I just want to hold her close.

This is my favorite picture from Paris. I just love sculpture. Give me an ass in marble and I'm in heaven. I love this man and infant. It warms my heart to see masculine affection and care. I was truly moved by this piece.
We have just arrived home from our trip to Pittsburgh. My first reaction is dreary. It was a dreary ride into a dreary looking Pittsburgh. On Thursday Artie flew in and she, Xan, and I drove down to Monessen to see The Douglas School and check out the Tom Savini Special Effects Make Up program there. My word of advice to all my friends with kids younger than mine is "Go see the school that your kid wants to go to"!!! Let me tell you if I was in a situation where I was dropping my dear first born off in this town to go to this school and we had never been there before I would be having nightmares.
We drive into Monessen on Thursday around 11am figuring that it will be fun to have lunch before our 1pm tour. Monessen is an old mill town. A very sad, and sorry ass mill town. We see the school right away it is on the main road and it is about 4 or 5 buildings in a row and is surrounded by vacant buildings and a bunch of nothing. No cafes. No coffee shops. No restaurants. Oh wait there are some pizza places and that's it. As we are driving out of town there is a Subway and a Rite Aid. We must of blinked. We must of been wrong. Where is everything college like? So we turned around and there drove back through the other one way street and found the grocery store. OK that's a good sign.
We decide that we will drive back to the other town that we passed that is across the river. It looks bigger and my wheat allergy makes a pizza place a hard choice. So off we go to the town of Charleroi. Charleroi is bigger but just as sad and sorry. I mean there is no Starbucks. There is no diner. There is a donut shop where we stop and ask if there is a breakfast place that serves eggs. We got the blank stare and the monotone response of, "This is a breakfast place". The blank stare got even blanker when I explained that I can not eat gluten and need some different choices than donuts. We got sent down the road to a place that was so smokey I thought I was going to gag. Get this (and this is true, cross my heart), we get seated in the smallest non-smoking I've ever seen and I head off to the bathroom. The bathroom door is wide open and there is a man washing his hands at the sink and behind him there is a young teenage boy standing at the toilet peeing. I was shocked. I stood there processing all this and then thought it best if I do them the favor of closing the door for them. I did. I waited for my turn and relieved myself of all the pent up pee of picking Artie up at the airport, driving for an hour, looking at the run down downtown of Monessen, standing in a time warp at the donut shop, and walking into a furnace of an eating establishment.
Doesn't this all sound grand? But don't despair. The Douglas School has some fine points and Artie was turned on by what she saw. The school is small, only 300 students and the majority of them are in the special effects make up program. The make up program is doing so well that this year they added The Tom Savini Digital Film Program.
Up the incredibly steep hill is the housing. A developer has bought 7 or 8 houses and they rent them out dormitory style to the kids. We drove up there and looked around.
I brought the camera and took not a single picture. I think that if I had documentation of what I saw I might just wilt away.
Artie says that the town is all the inspiration that any student needs to create fantasy and horror.
On our way out of town we went a different route and found the Starbucks. Thank God.
Artie was turned on. This is the place. This is the primo choice for her to learn the craft that she is into.
I'm sitting here with my head in my hands wondering about it all. I'm thinking of that beautiful sculpture of the man holding the infant. I remember how I used to love watching Michael hold our dear Artie. It seems so long ago at this moment sitting here typing up the hilarity of my experience in Monessen. I want to hold her close. I just want to hold her close.

Such is a cat.

I am still sick, though not as sick.
This morning Artie was reading everyone their horoscopes. Mine said something about not being ready to do something but to do it anyway with grace. Well, duh!!! We have to drive to Pittsburgh tomorrow for Michael's ceramic conference. I'm sick. I'm not ready to go but will graciously get up in the wee hours of the morning and pack myself and others into our awaiting van. I am here to tell you that I will be doing it all with grace and minimum of grumbling. You see, I've got to go because Artie is flying in on Thursday and we are driving down to The Douglas School and checking out the special effects make-up program that she wants to attend. So, I gotta go: Michael will be at the conference, Artie will be flying in and someone has to get her to the school. Poor Xan I don't think that we will be able to do all the things that we wanted in Pittsburgh. But I am sure that there will be HBO and we will do half-day adventures. I really want to go to the Andy Warhol Museum.
On another note....my cat Ethel.
Ethel has been out of sorts all week. Michael and I switched sides of the beds for the week because I have been so sick and need to get up often at night. It's amazing how a hacking cough will enliven you. Ethel jumps up on the bed and looks at me and looks at Michael and gives us a look of Why? Why? Why?. Poor Kitty she is pretty perturbed. She is a funny cat (like most) and has her places in the house that she likes you to pet her. Like on the desk beside this computer, in the bathroom sink (no joke), while she is eating (weird but true), and on my side of the bed. But Dad is there now not Mom and she's taking the change like a true cat. Not well. She won't even let me pet her on the wrong side of the bed, the one I am on now. Oh well, by the time she catches up to the change I will be back on the other side waiting for her nuzzles.
Such is a cat.

