Jeans and Q's

Okay

I know I have been absent

and tho I knew there would be a

time I would take this untimely

needed break.

I did not expect

it to last so long...

to the point I have had even

chest gripping anxiety over

even a short visit to my own blog.

Was it because I just turned fifty

and I seemed at a loss to

relate my own ideas about it?

Which have changed as

the month quickly

become Oct.

Or was it simply

the things in which I could

relay here...

were just too big for this arena,

not ready for my tendency towards too

much truth telling?

Probably!

But I have missed the fun

and creativity of it

and plan to return with

the new adventures

of being an artist in the desert

and an swimming challenged

athlete on the water.

Meanwhile, let me comment

on one scarey thing...

that moment when

you try on your jeans

for the first time because

it is actually cool enough to do so

and your not sure they will fit after

a summer of indulging

and wearing nothing but

sarongs and paddle shorts,

with my upcoming trip to

Albuquerque for the Balloon Festival

and their cooler temps...

I will need to

I will know soon enough...

(And that is another thing

that is scarey...

trying to spell Albuquerque

without looking it up,

so many vowels and Q's)

Geez!!!

Surrender

so it comes with

it’s own heave of

grace given weight

to put us on our knees

in gratitude and grief

to the beauty of breaking

more open...

more willing,

more heightened

more expanded

more of everything

right up to the edges

to spill forth

in rivers of wet weeping

life force

that wants and doesn’t...

want it all

to be left dripping

in puddles

of passionate choices

that led the way

the way we could not

not follow

to our running, our flying

our being tossed

and turned

to be back on our knees

in grief and gratitude

and in humble repose

waiting for the next wind

to blow us...

away!

Nothing profound

been waiting for something

profound

to come into my head...something...

anything to write about

...waiting,

waiting,

still nothing

at least nothing profound

that is...so

when wondering

what will happen

when a bubble wand

is placed in front of a room fan

just do it!

Won't say here...oh but you must try it!

And when did my beloved crayons

add a website address to each color...

a span off 50 years is crossed

on this treasured childhood tool!

Seems, like if I am not acting

hormonal crazy, my friends are...

how long is this going to last

and should we be obligated to

hide out in our own homes

when we are having one of those

"I hate everyone especially, you"

kind of day?

I think it's probably the polite

thing to do!

Is being a Virgo weirder than any

other sign?

Probably not, but I've noticed

when I am speaking to another Virgo

we have our own language...

so would that be speaking Virgoees,

Virgoism

Virgoian or Virgoish?

Someone told me the other day

I should sit with the thought!

Hmmm, so if a friend calls and

asks to come over

would I say

"no, i am sorry I am sitting here

with a thought?

Always wish I was older during the 60s

instead of ten...and why is it every

time I tell a story... I am always ten?

What happened to the other ages?

After a rain in the desert doesn't it

smell wonderfully like wet dirt?

And you want to catch it on your tongue

like a snowflake....

which makes no sense at all.

And then this...

why doesn't any one make paper airplanes

anymore and do they also have a website?

Happy Wednesday!

P

Celebrate the Temporary

On my living room wall is the inscription,

"Celebrate the Temporary."

Thats what bubbles are and why

I am so fascinated with them, such

a celebration of fleeting, floating,

filament of beauty. And if you are

lucky enough to be popped wetly

on the nose by one, you know you have

been truly kissed by a temporary moment.

Bubbles remind me to remain

playful and astonished by little treasures.

Like this one....

Tuesday a.m. on the river in a canoe,

didn't really want to be there

initially, too early, too hot but if

I had whined my way into staying

home, I would have missed

a moment of significance!

Kuba was on shore.

Kuba after six weeks of chemo

and radiation.

Kuba, my seat one from

Hawaii's 18 mile race.

(18 miles she has since made me

pay for by making ME be

"one" in every race, since)

Kuba, the bravest, most vigilant woman

I know...looks on with a fragile softness,

I can't reconcile at first...

that feeling of, "oh no I can't do this again"

rises in my throat.

But I know I will, I know I will be

her teammate in this race as well.

