Hope

I usually stick to gallery business but once in a while…I throw in a story. The past weeks have been full of things that have happened to you… to me and to others…and there are things that I would like to say.

Some of you know me and others don’t. I’ve worked in the Printing Industry for more years than I care to let on. I don’t have grey hair yet but reading glasses are definitely coming into play. I’ve already purchased 1.0 readers from Rite-Aid with a scowl. I work during the day, which allows me to have the gallery, opening it only at night. I’ve worked with the same folks, grown with them, cried with them and thankfully have had many more laughs with them than a person has a right to. I wouldn’t trade those years for all the money in Saudi Arabia. You can’t buy the love I hold inside for each and every uniquely lovable one of them. Well, there might be one exception…but I figure karma will take care of him.

Our company had 3 owners originally and I learned from and respected each one for their individual gifts. We lost our “Money Man” one month ago to a sudden heart attack. He was semi-retired and enjoying his life and it hurt his family tremendously… the suddenness and finality of his death. He was a good man. We lost our “Big Boss Man” today. He had been retired for many years but he was my mentor and our founder and very dear to all our worn and withered, printer hearts. He hired me 21 years ago, actually patting me on the butt and sending me into the pressroom…like a lamb to the slaughter. I was a very young 30, without an ounce of confrontational skills, working with men I knew who would not take me seriously. Such was my very first day. I still howl at that memory and wonder at the respect I ultimately came to earn… and the fierce protectors and champions each and every one of them came to be around me. Tonight, my heart goes out to both Families because I know what it is to lose a beloved Father. I would not want to endure it again. The last owner asked me to send a mass email….and in it I said the things I knew had to be said to be proper…but I finished with something about how Gutenberg was about to learn exactly “How it’s really done” 😉 Chuck would have liked that and I owed him.

I looked out into the shop today and watched the faces I have come to love. I see an economy that hurts our industry and make me fearful for all these people around me. I do not know what the future holds and with times as they are, people are amazed to find that I do not watch TV or read the newspaper. I am an optimist by nature and do not like being brought into the harsh realities the news wants to pull us down into. I may be naive in my own little world but I will continue thus so because I will not be polluted by negativity. Bad news sells, along with Brangelina appearances and American Idol songs. But If my mind can stay positive with the world in turmoil, I win a battle every day. I can smile at my fellow man in hopes of making them wonder at what simple secret I hold… that they do not. Fact is, you can choose to be positive in your own mind…or you can make it seem as hopeless as you like. For me, if the sky falls tomorrow, I’m going to be searching for a way to lift it. I was given this life by the grace of God and I almost screwed it up once…I wouldn’t dare waste it again.

Take a good look around you. If you can say you have one friend, if you have clothes on your back, if your children have enough food to eat and if you still have breath in your lungs…you are better off than allot of people who deserve better than their circumstances have given them. If I lose my job tomorrow, if I lose the gallery next, I will still be who I am. I can and will go on and I don’t need the government or Hollywood or the news people to tell me what to feel. And I will make a new dream out of whatever is left from the ashes of the old.

Don’t let the negativity surrounding you…infect you. Keep on going. Don’t look back. Hell, don’t even look sideways. Just keep on going straight. Plant some goodness in your soul and a smile on your face because people need to see it. ..and they need to know it’s ok to have hope.

attitude

A friend up in the Bay Area shared this with me today. I thought I would share it with you…

More enthusiastic guests

The real test of anything cool is to ask a teen what they think. I had three very lovely girl’s stop by for a short visit with their Mother, none of whom I’d previously met. I told them what Anuvue was about and what my future plans were and they were all very enthusiastic. When I can make three teenage girls grin from ear to ear (and eyes light up, dance and sparkle)…well people… that’s a very good sign. They graciously modeled for me in front of my little mural and well, you can see for yourself, just how charming these three are…

