Good Signs

A very wonderful Father's Day story unfolded before my eyes this weekend.  If only my father's timing and eloquence IN LIFE had been so poetic! 

I painted this piece last night.  

Today, when I was driving to the store, I appealed to God for immediate assistance.  It's human and I'm not embarrassed to admit it, so much so that I will even admit that it was 'grovel' praying.  "Please God, Universe, Oneness we are all a part of! Take over! Send an angel from your Bureaucratic Division!  Another one for more sensitive issues!  Consume my thoughts with positive nectar!  Footprints in the Sand, Yes! Thank you!  Pleeeeease send someone to help me!  And Thank you, again!"  

Similar in form to several similar experiences, right when I got back into the car, the KBOQ Announcer introduced 'The Lark Ascending' by Vaughan Williams, conducted by Wordsworth.  My cousin Jim played this piece at my father's Memorial Service which was held at an intimate, historical church in San Francisco, almost exactly 10 years ago and though I don't hear it often, it always shows up in situations like this, in perfect timing, like an answer to my call.  

My father was a Classical music lover (me too(o:) and deeply enjoyed my cousin's playing.  I remember being there.  That San Francisco feeling; Like I could turn around and there might be Mark Twain, depressed in the pew right behind me.  I remember feeling the honor of the rigid but beautiful folding of the flag my father earned. I was so proud to hear the many words of love and humor that were shared.  

The stories echoed and climbed the high, Spanish walls and vibrated throughout the room, as did my cousin's violin solo.  

I closed my eyes and through the music and my mind, I saw the ceiling of the church become the sky and I saw a Lark, slowly circling among tall trees, higher and higher.  The violin sang the emotion of the Lark's ascending spirit and shared it with everyone.   Whenever I hear 'The Lark Ascending', I feel that day, I am in that church with the ceiling.  I hear the wind blowing through the trees in my mind and I lift and vibrate with the echoes of the violin, up the Spanish walls, into the sky, always trusting and knowing that the lark is my father and the sky is limitless. 

The Radio Announcer mentioned the Conductor's name, 'Wordsworth', several times, which is the same name as the Author of my favorite poem (aside from poetry by my children(o:), "The Daffodils". I have created several paintings of this poem.  It is very special to my heart and the value of it's meaning is priceless.  

I stopped and thought, "My father must be the Bureaucrat and Wordsworth must be for the more personal issues!".  FYI…this is just a fun thought, which timing can be very great for! Fun is important. I'm not pulling out the Fine Angel China and dressing up in Classical English frocks, toddling around the house, preparing tea for Wordsworth, or anything.  But that sort of sounds like fun, now that I think about it!(o:

I sat in the car until the music finished and I felt good but because mother's tend to worry about their children, I wasn't completely settled inside.  I walked in the house and looked at my painting. I now saw it as one of my sons and I think the bird is a Lark, still in the trees I see, close to him.  This was not painted intentionally.  The bird was first a boy and the boy was first a cat, both of which were corrected until they changed into this.     

Coincidences, maybe.  Perhaps even a series of them.  I personally see them as a series and as reminders of something else.  Thank you Papa and Happy Father's Day to you and all! 

"Shakespeare's Fell Hand, Defaced"

I am not fully aware and I am not fully educated but I do enjoy Shakespeare and especially appreciate his delicious poems...such tasty morsels of thought that have survived through centuries, just as he had desperately hoped for when composing, "The Spoils of Time", a favorite of mine. 
Shakespeare's fear and distraction of the future and all he could foresee threatened the muse of his divine inspiration, but luckily for you and me, the muse won the battle, allowing his 'love', his artwork, to surface in his mind and travel through time to eventually become part of the wisdom of yours and mine.
This kind of eternity is a possibility for every artist and we are ALL artists. 
From my not fully aware and not fully educated perspective, I imagine and feel that we are living the days that he foresaw in that poem and if we are wise, we will let the muse of our own 'love' win the battle against our fear and distraction of the shadowy future and what we now foresee.  We can choose what spoils we leave behind for future generations who arrive with the same curiosities and fears, whether that's the eternal brass of bullets in the earth that Shakespeare foresaw or the eternal wisdom and entertainment of our words. 
Destruction isn't inevitable, it's a choice, just like peace.
It's the same warfare of the mind that Shakespeare experienced, but it's everyone's, always.  It's the past, the present and the future.  I believe that we all have the opportunity to live forever through the spoils of the 'love', the artwork, the peace that we inspire within ourselves and leave behind.  We are each the muse, just as we are each the Prophet of our own thought and future. May the world be patient for our 'love's' inspiration to take hold and change the distraction of what we now reluctantly foresee.

