a diamond in the rough

Roku rocks my world...

2011-08-30T20:13:00.007-04:00

Biggs and I have been in the market for one of those nifty Blu-ray players that can stream Netflix and Pandora and all that fun stuff since we were in the states. We were going to bring one back, but as always with trips stateside, there was little room in the suitcases and little money in the wallets at the end of the trip, so we figured we could find one on the rock without having to dish our significantly more cash-ola than our stateside friends. I looked around and found some acceptable options, so we set out yesterday, on our day off and after doing day off chores, in search of the magic machine that would bring streaming movies to our TV, so we could cut out the nights spent staring at my tiny laptop screen, glued to episode after episode of LOST, or movie, or whatever.

Well, we found something WAY COOLER than Blu-ray, at least as far as I am concerned. We already have a DVD player at the house, a decently fancy one that hooks up to iPods and the like, so we didn't really need something that played discs. We found Roku.

Meet Roku:Wicked cute eh?

Roku looked like exactly what we needed, and was about $50 less than buying a blu-ray player with the whole streaming package thing. The box was only about 7"x7"x2", but we were both thoroughly impressed when we pulled Roku out of the box and found it to be even smaller than expected, like the size of a large cell phone or small remote control. Actually, I think Roku's remote control is larger, or about the same size as it is. Ha!

So Roku is a HUGE hit, despite a small snafu on the install, all is working and streaming beautifully now. We're beyond excited about the new addition to the entertainment system. Netflix streams beautifully, and Pandora works like a charm. It's definitely the best $90 I've spent in awhile! Roku rocks!

The Best Birthday EVER!

2011-08-11T16:02:00.003-04:00

Funny that my last post was about getting old, and here I am reporting on my birthday which was over a month ago. It was, however, the best birthday ever!

31 seemed to me like a boring age, an “invisible” age for some reason. Turning 21 is a big deal, 30 is a big deal, but 31? Boring, it is an age that seemingly doesn’t exist, sort of like buildings that don’t have a 13th floor, or restaurants that skip a table number on their floor plan. These things “should” be there, but they aren’t. That is how I feel about 31.

That said, my 31st birthday was the best one I can remember. I had no plans and no idea what I wanted to do, though I did long for an awesomely special day, since my 30th was far from what I had hoped. The day came and after all that June had thrown at me and Biggs, I was exhausted, physically and emotionally, and wanted nothing more than to have a quiet day to relax and spend time with him. I had tried to find friends to come out to dinner with me the night before the big day, but no one was available, and of course Biggs was working. So I set out to have a glass of wine by myself at the Galleon and wait for him to get off work. A couple of friends were there, so I had some nice company and I even had some real life song writers play me “Happy Birthday” on the piano and sing to me at midnight. We probably stayed out a little later than necessary, but that allowed us to sleep in a bit the next morning, on my actual birthday.

Our plans were not terribly exciting, but I had wanted a nice lunch out on the North Shore, so we packed some bags, put on swimsuits and headed out that way. We grabbed a cold beer on the way out to soothe our hangovers and ended up at Rowdy Joe’s, still a little groggy, and hungry! After a yummy lunch, delicious cocktails and good conversation with the bartender (who was from Boston or thereabouts), we had perked up a bit and decided to continue our trek, finding another little spot for a drink along our North Shore crawl. I suggested eat@Cane Bay, but Biggs convinced me that we should go out to Carambola instead, because they made the best Bushwhackers, and had a nice view from their bar terrace. I agreed, so we shuffled out further westward on the North Shore, to the Carambola Beach Resort.

We got those frosty, tasty drinks we had envisioned and sat down at a table overlooking the beach, the same one we had sat at with our friends after hiking to the tide pools many months before. Biggs excused himself to go to the bathroom (or so he said) and returned, asking me what I wanted to do next. I was happy, content and relaxed by that point, but had no idea what to do next, or any future thoughts for that matter. He smiled and placed a hotel room key card on the table in front of me, saying, “why don’t we go check out our room?”

Onlookers must have thought he put a big sparkly diamond in front of me, because I gasped and beamed and laughed and even cried a little. I jumped up and hugged and kissed the man, I was completely surprised and absolutely floored. It was one of the coolest things anyone had ever done for me. It made my entire day, month and probably year.

Our room was gorgeous, and Biggs had more surprises in store, a bottle of champagne and a nice bottle of red wine. We drank the champagne, enjoying the comforts of our luxurious little top-floor beach bungalow as the sun went down. Deciding to go out for an evening cocktail, we headed back to have our drink at eat@Cane Bay. We knew lots of people at the bar, and we drank and chatted, settling on having a little snack before heading back to the hotel, most likely to order room service. Chef Sean was in the kitchen, so we asked the bartender to have Sean send us something he thought we would enjoy. Everything that came out was just perfect, some food shots, and small samples of some other dishes he had been playing with. Everything was perfect, and just what we needed.

After our long, relaxing and all around perfect day, we retired to the hotel room, where we slept better than we had all month. I really am the luckiest girl in the world, on my birthday and everyday!

Getting Old (er)

2011-05-11T20:31:00.000-04:00

Yes, it is true, I am getting old(er)... errr something.

Yesterday I found myself squinting at my web browser and becoming increasingly frustrated by how difficult it was to read the page text. I had to increase the zoom settings on my computer! I was getting headachy, my eyes were getting sore and aching. This has actually happened quite frequently lately, but I was sure that my eyes were just, tired or I needed to change my contacts, or there was dust/ pollen/ ash/ soot in the air etc... My eyesight couldn't be getting worse!? My vision has certainly degenerated over the years thanks to plenty of abuse from using various magnification tools on a daily basis and jumping from one to the other, and doing lots of computer work, and of course working with teeny-tiny jewelry parts, but this was more of a dramatic change than I have experienced. Oh well, I guess there is a price to pay for getting older and wiser!

For the record, I wouldn't go back to my younger years for anything. It just keeps getting better! (Sadly I cannot say the same for my eyes...)

'Tis the season

2011-05-10T23:18:00.006-04:00

Seasons change, though for us here in the islands, they change less dramatically than the US mainland and other parts of the world. It’s that time of year again, “season” is slowing and/ or coming to an end, tourist season that is. Wedding season is right around the corner and hurricane season follows shortly thereafter (I’m certain there is a joke in there somewhere, but I am too tired to put it together right now). There is also gongolo (Cruzan millipedes) season, mosquito season (some would argue that it is always mosquito season), mongoose season (no, not relating to hunting them), mango season, rainy season, dry season and I’m sure there are other island “seasons” that I am forgetting.

The end of season comes with many people coming and going, but mostly going. It happens every year and after surviving the other seasons, we will again be greeted with a crop of new, fresh, wandering souls who will find their ways to our little island in the sun, at the onset of another tourist season.

Season, and the long list of island events ended with the St. Croix Food and Wine Experience’s annual Taste of St. Croix. My liver, and most other body parts, are all breathing a sigh of relief. This was my third year attending Taste, and second in a row that I have been working for it. It was a lot of fun serving up awesome food and talking to people, seeing many friends I hadn’t seen in ages. Plus I got to get dressed up all pretty and drink lots of wine. The after parties weren’t as wild and fun as I remember, but Mr. Biggs was exhausted from long days and weeks of prep for the event. Best part? He placed second in both categories he entered, two of the most popular – therefore most competitive. I am beyond stoked for him!

Second place entree from the Galleon Restaurant; Citrus braised veal short ribs over a carrot ginger mousse, with preserved lemon and parsley salad, topped with a potato galette and finished with sherry gastrique.

Summer season will be dog hair season for the two of us, stay tuned to find out why…

St. Patrick's Day, Island Style

2011-04-20T22:47:00.006-04:00

St. Croix does St. Patrick’s day like no one else, it is literally the biggest Paddy’s Day celebration in the Caribbean. Everyone takes to the streets of Christiansted, on our quaint little tropical island, dressed in green and orange, and ready to party. Cruzans will not ever be accused of not knowing how to party. The parade, which generally falls on the Saturday before the holiday, came around this year on the Saturday after. Cruzans will also probably never be accused of consistency.

For years I worked on parade day, opening my shop despite making little money and dealing with drunk people for most of the day, but back then I was a workaholic, something I have been able to give up temporarily (for the record, lately I find myself feeling like I need to be doing MORE). Then I finally got smart and closed my shop for parade day, and began to join the crazy, drunken masses. A few years back I had a little too much fun the night before the parade and after waking up still drunk, I decided to nap parade day, and my horrid hangover, away. The year my friends Sarah and Clay got married, a wedding planned to coincide with that year’s St. Paddy’s “season”, I had an absolute blast at the parade (and the days that followed)! I vowed never to miss another one if I was on island. Last year I was unable to make it because of work obligations, but this year I made the parade and lots of great memories once again.

The motley crew (minus Biggs, behind the camera).

This year’s parade was a first for Mr. Biggs, so I was excited to experience the whole event with a newbie, plus my girlfriend and her husband were. Decked out in green and starting with beers we grabbed at the gas station on the way into town, we stopped to see a friend who offered us a ride in, so we wouldn’t have to worry about parking, or driving home after a day of island style fun. Then we hit the traditional Bacchus breakfast stop, where we had some food, drink and shots. So it began…

Me and Biggs

Irish car bombs and Jameson shots (and much, much more) followed as we hit the town for a long day of drunken debauchery. It was a great day, and we were home early thanks to starting early. Our ride was unavailable when we were ready to go, so we started stumbling our way towards where we had left our car at his house, and found a ride from another friend along the way (though much further into the trek than I would have liked).

The Cruzan St. Patrick’s Day Parade is one of my favorite island events, one of the many things I love about this place, my home.

That's My Cup of Tea

2011-03-24T21:35:00.002-04:00

Well, I have heard of messages in tea leaves, not that I claim to be an expert in the tea reading department, but my tea is telling me something too. Tonight, I was in need of a pearl of wisdom with which to quiet my ever overactive mind, which was racing due to too much time spent alone, too many bloody marys for lunch and flashbacks to a life less extraordinary. So I popped a mug of tea in the microwave and vowed not to look at my little message on the tea-tab until my beverage was good and ready. With anxious anticipation I wondered what my little Yogi Tea fortune would read as the microwave ticked away the seconds. Those two minutes held all the patience I had at this point in the day, and I promptly yanked the door open to reveal my prize:

I remembered not long ago finding yet another little tea bag tiding that I found poignant, and that I had captured it too on camera:

Well okay then, I’m getting the message, and it comes at an appropriate time. I’ve been questioning lots of things in my life again – not so much a surprise, I know. It’s another one of those introspective phases o’mine, always good for some interesting blogging content.

Grace. Contentment. Hmmm…

Grace brings contentment eh? I concur. My most recent tattoo (circa 2010) is a Sanskrit symbol meaning grace, chosen by and for me, to represent not only physical grace from years of dancing, but the way in which I have handled difficult situations in my life.

Contentment is something I crave, that feeling of comfort and ease with one’s self, life etc… The word itself invokes a peaceful feeling that settles around me. I’ve been restless lately, thinking about the future and all the things I want to do, to achieve and to create. It has been important and enlightening for me to realize that I can have a sense of contentment without having my life exactly the way I want it right.this.minute.

Life changes, sometimes more quickly and abruptly than one might enjoy, but we deal with it, roll with it, and hopefully come out of it all for the better, dancing through gracefully en route to contentment. I’m settling more and more into this new life of mine, and getting to the point where I am taking more control of the situations around me. I am starting to think more toward the future, to plan, dream and allow myself to have goals once again. I truly think I am coming out of the period of Saturn’s Return, and fully enjoying the new place I am in. The years past have prepared me for what I have most recently survived and experienced, and this is all a cycle that can, and surely will, be repeated, perhaps many times over.

Because everyday is special ♥

2011-02-22T18:31:00.002-05:00

Last week was Valentine’s Day, and for me that meant a long day, working a double between two jobs, both catering to the people who choose to make that day a special one for those they love. It is funny that I work in industries that put huge emphasis on holidays, the key special days of the year, but I chose to sell that without buying it. For me, it was just another day, a day on which I loved and appreciated the people in my life as I would on any other. Love is a beautiful thing, often a difficult thing, as I know quite well. I personally choose to make everyday special, and to show affection for those I hold dear all the time. I learned my lesson a long time ago that putting too much emphasis on one day in a person’s life can be disappointing at best, and devastating at worst.

I am fortunate to have wonderful people in my life, people I love, and a good man by my side every day. We started saying "happy everyday!!" to one another, as it is fitting for us both, and we truly act on that, loving one another and showing that all the time, making everyday count. I can look back to days spent together and enjoy having made the most out of them, whether the date was February 14 or any other. Imagine how much more loving the world would be if more people chose to do this! Love and positivity are infectious, and the air around us all would feel more powerful and beautiful if more of that power were consciously brought into every single day.
I’ve been feeling the love, giving and receiving, it is truly a beautiful thing.

"If nothing ever changed, there would be no butterflies."

2011-01-25T18:55:00.006-05:00

As the dust around me settles, and I fall into this new life of mine, I cannot help but look back and reflect on the upheaval of the past month. It is difficult to believe that only about a month ago, my life began to change so significantly and so quickly, and yet here I am, in such a vastly different, but wonderful place and feeling comfortable again in my skin and in my surroundings. I unpacked a few more bags and boxes last night, and found this card, a gift in one of our goody bags from one of the SOAR SPA retreats I have attended over the years.

Since receiving it, I have always kept it on my dresser or mirror, it has been with me at the last 4-5 places I have lived. I have always found the words so true in my life, which I have changed and re-designed many times over the course of the years. With each transition, I feel the words grow all the more true. All these changes, whether conscious, sub-conscious or an incredible combination of the two, have been leading me to the point I am at now, in this moment, and to the place I need to be in the future.

I suppose it is part of growing up and having the courage to do what is best for oneself, although there are many, many people who are afraid to be their authentic selves. It excites me to think about being this singular person with many, many facets (love the metaphor!). I have referred to it as a merging of different parts of me, I once thought that Nicole the dancer was completely separate from Nicole the jeweler, Nicole the artist, Nicole the social butterfly… But in fact, all those Nicoles, are in fact what make up the person I am. The more I realize that, the better I feel! I can be myself and do all the things I enjoy, because that is who I am. I feel like the luckiest girl in the world, as I always say, "I feel like I won the life lottery!", but the irony of it all, is that it isn’t through luck, but through conscious, deliberate efforts and acts that I am in this incredible place.

