LEARNING to READ the ENERGY

Posted on by May 5, 2023

There was one point where I felt funny, and I looked over to see his face flash this weird face-video of emotions. I couldn’t read it, it went so fast. But I felt alarmed….

FELIX, always looking for better ways…

Right after George W. Bush the very junior got elected, I left the USA. Bush’s idiocy during and after the event of 911 made it very clear to me that he was Not My President. You might disagree with my views, but that’s neither here nor there — the end result of his getting into office was that I left what I considered to be the not-good-anymore-good ole USA.

I’d ‘met’ a guy online who lived in New Zealand. A fellow stone sculptor, artist, and … a labyrinth maker. We had plenty of those long, drawn-out, I’m-in-love phone conversations. I decided to leave New Mexico, go down to NZ and find out if we were a fit.

Continue reading →

VIOLATED. AGAIN.

Posted on by April 27, 2023

I was astonished — I didn’t remember ‘screaming bloody murder’! I said so, and he laughed and said, “Yep, you sure was, and boy was it loud, yeah man!” Huh.

SAM. Likes shiny things.

The second time I was raped was a far cry from the first. Looking back, I count what happened to me that day as a stroke of incredible good fortune for myself, and a completely out-of-the-blue show of the amazing solidarity of a community in its endeavor to maintain peace, and its deep-seated intolerance for violence and cruelty.

I was 17. My first year at Parsons School of Design. My father had loudly lamented sending me there, telling me, “You’ll probably just get married and spend your life making babies and washing dishes, and give up making art anyway, so why should I go to the trouble of paying for this expensive school?”

If he meant that as a joke, it didn’t ride. Our family’s forté was the say-the-reverse-of-what-you-really-mean thing, so I never really learned how to tell if someone was speaking the truth or not. I still struggle with that.

As an example, instead of telling me I looked nice in a new dress, he’d say, “Too bad your ears stick out — kind of detracts from how nice that dress should look.” Gee thanks for the kind, supportive words, Dad. Not. Continue reading →

ELIGHTABETH, So Serioth

Posted on by April 27, 2023

Granny made it very clear that she was disowning me because she thought I was a ‘sex maniac.’ Those were her exact words, conveyed with a contorted look of appropriate horror by my father.

When I was a little kid, my dad’s mother would come stay with us. Granny. The one whose middle name, Treat, I carry.

I couldn’t stand her. She smelled like Eau d’Oldde Peoplle. And she made this weird little sucking-in warbley whistle sound whenever there was something she disapproved of, but wouldn’t speak about.

This image is how she appeared to me then. Looking back now, from the perspective of someone who is the same age she was then, I think I might understand more.

She wouldn’t speak up about things she didn’t like because my dad would shut her down. Never in front of us — always in another room. I heard him one time — it wasn’t pretty. So she communicated by sucky-whistle, or one of those high, wobbly hoity-toity voices as she asked us to do something we didn’t want to do. Her voice sounded like she was in one of those old-timey movies. Continue reading →

HOW MY DOG FOUND ME AN UNEXPECTED FRIEND

Posted on by April 27, 2023

…his voice was deep, gravelly. For some odd reason, I felt like I could totally trust him, so I told him I was just back in town, 54, no place to live, sleeping in my car, yadda yadda. Him nodding, listening, focused, kind.

OLIVER: Sees You

September of 1999 was stifling hot. I had just returned to Santa Fe after a summer stint back east, house-sitting for my dear friend, Cynthia, out on Long Island. I hadn’t been able to find a place I could afford yet.

I did find a little secluded glade I could park/camp in, down by an arroyo hemmed in by cottonwoods and brambly brush, on the edge of town. It was just big enough to park my little Kia and have room to turn around in.

Fortunately, I found work doing ad design at the main local newspaper, so at least my dog, Io (pronounced EE-oh), and I weren’t starving.

One evening as the sky wheeled through its usual brilliant show of cerulean blues, purples, and fuchsias, Io and I came out of our little hidey-hole to go for an evening walk. It was earlier than usual, so I was cautious about anyone seeing where we came out of the weeds. Camping out in your car as a lone female was not safe in that area, so I practiced safe space. Continue reading →

BEING TRUSTED BY SMALL CRITTERS

Posted on by April 24, 2023

BUDDY: in the Light, Shadowed

When I drew this, I was focusing on the white part so much that it wasn’t until later that I saw the funny blue face.

