then just for me to get everything out. The last few years, there had been a prominent thought hanging around the vaults of my mind. If my mother passed away and I had not seen her again, how would I feel? Well...I have no idea how I feel. My mother and I corresponded for the last year or so on a very casual level. An effort being made on my part to keep it that way. I wasn't quite prepared to see her. I was working on it though. Then I got an e-mail that my mother was in the hospital. My aunt and uncle had found her disoriented on her bedroom floor (she had Alzheimer's). Later that evening I got a call saying that she was doing better. Less than an hour after that I got the call that she had passed. (She had signed a 'Do Not Resuscitate' order when she learned she had Alzheimer's.)



Known as Jeep to her friends and family, my mother had a great sense of humor, and a rapier wit. An extremely talented artist, she had tried to motivate herself a few times to approach painting as more of a career and had a little success here and there. I wish she had pushed herself more because I think she really could have gone places artistically. I've had a few friends ask to see pictures of some of her work, so that was going to be my chief reason for posting this. The slide show is of various paintings she did. Most of the pictures were on slides, so I took photos of the projections. Not the best way to capture them clearly or get the vividness of colors, but close enough. I have four of them, two of which were in her garage to be tossed. I'm glad I was able to get them.

(Another college photo...)

The slides were among many in a box from my mother's condo. I had finally gotten around to sifting through them. In the bottom of one of the boxes was a collection of papers and photos from her earlier years. The time before I came on the scene. Looking through photos from her days in college made me feel like I didn't know her at all. That's my mother in those pictures and I know nothing about her. Not really. I don't think we ever really knew each other. To her I wasn't me, I was the person who didn't meet her expectations of who she wanted me to be. There are many things I wish could have been different between us. Now I'm just trying to sift away all of the garbage to hang on to the good stuff. I need to get rid of this confusion before everything stagnates.

The above piece is one that she won several art competitions with. It's one of her college pieces, and is called "Brushy Mountain". When my brother and I were going through my mother's belongings, we came across this hanging next to my mother's desk. We assumed it was my mom's work. Assumed. This was something she had done in college, had had for years under the same roof as me, and I couldn't remember ever seeing it. It wasn't until I was going through the boxes of slides and saw the articles in an old scrapbook that I realized what it was.

This drawing was done by one of my mother's fellow art students at the University of Tennessee, Manfred Rink. It's his interpretation of her. It's hard to see the finer details in this photo, but it is done in pen and ink, and quite detailed. It's all done with fine lines, right down to the shading.

Whatever transpired in my past with my mother, it's all water under the proverbial bridge. I'm just happy that I have these elements of parts of her that she passed on to me. Her creative gene, and her love of art.

(One of the rare pictures I have of the two of us.

This was taken on a trip to the Biltmore Estate in Asheville, NC.)

12/21/2012...Is It To Be, Or Not To Be...

(Ophiuchus; symbol)

The Mayan calendar, conspiracy theorists, hobbyist astronomers, Nostradamus devotees...what's going to happen in 2012? More specifically, what is going to happen on 12/21/2012? Personally, I figure that I'll find out when everyone else does.

What do I think will probably happen? I don't believe that the Earth is going to get slammed into by the planet X/or Nibiru as the ancient Sumerian's supposedly called it. If I'm wrong? Needless to say, that would really suck.

The existence of Nibiru is said to have been known about as far back as 6000 years ago. The belief is that some aliens the Sumerians called The Anunnaki's came to Earth and through DNA mixing created the first male humanoid (sounds like "missing link theory" to me). The ancient Sumerians are said to have had knowledge about the existence of the planets and a clear understanding of the placement of them within our solar system (along with the proper size of each planet), which was well beyond the Sumerians capabilities at that time which is said to prove the alien visitors. (Note the representation of the solar system on the Sumerian tablet below which includes an extra planet.)

(Ancient Sumarian tablet)

Enter Nibiru. It is a planet whose orbit is said to pass through our solar system, and it takes 3630 years to complete it's orbit. Now, there is quite a lot about Nibiru on the World Wide Web, and although pretty intriguing in a sci-fi novel sort of way...well, I can see how the prospect of something like this could truly freak a lot of people out. Before I continue, I just want to say that I'm delivering a 'Reader's Digest' version of the various accounts I have read. This is kind of an amalgamation of the theories, and I purposefully left out the extraneous.

