I have not been creating, but want to share with you some absolutely gorgeous Christmas cards I purchased from PaPaYa:
For my soul sister Diane xo Whose faith is a beautiful thing...
For the new Mrs. McHugh!
For my Soul Sister's Lorri and Grace. OK, OK, I got one for me too, who could resist this hot elf!
And these next two are Christmas presents to myself!
What an artist to inspire my own humble creations, Anahata Katkin. I want to be her when I grow up. But I want to be Koko Taylor, Etta James, Nina Simone, Melody Gardot, Frida Khalo, and Barbie, too! I won't admit it to myself but I wouldn't mind a little Martha Stewart thrown in the mix!
Before M was just M and instead was My Heart, we saw Buddy Guy live. It was very considerate of M to get tickets, he'd seen Buddy numerous times already. Perhaps it was my repeated comments, "I HAVE to see Buddy Guy before I die" that led him to treat me to 5Th row seats to see My Hero. The concert was a tribute to Jimi Hendrix and the musicians were all amazing. Besides Buddy, Jonny Lang, Doyle Bramhall II, Hubert Sumlin, Kenny Wayne Shepherd, Hendrix's original drummer Mitch Mitchell and bassist, Billy Cox played. Mitch Mitchell has since passed away. We were very fortunate to be able to witness his talent first hand.
Not long after that concert we saw Susan Tedeschi. She is touring to promote her new album, "Back to the River". It was an amazing concert, it seemed to be over in minutes. We were WAY lucky that Susan's husband, Derek Trucks, was in town with his own band. He snuck out on stage and played an encore with Susan. It was incredible. My only complaint? That they won't adopt me and let me hang out on their tour bus.
The question comes to mind "what possibilities remain?" Carol Shields wrote this question in one of my favorite novels of all time, "The Stone Diaries". Perhaps my expectations have been too high. I am of the age where I fully understand that love is mostly what you can "tolerate". I don't mean settle. I hate that word. Love, I believe, at this age, is mostly about being able to tolerate someone else having different ideas and ideals, styles of doing things, ways of communicating. One of my most difficult struggles over the years, has been coming to terms with the fact that "my time" is not the same as someone else's. Whether it's a mundane subject like when they are gonna get the trash out to when they are going to be ready to commit, it can't be done in "my time". Man, is that a heard lesson to learn and re-learn and re-learn.
Have you heard -" 40 is the Old Age of Youth, and the Youth of Old Age"?
It is time to acknowledge that my Picker is broke. Has my Picker permanently left the building?
In case there is any doubt, let me go on the record and say, I love men. In person, it shows. My Art is where I let my Anger have free reign. I hope not to be bitter, but to be resigned to reality. Humor is my best defense. Although the words used in my Art can be negative and dark, do not overlook the humor. It is there, thank goodness. When the humor goes, I will hang up my thongs for good.