That I will stand by in ways

I didn't know how to before,

fill in the gaps in ways I missed before,

to celebrate any moment

she sits in front or behind me.

The morning light on the mountains

and the reflection of the yellow

and red canoes

drifting in threes

on the water was beautiful...

the voices of laughter ripple

the dawn air,

and Kubas' is among them...

this is being popped

in the nose by a bubble,

wetly kissed by wonder,

a celebration, if paying attention,

to the merriment and magic

that is always there...

somewhere!

Piperain

Photo by Ed Earley

Wild Rain...Wild Women

In the rain, under a poetic pillar of pines and the

darkening sky of Wheeler Park, I sketched four new

Wild Women designs...I was a on a roll, not to be

stopped...was this inspired by the real life Wild Women

I met? May be? Women who were either trapped with me

in a dripping tent, while the daily storm passed, or long

time lovers of Flagstaff, up to beat the heat of the valley,

or friendly locals out to support the Art Festival, familiar

and new faces!

It seemed, some "gift" was slipped quietly to me,

in words, in a tale of loss...told with a tearful

glance, an idea that became a passion of purpose that

gave me chills, spontaneous hugs from strangers and

like me, an older than average athlete, making the

"impossible" possible!

Not to mention the friends, brand new and long term,

that I had the pleasure to laugh heartily with in the "hobo"

camping lot, exchanging ideas (gripes and wine or "whine")

about the nature of creativity and selling it! There

was stuffed dog toy, that looked to have been not only run

over by an oil truck but pulled apart and mangled by "love?"

Someone stated this was the state of artists in this economy.

Not so... I say! For my "fur" gleamed gold, my button eyes,

bright (and not missing) SO rich were the meetings and playful

minds of strangers/friends who had something to tell

this week end!

When I noticed a women wearing an Outrigger Rig Run

(my favorite race) t shirt in my booth, friday...I could

barely speak... I know... who cares, right? I do, especially

when I am this far from the ocean, such an uncommon sight!

A paddler from Oceanside, who had all but taken the season

in firsts in Golden Senior Masters. We shared "paddle stories"

in a park in the middle of Arizona and were instant friends

and the ocean was never more present. Thanks Ruthe!

As young girls in grade school and Jr. High...remember how

painful the whole scenario of "being (or not being) best

friends" could be to our fragile hearts? Yuck! Who would

want to go back to that time? I would, if I knew Krista!

The creator and founder of bestfriendsclub.com! She facilitates

groups and activities, teaching young woman how to make

lasting friendships with each other and how to be kind.

The excited passion in her eyes as she spoke of it...moved me.

We knew with certainty there would be a collaboration between

her work and mine. Yaaay... the younger version of Wild Women!

So what is an alter ego? Ever thought of having one?

Or do we all have one and just don't dare tell anyone?

Hmmm? After meeting Dawn aka Daphne, whose friends

didn't want to go away on a "girls trip",so

she went "anyway." Enjoying herself and her time alone!

I applaud that and took time to ponder

the idea of an alter ego...more on that later. Ha! But good

for you Dawn, or is it Daphne? Thanks for the reminder

to be as different as we can be!

There was Julie / Madrone, (which I just love,

a name inspired by the red bark tree of the waters,

she said) she told me of the "women's way" gatherings

of Longdance and the Red Lodge, something I am inspired

to check out! Such treasures of information I am collecting!

We are at" that age", everyone keeps telling me!

The age of...what shall we call it...the reconciliation of

loss...mortality...? In a brief meeting, Meg, told me of losing

her mother and the overwhelming responsibility of settling

the estate in the middle of the emotional wreckage and

what keeps her centered is..."what would mom want?"

She said, she trusts in the "uninvited guests" to guide

her and welcomes them. I thought her

sense of peace was breathtaking!

And last, but not least, dear Laura, who supports me

without fail, dragging many a friend to meet me (whether

they want to or not), even in the middle of a monsoon

downpour (but we had fun chatting away under the roar

of the thunder, huh?) I know you say, I inspire you,

but truly, your gentle spirit and silent wisdom

inspires me to continue to have faith in what I

attempt to do..sometimes blindly! Thank you for your

support and as always good to see you!