Is Nibiru coming at us? A lot of people believe so. Some believe that Nibiru is going to hit the Earth. Some believe that thousands of years ago, Nibiru hit a larger planet that predates the existence of Earth (the name of said planet is escaping me at the moment). It predated Earth because Earth is believed to have been created out of half of the older planet. When Nibiru initially hit it, the older planet cracked in half. Through repeated blows over thousands of years, the Earth and the asteroid belt were created.

The larger consensus seems to be that on the Winter Solstice of 12/21/2012, Nibiru will pass right next to the Earth. It will be so close we will be able to see it clearly. This will supposedly cause our poles to shift, earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, and tsunamis. Total planetary devastation.

The ancient Sumerians knew about the existence of Nibiru. The Mayan calendar ends on the date in question. Nostradamus has written quite a bit on predictions that are said to describe a comet planet hitting or passing next to the Earth. What does it all mean? Is a lot being read into the tablets, calendar, and predictions? As I've said before and I will say again, I am one who doesn't believe or disbelieve something until it's proven to me one way or another...but this? There are a lot of people in this world that thrive on conspiracy theories. Many of them want to scare the crap out of people because they have the potential to make a few bucks. Maybe they have written a book, or are giving a seminar at The Learning Annex? Maybe they just get a charge out of it? Okay...and maybe, just maybe they believe it? Honestly, if something that catastrophic were going to happen, don't you think there would be more noise being made about it by the powers that be?

(Ophiuchus; Constellation)

Then there is the introduction of Ophiuchus into the mix. Although this 'Secret Sign' wasn't thrust into the realm of mainstream news until the recent story about peoples Zodiacal symbols changing (which they didn't), Ophiuchus has been around for a long time. I must say that this slant on the predictions about 2012 intrigues me. In some ways it makes more sense. The alignment with the Milky Way. The magnetic poles switching places (the Earth is apparently over due). A great "transition". That's how it's referred to in the video below. "Ophiuchus, The 13th Cycle". It features several viewpoints on what will happen. Environmentally, physically, spiritually. I scarcely know how to discern the wheat from the chaff, but this approach to 12/21/2012 is fascinating to me.

("Ophiuchus, The 13th Cycle")

I found this second video on Ophiuchus while video surfing. It's not an informative video so much as it's a creative piece about the sign. It's kind of a short art film, with a Lynch-eon edge.

There is also talk of another solar event in 2012. Red super-giant, Betelgeuse, is losing mass which is a sign of gravitational collapse. It's basically running out of fuel. Fuel which helps make it the ninth brightest star in the sky. When the fuel runs out, the star will quickly collapse in on itself. The resulting explosion will be tens of millions times brighter than our sun, giving us 24 hours of light here on Earth. It'll stay pretty bright for a couple of weeks or so, and then over time it will slowly fade until we hardly notice it at all.

( Betelgeuse, as seen through the Hubble Telescope)

Believers in 2012 as the coming Apocalypse (the Mayan calendar predicts Armageddon) will most likely believe it to be the work of the devil, as the name Betelgeuse has strong association with Satan. Betelgeuse going Super Nova will signal the Apocalypse to some, and to others (my camp) it'll just be another cool event to witness within their lifetime. If it does happen in 2012, that is. There is a possibility it won't happen for another million years.

So...believe? Disbelieve? On the fence? I have my thoughts on the matter. I can see the planet going through a transitional period, and I doubt it will happen overnight. I think it could all even be for the positive. But like I said...for the most part, I'll find out when everybody else does.

Saturday Stroll...

Winter is almost past, but in some ways it feels like it's just setting in. I felt the need for a stroll , so I took a walk up to the corner. The temperatures were in the upper '60s, but the wind that has been present for several days had whipped a slight chill into the air. It was really lovely walking weather. Slightly overcast (we're supposed to get a few showers overnight into tomorrow).

Small blades of green were knifing up here and there through the thick carpet of muted browns and beige's covering the ground. Spring is clearly making it's approach known, but the effects of winter still rule. For the time being, anyway. There were several trees near the transformer station that I pass on my way to the condo entrance that were yielding red leaves. It felt like they were offering up remembrances of my favorite season, Autumn. Although there are many trees that stay relatively green throughout the seasons, there are still quite a few that drop their leaves to stand gangly and naked until Spring returns. I looked up into a morass of the stripped limbs, and noticed a collection of twigs and moss at the top of a tree. Not sure of the residents, but most likely birds of some kind. The only other ornaments were some sparse groupings of Spanish Moss. They reminded me of dingy haphazardly tossed tree tinsel. As I looked up at the stark branches, I appreciated the abstractness of it all. Like an intricately done line drawing. Before much longer the trees would be covered with leaves, and the intricate design would be gone. Until next year.