On a lighter note, I bet Shakespeare won that battle of the mind every time by reciting his own, "Exhortation to Courage" out loud to himself.  It sure works for me!  Powerful, very useful stuff, no matter the battle you are facing! I highly recommend it to anyone feeling cornered-ish in any way.  Works like magic(o: 

The BBC and Me

Now, I am not particularly loyal to any news source, but...
If I never listened to the BBC News, I wouldn't feel so cultured with names like Mubarak and Bagbo floating around in my head and I probably wouldn't be talking to my dog and children with a strong, British accent sometimes, either.  I wouldn't have a general knowledge about where the most 'dead bodies' are piling up and I wouldn't feel so curious about places like the dark side of the moon, nor would I be including it on the list of possible origins of my own opinion!  
If I never listened to the BBC News, I would feel like the world is a lot bigger than it actually is and my idea of 'neighbor' probably wouldn't extend beyond the block where I live.   
I never imagined I would grow up and be interested in the news (yawn), I never really was before, always too busy gathering the latest from the trenches of the natural world around me, seemingly oblivious to the rest. 
I appreciate that the BBC attracts my forever-immature mind by delivering the news like a sometimes funny, sometimes tragic, usually interesting epic story of reality that, combined with what I already 'knowish', further enlightens my personal journey of discovery.  

Political Cab

I'm not particularly well-informed but I am still confused about world peace and who really wants it, other than the very passive, the only folks who actually practice it.    

My son and I took a ride from a very kind, but very angry International Cab Driver the other day.  He is disgusted by this country and it's failure to educate, as well as the disrespectful young Americans who are the products of such lousy education.  He hates the President, puts him in bed with Bush and blames them both for lies and failure.  He angrily mentioned that Singapore is doing the most progressive math and that every other country is far ahead of the U.S. when it comes to education.  He wasn't happy about China or India either, so he obviously came from neither of those countries! 
He stopped intermittently to shake his fist and honk his horn at passing cars not doing what they should.  It was funny, I actually burst out laughing a couple of times and though it wasn't my intention at all, I think it might have embarrassed him.  He was a wonderful character, right out of a movie!

First, I was heated and interested in the conversation.  I agreed about our schools, anyway. What a travesty!  This driver was going way over the conversational speed limit and I was right there, along for the ride...until it went past good points that made sense and crashed into downright hatred of my country, OUR country.  I was on the brink of another, "Yea, that's true!", but I felt my gut sink.  I didn't agree anymore. 
I felt what he was feeling but it became too much when I felt his war and inadvertant hatred towards me, my neighbors, as well as`others he might not know.  I detected a desire for revenge which is a cycle I adamantly disagree with, whatever the story.  We aren't countries, we are people.  This cycle of hate, this cycle of revenge is the real travesty, not prehistoric math. 

I happen to be an American.  As an individual, I practice positive ideals.  I am tolerant.  I am hopeful.  I value me conscience and I am grateful for freedom, especially as it evolves away from a sad history or war and slavery but when I think about it, if we end war and slavery everywhere in the world, anyone from anywhere can make the same claim and move forward, fully equipped for success without the need to become an overly-knowledged cruise missle on it's way to the next battle.  What is it they say about excess?   
   
 There is no ONE evil empire.  Our planet is so small that if there IS an evil empire, such a horrible cancer would have already made it around the globe by now...so please...enough with the U.S. is THIS, the U.S. is THAT.  Everywhere is this or that and if we are honest, the U.S. is where everyone has always wanted to be so it can't be THAT bad. 

To some, evil is not educating as rapidly or defensively as other countries.  To others, evil is taking advantage of that.

Knowledge is something we are not equipped with at birth but wisdom (some would argue), is.  It amazes me that regardless of any religion, God-given wisdom is tossed aside for a knowledge of war and a war of knowledge, the new arms race. 
If world peace is really the goal, then maybe we should consider that we are all born with the wisdom to achieve this but now, as we enter a new age of mind exploration, even the God-given wisdom we were born with is being manipulated and smothered by facts for the benefit of modern-day war and slavery.  If you believe in God, how can you rationalize disrespecting Him this way?
I proudly do not consider myself a contender in any race for knowledge and I respect the direction that was embedded within me, though I try to avoid rampant manipulation of my mind along the way. 