I particularly like this one because it’s so silly (Silly really ought to be my middle name), and so obvious … but not. I bet if I hadn’t said anything, you wouldn’t have focused on just the blue part, and you wouldn’t have seen the silly face.

It’s a great metaphor for our lives — we go forward with stuff, and a lot of tangential events and other things happen, and it isn’t until later that we realize/see it. Continue reading →

HOW BURT BECAME MY VERY BEST FRIEND

Posted on by April 24, 2023

Burt is the kind of friend everyone should have. He holds little babies as if they were the gods’ own precious lights; plays with the toddlers; treats little girls and boys to merry-go-rounds, lots of colorfully illustrated books, pencils, and art supplies; Tonka trucks, small-hand size tools and paints, encyclopedias, roller skates and skis; and young men and women as if they were worlds better than royalty.

Burt was given to me when I was little. Everyone else thought he was Pooh, but I didn’t like that it sounded like poop, or that he was being pooh-poohed, so I secretly called him Burt. We snuck ginger snaps from the cupboard together. Continue reading →

WHERE DO THESE IMAGES COME FROM, ANYWAY?

Posted on by April 24, 2023

MARTHA, Sunfaced

I was surprised by this series of black, blue and white drawings. I’d been working on a whole nother series, and suddenly, these popped into my brain and demanded release.

I can’t help it. I just keep seeing all these new beings, and have to draw them, before the inner clamor drives me batty. Continue reading →

THE FIRST TIME I WAS VIOLATED

Posted on by April 24, 2023

Shylee

I went home that day all stirred up inside. I had no idea it was wrong of him to touch me. I had no idea it was what we’d call grooming, now. I just knew….

I was 13 years old the first time I was raped. Not to worry, this will not be a rant or a self-pity party. Rather, a story about overcoming evil who took the form of a ‘nice’ man everyone liked and respected. Maybe more of a cautionary tale. I guess.

The summer before my sophomore year, my mother thought it would be a good thing to get my teeth taken care of before I was sent away to school in the fall. Well-thought-of in the community, not overly expensive, doing good work, Dr. Rosen (close, but not his real name) was her choice. Continue reading →

PUBLISHED! INSIDE SECRETS: Stories I’ve Never Told Anyone: Volume VII – Stone Carver in Italy

Posted on by April 22, 2023
I’m very pleased to say that my latest INSIDE SECRETS book, Volume VII, is now out and on amazon! All about my crazy trip to Italy to learn how to carve marble.
You can get it in print here: https://amzn.to/41RZgk1 
Along with my tales of adventures, woes, and odd situations, I have included 70+ images, with 42 sculptures – three times as many images as in any of the other volumes!
Here is the link for the less expensive ebook on gumroad – you get the immediately downloadable pdf file with my sculpture stories and illustrations. Android and OS accessible.
Get the Ebook here for only $5, or you can choose what you want to pay:
atlyon.gumroad.com/l/IS-VOL7

BITTEN BY A SPIDER. OR NOT.

Posted on by April 22, 2023

Instead of coming to the surface and breaking out, the itchy-burny-hurty toxins spread out into the rest of my instep and into my head….

Bugs!

A month ago, I was bitten by a spider. Or something. I don’t know, because I never even saw the thing – I was sleeping.

It got me seven times – one on my left thigh, one on my right thigh, and the rest in a trail all the way down to my instep.

Even though I was asleep, I knew something was going on, because I remember being conscious of my legs itching like fire.

The one on my instep was the worst. It was making me crazy until I finally woke up. Continue reading →

MY BODY KNEW WHAT TO DO, EVEN WHEN I DIDN’T

Posted on by April 21, 2023

The neighborhood women were complaining that I was ‘out flaunting’ myself, and their men were spying on me all day!

Who We Really Are

After the big hurricane of ’82, my kids and I decided to move to a bigger place down the road in Kekaha, a wisp of a town on Kauai, in Hawaii.

Most of the folks who lived in Kekaha were Filipinos who worked at the sugar mill and their families. The house we moved to was a newly-built two-story house in an all-Filipino community. My kids and I were the only haoles – white folks – in the entire neighborhood. The new place was closer to their school so they could ride their bikes to and fro.

Our house was on the immediate inland side of the road that separated our place from the beach. We had a spectacular view of the ocean and Niihau, the forbidden island. Continue reading →

DON’T LET LIFE BLOCK YOU  -  EVEN HURRICANES

Posted on by April 21, 2023

Poipu Outrigger

On a dark mid-November day in 1982, the boisterous, heavy-breathing Hurricane Iwa* swept in and wreaked havoc upon the island of Kauai, in Hawaii. (*pronounced EE-vah)

I was a studio potter and stone caver. My kids and I lived in one of the plantation houses in the tiny, sugar-plantation town of Kekaha, way out on the remote edges of the west side of the island.