There is one particular tree that I always visit on my walks that is covered with moss. It's beautiful during it's leafy time of the year, but I really love how it looks in winter. When it drops it's leaves, the moss looks all the more full and dominant. The Spanish Moss is one of the things I really love about Savannah. It makes me think of history. It makes me think of Gothic ghost stories, and vampires. It makes me think of mysticism. The mood here in Savannah is exhilarating, and I definitely count the 'Moss' as a cause.

I've had people ask me why the moss is here. How did it get here? Did some Spaniards bring it over from Spain some how? If not them, who brought it and when? Why have they only seen it here? I decided to do some research. Figured that since I live in Savannah, it would be nice to be able to answer the questions when asked.

The truth is, it's not even a "moss" or a lichen. It is an 'epiphytic' plant, which means it grows on the surface of other plants. An angiosperm that is part of the bromeliad family, it is referred to as an "air plant" as it gets its nutrients from the air and rain. It flourishes here in the south because of the humidity, and can be found in Georgia, Louisiana, Mississippi, Florida, eastern North Carolina, southeastern Virginia, South Carolina, Texas, and Alabama.

No one brought it here, and it's indigenous to the American South. Here's how it got it's name:

When the French first arrived in Louisiana, they asked the Indians about the strange hair-like plant growing on the trees. The Indians said that it was 'Tree hair'. The French said that it reminded them of the long black beards of the Spanish explorers who came before them, and a better name was 'Spanish beard'. It didn't take long for this name to be seen as ridiculous, so it was changed to 'Spanish moss'. (That's the "Reader's Digest" version.)

I've often fought the urge to harvest some of the 'moss' for decorative purposes, as it's commonly known to be full of chiggers. Chiggers are tiny mites that are pretty much invisible to the naked eye. They bit and produce itchy red welts. I've had the bites, and they are not fun. For some reason a lot of people believe that chiggers burrow under the skin, and that brushing clear nail polish over the resulting bump will suffocate them. That's what I was always told when I was young. The welts can get rather big, so it had seemed plausible. Kind of glad that they bite as opposed to digging holes in ones skin. Rather creepy thought. I have found instructions online about how to kill the chiggers on moss using a pesticide that doesn't harm the plant itself. Before hand you have to dress in clothing just short of a 'Haz-mat' suit. I'll give it a go at some point.

I always feel invigorated after a walk around the homestead here. So peaceful. So relaxing, and centering. I've been rather preoccupied with several things lately. The walk was very welcome. Think I'll go on another one tomorrow.

Kandinksy, et al...

"The true work of art is born from the 'artist': a mysterious, enigmatic, and mystical creation. It detaches itself from him, it acquires an autonomous life, becomes a personality, an independent subject, animated with a spiritual breath, the living subject of a real existence of being."

~ Wassily Kandinsky

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I have many painters on my favorites list. Great artists that inspire me on a number of levels. Creatively, spiritually...some reach me in a very cerebral way. Through composition...geometry. Others project beauty in it's truest form through realism. My artistic tastes are rather eclectic. I love all forms, styles, and media. Bacon, Picasso, Van Gogh, Alma Tadema, Dali, Warhol, de Kooning, Matisse, Rembrandt, and the list goes on. Beauty takes many forms in the varied works of all of these artists. Even the dark and disturbing Pope series by Francis Bacon. I've been fortunate enough to have seen many, many works by all of these artists up close and personal. My mother was an abstract artist (she painted in oils), so I was exposed to different forms of art at an early age. Growing up in Atlanta, I visited the High Museum on many occasions. I even had a piece of my own artwork in a student exhibit they had there. A piece of pottery I made as a junior in High School.

("The Absinthe Drinker", Pablo Picasso ~ 1902)

While living in L.A. I had the luxury of having the Getty Museum at easy access. Didn't frequent it nearly as often as I would have liked. They have probably the most enviable art collection I have seen. There are several paintings in their collection that I would get lost in every time I saw them. One inparticular. A huge, land/seascape. It's of several boats moored at a dock along a fishing town. (I've been wracking my brain trying to remember the artist. Oh well...it appears that I'll be spending some quality time on Google and the Getty site. These kinds of things drive me nuts until I either find the information, or I suddenly remember.) There is a bench in the center of the room it's in, and I loved sitting there immersing myself in the scene. I could hear the gulls calling to one another, and the rush of the waves against the boats and the dock. I could feel the hint of spray hanging in the air, smell the briny aroma of the sea, and feel the breezes blowing in off of the water. Such a beautiful piece. Looking at art is another escapist activity of mine.