With the inclusion of Liz, whose artwork is stunningly

"wild" and her smile huge (was that champagne bubbles

coming out of your ears?) Carla, who makes me want to

blog, blog, blog, (great info) and funny goofy Megan,

who needs to be a stand up comic, (you'd give Ellen a run

for her money, girlfriend!) KimmBerly whose familar face of

twelve years, looks very happy! And Carolyn whose

consistent ongoing friendship makes me want to weep

impulsively in public! (great... thanks)

So these are my Wild Women teachers for

Independence day 2009.

This week end left me wondering... is Flagstaff

where I should be? All these amazing women?

We will see.....

Pam aka Piper Rain

Wild Women Merchandise?

Enough about paddling and..life

how about Wild Art?

I have four new designs...

for my new "Wild at Heart"

party gift tote.

(available in September)

They will be placed

on the things I love...

a bubble wand, journals, crayons

coffee cups etc.

It has been decided the Wild Women

are too cute to just hang on

the walls any more,

lets play with them instead

and celebrate our simple moments.

Paddling is Life

Good to be sore, I suppose,

not just “sore” but I can’t sit,

I can’t walk, I can’t get up,

I can’t move, sore.

And to know it‘s because

I challenged myself...

beyond my age,

beyond my athletic strength,

and beyond my comfort level

and Won... (so to speak...)

if this is what winning feels like?

ugh, ouch... and yaay!

On the beach at O dark 30!

With piles and piles of stuff for the day.

Even tho we were the first

ones there... the air

already sparked with energy,

our energy.

The boats line the shoreline

asleep on the sand

patiently awaiting the “ride”

within in the hour,

every inch of the beach is covered

with canopies, people with BIG smiles

and paddles and more “stuff” than us.

Carolyn keeps whispering in my ear

“we are so lucky,

we are so lucky!”

Its true, so grateful for this time,

this adventure!

I had already vowed to make this

the best of times,

having learned a painful lesson last May

of not being in the moment.

While grieving a personal loss

to the point of sullen self absorption,

I missed the moments I sat next

to Jen on our last van ride together...

(oh what I would give to have

those six hours back!)

Looking around I see

the passing moments

of the years...the ghosts of “us!”

...lined up shoulder to shoulder

in picture after picture...

I see "them"

the six as one girls everywhere,

I see Jennifer’s smile against

the backdrop of sunshine...

wishing I had known the temporary

fleetingness of it all..

but I do now and I will take no

“thing” for granted!

As race time gets closer, bullfrog burps

expound from my throat...

my new teammates are surprised,

although they had been warned

little me, big sound? May be!

Then it is into the boat

and out to sea

everyone talks to me.

(maybe too much)

It is rough right away,

and the start with it’s usual

drifting array of colors

doesn’t happen,

everyone is on the move

without the flags,

so we went as well but too

far back to begin with.

The horizon goes up and down

it is like a roller-coaster...

a wet one and I remember I don’t

really LIKE roller-coasters...

and I am remembering I don’t really

LIKE the ocean either...

but here I am

my hair like a drenched stringing net

over my salt coated glasses

I can't see...

as wave after wave hits me in the face.

I lose my gum when I breathe

too much,

and I doubt I can go another minute!

My paddle only touches water

every other stroke...

"how to keep the pace when all I scoop is air?"

is one question,

another is,

"how do I not get washed over board?"

and then,

"what the hell am I doing out here?"

And isn't this a little like life?

I used to say, "paddling is life"

how you are in the boat,

is how we are in life!

So I relax a bit, go with it,

move forward, despite the plummetting

water crashing into me,

despite my terror of the huli

that nearly happened...

(confident my teammates thought

of me as they

threw their body weight

to keep it upright...

thanks everyone..

even tho I was resolved to it

and had one foot over the other side)

so maybe the ocean is life...

and I am just a bobber on it,

learning to swim and find my way,

staying put while moving forward,

prepared to being upside down at times,

life IS A roller coaster,

whether you like it or not

and sometimes I may actually earn a medal

for doing something...

I have no business doing!