The sick...I could do without.

My house has been very quiet for the past few days.
No shouts of joy.
No loud whines of homeschool protest.
No unruly bickering between the girls.
No harsh words to the kitties to stop whatever mischievous behavior they are up to.
Oh no...we have all been as quiet as church mice. We are all sick with really crummy sore throat chest colds. We have been talking in whispers at best.
It's lovely...the quiet.
The sick...I could do without.

...liked the weather this week all that much either.

This is it. This is what the front of my house looks like. Can you see all that water? How can you blame me for not posting all week? I've been too busy wading to my van.And this really how I've been feeling all week. Dreary. Dreary. Dreary.But the sun is out now. I can feel the change of season coming on. So can the cats, they've been a little friskier all weekend. As I sit here typing away I can hear birdsong outside the window. Birdsong, sun, snow, still have patches of 4 inch thick ice on my sidewalk...what's wrong with this picture? In my head I'm humming that old kid's show song, "One of these things is not like the other. One of these things just doesn't belong..." But in my case it's two of these things...
To celebrate my brightening spirits I will tell you (what I think anyway) is a charming story.
I'll start off with pillows. Does anyone ever go through the phase of needing to change your pillows? Well, I've been going through my phase for about a year now. It seems that no matter what type of pillow I buy it doesn't seem comfortable and I'm not getting a truly good nights rest. I'm chalking it up to pre-menapause because I'm at a loss.
Yesterday Michael and I went out and did some errands. He stood there chuckling at the counter as I bought yet another pillow. This one is fake down. I have never liked the feel of a down pillow but I'm getting desperate. So we get home and after doing the household chores I want to lie down and test out my pillow. I amble into the studio where Michael is working on this really big head. He is making it as an example for a sculpting class that he teaches. He's got it on his round-about thingy and asking me how I like it from this perspective and that perspective. He wants feedback about the face's expression so I tell him that I think his work will be stronger if he commits to an expression. Really truly commits. Many times he purposefully makes his work ambiguous and I have felt for a while that he should play with really going for an emotional expression. So I told him my opinion and off I go to commune with my new pillow.
I fell asleep. Must have liked the pillow enough (which I do and did). When I wake up I meander into the studio and this is what I find.I guess he hasn't really liked the weather this week all that much either.

...a bigger sense of humor and a stronger back.

My camera shall be coming home this week. I hope the folks over at Kodak gave him a spa treatment and he feels refreshed and ready to snap away.
I've missed my camera.
Yesterday Michael and I went for a walk around our neighborhood to see how all the snow looked. We have got so much snow.
Let me describe my sidewalk to you.
We live on a corner (Oak & Elm). I live in the tree streets part of town.
We have alternate side parking and every morning we get up and move the van at 8am (except for Mondays which we sleep in). For some reason no matter what side of the street you have to park on that day all the snow plows dump the entire streets snow on the corner of Oak Street right in front of my house. Right on top of my daylillies. Every time they sprout their wee heads in May or June I am astonished to see them alive after being bombarded with tons of road salt for months on end.
Right now the snow bank on our Oak Street corner is about 6'wide and about 5'6" tall. I know the height well because it is as tall as me. I am right cranky about this. I tell you, if it snows again I will not be able to shovel onto our winter residence outside. I am not tall enough to heap it any higher. I am going to be might cranky!!!
We have a shovel wide narrow walkway between this monolith of snow and our house. Depending on the weather this narrow walkway varies between bumpy and treacherous. It's because our roof is slanted toward that side and all the snow falls off onto the sidewalk and if we are not 'johnny on the spot' and get to it right away sometimes it will freeze in place like it did two weeks ago. At the moment I feel like we are all hobbits going to and fro.
When I am re-united with my beloved camera I will take a picture and you can decide how much I am exaggerating.
I am so thankful that I am having the good sense of leaving this part of the country. I bequeath my winter snow pile to someone with a bigger sense of humor and a stronger back.