When word was announced that the hurricane was upon us, I was at a conference being held in a hotel in Hanalei, all the way around on the other side of the island from where my house was. We all needed to evacuate the hotel.

As I hurriedly gathered my things, I watched from our first floor conference room as hotel folks started throwing the plastic lounge chairs into the swimming pool, carried potted plants and heavy tables inside, and pushed recalcitrant, unbelieving guests (a hurricane? we thought this was paradise! we’re staying put – this can’t be all that bad…) in to safety. Continue reading →

The POWER of A PINCH and A TWIST

Posted on by April 21, 2023

FLYING FEARLESS INTO the LIGHT

On a sunny late afternoon in NYC, I was on my way home from art school. Exhausted. We’d had a full day at the easel, standing on concrete floors, the instructors particularly nasty all day. As if our not knowing what they were talking about was our fault, somehow, and they were taking it out on every one of us, one by one.

I found it so hard to do the exercises they gave us that I was contemplating quitting school. I felt stupid, thick, hopeless.

I was so upset that I wasn’t walking. I was striding, eyes downcast on the filthy sidewalk, not paying much attention to the world around me.

Right near the entrance to my subway station, a young man dressed all in black came at me from the opposite direction. Fast. Smirking. Continue reading →

THE REAL POWER

Posted on by April 21, 2023

Send Love Always

Last night, I happened upon a new show on Amazon prime called The Power.

In it, young girls are discovering they have a new, odd sensation in their bodies — little courses of electricity that travel down their arms and make zippy jumping lines of lightning, that jump finger tip to finger tip. Sparks ignite upon anger or fear, and great arcs of immense power blast men and objects when the girl is ticked off or fearful.

I won’t ruin the story for you, because it’s done well and is a good script — a few minor oopses, but overall I’d give it a 9 out of ten.

You can imagine how the world reacts to such a phenomenon. At first, it’s called a hoax, and the male dominant power base tries to make the girls wrong, mentally ill, etc. The girls are punished, mocked, thrown in jail or isolation. One leader even cries ‘execute them!’ Continue reading →

ROSIE PEARL

Posted on by April 21, 2023

ROSIE PEARL & FRIENDS

When I was in my twenties, I lived with my then-hubby and our two small boys, way out in the country in northern California. One day as we were driving home from a trip to Eureka selling our pots, I spotted a really sad looking horse in a pasture by the side of the road.

We pulled over and took a closer look. There were two horses in a tiny pasture – a big bay and a small, almost pony-size Palomino.

The bay was a bossy wench who commandeered all the sunny dry spots, and wouldn’t allow the Palomino to stand for a minute in any of them. We watched as the bay repeatedly pushed her out of the sun and into the wet, soggy shadows, and away from any attempt to get to the feed trough. Continue reading →

SUCH A BAD DRIVER!

Posted on by April 21, 2023

Wooooing through the Night

After I left Italy, I went back to Hawaii, living there for about a year. More on that later. I then moved near San Francisco for a few months, until my friend Melissa invited me to come to New Mexico, to stay with her and help her renovate her house.

So I packed up everything I owned into one of those big honkin’ 24-foot long UHaul trucks. I didn’t want to leave my Toyota Forerunner behind, so I put it behind the truck on a 14′ trailer.

A more inept driver for such a long vehicle train you couldn’t have found. It was fun being up so tall, but I didn’t have a very good sense of where the sides were yet, or where the end of my rig was. I was probably the slowest, careful-est driver in the entire country that afternoon.

After an hour or so, I was still so nervous I had to pee – and I was out in the agriculture district, field after field, no turnoff or truck stop or even gas station was anywhere to be had. Continue reading →

STONE CARVER, Part 6

Posted on by March 27, 2023

Curiosity — Carrara Marble

Our first day! On a hot day in June, 1989, our carving group, comprised of five students all from the US, stood poised before the hunks of stone we’d selected, waiting for us on our sturdy, well-worn, waist-high carving tables.

They had been set up for us in a well-shaded summer courtyard outside of a painting studio at the Scuola del Arte in the beautiful historic city of Lucca. On two sides of the courtyard were small rooms for more students and their work.

