Live Long and Prosper

Frosted 

Magical 

Wings

Anita (waving) posted a great series of images on a day that a great man passed. Leonard Nemoy was a big part of my life growing up, if he was a big part of your life -then we are sisters and brothers sharing a connect that is phenomenal.

We grew up with a man that made us think logically. In a world where nuclear annihilation was possible, wars were a regular occurrence, his character, Spock gave us a safe escape.

I created the art from a photo of ice. When I saw the elongated curve of the ice, I thought a nice pair of ice wings could be made. I am settling into the angels. They are my muse. They connect me and move me. 

This was posted as a tribute on another page. Leonard Nemoy was discussing the hand symbol, he made in greeting, it was a blessing. 

These words are a blessing. I grew up with Dr. Austin as my minister, in Savannah GA. (First Baptist Church- Chippewa Square) At the end of every sermon he was stand in the back, at the narthex and say this prayer. When I read it I thought of a great man. (Waving at Julie)

Numbers 6:24-26

May the Lord bless you and keep you; May the Lord make his face to shine upon you, and be gracious to you; May the Lord lift up his countenance upon you, and give you peace. 

Rest in Divine Serenity Leonard Nemoy.

My Sweet Dear friends: Live Long and Prosper.  (hugging you tight)

Chasing after art!!

Making maquettes for art. 

Thank you John Fick, for letting me borrow this book!!! I have been reading and reading before heading to Otto Frei jewelry store!! 

Woooooohooooo!!!

The book is about chasing. I love that that word has two magnificent meanings. If we Love something we chase after it, perhaps our feet are leaving marks, much like small dents into copper, into the earth.

When we are passionate, our energy chases and runs toward what our soul has been hungry for. 

Usually I put this upon other people. (Hanging my chin on my chest) Sadly, I admit, I think I was looking for art out of love from other people.

Life, self actualization, is a one man show, when YOU are finally happy with you.  THEN the real magic begins!!
(Grinning)

I can’t be anything for anybody else right now, last night was the first night I slept ALL the way through the night. It takes time for the soul to center into itself. Yesterday I spent hours playing with poster board and making me.

I spoke with David Duskin who gave me time to discuss my art, all the symbols and what they mean to me, all the relationships with God and spirit and climbing stairs up and up… We discussed my fathers fish nets, how he would weave them, and how I ran to wood shop on Sunday to create shuttles to start weaving my own nets.

Thank you David for your time. It is rare to have time from an instructor. You blessed me with your wisdom. I was changed by that conversation. I have ladders to God, glass needles weaving nets and fish women swimming in my heart.

I haven’t forgotten anybody out there, in fact, I have to say you are closer to me now—now that I am focusing on my art, each one of you is in my art, every hammer stroke that textures the cross hatch is your touch, your smile, your raised eyebrow.

You go find your passion, you go and do what makes you incredibly happy!! 

CHASE after your love!!

Soaring!

Roaring!

Wooohooooooo!!!

You don't tug on Superman's cape.

Photograph taken by Judith Parsons

“You don’t tug on Superman’s cape.” About to fall asleep and this song starts playing in my head. Hmmm.  A great line from one of Jim Croce’s songs. 

This connected me to a friend whose favorite saying is: “Use your superpowers for good.” 

use my incredible word power to write about today. 

Not that it is any life changing event. It is just that fact that God puts us at a certain place at a certain time, and we really aren’t aware of how it is helping us at the moment.

This morning started off late. I decided to spiffy up the place, just in case I wanted to show a friend my humble abode. And that friend was running late, so I had time to catch up with friends as I waited outside the library.

I found out someone had passed, and it saddened me horribly. And if my friend had been on time then I would not have been able to catch up. 

As we were waiting for the next shuttle the students next to us pointed out the cool moon. It was then I took the photo you see. 

We finally met up and got on the school shuttle, when the driver tells us we have to catch the next shuttle. Lordy mercy. We were never going to get to where we needed to go!

When we finally are able to get upon the shuttle we desire to be on. We meet Dale (waving) Who informs us that the event we think we are going to attend isn’t until next week. We started laughing. It was definitely one of those days. 

It seems Dale got into an accident, that put her on the shuttle that we got on. It was synchronicity, chance, fate? It was pure luck! What ever you call it- it made us all very happy.

I was able to reconnect to a cherished friend, Manpreet and I had time to work on jewelry.

We are blessed to live this life.To be alive as our old fashioned borders of separations slowly fade. Eventually we WILL be one world, one people connected and caring for one another.

Until then, trust in miracles. 

Change-Art- Black cats

Photo and art created by Judith Parsons 2015

Today’s blog brought to you by change…and Harry the black cat.

Yesterday I walked into the General Bead store and there was the owner, regale and majestic. It was a omen that I was in the right place.

The omen came in the shape of a huge black furry cat. The mysterious black cat brought intuitive whispers of fabulous things to come. That cat was the guardian and knower of secrets. In a flash of seeing that cat I was seeing my fears and self-deceptions.

THAT cat could have been my Harry. We owned a cat- JUST like that one, same blasé attitude, emitting the same vibes: “I will give you attention when I feel like it.” It is unsettling to see a cat that looks exactly like one that has passed on. And yet it was comforting in a teary eyed way.

I gulped back the tears and “George” the cat, looked up at me and blinked and then squinted his eyes like he understood. 

It was a God moment.

We all know God moments. We gasp at the truths of them, not wanting to see the truth. Because the truth is a sword right out of the forge fire, it cauterizes the wound. We need to stop the bleeding. Stop the hurt, try to heal.

Seeing Harry/George was a sign I was back on track. Being an artist is brutal, because we are ALWAYS on. The mind goes at a million miles an hour, EVERYTHING is art. 

Cognitive development is based on previous knowledge. Like building blocks we build and build, and every now and again we need to start over. Art is that way. Life is that way. Even Love is that way.

I am focusing 100 percent upon my art. I can not give anything else my time right now. I am owning my stuff. I apologize Anita. (hugs) I will write, because I can’t help it. Maybe it is my ego. Maybe all artist have huge fricken egos. I am not looking for love from anything or anyone except myself now. My art is Harry, the metal sword, the clay masks and glass wings.

They ALL are pushing and pulling at me—it is a busy place in my head. They look up at me, like Harry and squint and blink —saying: “There is so much you do not know…” 

Trusting in change.

Lost Sail! Lost Sail! Lost Sail!

Photo by Brian Schmidt
Art by Judith Parsons and 5th grade students at
Folsom Elementary  (2010?)

Todays blog has two main purposes: to reflect upon a great piece of art and to ask you all to help me locate it!!

I feel a terrible sense of loss as I have lost a painted sail. How can someone loose something -so dang big? I know right???!!!

Four or five years ago a group of students and I painted a sail from my 30 foot sail boat.

It was a glorious project for us to do! We played Adele upon the cd player, they had to leave their shoes at the door and they walked carefully upon the sail, and helped me paint it. It took almost a month for 75 students and I to paint that incredible canvas.

I hoped to one day place it upon a sail boat, or at least use it at a art school I plan to have one day. I can imagine it hanging from a cathedral ceiling- draping down with sun light filtering through it.

When I look back upon the experience…It truly was an amazing God event. Simply because it was a miracle we pulled it off. The principal at the school, Lesa Bodner is an incredible woman! She let me do crazy blue dog projects with plaster and paint that huge sail. I have to admit—Folsom was the BEST experience of my life!!

(Going back to graduate school is nipping upon its heels...But thats another story--back to the sail)

The fifth graders gave back to me 100 times the energy I gave to them!! The staff Melanie and Jan were always smiling and ready to assist!! Thank you all!!

I moved my stuff to Savannah, Georgia. It was in my dad’s house, and now the house is sold, and I am not sure what the heck happened. The sequence of events is cloudy. 

However, the end result is that my heart aches. I lost glass wings, and a bronze drum ring because I left them in a storage that my ex decided not to keep up the payments on. We we own our s_it-then my lesson would be to not ever leave stuff in storage. Thats another story too.
Now, I have lost a sail.

Honestly, I have lost lots of things, and I keep telling myself they are just material things. (sighing) Lately I have been thinking about the past. In my minds eye, I am high up, sitting with feet dangling over the edge and you are there. You, the past. 

You smile at me, I smile at you, we caress one another’s faces, tears stream down our cheeks because we are happy to see one another and yet we do not know if we will ever see one another again.

I learned much from you, My Dear Past. I hope to see you again. Because, YOU taught me more than I ever taught you. I would love to give you a big old hug, (gulping) and THANK you for your magnificent lessons.

 However, IF you see a sail that looks like this…if it is on a sail boat, or hung in a restaurant, let me know. Please. So I can go to that person and ask for it back. Maybe I will trade some art for it. Who knows.

Metal Queen

Metal work takes stamina and endurance. It takes an “I CAN” attitude and personality of determination. Someone who works in metal is definitely a person who carries through on her promise. I am talking the talk and walking the walk.

Metal people mean business.

It takes planning, it takes thinking outside of the box, it takes a; “I am King/Queen of all artist materials.”

What makes me the judge of artist? How can I know this? A good question you ask. You see I grew up working with wood. Then moved to clay. I thought clay was the end all and be all. Clay SHE is a woman and she needs patience. And glass I have worked with glass and glass needs precision. But metal, it takes fricking brute strength and deeeeeetermination!!!

As  child, oooooh how silly I was, I thought wood was the ultimate challenge. I would draw a curve, use the jigsaw, then sand it. Sooo happy with my bulls-eye target piece of wood. I thought it took soooooo much time. 

That was then. Now, (chuckling) I cut the metal with the metal band saw use grinders to take the metal down to exactly the precise line and it is an sparky event. Bending metal to a curve requires a tool, as John Fisk says. (waving) You make metal tools to assist in the process. You just do. It is a process that make me stronger and stronger. And every Friday night when I leave that dang building I am BEAT up, I was dragging my feet soooo slow that a homeless person said, “You are loved, never give up.”

I thanked him and tears rolled down my cheeks. My back was screaming at me, my legs felt like lead. I could only take small baby steps and I was taking them S-L-O-W.

I am writing this because I needed a few pieces of wood to set under a tool I was making in metal, I put the wood in the saw and pushed the wood and thought it was cutting butter with a hot knife. Maybe I should go back and take a wood class, so I can create magical art in another medium.

(smiling sigh)

On a positive note my biceps look great. Metal art MAKES you stronger!!

Wooohooooooo!!! You want to be strong? Go back to art school!! DO sculpture!!

Oh on the metal queen idea…I am not the queen yet, but give me another year at this, and honey, you will see a transformed woman!! (grinning)

Tunnel Love

Art created especially FOR this blog
By Judith Parsons Art

I walk through the stockton tunnel every now and again and the acoustics are
M-A-R-V-E-L-O-U-S!

I first sang in the tunnel walking home with Anita, after we saw the movie, “Into the woods.” Yep, I was one of those silly goofy grown-ups moved by a lovely tale of magic.

Then the other night I entered into the tunnel and no one was about. It was just me and the walls to resonate sound. So I started singing the notes from a part of 

Rimsky-Korsakov: Scheherazade / Gergiev · Vienna Philharmonic · Salzburg Festival 2005

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SQNymNaTr-Y
Go here!

I was singing the notes, going higher and higher and louder and louder. It was a chill bump moment. As I was leaving the tunnel a young girl turned and clapped for me.

It made my night!!

I laughed out loud at her clapping!

Silky lace against my thigh

Photo taken  and composition created by Judith Parsons.

I was cleaning out my room, doing an early spring cleaning when I came across an old lace half slip. 

The first thing I thought of was: “Oooooo I can cut the lace off and make texture in my jewelry.” I sat holding the lace part in hand -with scissors at the ready.

In the olden days they were called petticoats. Well, thats what we called them in our household. However, it was purely sentimental, bringing the slip with me to San Francisco.

I suppose, now, it means more than ever. I would wear it when I dressed up. I didn’t dress up for fancy dates, my ex-husband and I never really did do much. We never had money. We were always spending it on other things. So the slip was for church mostly.

Maybe thats why dressing up for church is an important event. The dressing up part, gives us a chance to feel a bit prettier. It felt good to have the silk against my thigh. No one knew what I wore under my skirt, it could have been cotton with no lace. 

I can see the different skirts I wore over the years in my imagination. I can’t help but laugh at the long braided wet hair pulled back into a bun, like my mother did, because we were always late for church. And I imagine she pulled her hair back because she was doing the same thing I did, trying to get the kids dressed and out the door. Then she had 2 minutes to shower— throw on a slip, skirt, shirt and run out the door.

Wow. Looking back life was a hurried blur with little children. All these thoughts because of a silk slip.

Now, that I am at school, I give it my best when I walk out the door. I am a graduate student who embraces the idea that I AM art. I usually wear my grandmother’s silver bracelet, ear rings and artsy clothing. No longer do I walk out the door in painted messy jeans. Don’t get me wrong, I do have clothes I weld in. And I am a pretty down to earth kind of woman. 

I will consider purchasing a skirt, to go along with the slip. (grinning) Usually I wear slacks, but, (sighing) my thigh would like that secret silky feeling.

I will let you know!
(chuckling at self)

Lace Valentine

I am throwing away a bunch of old mess. I came across this half slip. I am not even sure “slip” is the word for what it is. It is like petticoat junction. Who in the world even remembers what a petticoat is? 

Off track—sorry…
Back to the main thread.

Tonight, I am trying to find all the puzzle pieces so I can honor a professor. (sighing) I admit I have not been the most organized person, however, graduate studies is all about “honoring the work” so I have become more tolerant of myself.

I am learning to throw mess away, I am learning to organize my world. I LOVE being more organized!

I am going to cut the lace OFF—to use as art. YEP—I am totally an artist now. The design of the lace- the texture- is more important than the slip...Who cares if you can see through my skirt...really who cares?
Singing and dancing through life- my head in the clouds--my feet stepping through life in my own Mardi Gras drumming dance! 

(sighing and smiling)
For most of my life I was the little drummer walking around in my own little swirling dyslexic bubble. I had no idea that whole “thing” is another writing. I just bounced off of people, finding them, trusting in the great “UNKNOWN” to somehow connect me to LOVES—to lights- - that made me feel like I was a part of a “LIGHT TRIBE”

Art is anything that is creative. ART is flowing. Here with words, we are ALL ART. Think about how miraculous that is. Stop.

Here your heart?

It is my heart.

We are BOTH the same!!

Heart- ART!!

ART is that little different drummer.

Let us all become the beat of Love and Laughter..of Lingering touches..of LEARNING to love!!
Happy V- day!
I love you all!

Heart fish

One heart fish...

Have a blessed day!

Soaring
Swimming
Singing

beside you

Heart Story

Todays words are inspired by Love. This being the week of Valentine’s, there are hearts all over San Francisco. And the heart art created by yours truly has a story behind it.

The heart is a glorious shiny red wonderful heart, it has lovely little glass hearts clued all over it! Every time I walk by it I think- “Wow! Sooo pretty.” This time I stopped and took a photograph, with my telephone. Manpreet (waving) was with me. 

Every heart has its story, every love is sparked by a moment— of “ah ha”. I have learned a lot about love in my 54 years upon this earth.

I have learned that the best love, is a friendship love. The intimate sweaty sexy type of love is tricky. Perhaps one is not compatible, perhaps in that moment of incredibleness you realize it isn’t everything you want it to be. Or perhaps you find the perfect intimate love and don’t want to mess it up —because it was so dang good- well…nothing can compare.

So you see, love is a tricky slippery fish. Difficult to hold on to, to keep and to repeat. 

Perhaps THAT is the trick.
Just stop trying to hold it. 

Leave the palms open, then it swims gracefully up, lifting its wonderful head and tickles you with its tail.

Okay…Now I have to make a heart fish…(laughing) I will post it tomorrow…Heart fish art swimming by tomorrow!

Photographic eyes!

Art by Judith Parsons Art 2015

Last night was exquisite! I shared a meal with 3 other graduate fine artists. Jewelry designers and photographer. It was lovely to share a meal and glorious talk about what we do. What makes one tick? How do the cogs turn in that complicated beautiful mind?

There was a moment of conversation when K (waving) mentioned his fear of loosing his eye sight. As a photographer this would certainly be a fear most of us don’t ever think about. We take the light that graces us every day for granted.

His eyes were opened as he told me his vulnerability. The lights from the room highlighted his eyes. There were 5 distinct dots of reflected light. It was a slow motion moment of incredible beauty. At that moment I felt his fear. I swallowed it down and said a prayer that he would see with vibrancy until his death.

We all looked at one another’s eyes at that moment. Noticing the light and how it shined from our eyes. It was a lovely silly incredible night of food and laughter!

Thank you Sweet friends!! I was really flying!!

May you find someone to share a meal with. Someone that makes you smile. And look into their eyes and see that reflection- of your love and light!

Soaring beside you all! Woooohooo!! Life is grand!!

Art Wild Wind Mom

Photo of me...Art by me...
My mother is me...I am my mother.

It isn’t a typical day in San Francisco, it is blustery and rainy. It is the kind of wind that wants your attention, and it will blow your umbrella inside out to make sure you know it has it.

I was walking home with my baseball cap on- my backpack (“ruck-sack” for you Irish folks) was wrapped with a plastic trash bag, so I wasn’t particularly worried about the rain. I saw people’s umbrellas ripped up and heard yelps as the pretty made-up folks cried out in despair. They were melting.