Again.

Look out my window with me.
It is snowing. Again.
Which means we have to shovel. Again.
Piles of snow will be slipping down our slate roof. Again.
Roof snow will be compacted into wet heavy heights. Again.
Sometimes beauty is spontaneous and happenstance.
Sometimes it is found in the most unusual of places.
Most of the time it's little sibling, hard work, is trailing behind with a shovel scooping up all the slush and ice that beauty forgot and has discarded like a once loved teddy bear.
Beauty is moving on to the next moment.
I am going to put on my winter boots. Again.

...not always so nice.

I do have a petty side.
Yesterday was someone's birthday.
And my wish for this person was that they find a wirey, grey hair on their chin.
With all my heart I hope that they felt old.
I truly hope that some part of their day was miserable.
I won't name this person for my petty name-calls are crass and cruel.
I just wanted you all to know that I'm not always so nice.

Yeah, that's what I need.

I kid you not...my sinuses are constipated. Really constipated.
Tomorrow we are off to our big wholesale show in Philadelphia. It will be nice to see our artist friends and to do some catching up with folk. On Tuesday we will be going to the Rodin Museum. Every year we say we are going and then we don't. This year...we are going.
It snowed last night and we woke up to freezing rain. Yuck...Xan and I had to shovel. I would have taken some pictures but our camera broke. I spent a long while on the phone with a Kodak customer service rep. who did not speak english very well. Maybe I will never get the camera back after I send it out for repairs.
I'm off to busily get ready for our early morning take-off. Better yet I am going to go and make hot chocolate.
Just like in this picture from our trip to Paris. Yeah...that's what I need.

...www.paducaharts.com.

This is a piece that I wrote for someone about my experience in Paducah...
I am Victoria Terra. My husband, Michael Terra, is a sculptural ceramicist. We have lived part time on Lopez Island in WA State and part time in Saratoga Springs, NY since 1999. We make our living by selling Michael’s ceramic art at art shows. It has been our intention to live on Lopez full time but we realize that the way we make our income is not a good way for us to ‘make it’ on our beloved island at this time. We need time to grow Michael’s ceramic business to a point where we don’t have to travel as much as we do. We don’t resonate with Saratoga Springs and the family need that brought us here has come to an end so… we are in the market to move.
An artist friend of ours from San Francisco told us about the Artist Relocation Program (ARP) in Paducah, KY. We were intrigued and looked into the city’s incentives for artists. Here is what they offer for artists wanting to move into Lowertown (their historic arts district):
• Lowertown is dual zoned for commercial and residential use. This enables residents to have gallery/studio, restaurant/ café, etc. and living space all under one roof.
• 100% financing for purchase and rehabilitation of an existing structure or the building of a brand new structure.
• Basic loan package is 7% - 30yr. fixed rate up to 300% of appraised value.
• Free lots for new construction as available.
• City will pay up to $2500 for architectural services or other professional fees.
• National marketing of Lowertown Arts District and Paducah.
In our exploration we found other ARPs in the Midwest and Northeast. It became quite clear to us that Paducah’s program is the ‘mother’ of them all. It was started in 2000 and the city is committed to marketing its Arts District.
Michael and I decided to take a trip down there to ‘kick the tires’. We felt that the location was a good fit for us. Paducah is closer to most of the urban cities of our client base than either place that we live in now.
We were in Paducah for all of 2 full days and I walked away with a smile on my face. What a wonderful group of people (and not just the artists that we met). We stayed with Bill & Patience Renzulli in a room that they rent in their house. They couldn’t have been more hospitable to us. Bill and Patience are one of the first artists to have moved into Lowertown. They hosted a dinner party for us on our second night there and invited 4 other couples that live/work in the neighborhood. We had a delightful time full of the sense of support and community. At the end of the evening as we are all saying our good-byes, we were being hugged and given encouragement to come and live with these fine folks. Every person that I met invited me to come and make my home in Paducah; from the cashier at Krogers, to the owner of the coffee shop, to the waiter at the Mexican restaurant. Everyone was incredibly nice!
We sat in Paducah Bank with Larry Rudolph (the VP that works with the artists getting loans) and Monica Bilak (the representative for the ARP) and we heard all about the plans for the city. They are going to build a marina on the Ohio River, a River Heritage Museum, a convention center, and a new hotel complex. The city is revitalizing its downtown and it is going to be the home of the Paducah School of the Arts. There is a huge performing arts center, The Carson Center. My feeling is that this town is on the verge of exponential growth.
The only downside for us is that we are now on the second/third-ish wave of growth in Lowertown. The first wave of artists have come in and done beautiful renovations to old Victorians. The price of these beauties is out of our budget but there are still some ‘diamonds in the rough’ to be had. We looked at so many properties that my head is still spinning.
After being home for a week we have decided to make the move into Lowertown. Everything and everyone just felt ‘right’. So, we are going to look no further and my husband is busily putting together a proposal to the city for a house that we are very interested in.
I must mention here that it was made abundantly clear to us by many of the artists living there and by town officials that Paducah is not the place for a working artist to come and think that they are going to set up a gallery/studio in Lowertown and hunker back and live off of selling their artwork out their front door. Don’t get me wrong, there are many galleries that are doing well there. But if an artist walks in and thinks that they can have little savings to open up shop and solely depend on that for their income they are sadly mistaken. There are a percentage of artists that have come and gone solely for that reason. Luckily for us our income is primarily based on our traveling to art shows peppered with some wholesale accounts and gallery representation. We have every intention of opening up our own gallery/studio in Lowertown for another ‘small’ income stream. Hopefully we are not walking into this project with allusions of grandeur.
Go figure, I’m moving to Kentucky. I will now have lived in every time zone in the United States.
To find out more about the Paducah Artists Relocation Program go to their website at www.paducaharts.com.

