Recently on a trip to Oklahoma I was in the town of Broken Arrow. It has a revitalized downtown and I thought it the perfect place to take my camera to capture some shots on Main Street. As soon as I opened my car door I heard blues music playing in front of a shop. Since I am a huge blues fan that was an immediate draw, but was delighted to discover the store was not only a business but an art gallery.
Upon opening the door I was greeted by the shop owner, Alisa Inglett, who was gracious enough to talk to me about her business and her passion for art. Alisa does custom framing and faux finishes. She also has a selection of vintage furniture for sale. Looking around the shop I could see samples of her craft and she is a very talented artist. For her it doesn't stop there. She has provided space in her shop for other artists to display their work.
Throughout the store is the work of local artists who for some is their first public showing of their work. Each piece is for sale and Alisa charges a modest fifteen percent on the sale of their artwork. Her heart is all about encouraging artists and art forms in her community.
Alisa doesn't just provide a gallery but also does art shows. In one of her shows, Faces, living statues became part of her samples of faux finishes.
With a mixture of vintage furniture and current art you can get a feel of how it would look in your home.
Alisa has an upcoming show on July 5, 2012 at her shop in Broken Arrow. It is titled Artists of the Futureand will showcase young artists under the age of 26 years old.
I thoroughly enjoyed my time spent talking to Alisa. It is encouraging to see someone who wants art to remain live and well in their community. May each of use do our part to support art. Just look around and see what your life would be like if it disappeared.
I was excited to open my blog and find a new friend and follower Janice had given me an award! Whenever someone leaves me a comment that is such a sweet award but to receive a Sisterhood of the World blogger's award is a special treat. Sisters are speaking out and I am glad to be part of their world.
I am new to Janice's blog, but I am finding she has a wonderful sense of humor and the guts to speak her mind. I am looking forward to seeing what Janice will be speaking about in the coming days.
I want to truly thank Janice for the award and here is where you can find her ~ Janice's Footsteps
Ok, I am supposed to list seven random facts. For me that will be easy because my brain runs on random.
1. I am an amateur photographer. I love beauty but I will throw in some shots of whatever weirdness catches my eye. Recently I posted pictures of roses and a truck with a label stating, Haulin' Liquid Chicken.
2. I am a poet and I am working on my first poetry book titled Dirt Road Dreams.
3. I love to dance and it doesn't matter if anyone else is dancing or not. If my feet want to move, I let them!
4. I didn't learn to swim until I was fifty. Since then I have snorkeled in Cozumel and the barrier reef in Belize.
5. Cher is a distant cousin on my father's side, but she never calls. I just love ancestry.com. You can find you are related to almost anyone. :)
6. I write love letters and leave them in random locations wherever I travel. Here's a link that will tell you about the project.More Love Letters
7. I have two daughters who play instruments and sing. The oldest, Dawn, plays the viola, violin, and guitar. The youngest, Carrie, plays the cello. The only thing I can play is my iPod.
Whew! Hope that is enough randomness about me. Now it is my turn to nominate some ladies. So let me introduce them to you.
My Silly LifeThis is my oldest daughter's blog. She has been walking through some drastic changes in in life over the past year and a half and shares her wisdom on her journey. She also shares snippets of her singing so go on over when you get a chance and take a listen.
Stardreaming With Sherry Blue Sky I have grown to have a special appreciation for Sherry. She is a wonderful poet, mentor and inspiration. We have worked together on a couple of writing projects and her input was invaluable.
I am a night owl. It wasn't always that way. I used to get up early and start my day with a walk before the sun was up. When I began my writing journey the end of 2009 that changed. I found I am my most creative at night. It is my usual pattern to stay up until 3:00 a.m. writing.
Last night was an early night for me. I went to bed around 1:00 a.m. and was asleep shortly after getting in bed. I rarely dream. At least I don't remember dreaming, but last night or I should say early this morning was an exception. I don't remember the details of the first part of the dream, but the ending really scared me.
In my dream I was in my bedroom. For some reason there was a woman I didn't recognize spending the night. We heard the doorbell ring and it frightened both of us. She looked at the clock and told me it was 4:00 a.m. There was no reason for anyone to be at my door at that hour. She told me to stay put and she went to check to see who it was. That is when I woke up. The dream seemed so real. I sat up to look at the clock and it was 4:00 a.m.
