Carol Larson - textile artist

This week we scurried through 3.5 hours of Bay Area traffic to go visit old friends who have relocated to the Sierra town of Groveland. This little burg, whose main street is two blocks long has a man-made lake around which scores of people have built vacation and retirement homes. Our friends bought a house two blocks from the airstrip as he is a retired commercial pilot, content on getting out of there as fast as possible. Seeing that they have to drive an hour to the supermarket, I am with him there!

It is beastly hot in CA right now, and more so in the mountains. My old mindset tells me the mountains where the elevation is minimum 4000 feet higher than where I live is going to be cooler, but no! It was hot as the devil up there, but with splendid warm summer evenings, which we seldom have living so close to the coast.

Tuesday, we packed a picnic to go up to Tuolomme Meadows, which at 10,000 feet is far above Yosemite Valley. The park was not crowded, as school has started for most. It was 95 when we left Groveland at 10 am, and not an hour later we were climbing into the big dark gray cummulus clouds leftover from Hurricane Dean, which dessimated Mexico a week ago. All hell broke loose as rain, sleet, and hail pelted the car and lightning and thunder rolled right overhead. I got soaked going just 4 feet from the car to the porta-potty!

While I neglected to shoot the sno-cone on the windshield, I did capture some great lichen and bark. The artistic mind is never at rest.

Today I am back home, trying to outfox the heat once more, with that chill of my damp clothes a recent memory. Had I not experienced such unusual (for us) August weather, I wouldn’t believe it myself!

It seems there is nowhere nor time when one can drive anywhere in the San Francisco Bay Area without sitting in traffic. Today I did what should have been a 45 min drive to meet an old friend for lunch. We were meeting halfway. It took me 70 mins there and 90 back. Between car races at the speedway, at a major junction; a huge grass fire and the recklessness of the ME generation setting off chain reaction accidents, all major roads between here and there were crawling.

And due to the endless consideration of our wealthy neighbors to the South, we have no public transit. They say it will bring riff-raff to their county, so instead they would rather see miles and miles of bumper cars. They have held everyone to the north of them hostage for their own selfish reasons.

I have worked long and hard at developing my patience gene, but still have little tolerance for jerk drivers, putting it in polite prose. So on the way home today, besides listening to traffic reports on the radio, I revisited the idea of leaving California.

Both hubby and I were born here; he is a native San Franciscan, which is even more rare. I would leave California in a NY minute, while he is wearing concrete shoes. Two things would immediately affect us: property taxes and health insurance. We could count on doubling our healthcare premiums, which already have increased 40% in six years since hubby retired. Our property taxes are well below the average thanks to Prop 13 passed back in the 70’s, which held the line on how much taxes could increase, if people stayed in the same house. We have.

So then I began to realize that we can’t afford to leave the state. The other little detail was this p-t job hubby picked up, since retiring as a firefighter. He would have to leave his job, which keeps him out of my hair most of the time! Oooh, put that in the con column! Another con is we have so many fabulous restaurants. You can tell a lot by a town by looking up restaurants in the yellow pages. If they list only fast food joints, it is not somewhere I want to live. Now the con column is much longer than the very short pro column, which is mostly getting out of the traffic.

Then I had a fabulous idea! I need to get me a driver! I need a chauffeur, then I can sew, knit, eat bon bons, do suduko, do e-mail, watch a DVD, have a glass of wine, visit with friends, whatever, just not drive and count morons! Why I could even pick up my old friend and we could drive around and visit. Hmmmm. I wonder if hubby will buy that idea; instead of getting a hybrid car, dear, let’s buy a limo!

I find inspiration in the most unusual things. Mostly I am inspired by texture, pattern or color, all of which are abundant in everyday life. The other day I was just knocked out when I walked into my studio and was immediately struck by this awesome pattern on the window.

My dear husband is painting the south side of the house this summer. The rest of the house doesn’t need it. Years ago, the artist in me chose a custom mix color of a grayed lavender, or is it lavender gray? At any rate, the paint has a fair amount of blue in it and subsequently it fades.

When he prepped the wall by scrubbing it in a TSP solution, the liquid mix ran down the window in this random pattern, which to me screams ART QUILT!

What dazzles me the most about it, is normally I would be upset at the state of the window because it will take forever to get it cleaned, but now I am dazzled at just how gorgeous it is. And it brings a huge smile to my face, because a couple of years ago, I dined in the Crowne Plaza restaurant at the Amsterdam airport; and the art in the restaurant, looked just like this! And no doubt they paid the big bucks for their art. All it cost me was a bucket of water, a measure of TSP and a sweaty husband!

The way my mind works is I break down, dissect, analyze and comprehend a subject in order to understand it. I find I am doing the same thing with my father’s dementia. Part of it may be my own survival instinct; I don’t want to get it myself. And then my aunt reminds me we all have it. It is there when we go into a room and can’t remember why we are there, or what we went for; it is there when we can’t think of the appropriate word. We joke they are senior moments; it’s dementia, no joke!

Yesterday my father got lost in his hometown. He was driving 5 miles to pick up his SO at the auto dealership. He is not supposed to drive outside of his neighborhood alone, yet she asked him to pick her up. She may have had a dementia moment, at that time.

Anyway, he got lost, couldn’t find the dealership and drove 60 miles throughout Walnut Creek looking for the Volvo dealer. So she called me and asked me if I knew where he was, or if I had heard from him? I live 90 mins away. I hadn’t.

Of course, I sprung from my newly found serenity to inner turmoil. Long story short, he showed up on her porch for dinner, about 30 mins later. What I really got out of this is how terribly sad this is, especially for a man whose life achievements were entirely based on his intellect.

