Friday, October 12, 2018

The Heart Seen photos "thank you!" from (me!) sandra, tvgp

in rocks and the heart seen in ice cream x2!  that dessert is blessed squidmann…   made with love.  I spied hearts in the peppers in the employee break room..   on the sidewalk, in a parking lot..on a tree in capitola /which my sexy said looks like a baboons butt..         - carla in her yard, carole at the beach, peg in a pothole..         and more to come once photos are uploaded..   LOVE how this collection keeps growing!  xoxo  so grateful

and reminder:  the heart seen collection is only of heart shapes not made with human intention..  but I still appreciate hearts found/shared that were made intentionally.. so a few additions to that collection also:



     


  



***          ***          ***          ***          ***          ***

carole walked past this heart in bricks many times, but only noticed it after making other heart seen contributions..  so her eyes have been opened..  and her daughter too  -starting to see/notice hearts  
great make up by squidmann/spikes cousin.. 

and, heart seen in the shadow of the old oak tree









posted by SHE @ 11:22 AM 0 comments

Monday, September 03, 2018

Do You Still Hate.. Still Hate (me!)? sandy harrison

 
circa 1977

I can't remember what year it was..

but I'm pretty sure I was in southgate's talent shows, 4 or 5 times total.

even though,  -I had no actual talent.

***

but, yes..  if I remember correctly, my debut would have been when I was in the first or second grade:

singin' and dancin' to, "me & my teddy bear"   -and my younger sister, 

well, her entire responsibility would have been just to sit there in a teddy bear costume, while I sang and danced around her; but..

she just didn't want to do it. too shy even in a costume.  -cried.   fled the stage...

so, I was forced to use a giant stuffed teddy bear; but the show did go on, of course.

anyway..

i was a student of the terry eastwood dance studio; the eastwoods were famous in our neighborhood, very well regarded, and they lived just two doors down from us..

and, i also remember learning and performing, with three or five other dancers, 
"the pussy cat polka"    -yes..    a tap dance number i think..    

i only barely remember, but if i give it some effort, i can see in my imagination; on my memory screen:

black leotards, black tights, black tap shoes (jazz shoes?)
our faces all painted with cute whiskers, and cat ear headbands

"let's do the pussy cat polka"   jump up, jump back, cup your mouth with both hands

"me-ow, me-ow, me-ow"

and, i remember my dad doing some MC'ing..    one line jokes in between acts..

and my mom and a neighbor friend,  -also,  -costumes..  some entertainment in between acts..  dog chasing a cat?

and i did have a very successful number!  **a big hit!  with a dance i choreographed but did not perform in;  that was my actual talent, choreography

but i'm sharing all this as a stall technique really.

because the talent show that stands out the most in my memory
is of course the one that yields the most embarrassment and humiliation

i barely could retell the story to my daughter recently; so interrupted by my own hysteria

and all it takes, really... is one glance at the picture I've posted above.

i'm not even sure how it re-surfaced.

and i'm really not sure what was the most important to me at the time:

being in the talent show?

or having some legitimate reason to wear the sexy satin white vest with long sparkly fringe strands.

my guess is,  i saw the vest first...drooled..  and then came up with the idea

"wanna sing with me in the talent show?"

yes, that's deanna, the taller, thinner one next to me    -Deanna

i really am just making this part up, because..

i can't imagine for one second that she asked me to sing with her..

it seems more probable, that 

well, post my parents divorce, there was no more money in the budget for dance classes..

but i still needed to be on stage

somehow..  some way...

and i needed to wear that vest!

and so, add those together

no dance lessons + white satin vest with fringe + talent show coming up...

and even though i had absolutely no talent for singing

what i did have, was..

"inspiration!"

i was just completely inspired by the hit song of the time

/wait!  now i can go figure out what year it was, by finding out what year the song came out..


hold on!   be write back...

***

well, it hit the air-waves in 1973, but i'm sure i'm older than 7 years old in the picture..

anyway, 

i was soooo moved by this song!   ...the story!   the melody, the voices, the rhythm..

the story!

because it was about this guy..   this guy who went to prison..

and for what, we don't know.. but he went to prison

and, now he was getting out..

and he was gonna try and go back and find his girlfriend..

but, maybe she would not want anything to do with him anymore, because..

because he got sent to prison..

and so, he writes her this letter, 

and in the letter, he tells her 

well, he tells her to tie a yellow ribbon around an ole oak tree if she will still be his girlfriend

that was gonna be the sign..

he didn't have the guts to just ask her 

he was too scared

so, in this letter, he just said he would come by her house in a bus

and if he sees the yellow ribbon

that's a yes

and if there is no yellow ribbon

he needs to just keep going past her house with his new freedom and broken heart

and, 

you don't know!    -the first time you hear the song..

when he gets on the bus..

and he drives to her house..


you don't know!


