berry tales

This is a tough entry for me, but I have challenged myself to make this seemingly egotistical entry before the week ends, so here goes…I have a book I would like to sell. I have been writing a Sunday newspaper column for nearly 7 years and I have put together a little book of Berry Tales. The book includes the first 4 years of my column, from January 2006 through December 2009. It is just $14.95 and would make a great and unique gift for yourself and for people from here, New Iberia, that have since moved – buying local is good you know J.

 The reading is light and positive, includes illustrations, and I hope, in a small way, inspiring. Anyway, I am so happy that I finally did this – it was a bucket list item – and I hope I will do another at the end of 2013 – 4 more years of Berry Tales.

If you are interested in a copy, message me on Facebook or email me at wejamnla@yahoo.com. The life of an artist is wonderful and I would not want it any other way, but the part that involves that left brain business and marketing stuff is very hard and unfamiliar. This is possibly my most awkward and difficult post ever…

here is an iPhone shot of the cover:



 

 here is a small peek within:

 

November 2007

Winter Wishes

 

 

"… It seems most everywhere you look things are red and green and plugged in. You have to know Christmas is near. Tomorrow night there will be a parade on Main Street and I hear Santa will be there as well as floats and dancers and queens and princesses and Christmas music. Our Main Street is such a wonderful backdrop for Christmas pageantry. The shop keepers and store owners have created displays that are delightful and imaginative. I love the way Kimberly’s and Clementine’s have wrapped colored lights outside of their buildings, and  there is an old fashioned feeling when you look in the window at the old Wormser’s and the mannequins at Natalie’s are whimsical and fun. I also love turning the corner onto Iberia Street to see the marquee lights on at the old Essanee Theater. I drove by the other night, it was a bit chilly outside and I could see people inside. I suppose they were creating and rehearsing and doing what they love to do; it all seemed so wintry and theatrical, like something magical from Dickens.

 

I have noticed, however, something has vanished from this season of tinsel and treasure, the Sears Wishbook. It seems to have slipped away with the milkman, Tinker Toys, and fat colored lights that twist in and burn out."

 

And it goes on… Thanks to those of you who have encouraged me to do this – it makes me happy and motivates me to do more, to create more. Art is something I have retreated to my whole life, it’s a place I can go to be happy; I hope these little berry tales can give you joy also.

b u

p s

"How did that happen?"

Life is very different for me now. I wake up on a Saturday morning and I am not scrambling a dozen eggs and juicing OJ; I am making coffee and writing. They are gone, far away gone, from Colorado to the Cresent City. Elizabeth is still here, finishing up the last hoorah but on this Saturday morning she is in Lafayette taking SAT – something she needs to move her on. “On”, will be far away too, it seems. Next year, they really will be all gone. Hmmmm. It is a strange, but good, feeling, kind of mellow.

 The first thing I ask myself on this morning of semi isolation is “How did I do that?” I cannot conceive of waking up to five kids every morning and getting this house in motion. It seems my instinct of survival has blocked that from my memory – too much to absorb, too much to think about? Funny about life, we go through passages almost blindly, doing what we need to do without question and then later, look back and say just what I have said, “ How did I get through that?’ I am not making this declaration in a negative light, it was great, it was magical, it was fulfilling; I just don’t know how I managed to see about all of those people.I'm really not a multi tasker kind of person - I am very, very laid back. I do remember cooking – alot. I also remember the seemingly endless pile of clothes in the laundry room.Honestly, I thought I would live my entire life in that room – forever!  And I do remember the conscious decision to put away my paintbox for those years. I realized early on that that would cause me frustration – to begin a piece and have to go deep into the night to finish it – not worth it. Instead, I think those years and my children gave me inspiration and I think they will manifest themselves in my art – it was the right decision for me.

Anyway, it is early November and I have the day to do as I please – this is a very new deal for me. I am going to enjoy this little piece of freedom for sure but I will always miss my busy home when they all were here and my day was filled with the most important activity of all, being “mom”.

