It's really crazy how things are happening lately....My last paycheck lost in the mail, with an ensuing 8 day wait., and today, when the new one was due to arrive...nothing....My check for the column..supposed to be here today...forgotten, and with my work schedule i won't be able to get it until after Labor Day....
My relationship with money has been worse then that with my ex's...and THAT speaks volumes! It's not that I don't work....I am out of the house 65 hours a week, not counting what I put in to research and write the column...So, what gives???
I am going to choose to take it as a choice...I can either become bitter and withdrawn, or be thankful for the many gifts I have...like the fingers I have to type this with. Lessons, that's all...Hopefully I will be up to the challenge of meeting dark with light...
My bike...I dearly loved it., for the heartfelt love the gift represented, for the ride back to my 7 year old self with a similar pink bike, for the funky silliness of my 50 year old self pedaling down the road.
Just another choice of reacting to dark with light.
I am not always up to the challenge. But I never give up trying. Later.
Monday, August 29, 2005
Bayside 25
The lure of the beach was the final deciding factor in my move here from the Midwest, almost one year ago. Not just any beach, though, it was the thought of the wild ponies of Assateague Island that sealed the deal for me. Every little girl goes through a "Misty" stage, where she dreams of living on an island befriending wild ponies, and I was no exception. When I made a quick reconnaissance visit prior to the move, having the ponies try to nuzzle me in the parking lot of Assateague cemented my childhood fantasy.
Yet, the pristine 37 mile stretch of beach almost wasn't . In the late 1950's, plans were made to line the shore with businesses and condo's, ala
Ocean City. As I write this, Hurricane Katrina is threatening New Orleans, and the disaster scenario due to massive flooding is catastrophic. Mother Nature intervened on Assateague in 1962, also, with a storm whose surge plunged much of the island underwater. It put the kabosh on funding for the project, and in 1965, Assateague was declared a National Seashore.
I usually visit the State Park part of the island, rather than the National. It's just easier to walk past the camp store and concession stand, and setup a chair. Once there, if you face the ocean and make a left, you can walk all the way to the Ocean City inlet if you are so inclined. I have never done it, but I have walked far enough so that the brightly colored umbrellas and swimmers fade away, and all you can see is wild, wide sand and sea. ( And a few very natural sunbathers.)
Assateague offers quite a bit more, though. I am determined to camp there, even though dire warnings of summer mosquitoes, biting fly's, and ticks have quelled my desire to do so in the summer months. I'm waiting for late fall, when the biting bugs go home with the tourists. I plan on combining my trip with a canoe rental, and making the three walking tours offered, Life of the Dune, Life of the Forest, and Life of the Marsh. (thank goodness they each come with a descriptive brochure.) I can smell the burgers on the grill and see the stars above my campfire as I speak.
This year I want to be more than the tourist that just takes pleasure at the beach and goes home, though. The Maryland eighth annual Coast Day is being celebrated Sept. 17th, with a huge party after the early morning clean up at the National part of the park. Unfortunately, I can't quit my day job, so I will miss the festivities that Saturday, but they include live animal exhibits, yummy shore foods, arts and crafts, and music. (I plan on being part of the clean-up crew on Monday.) Volunteers are needed Friday, Sept. 16th, Saturday, Sept. 17th, and Monday, Sept. 19th. For information or to volunteer call Dave Wilson at 410-213-2297.
Last, but not least....Remember my hot pink Della Cruiser bike I got for my 50th birthday last month? If you spot one abandoned in the area, please send me an email... Yup, you guessed it...someone snatched it. Oh well, walking is good for my soul, anyway... See you next week!
The lure of the beach was the final deciding factor in my move here from the Midwest, almost one year ago. Not just any beach, though, it was the thought of the wild ponies of Assateague Island that sealed the deal for me. Every little girl goes through a "Misty" stage, where she dreams of living on an island befriending wild ponies, and I was no exception. When I made a quick reconnaissance visit prior to the move, having the ponies try to nuzzle me in the parking lot of Assateague cemented my childhood fantasy.