Wednesday, Island Style

2011-01-14T14:20:00.007-05:00

I'm taking time to enjoy the island again, something I enjoyed so much, those simple life pleasures. Wednesdays are the days the "family" usually has off together, so we all try to make plans to hang out and do fun, healthy things that don't involve drinking all day or going to bars. Last week, we hiked down to the tide pools over near Carambola on the northwest side of the island. It is a 2.7 mile hike each way and then there is some fairly intense climbing (at least for me!) over sharp wet rocks to get to the saltwater pools. It was a wonderful day! The hike was phenomenal and the air just right, not too hot and not too sunny. We took breaks along the way to drink water, take pictures and just take in the scenery. Once we arrived at our destination, we relaxed and went swimming in the pools after our hike down. I actually thought the water was freezing, and was the first one out! After our tide pool fun, cooled and refreshed, we headed back up and over the hills that would take us back to the Carambola Resort.
Happy hiker!

About halfway back, I stopped and looked to my left. With late afternoon sunlight filtering through the trees along the rainforest hike, about 3 dozen beautiful yellow butterflies, a "flutter" as I learned a group is called, fluttered and danced in a small clearing. I gasped and stopped everyone in their tracks, it was such an amazing moment. We all just stood there, in awe, admiring the beauty and splendor of nature. Truly magical!
The roommies

Once at Carambola, we changed clothes and opted to stop at the resort bar for a well deserved cocktail. The bar/ restaurant was empty! We were surprised, but were given exceptionally friendly and attentive service. Opting for a table out on the patio overlooking the ocean and the pool, most of us ordered frozen drinks, Banana Bushwhackers, Pina Coladas and Mudslides, delish!
The guys

Our next stop was Rowdy Joe's Northshore Eatery, where we drank incredible drinks, like the Rowdy's Dark & Stormy, ginger infused rum and house made root beer, and snacked on their always wonderful food. Our night was cut short with one of our friends not feeling well and needing to leave, so we all headed back east, making sure he was okay and ending the night with a few more cocktails and good conversation at home.

The Next Chapter

2011-01-12T16:15:00.004-05:00

Life is pretty damn good right now. I wake up every day to beautiful surroundings, beautiful people and just a truly beautiful life. I feel like I have to pinch myself, this is real, this is happening, this is really my life! Even a couple short months ago, I could never have imagined that my life would change and take off in the way it has. Though there have been very difficult times and struggles as of late, everything is now falling into place, and setting the stage for something incredible.

I have found gainful new employment, and the opportunity to get back to doing what I do best. It will also allow me time to dance, and really have outlets for my creativity once again. Through all that has happened recently, I found truth in what I have often said about myself, that I honestly believe I am equipped with the personal tools with which to deal with any situation life can throw my way. Experience and life lessons have made me the person I am today, and I am again confident in myself, and excited about what lies ahead.

As I sit here, on my porch, spectacular views of the infinite blue-green Caribbean waters and Buck Island excite my eyes, the green hills of the East End come alive as the winds blow through the grass and trees, making palm trees, bougainvillea and other lush island plants dance in the now late afternoon sun. Sugar birds visit the porch rail frequently, just to say hello, and today they came in threes. I watch kite surfers glide across the water, catch air and fly. It has been a Nicole day, quiet, relaxing, contemplative. How I have missed those, and missed Nicole.

During this transition I have had time to enjoy life again, go to the beach, read books, sit by the pool, make new friends and enjoy the company of others, of truly genuine people, once again. I’ve chosen the good life, chosen to be happy and chosen to live positive. The best part is? It gets even better, because it can and it will. All the wisdom and happiness of the Universe is really available to all of us, when and if we want it. The next chapter of my life is looking pretty amazing, sometimes I wonder how I got everything I wanted, and then I remember that I deserve it all.

New Year and New Beginnings

2011-01-04T18:58:00.003-05:00

This New Year, I did not make any resolutions. I doubt that I have kept many, if any, that I have made over the years anyhow. I did however go into 2011 knowing that this year would be different, very different. So many things have changed in my life, and I really and truly know that I am closer to being authentically me again than I have been in a long time. Perhaps part of this is that I am emerging from a long period of Saturn’s return, part is that I have finally made changes in my life that keep me true to my personal journey. It is not difficult to find the truth, when we listen to our inner selves. For too long I didn’t listen to myself, and all the while I was restless, anxious, and knew fully that I was not doing what was right for me.

I lost myself in 2010 for sure, without realizing what was happening, I strayed far from who I was, doing things I thought were right for me. I am not sure why this happens to me, I suppose part of it is the desire to try new things and have new experiences, and that I surely did. With 2011 here, I thought to myself how this year is really going to be a year of getting back to Nicole. I set those wheels in motion somewhere around mid-year in 2010, and it took me awhile to disentangle myself from some of the things I had become consumed by. Some choices I made late in 2010 caused incredible upheaval, in my life and the lives of many people around me, making for some decisions and changes that were beyond my control, but for the best. I went into the New Year free, fresh and open, and with a positive outlook for the year ahead. Looking back again, everything I did last year was so not me. Being the sensitive being I am, I was easily taken advantage of by people and situations, and was mostly unable or unwilling to see the truth. My good friend and roommate put it best, I think, when she said that everything that is going on now is the Universe’s way of flushing things out, and paving the way for the things that need to be, and allowing them to be.

Now, I am truly blessed. I have a wonderful group of people around me, who love me unconditionally, and again I am learning to accept love, as well as giving it. I feel like I belong and like I have a family, something I haven’t felt since I can remember. I live in a beautiful place, surrounded by natural beauty and much positivity. I believe in myself again, and my confidence and drive have paid off, as I embark again on another “renaissance of Nicole.” I remember a friend once telling me that I would be the type of person to recreate my life many times over, like a new work of art, and that I was blessed with the strength and courage to do just that.

I’m in exactly the place I need to be for right now, and I am beyond excited about the next chapter of my life. 2011 looks much more like Nicole.

and Everything Was Beautiful at the Ballet

2010-12-18T17:04:00.004-05:00

This evening I clipped my toenails in preparation for the Nutcracker, but for one of only a handful of times, my feet will be slipping into heels this evening, instead of those familiar pink satin shoes. My costume tonight, a full length dress instead of a tutu and my the make-up on my face will shine from the audience instead of center stage. Tonight I am going to the ballet.

It is a time of change for me, yet another renaissance as another part of myself works toward brilliance and yet another facet is uncovered. This is life, and it is hard but not necessarily tough.

But enough of the diamond metaphors...

I am off to see Pointe Dance Academy put on the Nutcracker, a show I have only not been a part of a couple of times in my life. I will go with new friends, good people and I am excited to see students I have danced alongside and taught, and see the next generations of dancers come into their own. There is nothing that compares to the dance world for me. The excitement builds for me, and I feel that pre-show nervous excitement. The stage of my life has changed significantly, and my audience and choreography has changed, but I am a dancer, and always will be. Tonight, I have the pleasure of being entertained by those who pursue the dreams I had, and live the life I dream.

Let the magic begin, it's Nutcracker time!

This is me, snow soloist in the Nutcracker from 2003 or so.

Server Issues

2010-10-27T23:19:00.010-04:00

The FAIL Blog has certainly become one of those current pop-culture phenomenons, in all its ridiculousness. Still, there is some pretty funny crap on there from time to time.

I couldn't help think of it when I tried to access a website today, entered my username and password and received the following error message:

FAIL.

But then:

You just can't find good help these days...

Maybe I should stop blogging so late at night.

Bliggity, Bloggity... BLOCK!

2010-10-26T15:54:00.007-04:00

Ctrl+A, Delete... Ctrl+A, Delete... Ctrl+A, Delete...

This is what the last half hour of my life has looked like, as I try to create something that might pass for interesting writing. Instead, I'll post some pictures from around SunDog House.
Fiona is getting bigger, slowly. I love this picture of her as she tries to get herself up onto the breakfast bar. The look in her eyes is a cross between determination and fear, as she ended up tumbling down off the bar backwards as I snapped this shot. Poor kitty!

It's not easy being green... this little frog lives in the bird bath just outside the kitchen window at SunDog House.

This orchid lives about two feet north west of the above amphibian. Apparently Buddha lives inside.

Costa Rica

2010-10-26T11:13:00.005-04:00

An impromptu mini-vacation to Costa Rica turned out to be a lot of fun, it is the second vacation in a handful of years that I was almost dragged on kicking and screaming - for different reasons.

Being one of the greenest countries on the planet and home to 6% of the world's population of animals, Costa Rica definitely sounded like a place I would absolutely love to visit. There were some minor (in my opinion) details that kept the trip from going off with out a hitch, but nothing that couldn't be, and wasn't, overcome. I realized, by default, that I actually speak fairly decent conversational Spanish. I guess living in the Caribbean for 16+ years, I have picked a few things like this up.

The highlight of the trip was an excursion provided by the Adventure Park and Hotel Vista Gulfo (where we should have stayed, instead of the more American, and less authentic, all-inclusive resort) which included riding horses up into the mountains where we embarked on a private (due to the off-season) canopy tour; we hiked through the lush jungle, flew through the treetops on the zip-lines, repelled down, and swam in, delicious freshwater waterfalls. For two people, we had four guides! All the while we were delighted with incredible views - not of birds and monkeys as we had hoped - but many interesting species all the same, mainly butterflies and fungi. There were more butterflies than I had seen anywhere, just incredible, colors and sizes I had only seen in pictures or documentaries. Unfortunately, taking my camera along was not recommeded, as it is fairly bulky and not waterproof, so the photos of that portion of the trip, reside solely in my mind. After our "adventures" in the jungle, we sat down to the most amazing meal I had in Costa Rica, and anywhere really, in a very long time.

I'll have to go back for sure, as there is much more I would like to see and do.

New Look: Third Time's the Charm?

2010-10-25T22:14:00.004-04:00

Here, we go again. I found a "diamond in the rough" photo I liked so much, I had to make it into a banner for the blog. I am still tweaking the minor details of the layout, but I am finally happy with the header (for now).

Me likey.

You likey?

New Look: Part II

2010-10-16T21:11:00.003-04:00

Okay, I took some time to customize. I am still deciding if I like it. What do you think?

New Look

2010-10-16T09:31:00.006-04:00

Well the TEMPORARY new blog layout is due to a minor problem I encountered while browsing customization options for this blog. I was feeling it was time for a change, I don't like that my blog looks so blah, and just like everyone else's.

During the looking around process, THIS:happened onto my keyboard and made some changes that were apparently un-doable.

So now I have a weird looking blog until I take the time to fix it.

on perfection

2010-10-09T01:14:00.007-04:00

I have happened upon some very inspiring blogs this week (see links below) that have to do with perfection, and mainly the ugly hold which it has on so many of us. With eerie but intriguing synchronicity, it is also something that I had been thinking about a lot personally, before these blogs found their way into my web browser. I have labeled myself a perfectionist many times, and there are many reasons I could cite for my perfectionism, but more importantly I think, are the things that trying to be perfect is holding me back from. For starters; happiness, confidence, success and feeling worthy of love.

So check out: The disease called "Perfection" and The CURE for "Perfection" from the Single Dad Laughing blog which has become one of my favorites, and the perfect protest which I found through a link on another artist's blog I visit.

A work related seminar this week made me think about perfection, as my work is, and always has been, one of the areas in my life in which I have sought perfection (although as I think about it, there aren't many areas in my life in which I haven't sought perfection). I was reminded of the realities, that no matter how "good" we are, sometimes we all have bad days – really, really bad days – it happens to everyone. Also, that no matter who we are, there are always going to be people that don’t like us for some reason or another – and that's okay. It has taken me most of my 30 years to come to terms with this, and it is still a struggle for me. When I hit those lows, or make mistakes, I too often feel like I am the only one who feels like a failure, as if everyone else around me handles their imperfection (for lack of a better word) gracefully while I am flailing about in mine. I've often thought what would have happened in my life if I had "been more perfect", or been as perfect as I wanted myself to be. I liked to blame the regrets I had in my life (and truly I don’t have many) on my lack of perfection, or not being good enough. I guess the irony of that statement is that I truly don't have many regrets about my life, because everything I have done and every choice – and mistake – I have made, have brought me to the place, and made me the person, I am today. And most of the time I like her, imperfect as she may be.

I caught parts of the movie "Good Will Hunting" on television the other day, and some of my all-time favorite movie quotes come from the conversations between Will and his therapist , Sean (played by Robin Williams). When talking about Will's relationship, Sean says, "You’re not perfect sport, and let me save you the suspense: this girl you met? She's not perfect either…." (I also love the "I gotta go see about a girl" line). I've learned the hard way what perfectionism and too-high expectations can do to a relationship, whether those expectations are on ourselves, or projected onto a partner.

I like the way perfection is portrayed by both of these bloggers, as an entity, an evil and negative one, which does nothing truly positive for us. Instead, perfection is a disease, an illness, a shield, a force keeping us from truly living, and being our authentic, genuine selves. It is easy to forget, when bombarded with media images of "perfect" people, "perfect" lives played out for us in movies in television, and "perfecting" products sold to us by advertisers, that everything that really matters, and everything we really need in order to be happy and content, is with us and in us, already. It is so easy to fall into that trap of feeling not good enough, and tell ourselves that we would just be happy IF…

These blog posts have been great reminders to me, that trying to be perfect is just not worth it, for so many reasons, and also a reminder that I'm not the only one out there who has been plagued with that feeling of not being enough and the perils of perfection.
So here is my picture, my "perfection protest", a lesson to remember every day and twice on those really, really bad ones!

