Calvary Color Shots

From fields where glory does not stay and

Early though the laurel grows

It withers quicker than the rose...

And round that early laurelled head

Will flock to gaze the strengthless dead

And find unwirthered on it's curls

The garland ...AE Housman

The Grave is but a covered bridge,

Leading from Light to Light

Through a brief DarknessI can not see what flowers are at my feet,

Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs,

But, in embalmed darkness guess each sweet scent Art is long and Time is fleeting,

And our hearts though stout and brave,

Still like muffled drums are beating

Funeral marches to the grave

New Necklace

Here is a shot of the new necklace I just finished for Spirit Jump

Below is just a little about the charm I chose. The meaning behind the charm are things I believe people in a difficult situation need

The charm is of Durga the Hindu god. Goddess Durga is the mother of the universe and believed to be the power behind the work of creation, preservation, and destruction of the world. Since time immemorial she has been worshipped as the supreme power of the Supreme Being. Another meaning of "Durga" is "Durgatinashini," which literally translates into "the one who eliminates sufferings." Thus, Hindus believe that goddess Durga protects her devotees from the Evils of the world and at the same time removes their miseries

Durga stands on a lion in a fearless pose of "Abhay Mudra", signifying assurance of freedom from fear.
Durga holds several weapons in her many hands.
-The conch shell in Durga's hand symbolizes the 'Pranava' or the mystic word 'Om', which indicates her holding on to God in the form of sound.
-The bow and arrows represent energy. By holding both the bow and arrows in one hand "Mother Durga" is indicating her control over both aspects of energy - potential and kinetic.
-The thunderbolt signifies firmness. The devotee of Durga must be firm like thunderbolt in one's convictions. Like the thunderbolt that can break anything against which it strikes, without being affected itself, the devotee needs to attack a challenge without losing his confidence.
-The lotus in Durga's hand is not in fully bloomed, It symbolizing certainty of success but not finality. The lotus stands for the continuous evolution of the spiritual quality of devotees amidst the worldly mud of lust and greed.
-The "Sudarshan-Chakra" or beautiful discus, which spins around the index finger of the Goddess, while not touching it. She uses this unfailing weapon to destroy evil and produce an environment conducive to the growth of righteousness.
-The sword that Durga holds in one of her hands symbolizes knowledge, which has the sharpness of a sword. Knowledge which is free from all doubts
-Durga's trident or "trishul" is a symbol of her as the remover of all the three types of miseries - physical, mental and spiritual.

My New Painting

Che Guevara
My painting of Che Guevara. I know he is a very controversial figure, some people think he is a hero, others consider him a monster. What I admire about him was the courage of his conviction. He followed his heart, even in the face of adversity. His is the story of an obscure Argentine doctor who abandoned his profession and his native land to pursue the emancipation of the poor of the earth. He said "I came into close contact with poverty, hunger and disease; with the inability to treat a child because of lack of money; with the stupefaction provoked by the continual hunger and punishment, to the point that a father can accept the loss of a son as an unimportant accident, as occurs often in the downtrodden classes of our American homeland. And I began to realize at that time that there were things that were almost as important to me as becoming a famous or making a significant contribution to medical science: I wanted to help those people"

In 1956, along with a handful of others, he had crossed the Caribbean in the mad mission of invading Cuba and overthrowing the dictator Fulgencio Batista. He is quoted as saying "The feeling of revolt will grow stronger every day among the peoples subjected to various degrees of exploitation, and they will take up arms to gain by force the rights which reason alone has not won them"
Guevara displayed such outrageous bravery and skill that he was named comandante, the insurgents entered Havana and launched what was to become the first and only victorious socialist revolution in the Americas. His famous last words were rumored to be "I know you are here to kill me. Shoot, coward, you are only going to kill a man. " Che felt "I don't care if I fall as long as someone else picks up my gun and keeps on shooting.” I hope you enjoy my "Rag Doll" painting of Che

“Let me say, at the risk of seeming ridiculous, that the true revolutionary is guided by great feelings of love.”


One of Che's famous Quotes hidden in the smoke of my painting "Hasta La Victoria" meaning "Until Victory"

I am not a liberator. Liberators do not exist. The people liberate themselves.

"If you tremble indignation at every injustice then you are a comrade of mine"

Do You Remember Woodsy Owl?

GIVE A HOOT, DON'T POLLUTE!

No matter how bad I feel, this comic always makes me laugh. I have it hung up at work so it can cheer me up when I need it.

Truman Capote

American Author;

Literary Rock Star

Diva

Truman Capote, what more could be said about him than the above lines? I find him to be a genius of the written words, mostly for his simplicity. I've always thought him to be incredibly courageous for daring to be who he was. He once said of himself "I'm about as tall as a shotgun and just as noisy". He was braving for being openly gay and not conforming in a time when society wasn't as accepting as it is now. (Though I do not believe that society has evolved much from old prejudices and ways of thinking as we would like to believe; though that is a topic for another time. My personal favorite quote was

"I don't care what anyone says about me as long as it's not true".

A brief history for Truman is that he grew up lonely as a kid, befriended Harper Lee at a young age and went on to write what he called "non fiction novel" In Cold Blood and in doing so was often credited with pioneering the "true crime" genres.