This week’s lesson

What a week! Today is March 8th and I finally just got into my new studio. I learned a very valuable lesson about people and business this week. I learned to not trust and to get things in writing. I met my landlord about 2 months ago when I signed my rental agreement. I paid 3 months in advance and he told me the previous tenant would be out by the 1st…no later than the 3rd…and that he would take care and adjust my rent if it ended up the 3rd. Sounded good to me. Now I have, from time to time, popped into the building to measure this and recheck that and have even brought people with me to make some drawings. There are 2 guys, one being the actual tenant and one being his longtime friend, councilor and CPA. These guys are Mormons and both were very nice to me when I initially met them. Then, most of time I re-visited, it would just be the CPA guy there working away, trying to fix the other guy’s financials (because he was losing his business). I grew to really like this guy. He used to work a very unhappy 9 to 5 job (which I understood) and he was humble and sweet. He gave me some brief financial business advise and I designed him a new logo (for his new self employment), printed him some business cards and brought him cookies That I mercifully didn’t make).

On the 29th of February, a long awaited leap year, I showed up at the building, peeked my head in and yelled hello. They were both there on this occasion…along with all the furniture, desks, computers, files and gigantic tv . Nothing had been moved, boxed or organized. I asked what was up and they both said” Is this the end of the month already?” ALARM BELLS GOING OFF IN MY HEAD. Yes, yes it is. That’s when the tenant spoke up and said Oh, we’ll be out of here by the 3rd, no worry. Well, I wasn’t going panic because I had heard that it could be the 3rd. Sadly, I wouldn’t have that weekend to clean. I left after a brief, friendly conversation with the CPA guy, who at that time felt bad and actually gave me his own key. He walked me down to the mailbox to show me where it was while I asked him how his buddy was doing. I’m a nice person, I wanted to be sensitive to the guy losing his business. He had after-all, done alot of work to the room I would soon occupy…I didn’t want to rub salt into the wound.

I left and everyday, I would drive by. This guy has about 50 cases of bottled water on the patio outside the office and I knew when I didn’t see them, he would be gone. I at one time asked him if he was taking it with him (he had gotten it free from the beach games they have in the summer where vendors pass it out). I told him that it could be donated to the Boy Scouts or Girl Scouts but he said he would be leaving with it and I dropped it after that. So I drove by on the second…still water bottles, the 3rd…still water bottles and on the forth day I finally called him. No answer. Later that day he called to say that the guy buying his furniture had not come to get it so he needed to stay until the 5th. It was at this point that I said I would have to call the landlord because he needed to adjust my rent.

Now you must keep in mind…this tenant guy called me on the phone once to warn me that after I had already verbally told the landlord I would take the office, he showed someone else the space…the tenant said “you seem like a nice lady, I just want you to know that this happened. My husband told me to calm down and that the landlord was just covering his rear, in case I backed out because I hadn’t actually signed the contract, just verbally said yes. It wasn’t my deal that the contract hadn’t been signed. It was the landlord’s not coming down with a contract for me to actually sign. He said, no worry.

Anyway, back to why I was willing to trust the tenant. It was because of this call of warning. I felt he was looking after me knowing all the plans I was making and times I had visited with his buddy to measure something. So when I said I needed to call the landlord to tell him…the tenant said no, no need to bother him…I’ll just pay you. I did not want to do this. Everything in me told me no. But that call… I really had no choice when he said the 5th because none of his stuff was gone yet and I couldn’t very well carry it out myself.

Well you guessed it. The 5th came and went and no phone calls to say, I’ll come give you the keys to the space and the bathrooms. I drove by and yes, same lovely water bottles. On the 6th I drove over before work..and low and behold…a moving van!. I went to work happy, knowing this would all be over. No phone call came that evening so I called him. No answer. Tried the next day..same water bottles and same no answer…and no returned calls.

Friday after work and after calling him 2 more times, I went over and let myself in. I saw the tenant’s desks and files and immediately left making sure another 2 tenants saw me leave quickly and with nothing that did not belong to me. I called the landlord. I told him the situation. That his tenant just would not leave and that I didn’t know him, didn’t want to be involved and just wanted him to know that I still had not been able to move in.