Kids These Days

2010-10-01T09:47:00.006-04:00

Are we raising a generation of nincompoops? - KansasCity.com

This article via Google news caught my attention this morning. Even in my generation, somewhat on the cusp of the technology era, I often felt misplaced. I remember having a conversation about this years ago with my former business partner, during which he remarked that he remembered a time when very few households had the luxury of color television, and that we had progressed to a place where very few were now without a personal computer, today as I write this, few high school kids are without cellular phones - not back when I was in school! Though I grew up without a lot of money, my parents had purchased a computer for my sister and I before computers were really much to speak of. They were then not much more than word processing machines, with a single color display and a handful of programs. Instead of the basic solitaire games that are now on every desktop and laptop, we had hangman. I took a computer class in a summer program at my elementary school in 1986, today I couldn't tell you what they taught us in that class, but I was learning about computers as early as possible, thorough education was always my parents' goal for me.

Later, in high school and the years just after, I was heavily involved with my dance academy and with teaching the younger classes. I often had conversations with the directors and an older friend who was a school teacher about the students and their attitudes towards their education and life in general. It was amusing to have a "kids these days" conversation when I was not much older than the "kids" we were talking about. Still, the students had little drive to better themselves in our dance classes, which was consistent with my friend's experiences with her classes at school. They were unfocused, wanting to do everything; dance, sports, yearbook, drama, which resulted in their general lack of improvement at any one thing. Being a dancer, of course that was my focus, and one which, in order to be as good as I desired -and being a dancer - you want only to be the best, I had to be completely focused and dedicated. This carried through into everything I involved myself in, from hobbies to volunteer work to my career. Many of the other kids, even in my classes, didn't seem to care about bettering themselves, something I couldn't understand, how could they be satisfied with the half-assed effort they were putting forth, and in turn the half-assed performance that resulted? Was it simply lethargy? Did they think they were top-notch? Or did they care less about their performance and more about bragging rights? Looking back, I did want to do some of these other things when I was in school, and my mother didn't let me, for which I was at least disappointed at the time, but now see as a blessing. Perhaps some parents would argue that childhood is a time for kids to enjoy and do what they want before "real life" gets a hold of them, which I agree with to a point, but I believe this trend can scatter their focus and carry on into their later lives.

That is what struck me about the article, the next generations are clueless about so many things basic to so many of us who grew up without computer spell check, cell phones and cars with automatic everything (stick shift anyone?). I was brought up to live frugally, as much for earth preservation as for financial reasons, and this taught me to use my resources (mind over iPhone) to get things accomplished. This has made me a very good business woman, as I was able to minimize in order to optimize assets, and DIY rather than outsource. Even fancy programs for the computer that do this-or-that, I built myself with a general knowledge of simple programs. Rather than spend another $700 for software that builds websites, I open up notepad and speak a language full of symbols like this: {} < > / ::

There are exceptions to the rule, and I always find it so refreshing to uncover them, but I am so frustrated and disappointed to see these young people who have grown up to be so helpless in many situations (and cannot use the correct your or you're). I suppose they are a product of the current state of society, but what is the cost of continuing to follow this trend?

More of Eat, Pray, Love

2010-09-30T15:22:00.008-04:00

So I went to see Eat, Pray, Love on the big screen, and as expected, it didn't do the book justice. Of course I was prepared for that, as movies seldom compare to the books on which they are based, and with my vivid imagination, my own personal Eat, Pray, Love movie, the one I conjured up in my head while reading and re-reading the book, looked far different than the one I saw at the movie theater. Even so, it was an enjoyable and entertaining show. I hadn't been to see a movie in a movie theater since the first Sex and the City movie came out, and that one I attended with a group of women, what a cliché! In the same fashion, this movie was attended by groups of women, with only 3 or 4 men in the theater – what brave souls! Unlike Sex and the City, this one provoked less emotion, although there was a part that so closely mirrored something in my life that I did get a bit choked up. Actually, many pieces of the EPL book were very similar to my own experiences over the past 6-7 years, but those I was prepared to see before my eyes. The part that got me this time, was where Hollywood took some liberties and changed/ over-dramatized a certain part, and it did smack me in the face with a bit of unprecedented déjà vu.

Probably one mistake I made was going to see this movie so soon after a re-read of the book. Instead of watching and enjoying as the scenes played out in front of me, I found myself trying to predict what would happen next, and often being disappointed when certain parts were left out. I am such a stickler for rules and consistency, which makes me often feel boring and constricting. This was certainly a distraction from just watching the damn movie, as were the Spanish subtitles, but hey, I did learn some new Spanish phrases, "Me gusta".

Overall, I did enjoy the movie; Julia Roberts did as good a job as was probably possible. I of course pictured Liz Gilbert as, well, Liz Gilbert, since her photo is found in several of her books. I thought the casting overall was good, as was the acting, but it is still difficult to portray such an eventful year in someone’s life, in a two hour movie. But hey, I am no movie critic, just a girl who would recommend the book before the movie anytime. I think the soundtrack is pretty groovy too.As good a time as any to reveal one of my favorite new possessions, thanks to the new Mrs. Marlowe Miller. All the wedding attendants got a bag of goodies, including these mugs, which fit the color theme of the big day. We christened them all with Chardonnay on the day of, and now I find myself constantly washing mine, as it is the only thing I really want to drink out of.

Weddings, Chasing Rainbows and Eat, Pray, Love

2010-09-21T16:42:00.008-04:00

My "summer vacation" has come and gone. I'm just back from a trip to South Carolina to get one of my dear [former] St. Croix friends married. She asked me months ago if I would be a bridesmaid in her wedding, and though for awhile I did not think I was going to make it, I found my way there and joined her and her family and friends in celebrating her very special day.

The wedding was beautiful and I got to meet many of her friends from the states, as I went in knowing only a handful of the people who would be in attendance. The ceremony and reception were held in a huge beach house on Folly Beach, right on the water's edge. It was gorgeous and a perfect day for a wedding, everything went smoothly and most importantly it seemed a good time was had by all. We were missing the "It’s MILLER TIME" banner that was to be hung on the house, celebrating the newlywed Millers, but that small snafu was the only one of the day. The vows written by the bride and groom made me cry, their true, beautiful love for one another was so brilliantly expressed, and later the toasts by the family and friends all had me in tears (not a hard thing). I was honored to be a part of such a loving gathering, as love is a difficult, odd and somewhat elusive entity for me. Marlowe's dad talked about their family, and the love they all shared despite the "un-traditional" (which has now really become more of the traditional) nature of the family. It was beautifully spoken and poignant. It was a time of deep reflection for me, as weddings always are. Gosh, I am SUCH A GIRL!

Enough with the cheese-ball shit! It was fun, but I was glad to get home yesterday.

The travel day home began way.too.FN.early. 3:30am is not a time any human being should have to wake up, thankfully though I was able to sleep on most of my plane rides, and we arrived back home to St. Croix, at right around 3pm. On the last leg of the trip, I found enough gusto to stay awake, and with my first window seat of the journey, I looked out the window as we left Puerto Rico behind and got closer to my little island in the sun. The sky looked gray and menacing as we left the San Juan airport, but thankfully our travels took us in the other direction. Just offshore of St. Croix, we ran into some amazing scattered rain showers. Flying just low enough, the airplane was parallel with several rainbows, and we could see the small rain clouds as they blew around in the wind. The sun illuminated the ocean in a beautiful shade of blue, and the many rainbows we saw grew more vivid as we flew alongside them, and then faded away. In my sleep deprived delirium, this all looked amazingly magical. I was half expecting to see a winged unicorn flying alongside us!

Now I am home, and enjoying the quiet, solo downtime for a few more days. I re-purchased Elizabeth Gilbert’s, Eat, Pray, Love, having lost my original copy. I don’t like this one as much, as it is a smaller, fatter paperback, with Julia Roberts on the cover. I prefer the original, more fitting (in my opinion) cover art to the more Hollywood-y image it now boasts. However, I would be pretty stoked to be Liz Gilbert and not only have Julia on the cover of my book, but to have her playing me in a movie! Should this all be a lesson in not judging a book by its cover? Sure. So… Now I am taking a little Nicole solo time, reading books, meditating and relaxing. Also enjoying a necessary detox from the booze-fest of the week/ weekend.

Marlowe is enjoying the next chapter of her life, now where will mine take me?

That's why they call it a Depression

2010-06-19T14:31:00.006-04:00

...and it is.

The beautiful, clear blue skies of last week have been replaced with hazy shades of gray as a Tropical Depression settles over the island. It certainly doesn't help with motivation or inspiration. It just makes me want to crawl into my bed and go to sleep. Which is pretty much what I did today.

This is the same bougainvillea I photographed on Wednesday:
Not quite as pretty and hopeful as the other day. This rain also looks to put a damper on my plans for a pre-birthday couple day getaway this week.

So still very little inspiration for creativity, and that is really annoying. Art is a drug for me, highly addictive, and one that there is nothing like. It is a pure, beautiful high though, and I am in dire need of a fix. When I feel creative and inspired I have little to no need for other drugs of choice or addictions. I drink less, I smoke less, I eat less. I just plain feel so much better. So, these days I find myself trying to fill the void with other things, none of which compare to my art highs. Damn this is annoying.

Inspirationless

2010-06-17T10:53:00.007-04:00

It is a very frustrating thing for an artist to have a creative block, it is sort of like creative constipation, you know there is something there, really needing to come out, but you just can't make it.

I've been crawling all over the web, reading countless artist's blogs, YouTube-ing dance videos, and searching for profound passages. I'm seeing some pretty great stuff, but feeling ever the more useless as an artist, because I can't seem to come up with anything even a fraction as brilliant as any of these. It's semi-paralyzing. As an artist, part of your living, breathing and existing is the creative process. It is like living without a part of your body working, imagine trying to breathe with only one lung, or walk without one of your feet, it really feels like a handicap to have nothing to offer to the creative plane.

I went to the art store the other day, with nothing particular in mind, but hoping to find some inspiration. I left with a blank mask, a bag of interestingly patterned feathers, a package of foil-backed gems in shades of blue and some silver-toned metal words. I got home and stared at all of this, dug through my art chest and came out with nothing, nada, zilch. So I built the computer desk that has been sitting in a box on the floor for several months. At least I created something, ignoring the fact that it was essentially carpentry-by-number, and not creative at all. I do have a cool new desk to sit at though. Pics soon come.
This guy sums up how I feel. Blank, boring, emotionless, black and white. It is not a good feeling at all. This too shall pass, this I know, but it doesn't make living in this creative vacuum any easier.

Bougainvillea in the morning

2010-06-16T10:11:00.004-04:00

A friend is letting me borrow his camera for a few days to decide if I want to buy it from him. My crappy little point and shoot died on me the other day, so I have been asking around with my photographer friends as to what brands and styles they like/ use. Luckily, one has a camera he is looking to sell, so I am playing around to see if I like it. It is a far more high tech point and shoot, pretty damn nice so far.

So I snapped a few pictures this morning, and this one is my fave:

"How do you do it?!"

2010-04-09T15:00:00.004-04:00

Someone recently asked me how I "do it". I've wondered the same thing to myself many times lately.

So I answered, "I cry everyday."

My tears are the only thing keeping me sane.

Think outside the box

2010-02-22T22:44:00.008-05:00

... a funny title, when I have always felt constricted when typing in small boxes such as this one for my blog entry. Thanks, Blogger.

But really...

When I was younger, I felt confined, boxed in. I guess when we learn that we exist, and are real creatures who live and breathe, it seems odd that we live in boxes, both literally and figuratively. Houses, neighborhoods, states which are tiny boxes on maps and in atlases. We then begin to learn about "our place" in society, our figurative boxes. I never felt I had one of those, or that I was in the right one, or maybe that I just didn't believe I belonged where I was. As I grew up and learned, I figured out how to put myself in the right box; the things to do and to say. Eventually I even found boxes that felt right to me, where I found some comfort and familiarity. Finally, I found myself in many boxes, fitting into all, but not at the same time. If I was a dancer, I couldn't play basketball or learn karate. If I was an artist, I shouldn't be smart. If I got straight A's, I shouldn't have fun and go out on the weekends. If I worked hard, I should never take time off. It took me years to "fit into" the boxes I wanted to, and when I finally did, I worried about the real person I was coming through and ruining it all, sending me tumbling through space, purgatory, falling without a chute, being lost. Many times in my life I have felt trapped in situations, and almost always felt that they were beyond my control. That feeling of being boxed in, with no way out and nowhere to go. Most of the time I have created the boxes that have restrained me, and/ or been afraid to test the likely thin walls, again, both figuratively and literally.

Then I guess we have those moments. Those experiences in life that make us wake up and realize what matters. Trauma, heartbreak, death, life... Growing up. It makes so many things matter less, and puts much into perspective. Without going into detail, I know that I have choices now, and I can be and do whatever I want. I can be an artist and an athlete, I can be smart and still be silly. I can be mature and still have fun, I can work hard and still enjoy well deserved time off. I've reinvented myself many times in my short life, and still remain that I have only improved with each renaissance. I own the boxes of my life, but have broken them down to where I can pull from them when and what I need. I've merged the box contents, to make an indivisible being. Something I know I should be happy with, and mostly I am. I am many things I am proud of, and will never let that change.

Happy New Year.

New Year's Resolutions

2009-12-29T13:23:00.000-05:00

#1. Blog more.

Like, seriously.

Introducing the newly re-opened Cultured Pelican!

2009-11-23T13:05:00.009-05:00

My new place of employment, the Cultured Pelican, has always been my favorite restaurant on the island. How happy was I to have been given the opportunity to work there under brand new ownership and management! The decor and menu have been updated, with a new and improved wine list coming soon and distinct Italian beer. Executive chef, Rob Cone, assisted by our new stateside boys, Jason and Bruno, are cooking up culinary masterpieces in the kitchen for dinner seven days a week from 5pm to 9:30 and Sunday brunch from 10am to 3pm. The setting couldn't be more perfect, overlooking the sparkling blue Caribbean waters with a view of Buck Island National Monument. On clear days we can see the islands across the water; the other US Virgin Islands and a few of the British. While setting up for dinner service the staff is treated to amazing sunsets which paint the sky with the most delightful hues. Most evenings we also see the historic schooner the Roseway as it creeps across the harbor on its daily sunset sail. The Roseway's likeness also graces one of the walls of the restaurant and coming soon; photographs by local artist and friend Steph Schoyer.

The tables are covered with butcher paper, complete with crayons for customers' entertainment, so if you are coming to dinner, bring your inner artist or inner child! I truly believe the adults have more fun with the crayons than the kids! Romantic corner tables for two are available and we can accommodate most larger groups as well.