If peace and healthy prosperity are the true goals, then a useful education is always available and inevitable, no matter the age or the country you live in...But just remember this, I don't know much and I could be wrong!

Paint

Sometimes my best conversations are the ones I have with talk radio.  I listen, I learn and I get to make my points with conviction and nobody is there to point out whether or not I sound like a partially uninformed idiot.  Does wonders for my self-esteem(o:

I recently listened to a heated discussion about artifacts in a Cairo museum (I THINK it was a Cairo Museum, anyway...Uh-oh, the partially informed idiot...Exposed!).  Apparently there is what looks like a conspiracy going on.  During 'cleaning', many carved, stone figures have been stripped of their original black paint and re-displayed as white stone, you can even see the chip marks! 
I remember a strong-voiced African man taking a lead role in the discussion and as he described, many of the discoveries and accomplishments that Egypt takes credit for were, in fact, discoveries and accomplishments made by Africans who originally inhabited that region so genetically, Africans were the true great Astronomers, Architects, and Thinkers. 

Has Egypt done a serious job of pulling the wool over the world's eyes?  I felt as upset as the strong-voiced man in the discussion.  I know what it feels like to be stolen from but wow, talk about art thieves!  The story has kept my curiosity up at night, regardless of the fact that it doesn't really surprise me. 
Now, I don't really consider myself a 'Hippie' but I realize I ask some pretty 'Hippie' questions like, "Why do we do these things?  Do stones of different colors and origins argue what shape they should be carved into or what color they should be painted?  Are they offended when we strip their paint?  Do mountains fight for credit?  Why do we?".  Maybe I should start to consider myself a Hippie...nah, I like shoes, hamburgers and toiletries too much.

A few days later, I went to visit Dan. Dan is a new friend of mine and as he was showing me around his gorgeous, newly-facelifted Victorian, he pointed out the beautiful redwood that was discovered under layers of white paint that had been stripped away.  I have to say, the redwood was beautiful and after all of that time, I bet the house itself was enjoying it's new, redwood look!

It's interesting that something like paint removal can instigate such different responses in the same week.

Of course, the circumstances surrounding the two stories are obviously different, I get that, but when paint is removed (black or white), all that is happening is the unveiling of what is underneath, the essence of what it really is.  Stone.  Wood. Why do we paint figures black or white in the first place? Politics?  Credit?  Why do we feel the desire to strip the paint away?  Politics?  Credit?  It's terrible to be stolen from, but when do we stop choosing this battle and share the credits of peace together? 

Stone and wood go back a lot further than we do and if they don't fight over who cut the rivers, then we shouldn't fight over who figured out where they flow and why!  Just look at the wisdom there and consider there's not a single Galileo in the rock pile (though there might be in the forest!)!  There are countless colors in nature and none of them fight for credit.  WHY DO WE? 

When modern children, unimposed by history and hate, are given the opportunity to paint their own figurines, I imagine they paint them in every available color.  There is no better way to 'fix' history than by moving forward with this kind of freedom.

Sincerely,

A Partially Uninformed Idiot

  

Buckeye Trees as Childhood Pets

Garland Ranch, 1976-ish:

When I was little, like most people in the area, we spent an average amount of picnic days at Garland Ranch in Carmel Valley.  We lived out in the Village for a few years, so it was a nearby, wonderful place to enjoy.  Flash memories of those days are slippery stones under my bare feet in a cold but refreshing Carmel River.  There were really dirty soft dirt paths that came with lots of spiritual stories about Native Americans and mountain lions.  I think of thick, warm air that muffled all of the scents and sounds around me into my own private harmony.  I felt (and still feel) total freedom there, almost like an animal but in a people kind of way.
There was one afternoon I remember in particular because I really wanted to take some buckeye balls home that day.  It was dusk and time to leave so I filled my knee socks with buckeyes and walked to my mother with these very bumby legs, it was funny! When we got home, my mom helped me to sprout one of the balls and soon, I was the proud mother of a tiny tree that had every reason to love me! 
My Buckeye tree did quite well in it's private master pot for a very long time...even survived a couple of moves until the time when we moved to Sonoma for 6 months because my mother was married to a Hungarian man for that long and Sonoma was where we lived, 844 Oak Lane, to be specific.  Charming place.  At The Creamery, I know I held the high score on Centipede and Ms. Pacman, too and wow, we all loved those Piroshkis they served there...with sour cream, mmm, I can taste it now! 
Okay, I got off track.  In Sonoma, my tree had to be planted into the ground because it had grown so well.  When we moved back to Carmel, it was too big to dig up so I had to say good-bye to my old friend, the Buckeye tree.  It was tough, crazy as it sounds.
Over the many years, I have often wondered how my Buckeye tree was doing.  Was he strong and healthy, were his leaves not so green without me...you know, the usual curiosities.  I finally went to Sonoma about 7 years ago and walked from the main square through my old neighborhood and I found the house on Oak Lane in an instinctual way.  It had been a long time, I didn't remember the turns.