"i'm comin' home, I've done my time..   and I've got to know what is, and isn't mine..

if you received my letter, tellin' you i'd soon be free..

then you'll know just what to do..

IF! you still want me..."


it's a very big IF, the first time you hear the song


and, anyway..

it's got a catchy melody, and a suspenseful, emotional story

very sing-a-long-able

which i did every time it came on.    knew every lyric.   bought the 45, i'm sure.

and it was that song, 

yes..

a song about a man who'd gone to prison

that would mark my   -not dancing

but, singing debut, at southgate elementary school.

and not  -my-

but, "our"   singing debut.    -because i don't think Deanna had sang before either;

not on stage.


anyway,  we auditioned and got in.

and that says nothing about our talent by the way, and everything about the quality of the judging.

i will take no blame.

they encouraged us.

and i do remember rehearsing

~dress rehearsal.  which was when I officially got to wear the satin white vest with fringe and feel like a Hollywood super star

and Deanna, solid gold!

and the two of us..

i mean, it was a talent SHOW, not a talent competition, 

but, if it would have been a competition..

NUMERO UNO

i had no doubt.   that's all i'm sayin.

so, someone behind stage would place the needle on the record

and we sang along.

and, i'll be the first to admit, i should have been lip syncing and letting Deanna do the actual singing, 

but i fear that i thought i really could sing

[see archives for traumatizing 4th grade choir experience; 
exhibit AKA: judicial evidence to the contrary]

anyway..

when we rehearsed, i clearly and vividly remember, we both stood politely near and mutually shared the mic, and maybe snapped our fingers and swayed a little to the melody as we each sang our hearts out individually with absolutely no schooling on, or personal desire to, actually harmonize with each other, or the record.

that was rehearsal.

***


but what happened on the night of the LIVE PERFORMANCE...

well, 

with the lights, 

and the energy of the audience..

and well,

i'm not sure exactly all the circumstances that come into play here, 

all I know, 

and painfully remember is this:


there we were, 

me in my sexy white satin fringe vest, 

her in her, sold gold sparkle vest, 

the introduction..

the curtain opening..  the lights

the audience..

some applause..

and, 

well, 

-for most of the song, the story..  we were singing write along, 

just as we had dress rehearsed it

but, then there was this break..

like, 

a part in the song where there is only music, no lyrics to sing-a-long to, 

just music, until the lyrics and the story pick back up.

and how long was it?   -that music only part?

I don't know.


but during rehearsal, it seemed like two seconds.   every time we sang it, it seemed like only two seconds.

but during the LIVE PERFORMANCE

it suddenly felt like minutes, not seconds..


it started to feel like   -forever!   -just standing there..  not singing, not doing anything!

with all those thousands and thousands of people watching

and, 

without any warning to myself, or Deanna..

I just sort of..

started swirling around, and moving across the stage

I think I added some arm movements, a counterclockwise turn, and a step-ball-chain

and came up with a pretty good impromptu dance to do while we were waiting for the next set of lyrics.

and, I somehow timed it perfect.

so I danced all the way to the other side of the stage

and (circle, twirl, snap, clap) back to the microphone,  

just in time to pick up and start singin' again when the lyrics started


only, 

as I was spontaneously dancing back toward the microphone

-where Deanna remained; just standing there.. doing nothing; forever


well, 


I saw a look in Deanna's eyes that could have landed her in prison

-for killing me!


you've all seen, 

and you all know, don't you

the look.


"if looks could kill"   people sometimes say, or "daggers in the eyes"

I mean, 

she was soooooo angry with me

extremely "pissed off" I think the saying was when I was in grade school.


betrayed!  on stage!  in front of thousands of people!  by a white-fringe-vest wearin'- back-stabbing, show-stealing, secret-dance-move-lyin'-cheatin' talent show stage hog!


but, to this day, I can't explain..

it was not pre-meditated; swear on a stack of bibles
no crossed fingers; no take backs


what came over me?


but, 

dear Deanna, 


"i'm coming home, I've done my time..

and I've got to know is your forgiveness mine..

if you should read this blog post

'bout when we were both on stage..

then you'll know, you can make a choice

to share..

or burn this page.



share.. or burn this page..


oh!  tie a yellow ribbon 'round an ole oak tree
it's been 40 some odd years

do you still hate          -still hate me?


if I don't see a ribbon 'round the ole oak tree..

i'll stay on the bus

forget about us

put the blame on (me!)…


twirl, spin, circle, clap



oh, tie a yellow ribbon round an ole

an

ole oak tree


****



applause.
bow
curtain closes.