Dinner and wine specials are handwritten on our blackboards nightly with selections from the grill and the best of what our local fisherman have to offer. Steaks, seafood and traditional Italian dishes such as chicken, veal and eggplant parmesan are paired with risotto and vegetables or your choice of house-made pastas. Warm, fresh baked rolls and foccacia bread sticks are served with our white bean puree topped with roasted garlic, olive oil, balsamic reduction and a sprinkle of parmesan cheese for dipping. Desserts are fresh made and change daily, with our signature dish, an indulgent Pina Colada Tiramisu - like the traditional Italian delight, with lady fingers soaked in painkiller instead of espresso - a Caribbean twist on an old favorite!

For Sunday brunch, enjoy specialty cocktails such as our fresh squeezed orange juice mimosas, garnished with a juicy orange slice, our famous, "Bloody Mary & the Boys," a pint glass sized bloody mary, topped with three large shrimp, pickled asparagus, green olive and lime or the caipirinha; a refreshing cocktail similar to the mojito but without mint, prepared with cachaça, a rum derived from sugar cane as opposed to molasses. Specialty breakfast hash includes traditional corned beef or our famous lobster hash, along with Chef's occasional specials; chicken rosemary or roast beef, served with eggs any style and choice of toast. Before your meal, we'll tempt your appetite with delicious, fresh baked muffins and scones, all served to you while enjoying the best view on the island!

Can't beat that!

It's a good week to be thankful

2009-11-23T00:21:00.011-05:00

Somethings happen in our lives and remind us of all we have to be thankful for and appreciate. Sometimes these experiences are good and sometimes bad, but they help us to appreciate the beauty in this life and the magic that surrounds us all - if we let it in.

This week I found myself with another severe and potentially life altering medical condition - one which could have caused me to lose sight in one of my eyes. As a creator of art in many forms, this was scary, emotional and concerning at best. At the end of the day, I am remaining positive and know that whatever the outcome, I will take it in stride as I have everything in my life. Through the process, doctor's visits, pharmacy runs, questions concerns and reaching out for help, I have realized what an amazing group of people I have in my life. In tough times, you really do find out who your true friends are, and I am a lucky, lucky girl to have so many wonderful people on my side.

(Michael and I at a 'Razzle Dazzle' outing)
This week has also brought about another one of those experiences that often takes a leap of faith but ends up paying off in so many ways. More stories to be filed under the "rocking chair" category, as a friend once put it to me. Stories and memories that I will have for years to come, and will be telling to those around me when I am a crazy old lady and on (or possibly off) my rocker, reminiscing about the life I lived, the risks I took and the opportunities I embraced. Remembering the good and the bad, how far I've come, all I've accomplished and everything I have learned along the way. These are the moments...

(me helping Captain Al fly back from Virgin Gorda in 2008)

In my life I continue to find new levels of happiness I never thought possible. Life is truly amazing, today is a beautiful day to be alive and there is so much to be thankful for!

Slowing Down and Simple Pleasures

2009-11-04T12:17:00.003-05:00

Life has been hectic, busy, overwhelming at times - but wonderful. I have entered the restaurant worker world, as a server for the newly re-opened Cultured Pelican in Coakley Bay. The Pelican has always been my favorite restaurant on island, for many reasons, the food, the view, the ambiance... I consider myself truly blessed to have been given the opportunity to work there, and especially to get in at the beginning of something so brand new and exciting! It was perfect timing, when the new owner and friend, Mitchell, approached me while I ate brunch at Rum Runners in Christiansted one day, hopelessly looking through the help wanted ads and offered me a job! So far, the Pelican has offered me new friendships and new knowledge in food, wine and fine dining. I am enjoying the lessons I am learning across the board. I truly love what I am doing and the hours certainly allow for more enjoyment of this beautiful island and for other exciting projects!

Today, I was able to slow down and enjoy life a bit again, since it is my day off (except for a wine class/ tasting at the Pelican this afternoon) I got up early and headed out to the beach this morning. It was absolutely perfect! The air has cooled, as has the water and the delicate Caribbean breezes have returned. Shoy's beach was not terribly crowded and I walked almost the length of the beach to my regular spot. After a little sunning and swimming, I decided on another treat for myself, a Schooner Bay salad. To my delight, when I got to the market, the salad fix-ins at the salad bar looked amazingly fresh, varied and delicious. It was my lucky day! I even had a great conversation with the lady in line ahead of me, as she complimented my salad and we expressed our happiness that Schooner is now using plastic containers instead of Styrofoam!

Good vibes all around, simple pleasures and everyday miracles. LIFE is good, and it is a beautiful day to be alive!

BEING A WOMAN IS NOT A PRE-EXISTING CONDITION

2009-11-03T10:46:00.004-05:00

I am honored to work alongside such brave and inspiring women through my affiliation with SOAR (Speaking Out About Rape) and my involvement in Team SOAR. Fellow Team SOAR member and friend, Chrissy Turner has joined forces with the National Women's Law Center in their campaign, "Being a Woman Is Not a Pre-Existing Condition".

Last week Chrissy was on Anderson Cooper 360, you can see her interview here:
http://edition.cnn.com/video/data/2.0/video/bestoftv/2009/10/26/ac360.christina.turner.int.cnn.html

From mother...

2009-10-23T17:36:00.005-04:00

I haven't had much time to document my recent goings-on, but my mother did write about her experiences of last week at the newly re-opened Cultured Pelican, my main place of employment. Lots of fantastical changes, it's all very exciting!

Food, More Food, and World Food…..

I'm Alive

2009-10-22T09:22:00.003-04:00

Going from under-employed to over-employed overnight has been interesting, but I am enjoying every moment of my recent busy-ness. Three months with barely anything to do has made working every day, including a few doubles, manageable and really a good thing for me.

Details to come, lots of exciting stuff.

Life is good :)

Puppy Love

2009-10-08T11:51:00.003-04:00

I realized today, while looking through some pictures, that I have totally fallen in love with Brady. I remember my first pets as an adult, a pair of Siamese kittens, and how everything they did was absolutely the cutest thing any animal had ever done before. I went through rolls and rolls of film (yes, back before digital) taking shots of them in the sink, laundry basket, bookshelves, couch, bed, pillow, chair, salad bowl - even knocking over wine glasses was acceptable because they were sofrickin'cute.

I had the same response to the Brady pictures. He melts my heart with those amazing eyes. Funny, I know someone else who does that...

Slow Mon

2009-10-07T10:48:00.004-04:00

Sign on South Shore.

This week, my friend and fellow blogger Reggie aka Wreggie, blogged about moving fast and some comments he got from the locals while walking through Christiansted on his most recent trip to the island. I heard similar comments for years when I had my business in town, the "townies" and taxi drivers always telling me to slow down, ease up, and other such comments. I was once called "heavy foot", but I think they meant hot foot. It's how I move, I like to get where I am going and I like to get things done, sure there are times when I slow down a bit, but for the most part I move pretty quickly and I'd like to think efficiently.

So I had a few missions to accomplish this week, and after a late start on Monday, I got a really early start on Tuesday and headed out to the motor vehicle bureau to replace my lost driver's license. I had been there the previous afternoon, but for one reason or another, getting the whole process finalized didn't happen. This is typical of dealing with government agencies on St. Croix, oftentimes the process we must go through to get things done is just ridiculous and seemingly counterproductive, but I have come to accept all of that. The art of surrender in action, I know nothing I do is going to make anyone move faster or make any exceptions for me (although there was an instance of exactly that on Monday at the Health Department - I felt like I had won the lottery) so I bring a book, follow directions and plan to spend a long time waiting, that way, no matter what happens I'm pleasantly surprised with the outcome.

So, when I get to the BMV yesterday, minutes after they open for the morning, I see that the notary who is usually there, was not. I needed her to notarize the paper saying that I lost my driver's license, apparently my word is not good enough - but seriously, would I really come to BMV if I didn't really need to? Nope. So, in an attempt to optimize my time, I left and decided to run some errands and come back hopefully once the notary arrived. I ran to K-mart and put gas in my car, and then stopped by a different notary, not wanting to take a chance on the notary at BMV still not being there. That was probably a good stop, because the nice lady behind the window needed me there to kill the gigantic centipede that walked its hundred jointed legs through the door while she notarized my paper. The man sitting in the waiting room looked helplessly at me and grunted with a frightened look as it moved eerily over the tiles (those things creep me out with the way they move), so I swooped in and saved the day - though not for the 'pede. The lady and waiting room guy both made excuses about why they couldn't have killed the 'pede and I just stood up a bit taller, boasting of my centipede killing experience and emphasizing the necessity of it, after living alone for so long. I still remember my first solo kill, damn thing wiggled its way under the door of my Mary's Fancy apartment and I realized that it was up to me, no man around to kill centipedes for me anymore, and I sure as hell wouldn't sleep a wink knowing one of those things was crawling around my place. So I came to terms with it. Centipedes must die.

So then back to BMV, where the no longer necessary notary had arrived. I slide my paperwork through the window at the lady who speaks softly knowing full well that I can't hear her with the noise in the now crowded waiting room, telling me to take a seat. Or so I assumed, I took a seat and opened my book. The security guard comes over to me, a nice middle aged man, slim, with a New York accent. He tells me that I need to slow down, that he saw me there the day before and earlier that morning, and had I just slowed down, and waited, I would have been able to take care of everything right then and there. I laughed and explained to him that while I was gone, I accomplished a few errands and used my time very efficiently. Then he laughed and asked how long I had lived on St. Croix. When I told him it had been 15 years he laughed again, his eyes widening. "Miss, moving that fast I would swear you've been here for about 5 days!" Nope, 15 years on island and I still move pretty fast. I like to get stuff done, there's just so much L I V I N G out there to do!

Quality Control Anyone?

2009-10-06T15:12:00.007-04:00

I am a perfectionist, there are many reasons for this. Actually, let's say that I am a recovering perfectionist. I used to devote a lot of time and energy to making sure everything I was, did, touched and created was, as close as humanly possible to, PERFECTION. Boy was that exhausting! As I perfectionist, I was rarely happy. How could I be? Perfection is not exactly an achievable goal and the perfectionist sadly sets themselves up for failure. There eventually came a time in my life where attempting to attain perfection in my many worlds was JUST.NOT.POSSIBLE. I struggled, became immensely frustrated, fought, cried and eventually surrendered.

I let go. It was a beautiful thing.

I learned valuable lessons through my failed perfectionism including the art of surrender and how to deal with not always being in control of every situation. I learned that there were some things I would rather not waste my time and energy on and found better things to direct it towards. I see many of my friends who also have that perfectionist trait and often feel sorry for those who have not yet let go. Like anything else there is a balance to be struck. That balance however, is not always easy to obtain. Attention to detail is a good thing, it is necessary, especially in most of the things I do (ballet, jewelry manufacturing, writing, gemstone grading and identification) but it can quickly evolve (or devolve?) into perfectionism, if I am not careful.

Today I came across this:

It shocked me! It is the back of the package of glitter glue I treated myself to this week, and as I was reading, I came across this typo. Yes, we have all done it in our typing haste, but really? This slipped by Crayola's quality control, and into the hands of children of all ages, across the country. Damn! I guess I had come to expect more from these companies. Apparently quality control just isn't what it used to be.

Beach-ventures with Barbie and Brady

2009-10-02T10:12:00.016-04:00

It was a bad day at the beach for Barbie. Poor thing. I came across her during a Ha'penny trip the other day. And BOY was I glad I had my camera! Of all the things I have see on on the beach this week, this one sort of took the cake. There was also a very nice and new looking brassiere hanging on one of the trees and one of those big wooden spool like things tipped on its side like a table, complete with blue FEMA tarp table cloth, a small empty flower vase and matching tea cup. Sadly, it seems there is more litter on the beach these days than usual, mostly washed ashore, but much of it obviously from beach goers. I thought about bringing some garbage bags with me on my next visit, but someone beat me to it! A young man I often see walking the beach was there yesterday with a box of garbage bags and rubber gloves. I gave him an extra big smile and thumbs up when I said my good morning. Hopefully he knew it was kudos for the trash cleanup, hmmm...

Since a few people have freaked me out about going to Ha'penny alone (when there are no other people on the beach) and since my vehicle has been burglarized there in the past, I found a new beach companion this week. This is Brady, he's a Catahoula, still a pup at 2 years old and a great beach dog, a good friend and pretty much all around awesome. He's The Man's dog.

Brady is too much fun on the beach and on our first excursion I ran with him, threw sticks, splashed around a bit and even tackled him. Everything at the beach is a source of pure fun and excitement for Brady, I can sort of imagine his internal monologue going something like this, "beachYAY! waterYAY! wavesYAY! sandYAY!stickYAY! seaweedYAY! stinkydeadthingsYAY! playYAY! YAY! YAY! YAY!" (and repeat). It was great and we've gone every morning since, how I have missed my early morning walks on the beach! At that time of day everything looks, feels and smells fresh and new, all the promise and hope of a brand new day. The sun climbing higher in the sky spills brilliance over the ocean like a thousand tiny diamonds, summer skies are crisp and blue and all the colors just seem much cleaner at that time of day. After the two mile trek and other activities, the water is the perfect temperature for a cool down dip. We've also already made friends with some of the other early morning beach visitors, a sweet couple, the French lady with her dogs (guess he likes French bitches just like his dad), a pair of women who walk the beach together and the man who rides his horse on the beach daily.

I was a little too tired yesterday to play fetch, and actually, I was dragging ass down the beach as the poor pup looked at me wondering where the fun girl from the day prior went, and took it upon himself to find a stick and some entertainment. The small ones I select to throw for him amuse him, as I am sure my girlie throws do, but always looking for a challenge, he tries his damnedest to pick up every piece of driftwood on the beach, regardless of size/ width or any sort of attachment. A good lesson in never say can't. Brady makes me smile, we should all aspire to be as happy as dogs. YAY!

Signs, signs everywhere there's signs... except here

2009-09-29T07:56:00.011-04:00

Recently, as I found myself driving around the island, doing probably some sort of errands that made me feel like a productive human being despite their arbitrary nature, I was thinking, pondering and attempting to solve the world's problems. Or I may have been thinking about my life.

