Saturday, December 15, 2012


I hide in my haven.
I hide from Syria and my worry about her.
I hide from worrying about my Mom and family surviving in Damascus.
I hide from a mad man killing innocent children in Connecticut.
I hide from another slashing children in China.
I hide from the mad world hoping it will not find me.
I hide, yet not. there is no place to hide.
The best I can do is pray, work, create beauty to counter the ugliness and meditate to counter the noise.
Living here provides that, and I am grateful for our decision to move to this community.

 So here are some results of my fighting back:

* From a picture gleaned from a photo on the internet with poetic license.

" Looking at the sun"
 * My grand children are the joy of my life. So of course my first portrait is of my first grandson. From a picture taken by his mom on the last day at the pool, in September.

"Into the future"  

 * And another gleaned from a photo on the internet that went to a friend.

"Bridge over calm water"

Thursday, October 04, 2012

Fall in the air

Ahh Autumn. I love this season, a bit later here than it was in WV, but lovely nonetheless, with its marvelous colors; and a nip in the night air that is conducive to sleeping, under cover, with the windows open.

Fall is always tinged with a hint of sadness as the days grow shorter and the layers of clothing grow thicker, just like my life in its waning years. But this year, it is especially sad, with a lot of anger about what is happening in Syria. Oh Syria my heart is ripping with you, yet I sit here helpless in my heaven, that feels so wrong exactly because it is so right.

In other news my painting is getting better, crowned for now with this Shark for my grandson's room per his mom's request.

Now they all want one of my paintings.

Stay tuned while I finish and post them. 

Tuesday, September 18, 2012

Life goes on.

I have to start this post by an apology. I had been neglectful in keeping you posted. but life interferes and this retirement thing turned out to be busier than expected.
3 times a week I walk to the Lake House at 6 in the morning to do my yoga. I also am improving my creative side taking acrylic and water color classes.  Still doing my pottery, turning more sculptural with an almost daunting learning curve, beading I enjoy immensely.

And of course Syria is on my mind, in my heart and on the news. every day more Syrians die ruthlessly, needlessly.

But even in Syria life goes on with people working, shopping, getting married and having babies. 

Sunday, April 15, 2012


My friend "Betsy Stryker" painted this beautiful painting:

I saw it on the wall in the art room and was so moved to write a little description:

"She sat there on her wall, reclining restfully, sensuously, Serenely in red. People think serenity is blue, but she proves them wrong , by half lying there listening to her own muses and music, playing slowly with her beads, surrendering to her inner being, basking in the scent of her orchid.
That flaming, Flamingo listening woman, is quietly in total oblivion to all but her music, her thoughts and her serenity ."

Being me I could not stop there, so I got permission and made "Serenity" in my favorite medium, clay, with mason stains and a clear glaze:

And of course I have to tell the world about it:)

Saturday, March 17, 2012

Damascus. Dimashq

A view from the house I grew up in.
Oh Damascus;

My heart is aching and breaking. Although I left you a long time ago, you never left me. You are in my heart, how could you not be? for into your arms I was born one hot summer day.

You were the place that I took my first steps in and got my education. In you I first met my loving parents and wonderful family.

In you I was first introduced to democracy, working the polls for my mother the candidate; but democracy lasted for a year or two only, then came the heavy hand of El Baath.

For almost 50 years you survived by being your accommodating self, surviving wars, rebellions and mostly the harshness, corruption and ruthlessness of those that would suck the juice out of you pretending they are doing you a favor.

What fifty years? You survived eons by being you from the Romans to the Pharaohs, and even before to Timor lank that raped you and almost killed you, to the Crusaders, the Egyptian Mamelukes, the Ottomans, the French and what seems like a hundred and one Coup d’etat after independence all trying to rule you until the iron fist did just that for those last fifty years.

Oh Damascus with your Jasmine, citrus and roses, that fill your beautiful mild nights with heavenly smells. The dim lit streets that I walked with the love of my life inhaling your perfumes, your love and your culture.

Oh Damascus I did leave you, but forever are you in my heart, in the jasmine and citrus living beside me, in the memories inside me, and in my love standing beside me worrying about you just as much as I do.

Oh Damascus this night will end, and Dawn will come with the competing calls to prayers from  Minarets and bells from Steeples. May you always be your diverse, loving, historical self.

Wednesday, March 07, 2012

North Carolina Potters Conference

I was there when it happened, last weekend, my head is still being attacked with all I saw and tried to absorb.


 It was the 25th celebration so the idea was to invite 3 well established potters.

Jack Troy, Cynthia Bringle, and John Glick.

Who were asked to recommend a potter each that they think will be in their position in 25 years. So they respectively recommended.

Jake Johnson


Ronan Peterson


Martha Grover

 And what a conference resulted. Young and well established, Experienced and fresh, and just blow your mind wonderful.

For more pictures of Demos and works and some of Dwight Holland's magical house of pottery click on:

N C Potters Conference 2012

Thursday, January 12, 2012

Carving, I mean Knitting

I wanted a fun small holder for my things when I don't leave the compound and just go to the Lake House (Community Center).
So out came the needles and yarn with a resulting owel.
                                      My purse owl
I liked it so I wore it everywhere.

Of course, when my grand children saw it they wanted creatures of their own.
 An owl for the 8 years old, as a basket for his bike

A flower for the 7 year old girl

 A ducky for the 5 year old

 A dragon Back pack for the 3 year old

 And a purple owl for a friend.

You notice I named them because I was afraid you will not recognize the creature unless I told you what it is:)
And now that I am on a roll, I wonder what I will do next, but until then there is writing to be done and pottery to be made and beads to be strung and food to be cooked.
This retirement thing is turning out to be a lot busier than I expected.