A bit nerve racking isn't it?

I feel that I should clarify for everyone that this is NOT our house....yet. First we have to let the planning department know that we are officially making a proposal for the house. Then the planning department puts an add in paper and posts a sign up in front of the house that they are open to receiving proposals on that property. All of this comes with some sort of time/date time line.
So...that means that when the time comes for our proposal to go before the "committee" that reviews it and says, "Yay or Nay.", we could be one of several wanting this property.
A bit nerve racking isn't it?

Yeah, this is my dream house.

This is it. I have decided that we are moving to Paducah. We are making a proposal to the city for this lovely piece of real estate. I will write more later.
Still have a crummy cold..it's really cramping my style!
Yeah...this is my dream house.

Bon Voyage.

I've been sick with a crummy cold.
It's a 'I think that sitting on the couch watching movies is about my speed' sick.
On Friday I didn't have it in me to homeschool Xan. Nor did Xan want to homeschool because she woke up much more snorgally than myself. (I'm pretty sure that snorgally is a made up word.) I wanted to have some sort of educational experience and not just totally blow the whole day off.
Let's see, there was 'Unsolved Mysteries' (my personal favorite for when I am sick) but Xan doesn't like to watch that. I didn't want to watch "Let's be a Super Model" at least I knew it was going to be as ridiculous as the title. Or 'Wife Swap', doesn't that sound like a winner? Then we remembered that we had 'SICKO' that we got in Netflix ages ago (yes we are behind on our Netflix viewing).
"That's the ticket!" I thought. We could watch about the American Health Care System while we are sick and it's educational.
By the way it's a great documentary.
We watched all the special features and we spent time online learning how you can immigrate to New Zealand, Australia, and Canada. Sorry that England really isn't open these days. In the special features there is a segment about Norway.
Norway has no death penalty and no life sentences in it's prison system. The longest that someone can spend in jail is 21 years. Norway has the lowest murder rate in the world. Hhhmmmm, Norway? What if we moved to Norway?
Wouldn't it be great to live in a place that is progressive, has health care for all, and either free or subsidized education? I'm thinkin' so. But could I live with myself for leaving this problem of the United States instead of trying to be part of the solution? I'm thinkin', I'm thinkin', I'm thinkin' that I'm thinkin' way too much these days.
Washington state is the most progressive place that I have lived in the US. The state health care is excellent, the homeschool rules are above and beyond the friendliest I've come across (a homeschool child can participate as much or as little in Public School as they choose), and WA state is very environmentally conscious.
So, why am I thinking about not moving back there for a while? Again I'm doing too much thinkin'.
In the past few weeks I have come across many Artist Housing and Artist Relocation Programs (not to mention that New Zealand and Australia would welcome us) and I'm going to spend some time writing about what I'm thinkin' and what I'm learning about our next adventure.
Tomorrow morning Michael and I are flying into Nashville and driving to Paducah, KY for the first of our "kick the tires" tour. Now when I write 'Paducah, KY' there is a woman who lives there that has 'google alerts' set up for 'Paducah, KY'. I got so many comments on my post about feeling scared about the Christian homeschool scene there. Frankly, I am embarrassed because for years I've had a very small blogger community and when I wrote that post I was writing to them and it turned out that I shared my feelings with a lot more people than I had intended. I'm not going to take back or apologize for what I said. Anybody who knows me knows about my Christian hang-ups. I am admittedly embarrassed though. But not enough to censure myself in the future.
If I get a chance I will write from Paducah. If not you will hear from me next weekend.
Bon Voyage.