I think of a quote by Jackie Kennedy and hope that I somewhat hit the target, but more than that, I hope they all know I tried my best on that one chance I got ,  just as all of you are…

” If you bungle raising your children, I don't think whatever else you do matters very much.”

just a favorite pic taken on the 100 year old carousel at City Park in New Orleans  - a month before Elizabeth lost her grandmother, my wonderful mom. She was there on the little bench watching Elizabeth go around and around, each time waving as though the first time - this was a very difficult passage for me as "mom"...still is

 

So, whatever your stage in life is, I hope you are trying your best – no one is perfect, but everyone can be the best “them” (most of the time :)).

b u

p s

another chance

I woke up very early this morning, just getting back from Boulder anxious to see how the east coast has survived the stormy night. I am saddened for those people and at the same time being reminded how in control of us Mother Nature is – we will never be that “smart”; she always has the upper hand. In contrast to the horror that is in the path of Sandy, I have just been amongst the beauty that is Colorado. The snow fall from the day before we arrived was still piled on the ground and the night sky over the Rocky Mountains was transcending. Skip and I were there for a wonderful occasion, Matthew and Andrew’s graduation from Auguste Escoffier, a happy occasion and a beautiful setting; my heart could not have been fuller and more grateful. I did not take one beautiful moment or vision for granted.

 I am writing this morning to try to find the words to pass on this karmic feeling I have, trying to find the words to make your day feel as thin and clear as the Colorado air and as new and pure as the snow that fell from that azure sky.

 Unfortunately, I have had to learn many things the hard way but here on this back side of 50, I so clearly understand that each new day is an invitation to start again and the yesterdays of our lives are lessons and inspirations not bogs to get stuck in. Anything can happen and each new day brings restoration. Even as the lights go out over Manhattan and the subways halt, people will come out of this, the sun will rise, the winds will stop, the water will recede – life also follows that same path, this path of nature, this tide of life. Every day we have another chance to be better, to do better, and to get better.

I don’t think Nature has given us these new days , however, to be self-absorbed consumers that have only the mere purpose of accumulating things, things that take from the natural resources, things that cost us a lot more than money. Instead,  I think nature is giving us these new days to use our resources, our natural resources to do good things for humanity – that must be the higher purpose, the other leaves me feeling so empty and shallow.

I watched a bit of the news last night and there was a piece on a 90 million dollar penthouse on 57^th street in NYC being threatened – all I could think of were the gross amount of resources that one person squandered to build a place to live. I suppose they were ego driven or just because they could. Anyway, there I went on a tangent, a rant – so sorry – that is being judgmental and that is wrong, there could have been a very honorable reason to use that amount of natural resources.This is a lesson I have learned along the way and I wish my footprint had been smaller - I do not mean to cast stones...

Today is fresh faced and scrubbed – I hope you find the miracles that are within and focus on the beauty that is there. I end with a picture of a pumpkin patch that is on the outside of Boulder and filled with pumpkins and families gathering presents from Mother Nature and capturing warm memories for their children – so much more beautiful and vital than an overpriced high rise apartment (had to say it).

 

b u

p s

 

looking ahead without falling behind

The moon is somewhat of a sliver tonight and the air is heavy but soon there will be a front that moves in and tomorrow morning will be crisp and fall – like. I look forward to that.

 I felt somewhat discombobbled today. All day I had thoughts going on in my head, words I wanted to put together to tell you something but I was not here. Now, I am here and the words have vaporized. It is so difficult for life to align itself, for everything to be synchronized; components seem to be missing many times. Or are they? Maybe we just don’t see them.

The fronts are struggling to find their way into this delta but change is in the air for certain. The ground is mottled with intensely colored leaves and the woods are tinted with ambers and burgundies, all under an azure sky that darkens suddenly now instead of the slow dimming brilliance of the summer one– Nature is busy preparing this glorious season. It is the last autumn of childhood for me; next fall only Skip and I will remain here in this house, everyone will be far away in school and at work. It is just as it should be but somehow, so challenging a passage for a mother to go through. They were all just upstairs playing or sleeping, rumbling around through childhood, a safe time I thought would never end. Now, it’s a plane ride to see them and a faceless voice when I hear them. They are (wonderfully) grown. Once again, I think of my mother and something she told me. When the twins started Pre –K, I was feeling like this – happy but shadowed by melancholia – and she enlightened me by referencing her own path as mother and told me how she looked forward to each new chapter of our lives. I suppose it is the best way to look at life, to focus on what is up ahead and just use the rear view mirror for an occasional reminder of how wonderful those yesterdays were.

I go forward with that thought and share it with you while I fill my heart with the wonders of yesterday and wait to embrace the gifts of today. And like my mother, I will celebrate each new stage and try to keep my sentiment on the pages of this blog – I so thank you for sharing this place with me and allowing me to get soppy  sometime .

A mother's happiness is like a beacon, lighting up the future but reflected also on the past in the guise of fond memories.
Honore de Balzac

b u

p s

how do you define success?

 

b u

p s