I saw a big, beautiful tree that towered over the backyard of where I lived, right in the spot where I left mine.  Because of the time of year, I couldn't really tell if the tree was a Buckeye, so  I was a bit disappointed, though left to wonder, which has a mystique of it's own.  And hope.  I chose to believe that tree was my Buckeye.  I picked a beautiful, giant, yellow rose and put it on my bag, knowing I would keep it forever in memory of that visit.  Our neighbor's backyard had an actual, regulation 'Pickle Ball' court and I seriously loved that game in the 7th Grade, so I peeked at the court for old time's sake, too(o:

Fast-Forward to now.  Well, about a month ago...When I was driving to Garland Ranch for a hopefully bonding walk with my 2 teenage sons, I was telling my Buckeye story along the way.  I had never shared it until lately and the moment was perfect timing, as we were going to Garland that day.

We had our moppy dog Sophie girl with us and the day was perfect.  Close to dusk, we decided to start hiking in the direction we had already been going in and I pointed out to my son Collin that we were on Buckeye Trail!  When I was laughing at the coincidence, I looked down and in the moist soil at my feet, there were 3 shiny Buckeye balls!  I picked them up and noticed that they had all started sprouting and one of them even had a tiny tree bursting from it's split root.
 I felt so excited because I knew what a gift I was holding in my hands.  I felt as if Garland Ranch had just given me my tree back, along with two more, for my sons.  I was just telling them the story in the car.  It was a very spiritual moment and it felt so wonderful and complete to have been able to share that gift of time with the two people I love most in this world.  There was meaning in it.
 As we hiked that day, I must have jostled the 3 Buckeye balls too much in my hands because when we stopped again, I noticed that the root of a second ball had split and it's new, tiny tree was peaking out.  Talk about the feeling of having received a gift, the moment made me well up inside with surprise and excitement.  It was totally enchanting.
I currently keep our 3 buckeye balls safe in their soil, but travel ready!   Thank you wonderful Buckeyes of Garland Ranch...next time, I'm wearing knee socks!(o: 

Help! I've Misplaced My Patriotism!

I used to be one of the most Patriotic Americans you could ever meet.  I spent countless Fourth of July's watching the Boston Pops on T.V., choked up and teary-eyed through so much of the program's spirited music, not being able to choke back some of that welling emotion during our National Anthem.  Every year I would say that NEXT Fourth, I would go see the Pops in person! 
Flip the channel and I would be proudly cry-singing my way through "I'm Proud To Be An American" with someone like Billy Rae Cyrus, it's true.  I remember practically feeling every American soldier's sacrafice under my feet when I got to the part about proudly standing up next to you. This is embarrassing to admit but this kind of fun sometimes kept me from getting out much on those holidays, but I liked it.  I felt so grateful for something I believed and it felt so good inside.  So did the guacamole!

I am uneasy about Patriotism these days.  I believe in Love, Liberty, Truth and Honor.  I believe in MLK's Dream, the Pursuit of Happiness.  I believe in Freedom and supporting each other.  What is happening?  Our country is suddenly full of competitive opportunists and kids learning how to bully in school like professional assassins by mimicking the behaviors of their competitive parents who bully at work...and win! 
We encourage our kids to take advantage of their friends by showing them how!  We praise cruelty when combined with money and wit.  Is this American?  I don't identify with what I am`seeing and though some religions have no problem with it, I know that God doesn't identify with it, either...no matter whose God you're fighting over.

Our country, our world is becoming desensitized.
  
