Santa Fe Cowboys: Sam, Sam and Tommie Lee

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Santa Fe Star Reportee, the paula paparazzi

“Committing another boundary invasion but here an interesting one. This is Sam Shephard in bar at Rio Chama. the 2nd time I’ve dined with him in Santa Fe. The first was with he, Jessica, and the kids in a French restaurant off Grant.  I think he had a driver.  Finally, I  found a place in Santa Fe where people knew KU basketball should be on the flatscreen, with wireless for my mac, with good beef.”

-Facebook, Mar. 19, 2011.

"Playwright Sam Shepherd"

Playwright Sam Shepard, Rio Chama Bar, Santa Fe, NM

Citings: Pink Adobe, sum 2004.

Sam Donaldson and date

Menu: Rosalea’s apple pie a la mode de cinnamon.

Trivia:  Sam Donaldson has a ranch.

comment:  Like flies to cowdung what I am doing wrong…even the celebrites I site seem to be landed kinda cowboys with ranches and they are climbing out of the wordwork…

Tommie Lee and his beautiful dark-haired wife were spied by Jack on the way to the restroom. Though, I felt we’re almost related already to Tommie Lee through my friendship with Paul Clark, an oil and gas landman in Amarillo, who was classmates at UT with Tommie’s wife #2.

Menu: dunno, since Jack spied him on a restroom trip he didn’t pause to glance.

Demeanor:  Tommie, grouchy. Wife, charming

Trivia:  After we dined, a son I know, his travel copy of Lonesome Dove for southwest road trips in hand, catches the eye of the pretty lady and asks for a sign from Mr. Jones.  “Where do you live?,”  she asks. “on a ranch”.  “so do we,”  she said. A signed copy, “Lieutenant Jack Call.”


“Ranching is one of the most creative things you can do.”

-A Landowner in San Saba and Van Horn, Texas. I saw this in an article about Tommie Lee Jones that was in Vanity Fair.


Lace, mr. diCaprio, and Greensburg

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"We love creative minds"

We love creative minds

Breaking the rule about my children with this one.  Lace was with Leo from the very beginning. She is also a psych(o) major.

Lace about the time of Gilbert Grape

Lace about the time of Gilbert Grape

She’s always had your back.

Mother:  “But what’s the deal with the models?”

Lace:  “He’s just going through a phase.”

Mother:  “But be careful what you wish for, it’s not always what it seems, look at Katie & Tom, look at Kelly & John.”

Lace: “Who’s talking about marriage?”  (see a girl child’s fear of rings)

Branding June 09. Jack and Lace, Kevin Lewis, the crew.

Branding June 09. Jack and Lace, Kevin Lewis, the crew. Lace is the one whose horse is pointing north.

And, we have some connections in Greensburg where we really appreciate your support.


le sketch du jour: The train to Paris. Those snotty little bastards. Stay away from the dark-skinned men. Sat. June 28, 1980.

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Trying to get my luggage in the overhead bin.

Sat. June 28, 1980.

Woke at 10:00. Ran to Le Lac Montrion (7 mi.).

Group went to Chamonix, but weren’t getting back ’til 7:00 & I had to be at bus then, so I stayed home to pack.

[I’m repeating myself, but I went over with KU French Department. I studied and traveled with them for two weeks, but I was actually enrolled in classes with Parsons School of Design, New York City, in their study abroad program. We studied the History of Decorative Arts in the Museum of Decorative Arts that is the north wing of the Louvre. And, we had brief lectures in afternoon on Paris history and urban planning. Then, we hit the streets to see all the arrondissements, boulevards, and buildings. These told the story of religion, kings, politics, power, prostitution, learning and most of all, people wine and food that are the things French that we love, despite WWII and their superior attitude about us saving their ungrateful asses from Hitler.]

a tangent: The French and WWII. Why American men refer to Frenchmen as “those snotty little bastards.”