Yet, the pristine 37 mile stretch of beach almost wasn't . In the late 1950's, plans were made to line the shore with businesses and condo's, ala
Ocean City. As I write this, Hurricane Katrina is threatening New Orleans, and the disaster scenario due to massive flooding is catastrophic. Mother Nature intervened on Assateague in 1962, also, with a storm whose surge plunged much of the island underwater. It put the kabosh on funding for the project, and in 1965, Assateague was declared a National Seashore.
I usually visit the State Park part of the island, rather than the National. It's just easier to walk past the camp store and concession stand, and setup a chair. Once there, if you face the ocean and make a left, you can walk all the way to the Ocean City inlet if you are so inclined. I have never done it, but I have walked far enough so that the brightly colored umbrellas and swimmers fade away, and all you can see is wild, wide sand and sea. ( And a few very natural sunbathers.)
Assateague offers quite a bit more, though. I am determined to camp there, even though dire warnings of summer mosquitoes, biting fly's, and ticks have quelled my desire to do so in the summer months. I'm waiting for late fall, when the biting bugs go home with the tourists. I plan on combining my trip with a canoe rental, and making the three walking tours offered, Life of the Dune, Life of the Forest, and Life of the Marsh. (thank goodness they each come with a descriptive brochure.) I can smell the burgers on the grill and see the stars above my campfire as I speak.
This year I want to be more than the tourist that just takes pleasure at the beach and goes home, though. The Maryland eighth annual Coast Day is being celebrated Sept. 17th, with a huge party after the early morning clean up at the National part of the park. Unfortunately, I can't quit my day job, so I will miss the festivities that Saturday, but they include live animal exhibits, yummy shore foods, arts and crafts, and music. (I plan on being part of the clean-up crew on Monday.) Volunteers are needed Friday, Sept. 16th, Saturday, Sept. 17th, and Monday, Sept. 19th. For information or to volunteer call Dave Wilson at 410-213-2297.
Last, but not least....Remember my hot pink Della Cruiser bike I got for my 50th birthday last month? If you spot one abandoned in the area, please send me an email... Yup, you guessed it...someone snatched it. Oh well, walking is good for my soul, anyway... See you next week!
Wednesday, August 24, 2005
Bayside 24
Art, like writing, is purely subjective. Critics and experts can critique brushstroke and grammar, but, to me, the true litmus test is how art touches the heart.
Patrick Henry's art touches mine. Attending The Waterline Gallery's reception last Friday night, entitled "Transitions", I realized I was not alone. Fellow artists Bill and Deborah Rolig sent a bouquet of vibrant sunflowers, and Patrick was engulfed by well-wishers. Gallery owners Karen and David Prengaman provided finger foods, and the crowd sipped wine as they viewed the paintings spanning 20 years of his body of work.
Patrick's eyes hold a light that intrigues me, and when he graciously offered to speak with me the following day, I couldn't wait. We sat in his backyard gazebo, with a pitcher of ice water and a backdrop of homegrown, red tomatoes as a backdrop.
"God is where you take your energy." Patrick calmly stated. With that statement, I knew the source of the light in his eyes. I put down my eager little pen and just listened.
You see, Patrick Henry the artist was almost Patrick Henry the teacher, but he chose to follow his heart instead of his head. Spending the summer in Richmond, Va., Patrick was readying himself for graduate work towards his teaching professorship. A call for help from his mom changed his mind, and he returned to Berlin, instead. Often heart choices are painful and confusing, and only time's perspective clarifies intuitive wisdom.
It was in Berlin that he became reacquainted with the love of his life, Velda, his wife of 16 years. One of the pictures in the exhibit is of the sea, with three birds skipping across the sand. He gave it to Velda early in their marriage for Christmas, when that's all he could afford. It still hangs in their den today. He pursued his art, though not without resistance from family and friends. Patrick shook his head slowly, and said, "They told me to just give it up, and quit pipe-dreaming." He continued, " I became a success in spite of it all. He continued painting, interspersed with art in it's more commercial form. He was noted as the graphic artist in the 80's renovation of The Atlantic Hotel, and made hand-painted t-shirts and signs. As his works became celebrated, he branched out and opened The Henry Art Center, in Berlin. Life was to take another unexpected turn, with the deaths of 4 family members in two years. Increased family pressures, his growing popularity outside the boundaries of Delmarva, coupled with the daily operation of the center , caused his artistic focus to blur.