Wouldn't it just be easier?

We stood under the florescent lights of the big box pet store.
He with his pupils so dilated from the drops the eye doctor put in them. Wearing my blue sunglasses with the groovy metal dots on the sides. Wearing my sunglasses even though the sun ha set already and it's about 10 degrees outside.
I with the all natural, no chemical anything, get rid of the fleas cat medicine in my hands.
I had to read all the ingredients to him. He couldn't see a damn thing.
"No not that one, it won't work", he says emphatically. And believe me my husband knows emphatic.
"But she had such a terrible reaction to the last flea medicine we gave her. I don't want to do that to any of us again", I answer back. And believe me the last time we gave Ethel flea medicine we might as well of sprinkled Angel Dust in her cat food. She did not have a good trip.
I read all the labels to him and he picks out one that we did not use last time and he says very convincingly (and he can be very f***ing convincing), "This is not the chemical we used last time and after it happened I went on line and did some research. This is the one to use. This all natural stuff will not kill fleas and won't work."
"Alright we will use this one."
So, here I am almost 24 hrs. after I gave her the medicine. Another bad trip for my precious baby. Michael is off in Virginia at a show. The girls and I got hardly any sleep last night. This trip is lasting way longer than the last one. I called the vet and since she's eating and drinking she feels that we should just ride it out. All day long I have been on edge and hyper sensitive.
Damn! Damn! Damn!
Sometimes I wish that no one was allowed to make any of the choices except for me.
Wouldn't it just be easier?

...a layer of dust.

I love a city with good (to me anyway) public art. I truly like Philadelphia for it's art. New York City takes care with its art in Central Park. Amsterdam is a cherished place (I love the architecture there and because this is my blog I will call that public art too). I like Lancaster, PA because I am a sucker for 'turn of the century' brick buildings. London has some very impressive sculptures and monuments. Cairo doesn't have much but it is exotic and I like it there. But, Paris has ART. Sculptures everywhere for your eyes to feast on. Oh I forgot Washington, DC. Poor Capital (or is it Capitol?) she's a grand city with some very impressive public art.
But, Paris has ART...There is art on the way to the Metro...At the end of the pavilion that houses that flower market...On the side of a building...As you stroll through the park (by the way, there was some guide book that I read that said that Paris did not have many public parks, they were wrong!)...On the way to the restaurant supply store...And yet another park that Paris supposedly does not have...
If you look up you might find this...I am an aesthetic person. I like my surrounding to please my eye. I love Lopez for that reason. I could ride around Lopez everyday of my life and never get bored with the scenery. I have a favorite hill just above the library that when you are at the top you can see Fisherman Bay and beyond into the Sound. I love that view. I think that I could walk Paris for everyday of my life and never get bored with the aesthetic details of that city.
So why doesn't my house feel like an aesthetic paradise? Why is there always a pile of stuff (junk) somewhere on a porch or in the yard? Why does the inside always look like a whirlwind of dishes and chaos.
I guess it is because I am out there wandering the streets of the world with my mind elsewhere feeling the weather all the while my vacuum accumulates nothing but a layer of dust.

Breath Victoria. Breath Victoria.