For awhile now I have had tentative plans for the next step I take, several options really, but for various reasons, the next step is still a bit far in the distance, at least the next major step. In the meantime, I have much to do around here in order to make the graceful transition into my next lifetime that I insist upon. The right choice has always made itself clear to me at the right time, and I am trusting that this will happen for me again. Oftentimes though, I become frustrated with the lack of forward motion, or motion at all. I hate feeling like I am standing still, or just treading water, I like accomplishing things, even when the accomplishments are small ones.

So I was driving around the island, as I mentioned sentences and paragraphs ago, and thinking that I needed to make a decision, a choice, and start working specifically towards that particular goal. I sort of put it out there that I need some help in that department, asking the universe for a sign of some sort - I am generally quite good at recognizing them. I stop at an intersection and casually look around to see if it was my turn to stop or go.... and that is when I saw the signs - five of them, all with their backs to me. Seriously. I saw five traffic signs, of the stop, JCT, speed limit etc... variety. Facing the other way. I couldn't help but laugh! Sorry Nicole, you don't get any help with this one, you are totally on your own. Ha!

I can deal with that, I welcome challenges and appreciate the freedom of choice. I tend to rebel against set-in-stone decisions and ideas anyway, especially regarding my own life - self sabotage or something, but that is a topic for another post. I am glad the universe has a sense of humor, and that I can recognize it.

Pictures from Past Lives

2009-09-28T12:25:00.018-04:00

I've been many things in past lives, one of these is a jeweler/ jewelry designer. Maybe not literally in past lives, but in parts of this current one that seem like ages ago and lifetimes away, and sort of like in past life regression, snapshots and soundbytes of our current lives can remind us of those past. Lately pieces of my past lives have been coming back, I wouldn't say to haunt me, but to hang around and no doubt tell me something. What that all means is NOT going to find its way to this public space, but I will share some of the flashbacks.

Me with one of many Daily News "Best of the VI" Awards

I ended up going through old pictures this week, during this horrid creative block I was experiencing. I found some pictures of my original jewelry creations, and they made me smile. My wearable art has brought smiles and happiness to many people, myself included. I remember I once had such a difficult time parting with each new work, pieces I had nurtured from conception to birth, not yet ready to let them out into the world. Eventually, I began to take as much pleasure and joy in selling a really wonderful piece to someone who truly appreciated it. That was one of the best parts of that job. So yes, in my most recent past life, I was a jeweler. Of course I still am, though I argue that with anyone who accuses me of being such a thing. Last week I borrowed some time in a friend's jewelry workshop to put some finishing touches on a repair for a friend. After we were both done our projects for the day, we went to lunch, where my friend boasted that she had a "guest artist" in her studio that day. What? Where? Who?ME? Oh yeah, I am an A R T I S T. How quickly we forget.

So I dug up some old photos of some of my favorite pieces, all of which have found fabulous and deserving homes. Fortune, fame, recognition and awards weren't enough for me I guess, because truly, there is no price that can be put on my art. The best thing I ever got in return for a piece of my artwork was the smile and genuine thank you of my customers. No, I still will never be a retail jeweler again - at least not in this life, I think...

18kt yellow gold ripple texture bezel ring with 9ct Brazilian citrine

Banded Druzy Agate pendant in 14kt white gold

Blue flash moonstone and Australian opal slide

Matte 14kt gold green Brazilian tourmaline earrings with diamond

Pink sapphire and diamond wire wrap ring in 14kt white gold

Laguna agate with druzy pocket, 14kt yellow gold

18kt yellow gold heavy bracelet with custom cut larimar and blue topaz

Sunsets and Speechlessness

2009-09-27T09:18:00.006-04:00

Well, this creative blockage I'm experiencing isn't making me feel very good about myself or the world around me. Sometimes the artist's eye is clouded and the vision blurry, and though I know it happens to all of us a times it doesn't make me feel any better about my capabilities as an artist. Or a human being.

I did embark on a lovely island drive yesterday ending up watching one of the most beautiful sunsets I have seen in awhile from Off the Wall at Cane Bay. The day was so brilliantly clear that I could see the other islands in the distance more clearly than I have in ages. Houses and buildings were visible as I drove along the windy roads of the island's North Shore. As I have come to expect from Crucian Summer, the skies were rich blue with perfect clouds and the hills were a hearty green, but even surrounded by such beauty, something was missing inside me. I am uninspired, even by the things that usually make me want to create, and it is a strangling and suffocating feeling, quite literally. The most open of spaces cannot provide enough space for me, and the freshest of air is not fresh enough. Or, as I have been told before, nothing is ever good enough for me. Perhaps that is true, but perhaps I refuse to settle. I am on a quest, a journey for new inspiration. Perhaps a change of scenery is necessary. A change of something is necessary.

Since apparently a picture is worth a thousand words, a couple beautiful photos should express at least something.

Sunset at Off the Wall.

and Scene...

2009-09-22T08:37:00.005-04:00

FUCKthisGODDAMN~~artistic~~creative
BLOCKbullshit!ARGH...

The Violence Against Women Act, est. 1994

2009-09-17T13:34:00.004-04:00

This week marks a milestone in women's and human rights nationwide. 15 years ago, on September 13th 1994, the Violence Against Women Act or VAWA was signed into law.

I wrote about this legislation in a blog I contribute to for SOAR (Speaking Out About Rape), you can read the post here: http://teamsoarblog.wordpress.com/2009/09/16/15th-anniversary-of-the-violence-against-women-act/

As I mention in the post, why are so many waiting until violence hits close to home to get involved? If we all do just one thing to help, imagine what a difference that would make in the lives of people and in the world.

Daytripping: Three Virgins and the VI - RI connection

2009-09-17T11:04:00.013-04:00

Yesterday morning The Man and I set out on a mid-week adventure. We have been planning this for awhile, since finding out my cousin and his wife from RI would be stopping in St. Thomas aboard the Disney Magic. I knew I would go for sure, and invited The Man to come along.

We arrived in St. Thomas at around 9am, having taken Seaborne Airlines' fairly new addition, the Air Shuttle. We got a GREAT deal at only $99 per person round trip, and decided to rent a ~~car~~ Jeep Wrangler to get around the island. So we grabbed the vehicle and drove over to Havensight, where the cruise ship was docked. It was the only one in port that day, so St. Thomas was quieter than usual - that was very nice. Once we found Bobby and Tracy, said our hellos and made the necessary introductions, we decided to try out the skyride to Paradise Point, where the bar at the top is known for its phenomenal Bailey's Bushwhackers. So once up there, of course we indulged - an excellent breakfast! It was indeed a wonderful view, we were a bit disappointed with the experience for the price, however it was worth a try. We snapped some photos with the harbor, islands and cruise ship in the background, though far below us. Due to the lighting, the pictures taken with my camera left something to be desired, but I think Bob got some good shots.

Next, we piled into the Jeep and set out for a scenic drive around the small island's hilly, windy terrain. We stopped at Drake's Seat, a fantastic overlook point where it is said, Sir Francis Drake sat to spy on enemy ships. There was a local man with a goat up there (her name is Madonna) offering the history of the attraction and taking photos for the tourist types. We let him take our photo and tried to run away before he asked us for money, however we were unsuccessful and he got a buck out of Bobby, which apparently didn't please him so he didn't even thank us.

Madonna was enjoying a taste of Tracy's shoe.

Then it was onto Red Hook on the east end, where we planned to take the ferry over to St. John for an hour or two. Unfortunately, we got there just a bit too late for the noon ferry, so we walked over to Molly Malone's in American Yacht Harbor for a quick lunch. There are loads of iguanas that live around there, and they had just thrown out a bunch of lettuce for them to eat, it was fun to watch the dinosaur-like creatures eating, frolicking and sunning themselves all over the place. I recognized our waitress from previous visits and she was wonderful about getting our food and drinks out quickly so that we could catch the 1:00 ferry. Everything worked out perfectly and we got to there with a few minutes to spare.

The ferry ride to St. John was only about 15-20 minutes and we chatted with Bobby and Tracy about the kids, they have three not-so-little ones who are at home with the grandparents so mom and dad could enjoy a nice vacation. On St. John, I had hopes of running into my childhood friend from RI who I recently found out has been living in STJ for years! She works across the island however, and we didn't want to waste time. Besides, I know I can get over there easily anytime, Bob and Tracy were only here for the day! So we grabbed a taxi to Trunk Bay, one of the island's most beautiful beaches, and part of the VI National Park. It was a bit overcast when we got there, but the water was cool and clear and the temperature perfect and refreshing. We spent less than an hour on the beach, so we could head back to STT and get the Rhode Islanders back on the boat in time. We said our goodbyes and wished them the best on the rest of their vacation, it was so nice to have some time with my family, we are a small one, but do our best not to let the distance keep us too far apart.

And then there were two.

The Man and I at Trunk Bay.

The Man and I decided to drive a bit more and managed to drive around the same roads a few times before figuring out the way we needed to go to get where we wanted. We had time and gas to kill though, so the detour was a welcome one with gorgeous scenery all around from the skies, water and lush foliage. We found our way back to the airport in another round about sort of way, deciding then to find a little place to have a last minute drink, seeing as we had some time still before our flight. After a few more detours, thanks to a less than ideal road map, we eventually found a great little pizza place in Frenchtown and sat at the bar for an appetizer and martinis. The waitress there had been in St. Croix recently and asked me about "that popular Italian restaurant" and "this cool waitress who works there". Of course she was talking about one of my best island girls, Sid! We had a great time chatting with her, and exchanged numbers for the next time she comes over to St. Croix. Her last name is Cruzan and her number was a 401 - a RI number! She had spent time in Newport, where my sister now lives.

Rushing to the airport to catch our flight home, we arrived just in the nick of time, or so we thought. We ran separately to return the rental and get checked in for our flight, only to find that our plane was delayed and we would not be leaving until around 7. This gave us an extra hour, so we headed to yet another bar for yet another last minute cocktail.

The day ended with an evening flight home, probably my calmest and most enjoyable flight ever thanks to several pre-flight gin drinks. Three Virgins in one day was exhausting but incredible! It was a fantastic adventure in paradise!

Banna and Beach Hippies

2009-09-12T12:45:00.006-04:00

It had been awhile since I have been out in a social setting. Not only have I not been so inclined, but finances have not allowed for much more than the necessities lately. Of course I do enjoy the occasional splurge on some extra-curricular activities, and having been a slave to a Saturday morning work schedule for years, a Friday night out without fear of the painful Saturday morning wake-up sounded like a great way to wind down the week. The good friends, new and old, good music and a splash of Cruzan Rum didn't hurt either (except slightly in the head region this morning).

So after a power nap and some getting pretty time, I picked up The Man and drove into town where we met up with a new island friend, a recent transplant from Fort Collins, CO, who is after only three weeks leaving STX in favor of a pretty nice gig over in STJ. For once, at the Brew Pub, I knew no one sitting at the bar and only a couple of people who were there at all, bartenders included! The price I pay for being a homebody lately I suppose, but that is a price I am willing to pay.

Then it was onto Mahi's at Chenay Bay for a little Kurt Schindler and a lot of fun. Earlier in the day a friend's Facebook status, "crazy drunk dancing in the sand to kurt @ mahi's..." conjured up great images of an idyllic island evening and reality did not disappoint. Though it was a small crowd, it was a good one, full of familiar friendly faces and genuinely happy people. We took our cocktails out onto the pier where we would remain for the night, enjoying good conversation with the friends who would trickle in and out, and the uppity twang of Kurt's guitar in the background. Chatting with Mr. Fort Collins and listening to his assessment of island life, I was able to see my island again through new eyes. These days I am truly appreciating the beauty around me, and it still makes me proud to call this island my home, when I see the wonder and amazement that newbies find here.

The night continued with more great conversation, laughter and tears, love and light. There was talk of turtles and birds and we were even paid a visit by a night heron. Moonlight danced on the water as we danced by the water's edge. There was stargazing and moon discussions, planning of future lunar events and shooting stars. Magic all around.

The night ended with Kurt's classic, "Banna" and by the time our little pier club decided to head home, the bar had already been closed down. We left behind the gently lapping waves, Cheshire cat-like moon, mystical cloud formations, skyfull of dazzling stars and headed our separate ways. Magic moments, time spent with friends, comfort, honesty, peace and love.

Just another day in paradise :)

"When I was your age, Pluto was a planet..."

2009-09-10T13:12:00.004-04:00

So wanna be planet, Pluto (actually considered a dwarf planet) turns direct after a 5 month retrograde period. Unlike Mercury, a Plutarian (I think I made that up, and I like it) retrograde can be a time of transition and rebirth, representing how we direct our lives! Pluto's retrograde is unlike Mercury's in that it is not a retrograde orbit, but retrograde rotation. Slightly different. Who knew?

"During a Pluto retrograde period, we will feel pressured to eliminate and release the old, outworn, outdated and obsolete in our lives. We will be urged to let go of attitudes, thinking or communication patterns, security drives, and rigid emotions that no longer serve us. This is an excellent time to undergo an internal form of house cleaning, and look into ourselves to determine exactly what we do and do not need."
from astrology.com

Not surprising that the huge changes I have made in my life this year began when Pluto turned retrograde. In fact, the overwhelming feeling I got that I needed to - and would - finally make the necessary changes in my life on my personal path to happiness, began the very day that Pluto embarked on its alternate way. I immediately followed suit.

A horse of a different color

2009-09-10T12:21:00.004-04:00

Messy art Mondays with Steph have inspired me to take journaling to a new level. I have been an avid blogger since 2007 or so, a "semi-private" online journaler since 2004 and have chronicled life in writing as far back as I knew how. Anyhow, I recently found my journals from as far back as age 16-17, fascinating stuff, I tell ya. The discovery of such journals coincided with my receipt of a pair of books, If I'd Known Then and What I Know Now, both compiled and edited by Ellyn Spragins. The former is a book of letters from women in their 20's and 30's to their younger selves, and the latter, more mature women write letters to themselves in their early adult years. 17 was a pivotal year for me, perhaps 17 year-old Nicole needs a letter from 29 year-old Nicole.