He decided to let go of The Henry Art Center, and concentrate his focus on his painting and his family. He paints now with inspirational tapes and posters as his companion, in his studio behind his house.
This morning before I started writing, I went back to The Waterline Gallery to get another feel for his work. I walked the length of the exhibit, and found myself captured by three paintings created since closing his art center this past July. The brushstrokes are deeper, the colors richly multifaceted. They have the depth of a mature man, sharing his vision with the world.
I idly flipped through the gallery guest book from Saturday night’s reception. In it I found a passage from Patrick and Velda's daughter, Stephanie. "My Dad is the best painter in the Universe. I wish he will never change!" That's my idea of true success. See you next week!
Art, like writing, is purely subjective. Critics and experts can critique brushstroke and grammar, but, to me, the true litmus test is how art touches the heart.
Patrick Henry's art touches mine. Attending The Waterline Gallery's reception last Friday night, entitled "Transitions", I realized I was not alone. Fellow artists Bill and Deborah Rolig sent a bouquet of vibrant sunflowers, and Patrick was engulfed by well-wishers. Gallery owners Karen and David Prengaman provided finger foods, and the crowd sipped wine as they viewed the paintings spanning 20 years of his body of work.
Patrick's eyes hold a light that intrigues me, and when he graciously offered to speak with me the following day, I couldn't wait. We sat in his backyard gazebo, with a pitcher of ice water and a backdrop of homegrown, red tomatoes as a backdrop.
"God is where you take your energy." Patrick calmly stated. With that statement, I knew the source of the light in his eyes. I put down my eager little pen and just listened.
You see, Patrick Henry the artist was almost Patrick Henry the teacher, but he chose to follow his heart instead of his head. Spending the summer in Richmond, Va., Patrick was readying himself for graduate work towards his teaching professorship. A call for help from his mom changed his mind, and he returned to Berlin, instead. Often heart choices are painful and confusing, and only time's perspective clarifies intuitive wisdom.
It was in Berlin that he became reacquainted with the love of his life, Velda, his wife of 16 years. One of the pictures in the exhibit is of the sea, with three birds skipping across the sand. He gave it to Velda early in their marriage for Christmas, when that's all he could afford. It still hangs in their den today. He pursued his art, though not without resistance from family and friends. Patrick shook his head slowly, and said, "They told me to just give it up, and quit pipe-dreaming." He continued, " I became a success in spite of it all. He continued painting, interspersed with art in it's more commercial form. He was noted as the graphic artist in the 80's renovation of The Atlantic Hotel, and made hand-painted t-shirts and signs. As his works became celebrated, he branched out and opened The Henry Art Center, in Berlin. Life was to take another unexpected turn, with the deaths of 4 family members in two years. Increased family pressures, his growing popularity outside the boundaries of Delmarva, coupled with the daily operation of the center , caused his artistic focus to blur.
He decided to let go of The Henry Art Center, and concentrate his focus on his painting and his family. He paints now with inspirational tapes and posters as his companion, in his studio behind his house.
This morning before I started writing, I went back to The Waterline Gallery to get another feel for his work. I walked the length of the exhibit, and found myself captured by three paintings created since closing his art center this past July. The brushstrokes are deeper, the colors richly multifaceted. They have the depth of a mature man, sharing his vision with the world.
I idly flipped through the gallery guest book from Saturday night’s reception. In it I found a passage from Patrick and Velda's daughter, Stephanie. "My Dad is the best painter in the Universe. I wish he will never change!" That's my idea of true success. See you next week!
Sunday, August 14, 2005
Sunday August 15?
Where on earth did the poem i just published come from? Obviously, I need to sit on top of a mountain in a cold stream and cool off for awhile. I guess the buttermilk fried chicken, the potato salad with chives and eggs, the coleslaw, Okeechobee style with orange juice and pineapple, and the salsa, hot, red, meaty, with homegrown tomatoes is a metaphor for repressed passion in my life. Bon Appetit, it could be worse.....Celibacy, properly channeled, feeds people well. later.