**pix from my 'debut' as a choreographer & costume designer
at southgate elementary school's annual talent show
staring karin harrison and lori lamantia
1979
and if memory serves me correctly
the spectacular dance number was to the 1978 release by Toto
Hold The Line


and my mom   -being the loving, supportive mom she was
she told me several times

'honey, there were several people who loved that dance, and wanted to know which dance studio
karin and lori went to..'

and i told them you just turned our garage into a dance studio.


                                                                     and that makes me want to go hunt down some more pictures, because

our brother turned that same garage into his rock band's studio too!




posted by SANDRA MICKANEN @ 11:59 PM 2 comments

Sunday, August 03, 2008

TO THE TOP OF PLEASANTON RIDGE! by (me!) sandra, ttgp






i tend to exercise much like i clean. not at all for a long time, then; gangbusters.






this helps explain why, having not taken a walk since 1873, i decided yesterday i'd hike the pleasanton ridge.






i've been wanting to do this for a long time, because it's been such a long time since i've done it. and i tried interesting my children in joining me, which helps explain why i hiked alone.






but i wanted to return. i wanted to return to that picnic table at the top of that one hill..






sit down, tired, exhausted; but at the top. and let the view be my reward.






and so i drove, drove along foothill, pretending when i opened the sunroof of my saturn hybrid that i was actually pressing a button which would lower the entire top of my audi convertible, and i smiled at the trees. i did pick the perfect morning.. perfect climate.. perfect day






and i pulled in the dusty parking lot, joining several others who'd arrived before me, with their dogs, or bikes, or running shoes. and water bottle, keys, camera in bag; i began.






my first stop was the entry gate, where i spent a good 3 minutes jiggling the metal bars trying to figure out how it opened. up and over? no. down and then left? no. reach my hand through and twist? no. and i could feel the pleasanton ridge veterans in the parking lot watching me, smiling. let's see how long it takes her and i could feel myself turning white to pink, so without turning around and asking anyone, i just kept trying until, "oohhh! it just slides to the write.. simple simon.. i've got it.. rookie's got it"






and then; i began.






my next stop was the first patch of shade i could find. there i took several deep breaths and a gulp of water. i don't remember it being so steep. has part of the mountain fallen away since i was here last? and then, having survived the first 5 minutes, i commited myself to hiking to the top.






to the top! to the pic~a~nic table!






around two or three steep bends, i stopped again for water, and was rewarded with a spectacularly wide vista of rolling hills ~golden brown~ under a clear blue sky, artistically framed by the light of a loving sun. so peaceful, vast and still, but with a bizarre border on the bottom of tiny cars racing by






i hiked some more wondering if the entire journey was uphill. passed a dad and his two sons on their way down the hill towards the parking lot, "am i one tenth of the way there?" i asked.






"depends on how far you want to go," the dad said.






and i did not say anything out loud in return. -how could i? took all my breath to ask my original question. but i thought to myself, why, i want to go to the top of course! and continued on.






i was passed up by several joggers, dog walkers, bikers and centenarians with hiking canes, but did not let this dispirit me. i remained commited all the way to the first brown marker stake, which, much like the scarecrow, pointed in more than one direction:






sycamore hike? oak hill? ridge line? and write about now is when it occured to me, that i should have grabbed a mat. (oh, now that's a freudian typo isn't it) i mean, a map.






in my mind, my poor retarded memory mind, the pleasanton ridge had only one hike. from the bottom, along one obvious and well traveled, windy, mostly flat and only sometimes steep, trail, to the top, where there is a bronze picnic table waiting, and a glorious golden view. so,



now what?






i had no coin in my bag to flip. and sycamore sounded appealing, but for reasons i'm unaware, i followed oak, the oak trail. and i was just sure this would take me to the top, one small step at a time.