Sometimes you meet someone standing in line at the supermarket or you talk to someone on the phone in some customer service capacity and you think that it would be great to get to know them. That is how I feel about Monica who is in the planning department office in Paducah, Kentucky.
Monica is the contact person for the Artist Relocation Program there. We've talked about 4 or 5 times now and I'm wondering if she will be the only person that I can relate to there. Monica has been so gracious handling my very frank questions about religion (YES, I know it's the bible belt!), people, school, homeschooling, organic produce, and anything that pops into my head.
"We are Unitarian Universalists and I'm not finding a congregation there. Do you know if there is one?" I ask bluntly. All the while thinking this woman is going to black-ball us even before we get there.
"No there isn't. We had that problem too when we were deciding to move here." she answered so matter of factly.
Here's the deal. According to what we hear and the people that we have talked to down there is that you may not want to live in Kentucky but you want to live in Paducah.
The question is, do I want to live in Paducah?
There are other artist relocation programs. Another one that I am considering is in Cumberland, MD. They do not offer as great a financial package but they have lots of tax bennies. There is also a culinary school there. That would be great for Xan.
Last night I called the contact person for the Kentucky Home Educators Association.
"I am going to be frank and ask you if there are any homeschool groups in Paducah that are not christian based," I asked mustering up the courage because I was afraid I was really going to offend this woman.
"Oh, honey this is the bible belt dear. Of course they are all christian. I don't know of any group in Paducah that is not christian based," she sweetly answered.
Breath Victoria. Breath Victora.
She goes on to tell me that she has spoken there several times and that the group doesn't seem to be overly christian. They do not require you to sign a document of faith like some other groups. A DOCUMENT OF FAITH!!! I gasped. I never knew that groups did that. I am even starting to hyperventilate as I write this.
I am going to go and kick the tires that's all. I am not going to go prejudge the situation. I can live surrounded by christians. (Can you hear me repeating this over and over in my head?)
The homeschool thing has thrown me for a loop. And I don't even have all the information yet.
There must be at leat one other non-christian homeschooling household in Paducah, right? Maybe in my fantasy of fantasies there will be 5 non-christian homeschooling families.
Breath Victoria. Breath Victoria.

...dream house in Paducah, Kentucky?

I am having one those 4am thinks. Just like the ones I've been having all week.
We got back last night. On our way back from Paris we missed our connection in Frankfurt, Germany. Lufthansa put us up in a very militarialistic (if there is even such a word?) hotel and we wandered about Frankfurt for a few hours. We attempted to cross the river Meine on a pedestrian bridge but my fear of heights took over (and I knew it would be worse after the beer) so we stayed on whatever side of the river we were on and went to a real tourist house of beer and got schnockerd on one really big glass of beer each.
Now I'm home and sitting in the cold dark doing email stuff and catching up with life.
Mostly this morning I've been looking at real estate. Yeah, real estate.
I am exhilarated and scared to death.
On the morning of our Bon Voyage to Gay Pareeee I was on the computer booking Michael and I some flights to Paducah, Kentucky. Oh, you read that right. I am willingly trekking to Kentucky.
Back track a moment...
In 1993 I left Tucson, AZ because of a love, a dream, for Lopez Island. We couldn't afford a house there so we bought land. We packed up all our cherished items and U-hauled them out to the island and the day they arrived we unpacked them into a storage unit. They are still there. The items of my life that have such sentimental meaning. The family heirlooms, paintings from my childhood, the dining room table. I have just always referred to is as "my stuff". I use to go to storage periodically and stand there and weep with loss over not being to fit 'my stuff' in our small dome-home.
Those first years on Lopez, as wonderful and as much as I love it there, were so very hard. We were broke, on Welfare, and eventually declared bankruptcy just so we could survive. Those were dark years of waking up crying and going to bed crying. It truly is a wonder that Michael and I are still married after living with all that stress. But we prevailed. We have a small dome-home that Michael designed and built himself. We had enough stamina to pay off our land. It's now mine, and Mother Earth's of course.
But I got to thinking. And this was even before all those early morning 'thinks'. I've been thinking that I want a house. Nothing new to anyone in my family. I want a house with a dining room and a guest bedroom and room for 'my stuff'. I want to live with 'my stuff'. I want to have room for parties and host visiting artists or professors or whatever.
So I said what I had been thinking out loud over christmas.
"What if when we sell our house in Saratoga we do something like buy a property in Paducah, KY (I'll get to "Hello, why Paducah?!" in a minute) and live there in house that we can purchase outright with the money from the sale of the Saratoga house and build up Michael as an artist more before we head back to Lopez?"
I said it and to my shock everyone in the family thinks that it is a good idea.
Paducah, KY is a place that a fellow artist told us about last Fall. This town is offering artists the opportunity to buy buildings in what is called "Lowertown" and make them into artist studios, galleries, and homes. We could buy a 3000 sq. ft. brick Victorian for around $100,000. The program is called 'The Artist Relocation Program'. They offer 100% financing for the price of the building and any rehab that needs to be done. The offer $2,500 in architect fees. Paducah is 2 hours from Nashville and 2 1/2 hours from St. Louis. It's a good location for our business and travellig to art shows. It's right on the Ohio River and the it's a tourist stop for the river boats that cruise up and down. There is some big time quilt museum there. Maybe my dream house if there.
We are thinking that by moving to Paducah it will give us the time that we need to grow our ceramic business to the point that we don't have to travel to so many art shows. And that would make living on Lopez easier.
We are looking for a building that has enough room for a studio, a mother-in-law apartment for my mom, and some sort of cafe/cookie bar for Xan and I start to a business together. All in Paducah, Kentucky.
You say something out loud to the Universe and she takes it and runs. This idea has certainly snow-balled into a serious consideration.
In two weeks I am flying into Nashville with Michael and we are renting a car to drive to Paducah. We will be checking out the scene and seeing if we like it there.
Michael calls it "kicking the tires" and he is very clear that this is all my choice. He is quite clear that we ended in Saratoga because of his needs and now it is my turn to do something for my needs. I get to start the paragraph for this chapter.
Not move back to Lopez after dreaming of nothing else for 8 years?
Shit, what if I do find my dream house in Paducah, Kentucky?

I'm thinking crepes for breakfast.

It is amazing how many things you can think about between the hours of 1am and 4am. I've has lots of early morning 'thinks' this week. Oh well, so much for the homeopathic jet-lag remedy. Xan was saying yesterday when everyone asks her about her trip to Paris she will look at them sleepy eyed and say, "(Yawn) Did I see Paris?"
I agree with Annalise, Paris is a beautiful city. I have been to many cities in my lifetime. London, Edinburgh, Cairo, Madrid, Malmo, Copenhagen, Amsterdam, Los Angeles, New York, Seattle... It has struck me here that because the streets are narrow and curved I don't get the sense of being in a big place. It's not like being in New York where everything is set up like a grid and you can see all the way down Broadway or Fifth Avenue. The color of Paris is beige. All the building are built out ot beige stone. I was surprised by that. I don't know what I was expecting but I guess it wasn't beige. I was struck by how grey Madrid was when I was there. I was always struck by how 'tall' New York is when I lived there. I am struck by Paris' beigeness.
Yesterday we walked past the French Judicial building. I now know exactly what the US Supreme Court building was modelled after. The Supreme Court building is so lovely to me. I have been thinking about all of our great buildings in the US and where their influence comes from. I am walking around here thinking this and suddenly everything I see here I see imitated at home. When walking along the Seine, Xan and I comment that the building we see reminds us of this beautiful old Railroad building that is in Albany, NY. I was thinking that the Parliament (sp?) building in London is a very similiar landscape to this row of buildings that are near Notre Dame. I wonder what was built first? And both built right along the river.
For the past two days we have been over at Notre Dame. Not specifically to see the church (which we did) but to see first the flower market and then the exotic bird market. Notre Dame is a stunning piece of architecture. We walked around inside and out. Imagine being some pure shlub in the 1400's wandering around and you come upon something like Notre Dame. You live in a mud hut and here is this gargantuan monolithic structure full of sculptures and stain glass. Imagine seeing something like that for the first time and it is all built in the the name of a god. Well, The God. How many people got converted this way? I felt the same way when I went to Glastonbary Abbey in England. Oh the poor shlubs.
Today we are off the Louvre. Xan has a list of things we want to see so we will go on a 'treasure hunt'.
I'm thinking crepes for breakfast.

Au Revoir my friends...

I think that it is a pretty safe bet to assume that Annalise is not awake every morning from 3am to 5am. I awake and think "Jeeze I wonder what Annalise is doing right now? Ah, sleeping like all good people in this part of the world are. Just like I should be." Alas I am not.
I am having a wonderful time. In the future when people tell that the French are rude and not very nice I will have to disagree with them. I speak no French and even without Michael to interpret I am finding the people here to be warm and charming.
Yesterday we took a tour of Le Cordon Bleu. Very small school for the all the hype. We got to spend a few minutes watching some classes. It was very cool to hear the master chef speak in the french and the interpreter to translate in english and the students to talk amoungst themselves in a variety of languages. We found a groovy chocolate shop where Michael and I bought some chocolate raisins that had been soaked in armangac. They were so tasty! Xan got a variety of chocolates and we have been taste testing them. I (not on purpose) found Pierre Hermes, a chocolate and macaron store. Macarons are these merengue cookies that have a creamy filling. A kilo costs 74 euros (yes, that's a lot!) and we bought three of them. A chestnut, a rose petal, and an olive oil one. We sat in the buffet at the Eiffel Tower overlooking the Seine and at our very decadent Pierrre Hermes macarons. I loved them all for their exotic and unusual tastes and textures. Xan did not like any of them and Michael likes the macarons that do not having any filling better than these chick litte wonders. We were in the store and people were buying huge boxes of them. There are even truffle flavors.
Today we are off to the flower market and I am being reminded that we better motivate.
Au Revoir my friends....

