I guess it started with my shrines about Real Women (Don't Look Like Barbie). While searching for mini-Barbie dolls to include in them, I also found lots of other cute, little dolls.
Thus, began my affinity for collecting miniature dolls.
Kewpie, troll, Barbie; Check!
As a young girl, I used to amuse myself for hours playing with paper doll cut-outs (from McCall's magazine) and later, with 3-D dolls that I'd dress up with clothes my mom made from old, kitchen curtains.
Eventually, my dolls went the way of all toys that have lost their appeal and novelty. I moved on to board games, bicycles and then, Ah, boys!
From there, 'twas all downhill.
Fast-forward, today. Glad to say, my love for dolls has returned. I also retain a great fondness for my bike and One Boy in particular, my real-life doll!
Friday, August 22, 2008
Thursday, August 21, 2008
What are YOU selling?
"To market, to market to buy a fat pig;
Home again, Home again; Jiggetty-Jig!"
From the dawn of time, one main thread that connects us to the Earth's earliest inhabitants is the exchange of goods.
The Market. Whatsoever one's material needs or wants can be found there.
For sales reps, it's a showroom; for artists, a gallery; for fishermen, it's a dock. Farmer's markets; flea markets; book fairs; we are surrounded by vendors, vending.
From the humblest open-air bazaars to the New York Stock Exchange, The Market is, in fact, what makes the world go round...
despite rumors to the contrary.
Home again, Home again; Jiggetty-Jig!"
From the dawn of time, one main thread that connects us to the Earth's earliest inhabitants is the exchange of goods.
The Market. Whatsoever one's material needs or wants can be found there.
For sales reps, it's a showroom; for artists, a gallery; for fishermen, it's a dock. Farmer's markets; flea markets; book fairs; we are surrounded by vendors, vending.
From the humblest open-air bazaars to the New York Stock Exchange, The Market is, in fact, what makes the world go round...
despite rumors to the contrary.
Connect the "D"ots
A very interesting report was on World News recently about the importance of Vitamin D.
We've been told over the years how vital all our vitamins are to our physical well-being but this report emphasized the particular importance of Vitamin D for our immune systems.
This got me thinking about my Dad's leukemia and how his immune system was compromised which further led me to remember how much dad hated milk--one of our greatest sources of Vitamin D.
Connection? I think yes!
Pass the milk, please!
We've been told over the years how vital all our vitamins are to our physical well-being but this report emphasized the particular importance of Vitamin D for our immune systems.
This got me thinking about my Dad's leukemia and how his immune system was compromised which further led me to remember how much dad hated milk--one of our greatest sources of Vitamin D.
Connection? I think yes!
Pass the milk, please!
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Got Love?
I saw a sad, old man walking down the street the other day with no particular expediency. He got me thinking about my dad, which made me wonder if this man had any loved ones...or if he'd ever had one great love in his life.
That made me even sadder to think 'how many people go through life without ever knowing real love'...when someone cares about your well-being and considers your needs and wants ahead of their own.
It's easy to look at others and believe we all get what we need but the sad truth is, we don't. There are many people who go without not only bare essentials but the intangibles which don't show...like love.
To love and be loved in return is one of life's greatest riches.
Blessed are they who do!
That made me even sadder to think 'how many people go through life without ever knowing real love'...when someone cares about your well-being and considers your needs and wants ahead of their own.
It's easy to look at others and believe we all get what we need but the sad truth is, we don't. There are many people who go without not only bare essentials but the intangibles which don't show...like love.
To love and be loved in return is one of life's greatest riches.
Blessed are they who do!
Sigh!
It turns out, if all reports are true, the main enemy against all things age-related boils down to one little thing...or I should say, one humongous yellow orb. The Sun.
Oddly enough, a recent report also states that Oregon has a high percentage of melanoma, skin cancer.
Huh? Oregon is cloudy more often than sunny, so how can that be?
Many reasons were cited, one being lackadaisical use of sunscreen here; lots of pale skin going to sunnier climes, coupled with first reason.
But I was surprised one of the main contributors wasn't noted. Even though it's cloudier here, the harmful rays of the sun still penetrate clouds; hence, our skin. Therefore, it's an easy leap to assume Northwesterners don't take the use of sunscreen seriously enough.
I look back on my youthful days of sunbathing--slathered not with a screen but in baby oil to attract more sun--and just cringe. Where were all the experts and warnings back then? Probably there all along but in the din of rock 'n' roll I couldn't hear them nor would I have heeded their message.