I've always felt the intense need to express myself, and that expression was artistic in its many manifestations. After playing with some collage style things over the past few weeks, along with some outside inspiration, I decided to decorate one of my drawing pads, to make a fun and inviting, real life space for my thoughts, an art journal. I guess artists have been doing this for many years, as I found in my online research. So it isn't a brilliant and innovative idea, but it sure is fun and freeing!

Yesterday as I ripped and cut and glued and arranged, I lost myself in a magical place where the rest of the world disappeared. I know that place well, and I am reveling in all the more time I now have to spend there. I've challenged myself to a month of art, striving to create one artistic thing each day for the month of September. I am doing pretty well so far with my list of projects already including choreography, jewelry, poetry, collage, mixed media and somethings just indescribable.

Weathering the storms

2009-09-09T09:44:00.009-04:00

It is the height of hurricane season and the time when I would shut down my business for a few weeks in order to attempt to get some rest and have a bit of downtime before the coming tourist season. Ironic that this year, this is the time when I finally begin to feel calm and relaxed, despite not having the business open for what is now just over 2 months. Creature of habit, indeed I am.

Thus far the tropical storms have only kissed us, Ana and Erika, fickle women that they are. However they have brought much rain to us and blessed the island with delicious greenery everywhere. Summer storms are really magical and I thoroughly enjoy their visits and the experience of the before, during and after. Over the course of my most recent house sitting stint, I was able to watch such storms creep across the water to our south, from my perch on the hill over looking the island's south shore. Truly amazing.

This striking photo was taken on Cotton Valley Shores and sent to me by a friend a few months back, it aptly demonstrates the storm activity I was fortunate enough to observe all those days and nights. Like the storms over the water and over the island, the storms in our lives also come and go, often commanding concern and fear, but passing us by and leaving in their paths a newer, fresh and revitalized vision.

"Clouds come floating into my life, no longer to carry rain or usher storm, but to add color to my sunset sky." - Rabindranath Tagore

Playing tourist on my island

2009-09-08T12:12:00.016-04:00

On St. Croix, we often jokingly complain about making the trek to Frederiksted from east, Christiansted, or even mid-island, a drive which is at most, with traffic, about a 15-20 minute one. A few weeks back, I knew I had to make this long journey to make a delivery, so I decided to be efficient and combine this errand with a lunch date with my leading man while all the way out in this foreign land. We had a great lunch on the waterfront in downtown Frederiksted, looking out over the pier and brilliantly sparkling Caribbean Sea, at newish and fab internet cafe, Polly's. Having not been out there in ages, the view and laid back sleepiness of Frederiksted were a welcome change of pace and scenery. Definitely worth the trip!

Yesterday, The Man was returning from a long weekend get-away (not to get-away from me, FYI) and upon picking him up from the airport, we decided to drive out to Frederiksted once again, to consume the celebratory bottle of Prosecco I had picked up for the occasion.

I've said it many times that there are views and landscapes on this island that still take my breath away, even after living here as long as I have. Snapshots that look as though they should grace the pages of a glossy paradise calendar or the front of a postcard from a tropical vacation. Oh yeah, I DO live in a tropical paradise. That doesn't suck.

Enjoying Frederiksted's sleepier than usual holiday vibe, we played tourist sitting along the water's rocky edge, strolling down the palm lined sidewalk and venturing out on the water on the cruise ship pier. It was a beautiful day with rich blue skies and dazzling color everywhere. Looking back on St. Croix from the far point of the pier, the hills were lush and the historic downtown area looked picture perfect. The clean streets and superbly designed waterfront (renovated a handful of years back) definitely give Christiansted a run for its money. Gimme Frederiksted baby, I guess west is the best!

Shiny happy people, The Man and I.

Skyward view of palms.

"For once you have tasted flight you will walk the earth with your eyes turned skywards, for there you have been and there you will long to return." - Leonardo da Vinci

For the birds

2009-09-04T11:12:00.008-04:00

I once played the roll of an ornithologist in a local play, The Lone Star Love Potion at Caribbean Community Theater, directed by Debby Babb. Sadly, playing an ornithologist on stage did not help me identify the birds that I have been noticing as of late.

Several weeks ago (or perhaps months - being unemployed can make one lose track of time, SHOCKING) in the course of my errands, travels and other such adventures I noticed a bird. Yes a bird. Now I am not one to normally notice such things, and until fairly recently I was so caught up in my life as I knew it, that I spent little to no time noticing and appreciating the natural beauty around me. So, this bird just captivated me, I was in my car waiting for traffic to move and this bird just perched beside my vehicle on the curb and looked at me as birds do. Looking at me head on, then to the side, since their little beady eyes are on the sides of their heads. I had such a feeling that this little guy/ gal was trying to tell me something, but I didn't know what. I just got the ever so calm feeling from looking into its shiny black eyes, rimmed with gold. That same afternoon, I arrived home to the place in Mary's Fancy where I was living at the time and opened my door only to have another bird fly right at me, perching on my car door as I opened it and squawking at me loudly! There had been some landscaping, bulldozing and paving going on in the neighborhood, and I wondered if perhaps this bird had lost her nest, and she was angrily accusing me of being the one responsible. This was the Pearly-eyed Thrasher.

Last week, during a walk on Ha'Penny, I passed a somewhat odd looking bird, tall and standing upright along the shoreline at the edge of the beach. The folks walking past me in the other direction glanced at it and said, "What an odd looking bird!" It wasn't really that odd-looking, and it looked much like a heron. I remember being enamored with the dark markings on its head and face, this bird looked like it was wearing eyeliner! I would have called this one a Painted Heron, but in the course of my research, I found no such thing. It just stood there as beach walkers and beach goers passed it by. I believe that this was the Little Blue Heron.

Today, through my kitchen windows, a couple of Zenaida Doves settling along the rail of the porch gave impetus for this post. Not long ago (and let's revisit that unemployment/ loss of time thing) date uncertain, a dear friend lent me a book that she thought I would enjoy. The Lost Soul Companion: A Book of Comfort and Constructive Advice for Black Sheep, Square Pegs, Struggling Artists, and Other Free Spirits by Susan M. Brackney is a great little book for us crazy, bipolar, messy artist types. She describes a type of communication between songbirds, "phatic communication" or small talk. The birds, while seeming to exert great effort in their exchange, are simply relaying a sense of being. "I am here, where are you?", with the same in reply, perhaps offering comfort in their mutual existence and proximity.

Here's a shout to all you fellow struggling, brilliant artists out there. Boo-yah.

"A bird does not sing because it has an answer. It sings because it has a song." - Chinese Proverb

I am a DANCER

2009-09-03T15:21:00.005-04:00

Martha Graham; woman, artist, choreographer, visionary, teacher, spiritual being and DANCER, has always captivated me with her dynamic work in the field of dance, choreography and life. Her brilliant quotations and epic essay, "I am a Dancer," mirror my views, philosophy and passion for the art and life force that is dance - in a way that seems no small coincidence. Her eternal spirit calls to me and draws me in, part of her passion lives within me, fanning that internal flame. Her works in all mediums inspires my inner artist and draws me into that timeless realm of pure, pristine and beautiful creation.

A revolutionary woman in so many senses, Graham lived a life fairly recognizable and fathomable to many a brilliant and tortured artist. Words cannot express the incredible level of respect and acclaim I hold for her, but in all likelihood, such words do not exist - which is infinitely appropriate, as in her own words, "the body says what words cannot."

Nothing in my life has allowed for the depths of expression I achieve through my physical self in this art form, there is a feeling beyond words that courses through my body and explodes in the moment, the aching that is felt in the physical and spiritual body. That which can only be, DANCE.

I am a Dancer
by Martha Graham

I am a dancer. I believe that we learn by practice. Whether it means to learn to dance by practicing dancing or to learn to live by practicing living, the principles are the same. In each it is the performance of a dedicated precise set of acts, physical or intellectual, from which comes shape of achievement, a sense of one's being, a satisfaction of spirit. One becomes in some area an athlete of God.

To practice means to perform, in the face of all obstacles, some act of vision, of faith, of desire. Practice is a means of inviting the perfection desired.

I think the reason dance has held such an ageless magic for the world is that it has been the symbol of the performance of living. Even as I write, time has begun to make today yesterday-the past. The most brilliant scientific discoveries will in time change and perhaps grow obsolete, as new scientific manifestations emerge. But art is eternal, for it reveals the inner landscape, which is the soul of man.

Many times I hear the phrase "the dance of life." It is an expression that touches me deeply, for the instrument through which the dance speaks is also the instrument through which life is lived-the human body. It is the instrument by which all the primaries of life are made manifest. It holds in its memory all matters of life and death and love. Dancing appears glamorous, easy, delightful. But the path to the paradise of the achievement is not easier than any other. There is fatigue so great that the body cries, even in its sleep. There are times of complete frustration, there are daily small deaths. Then I need all the comfort that practice has stored in my memory, a tenacity of faith.

It takes about ten years to make a mature dancer. The training is twofold. First comes the study and practice of the craft which is the school where you are working in order to strengthen the muscular structure of the body. The body is shaped, disciplined, honored, and in time, trusted. The movement becomes clean, precise, eloquent, truthful. Movement never lies. It is a barometer telling the state of the soul's weather to all who can read it. This might be called the law of the dancer's life-the law which governs its outer aspects.

Then comes the cultivation of the being from which whatever you have to say comes. It doesn't just come out of nowhere, it comes out of a great curiosity. The main thing, of course, always is the fact that there is only one of you in the world, just one, and if that is not fulfilled then something has been lost. Ambition is not enough; necessity is everything. It is through this that the legends of the soul's journey are retold with all their tragedy and their bitterness and sweetness of living. It is at this point that he weep of life catches up with the mere personality of the performer, and while the individual becomes greater, the personal becomes less personal. And there is grace. I mean the grace resulting from faith — faith in life, in love, in people, in the act of dancing. All this is necessary to any performance in life which is magnetic, powerful, rich in meaning.

In a dancer, there is a reverence for such forgotten things as the miracle of the small beautiful bones and their delicate strength. In a thinker, there is a reverence for the beauty of the alert and directed and lucid mind. In all of us who perform there is an awareness of the smile which is part of the equipment, or gift, of the acrobat. We have all walked the high wire of circumstance at times. We recognize the gravity pull of the earth as he does. The smile is there because he is practicing living at that instant of danger. He does not choose to fall.

At times I fear walking that tightrope. I fear the venture into the unknown. But that is part of the act of creating and the act of performing. That is what a dancer does.
from http://marthagraham.org/resources/about_martha_graham.php#dancer

I am a DANCER, YES I AM!

Moonbows and Magic

2009-09-03T10:29:00.006-04:00

There are some moments in life that can only be described as magical. Last night was one of those nights, which was on par with one of the other most magical experiences of my life.

Beach sunsets and sky-gazing complemented with wine and laughter. Smiles and wide-eyes, shoreline strolls and moonlit swimming. The only way to describe the evening is magical, and for someone with usually lots of words and adjectives, I'm still rendered speechless.

The pièce de résistance; a moonbow which appeared only moments after the radiant moon emerged from a cloud, illuminating the inky-blue sky in perfect tandem with a delicate rain shower. Contemplation on the existence of such a phenomena was quickly acknowledged as the perfect arched beam appeared before our eyes, over the lustrous, rippled water. The lunar rainbow, as they are also called, displayed sleepy, auroral bands, with ever so slight gradients only visible to the most discerning of eyes (yes mine).

The calm, comfort, peace and serenity. Perfect moments, natural beauty. Believe in magic, and in moonbows. I do.

Stellar Sundays and Magic Mondays

2009-08-31T21:55:00.007-04:00

Simple pleasures are captivating me once again. Considering my financial state these days, that is a good and necessary thing. Before too long I will be working again and not have the luxury of time to enjoy and take in the beautiful things that unemployment is currently affording me. This is really such a beautiful island, and I will truly miss it when I am gone, but I know the time is coming for me to move on. Before I do however, I am taking in the things that my ridiculous work schedule never allowed for. Appreciating and fully experiencing the beauty of this island, in the physical and the overall character and energy.

Sunday was a day filled with Caribbean breezes and blues, laughter and smiles, love and delight. Ecstasy. Life is funny sometimes, sometimes it is perfect, but it is always just right. A drive alongside the water in a convertible with the top down, hair freely whipping in the wind, felt more like a movie or car commercial than reality. The fantastic blues of the sky accented with various cloud formations invoked my inner 2 year old. I smiled and giggled, and regarded the sky with the wide-eyed excitement of a young child. Little Nikki indeed came along for the ride.

Monday began also with wide-eyed excitement, the promise of a new day and week, and the impending opportunity for artistic greatness. It was artsty-fartsy play day, chez schoyer. I accomplished a few fun pieces, just really beginning to get the creative juices flowing, and flow they did. After pulling a shift with Steph, I packed up my vehicle and headed out, with three new collage style mixed media pieces in tow, and glitter, glue, magazine scraps and pencil shavings now adorning my fingers, arms, hair and sundress. I think Little Nikki was a guest artist today.

The bliss I feel is beyond amazing and I must remind myself that I can enjoy these things as much as I do. No more waiting for something to go wrong, or the other shoe to drop. This is really it, this is really my life. and i prefer not to wear shoes anyway.

Fear in the night

2009-08-27T16:30:00.001-04:00

"Light drains out of the sky
as day turns to night.
Fear creeps in like a long casting shadow
and the hazy silver sliver of a moon
lends not enough hope in the dark."

Moving Beyond Words

2009-08-23T21:44:00.006-04:00

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/08/23/magazine/23Women-t.html

This incredible article from the New York Times was brought to my attention recently, and though much of the information in it was familiar to me, I found its presentation incredibly moving and powerful. As I read, I began to tear up, as I read further, tears flowed freely from my eyes and down my cheeks and my heart ached. It reminded me of the reasons I am a feminist, activist, advocate and work with, and in support of, organizations which seek to help and empower women in this country as well as others.