("The Screaming Pope", Francis Bacon)

My preferred medium is acrylics, and I paint on canvas among other things. I lean a bit more towards the realm of multi-media. When I'm in my space of creating an art piece, I usually have a visual in my head of the basic design. Then I embellish on that. My talents do lie within the more traveled forms, but I spend some quality time with that space outside of the box.

("Mark Burgess", Lisa Erin Brown 2005)

The above painting is one I did...well, about six years ago. The photo is not the greatest quality. It definitely doesn't capture it well. One thing people always comment on about my paintings involving people are the eyes. Can't see them very well here. Anyway, I painted this in acrylics. I used three canvases, nuts & bolts, couple of different kinds of washers, and some used bass strings a musician friend gave me. This is one of a series I started, but haven't yet finished. It's of singer/lyricists I admire. I am not a songwriter by any definition, but there are certain lyricists that resonate with me as a writer. Mark is one of those lyricists. If you are reading this, you obviously have my blog up on your computer. That's Mark you hear singing his own lyrics as the front man/bassist for the Chameleons U.K. He seemed to like the painting. I sent him a copy of the photo. Maybe one day I'll get to show him the actual piece. He's a great guy. (Yes, I know him. He's fun to hang out with, and is a rather deep and intense conversationalist.)

______________________________________________

Russian painter, Wassily Kandinsky sits at the top of my favorite painters list. He is considered to be the founder of abstract art. I find his paintings fascinating, and beautiful. His use of color. The geometry of his designs is so exact. So...interesting. They are really exquisite. They appeal to me...because my artistic styles are somewhat reminiscent of Kandinsky's. A person is featured in my painting above, but I on the whole do not paint people. I usually draw or paint abstract designs. I can't even presume to know how someones mind works, but I really dig how Kandinsky's worked. The mood and emotion are so strong. Just brilliant.

("Composition 8", 1923)

("Yellow, Red, and Blue")

("Transverse Line", 1923)

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Art is born from inspiration. Art is inspiration.

It is a creation of the mind, the heart, and the soul.

Not necessarily in that order.

Sometimes one. Sometimes the other.

Every piece is unique. Every piece tells a story. A story that changes with each person.

Art is...art.

(That makes perfect sense to me. Probably because I wrote it...hee hee...)

Down On The Farm...

Blogs are funny things. I mean that as funny/interesting, as opposed to funny/strange. Well, on second thought both apply. The more I share stories about myself (personal experiences and the like), the more I reveal to myself...the more I remember. I'm sure there are some rooms in my mind that were locked long ago and will remain so. Other rooms I've jimmied the locks on. Some I've blown open.

My latest onslaught of forgotten memories was spawned by one of my recent posts, "Night Moon...". I mentioned some 'celestially' based memories from my youth that took place in the late '60's to early '70's. The location was an old farm house in the Atlanta Area. Norcross, to be exact. As I wrote my blog entry, I felt transported as I often do when I write. Flashes of the interior of that house. The horses we had. Our dog named 'Dawg'. After I had posted the entry to my blog, my mind started working on about that house. I heard from someone that it had been declared a historical site and was still there. I was in my early 30's when I heard that, so that was...well, I'll avoid dating myself and just say that it was awhile back...

The door to that particular period of my life has always been slightly ajar...I have always had access to a few vague memories from that time. It has made me extremely curious about finding out what I can about the house. If it is still there, what sort of records could I find on it? I've been in 'Mission' mode. Couldn't remember the name of the road it was on. That seemed to be the most important information to have if you were looking for a house, and I didn't have it. I wasn't even 100% sure that it was in Norcross, but I was reasonably sure. That's where I started. I Googled images for "historical landmark farm house, Norcross, GA" and whatever else I could think of. There were a number of pictures popping up, but nothing even close to what I was looking for, and definitely not the house in question. Then I switched over to the World Wide Web. From there it didn't take very long.