Where on earth did the poem i just published come from? Obviously, I need to sit on top of a mountain in a cold stream and cool off for awhile. I guess the buttermilk fried chicken, the potato salad with chives and eggs, the coleslaw, Okeechobee style with orange juice and pineapple, and the salsa, hot, red, meaty, with homegrown tomatoes is a metaphor for repressed passion in my life. Bon Appetit, it could be worse.....Celibacy, properly channeled, feeds people well. later.
Wednesday, August 10, 2005
here it is~~22...not stellar, but it worked...no time to go explore and cover something fun...
Social Column 22
The first time my former mother-in-law came to visit, I scurried about cleaning like mad. My husband walked in the door from work and looked around at the mess in astonishment..."What in God's name happened here?". "Deep Cleaning, you're Mother's coming, it's a female thing." I frantically replied. I wondered if the town of Berlin would go through something similar to prepare for Governor Robert L. Ehrlich, Jr.'s visit on August 19th, to honor Berlin's designation as an arts and entertainment district. I moseyed downtown to ask local shopkeepers what they were doing special for his visit.
First stop, tiny Patricia's Bakery. Many a Sunday morning I have stopped in for her moist apple bread. " The Governor's coming?," She exclaimed in her lilting Italian accent. " I will just make sure I have more of everything." It only took me 30 steps from the entrance to reach the cash register, but the place makes up in taste for what it lacks in size. (Try her giant éclairs, and Rosemary Bread...both are to die for.)
Next stop, my friends Peggy and Les Katona at The Main Street Gift Gallery. " He wouldn't be treated any different then we treat our other customer's." Peggy said, thoughtfully. " However, we will have artists on hand, demo-ing various visual and performing arts." I believe her, too, because there is a warm coziness that engulfs me every time I walk in. The Katona's have come up with some really creative plans to encourage the arts in Berlin, but I'm not telling til they are ready to go public. (The second I get the word, you will be the first to know!).
I have been meaning to go the Lavender & Old Lace antique store since it opened two months ago. Owners Janice and Dennis Johannsen moved to Berlin 8 years ago, and say simply, "We love Berlin." Procurers and collectors of "Moon and Stars" glassware, and many fine Victorian antiques, the couple encourage customer's to browse, or even sit for a chat in one of the store's comfy Victorian chairs. A special hello to my friend Frances Blank, owner of Berlin's first antique store. At 91, she often stops by to visit with Janice and Dennis on her walks downtown.
I asked The Treasure Chest what they were doing for the Governor's visit. I am no different from any other woman...I love beautiful jewelry, and The Treasure Chest has a gorgeous selection of precious gems in distinctive settings. The Treasure Chest has been a family run business for 28 years, and current owner Terri Sexton said " It will just be business as usual- our town has so much to offer, we are proud of it just as it is."
I was puzzled as I walked over to The Atlantic Hotel, where the governor is purported to speak. Where was the frantic "spiffing up?" The marching band, or at least a fiddle or two?? THEY didn't have anything firmly in place for his visit, either.
Sorry, Governor Ehrlich. What you see is what you will get....along with the dose of good old-fashioned warmth and courtesy that is extended to everybody. See you next week!
Social Column 22
The first time my former mother-in-law came to visit, I scurried about cleaning like mad. My husband walked in the door from work and looked around at the mess in astonishment..."What in God's name happened here?". "Deep Cleaning, you're Mother's coming, it's a female thing." I frantically replied. I wondered if the town of Berlin would go through something similar to prepare for Governor Robert L. Ehrlich, Jr.'s visit on August 19th, to honor Berlin's designation as an arts and entertainment district. I moseyed downtown to ask local shopkeepers what they were doing special for his visit.
First stop, tiny Patricia's Bakery. Many a Sunday morning I have stopped in for her moist apple bread. " The Governor's coming?," She exclaimed in her lilting Italian accent. " I will just make sure I have more of everything." It only took me 30 steps from the entrance to reach the cash register, but the place makes up in taste for what it lacks in size. (Try her giant éclairs, and Rosemary Bread...both are to die for.)
Next stop, my friends Peggy and Les Katona at The Main Street Gift Gallery. " He wouldn't be treated any different then we treat our other customer's." Peggy said, thoughtfully. " However, we will have artists on hand, demo-ing various visual and performing arts." I believe her, too, because there is a warm coziness that engulfs me every time I walk in. The Katona's have come up with some really creative plans to encourage the arts in Berlin, but I'm not telling til they are ready to go public. (The second I get the word, you will be the first to know!).