As one (ahem!) matures, it becomes infinitely clearer why the saying goes, "Youth is wasted on the young."
sigh.
Oddly enough, a recent report also states that Oregon has a high percentage of melanoma, skin cancer.
Huh? Oregon is cloudy more often than sunny, so how can that be?
Many reasons were cited, one being lackadaisical use of sunscreen here; lots of pale skin going to sunnier climes, coupled with first reason.
But I was surprised one of the main contributors wasn't noted. Even though it's cloudier here, the harmful rays of the sun still penetrate clouds; hence, our skin. Therefore, it's an easy leap to assume Northwesterners don't take the use of sunscreen seriously enough.
I look back on my youthful days of sunbathing--slathered not with a screen but in baby oil to attract more sun--and just cringe. Where were all the experts and warnings back then? Probably there all along but in the din of rock 'n' roll I couldn't hear them nor would I have heeded their message.
As one (ahem!) matures, it becomes infinitely clearer why the saying goes, "Youth is wasted on the young."
sigh.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Personal Problem
Have you, like me, ever wondered about the differences in vegetarianism? If so, have a seat; class is in session. Herewith, a glossary to clarify.
Vegan: Similar to a vegetarian diet but excludes all animal products. That means no eggs, dairy, nothing with gelatin or animal rennet in it. Some people also choose not to eat honey.
Raw Food: In this diet, food cannot be heated above 115 degrees. Those who follow a raw food diet believe foods cooked above that temperature have lost vital nutrients and may be harmful.
Vegetarian: This diet excludes meat from any animal including poultry and fish.
Pescatarian: The same as a vegetarian diet but includes fish and shellfish.
Lacto-vegetarian: a vegetarian diet that includes dairy products but no eggs.
Ovo-vegetarian: a vegetarian diet that includes eggs but no dairy products.
Flexitarian: just as the name implies, this diet is flexible/mostly vegetarian but meat is eaten on occasion.
The last entry proves that vegetarianism is in the mouths of the beholders. It seems to me if one eats more than only vegetables, one would no longer be a vegetarian--OF ANY KIND--with or without a prefix disclaimer.
Furthermore, if I ever heard someone say, "I'm a lacto-vegetarian", I'd say it sounds like a personal problem, best kept to oneself...which is pretty much what I think about vegetarians.
Yawn!
Vegan: Similar to a vegetarian diet but excludes all animal products. That means no eggs, dairy, nothing with gelatin or animal rennet in it. Some people also choose not to eat honey.
Raw Food: In this diet, food cannot be heated above 115 degrees. Those who follow a raw food diet believe foods cooked above that temperature have lost vital nutrients and may be harmful.
Vegetarian: This diet excludes meat from any animal including poultry and fish.
Pescatarian: The same as a vegetarian diet but includes fish and shellfish.
Lacto-vegetarian: a vegetarian diet that includes dairy products but no eggs.
Ovo-vegetarian: a vegetarian diet that includes eggs but no dairy products.
Flexitarian: just as the name implies, this diet is flexible/mostly vegetarian but meat is eaten on occasion.
The last entry proves that vegetarianism is in the mouths of the beholders. It seems to me if one eats more than only vegetables, one would no longer be a vegetarian--OF ANY KIND--with or without a prefix disclaimer.
Furthermore, if I ever heard someone say, "I'm a lacto-vegetarian", I'd say it sounds like a personal problem, best kept to oneself...which is pretty much what I think about vegetarians.
Yawn!
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Any Other Questions?
A fish outta water!
That would surely be me if I were still in Detroit, landlocked and living in an auto town. Not only do I drive a foreign model, my 1987 Honda Accord is festooned with various winged-things. In Portland, whenever people may give me a curious look or a chuckle, I simply say,
"I'm an artist. Any other questions?"
Nope. That always explains it.
Were I driving my "art car" in the Motor City, I can only imagine the looks I'd get alongside top-o'-the-line Escalades and tricked-out Hummers.
But by the time my license plate came into view, it would all make sense. As goes the former Oregon tourism slogan:
"Things Look Different Here"...
...and that's just the beginning!
That would surely be me if I were still in Detroit, landlocked and living in an auto town. Not only do I drive a foreign model, my 1987 Honda Accord is festooned with various winged-things. In Portland, whenever people may give me a curious look or a chuckle, I simply say,
"I'm an artist. Any other questions?"
Nope. That always explains it.
Were I driving my "art car" in the Motor City, I can only imagine the looks I'd get alongside top-o'-the-line Escalades and tricked-out Hummers.
But by the time my license plate came into view, it would all make sense. As goes the former Oregon tourism slogan:
"Things Look Different Here"...