Nesbit Ferry Farm in Norcross, Georgia. There it was on a web site for an architectural firm. They had handled a renovation for the current owners (I assume the owners from that time are still in residence). The site also said that there was a 10-page spread about the renovation in Southern Homes Magazine. That had me excited until a little net surfing told me that the magazine is now defunct. Actually, it changed hands and changed names, format, etc. I plan to contact the newer version of the magazine to see if they might have an archive of the old magazine, if the architectural firm doesn't get back to me. I sent them an e-mail asking for the month and year of the particular Southern Homes issue. Haven't heard back thus far.

This is a 'before' shot they had on the site, and this is pretty much how I remember it. Obviously taken in the winter. On the right hand side of the photo you can see the low wall that goes around the big stone patio. The huge trees within it's borders were usually full of leaves...I remember my dad raking up the leaves during the Fall, and my brother and I jumping in the piles scattering them again. I wish there was more detail in the picture, meaning that it included the big dirt drive out front. It was somewhat circular and there was a big tree in the middle of it. I used to love to create little cities made up mostly of dirt roads that I would drive little toy cars around in.

At the back corner (patio side) is a sun room that I spent a lot of time in. I can remember my brother and I dancing around like goofs listening to my parents Herb Alpert & The Tijuana Brass album. (If you're unfamiliar with the sound, think theme song of 'The Dating Game'). I called my brother as part of my research to pick his brain for whatever memories he had, and he remembered watching the moon landing on our b&w TV in that same sun room.

There was a step up from the sun room into the dining room. That's where my evil older brother had me convinced that the sardines on the antipasto trays my mother made would bite me. Forget the fact that they had no heads...(I know, I have no idea either.)

My parents room was on the ground floor, right across from the stairs up to the second floor where the kids rooms were. There was a curve to the left at the bottom of the stairs, and then it was a straight shot up. I can remember a few times I fell down those stairs. (I actually had a number of mishaps at that house). When you reached the top, my room was to the right and my brother's to the left. (In the picture above, my room is the window above the porch kind of behind the tree to the left, and my brother's is the more visible window.) Some definite memories I have from that house are how creeped out I would get at night in my bedroom. There were a number of times I would wake up in a cold sweat, completely disoriented, and feeling like I wasn't alone in my room. I don't want that to sound like I was utterly convinced that the house was haunted. Yes, I have had some hauntings in my past (which I've written about in this blog), but I don't think that was one. It was an old house full of pops and groans, and my older brother enjoyed freaking me out. We have just shy of four years between us, so I was the annoying little sister. No telling what some of the antics he pulled trying to terrorize me were, but I guess it was his job in a way. Throughout history, older siblings have pranked younger siblings. Moving right along...

(Me on my swing set.)

The barn is out of frame to the left of the house, as I remember. Don't know if it's still there or not. Behind the house is where the fenced in field was where we kept our two horses, Ginger and...I want to say 'Babe'. I mentioned earlier that I had some mishaps at that house. Two involved Ginger. One day I was sitting on a saddled Ginger while my mother led her around the back of the house along the flagstone walkway. Enter a snake. Snake spooks horse, horse rears up, little kid flips off back of horse and cracks head on flagstone. Can you say OUCH? (I'm sure there are a number of people who know me that are thinking, "So THAT'S what happened!") My other event happened with some small similarities. I was on the back of a saddled Ginger, one of the teenage boys that lived at the neighboring farm was over and leading Ginger under a tree. Little kid isn't paying attention, teenage boy doesn't alert her to low tree branches, little kid gets scraped off back of horse and lands on barbed wire fence. I got sliced up pretty badly under my arm. My mother tossed me into the car and whisked me off to the pediatrician's office (Dr. Johnson, I think his name was). Needless to say, I got a tetanus shot.

One thing my brother reminded me of was the nudist colony at the end of our street. It's a subdivision now (looked the house up on Google! Earth). Was kind of a running joke, as I remember. A nudist camp in the middle of some farms. Well, it was the time of Love-ins and Hippies. I'm going to use the nudists as a segue for one of my most vivid memories from that house. The movie shoot.

In those days my father produced commercials. He won some awards, too. (I was actually in a commercial for Sears' Winnie The Pooh Clothing. It was shot at the Atlanta Zoo, and I remember being horrified that I had to hold hands with a boy.) Anyway, I wasn't sure about any of the specifics on the film, but it was a B-Grade...no, that's to kind...it's an E-Grade biker film. I did some researching on that, too, and found the movie by using some of the actor's names. It's called "J.C.", came out in 1972, and is a biker version of the return of Christ. A part of me is rather curious to see it. To see the house, etc. I did find some clips posted on YouTube. It looks absolutely horrid, but apparently is known to be a decent biker film from that particular era that is "unintentionally hilarious". I think the person who reviewed it must have been smoking dope...