and every metaphor, cliche, every thing ever said, thought, written and shared about success, about getting to the top.. replayed in my mind as i treked up my mountain. from it's not the destination it's the journey.. to, blah, blah, begins with one step... to, if at first you don't succeed,


take a picture. so that's what i did. it's not a picture from the top, it's a picture from the side. because i felt as if at least i had accomplished something by making it from the pleasanton view, to the sunol view, (or is that livermore? san jose? castro valley?) and i wanted to remember. i wanted evidence.




i hiked on through several more gradual turns, and was treated to scary sounds in the bushes.. sometimes it was just birds hoping from branch to branch. sometimes it was giant jack rabbits. sometimes monsters. and then, "oh! look deer"



and i passed an old, old, abandoned, haunted, wood something along the way too.. a house? barn? i don't know what it was, but it was very broken, very dark, very creepy. i laughed at the do not enter sign hammered on the side -no worries there- i wouldn't enter if there was open suitcase full of money



and near it.. just past it.. what? positioned in the dug out ground, some dark and scary combination of wood planks and curly, old tree branches headed in every direction. the dangerous double dare entry into a secret underground collection of skeletons and failed cia experiments



and by this time i was starting to realize a few things..

i started to realize i would need to hike back whatever distance i hiked forward. and i started to realize this was not the way to the picnic table. i started to realize i was all alone. i started to realize i forgot to trim my toenails and my shoes were too small. i started to realize this was not my brightest idea..



but what if? what if i'm just three gradual bends away... what if the picnic table IS just up and around three more gentle bends



this is after all, the story of my life. so many times, too many times, i'm lost. driving in circles, circles, and heading south... south, west, east

shortly thereafter learning that had i gone one block -just one block- north. i could have saved myself twelve years.



so i continued up and around until reaching another marker stake in the ground. and i did let this dispirit me. i was by this time near a beautiful residential home. a ranch, i guess. and what an odd sight to see tucked in the midst of all this nature and wilderness. who would live here? why?



and i let my imagination fill in the blanks in many different ways, while i sipped some more water, checked my phone for the time, and decided to turn around and get started in on the 45 minute+ return to the parking lot; at the bottom.

i was passed by a truck shortly after.. coming from the ranch ... and i let my imagination fill in many blanks again..



and i tried to find a short cut back by asking a jogger, but true to my broken compass.. this shortcut added 20 minutes.



eventually though,




eventually, i made my way back. and captured this picture along the way to include with my collection. i've not decided what to title it yet. but i like how the heart is leaning, it's edges curling; how you can peek through the nearly perfect circle hole in it; how, that twig.. how it does not so much look like it is piercing the heart, but reaching in to wake it; tickling it softly, gently




then, having hiked for over 90 minutes, i celebrated at redcoats downtown with a mimosa, fruit and raisin bread. it was not the bronze picnic table at the top, but just as good; just as good.


in fact, delicious.

posted by SHE @ 6:42 AM 11 comments

Wednesday, June 19, 2019

Alameda Bliss. 2019 1st yard art designed and named by (me!) sandra, tvgp #bliss @writeousmom



*****
...while I wait for all the pictures to come in from this very recent, highly blessed milestone experience; my daughter's graduation from UO, 

   I will write and capture in this blog, AKA: my external memory storage; this fabulous creative idea and experience:  ALAMEDA BLISS
I will start by sharing how I named it:   the first design on our front yard, out of God only knows how many to follow.  I did not name the design based on any materials that I used; did not name it based on anything it looks like, any color, did not name it based on any poem, or quote, or sentence or lyric or person I've admired..


I named it very specifically based on what I experienced internally, every single time we opened the garage and set out to start, and add on to it.    my sexy always getting out the music box, helping lift the heavy bags of  sand, mulch, bark to pour into the bowls/dishes I would carry around the front yard as I designed section by small section, handful by handful; him sitting in his chair with soft yellow cushions; encouraging me and keeping me company.  (me!), figuring out as I went, with no master plan at all, what I liked to see here, vs. there...

neighbors would smile and joke watching him sit while i carried the sand and was hand-designing
"i like the division of labor i see here"       

the next design will be more collaborative for sure, but anyway..
I named it, because while I was grabbing a handful of sand here, and handful of mulch for over there, I was repeatedly seeing a vision in my imagination; from my actual real memory files, flashes from when my mom and her husband rick took my children to Alameda Beach.   Over and over I saw this..   my children were very young.  Taryn, 6 maybe, which would make Jack around 4 years old.   And my mom is with an umbrella chair, and my children  -her grandchildren, are at the shore of alameda beach, with nothing more than maybe a pail and shovel; but maybe not even that.   Maybe it is just the sand, shore, ocean, soft waves, a cloud covered sun,  birds, and debris, and passersby, and little unidentifiable crawling creatures in the sand...   the company of each other.   and, they are there for HOURS.    NEVER BORED; ever!   just playing, walking around, discovering   -protected; free.. with love and snacks nearby

they were at those magical ages, and in a magical time.  it was before cell phones.  it is before they have to worry one second about what they are wearing and how it will look in a picture.   it is before indoor video games, and digital distractions of any kind.  it is what it wasn't, as much as what it was