You know I love the French. This is from so many men I know, and they do have a point since it seems to continue.  You know how that goes…”that accidental bomb dropped in France en route just slipped.”  Or, as someone on the internet put it….

“We only fucked up one place, we accidentally dropped a bomb on the French embassy. ‘Whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa! Aw, sorry about that fellahs. I’m sure we would have had better aim if we had more FUCKING SLEEP! Thanks for those 6500 extra air miles, you fuckheads, BUILD A NEW HOUSE!’ BLAM!!!”

Walked to town at 3:00.  Had café au lait $ read.  Lots of people came in.  I sat by a German Shepherd.

Jeanie and Bob took me to the station. Raining. Station was very stark.

Two nice ladies answered all my questions, but I am making progress→I kept kind of having them reiterate what they were saying about reserved seats vs. tickets, etc. & finally I said I’m American.  They said, “Oh! Vous parlez français bien!” J’ai dit “j’ai besoin de longtemps pour le comprendre.”  🙂 [I need a long time to understand]

Train was funny.  2 seats facing each other w/ overhead racks. [I always spent least possible, so even though overnight, I did not get a couche-lit with bed. They are like sleeping in a sardine can anyway though the train does lull.]

You should have seen me try to get my bags up.  I finally left one on the floor. An older couple and girl got in my car in Annecy. Wasn’t too bad except for the cold. I think I’ll get a bed the next time I take an all night trip.

one woman’s warning

[It is interesting to me that I so vividly remember a woman at the train station in Morzine speaking to me before I embarked on the train, but that I haven’t written about it.  She was older and looked very nice and kind to speak with me in French before I left. She was concerned about me being alone on the train to Paris. And, her particular words that I remember are warning me to be careful of “les Marseilleuses.” She mentioned that I would know because they had such dark skin. The French have so many cultures they accept that they don’t have the same p.c. hangups about speaking of racial generalizations we do in America. Of course, as with most people, people carry racial stereotypes that are formed for a reason, historical, regional, cultural. But, France has always welcomed and attracted such a multi-cultural population that I hardly think this can be termed “racist” in the “hating” fashion that it labels people who current venture into talking about race this way in America. There are many healthy things about being able to discuss race. Anyway, you’ll see later in the summer with my roommate, who slept with every man on the left bank from Marseilles, that this came into play with my immediate bunking situation in Paris.]





le sketch du jour: Wichita. Saturday July 2, 2011. by Paula Graves Adams

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Kress Energy, Douglas and Broadway. Wichita, Kansas.

Decided to get back into sketching the hottest day of the year in Wichita, July 3rd. 107 degrees. I had done cross-fit mash-up for an hour and then 2-1/2 more hours of fundamentals (lifts, etc.). But, I was downtown and it was the day to begin.

My sketching reveals my personality a little too much. My goal is to start like this and then work back to my primitive sketches as I had at the beginning of the summer in Paris. It’s all in the journey back to being a child, isn’t it?

Anyway, it is too stocky, but it doesn’t look as bad as it is because you can’t see the third bay.  I was sitting on the concrete curb in the sun, right by the street so cars were like 6′ away from me streaming down Broadway.

I finally just got too hot, so I threw in the towel and took pictures, as I decided to finish at home. When I spilled my Starbucks on it, I liked it even better and may have to get some watercolors to put color into the drawing. And, I like it the way it is.

Anyway, the pen is back in hand. It was very relaxing even though it doesn’t look it.

History of the building

And, it is Kress Energy. It has 51,000+ s.f. and 98% occupancy. Beautifully restored. Schafer Johnson Cox Frey Architecture just up the street did the restoration/renovation.  This is the architectural firm where I worked when Lacy went to Wichita Collegiate for High School.

The bank where you change your money when traveling abroad is a branch of Bank of America (across the street and big marbley glass monster building) but the international banking is located in the lower level of this building. It is a very intimate place to get your pesos and crib notes for travel conversions.