Now this is where it gets really good. The landlord told me that once I gave the not-leaving tenant an ok to stay (which I didn’t really, I just never had a choice) and that he had an agreement to pay me, it was my problem to get him out. He said I had a key to let myself in and that I could have asked him to get out and that he (being the landlord had nothing to do with it). His contract was now only with me!

I will give him that one credit. He was right when he said I did not call him on the first and tell him. I didn’t and I didn’t because he told me himself it could be until the 3rd! I was so dumbfounded at this point I know I was yelling into the phone. I simply could not believe what I was being told. That it was my space, the contract was for the 1st and I should have moved in. If I didn’t want the space, I didn’t have to take it and that he would rent it to someone else. I explained that I would never move into a building that had someone else’s belongings inside and he said, well, you should have because it was yours to move into! My contract with him ended and mine began with yours. At this point I decided I was dealing with at least 2 lunatics and started to really wonder if it was all going to be worth it. I got in my car and drove to another building that had just come up for lease, called and was told how much…too much…and too much work.

A friend of mine accidentally called my number and while on the phone, I needed an ear and vented my story. It was at this point he “hostage negotiated” me into calmness. He said to go to the building, change the locks and pack the guys sh– up. He actually told me to toss it onto the parking lot but I’m just not that person (in this life anyway). I called the tenant again. No answer. Then, while talking on the phone to my husband, or rather yelling into the phone with frustration…the idiot chose to call and leave a message. My guess was the landlord called him (and threatened him) and magically he called me back to leave a freaking voice-mail. I immediately called back and you can guess…no answer. I drove over to the building, opened the door for the second time with the key his friend had given me and stood in the space. The tenant’s desks were still there, office junk, computer stuff and many (what looked to me) important personal files… But in those few minutes I allowed myself to walk and really look at the room, a calm came over me. I looked at the space…really looked at it. I knew it was meant for me…even if I almost allowed 2 complete assholes to destroy a dream for me.

I went home and called a locksmith. 😉 At this point I had my husband step in. He was actually working this weekend but he made the call to the tenant warning him that the locks would be changed at 5pm and that he had better get his stuff out and also bring me 8 days of rent…in cash. I waited all day at home for him to call or show up. At 5pm I went to the building and yes, the water bottles, desks and all the other were still there…no call. I hoped at this point the guy was in jail…and couldn’t call. I had the locks changed and never once was I worried about the tenant showing up. I had told the locksmith my dilemma and that I was a bit leery about the guy, knowing changing the locks would piss him off. The locksmith smiled, told me he was one of 5 brothers, all from Israel…Military trained in Special Forces…and I had not a reason in the world to worry. How lovely it was that he came (or was sent to me). And that, my dear readers, was the first laugh I had in 3 days…

Later, my husband and brother-in-law came and we packed all the tenants crap up. I had to talk them out of throwing it into the dumpster…because I really want to dump it on his front lawn…and I will!

After everything was packed, the floors were swept and I looked at the room and I was finally happy. I will, from now on, mail my rent to the landlord without further communication, unless he begins it. He has a job so I doubt I will hear much more from him as long as he can smell his dear old money. As far as the tenant, I will have no further dealing with him..and sadly, nor his friend. One will forever be part of the other’s sins in my memory. This guy was going to be my new CPA but who in their right mind would trust a friend of a jerk with their personal information? Not this gal.

So, if any of you out there ever decide to begin a business of your own, where you are involved in a lease and another previous tenant, be wiser that me. Don’t trust anyone. Get it in writing…because if you behave kindly, you will be run over flatter than a cd! I’m keeping the space because I know this was my test. I know most landlords are probably like Cinderella’s wicked stepmother anyway and that the worst is over. I know that once they have their money, their interest in your problems is harder to find than comfortable heels… so be ready to fend for yourself. I believe very strongly in Karma. So Adam and Alex, watch your heads…because something is coming for you…and I hope you feel it…hard.

But now it’s time for the Artists to have their day. Now is the time to build! 😉

Where’s the Party?

