Mania, Melancholy, and Making Stuff.

by admin

Fear turned out for a Saturday Afternoon.

Most of my life, if my selective memory works, I think I have been in a state of productive mania. I don’t remember the fits of rage, retaliation, or Indecision, for I HAD Purpose. I had a goal.

And, I do think this is most of the time, or at least MORE of the time. Or did, until I hit a rough patch, let’s just call it my 50s, soon thankfully to be at an end. In March, In Like a Lion, and let’s hope to reach 60 as the lamb of God I hope to be.

But lately, more chronically, I have had a problem feeling purpose. I’ve been working on edits for a second book, a Children’s Book that I’ve discovered is not really a children’s book at all. And, while I will hold onto Prairie Pug as a memoire, I do want to re-think if it even needs to be a book or might be better done in a blog. Mostly the writing is therapeutic for me. Sometimes, it’s much harder Work. Books, in print, or in digital, are not cheap to produce or market. They definitely aren’t a breadwinner.  So, I’l keep the ego and belt cinched, save that decision for another day.

I think I’m finally feeling and acknowledging the word “Depression.” Anxiety, though not of the sort I had when I resorted to taking xanax. This was while working at a large architectural firm in Wichita. It wasn’t the job, though I knew MY path wasn’t to even work long enough to be able to sit for the architectural exams, much less to pass them. My trail was to get Lacy through high school at Wichita Collegiate. And, we did do this, but taking xanax wasn’t worth it. After two years and about 4 months on xanax, I quit, and headed to Drugs (Off) Camp in Halstead. She was able to live with a dear family friend, Sally, for her senior year. I had been trying to live TWO lives, and not doing a good job at either. Mostly, I couldn’t go home to cook in the summers and fall, my main ranch responsibility after some “facilities management” with historic and domestic buildings. I’d ‘left my post’, though not in a deliberate way as I perhaps did later.

I still do not know the answer to that one. No big, life is hard sometimes! Was before that big (or)Deal got undone, too. No matter…

On the good side of Depression…I’ve

  • had a lot of sleep,
  • seem to have laid my scale on a bath mat and thought I’d lost 10 lbs but seem to have gained 10 instead,
  • and I have tried not to “consume”. That’s one way I falsely think I can “snap out of it!” as Cher would say.
  • And, I was with some women at a Meetup (GET OUT OF THE HOUSE REGARDLESS!) at Cafe de l’Art who made stuff.
  • And, more importantly, they shared about it, the details to the questions I love to ask, tediosity!

So, yesterday, I pulled out my beads, and followed my vow that I will NEVER buy one more art supply, at least in the bead department [except as needed to finish a piece, a fastener, etc.].

First, all I did was pull out the wire and “posts” and tools. Immediately and as was necessary, I felt compelled and stressed into seeing if I could remember how to “wire wrap” and if I still had the half-round pliers. I could and I did and it was “Good Enough”. FYI, a $28 brush-up is available at BEADholiday on Fort Lowell weekly, no problem. By then, I had started and I couldn’t wait. Messy ‘wire wrap’ had served most of my projects and so it would work “today.”

Stuff: so…nice and SHINY!


Then, I picked out my favorite silver charms and pieces, and decided that it didn’t matter if the posts were sterling silver (which does tarnish) or the inexpensive shiny ones I had. This post, technically I believe maybe called a “headpin,” is like a big straightpin with a head. You just put the bead on it, and make sure it’s big enough that it won’t slip off the other end. Then the other pieces can sit on top and you make the jump ring or loop at the top to string with the wire wrap. Then, you can either string the wire loop or add an open jump ring to this. It’s all super easy, one hour of a wire wrap class and you’re in business with help from their business. Crafts are good for the economy and MOI, on the other hand, then spend far less than in other forms of shopping.

So, doing something prevents the ‘living in idleness, mere busybodies, not doing any work’ that I can find even in the midst of trying to edit a book. We read about this in church today (2 Thessalonians 3:6-13). I’ll let you look it up if you care to, just because the interpretations are all unique, just see it as a positive impetus for me. I had decided I would make gifts for Christmas for new family members. I had a purpose for the act of making something. But it was the making it that made it therapeutic, the STARTING came before the purpose, for I had remembered the medicine. It was so meditative that for the first 1+ hour, I just organized, designed, and basically made a plan. It’s like when Jesus brought the hungry man to the older lady who was despondent. She got up, she made food and drink and she had purpose. My Jesus, I guess, being those ladies who shared about their projects.

Here are some of the thoughts and things about the necklace I’ll share that also relate:

  • RECYCLE. in using old and broken jewelry, it takes the artful act of former shopping to a new plane. Not “better” just a different place.
  • enamel bunny necklace and stamped cats bracelet


    • That’s what the little bunny is, and the cats. These were small, one enameled, one stamped, horizontally linked charm pieces that my mother had seen in antiques and thrifts stores that reminded her of the tiny jewelry I gravitated towards. They had broken, but I keep all of my broken jewelry, often because it’s hard to find places that will repair costume jewelry. Recycle.
      • Here’s one I’ll share… It’s at Oliver and Douglas in Wichita, across from Aspen Boutique.
      • Ayala Bar Chandelier Necklace, Solo


In the center, I used one of two “chandelier” earrings I’d kept after losing it’s mate. These are by the jewelry designer, Ayala Bar (Mosaic at Denver International supplied the name I couldn’t remember but the gift given to me was from Aspen Boutique, Wichita, don’t believe they still carry her work).

    • fetishes from something…either someone’s old fetish necklace (I didn’t have one) or maybe a Nancy Nichols Lopez creation that had broken…?

      Fetish from Nancy Nichols Lopez creation, also using recycled jewelry necklace, hers late 1970s.

  • The rest…some of those small crystals, turquoise, other mineral and plastic stuff I had!
  • last ingredient….meditative bliss.


  1. That’s the recipe for Depression. Acknowledge It.
  2. It may start with a class, something I MUCH prefer over utube though, not to discredit online learning. I need people…So…Get out of the House.
  3. Get around others who are doing something
  4. Create something, maybe for a reason, maybe just for fun if it sounds fun.
  5. The time will pass…the mood, too, shall pass.


My Future(s) InSecurity(ies): My Friends of Art

by admin

Imposing and Formidable, Art is actually a real lightweight when compared with anyone too heavy (in their critiques). Must be his experience with all that cocktail party conversation…he prefers to work the room.

Art is my friend,

He is BIG wheel.

Du-ane made him

Gave’em his spiel

And that was quiet

One place we can go

Yellow Rain
Red Heart
Musee Inside…
“We Love Art!”

To escape the rain

To escape the snow

Where ADD will not attack

Still and silence will fight back

So go inside

Well, ‘cept Tues(z)…then,

Students, Teachers are their ‘boos’


Staring Contest...Art Always Wins!

But, look! Just see

How Art Reacts…

Open-minded no attacks

He just listens

To their part

but Mostly, He Protects the Art.


My Future(s) InSecurity(ies): Uniforms.

by admin


Paula in Security Uniform by Kate Spade


Yes, believe it or not, I worked in Security. And, I must like uniforms because

  • I was a cheerleader AND in pep club. So, I rarely got to wear my own clothes to school. Sad, but then, not.
  • My school didn’t have a dress code or uniform. Midriffs were FINE in the 70s for the policemen in our parking lot were focused on students OD’ing on school property and had somewhat “locked it down” with open school and 6th-7th hour “off.” So, I’m getting to the fact that Carolyn Howard, our Sue Sylvester, MADE SURE that we had to wear
    • Lancer blue girdle swimming suits and
    • a red romper (not EVEN Our Colors!) for gym.
    • Point: Ms. Howard made sure there was nothing remotely SEXY about gym, even if the school administration (largely men) had larger problems to contain and were ignoring (? uh huh…) the teenage girls’ sexuality vis-a-vis stomach or chest visibility in dress code.
  • I worked at the pool in the summers, so I alternated two navy blue tank suit 6 days a week for 8 hours. I’m sure the guy lifeguards’ gym short swimming suits could walk on their own.

An excellent qualification: I have a history with uniforms.

So, it was nothing strange to be wearing this Security Uniform at a large ‘beaux arts’  museum in Kansas City, I won’t mention the name, at least for now.

Here is my uniform there. I’m not sure if this was really allowed, so just pretend I’ve blacked out any name of the museum. It’s backwards so that’s kind of encrypted.



This is how I looked on duty so you can see the whole gig. A gentleman I didn’t know took these pictures and later sent them to me. Nice or creepy? I’ll take nice, kept the pictures.

Was I really behind bars??

And as I’ve enjoyed all kinds of “social” uniforms such as:

  • kilts in college,
  • fair isle sweaters (but never buttoned up the back though I wanted to) at functions,
  • ballet flats in France.
  • NOTHING feels quite as good as a real uniform that (usually*) looks just like anyone else’s and carries with it a badge of authority.
    • *that is, I was reprimanded (nicely) about pushing the boundaries. And I’m sorry, the T-SHIRT advertising of the show that we wore on occasional Fridays was an XTRA large, so it really needed a WIDE BLACK BELT.

I hope to somehow have a future in Security Work, though my recent behavior may have eliminated me from the running. I’m making amends slowly, but

  • I can be trusted and
  • I am honest TO A FAULT and
  • I hope the period of “crazy” is coming to an end
    • or at least subsiding,
    • (or at least in presence of my fellow authorities in security and law enforcement.)

To this decade…’to Security and Beyond!’

We will get there.

Whatever Happened to Old Man Nick?

by admin

Whatever happened to old man nick?

Lost his bees and 

He Lost his..schtick

All those mags

the counter Bee’hind

Behind behind,

Oh, ladies oh so kind.


I stopped at red roof

Out here in A-ri-zona

To see any sign-a

That might now make it known-a

I remember the first time 

With grandfather Paul 

Grandamolie got candy

But I went with Tall



They called him

For he was quite thin

We gazed at the hives

Drones humming within. 


But, Whatever REALLY happened 

to old man nick?

Lost his bees and 

Lost his…

Pick of which heir


to bee

Next in line 

to charge the fee.

For next in TIME

In Roadside travel

Kids places to go…

Spray the gravel


But not here cuz

Ain’t got no buzz

Few trips with gramps

no tales no fuzz

Hive Hut Still Standing

So why the relic?

There still standing

Strange red roof

Was so commanding

Why the bees

And candy corn?

Mixed in with it

You think some…

Poorrrr….nother coke

Just take your time…

Grandma’s shopping

Grandpa fine.

Go see hive

Wow, see THAT honey

Find the drone

And spend some money

(great selection)

What a rack

‘Hind the counter

More in back


Grandpa’s here!

( but keep sealed lips)

And first the bees

Some edu-tips

And so it was

The story ended

Historic credits

On property, lended?

I didn’t google

I didn’t ‘wik’ 

I just imagine

It happened so quick


When ‘ol man’ was

Starting to fail

Next of kin knew

Bees would bail

But oh so clever

He was, I see

Would he pay penance

To every bee?

That lost its job

Were they set free?


What really happened?

I’d better stop…

At these old haunts

These roads my jaunts


Still see red roofs

in states across

The Wild West

But where’s the boss?


Hit the lair, if you dare…

I could stop in

The place next door

I’ll be discreet

Won’t buy any poooorrr…

nnn’Nice items inside!’

And toys galore


You think funny pops 

Now test this out?

What an idea 

To carry about

Gets me to the next stop

Where I will get out.


And when I imagine

Kids running around

flipping switches 

Hearing sounds

It is a comfort

That  things don’t change

All that much

Just rearrange

And I will stop 

‘nother pic ‘nother state

And I’ll report, I won’t be late

Just ask directions

“Where’s the loo?”

Use the ladies 

Some candy too


And if they ask

Why I stopped there

I’ll be real casual

As I stand in the lair

‘New to Arizona’ 

‘My phones not stable’

‘You have strong wi fi’

Good fiber and cable

Wi Who Really Rules?

An’ in my mind

He sends me out back

I’d like to imagine

To the funny red shack

So altogether now

You’ve got the BUZZ

“It’s Not about stops

It’s about the FUZZ!”


So ‘Whatever happened to

‘Ol man nick’

Son lost his bees 

And he lost his schtick.

Without any bees

Well, there was no honey

Sugar or spice

And there was no money

To keep up the roof

So let’s inspect

A Cultural icon

It’s still erect!