It is frustrating to me that feminism still has a negative connotation and that so many women perpetuate that and the perceived non-issue of gender inequity out of ignorance. This article illustrates the incredible power of women and the abhorrent injustice and significant loss in the mis or dis-use of all that women throughout the world have to offer. In the US, feminists still protest and rally for equal pay, fight against sexual and domestic assault and attempt to bring light to the reality that at the end of the day, women are still regarded and treated as second class citizens. Being treated as second class citizens, however, means something totally different in countries such as those described in this article. In the words of Gloria Steinem (the inspiration for this post title), "The first problem for all of us, men and women, is not to learn, but to unlearn."

This is a reminder to me that there is more I want and need to do in this life, the drive to make a difference, or at least work towards making one, is so strong for me. I have felt it, heard the calling, yet ignored it for years, making one excuse or another. Empowering women is something I feel the need to do, and have begun to on a small scale in my life already. I have the fight and the passion inside me, and hope to use my creative ways to inspire, educate and empower. We all have the power to make a difference, whether on a small or large scale. Incredible acts and everyday miracles are needed; great and small, near and far, here and now.

The article, and my reaction to it, reminded me of Sarah McLachlan's inspiring music video for her song "World on Fire". I first saw the video during an early morning elliptical session years ago, during which I continued my workout, with tears streaming down my face as I experienced today, and the same aching in my heart and soul. Instead of actually creating a costly music video, Sarah recorded her own video, donating the would be production expenses to various world organizations. Incredible, amazing, inspiring. Sarah has always been one of my favorite artists, for all these reasons and more.

The video is here.

The list of the donations and recipient charities can be seen here.

Hasn't the time come for moving beyond words and ideas?

Happiness is a journey, and it's a nice one to be on

2009-08-23T13:49:00.007-04:00

Almost two months ago, I closed the doors to the business I have run for 7 years. It was bittersweet, as I had put so much of myself into it, in so many ways, but through it all, I never looked back or had much of a doubt in my mind that this was the right thing for me. Guess that seven year itch gets me every time, or something. Nah, that wasn't it... though my life does indeed go in seven year cycles. Months ago, I did something that began the chain of events that ended one era for me, and opened the door to THE REST OF MY LIFE. I simply gave myself permission to make changes in my life - if I wanted to - meaning that I could change my career, change my place/state/island of residence, change my mind, change my LIFE.

And I did.

Though it began as giving myself permission to think of a life totally different than the one I was living - simply entertaining the possibility - it quickly became a plan, then a reality. It is said that Saturn return is a period in our lives in which we experience unrest, upheaval and the onset of "true" adulthood, bringing about major changes, often including leaving relationships and/ or careers behind. The first Saturn return also is said to bring self-evaluation, independence, ambition, and self actualization. Yup.

Over the course of the 2008-2009 Nicole year (June to June), I had begun to realize that the career I once found amazing, challenging and inspiring, had become anything but. I no longer had that dynamic, creative zest for what I did, in an industry I once loved. My creativity and passion for jewelry, gemology and design, once brilliantly flourishing, was as barren as a desert. I felt the life being sucked out of me, by the very thing I once loved, and it was taking a major toll on my physical and mental health. To boot, I was no longer running the business, it was running me. INTOTHEGROUND. I decided that I would rather be an inspired starving artist, than to continue to essentially whore myself and my talents out, for anyone, anything, any amount of money. Well that all happened pretty quickly, starving-artist-dom, there have been a few weeks where I couldn't afford groceries. Self-fulfilling prophecies have always been my thing...

Now, two months later I find myself in a better place than I have ever been. Gone is the regular, comfortable income that afforded me my once desirable and enviable lifestyle. Instead, what it has been replaced with is a beautiful thing. Calm, serenity, inspiration. Appreciation of simple pleasures, everyday adventures and ordinary miracles. I have time to read, write, dance, dream. I can again create art - in the many forms in which I am inclined - just because I want to. There are lots of things that I don't have, that I once prized and held onto tightly, such as money and a tight, flat stomach, but those things are less important these days, as I realize and define for myself the things which truly bring me happiness. Life is short, life is funny, life is indeed what we make of it. We can't buy happiness, but we can create it. I've always been good at creating things and this one is my greatest work of art yet.

"Happiness is a journey, not a destination; happiness is to be found along the way not at the end of the road, for then the journey is over and it's too late. The time for happiness is today not tomorrow." - Paul H. Dunn

Today is a beautiful day to be alive

2009-08-11T22:50:00.009-04:00

A week ago, as I drove around the island doing errands but stopping long enough for a short stint at the beach, I sent a text to a friend. It said, "it's a beautiful day to be alive." I had been stressed about uncertain details in my life, like moving, money, responsibilities and employment. The scenery that met my eyes and delighted my senses, lifted my spirits, and reminded me of the beauty of this life and this island.

Later that evening, I witnessed the horror of one human taking the life of another.

There is much talk that flies around on a small island such as this one, accusations, rumors, fear, anger but also support and love. I have lived on St. Croix for 15 years this week and I love my island just as much as ever. When crimes have happened, I have refused to run away or cower in fear. Each time it hits a little closer to home, I have remained, and still, that has not changed. The last week has been a tempest of emotions, but I have chosen to direct my focus to the positive, as the bumper stickers say, "Positive is How I Live".

The world looks a bit different through my eyes this week, but the beauty is still there. I'm smiling at the infinite blue green hues of the Caribbean Sea, the brilliant blue skies and the way the fiery Flamboyant blossoms sit against it, contrasting the island's lush greenery. I appreciate the friendly motorists who let me go in front of them - for no reason, the family at the small laundromat I frequent, who always remember my name and greet me with a smile, walking into nearly every restaurant on the island and being greeted on a first name basis - and usually friendly hugs. Perfect, beach side island weddings, and experiencing the beauty of love and friendship - new and old, people coming together to celebrate, in life and love. Singing, dancing, laughing, crying. Walking dogs on beaches, the fresh tracks in the sand of endangered nesting sea turtles, birds that sing and reply just to know another is out there, sleeping with my cat curled up next to me - his soft fur touching my leg just enough to know he is there - as we both seek comfort in each other with our new and still unfamiliar surroundings. Friends and family, and extended family, and their incredible support. My island, my life.

Yes, positive IS how I live and today (yes today) is a beautiful day to be alive.

Weather, Wine and the (water)Color Yellow

2009-07-21T13:26:00.006-04:00

Yellow. The color of the sun, which, is not out today, nor has it been out very much these days. The tumultuous weather, with random bouts of violent winds, extreme rains, threats of sunshine alternating with gray overcast-ness reflects my moods and mental state these days. Manic. Dark. Borderline.

But back to yellow. During a power outage last night I decided to pull out my K-mart watercolors (don’t knock it ‘til you try it) and paint by candlelight. Of course as soon as I had my candles lit and a perfect little art corner set up for myself, the power came back on. Sort of like hanging clothes out on the line to make it rain. By then the watercolors were staring me in the face, and I had to use them. It had been years since I painted with watercolor, my paints all brand new and the box of cheap brushes not even opened. It took me awhile to get back in to the watercolor groove, but I got there, through a process which ended with a minimum of 10 crumpled pieces of watercolor paper and a maximum of zero pieces I liked. Ahhh… temperamental artist-ness.

But back to yellow. While working with the yellow watercolor, I realized what a fickle, petulant, unpredictable color yellow is. The way that you must use only the cleanest brush when you work with yellow watercolor, and be sure your water is uber-clear, constantly toweling off its surface to ensure purity of hue. As I moved onto colored pencils (yes, also from K-mart, RoseArt baby!) I found similar results. Needless to say, yellow does not play well with others. People have said that about me at times. No actually that is a lie, I play very well with others. I am not yellow, not at all.

But back to yellow. It reminded me of the metaphor for life in the movie “Sideways” surrounding pinot grapes.

“Um, it's a hard grape to grow, as you know. Right? It's uh, it's thin-skinned, temperamental, ripens early. It's, you know, it's not a survivor like Cabernet, which can just grow anywhere and uh, thrive even when it's neglected. No, Pinot needs constant care and attention. You know? And in fact it can only grow in these really specific, little, tucked away corners of the world. And, and only the most patient and nurturing of growers can do it, really. Only somebody who really takes the time to understand Pinot's potential can then coax it into its fullest expression. Then, I mean, oh its flavors, they're just the most haunting and brilliant and thrilling and subtle and... ancient on the planet.”

Pinot noir is indeed one of my favorite wines. Yellow, well it’s growing on me.

Manic Monday Meets the Number Seven

2009-07-20T23:28:00.006-04:00

When I go for SO LONG without blogging, I really don't even know where to begin once I am back on the blogging bandwagon. This past month has been full of more interesting, crazy, fun, sexy, cool and completelyeffedup stuff than most of the other 347ish months of my life. Some of it planned, some of it unexpected, some of it totally surprising and some of it beyond my wildest dreams. I kinda like it. Perhaps that means I get crazier with age, PFFT... that's a given isn't it? Soooo, since it is the seventh month, my life goes in seven year cycles and seven is one of my lucky numbers, I will give you fourteen headlines of the past month (that is seven times two for those out there who aren't mathematicians), seven good and seven bad. Or something like that, I may or may not stick the set guidelines. In fact, I am thinking more along the lines of seven things I did and seven things I didn't do since my last blog post. And you know what, maybe YOU will have to be the judge of which ones I did and didn't do. So it is like an interactive blog post! How fun... you're welcome.

Things I did or did not do, month of July to date:

1. Kissed a 44 year old lesbian pilot named Nicole.
2. Took the biggest leap of faith of my life.
3. Went skydiving (not to be confused with #2).
4. Painted with watercolors by candlelight.
5. Closed the doors to the business I have had for seven years. Phew.
6. Felt ecstatic.
7. Had nervous breakdown (aka, did not feel ecstatic)
8. Watched a German Sheppard continuously try to fit a third tennis ball in his mouth while already having two in there, dropping one and getting the new one, to have only two in his mouth, and then again going for the one he just dropped. again. and again.
9. Had sex with a gay man.
10. Finally killed ALL the AA batteries in my house, teehee.
11. Decapitated my cat.
12. Shot a gun.
13. Had a dinner date with a man who is not a complete psycho.
14. Did a colon cleanse (gnarly)

The title of this post reminds me of one of my favorite ever books, The Missing Piece Meets the Big O by Shel Silverstein - which is not about orgasms contrary to what it may seem - I thought it was too and was totally weirded out when my mom gave it to me like 4 years ago. Here is the story, I'm feeling generous today. You're welcome.

So true

2009-07-03T21:01:00.003-04:00

I love PostSecret, and appropriately one of this week's secrets rings very true for the place I find myself, in this time of new discoveries, new beginnings and leaving behind old limits.

This could have been my post card, and for so many of us, eh?

For my birthday...

2009-06-30T09:39:00.004-04:00

Some of you may know, I do not like to accept birthday gifts, at least not material ones. Instead, I prefer to spend my birthday with people I love and the people who inspire me and have been important parts of my life over the years. YOU make the difference in my life. SO, for my birthday, this is the only thing I am asking for:

Leave me a comment to this entry, with a memory, compliment, comment, joke, inspiration, SOMETHING that we have done together, or something you want to tell me or say to me. The only thing I ask is that they be NICE things. Nasty comments will be deleted, hell it's my birthday and my blog. I can do that. They can be embarrassing and/ or funny, you should all know I have a sense of humor and am known to throw myself under the bus from time to time. Vibrator stories will grace the blog soon, so pretty much anything goes here. Just nothing that will get me arrested. Wasn't that better than spending money? Reminds me of a MasterCard commercial I once saw...

KThanks.

Now go!

Body Modifications

2009-06-25T00:25:00.009-04:00

Steph of bohemian rhapsody made a post recently about her dreadlocks and her decision to get them, which was inspired by another artist’s blog about her thoughts on “to dread or not to dread”. Both posts made me think a lot about how I have felt confined to look a certain way because of the things I have done and involved myself with in my life. I have never thought about dreadlocks, I don't quite think they are my style, but I do totally relate to the way bohogirl describes her relationship with her hair:

"You see...one thing people have always noticed about me is my hair. My feminine, loose, long, flowy hair. So, in a sense, I have sort of hid behind it. Often wondering if I would be pretty without it. Wondering if that is the only thing that is really pretty about me at all. I rarely put my hair up because I feel self conscious about my face sometimes. I just never felt I was that girl that looked that great with her hair up."
http://bohophotography.blogspot.com/2009/06/to-dread-or-not-to-dread.html

nail.head.

But back to body mods in general. Firstly, being a dancer, I was unable to get obvious body modifications like tattoos and piercings. Costumes exposed enough that there were few reasonable tattoo locations that were hidden by them. Even though I decided not to pursue a career as a professional dancer (and I could have), I was so involved in the performing arts, that I didn’t dare rock the boat with obvious body art. Well, okay I did get a tattoo, though a hide-able one on my lower back (a tramp stamp) only days after my eighteenth birthday as an exercise in independence and adulthood. Secondly, being a small business owner and a young woman, I needed to present an extremely professional demeanor, as I did have those two things to overcompensate for already, being young and female. I dressed and acted the part I knew I was supposed to, and it worked, in both cases, I got what I wanted by playing the games and following all the rules. All those years I was content to live as I had been, with a perceived inability to change my appearance in any dramatic and permanent or semi-permanent way. I never really thought much about it, until now.

Well, rewind. I DID get my nose pierced when I was 25, in fact it was on a birthday trip to St. Thomas for my 25th birthday, so it was about this time four years ago. Even that decision, weighed on me for a long time, I had always wanted a nose ring since seeing Joan Osborne’s video “One of Us”, and admiring the delicate and perfect metal ring that looped through her nose, but still at age 25, I was extremely concerned about the repercussions such a piercing would have on my life. How silly! I did it, though I never have put a hoop in it, and I absolutely love the little genuine diamond in 14kt white gold that sits on the left side of my nose. My customers even compliment me on it!

The reality is that I could have done what I wanted at any point in my life, there were no rules confining me to a vanilla existence, but I was more concerned with what others thought of me than I was with asserting my individuality. These days, as I get older and the window for being a dancer disappears (the only thing I would still sacrifice body mods for), I am more comfortable with who I am and the path I am taking, enough to start taking risks where fashion and body mods are concerned. I am wearing colors, wrapping my head with fun scarfy type things, donning bright costume jewelry (gasp!), even wearing blue eye-shadow, and thinking about what I like instead of what I should do or wear. The more I embrace my inner artist, the more she manifests in so many ways. I’m pretty bored with looking like everyone else and am finding myself open to yet another means of self-expression.

