It's that time of year again to dream up another Day of the Dead piece for Studio Maureen and the Next Door Gallery Fall Show.  This is last years poor skeleton which has lost it's blood and is confounded by it.  I think the mood is suppose to be a bit more festive - a celebration of traveling souls.  13 days left before my deadline and for the life of me I cannot think.  My most recent death experience was my fathers.  Perhaps if I make a suggestion before sleeping he'll come and reveal the puuuuurfect image.  "Show Them This"  So check in for tomorrows response or just come to the gallery and see the show.

info@studiomaureen.com 

MANDELBROT SET

I'm still trying to figure out what it all means but it showed up in a field back a few years.  This is one of the fabulous attributes of computers as this represents a series of mathematical equations in fractal geometry.  A demonstration for understanding the cosmos and the microcosmos - they are one in the same.

The crop circles season is over and the thrill of waking up to altered consciousness personified.  The rest of the year will be spent breaking down their essence and understanding their perfect geometry.  Some of the dialog is very esoteric but there are so many links to fascinating concepts not to mention interesting people.  Apparently it's not just the shapes but their specific placements, sequences,  and directional pointings that line up to dramatic effects.  There are those who shudder at the obvious hoaxes - bastardized imitations - and wish for a clear playing field so that who ever and what ever the messages can be more easily deciphered.  We are experiencing larger that life supernatural events - introductions into our psyche that our world is not just what is known.  The vail of the other worldly is opening up and what that will do to alter existence is intriguing to ponder.

One of one hundred and twenty five landscapes painted for a huge housing development in San Jose CA.  Just when I thought I was in the midst of my brilliant career the economy dives.  It's not enough to have talent in this business.  One needs a good marketing campaign and promoter.  At least now I have a personal trainer (a gift from my brilliant friend KK) and one area of my life will have guidance.  I feel like Tom Hanks on his desolate island.  It's going to take some rowing to get out there and hopefully I drift into the shipping lanes. 

And this is my mother as always enjoying her grandbabies.   At ted.com you can listen to Jill Bolte Taylor talk about her stroke experience.  If language is destroyed in your brain you instantly enter nirvana.  For eight years Mom sat in a hospital bed and I was so saddened to leave her - having so many people in her life and she alone.  BUT apparently she had the essence of God in her every breath.  Words became a distraction - at least JBT has come back from the silence to share that with us.  

She rests under a big beautiful pine with an evening breeze that  comes all the way from the coast.  And near a cowboy who I'm certain she's made an acquaintance.  Anybody that knows me knows I too have fondness for cowboys.

Here I am making a tree shrine for Bob Mitchell  just hours after I heard of his death.   I copied photos of every person I had ever met at his pool side desert resort of Jacumba.  Slid the images into baggies and tied them to the tree with green ribbons.  Like the Tree of Life this one is symbolic - blowing in the constant wind - all of us waving goodbye.  Bob had the gift of gathering in the tribes, people from all over.  Some on motorbikes, some in planes.  Some from LA, some from Arizona.  Some as far away as Washington and England.  If an event was going down it was not to be missed.   Blissful days in bathing suits, tequila poured liberally.  And always the voice of Bob in the background yarning out his stories.  I swear that man must have been 480 for all the things he had done.  

Martin was just saying today that the town is just a dirt bowl without Bob.  And Baze too!  There's a shrine for him out there too.  Two larger than life men who left an obvious void in their wake.  I for one don't like it when the fun runs out.  My Dad always said just to be grateful for those wonderful experiences and on top of that Paul of France says we can't live in the past because that will deny us a beautiful future.  I'm hoping the best is yet to come for every dang one of us.

In a whirl of chaos.

Finding Center

Karla & Jill after a beautiful noshing/drinking episode, in the heat of the day, on the shady side of the street, at the 33rd parallel, on the third planet from our sun.

Princess Penelope in her pounded pearls at the Cafe Chloe splendid  luncheon of last Sunday.

Wiped out the Rose as usual - having to keep up appearances. 

Except of coarse 9.11

9.9.9 *  A Time Like No Other