   -it was not Disneyland or great America; not an amusement park; not a birthday party
   -it was not an obligation; it was not motivated by social media status in any way
   -it wasn't because it would generate 'followers'   or look good on a resume. it was untouched by Instagram and not inspired for or by facebook

-it was the purest form of truly happy experiences.  it was all they needed:  grandma, grandpa, a safe beautiful place to explore, some snacks..  water   /and sun screen...   

and this brought HOURS! of joy... 


my external experience   -having Robert's front yard as an empty canvas..   

 this is our front yard, he will remind me..  ours     our home...   not my home; our home..

***

I was the happiest I have ever been in my entire life every single time I added on to this temporary design in  -our- front yard.   no master plan.   just a little bit here, a little bit there, filling up the yard section by section.    along the way, we agreed our front yard is OUR empty canvas.   this first time being a complete experiment  -I did 99% of the designing.   but we will rake it up here shortly, and start with a new empty canvas, and split and share the pleasure.   come up with an idea together:  "fireworks for the 4th of july!"   and then draw it out, then design it together

because WOW! to the joy of being outside in the morning, listening to the birds sing, visiting with neighbor passersby, enjoying a hot cup of coffee, listening to music, and playing/creating in the front yard.   pure BLISS!   no agenda, no worries; all pleasure, just fun

and it is a win/win situation, because Robert does not want a lawn; he hates the time/energy of keeping one up.   I have only applauded him, because I know how many people have a lawn and resent it...  "a lawn has never been mandatory" I remind him, "a lot of people don't realize that.."  i said with a smile, and, borrowing from what Jacquie Williams Courtright often says, "YOU HAVE OPTIONS!"

and we have decided   2.  our front yard is a big empty canvas,  that 1.  like a chalk board, can be used, erased (raked) and used again, for 3. whatever we want!

and go back several steps and days and weeks, because what started this whole thing was a pure happy no~accident.    there was the prelude of Robert not wanting a lawn; yes..   and the prelude of the two of us de-weeding the front yard of hundreds of weeds post the rains and his surgery  -which took several weeks.   the diversity of weeds so astounding I took lots of pictures..

and, worth mentioning how Robert skipped pulling out the beautiful daisies from their random spot in the yard, and so, we both work around this bouquet of obvious happiness..    and, we work around, incorporate and celebrate, and even added to the poppy population which already thrives here..

 so, in what looking backwards appears to have happened pretty quickly; over an amount of time we paid no attention to whatsoever, the front yard evolved from a forest of unsightly weeds, into a colorful, happy, creative design like nothing else you or i have seen in any neighborhood yard to date

but I almost forgot to explain what I intended to explain a couple paragraphs ago:  the happy it was no-accident.     it happened over mother's day weekend, when I co-made the 'love u mom' display at alden lane nursery.   -when I was cleaning it up, you see...    I lifted one of the pots of sand to move inside the garden store, and there was a hole in it, so the sand started pouring out all over the place

the light sand fell over the darker dirt that houses the 400 year old entrance valley oak tree..

immediately I realized "the potential!"   -how I could draw, with sand,  on Robert's front yard of dirt...

what else might there be?   and so I searched through all the soil/bark/sand offerings at alden lane, and noticed the greatest contrast color wise would be: light sand; micro bark, which is red; and then black mulch.   and I LOVED the result!  love it so much!  loved every minute creating it..    love adding to it..   and will love raking it away too, so we can start again because it is SO MUCH FUN!

it is the creative process that yields the greatest joy; the result is just...    a tiny bit sad like when you finish reading a great book, or reach the end of an engaging movie..

and, so, i think of how many people have a permanent landscape they will maintain, but the landscape itself does not really change.  it is going to be changing it up that keeps us motivated, creative, having fun, enjoying the outdoors and each other.    i can't thank God or Robert enough for empty canvases.      hallelujah & amen!



 
 











posted by SHE @ 12:23 PM 0 comments