I was breathing hard and I kept trying to calm myself down. It wasn't real. In my dream she had walked through the door leading to the bathroom not the door that would have taken her to the front of the house. Then there was the strangest thing. I could smell women's cologne in a fragrance I was unfamiliar with. That freaked me out even more, but I kept telling myself it was just a dream. I thought about getting up and going to the front door. My fear just had me stay put. I could have called my husband who was at work to calm me down, but again for whatever reason I didn't do it.
I wish I knew what it meant. I was plagued with nightmares as a child and anything that brings up those memories is so unsettling. I just hope when I seek my bed tonight there aren't any bad dreams hiding in the sheets. Darn! I don't need to speak that into the universe! Let me change that to...my dreams will be sweet!
Yesterday I typed in my name and found a sight that had shocked me, although it shouldn't have surprised me. It is called Spokeo. It's slogan is "Not Your Grandma's Phone Book." At least that is truth in advertising.
I typed in my name and it opened its electronic pages to all things me. For a price you could unlock my age, where I live, (including a photograph), how many people live in the house, the home's value, how much income I have, my phone number, e-mail addresses, every social network I am involved in along with postings and comments, photographs, videos (along with the ability to unlock them), my political affiliation...Well, I think you get the picture.
No one is safe in this electronic age from the rape of privacy. It doesn't matter if you don't have an online presence, information about your life will be for sale to anyone who wishes to buy it. The barcode hovers over you now from birth to death.
I think this eye opener has slapped me with the reality I no longer have to confess my sins because big brother is glad to act as my confession booth. At least it re-enforces within me to be a person of value and character because I am sitting on an electronic parking lot where anyone can kick the tires and buy me for the right price.
There seems to be days that want to teach me, but I am too stubborn to sit in the classroom. I want to write my own ending to something before I have even walked through the lesson. I have spent the week cleaning out my closets and pantries. I thought I had learned the lesson of clutter before, but like a pop quiz I forgot the answers as soon as I wrote them. I opened all those doors and saw a mess of unneeded staring me in the face just like it had a few months before.
I took real steps this time to eliminate things. I held each thing in my hand and thought about the last time I even used it, wore it, thought about it. With a quick band-aid pull I either put it in the pile for Good-will or threw it in the trash. I now open all those doors of areas I have completed and breathe a sigh of relief. I have made huge strides in ridding myself of clutter.
I even tackled the metal mess of my file cabinet. Again I used the same strategy and thought about how long something had been there and if I had even looked at it in over a year. Really, do you need instruction booklets for things you no longer own or prescription receipts for three years a go? It is so organized and neat now it is a bit intimidating. It makes me question just how long messy me will keep it that way.
Any way I have two rooms to finish and then I will breathe a sigh of relief, well a temporary one. When it is cooler there will be the attic to tackle, but I am determined to say goodbye to whatever is up there. I have lived in my present home for nine years now and I can't even remember what is stored up there. It is definitely a case of out of sight out of mind. If I have lived this long without it, I doubt my life will be in jeopardy if I toss it.
I have been a student of less junk in my life this week. I have rid myself of physical items so perhaps it will be the next lesson to tackle emotional junk. Something tells me that may take more work...sigh....always learning.
I watched this video and was immediately transformed into a child. I lost my mother seven years ago and with her passing I could not stop the little girl in my heart from crying for her mama. It didn’t matter
I was an adult woman with grown children of my own. When I stood by her bed and watched her take her final breath all I could do was weep and say mama.
About a week after my mother died I was home and had just completed my morning walk. When I entered the cul de sac across from my house it was filled with the scent of flowers. It was November and though it was warm in Texas where I lived nothing was blooming. It felt like I was inhaling a thousand bouquets. I turned a complete circle and knew a natural reason was impossible. Without a doubt I know it was a gift from my mother. She loved flowers, but with her allergies she could never have them in the house. It was her way of telling me she saw my broken heart and was sending me comfort. She now remembered me because her memory had been stolen in life by Alzheimer’s.