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Breaking Pig Cup

Posted by on May 16, 2014 in Blog | 0 comments

I spent three years toiling over my labor of love, my book My Soul to Keep.  What I toiled over was what will you think of me.  Will you think I am deranged, mentally ill?  I was afraid to put the book out, what will they think when my character is put on a bed of broken glass tied and bound.  They will think I have lost my mind.  Sweet ole me was writing about a serial killer and how my main character Carolina Stronghill would survive.  In the process of wringing my hands and pouring my soul on the page for the world to see, I wrote about my...

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Easter and Reflection

Posted by on April 21, 2014 in Blog | 0 comments

This year, Easter has been a time of reflection for me. I was thinking about the symbology of the crucifixion and the rise of soul.  Upon that cross, I nail all of my past thoughts, beliefs, and ideology.  I whip and scorn away all the guilt, the sadness, and the anger.  And I have been thinking about the rise of the new me from the scared little girl to the adult willing to take more risks and a little more adventures.  It is also been a time of remembrance, last week we lost a matriarch within our family tree.  And as I reflect about the...

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You’re Fine!

Posted by on April 18, 2014 in Blog | 0 comments

I was at a friend’s house after a particularly brutal in my mind, bike ride, and it was full of life, little children running, playing, adults chatting, and general overall chaos and fun.  My friend and I had just trained for an upcoming bike challenge, the MS bike ride.  I was feeling deflated and disgusted, I didn’t go as far, I was tired, and really just wanted to quit.  As I was thinking those thoughts, sweat pouring down my face, and drinking lemonade in her house, when one of the little children as all four year olds do, tripped, and...

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Glass Jars

Posted by on April 12, 2014 in Blog | 0 comments

  I was told only post or display my best work, but I am posting this one because I think it is a teachable moment. It is not one of my best pieces of artwork. In this painting is a thousand things I could of have done differently and thousand things I need to do, but that is not what’s important. What is important is what I learned, pretty much my complacency. I don’t pretend I’m the greatest artist, really I’m just an infant in the world of art, but it is something I truly love and enjoy. Most of my paintings come from my husband’s...

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Rhinos and the Power of Belief

Posted by on April 5, 2014 in Blog | 1 comment

The other night, I was watching a television news program about the extinction of Rhinos.  Poachers have a new method of thieving horns, a rhino’s only defense in the wild beside his armor like skin.  In essence, the poachers use a tranquilizer gun to bring the rhino down in the middle of the African landscape, alone and unprotected, the poachers hack away the horn and leave the Rhino to wake up beaten, broken, and bloodied.  The rhino was left in a pool of his own blood, bewildered and in pain, all for a powerful belief.  In Vietnam, where...

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So who has the imagination the writer or the reader?

Posted by on April 4, 2014 in Blog | 0 comments

So who has the imagination the writer or the reader? As usual, I was thinking about this in my waking hours of 3:00 am, the great time when the greatest thoughts occurs and in which by the time I wake up I forget the. But this time, I have pondered this for several nights. We as writer’s have been gifted with imagination in so many forms. I meet writer’s almost on a daily basis who have the great power of imagination and take people to world’s and places I have never hear of or dreamt of. They describe in detail the pain, humiliation, joy and...

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My irrational fear of escalators

Posted by on April 2, 2014 in Blog | 0 comments

Did I tell you that I have this irrational fear of getting on an escalator? Not a huge one, I still step on, but always with some trepidation. The escalator rolls and as each step passes by, I put my foot out and then pull it back. It takes me a couple of times and some days are better than others. My husband rolls his eyes and steps out, never fearing getting his shoelace caught in the brutal ridges of the stairs. Your next question besides am I on medication, no I am not, is so take the stairs? I hate stairs. I hate stairs with a passion,...

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A walk with my sister

Posted by on November 3, 2013 in Uncategorized | 0 comments

Last week, I took a walk with my sister over to the glass dump where there are layers of broken glass. Pieces thrown over time and broken into shards. It was one of the most beautiful days I have seen since I moved to Albuquerque five years ago. In the middle, of the glass dump, we were surrounded by Rio Grande Cottonwoods changing from the last shades of green to the deep color of golden rod. The rain was coming and so the skies were filled with pregnant clouds of deep purples and grays. Our conversation was simple and I kept looking for...

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Riding for Honeycomb

Posted by on October 13, 2013 in Uncategorized | 0 comments

Legend has it that she stopped me on the trail as I was riding my bike and a friendship of a lifetime began.  I was riding on my bike to train for an upcoming bike trip to Amsterdam.  Introvert that I am and trying to hide the fact that I was dying for air, I kept my head down and didn’t say hi to anyone.  She would pass me by and say hi and the more I bicycled on the Bosque path the more I became familiar with her friendly salutations and began to reply back.  One day she stopped me and introduced herself to me as honeycomb, a nickname...

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My Soul to Keep

Posted by on August 7, 2013 in Uncategorized | 0 comments

The tears blinded me as I looked into the rearview mirror. My reflection through the haze of mist and pain was that of a red-eyed monster with wild blonde hair. The car forced me to pullover. The door hinge screeched in protest as I pushed the door open. A dirt devil whirled around me and lashed my skin, then disappeared into the sky. My tongue tasted dirt and salt. Anger welled, the monster rose, and I kicked the front tire and beat on the hood with my fists until the skin was red and my bones were bruised. Steam rose in spits and spurts....

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