...and that's just the beginning!
Friday, August 15, 2008
Two
Last week I had the opportunity to show and sell my art in The Pearl for First Thursday. Twas a scathingly delightful summer evening with all the usual suspects...and quite a few new vendors since last time I showed there.
The success of this monthly outdoor event which coincides with gallery openings all over Northwest Portland, exceeds itself. It has morphed from a very humble art walk to the "see & be scene" that it is today.
What a difference a few years make!
My artist-neighbor was a very animated painter whose style attracted lots of lookers and quite a few buyers. One woman in particular who was in town visiting, stopped to chat. After living here for seven years, she went back to her native Spain.
Compared to her sunny clime, she definitely doesn't miss the rain, but she went on to say, there are two things about Portland she does miss very much.
I listened intently. I thought it would be Oregon's beauty, its people or its microbrews.
Nah, none of the above.
Imagine my surprise to hear the two things this Spaniard misses the most about Portland is 'First Thursday' and 'Last Thursday'--two very-decidedly Portland traditions.
"Yes!", I thought.
Portland doesn't need bumper stickers claiming a place among the weird. If anything, she is unique, quirky, maybe a little eccentric...after all, we eschew umbrellas in one of the rainiest corners of the world...
But weird?
Nah, we're just being our charming selves, making up the rules as we go, doing what suits us, living and letting live...
...like any good Oregonian would!
The success of this monthly outdoor event which coincides with gallery openings all over Northwest Portland, exceeds itself. It has morphed from a very humble art walk to the "see & be scene" that it is today.
What a difference a few years make!
My artist-neighbor was a very animated painter whose style attracted lots of lookers and quite a few buyers. One woman in particular who was in town visiting, stopped to chat. After living here for seven years, she went back to her native Spain.
Compared to her sunny clime, she definitely doesn't miss the rain, but she went on to say, there are two things about Portland she does miss very much.
I listened intently. I thought it would be Oregon's beauty, its people or its microbrews.
Nah, none of the above.
Imagine my surprise to hear the two things this Spaniard misses the most about Portland is 'First Thursday' and 'Last Thursday'--two very-decidedly Portland traditions.
"Yes!", I thought.
Portland doesn't need bumper stickers claiming a place among the weird. If anything, she is unique, quirky, maybe a little eccentric...after all, we eschew umbrellas in one of the rainiest corners of the world...
But weird?
Nah, we're just being our charming selves, making up the rules as we go, doing what suits us, living and letting live...
...like any good Oregonian would!
Thursday, August 14, 2008
It's a good thing
It's just a word I made up but it says it all: A'rosa'therapy!
My roses smell so good and bring me so much pleasure that the combination of aromatherapy and roses seems like a natural!
Fourteen years ago, when I first moved in this home, I went about filling the perimeters of both front and back yards by planting lots of perennials and roses.
But not just any roses--only those with fragrance! Sweet, spicy, mossy, heady. All words used to describe roses--all of which I own.
When I put my rose garden together, I made sure I got a collection of different colors--with one sweet scent or another--knowing I'd cut and use them in floral arrangements
My roses are not just a thing of beauty; I take time to smell them, too...
...for what good is a sweet rose if a nose doesn't enjoy it?
My roses smell so good and bring me so much pleasure that the combination of aromatherapy and roses seems like a natural!
Fourteen years ago, when I first moved in this home, I went about filling the perimeters of both front and back yards by planting lots of perennials and roses.
But not just any roses--only those with fragrance! Sweet, spicy, mossy, heady. All words used to describe roses--all of which I own.
When I put my rose garden together, I made sure I got a collection of different colors--with one sweet scent or another--knowing I'd cut and use them in floral arrangements
My roses are not just a thing of beauty; I take time to smell them, too...
...for what good is a sweet rose if a nose doesn't enjoy it?
Monday, August 11, 2008
Got Blueberries?
One cream to erase wrinkles; one to retain a dewy complexion. An elixir to undue the past, one to renew the future.
I ain't buying it!
No amount of advertising or marketing is going to convince me that there's a product or "magic bullet" able to undue the ravages of Father Time and Mother Nature's big yellow orb.
I don't believe topical ingredients like retinols and antioxidants are going to bring back youthful skin. Only by resorting to invasive procedures with needles or scalpels can one turn back time. But in doing so, one is only fooling oneself.
Not only do these so-called regenerating serums make unsubstantiated claims, most are very expen$ive! I prefer to get my antioxidants, naturally...
the old-fashioned way...
