In To The Mystic

 I wasn't going to write on this topic- even though it was on my mind all last night.  It's not my story to write but at times I feel like something much greater than me guides my words. 

 

When I fired up Pandora this morning for my usual writing background tunes, Van Morrison was playing.  Odd.  I have Pandora set to the Lumineers.  I've never heard Van Morrison on all my mornings of listening to Pandora's repetitive rotation.  Maybe I just haven't been paying attention.  But on this particular morning I feel it was more of a nudge from Heaven, a spiritual cue that what most people find easier to doubt might possibly be real.

 

Over the phone last night, wine glasses in hand, my dearest friend Martha and I raised a toast to her one true love, Mark.  Yesterday was his birthday. Martha remarked how strange it was to hear a Van Morisson song playing in the grocery store as she bought him a birthday balloon.  Mark loved Van Morisson almost as much as he loved his garden! In that moment, I could hear his boisterous laughter bellowing out, "Sabadooooooooooo Gigante!!!" for no reason whatsoever as he passed through the house with a box of fudgicles and new veggie plants in his hands.   Larger than life itself, Mark's soul seemed to be right there toasting alongside us. Sadly, Mark is no longer with us on earth.  But when someone lives so fully, so richly, with such genuine love for his family, that type of soul leaves us all empty as we have to move forward knowing his earthly journey is complete.

 

Martha and Mark have been my constant role models.  As parents, as spouses, as friends, these two are soul mates and every step they made together reflected that. I am married to Martha's youngest brother, Kevin, perhaps the most difficult sibling of the bunch! But watching Mark and Martha, I learned marriage means taking the good with the bad and what matters most is family.  Petty squabbles subside into a fuller love and those pesky traits are usually what we miss most when they are gone.  Kevin travels a lot and I miss his sarcastic sense of humor, his mild OCD pantry organization methods, and clop clop clop of his cowboy boots on wooden floors.  But I know he is coming home.  I ache for my friend's heart knowing she does not have that same luxury.

 

So with Van Morisson playing I smile, add the Van Morisson station and listen away.  Perhaps it's just the way every song was written in the 70's? Could Van Morisson, James Taylor, the Rolling Stones, and Otis Redding be sending a sign?  Should I seek professional help? Maybe I read too much into random details. But just maybe the universe weaves a pattern to let us know our loved ones do see us on earth.  Even if it's just me needing a sign for my friend; It is what it is.  I tried to not write this post, but for unknown reasons, I felt compelled. And with every song that played out as I typed- it just seemed  a note someone above wanted to pass on. I am not one to ignore my instincts- so here is what I heard in between my ticka-typing today.

 

Just like way back in the days of old

Let your soul and spirit fly into the mystic.

I've been loving you too long to stop now.

You just gotta see me through another day........

Knock, knock knocking on Heaven's door. 

Faith has been broken, tears must be cried,

Let's do some living after we die.

Just like way back in the days of old
And together we will float into the mystic.

 

LOVE  &  DR. MARK

Lunch At Hendley

There are few places like Hendley Market in Galveston, Texas.  On the historic Strand, visitors are welcomed in with or without dogs and shoes. An eclectic mix of local artists, antiques, vintage, fine art, witty books and penny candy canisters filled with delights for wee folk.  It is a store for all ages and the chronically young at heart.

Housed in one of the oldest buildings in town, I think some past residents were messing with my camera because very few shots came out with any clarity.  Did I mention the fully charged camera battery died off as well?  It was as if the ghosts wanted to keep Hendley's delights under wraps.  I was hoping the trade off would be a spectral figure in my photos- but no such luck.  Just grainy pics at best.

It is an honor to become part of the Hendley vibe.  Today I was invited in for a light lunch and conversation.  Amongst the fine cheeses, asparagus and taffy, I learned the ladies of the shop share my taste in music and my off beat sense of humor. Exactly the camaraderie I needed as Hubby's extended work trip has prolonged the silence in the house.

My Lydia sure is comfy in her new home, tending shop and handing out strawberries!

There is no greater feeling than becoming a part of the community in which one lives.  I have moved so often that this art of assimilation should be second nature, but I am shy at heart.  Hendley feels like a new home with old friends.  Every guest is well known and as one guest said, "Hendley is just so cool.  It's a place we all come to just hang out."

With spring leaving shop doors wide open to welcome breezes across America it is time to get out and taste the local flavors.  Artists have been working the winter away and are ready to share a story while showing off their wares.  So treat yourself to fresh stroll in a familiar place.  Support local business and increase your hometown identity. Be amazed by the many talents who share your zipcode.

 

 

 LOVE  &  SHOP LOCAL

 

 

Pursuing The Dream

A simple thought as I wind down my whirlwind week of crafting.  Many a fine fabric was up-cycled into some characters that have been dancing about my sketchbook and my thoughts.  Though I worked from the moment I woke up until I went back to sleep at night, I have never been happier.  For the past year I have been pursuing my dream of turning my hobby into my career.  The non-stop stitching, promoting, and yes- networking (big gulp for this shy girl) has pushed my boundaries further than I imagined and I am forever changed for the better.

None of this would be possible without one VERY understanding and supportive Hubby. We have always lived our lives in the moment and agree that nothing is worse than a dream that expires into regret. My hope is to one day be self-sufficient in my business and afford him the same opportunity.  The gift of chasing one's dream is priceless. Hubby and I were ghost tripping in Comanche, Texas when we came across this trophy in an abandoned house still full of its cobwebbed contents.  I couldn't help but wonder whose dreams had dwelled here and if those dreams were ever fulfilled.  This little bowler has been my visual cue to keep my dream alive, keep pushing forward, enjoy the journey, and never let my work become just a memory.