And, Kress Energy is for sale and is a bargain, I think about 3.3 million. 58 buildings nearby have already been purchased. Wichita is like a frontier town right now, very exciting. But, it’s getting bought up, better hurry. I think Delano is still affordable as well as the Arts District south of sprint and the design district just west of 135. Come to Wichita!

Here’s the description:

Kress Energy Center is a landmark building meticulously restored and updated to meet the standards of discerning firms, it offers timeless elegance rarely found in today’s offices. The property is attached via sky-walk to Bank of America Building and Kansas State Bank Building. Surface parking for 26 and additional parking available in the Bank of America parking garage.

Located in the heart of Wichita. Kress Energy Center is on the NW corner of Douglas and Broadway streets. Kress Energy Center provides it’s Tenants with access to such key areas as Kansas State Bank Building, Bank of America Center and the Petroleum Club.

Anyway, just had to do my sales pitch. It really was an incredible building when it was built. Wichita an oiltown so people do it right.



le sketch du jour: the train schedule, little mouse, une fête de coutume.

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Hank wore a BOZO wig and danced w/ all the girls and put his hands clear on their ASSES!!

June 27, 1980.

Woke at 10:00. to more freezing rain. Ran anyway (4 1/2) in freezing rain. Hot water deal was broken :(. Froze.

Lunch -some paté thing. french frîtes & great spinach!! Yaourt & fruit.

Went downtown at 3:00 to l’autogare to find out train schedule. I’m taking a train that leaves at 10:00 PM at night and arrives at 7:00 AM.  I take a 7:30 train from Morzine to another town that train leaves from. [sorry grammar] Then in Paris, I’ll take a taxi to hotel.

[I went with KU French Language Department as I was a French minor, but I left the group early. I was studying with Parsons School of Design/NYC au musée des arts décoratifs in the Louvre. The two courses we took were a History of Decorative Arts and Urban Planning of Paris.  The history of decorative arts was all about French periods of design as they related to political and social context.

Ex. of Decorative Arts Study:  French armchairs from earliest kings to present, tapestries, history of bone china to Limoges, quimper, motifs like folle nappe (folded napkin), swags, boulle dressers, etc. etc. etc. Basically, everything you wanted to know about antiques and roots of interior design.

Ex. of Urban Planning Study:  from Roman catacombs below Notre Dame to Haussmann’s Boulevards. About halfway through the trip, I lost my carte d’orange and didn’t want to buy another. So, I walked these Avenues and experienced Haussmann’s Paris on foot. As well, the running allowed me to experience many parts of the city within a reasonable 6 mile distance from city core.]

Class at 4:00 to 5:30-Tea.

Cindy & I planned trip ’til dinner.

[we were all getting our groups together to travel the last two weeks of the summer in August after we were through with our school in Paris. Cindy Bean, who I knew from the Theta House, and I were going to Madrid, Toledo, Barcelona, and a beach town called Blanes in Spain].

Dinner is at 8:00 & is a costume party!!  We have a present for Jeannie, the bus driver!

[he was the sweetest man and put up with us. He also seemed to drink quite a bit of wine in our picnics along the road as I remember back. At the time when we were in high school, this was common practice. Drinking and driving, that is. But as I reflect, he was in a position to be responsible for a whole busload of American college students. Again, liability issues, especially in France at that time, were not an issue].

I have a new name given to me from the cook’s helper.  It is mouilleté or something like that. The word is German for “a little mouse.”

[I think I am confused here and couldn’t remember what he’d said.  The German word for little mouse is “mausa” and the translation for mouilleté is a) soldier or b) finger of bread eaten with a boiled egg.  Maybe I was feeling militantly angry with all this rain].

Costume party was a riot.

All different kinds of people in this group, all dressed up, all drinking & going out! I wished Marthe or mom or Robb or someone to be here that would see the humor in this situation!