Is childhood bullying really an issue? If our country is going this way, maybe we should be offering Socio-Bullying as a high school elective so that students who come from families that DON"T set this example can fare more competitively when entering cutthroat College and the job meat market one day.  Come to think of it, maybe we should start with Pre-Schoolers by designing new playgrounds like mini Colliseums!
Many adults who lecture about teamwork and behaving as a whole community are robbing their neighbors under the guise of professional 'shrewdness' and setting this example for their kids.  Then going off to volunteer...to 'help'?   These same folks also feel some authority to ask questions like, "What would Jesus Do?"! Ha!
 It's become more impressive and remarkable these days to witness someone being truthful than it is to witness someone telling a lie... C.Y.A., anyone?  Need a lawyer?  No worries, we've got plenty. Everyone loves and hates a lawyer, you almost have to.

But wait.  Who have we become?

As the world becomes uniform, we settle.  The more we globalize through big business, the more we Third World the First World common man instead of First Worlding the Third World common man.  It's not right and you can feel it in the air like a straight jacket.

 How do you feel Patriotism towards something like Big Business?  Do you dig for that in your soul or in your tax return?  Do we just stop feeling?  Am I just slow to desensitize?

I want the freedom that comes with life.  It's a natural desire and it's a natural right. 

Writer's Blog.

Greetings and thank you for your interest! 

My name is Michelle Pisciotta and I am an Artist and Mother.  Artists who love words are also writers.

Regardless of a sort of sordid (though undeserved) reputation of being a woman of way too many words, I have been astonishingly latent on the 'Road to Blog'.  My long history of lost and untouched perspective once left me with the understanding that Facebook was my blog, or at least blog-enough for me...but I learned that FB is more of a how's the weather, hey-go see this movie, and by the way, I worked out, ran errands, dusted and washed my dishes today, small-talk kind of place, rather than a spill your guts and make your heated point type of forum.  I could be embarrassed, but it was well worth the valuable experience, even if that experience involved  opportunistic deceit.  If FB is a social test, I don't think I passed.  Revolution, anyone?

I once was lost and mind-blocked to blog, but now I am found...here! 

  I have two wonderful, and unique teenage sons, Collin and Antonio.  Collin is a musician with a band called, SleepCycle.  He plays the guitar, sings, writes and composes for the band.  I am his mom so if you can imagine, I cry happy tears when I hear his music.  It really touches my soul.  SleepCycle is amazing, I believe a household name one day! 
Antonio is a writer, a poet like none other.  He writes abstractly and prophetically and lives the same way which is acomplicated sometimes, but we make it work!  He has a passion for his interests and a desire for success so I believe that whatever challenges he faces along his journey will only serve as greater inspiration for him.  His unique challenges certainly serve as this for me.

Inevitably, stories of these talented and inspiring people will decorate a piece meal, hand-stitched saga within this blog.  I will say just for now, that painting and parenting feel equally natural to me, sometimes smooth and easy, often rough with texture...ALWAYS original artwork.

Speaking of family, we also have a dog, 'Sophie', a lovey Lhasa Apso. Someone once said she looks like a mop which makes perfect sense because she's a wonder with crumbs on hardwood! We have a cat, 'Mr. Meowgi' (that's what I call him, anyway).  He is elegant and wise and you really feel like somebody when this cat accepts you.  He's royalty.  I always straighten up when he's around! 

We also have 7 rats.  I love them all but I'm admittedly partial to 'Brownie' and 'Sideways'.  Along with snakes, scorpions and giant, hairy spiders, I used to be oppositional to living with rats but through experience, I have discovered that these sweet creatures are strangely similar to dogs and cleaner than cats!  They seem so socially aware sometimes that I keep expecting one of them to ask for organic veggies and an in-house recycling bin!  Still on the fence when it comes to snakes, scorpions and spiders (large or small, hairy or not!)
 

Finally for now, I would like to mention that I became inspired to be a blogger today after much encouragement and after visiting an old schoolmate's blog.  Lisa is a writer who just finished a book, right on the heels of inconceivable life challenges and I was referred to her blogspot to take a look.   Her website is

LisaBarker.com and I wish her much continued success, always!

 

This has been a quick introduction...so far only to myself but if all goes well, I will one day become wealthy with many visitors to my proud, yet humble Blogspot. 

 

Love to all, thank you for visiting, check me out again! (o: