It is different. It is interesting to me.
I have not had many moments in my life alone and now I have made that happen. It is good and it is bad. I dearly miss my family and friends but I am so glad to be here, writing. When I had my last baby, Rachel, the doctor was a friend of mine and he told me he had never met a person who could be so easily interupted. It is true. I listen to people and try to help solve problems etc. To be here and not know anyone is terrific. It is in fact, time to think.
I knew I needed to leave Jamie and Steve after talking to my dear sweet supportive husband when he told me how interesting his experience was, good and bad being alone. I needed to experience that as well. We were high school sweethearts and met in the high school band. Or first date was our high school prom. He had a zit between his eyes and I had helmet hair. He played the trumpet and I was a sequinned majorette who could throw the baton in the air, turn and catch it. I also strived to be able to jump with my feet straight out into the air and touch my toes. I know that is normal now but you must consider I never had gymnastics or formal dance lessons.
I would aerobic dance for a least an hour in my living room alone at home without knowing what I was doing just because it was fun. Earlier, I hula hooped and was excellent until I entered a contest in the Farmer's Fair in Aurora Indiana and could not "keep it up" and later discovered it was because I was left handed and was trying go the direction the right handers were. Oh, deep disappointment on stage. Nostalgia.
So, back on subject, John and I were discussing that ever so grueling fact that one of us will die one day and leave the other behind. I don't think either one of us is willing to jump in the grave after the other. That is what tears are for.
To be alone, having hardly ever had that opportunity, is a wonderful mixed bag. At least it is by choice and we know that makes a difference. I will go home and if I get sucked out of the airplane before I get there well, it is what it is.
I sent out my email begging for opinions from friends about being motivated creatively and what makes art valuable and what does that mean. I got several very interesting answers and promises for more. I love it. Variation. The heart of the matter is interpreted so many ways.
I wrote so late last night, a time when I can hook on to somebody's loose wireless and I wrote until about 3 am. I may as well have because the fellow in the next room snores so loudly the wall vibrates. So much for the old boarding house. I woke up to a loud crashing metal sound in the kitchen at 6:30 am and had to write off last nights sleep. I showered and went down to a delicious eggs and bacon breakfast in the dining room of the hotel. Papaya or orange juice, toast or rice? Coffee, delicious.
I want you to know wireless is a problem here and I'm trying not to pay $10 an hour for it so I found myself sitting in Senor Billy's mexican restaurant parking lot sending the email from my rental car after breakfast. Ahh devotion.
Then I ventured off into the next little town to explore where I am. I walked through galleries of various qualities, saw and smelled fancy fruit salvation skin creams for "ladies" with promises you would not believe. Oh sweet youth in a bottle. And, felt the soft touch of bamboo clothing. It felt like velvet. They must have boiled the bamboo fibers a long time.
I saw a wood carver of great quality oiling his latest work and made my way to a fabric store even though I don't sew. That is what trading is about.
Amanda, dear sweet talented seamstress, I saw more batik died fabric in bright oranges and yellows and colors of the sea as well. I know she loves to sew and create but hates buttons and I am not sure about zippors and I saw patterns of X-3X clothing with neither. I want to buy them for you at $15 each. I wanted to give you all the fabric. The new aprons for the shop would be beautiful. The shop was old and very oriental old. The clerks were helpful as I admitted I am intimidated by thread and lack of sewing knowledge. I called you from the shop but it was too late. Maybe I'll gather my cash in hand and get daring.
Then I worked my way up to Holualoa. Again, I looked in a cool coffee shop, an elegant and delicious restaurant I would only want to share with someone and then down the road to various galleries. Hmm.
I met a mandolin maker and talked to him about creativity and inspiration. I will quote him soon as well. He talked about health and his battle with laziness and weight and high blood pressure. There was not evidence of that in his demure personality and calmness in his shop. I visited two very high quality shops, The Seven something gallery where Jamie and Steve show and is the best in their opinion and the Dovetail Gallery which I really enjoyed. There were two things I would have like to buy there. A tea bowl and a gorgous square 9 stoned necklace. $20 for the tea bowl I don't need and about $140 for the necklace, a beautiful original design. Do I deserve it? I have enough stuff. The shops owner had some incredible woodwork and the rocking chairs were to die for, almost.
I found my way down from the down toward the ocean and finally found the health food store and Safeway where I chose my dinner. Bear with me. I am trying to eat cheap for the week and the Safeway reminds me of a good Wholefoods market. Olive bar! Cannot resist the blue cheese stuffed olives. I make it past the fried crap and see baby swiss cheese and homemade mozzerella wrapped around prochuto, pass it up anyway although I held it for a few minutes. The scones, no. The fritters, no. The various cheesecakes strawberry and pistachio included, no. Carrot cake, no. Hmm. Roasted turkey salad from the deli to go with my homemade 9 grain bread in the room, score. Brie, tiny slice and organic blueberries and an Fetzer cab wine, score. I already had red pepper and cucumber in my room. Score. And I love chocolate, yes MILK chocolate.
I love soft creamy milky chocolate that truly melts slowly in your mouth. Amanda told me it was ok to prefer milk chocolate.
I don't think chocolate should snap in your mouth. Well, I have to talk about food cause "don't got no love, right now."
Jamie told me about the ali ali drive which is the road next to the ocean. So I headed down the hillside a little further and found it. Oh My Gosh! That is where all the money and the tourists are. I have been here over 3 weeks and forgot about rental condos and prime real estate. All those shorts! All those craggy old surfer dudes. Oh, they have not aged well. Hard Rock Cafe and all that goes with it. I must admit all those rich people are having fun spending money there. I just cannot believe it took over 3 weeks for me to find them. Where are my priorities?
Jamie and I were at Volacano Village Art Center and we may have looked a bit campy from a long night on a hard double bed in the cabin But! This dumb snotty lady asked if she could help us while we were touring the lovely shop. She made my skin curl? Or is that hair curl? And Skin crawl I guess. Love to fragment those sayings! She was ever so fashionable, and so "dressed." Still she was aging although she worked hard to fight it. She was made up, about an hours worth of staring and painting in the mirror, fashion co-ordinated until she could hardly move her arms and whammo- put on a really stupid flat gray hat. Ok, I admit I am an anti- snob but the glance she cast a Jamie who she did not recognize and had made pots for sale right by her arm at the cash register made me want to slap her. Oooh. Those words coming from a declared pacifist. What is the deal? I had a friend from Puerto Rico in Austin Tx who was a fantastic artist and he always declared the people who could buy his art would not have him to their house for dinner. Rats ass.
An art center named Donkey Mill Art Center was next on the list. Is is a non-profit like we could use in Tulsa at an old coffee co-op building that was formed when coffee hit an all time low and South American coffee started being important. The coffee farmers were already barely making a living and this building was there headquarters to help survive fianancially. I believe they delivered their goods by donkey.
Isn't there some sort of jack ass place we can set up in Tulsa when we are kicked out of our block. How about John Getty's hideout or some crappy oil spot. Oh well. That must be sour grapes on my part. The energy involved to create these things is tremendous and I feel a bit worn out now. I'll get up my steam before I get home and see what I can help make happen.
I will enclose some pictures from their place. It just began in 1994 and is well organizied. I would really like to see some warehouse action in Tulsa, for and about artists.
Back to the subject, I drove down ali ali and felt proud with my horrible map skills to have found it. Should not be too hard, the ocean is down hill, you know, at sea level! I wound my way up the hill to a scenic overlook to see the sunset. Uh-oh. Only person there without significant other. Time too take pictures for others with their cameras. You know, the thing nice people do for others to kill time at a romantic sunset. Miss you John Boy. In my quest for knowledge I read the tourist signs and soon realized why there was undeveloped land in front of me next to all the high rent districts. We were standing on historical lava tubes where ancient Hawaiians either hid in these mile long tunnels under the ground in war times or buried their dead in peaceful times. The sun went behind the clouds, anti climatic but I was getting board anyway and I snapped a few photos and headed to the health food store at the mall.
I found some good stuff. Kava Kava. Jamie and I want to make Kava bowl sets and sell them. The stuff is legal and is a great stress reducer. It works. I tried it at Jamie's house. It takes the edge off stress. So, I purchased some drops and big expensive bag of the powder to make the tea like drink. Yes friends, we are having a Kava party when I come home and you can purchase my bowls to help pay for it. Kava Bar anyone? It is similar to alcohol without the side effects. Sounds good to me. It is the "Drink of Peace" and creates a feeling of quiet contentment. I know there is a Kava bar in town and I found out where it is at the health food store and I am heading there tomorrow. I would like to pour about a gallon of this stuff on several of my best friends who need to take a chill pill. This is it. We will drink up when I get home.
So tomorrow I will experiment with it and see how I feel. You do not mix it with alcohol. That does not even sound like a good idea to me. I hope to learn more about it tomorrow. The first few drinks do numb your lips and then you just relax.
Then I drove to my little Thomas Wolfe boarding house room and made my gourmet dinner.
9 grain bread with turkey salad, red bell pepper and cucumbers and crackers, red wine and for dessert Brie and organic blueberries. I don't even have room for milk chocolate. Yes, I am a very rich woman (without the flat hat and skin cream). My life is good.
John and I talked about how strange life would be without each other and eventually it will happen. It makes me sad but we all know we are in fact individuals and without that inner peace we cannot love or give anything valuable to anyone else. And, when you do give it there is always the threat of losing it one way or another. Change. It is all about change and adapting.