[I am not a fraction as much fun as I would be now in this situation, very cautious. I don’t know why, because I was pretty wild in high school. I think it was just an internal safety thing for me being around people where I knew nothing about anyone’s background, family, especially with all the alcohol, probably good my binge drinking shoes had for the most part been hung up.]

I wore my green putter pants with green cotton sweater & leaves on my head.  I wore a sign that said “haricot vert.”  There was a punk rocker & a hunchback, a Dolly Parton, homosexual in drag (the bartender at the Auberge).

Amy was a hula girl, Ginna-Liza Minnelli [Getto-Kappa], & Cindy [Bean-Theta]-a Heidi.

Hank wore a BOZO wig and danced with all the girls and put his hands clear on their ASSES!  I couldn’t believe it.  Of course, they let him but he is married w/ 2 little kids!




le sketch du jour: nude Frenchman, le lac de montriond, lady in nickers, Annecy. June 25 & 26, 1980.

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Paula: "Excusez-moi." nude Frenchman: "Bon."

I think I forgot something in my sketch, must have blocked it out of my mind.

I remember being a bit shocked. But, I didn’t want to seem rude, so I just proceeded to the shower.

I wonder if I left on my shorts? Like when we used to wear shorts under our dresses so we could play on the jungle gym without the boys seeing our underpants. And yes, in the Graves family we called them underpants, not panties.  Sorry to all those boys without sisters who can’t imagine girls using such a utilitarian word.

Wed. June 25, 1980.

woke up late-breakfast.


Ran at 11:00 (3 miles)- shower*

*there is a new guy here with a big Afro hairdo. encountered him NUDE doing his wash when I headed into the shower room today! I said “excusez-moi” & he just smiled and said, “bon.”

Went to town, bought socks.

[the cold is really starting to get to me. this is when I adopted my european look of wearing knee high socks with sandals which continued with short socks well into my twenties. this was not the norm at that time as it is now.]

At 5:00, had tea & chocolate.

5:30- went to Le Lac Montriond-green lake in the mountains made from melted ice that falls from Alps. The melted ice makes the water green.

Went higher up to a little tiny mountain town, Chamonix.  Goats run around all over in hills and on the roof of this house with a dog that tends them. Very cold-about freezing. [my handwriting is very shaky here, so I must also be freezing]

Snow and tops of the Alps can be seen.  Few houses, but those there are built into the ground.

dinner/potage, pork chops, creamed potatoes, salade verte, apple tarte patisserie

June 26, 1980.

Woke at 10:00!! Raining per usual.

Decided to run to Le Lac Montriond.

I was lost (went wrong way) for about 2-1/2-3 miles, so by the time I had returned, I’d run a little over 10 miles.

Met a woman on the way up to the lake who was darling!  She said “Vous êtes jeune et bronzée et de bonne santé” or something like that (young, brown & healthy).  She asked if I was running to the lake and if I was staying at the Auberge.  She was from Paris & knew the owners of the Auberge. Very cute-was about 55 and had on knickers & knee socks & sweater & hiking boots.

Arrived back at Auberge just in time to catch the bus leaving for Annecy.  Stopped to picnic en route (roast pork, baguettes, tomatoes, oranges, chips).


Raining in Annecy, but it is a really neat town.  It is on a lake and there is a big, long stretch of park, grass, flowers, benches. We sat in a café ’til it quit pouring & then walked around.

The women there were really pretty. It really was noticeable-much more beautiful than in the smaller towns.

There was a cute little bakery with a big crowd around it that smelled heavenly!!  We walked by it & waited to see what the crowd was (mostly Parisians) for.  A fresh, hot batch of little pie-like things had just finished baking & the people were waiting for a warm one.  Nixie bought one, and they were like little cheesy-eggy quiches.

Things like that, I’m really going to miss.

Returned to Morzine.

Cous-cous for dinner-I can take it or leave it-


chicken w/ vegetables

grit-like stuff