I slowed my pace and enjoyed the rain. You east coast folks, you take it for granted, it is a pest to you. It just won’t leave you alone. And then it gets angry and freezes upon you—showing you who really is boss.

In California, the folks walking in the rain were happy and giddy. It was surprisingly contagious!

I got home to my little room, my window is open -I plopped upon the side of my bed- looked up— and there was mom. (sighing) As I noticed mom in the reflection, the wind shook the window. It was as if “she” knew—I knew—-that she was finally me…I was finally her.

I turned to pick up the camera, she loved wearing V-neck shirts, though I don’t ever recall her wearing a man’s t-shirt. However, she had the same neck, same collar bone, same wide shoulders and breast. I sat and stared and tears ran down my cheeks, and I told her I was sorry I couldn’t afford to keep the old homestead. 

So. Life goes on. We blink, we drink, we cheer the wind—hells bells,  we do better than that—we f-ing RIDE the wind!! Ride that energy sweet loves!! Soaring beside you!

I love you wild wonderful facebookians!! 

Life hammers its lessons upon us.

Yesterday was a day beyond anything I have ever experienced. I met a friend who showed me how soft metal can be. 

I have been scared of metal, scared of controlling the heat. My heart beats a million miles an hour when I am handling molten hot lava metal. Yesterday, Robert showed me I didn’t need to be scared. He pulled out a million metal working tools and we took our time and we let the spirit move us.

(grinning)

It is heaven to be beside someone who is willing to share his knowledge. He was calm and centered and gracious. I can’t help but smile when I think about his knowledge, waiting for the student to come along and ask a ca-zillion questions.

We made a dragon fly and twisted metal, he showed me how to cold form copper, we cold formed and pressed metal hearts. 

He made a fabulous textured heart from beating on it. Think a minute about that. It is the hammering that creates the interest in the surface, that is exactly how life is. We start out all smooth and shiny and then life hammers its lessons upon us. Like copper it hardens us. Then with just the right amount of heat, the metal soften so it can be shaped into the designs we desire.

I took a chance, I didn’t have a clue what Robert would be like. It was a chance that paid off fabulously!! We have a million ideas of things to make!! THAT is being rich! THAT is what life is all about— learning to control the heat!

Thank you again Robert! I am stepping lighter and smiling brighter at the art waiting to be born!

Woooohooooooo!!!

Soaring with those metal wings!

A glorious day! We need to learn to be like metal, becoming stronger with each lesson hammered into us...then with just the right amount of warmth and compassion, we soften and become the art that we know we are!

Strongest link--You.

School started last week, and I have not had the energy nor time to really cook. I smiled as a huge tour bus with a fabulous photograph of a red tail hawk and that name, drove past. It was going to be a great day, because of that omen! (grinning)

I stopped into a great sandwich shop to pick up a bagel and coffee before class. Sitting outside of my art building was a rough looking dude. He had on a stylish wrap/coat that was a little tired and worn but all in all he seemed aware. He had a huge glass bottle of beer beside him.

He was just sitting comfortable smoking a cigarette. He didn’t have a cup out begging for money. And when I first passed him and smiled and wished him a good morning, he smiled and nodded.

Coming back to my building, I stood outside to drink my coffee and eat my bagel. Being from the south, I was taught- you never eat in front of someone, unless you have enough  to share. So I did.

He took half the sandwich and said it was hard to bite with no teeth. I then started pulling mine apart and suggested he do the same. He took a couple of bites and we talked.

I started out with we are all as strong as the weakest link. As soon as I said it I felt like I was preaching. So I followed up with, the fact that I drank way too much wine and wished I didn’t. As soon as I said that, I felt like an idiot. (sighing) He asked me when did I start drinking. When I was young it was legal to drink at 18. He nodded and explained it was what he did. I nodded and smiled. And told him to have a blessed day.

All day he stayed with me. You know that song, it was about God being a homeless person….gosh- what was that song? If God was one of us. His eyes were so bright. And he looked totally content.

And a friend of mine is having issues. And well, none of us should judge. Period. Just try and assist, so your heart feels good. But that person, who is dealing with his/her demons, HAS to deal with them. It is part of the learning we all have to do.

I learned around 50 to take responsibility for my actions and words. Some people just never ever get it. And you know what? It isn’t our fight to struggle with.

It is the hardest thing to do. Let someone fight their own battle. Even if that battle is with themselves.

Have a blessed day!.