....by eating them.
Blueberries, anyone?
I ain't buying it!
No amount of advertising or marketing is going to convince me that there's a product or "magic bullet" able to undue the ravages of Father Time and Mother Nature's big yellow orb.
I don't believe topical ingredients like retinols and antioxidants are going to bring back youthful skin. Only by resorting to invasive procedures with needles or scalpels can one turn back time. But in doing so, one is only fooling oneself.
Not only do these so-called regenerating serums make unsubstantiated claims, most are very expen$ive! I prefer to get my antioxidants, naturally...
the old-fashioned way...
....by eating them.
Blueberries, anyone?
Saturday, August 9, 2008
No Ifs, Ands or Butts
For a city that prides itself on being clean and 'green', Portland has a very real litter issue. On sidewalks, in public doorways and thrown from car windows, cigarette butts are everywhere!
Almost as bad as the smoke that comes out of them, these non-biodegradable eyesores threaten our city's reputation for livability.
'The world is a smoker's ashtray', so the saying goes...but that shouldn't apply to a place as progressive as ours. Most residents are too smart to litter; it's a small minority of smokers causing the majority of offenses.
Portland needs a public awareness campaign to raise the consciousness of those who litter, not only their butts, but gum and wrappers or any other superfluous packaging.
There are receptacles for that called 'garbage cans'.
As a kid, I remember many slogans were created to raise good citizens. One in particular stuck: 'Don't be a litter bug!'. This I learned not from the green streets of Portland, Oregon but from the mean streets of Detroit...Michigan!
We require dog walkers to pick up their pooch's doo-doo. Why not smokers, too?
Almost as bad as the smoke that comes out of them, these non-biodegradable eyesores threaten our city's reputation for livability.
'The world is a smoker's ashtray', so the saying goes...but that shouldn't apply to a place as progressive as ours. Most residents are too smart to litter; it's a small minority of smokers causing the majority of offenses.
Portland needs a public awareness campaign to raise the consciousness of those who litter, not only their butts, but gum and wrappers or any other superfluous packaging.
There are receptacles for that called 'garbage cans'.
As a kid, I remember many slogans were created to raise good citizens. One in particular stuck: 'Don't be a litter bug!'. This I learned not from the green streets of Portland, Oregon but from the mean streets of Detroit...Michigan!
We require dog walkers to pick up their pooch's doo-doo. Why not smokers, too?
Thursday, August 7, 2008
All of Me
Such a dichotomy of contradictions, I am.
Introspective and outspoken.
Strong and vulnerable.
Smart and naive.
Those who know me well may not agree but then that only proves, they don't.
Perhaps it's because I am Aquarius, known for being unconventional, unorthodox and non-conformists. As a kid, I was greatly puzzled by these words whose meanings eluded me...especially unorthodox; this conjured up religious notions; an odd fit, for sure.
Years later it all made sense. I came to understand fully the true measure of those words...adjectives which, indeed, do describe
all
of
me!
Introspective and outspoken.
Strong and vulnerable.
Smart and naive.
Those who know me well may not agree but then that only proves, they don't.
Perhaps it's because I am Aquarius, known for being unconventional, unorthodox and non-conformists. As a kid, I was greatly puzzled by these words whose meanings eluded me...especially unorthodox; this conjured up religious notions; an odd fit, for sure.
Years later it all made sense. I came to understand fully the true measure of those words...adjectives which, indeed, do describe
all
of
me!
Rock, Scissors, Paper
As one of the very few urbanites left on this planet without a cell phone, I can honestly say, I heart being unplugged and unavailable.
Of course, I can still be dialed-up the old fashioned way via land line--suits me just fine.
By not using a cell phone, I'm not only saving money, I may be doing myself a health favor, avoiding the very real risk of stimulating cancer cells.
Keys, glasses, water.
That's all I need when I walk out the door. At the rate I misplace my glasses, I really can't afford one more thing to keep track of or lose.
Of course, I can still be dialed-up the old fashioned way via land line--suits me just fine.
By not using a cell phone, I'm not only saving money, I may be doing myself a health favor, avoiding the very real risk of stimulating cancer cells.
Keys, glasses, water.
That's all I need when I walk out the door. At the rate I misplace my glasses, I really can't afford one more thing to keep track of or lose.
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
No Coincidence
OK, I'll admit: I am a big dreamer!
Not just a daydreamer but particularly, while I sleep. I usually can't remember many details but I try anyway. Never sure where I am or what I'm doing there, one thing is recurrent. I am traveling, solo.