The biker gang that follows 'JC' around in the film were actual bikers and their old ladies. I was fascinated by the choppers, and the characters riding them. Hey, I was eight years old. They were "cool". There were a couple of 'names' in the film. Joanna Woodward, who you might know as Tatum O-Neil's mother; Burr Debenning, a character actor you would probably recognize if you saw him; and Slim Pickens, only he wasn't riding a bomb this time. No, he was just 'in' a bomb this time. (I slay me sometimes...) The whole thing was exciting for a kid like me. Being in a more rural area there weren't a lot of neighboring kids to play with. All that activity was great. I have rather vivid vision based memories of talking to Joanna while she was getting her face touched up. The "old ladies" were very nice to me, and a couple of the biker 'dudes' let me sit on their bikes. (I would later learn that's kind of an honor. For a biker to let you sit on his 'hog'. True, I was a kid, but I thought that was the coolest thing.) The best 'visual' memory was from one of the breaks. I was walking by the front porch where Slim was sitting, and he called me up to talk to him. He called me "little lady". Again, I don't remember the specifics of our conversation, but I do remember him being one of the nicest people. A southern good ol' boy, just like you see in the movies. For the time the cast and crew were there, I tried to get as close as I could to the action without being in the way. I didn't want to get sent to my room. Yes, the film looks truly horrible, but I plan to try and hunt down a copy.
Gradually the doors are opening and the memories are being released. I hope I'm able to track down some more on the house, preferably some photos of it's interior. I know seeing some pictures of the various rooms and the layout will help release some more of my mental archives. From my exchange with my brother, it appears that I remember more from there than he does. Some time has passed, so maybe he's remembered more. I'll have to ask him.
This 'learning about history' deal is interesting stuff...especially when it's your own...

If The Universe Were A Beach...

...we would be a tiiiiiny grain of sand. These days, I think it's pretty narrow minded for anyone to think our little solar system is all that there is. Yes, I know the 'Flat Earth Society' is around (yep, there are still folks that believe the Earth is flat), and I have run into the occassional hardcore religious type who thinks that the collection of planets circling Sol are 'it'. I mean...really? They seriously think that all of the scientific evidence to the contrary is false?

Whatever floats their proverbial boat, I suppose.

A friend shared this great video with me. It really puts things into perspective for you...although our planet is the center of our universe in several ways, we are just a speck in the vast cosmos.

A Cool & Sunny Sunday...

This morning I was trying to think of something to do that would get us (Glenn and me) out of the house. An activity that involved something I really don't care for...getting some sun. To say that I am not a sun person would be an understatement. I'm not fond of intense heat, but I will tolerate it if I have to. My eyes don't do well in bright sunlight. Any type of glare will most likely give me a raging headache. Tanning is not something my skin does. Being rather pale skinned, I burn quite easily with nothing to show for it (i.e. browner skin). It also makes me feel ill quite easily. I've often wondered if there are Vampires on my family tree...

I did my catch up online...checked e-mail, caught up with any notifications and 'what-not' on Facebook, etc. While I was going about my business I was mulling over some ideas for an excursion, and when I stepped away from the computer I had reached a decision. A visit to the beach. My usual beach. My current source of relaxation and inspiration. Today's horoscope was kind of my clincher. Now, I don't really pay attention to (much less read) the newspaper horoscopes, but they were sitting in front of me when I sat on the sofa next to Glenn to share my outing suggestion. This is what mine said:

LEO

July 23 - Aug. 22: Visiting a place that motivates you will set a positive mood and provide the opportunity to try something new.

That kind of settled things. I interpreted the message in a slightly different way. I saw it more as a confirmation to visit the place that inspires me for some inspiration to add to my motivation pool for a current project I need to dive into. I've been mentally dipping my toe for awhile, and the time to take the plunge with it is more than ripe. After throwing ourselves together, we made the trip over.

I was definitely dealt a heavy dose of inspiration. With a smattering of calm. It was breezy and quite chilly, but I got some great pictures. This particular visit the tide was out, so there were new things to see and experience. Not that I don't always see something new when I go there. Thus is the nature of...well, nature. Felt the need to share some of my shots.