I have been meaning to go the Lavender & Old Lace antique store since it opened two months ago. Owners Janice and Dennis Johannsen moved to Berlin 8 years ago, and say simply, "We love Berlin." Procurers and collectors of "Moon and Stars" glassware, and many fine Victorian antiques, the couple encourage customer's to browse, or even sit for a chat in one of the store's comfy Victorian chairs. A special hello to my friend Frances Blank, owner of Berlin's first antique store. At 91, she often stops by to visit with Janice and Dennis on her walks downtown.
I asked The Treasure Chest what they were doing for the Governor's visit. I am no different from any other woman...I love beautiful jewelry, and The Treasure Chest has a gorgeous selection of precious gems in distinctive settings. The Treasure Chest has been a family run business for 28 years, and current owner Terri Sexton said " It will just be business as usual- our town has so much to offer, we are proud of it just as it is."
I was puzzled as I walked over to The Atlantic Hotel, where the governor is purported to speak. Where was the frantic "spiffing up?" The marching band, or at least a fiddle or two?? THEY didn't have anything firmly in place for his visit, either.
Sorry, Governor Ehrlich. What you see is what you will get....along with the dose of good old-fashioned warmth and courtesy that is extended to everybody. See you next week!
Monday, August 01, 2005
this one i love~it made me feel passion as i wrote, made me pull my hair and pace, and that is all good.
Social Column 21
The brown brick building is plain, unassuming, and I almost missed it , but for the fountains surging around it. Wakeup, Delmarva. Up off our beach chairs and out of our jeans and t-shirts, because swank sophistication has arrived in our midst. What and where is this all about? It's The Fountains, in Salisbury, a wedding/event facility that opened on July 16th.
I talk to everybody, and find every human being I met a source of fascination. Thankfully, strangers and friends talk back, and that is how I met Ray Strawley, general manager for The Fountains. He invited me to tour the facility during the gala "Silver Swing", a celebration of Coastal Hospice at the Lake's 25th anniversary.
Greeted courteously by Charles Pryor at the door in his proper Penguin attire, I suddenly wished I wore my pearls and slicked back my hair, instead of flying through the door in my everyday black pants and corkscrew curls.
Holy Cow! The sheer luxury hit me like a ton of caviar flung from a silver spoon. No less than 12 chandeliers hung from the 21 foot ceilings in the main ballroom. Sage walls complemented the soft, scrolled carpet under my feet, and my eye was immediately caught by the exquisite Ice Sculptures that highlighted the buffet, crafted by Ray himself. Women floated by in long gowns, sparkling with jewels and scented with expensive perfumes. (Jean Nate, it was not.) Press people with slightly bored expressions and huge cameras talked to guests and snapped pictures, and I heard the words "Metropolitan Magazine" and "WCBS" floating around.
I wandered into the silent auction, and found myself mesmerized by a flowing chocolate fountain that even Willie Wonka would have coveted. A confirmed, unrepentant chocoholic, I confess it was I who seduced guests Clary Jackson and Helen Walsh into dipping the provided sticks into the fountain for a quick chocolate fix. Heaven!
If I ever, ever get married again, the reception will be here. Not because of the gourmet food, the impeccable service, the sophisticated ,subtle beauty of the place... It's the brides room that has me hooked. ..a little girl' s dream of cotton candy ruffles and pink chintz, done up Big Girl fashionin sultry champagne silk and bows. With no less than 8 vanity stations, it's the quintessence of all that's female and secretly ceremonial. Not to leave the guys out, the groom's room almost made me want to be a man. Deep, rich brown leather couches, a wide screen TV, and a full service bar, I could smell the sports and Havana’s as I entered the room.
They even have a mini-T.V. station, with the ability to broadcast your event on the internet, as well as record it for posterity.
Downstairs again, I met Sallie Klunk, wife of the piano player for Doc Scantlin and his Imperial Palms Orchestra, the featured entertainment for the night. If Doc Scantlin is here in Delmarva, you better get out your sequins and polish those spectator shoes. His mix of swing, comedy and big band is a hot-ticket pass into cosmopolitan A-list functions.