Kiss, kiss until later.

SSSHHHH! Everyone is asleep.
I must say that I've tried to get a blog in for the past two days but we were too busy packing and running around taking care of all our last minute errands.
I'm in Paris.
Did you hear?
I'm in Paris.
We are in our apartment. Which I must say is the size of a postage stamp and cute as all hell. The owners met us here this morning after our night flight and handed us croissants (ooohhh they were good, but I had only 1 bite because I really can't do the gluten these days) and the keys. The wife, Sandy, is Canadian and a voice-over artist.
As I sit here on a wee stool typing, Xan is in the tiny little roll-away sleeping but a few feet away from us. My feet are cold. I'm embarrassed to say that I've turned the heat almost all the way up and it's still chilly in here. Welcome to Paris! Xan looks so sweet sleeping in Paris. I can see her auburn dyed head peeping out of the red wool blanket. By the way, I've got to find another blanket for me because I awoke from my nap with cold feet. But I can't get to the armour because Xan's tiny little roll away bed is in the way. Meaning...I can't unpack or nothin'.
I want these lay abouts to wake up so that we can go the market that Sandy told us about this morning. She says they have regional fruits and vegetable and do all sorts of samples. SAMPLES. I love samples. And I really think I'm going to love SAMPLES in Paris. Why won't they wake up?
So, here I am on day one of Xan's 'Coming of Age' trip. I will try and post everyday and write about all the tastes and sounds. Our goal is to photograph every meal that we eat. Alas I won't be able to post pictures until we get home.
Today as we took the subway to get to our apartment I noticed that the foot traffic was so fast. People were movin' man! It was like one big ant farm.
Also, we got in at 6am and it was pitch dark. We got to the apartment at 9am and the sun still hadn't come out. Very dark and grey here so far.
I am tickled by the fact that I am in the same (or pretty damn close to it) as Annalise. I always think of her eating lunch while I eat breakfast and I'm sleeping while she is eating her breakfast. Now dear Annalise we can be eating at the same time and starting our days in unison. Just thinkin' and being kinda giddy from 3 hours of sleep.
We used a homeopathic rememdy "No Jet-Lag". I think that so far it's great.
Kiss, Kiss until later.

Shall we take a ride?

I hope that all my friends had some joyous holidays.
I wish you all a warm and hunker-down winter full of hot soup and roasted root vegetables.
Food is always on my mind. You too?
Anybody who knows me (or has seen me) knows that I am a large woman. My children tell me that I have a Goddess figure. For me being over weight is sort of a triumph. I grew up with the constance influence that the only thing a woman has to offer is her looks. In high school I was thin. Believe me not before that! I was a chubby kid right up until middle school. Magically I got taller and thinner. "Wow!" I thought, "I am acceptable now. I can fit in."
What a load of crock that was.
A few years into high school and I was bulemic. When I see pictures of me in my high school year book I look puffy and unwell. My mother would tell me stories of all the laxatives that she had taken in her lifetime to loose weight. I've worshipped the porcelain queen more than any bad frat boy I know. I was bulemic from the middle of high school until I was 25. It was such a part of who I was. I was so convinced that my total worth was the figure that I carried.
Over the years that I have gone from a size 6 to a size 20 (and I have no idea how much I weigh) I have learned that people are able to like me for me not my body image. It's been a liberating experience to be liked at size 14 and still be liked at size 20.
Lately I have been feeling fat. Over Christmas I bought my first size 20. Is that my wake up call? Have I put on too much weight, I think so friends. I feel winded too easily, I think. I think that it is time to get more exercise and start cutting out some fats. So this year I want to get into shape. Not necessarily loose weight but to exercise more and slow down, cook my own meals (do that anyway), and truly appreciate what I am eating.
My coming out of winter, out of hibernation, resolution is to make my blog more personal. To truly share what I am feeling and to make intimate connections with my friends. I am a very internal creature. I share more intimacies with myself than any other human. I don't feel lonely just not connected to others. My childhood was sad and truamatic and my defense was to be with myself and share my feelings with me. It's time for me to break yet another cycle of my past.
I've spent weeks having a personal discussion with myself about who I am and what I want. It's time to share all that is going on with me with all my friends.
So be prepared, I want to talk about my marriage, my weight, my politics, and my life. I want to share this one time trip as ME with some people other than myself.
Shall we take a ride?