Answered Prayers is the novel he never finished and the parts that were published cost him many friends who were unhappy with Truman's protrayl of them under thinly veiled characters. Truman was again lonely. I found this passage in Answered Prayers to be particularly poignant:

"I didn't say good bye to anybody, just left; I'm the type, and a type by no means rare, who might be your closest friend, a buddy you talked to everyday, yet if one day you neglected to to make contact, if you failed to telephone me, then that would be it, we'd never speak again, for I would never telephone you."

Ah Truman you are right when you say that the above mentioned type is not rare at all. People like that wander in and out of people's lives sometimes breaking hearts and souls with your silence. Still, though I've never met you, I miss your genius

" A conversation is a dialogue, not a monologue. That's why there are so few good conversations: due to scarcity, two intelligent talkers seldom meet"

Pic I took of Truman resting place

Spirit Jump

Here are some necklaces I did for some brave gals in need of a Spirit Jump

Teresa's Blue Dolphin and Shells and Ribbon Spirit Jump Necklace

Melissa' s Purple and Shell Angel and Flower Necklace

Darlene's Purple "May There Always Be an Angel By Your Side" Necklace

Crystal's Pink Hope, Faith and Butterfly Necklace

Emily's Pink Dream Necklace

My Painting of My Pals Old Band

THE BAND

WHATCHA ALL THINK?

I think Andre Jordan wrote this about me

Since I am such a big fan of cemeteries, this called out to me, I changed a few things, you will notice as you read to fit moi :)

Grave Girl (or Woman)
I found her sitting on a gravestone.
She was talking to herself and cutting up handwritten letters with the biggest pair of scissors I had ever seen.
‘Hello’, I said.
‘Hello’, she smiled, nimbly snipping away.
‘Whom are you talking to?’
‘Everyone’ she smiled, waving her arms around the cemetery.
I smiled. ‘And why are you destroying those letters?’
‘I am not destroying them,’ she insisted, ‘I am just cutting all of the words out. I love words’
‘But why are you cutting all of the words out?’ I asked.
‘Because they are in the wrong order. And some of them,’ she theatrically sighed, ‘have been incorrectly spelt. What is your favourite word?’
‘I don’t know,’ I said, wishing I could think of something magnificent. ‘I quite like oxymoron’.
‘Oh that’s a great word’ she laughed, ‘Isobella Monkton’s favourite word is cantankerous’.
‘Who is Isobella Monkton?’ I asked.
‘Isobella is over there,’ smiled the girl, gesturing towards a broken-nosed marble statue covered in ivy. ‘She sadly died in 1842’.
Whilst the girl was clearly loopy, I found her manner quite delightful, and so, not wishing to offend, I half-waved in Isobella’s direction and continued our conversation.
‘What is your favourite word?’
The girl carefully placed her giant scissors by her side and paused for a moment.
‘Oh I have so many favourites. It’s really hard to say, and it all depends upon my mood. Currently my favourite word is melancholy’.
‘Melancholy,’ I sighed. ‘I’ve been melancholy all my life. In fact I was going to say melancholy but I thought you might be frightened by such a word and so I said oxymoron.
‘Why would I be frightened of the word melancholy?’ asked the girl, clearly perplexed.
‘Well,’ I tried to explain, ‘whenever you say words like that, people are a bit shocked. They don’t know what to do with themselves. The moment they hear such words they form an opinion of you – normally a misguided opinion of you. It’s like telling someone you once had the depressions, (Take note here that your dear blogger Wendie does in fact suffer from depression) or your favourite pop group is The Smiths. (Note, that I, Wendie, do NOT like the Smiths, let's substitute The Cure here)
The moment you say it, you can see their faces change. Fear consumes them and they either want to stop talking to you - pretend that you’re no longer there - or they want to run away’
‘I love The Smiths,’ cried the girl, laughing for the first time. (let's substitute The Cure here again)
‘Me too,’ I gushed. ‘What’s your favourite Smith’s song?’ (Cure Song)
And then it happened. The most wonderful thing in the whole wide world happened. In a cemetery. The girl began to sing.
"I found myself alone upon the raging sea, that stole the only girl I loved and drowned her deep inside of me"
Oh it was wondrous. Truly wondrous. I wanted her to go on forever. I wanted her to never stop. But the girl said she had other things to do and she needed to be alone for a while because ‘cutting out words and putting them back in the right order takes a lot of concentration’.
I said I understood. I would bother her no more.
But I was devastated. Truly devastated.
Would I ever see her again? Did she feel the ‘stuff in the air’?
I didn’t even know her name? There was so much I should have said.
So many things I wished I’d asked and now it was too late.
I had missed my one and only chance.
I closed the cemetery gate, lit a cheap-cigarette and slowly made my way back home.

Oh Andre, did you find me one day at one of my many favorite haunts? Did you see me taking pictures and rubbing or kissing the gravestones that I found particularly sweet, touching or beautiful? Do you see me sit quietly, sometimes talking to my newly found, yet long deceased friends? Do you like watching me put flowers down on the graves of those I don't know, just so I can feel that connection? Am I like a Cemetery Fairy finding peace and love and tranquility where others find sorrow? Were you there when Bukowski and I shared a small bottle of red wine I brought with me for just that occasion; me sipping it and pouring him a bit into his grave? Are you there when I leave notes for my beloved Bela Lugosi? Do you see me photographing myself on top of his grave? Did I look happy?

The Hallways of the Always

In The Hallways of the AlwaysThere Are Things Known And Things Unknown
And In Between

Are The DOORS