What a perfect metaphor for life since we're all temporary visitors on this plane we call Earth. No one can walk in your shoes with your purpose or your gait.
We all walk alone.
Is it coincidence that I live in the state whose slogan boasts: "We love dreamers"?
Nah! There are no coincidences!
Not just a daydreamer but particularly, while I sleep. I usually can't remember many details but I try anyway. Never sure where I am or what I'm doing there, one thing is recurrent. I am traveling, solo.
What a perfect metaphor for life since we're all temporary visitors on this plane we call Earth. No one can walk in your shoes with your purpose or your gait.
We all walk alone.
Is it coincidence that I live in the state whose slogan boasts: "We love dreamers"?
Nah! There are no coincidences!
Monday, August 4, 2008
Music Therapy
Today is a sad anniversary. Four years ago my Papa, dear patriarch of our family, passed away...after, gratefully, only a short struggle.
Sad also because I missed seeing him alive by mere hours, although my siblings assure me I was fortunate not to be there. His audible suffering the night before and refusal of any more morphine, was a sure sign the end was near.
On the flight back to Michigan, I knew Dad was already gone. I needed the truth; it was my oldest brother who called to tell me, "Yes, dad just died..."
I flew with the heaviest heart, trying to hold back tears, glad to have my mate's shoulder to cry on.
It's only been four years, but it feels like forty!
Maybe all these mixed emotions are what compelled me to find and listen to Neil Young's "Old Man" today.
Oddly comforting but taking it wherever I can get it.
Sad also because I missed seeing him alive by mere hours, although my siblings assure me I was fortunate not to be there. His audible suffering the night before and refusal of any more morphine, was a sure sign the end was near.
On the flight back to Michigan, I knew Dad was already gone. I needed the truth; it was my oldest brother who called to tell me, "Yes, dad just died..."
I flew with the heaviest heart, trying to hold back tears, glad to have my mate's shoulder to cry on.
It's only been four years, but it feels like forty!
Maybe all these mixed emotions are what compelled me to find and listen to Neil Young's "Old Man" today.
Oddly comforting but taking it wherever I can get it.
Ewwww!
In an effort not to offend foreign visitors, Chinese officials have ordered all food venues to curtail the sale of "prepared dog" on their menus during the Olympics.
Upon reading this report, my immediate response was "Ewwwwww!" but the truth is: had I grown up eating dog meat, I'd probably think nothing of it...just as I do whenever I eat cow, pig or chicken.
Were those animals singled out as acceptable livestock to slaughter and consume in America because, aesthetically-speaking, they're the least attractive? The most plentiful?
I kept waiting for the author to report that dog tastes "just like chicken" but was surprised to read it tastes like lamb. That's some strong meat!
I'm not going to make any wise cracks about tough times in America and missing dogs but I will say this. Despite not being a "dog" person, the very thought of eating man's best friend makes me want to heave...
...proving once again, we are all nothing more than creatures of habit and indoctrination.
Upon reading this report, my immediate response was "Ewwwwww!" but the truth is: had I grown up eating dog meat, I'd probably think nothing of it...just as I do whenever I eat cow, pig or chicken.
Were those animals singled out as acceptable livestock to slaughter and consume in America because, aesthetically-speaking, they're the least attractive? The most plentiful?
I kept waiting for the author to report that dog tastes "just like chicken" but was surprised to read it tastes like lamb. That's some strong meat!
I'm not going to make any wise cracks about tough times in America and missing dogs but I will say this. Despite not being a "dog" person, the very thought of eating man's best friend makes me want to heave...
...proving once again, we are all nothing more than creatures of habit and indoctrination.
Sunday, August 3, 2008
Past Lives
Though I'm grateful not to have lived during Victorian times, encumbered by layers of garb and prurient attitudes, I find many of the graces that came out of that era to be very endearing.
Life may not have been easy but it was simpler. Afternoon tea was a time set aside each day to take a break and enjoy one of life's natural beverages.
I have an affinity for vintage things.
When it comes to music, I dig classic rock and American standards; retro household items, too, for nostalgia's sake. With an old Raleigh bicycle and an '87 Honda Accord, my love for old things makes me wonder, "Am I an old soul"...
...or just old?
Life may not have been easy but it was simpler. Afternoon tea was a time set aside each day to take a break and enjoy one of life's natural beverages.
I have an affinity for vintage things.
When it comes to music, I dig classic rock and American standards; retro household items, too, for nostalgia's sake. With an old Raleigh bicycle and an '87 Honda Accord, my love for old things makes me wonder, "Am I an old soul"...
...or just old?
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