And that this is the next challenge in my own life. The balance for me is to be the clear thinker in the family and yet be true to myself. I am not so far away from the anger I have experienced over his refusal to take accountability for my surgeries.

Which brings me back to breaking down dementia. All the medical community wants to do is treat it, and really is there any miraculous treatment? I need to just understand it. And my theory is based on observations of several with dementia, or early onset stages…

What all of these people have in common is the acute denial of feelings and emotions. All of my case studies have steadfastly denied death, grief, guilt, pain, heartache, etc etc etc. All of my case studies have persevered through life and stiff upper-lipped it, to survive. My theory is this has to have an impact on the brain. How can any person carry the weight of so much emotion without it damaging their brain cells?

I ran this theory by my extremely forgetful husband. He is one of my case studies! He thinks it is quite possibly a valuable theory. Either that or he just agreed with me, because that is what he does best.

A funny thing happened to me over the weekend. Another CFA member and I tooled over to Nevada for yet another enticing art gallery reception. For me it was a 500 mile roundtrip, and I was so pooped when I got home that I slept 10 hrs non-stop Sunday night. The funny thing is somewhere in between all the pavement, traffic and road stripes, the muse re-inhabited my body.

This is the same muse that has been more or less MIA since I came home from Europe two months ago. It held me hostage until I realized that actually I was resting not procrastinating. Or as my primary healer says, the pond was being re-stocked!

So somewhere either on highway 50, 49 or 80, the pond met its reserve. I woke up re-energized with so many design ideas, I have to write them down. I cannot stitch fast enough.

And to further add to this delight, I have been on the final phase of the TG Series for about a month. One idea turned to two, and now that the one is almost done, a third has popped into view. Yikes. Additionally there are ideas for new general work.

Several people have commented to me how the conclusion of the heavy duty emotional work on the Tall Girl issues have set me free. And I do feel it! Especially since I did the juice fast a month ago; I have not eaten processed sugar nor my beloved chocolate since. Additionally, I am eating half portions of what I was eating before. And my exercise routines are stronger. I feel better in my body than I have in decades. And the muse is back! I am doing the happy dance now.

Others have said they never could go without ______(fill in the blank). For me, it has taken a lifetime of the bakery lady blues, to choose to stop eating what was making me hurt so much! It is just that simple. No amount of cookies nor the world’s best 70% bittersweet dark chocolate tastes as good, as pain-free feels!

I feel like such a grownup, now!!! Just in time to rollover into my next decade…

Another day in paradise and I am in such a strange place. I am doing a little of a lot and not much of anything! I tend to think I am on summer vacation, even though it has been over 40 years since I was in school and had a summer break. When I was working, we always took fall vacations, so summer was work as usual. Somewhere in my psyche though, it is summer break.

Wonderful design ideas have come and gone; fortunately I have sketched them out. I have just finished the first piece, post-European holiday, which was nearly two months ago. Yesterday I started another. I worked for about 90 minutes and then I took a computer break. Even though I was wearing shoes and orthotics, my back hurt from standing, fusing, cutting and designing. Last night I did a bit more during commercials of a favorite TV show.

Today, I am entertaining going to a movie! Why would I want to go to a movie when I am in the middle of designing this next piece?! Ah, well, maybe I am on summer vacation again. It seems the relaxation I need before making a long-haul drive this weekend.

I have a book started, which seems to only get read at bedtime. I have numerous trade publications to read, and am still slogging my way through the wonderful summer issue of the SAQA Journal. I didn’t feel like reading about being a professional artist when my muse was in the tank. So I just flit around from here to there, accomplishing some small things, like making fresh juice from the heavily laden fruit trees; or fusing a bit, or knitting a bit, or reading a bit or e-mailing or watching a Netflix movie or whatever.

And the most amusing part to me is I don’t feel guilty! Actually I don’t do guilt or shame anymore….a total waste of energy. It is very gratifying to me to see how far I have come. My free spirit was broken as a small child. I think it is safe to say I have recovered.

The photo is looking through a hammock, at sunset on the Big Island of Hawaii.

Eons ago, I was watching Oprah. I used to be an Oprah junkie, but gave that up quite a while back. I figured it would serve me well this summer when reruns are on, but honestly I have watched maybe 3 shows all summer. That day eons ago, she had on people who were creating change in the world. In theory this is a great idea, if everyone just did one simple thing to improve the life of another; wow, how the world would change!

A minister from Kansas City, MO was on the show and he had delivered a sermon about complaining, and how we Americans have so much when so many have so little. He ordered some purple bracelets for his churchfolk to wear to remind them not to complain. The idea grew and grew and grew and then he went on Oprah and millions of people, including me ordered these free purple rubber bracelets. I was apparently having a funky day and thought somehow this bracelet would improve the quality of my life!

Today, while at the post office mailing slides, I checked my mailbox. And lo and behold here was the envelope from A Complaint Free World.

I am not going to wear it. It doesn’t go with my jewelry which is an observation, not a complaint! Mostly I have a very positive outlook on life and when I succumb to whining, I quickly get tense inside and then remember I am once again caught up in a personality contest. When I remove my ego from the situation, the complaints are over and I am once again at peace.

Many times in my life, I have been mislabeled as a complainer. If I say I am ranting, then I am complaining. When I speak of my health issues to my father, he says I am complaining. When I speak of being a tormented artist (the best ones are) people think I am complaining. Get over it! I am not complaining!!! Mostly, I am just sharing my story.

It is a good reminder though to be mindful of what I say. I know I am blessed. Losing two dear friends to cancer has taught me that. My overall good health reminds me. The passion I feel when I make art or paint cloth reminds me. My wonderful adult daughter, husband and pooch remind me. My life is good and blessed and I have nothing to complain about. I don’t need to wear a plastic band to remind me. Anyone want it?!