Connected and Committed

My hero

Tucked way-y-y-y-y-y-y at the end of an Associated Press article from Sept. 25, 2005:

Jose Luis San Pio, father of the only Spaniard to die in the Sept. 11 attacks, said he expects convictions on Monday but wishes no harm to the plotters.

"I have forgiven them," he said in an interview.

Pio's 26-year-old daughter Silvia, who was seven months pregnant, was on the 92nd floor of the north tower of the World Trade Center when the terrorists struck.

"I know it is very difficult and it is almost like a miracle that I can see it that way, but I will recommend to those who have suffered a similar loss that they do their best to forgive those who caused that pain," he said.

I can only imagine what a long, torturous journey it was to hell and back.

But he's found his way to freedom.

I salute you, Jose Luis San Pio. I salute you.

Shattered

There I was, driving along, minding my own business, on my way to see my sweetie, and wham!!!! a huge POP-ping sound exploded next to my left ear, and the glass in the driver's side door disintegrated into piles of green shard pebbles everywhere - on my lap, on the floor of the car, and out on the street, I would imagine. 

I'm still not sure why it happened. I doubt there was a bb gun artist aiming at my car where I was waiting for the light to turn green.  The police man who filed my report (just in case) said that glass can do strange things, according to his connections in the industry.

Since I was at a stand-still just seconds before the explosion, there was nary a drop of blood (OK, one teeny-tiny scratch was discovered later) spattered in the whole process, just weirdness prevailing. I really appreciated my cell phone at a time such as that, to call the police, to call the insurance company, to call loved ones so they could calm me down.

If this had happened when Little Man was with me, or on the interstate just moments before I got off on that exit ramp, well, let's just not think about that.

What was left of the piles got sucked into a shop-n-vac at my sweetie's house, and a sheet of plastic got taped to the door frame, since, of course, it's going to thunderstorm for the next few days. Driving home at 70 MPH with flapping plastic at my ear for three hours just about made me deaf.

The insurance company is sending someone out to my place of business tomorrow morning to replace the glass. I can't quite wrap my mind around how that will be accomplished, but thank you in advance to whoever is going to be doing a superb job. 

Ummmm...

...if there are four steps up, aren't there usually four steps down?

There he goes...

...riding off into the sunset. Happy trails, little man...

Share and Tell

OK, so I'm reading this children's book, Dear Mrs. Larue by Mark Teague to my son, and I'm lovin' the contrast of the dog's character telling his owner via lettes he writes what it's like in the doggy detention center she sent him to - black and white drawings depicting what he imagines it is like, and color drawings depicting what it's really like - and his version is always going for the drama.

So I had the idea of using the letter writing and the dual reality with the WildChild concept, where the WildChild could be communicating with its adult, given a great example like Teague's to stir the creative juices.

So the participants in my Share and Tell will hear me read the actual book, which is hilariously funny, and then get a handout with the above take-off from actual pages, and then these prompts to write about what the WildChild has to say about the retreat experience and what it's going to be like when we go home:

People can write or draw, come back to it later, whatever they want - a place to document what's come up during the weekend and a place to process it in a fun way.

So what do you think?

Little Man's genius

Brilliant. Just brilliant.

Retreat

I'm attending a retreat in October - thanks Mom and Dad, and Sweetie, for all of your support in getting me there - and this is one of the fun favors I made that we are contributing to each other over the long weekend.

Front - "The Resonator Bar - Chockfull of what resonates with you!"

Back - "Ingredients: Wildchild laughter, fun, creativity, toys, permission, chocolate, love, joy, hugs, art, potery, travel, abundance, fulfillment, gratitude, freedom, empowerment, well-being, expectation, integrity, authenticity, fun."

"Spiritual food for the Wildchild in You!!"

Fun. Gotta have the fun.

Art and Food Festival

Lots to eat, lots of eye candy, like these funky mirrors that caught Little Man's attention for a moment. Then he was off to the kettle popcorn.

Interesting recycling of materials...

Vintage kitsch store with a vintage vending machine out front - only one quarter required.

Not a fan, but it was out on the sidewalk too...

I swear we stayed in a place like this when I was Little Man's age.

One of my favorite places

One of my favorite places to dine out is undergoing a huge remodeling effort for the next few months. It's their intention to leave alone some of the ambience in the present construction as they add more space for more people to enjoy their food, some music, some alcohol. So I'm hoping the radiators make the cut...

...and the paintings...

...and the wheat grass. I haven't tried it yet, but I want to.

For now we, the loyal customers, tolerate a slightly altered, temporary entranceway, illuminated with rainbow string lights, with the promise of more to love down the road.

what it's really worth

I've been watching this self-sustaining yard sale go on in my neighborhood for the past few weeks. It's been an estate sale once, and then reverted back to this version. The items up for grabs stayed outside overnight, and as I would drive by in the mornings on the way to work, they were exactly as they were in the daylight - no one trashed the contents. I was proud of my fellow humans on the planet at that moment, in the dark at the stop sign in my car.

Art in the Neighborhood

A dragon fountain in someone's front yard.

The outer wall of a local florist's building.

A local playground. Sarah - I hardly know you, but I'd like to talk.

+++++++

About the travesty in New Orleans. I 'm holding the space for the collective powers that be to step up to the plate and do what they know needs to be done. And not only in NOLA. There are thousands of places in America, travesties just waiting to happen all, but for people willing to step up to the plate. If not now, when? Change happens one open heart at a time. 

at the playground

That ladder - it rises perfectly perpendicular to the ground, and then does a u-ey at the top to reach the slide platform. Anybody else feel like this is a perfect illustration of daily life? Humming along, and then out of nowhere - change of direction...

I've been working on getting a website started, and this blog has been suffering the time drain. However, at some point the website will take on a life of its own and this blog will be an integral part of it. In the mean time...

I read this interview of a famous blogger yesterday, one I faithfully click on every day. She has an incredible following, based on her writing ability and her scorching commentary on life as a mom to a "difficult" child, a post-partum depression sufferer, a SAHM in the burbs, and a rejector of her Mormon upbringing. Her language and style is not for the faint of heart, but it makes me giggle or outright guffaw, and that's what her readers love her for.

I'm still figuring out the boundaries she refers to.