It might have been alot of glitz and glamour, but the spectacular setting was nothing next to the work The Coastal Hospice of the Lakes provides. My Dad died at age 44, after a long term illness, at the peak of his professional and personal life. I only wish that there was an organization then that could have eased his passing, and held the hand of his wife and children as he did. That is what this non-profit organization does, and expensive perfume and fun aside, they provide an invaluable service not only to those leaving this earth, but for the loved ones left mourning. They may be contacted at:(410) 742-8732, by the patient himself, or an involved friend, relative or clergyman.
I have the rest of the day off, and I am going crabbing. To me, the sea, the cornfields, and the hint of salt in the air, are the greatest luxury of all. See you next week!
Social Column 21
The brown brick building is plain, unassuming, and I almost missed it , but for the fountains surging around it. Wakeup, Delmarva. Up off our beach chairs and out of our jeans and t-shirts, because swank sophistication has arrived in our midst. What and where is this all about? It's The Fountains, in Salisbury, a wedding/event facility that opened on July 16th.
I talk to everybody, and find every human being I met a source of fascination. Thankfully, strangers and friends talk back, and that is how I met Ray Strawley, general manager for The Fountains. He invited me to tour the facility during the gala "Silver Swing", a celebration of Coastal Hospice at the Lake's 25th anniversary.
Greeted courteously by Charles Pryor at the door in his proper Penguin attire, I suddenly wished I wore my pearls and slicked back my hair, instead of flying through the door in my everyday black pants and corkscrew curls.
Holy Cow! The sheer luxury hit me like a ton of caviar flung from a silver spoon. No less than 12 chandeliers hung from the 21 foot ceilings in the main ballroom. Sage walls complemented the soft, scrolled carpet under my feet, and my eye was immediately caught by the exquisite Ice Sculptures that highlighted the buffet, crafted by Ray himself. Women floated by in long gowns, sparkling with jewels and scented with expensive perfumes. (Jean Nate, it was not.) Press people with slightly bored expressions and huge cameras talked to guests and snapped pictures, and I heard the words "Metropolitan Magazine" and "WCBS" floating around.
I wandered into the silent auction, and found myself mesmerized by a flowing chocolate fountain that even Willie Wonka would have coveted. A confirmed, unrepentant chocoholic, I confess it was I who seduced guests Clary Jackson and Helen Walsh into dipping the provided sticks into the fountain for a quick chocolate fix. Heaven!
If I ever, ever get married again, the reception will be here. Not because of the gourmet food, the impeccable service, the sophisticated ,subtle beauty of the place... It's the brides room that has me hooked. ..a little girl' s dream of cotton candy ruffles and pink chintz, done up Big Girl fashionin sultry champagne silk and bows. With no less than 8 vanity stations, it's the quintessence of all that's female and secretly ceremonial. Not to leave the guys out, the groom's room almost made me want to be a man. Deep, rich brown leather couches, a wide screen TV, and a full service bar, I could smell the sports and Havana’s as I entered the room.
They even have a mini-T.V. station, with the ability to broadcast your event on the internet, as well as record it for posterity.
Downstairs again, I met Sallie Klunk, wife of the piano player for Doc Scantlin and his Imperial Palms Orchestra, the featured entertainment for the night. If Doc Scantlin is here in Delmarva, you better get out your sequins and polish those spectator shoes. His mix of swing, comedy and big band is a hot-ticket pass into cosmopolitan A-list functions.
It might have been alot of glitz and glamour, but the spectacular setting was nothing next to the work The Coastal Hospice of the Lakes provides. My Dad died at age 44, after a long term illness, at the peak of his professional and personal life. I only wish that there was an organization then that could have eased his passing, and held the hand of his wife and children as he did. That is what this non-profit organization does, and expensive perfume and fun aside, they provide an invaluable service not only to those leaving this earth, but for the loved ones left mourning. They may be contacted at:(410) 742-8732, by the patient himself, or an involved friend, relative or clergyman.
I have the rest of the day off, and I am going crabbing. To me, the sea, the cornfields, and the hint of salt in the air, are the greatest luxury of all. See you next week!
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