STONE CARVER, Part V

Posted on by March 24, 2023

The bottom half of Hula Kahiko (Ancient Hula) — California Steatite, 24″ h.— carved after I left Italy

Just by looking at people’s feet, I could always pretty much dependably tell who was American and who was European (or other nationality) before I even met them.

Whereas we bumpkin Yanks almost always wore some brand of tennis shoes, flip-flops, or sneakers, Europeans mostly wore fine leather shoes or leather sandals (with socks!).

But one of the most distinguishing traits of Americans is how loud they are in public (notice how I’m disdainfully distancing myself…). Well, actually, they can easily be heard when in their rooms, too. And in restaurants. Continue reading →

STONE CARVER, Part IV

Posted on by March 22, 2023

Isabella

Upon buying my tickets to go carve marble in Italy, I also bought a language system called Sybervision so I could study Italian. It was the easiest language system I’ve ever used.

By the time I landed in Rome, I could ask where’s the city center, what street is my hotel on, where to eat, how to find the train or bus, what things cost, and more.

Sadly, I didn’t have to time to get the more advanced versions of the system, for more complex vocabulary and a deeper understanding of philosophical ideas – or even the simple difference between plain espresso and the local morning favorite, espresso-con-grappa.

It was good enough, though, to get me on the train going on up past Pisa to Lucca, and to my reserved hotel room. Which, oh we’re so sorry, had been given to someone else. Continue reading →

STONE CARVER, Part III

Posted on by March 20, 2023

The Maestros’ Carving Studio

I loved hanging out with the master carvers. They were there from before-god-gets-up early until 5pm, when they promptly took off their newspaper hats and scuttled home. They were incredibly skilled, and so fast! They spent most of their time carving replicas of famous works, like the David, and on enormous commissioned pieces and public works.

Our classes were held in the yard of an art school in Lucca, with field trips to a quarry and a couple other studios in Pietra Santa.

The first time we day-tripped up to see studios in Pietra Santa, I got to meet Mario Tomasi, one of the top carvers in Pietra Santa, which is like the marble carving capital of Italy. Continue reading →

STONE CARVER, Part II

Posted on by March 19, 2023
The Quarry

Prof. Roberto Bertola, holding my sculpture

In 1989, I was thrilled to be invited to go carve marble in a weeks-long workshop in Lucca, Italy, under the instruction of a bona fide marble-carving maestro, Professore Roberto Bertola.

I was excited because up until that point, I had only carved the softer stones like soapstone and softer varieties of alabaster.

Marble is in a higher class of hardness on the Moh scale, requiring completely different tools and procedures.

It would be a challenge for me to change horses mid-stream — going from soft to very hard, dense stone, different chisels and rasps, air tools, heavier stone…

click here to keep reading!

STONE CARVER, Part I

Posted on by March 17, 2023

I’m a self-taught stone carver.

I had been a studio potter for 15 years when, in late 1981, my car was struck right behind my driver seat by a guy running a red light through an intersection as I attempted to cross. My car did a 180 into a parked car, which slammed into my passenger side.

I felt OK when I finally got home from the police-hospital-check ordeal, but awoke the next day unable to move my legs.

I was told I’d never walk again. A single mom with 7 and 9 year old boys — right! Never walk again? Seriously? Who’d take care of them?!? ‘Never’ was no option.

I was referred to 3 different osteo docs by the hospital. All they could do was sigh heavily, wring their hands, and look self-important as they strutted across the exam room, each one hanging a long face Continue reading →

GIVE IT UP!

Posted on by March 15, 2023

Spinnaker

Since my parents took me sailing almost before I could walk, being able to sail is like being able to breathe. It’s more than second nature — maybe more like a second set of senses.

I can tell right away if someone is a sailor — there’s just something about them — the way they walk, the look in their eyes, the trace of wind on their skin, the strength in their backs. And how they watch the water, if we’re near a harbor or ocean.

You can shrug and say, “Eh! No big deal — it’s just a skill!”

But sailing is more than ‘just a skill.’ It’s a life-and-death Continue reading →

MAKE ART, NOT WORRY!

Posted on by March 12, 2023

I was stunned when the first lockdown was announced. Like most, my first thought was, “I can’t go OUT?” But then I realized – I hardly go out anyway!

I’m an old fart, so I don’t walk well, and I’m deaf as a post with failing hearing aids, so interactions are difficult to start with. Pair that with people wearing masks so I couldn’t lip read made it so I found myself begging people to step back and pull the mask down so I could get what they were saying, or seeing them be really uncomfortable shouting way louder than they wanted, just so I could hear.