I’m private about politics. No one ever agrees anyway and it’s not like I’m so informed that I feel the need to influence anyone else’s mind… I normally keep my views to myself. I vote faithfully every time, though sometimes the pic-kin’s have been slim… That’s the process our Fore Father’s fought hard to give us. The least I can do is to show up and punch a little hole in a card… Although for some, even that task seems a bit daunting. Those Propositions can sure get confusing…what with “No” meaning “Yes”…and “Yes” meaning “We’ll be voting on it again sometime soon…just to make sure we really meant yes”. I figure I’m either a liberal Republican or a conservative Democrat…so that probably makes me an Indirepublicrat. I kinda like that…but I still haven’t located the Party.

I couldn’t care less if the candidates are black, green, svelte, gay, female, have only three toes on one foot, are Catholic, Atheist, Buddhist, have a tendency to play the accordion in their underwear or keep really mean pet monkeys in their backyard. If they are honest (or at least can properly hide things like the rest of us good Americans) and they have this countries best interest in the forefront, I’m good with that. Then it really only comes down to whether I like the way they pronounce “California” and “Nuclear”.

I believe in pro-choice…as a matter of fact I don’t even think the male population should be given a vote on this one. I don’t expect us women to hold a vote concerning their genitalia anytime soon so I would prefer not having any 40 year old men, who dress up as Wookies and fight with fake light sabers (waiting for the Star Wars convention to begin) voting on anything attached to or within my body. That goes for those “Cheese Head” hat wearers as well.

I believe people should mind their own lives. I have no issues with alternative lifestyles. Heck, The Best Man at my Wedding is now a woman. He (Scott), I mean she (Lane), gave me the best one liner I’ve ever had in my arsenal. Now, when I have to go to a wedding and am surrounded by people I don’t know, nor want to…I simply blurt out the truth.. Stops ’em dead in their tracks and I never have to make small talk. While I’m at it, I don’t care what people drink, eat or even smoke for that matter… it’s their lives to live, not mine…I’ve got allergies…I can’t indulge. ..but I do care if they drive their bloody old, slower than molasses, Volkswagen vans in the fast lane! Now there… I take issue.

I believe in allowing the Mother of any child victim… five minutes alone with the perpetrator…equipped with a nice hardwood bat…compliments of the State.

I hate violence of any kind. I can’t even kill a mouse. I make people at work catch them in bags and walk them outside on the “catch and release” program. But I believe in the right to own a gun. I have 5 of my Dad’s shotguns in my closet right now. I was taught to both fear and respect them and if someone ever came to hurt one of my family in my home, I know how to… and would not hesitate to use one. And, being a Democratic type person, I’d even let them draw the big red “X” spot to aim for.

I believe in the death penalty. Some people are worth re-abilitating…some just plain aren’t. There are people so cruel and unremorseful in this world that I have no problem with them being moved quickly into the next. I didn’t have my College education paid for by anyone and my life in the “working experience program” didn’t plan for me to be the benefactor of theirs. They even have a better gym, have time to use it and don’t pay the fees!

I believe in stem cell research. I believe in anything that can fix my family blood lines and allow them to live normal lives…well, as “normal” as my family can be… 😉 I want to see people that can’t walk…walk. I want to see hope in the eyes of the hopeless. I want the disadvantaged to have their dreams too. I want everyone to be able to wear funny hats and laugh out…loudly…it that’s what they want.

I don’t believe people should have citizenship given to them if they arrived here to stay illegally. Sure, there are some exceptions to that… but I have friends from El Salvador, Canada, Vietnam, Africa, Cambodia, Cuba, Europe, China, Mexico and the Philippines who all had to do it the hard way… the right way… and their years of waiting should mean something…and all those times I had to be quizzed on US History and was rewarded with a big grin because it was quite obvious they knew more than me…about my own Constitution…My embarrassment should not have been in vain.

I believe in the right to die with dignity…boots on. If you or someone you love can’t be saved, why the hell should anyone have to suffer and why should others be forced to watch. Get a pill and let each person go out singing “I did it my way”.

I believe in God. Yes, I know it’s out of vogue…but I make my own fashion style. There are those that would tell me I’m not a “proper Christian” believing things as I do. Oh well! My God doesn’t judge people the way human kind judges each other. My God is wise and loving and totally cool. He loves us all…even Howard Stearn…and Man, I’m tellin’ you…that’s love…

I won’t be allowing Jenifer Aniston, Madonna, Brad or Angelina to influence my vote or mind this election. Not even for homemade, fresh-out-of-the-oven, hot biscuits with homemade blackberry jelly.

Hey, GO VOTE!

Tombstone’s Boot Hill

One of the few precious childhood memories I have is of wearing a holster with two 6 shooters, a black suede, fringed vest sporting a most beloved sheriff badge, a pair of black cowboy boots and my head topped with a beautifully embroidered black cowboy hat. Now back then, as is still now the case, I tried never to take sides when the choice between good and evil was blurred. Even as a small child of 5… I alternated back and forth between my cowboy getup and my giant colorful Chieftain headdress with feathers that ran all the way down my back, accompanied by my war drum and bow and arrows. I do have to admit, I always wore the vest with that badge, regardless of the rest of the ensemble. Kinda Switzerland even then.

This past week we were lucky enough to go back in time (if you will) to the land of Cowboys and Indians. Crossing plains that Geronimo, Cochise and Sitting Bull rode over and visiting towns that Billy the Kid and Bat Masterson gambled in…well that’s just plain old cool stuff to someone who loves history. Along the way there were characters who take this stuff mighty serious and have tried their darn best to preserve what’s left for people like you and me to enjoy. I saw things that saddened me, some that plain angered me and things that absolutely enchanted me. I’ll do my best to share them with you…a little at a time.

Upon arriving in Tombstone, the first destination was Boot Hill. Now, if you don’t know what Boot Hill is (or was) it’s a place of rest for some of the most notorious gunslingers and even some innocents that died in childbirth, or of cholera…or even hung without cause… all in one large graveyard. Many old western grave-sites are referred to as “Boot Hill” but to me… there’s always been only one. Now I’m here to say that sadly Boot Hill was left for many years to decay, and in it’s forlorn state, some well meaning folks resurrected these old grave-sites and now everything is completely new. I asked an old Cowboy caretaker inside, with as much patience as I could muster…”Why?”. He told me with equal patience (for a City slicker) that the graves were destroyed, lost forever and had to be researched and rebuilt. He had no idea I currently have 5 of my Father’s vintage rifles in my closet and I take History quite serious. I think in the end we came to understand each other and each loved this place in our own way. He passed me a little map and we followed it on the trail to all those laid in infamy.

As we walked, I could not help being angry. Why would people let something so important to this country’s roots…disappear? Why is there so much money spent on things like researching who used steroids in Baseball (when they weren’t even illegal and who bloody cares anyway?) or analyzing trendy colors and names for the next generation of cell phones…but no one see the significance in holding on to something so precious? Why leave history keeping in the hands of folks with barely enough funds to live on, let alone try to finance the restoration of the most famous American Western Grave Site in the US? WHY? That’s a question someone in power needs to answer to to our Children, our Grandchildren and those beyond. Me, I’d just do the obvious. I’d make sure they had the cash to restore it properly.

I have no photos to share of Boot Hill. Nothing to give you an idea of where Gunslingers like Frank McLaury, Tom McLaury and Billy Claiborn were laid to rest after dying in the most famous gun battle in American Western History. I left without taking a single one. I have only some words and the memory of yellow crosses made of simple wood and piles of rocks, tenderly laid by well meaning folks… paying a simple man’s homage to the bones that lie beneath.

AS YOU-PASS-BY
REMEMBER-THAT-AS
YOU ARE

SO-ONCE-WAS -I
AND-AS-I AM-

YOU SOON-WILL-BE
REMEMBER-ME

Facing 50 Head On

Yes, that is 2 puns in one line… TDB

Self Portrait

Christmas in CAL 7

I just do…

I don’t know why I loved this building and it’s puddles. People kept looking for something else. Some reason… some answer. Why is this woman out in the street? What is she looking at?  Sometimes a photograph can only be understood by the person in control of it’s making. Maybe I see something that isn’t really there. I don’t know why… I just do.