I gave up trying to socialize after only a couple of weeks. I felt like I was in my own isolated prison.

Then one morning I realized – Continue reading →

SHE’S NOT THERE!

Posted on by March 8, 2023

Love Yourself First

You’re writing a book! That’s great! You’re going to help people, entertain them, introduce them to something new and/or innovative, or even change the world with your ideas.

Let’s say you’re a therapist or health or emotions specialist, and you want to help a person get past unwanted memories of trauma.

You’ve gone to school, gotten degrees, certificates, masters certs. You’ve done years and years of internship, clinical and practical trainings, and more years experience in your own practice.

You know the ins and outs of this person’s problems, why she is struggling, the logical reasoning and the emotional structures under and behind it all.

What’s your biggest problem, right off? Continue reading →

PRACTICING PEACE

Posted on by March 8, 2023

Practicing Peace

Many years ago in the mid-80s when I lived in Honolulu, I had a psychic reading with a gal named Alice Anne, who was well-known and very popular.

At the time, I had a fairly large house with a living room that had enough space to seat 20 or so people. I hosted classes and workshops for her and others who were channels, psychics and healers.

I’d been struggling to make a living as a sculptor. I had two fast-growing teen boys who ate the entire house down to the foundations every day, and I was hard-put to meet expenses. I asked for this reading to see if there was any input that would help.

I signed up for a reading with AA because she seemed to be the least influenced by her rational mind during her readings. Continue reading →

THE ANCIENTS

Posted on by March 1, 2023

When T and I moved into the little one-BR house on Maui near the beach, no one thought to mention it had been built over an ancient Hawaiian burial ground. It had been covered up in the late 1800s to make room for a white-man’s housing development, rows of little plantation houses for the cane-field workers.

I suppose that knowledge was long gone from the minds of the people who had subsequently built up the place, but it certainly wasn’t long-gone from the locals’ minds.

On a casual stroll around the neighborhood soon after moving in, a little old local man came up to us and told us we should ‘skit’ as soon as we could. That because of the nature of the land, it was dangerous in that house, and Bad Things would happen to use if we stayed there. Continue reading →

UNDER THE ORDERLY NIGHT SKIES

Posted on by February 27, 2023

The Dock

We finally got to Huntington Beach, and stayed with T’s mom for a couple weeks. After our snowy misery back east, the good weather seemed just this side of paradise. T got to bliss out surfing every day, while I filled drawing pads and played in the sand. But soon it was obvious we were outstaying our welcome.

We bought an old car and headed north, back to Santa Cruz. By the time we reached Capitola, a quaint little touristy town just south of SC, we were too tired to go another foot. We found a funky old motel down by the water and got a room.

We liked the place – it was cheap, cozy, and near everything we needed, so we booked for a week, to see if we wanted to just stay there. I liked that idea, since we’d be farther away from T’s old crowd.

My perceived sense of safety from them wasn’t to last. Continue reading →

THE CORNER THAT ALMOST KILLED US

Posted on by February 26, 2023

The Corner

The rest of our visit with my folks was blah-normal. At last it was time to go back to California.

After about a nano-second of deliberation, T and I decided that finding a hire-car to deliver to the west coast for someone was a much preferable idea over hitching back. We had had enough of risking our lives with nutty drivers and crazy truckers.

I’m sure the percentage of ‘nice’ or ‘good’ truckers far outweighs the ones who are stoned out of their minds on speed or just plain crazy, but we were’t taking any chances.

Now, remember I keep saying how un-street-smart I was? Continue reading →

A HARD-WON PEACE

Posted on by February 24, 2023

In the air around us, a huge, heavy burden lifted.

Our drive from Des Moines to Long Island was flawless. I was almost shocked at how easy and fun it was, after our two almost-fatal encounters with truckers. Our ride, Harley, was a delightful man who, instead of leaving us off in Des Moines as we had planned, invited us to stick with him all the way to the end of his route. So we did, ending up in a town only a few miles from where we wanted to go.

He told us all about his enormous family, pointing out each person in the tiny photos on his dashboard, each one coming alive as he recanted their unique personalities and hilarious antics.

Since my folks lived on a narrow country lane, it would have been impossible for Harley to squeeze his giant truck through all the tree-lined roads to get there. So, sadly now, we parted ways at the Huntington train station. Continue reading →