Don't. Wait.

2009-06-23T22:10:00.008-04:00

When my maternal grand-mother passed away, I was about 16, she was only 55. I remember being up in Rhode Island years later, talking to my grand-father, her widower, about things I wanted to do in my life, trips I wanted to take, plans I was beginning to make. His advice was an emphatic, "DON'T WAIT." Life is short, this we know, and everything can change at any moment.

THERE IS NO BETTER TIME THAN NOW TO BE HAPPY.
(I ran across this link when I googled the words). This is a sound bite that has stuck in my head, as so many do, surely something I ran across along the way that my conscious or sub-conscious mind found interesting and thus tucked away for later use. Hell, there is no better time than now to use it!

It is all so true though, and I know very well that I always get nostalgic around my birthday, reminiscing about the events of the past year, good, bad, indifferent and the lessons learned from all of it. This year, as the one before it, has been one hell of a year, filled with some of the best and worst experiences OF MY LIFE. I have finally come to really embody and experience life as a journey rather than a destination, and this is the most exciting realization of the past 12 months, and in fact, though everything before this has been leading up to it, the last four months have been the most incredible, transformative, eye-opening.

Just over a year ago, I found myself in the hospital with my first major health scare. I was terrified and so many words, conditions, diagnoses and treatments were thrown around and thrown at me. I didn't know what was happening to me, and I didn't know how it would affect the rest of my life. It taxed me physically, emotionally, spiritually and financially. It really broke my spirit and made me wonder if I would ever be happy and healthy again, it was a horrible time in my life, but through it all, I found my personal path to happiness. I made a decision, a mostly conscious one, but yet it hit me like an epiphany, with such speed, force and lack of warning, TO.BE.HAPPY.

Simple, right? So we'd like to think, but making ourselves happy doesn't seem to be easy (if it was maybe more of us would try/do it!), not when we are pretty much brought up, taught, sociaized how to be miserable and ignore our instincts and desires, replacing them with versions of the "status quo". Oh, and that misery loves company thing, yeah, that's true.

Another one of my sound bites is the title of a book I just added to my Amazon wish list, called Not Tonight Honey, Wait 'Til I'm A Size Six by Susan Reinhardt. It is a reminder to me of all the silly, trivial things that ~~have kept me from~~ I have allowed to keep me from being happy, those things I wanted to wait for before I allowed myself to have fun, be free and be me. I wanted to be thinner, tanner, in better shape, have better clothes, jewelry (yeah, really), more money saved, more money period, real estate, a better shop, a better job, a husband, a boyfriend, no boyrfriend. My list could go on and on. Sheryl Crow once said, "it's not having what you want, it's wanting what you got." That's exactly it. Everyday actions, common miracles (oxymoron much?) and simple pleasures paint my world with the most vivid colors flooding it with ecstasy. There really is no better time than now to be happy.

My birthday is one week from today, and I am exited and looking forward to anything and everything the day, and the next year will bring. Whatever that may be. I've decided, allowed myself and chosen TO.BE.HAPPY.

I put on pants for this?

2009-06-21T19:10:00.010-04:00

I'm having a lazy Sunday. I am also beating myself up about it because I so enjoy my Sundays when I wake up EARLY and get a lot accomplished, then head to the beach for a leisurely afternoon, then still have most of the day to do whatever I want. That didn't happen today but that is okay (note to self: REALLY SELF, IT IS OKAY). Instead, I spent most of the day in bed, napping and nursing a very sore shoulder that I must have slept on funny. Or something.

I was standing in my kitchen when I noticed the oddest light coming in through the window. I assumed it was just that the streetlights had gone on and it was not yet dark so the combination of odd-streetlight light and the only slightly darkened sky was causing the borderline creepy lighting in my otherwise unlit kitchen. So I looked out the window and instead of seeing what I expected to see, I saw ~~pink elephants~~ pink puffy clouds that looked like something really fake or cotton candy. The clouds were SO.COOL. that I ran to my bedroom to put on pants so I could go outside and take a picture of how friggin' amazing the clouds looked and instead I ended up in the sundress I was going to wear last night but opted for jeans instead because the dress ~~made me look fat~~ was not the most flattering. By the time that was settled, I grabbed the camera to head outside and the awesome pink elephant clouds looked less awesome than I remembered and I was totally bummed! So I took a picture anyway and enhanced the color a bit until the picture on my screen looked the same way the picture in my head did. I'm not even on mushrooms, honest.

What really happened here is that I got carried away with PSP but thought this looked really cool.

This is actually how I think it looked, but the clouds were still more pink, and puffy, like the stuffing that might live inside a stuffed pink elephant. Or something.

EDIT: I still think the first picture is more accurate.

The good news is I really didn't put on pants for this.

Love is...

2009-06-12T08:30:00.005-04:00

I am growing disenchanted with the numerous emails I receive from the astrology site on which I read about the stars, planetary alignment and generally my daily horoscope. Somehow I find myself on their mailing list for love & romance. With would-be catchy subject lines like, "Nicole, win him back!", "Nicole, is he thinking about leaving you?", "Nicole, has he moved on?", "Nicole, will you be together again?" Hmmm... Who the hell is HE? And no thanks, not likely, hope so and hope not.

I have never been a believer in there being a bigger plan where love is concerned, but that may be just me, the broken, cynical belladonna I have so often been likened to. I believe in love, sure - true deep amazing love - but I don't believe in soul mates or the idea that one perfect person will complete us. I am whole and fine and well without another person in my life, and I most certainly don't believe that planetary alignment, astrology or time/ place of birth influences the reality of love in my life. I just don't, and I am okay with that.

So I had to laugh at this picture on that same website this morning, because even I was taken away with the beautiful fantasy of it all upon first glance. Pictures, ideas, fairy tales and movie plots flood our minds and skew our perception of love. That's right, when we achieve this purity and beauty, and are surrounded by white light, a handsome man will come along to hoist us onto a pedestal. Yay.

Self-preservation mode

2009-06-11T08:18:00.007-04:00

It's the calm after the storm, or something. Oddly though, I am not feeling calm, I am feeling E X H A U S T E D. I guess that is not surprising looking back at the last few months in my life. Lots of wonderful, but tiring things. I find myself now feeling taxed, drained - emotionally, physically, spiritually. I feel like my resources have been tapped in so many ways, and I am having a hard time re-grouping and re-charging. It's actually quite annoying, all those great ideas and inspiration I had while in the midst of the chaos of the past month, all those "when I have time I will..." promises. I feel devoid of my creativity, of my tolerance for people and my desire to do all the things I normally enjoy. I guess when you give so much in all those ways, eventually, the reserves are used up. Now I have time, and where did all those ideas, that drive and determination go? Grrr... I'll get there though.

In the meantime I am switching to self-preservation mode, listening to and nurturing myself, spending lots of quiet, alone time. Monday, I took the day off from work and was determined to get to the beach, so much so in fact that I sat through at least a ten minute rain shower and chilly breezes during what was pretty much entirely an overcast day. I looked at it as a cleansing, rejuvenating experience, and the ocean water was like a luscious, salty bathtub. I managed even to get a little bit of sun, where there seemed there was none to be found. Again now, it is raining outside the big windows in my apartment, it smells sweet and fresh and looks like magic. The breeze wafting through brings the delicious smell of rain and wet foliage to my nose.

Last night I was in bed before 9pm, after trying and failing to read, blog, or otherwise exist. So I decided to meditate until I finally turned off my light at midnight or so. This morning I was up before the sun, and my alarm, again, and having tackled several projects during this creative block, I found myself with little to do, so I jumped in my car and drove to Ha'penny beach, where I took my two-mile walk along the ocean, with the sky stretched out before me, enjoying the beauty of the sunrise and reveling in the promise of a brand new day.

My throat has been bothering me, in a way that feels like it is closing up and that I am being strangled. I am drinking lots of tea and water and taking my vitamins. I am sure that I am suffering a bit of a throat chakra (Vishuddha) block, which I know is only temporary. So in the meantime I am paying attention to it, wearing my aquamarine around my neck, spending time with the water and the skies, and wearing and surrounding myself with blue tones. This too shall pass.

And finally, in an attempt to breed some positivity, an exercise in life affirmations and appreciation borrowed from Grey Street Girl

Live: I'm finally living my life for me, and for no one else. Not seeking approval or allowing myself to get caught up in outside influences. This is MY time.

Love: I am attempting to be less judgmental and look upon everything in a less critical way, myself included. Loving myself and others for who and what they are, and accepting imperfection and humanness. It is a lot to unlearn, and I am taking it in stride, one step at a time. Unconditional love is something I am only beginning to understand, but from what I see it is a beautiful thing.

Laugh: I am not taking life too seriously, instead I am having fun with it, enjoying each new brilliant moment and its place in the bigger picture. "The best thing you've ever done for me, if to help me take my life less seriously. It's only life afterall." - Indigo Girls, Closer to Fine

Eyes on the skies...

2009-06-02T16:39:00.003-04:00

Lately, I have been getting lost in the skies. A lot. I mentioned this to a friend who agreed that summer skies are just amazing, they truly look like a path to another dimension, and the depths are beyond anything I can describe in words. Honestly, sometimes I need to remind myself to pay attention to the road in front of me when I am driving in my car, I just find myself absolutely enamored with the stunning beauty above. I used to be guilty of not being able to see two feet in front of myself, both literally and figuratively, but now I am looking forward, ahead, in far more ways than one.

This reminds me of a quote that I have seen used often in association with skydiving:

"When once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been and there you will always long to return." - Leonardo da Vinci

I told another friend about a skydiver I met this weekend, and she told me that I always seem to run into skydivers! It is true. On my way back from Operation Freefall this year, I sat next to a guy on the airplane who was a skydiver. Is it their energy I am attracted to, or vice versa? Perhaps I really do have that skydiving passion in me, it may just be quiet for the time being while I make my peace with the loss of my friend now almost three years back.

The skies are telling me something, and I am being open and listening. For the first time in a long time, I have found myself calm and serene when flying in airplanes, something I can't usually say. My plane flight up to 13,500 this year was the most calm one ever, usually I find myself stricken with nerves and a knotty stomach instead.

You might say my head is in the clouds, and my eyes are on the skies, and it is a delightful place to be!

Crucian Summer

2009-05-31T14:06:00.010-04:00

Crucian summer is here, the air is getting warmer and sweeter and there is beauty all around. Brilliant colors delight the senses and delicate breezes lightly tickle the skin. I recently described crucian summer to a friend as "hot and humid, but clear and beautiful as well." I'm sticking with that too.

It really is a beautiful day today and I am a bit bummed that I cannot enjoy it more, but I'm off the the theater shortly for rehearsals. The show must go on.

I did however get up early this morning and drag myself to the beach. I figured the water, sand and sun would be a good remedy for the slight hangover I'm not supposed to have. Oh well, I had a couple shots last night during a CRAZY busy night at the Pickled Greek as we celebrated one year in business. It was a great time, I really love that place and the people. So happy for "Papi", one of my adopted island fathers!

Ha'penny beach (because do I even bother with any other beaches? ...NO)
was exceptionally beautiful today, calm, clear, flat, sparkling (the last two would be an oxy-moron if it was like water you were ordering at a fancy restaurant) water, dazzling blue skies and perfect puffy white clouds. I walked to my regular spot on the beach in front of my dream home (think it used to be a hotel) and as I looked back on the strip of beach I had just walked, the scene literally took my breath away. This island still does that to me, and perhaps now more than ever. I really love this place, and regardless of where my journey takes me in the near future, I know I will wind up back here in some capacity before too long.

Happy Sunday.

The "little" things

2009-05-29T07:54:00.005-04:00

Sometimes the smallest of things can bring a smile to one's face. After a tiring week which is seeming to tax me physically, emotionally and spiritually, I woke up this morning being annoyed at the sun in my face through my kitchen window instead of reveling in the beautiful sunrise as I have every other day this week. Then my landlords' TINY dogs got all territorial when the larger (and by larger I mean about 500x their size) and older dog from next door happened into the yard in front of my window. The interaction between the three canines made me literally laugh out loud!

Some little people have been making me smile lately too, like my friend's beautiful little girl who was the flower girl at the wedding I attended last Sunday, and the revelation that I can enjoy the younger generation without wanting to personally add to it.

Galileo

2009-05-27T08:57:00.009-04:00

The song "Galileo" by the Indigo Girls has my mind in a frenzied state of contemplation (as does the coffee I had planned to stop drinking this week).

"Galileo's head was on the block the crime was looking up the truth..."

As I think about Galileo's theories in relation to the earth and the universe, and the absurdity that it was regarded with in his time, I wonder if in years to come the prejudices facing our generation and its "radical" ideas will be looked as with as much shock and disbelief as that with which I look upon the then resistance to Galileo's thoughts. I have to hope that in the future, the next generations will look back at our time and find the struggles, both in acts and attitudes, in the areas of gender, race, religion, sexual orientation and more, to be a thought so much in the distant past that it is almost impossible to comprehend.

"...and as the bombshells of my daily fears explode
i try to trace them to my youth

and then you had to bring up reincarnation
over a couple of beers the other night
and now i'm serving time for mistakes
made by another in another lifetime

how long till my soul gets it right
can any human being ever reach that kind of light
i call on the resting soul of galileo
king of night vision, king of insight

and then i think about my fear of motion
which i never could explain
some other fool across the ocean years ago
must have crashed his little airplane

how long till my soul gets it right
can any human being ever reach that kind of light
i call on the resting soul of galileo
king of night vision, king of insight

i'm not making a joke, you know me
i take everything so seriously
if we wait for the time till all souls get it right
then at least i know there'll nuclear annihilation
in the nighttime i'm still not right

i offer thanks to those before me
that's all i've got to say
'cause maybe you squandered big bucks in your lifetime
now i have to pay
but then again it feels like some sort of inspiration
to let the next life off the hook
but she'll say "look what i had to overcome from my last life
i think i'll write a book"

The lyrics also bring up interesting thoughts on enlightenment and the soul versus our current physical states of being. Gosh, I love these women. Thankfully, in this day and age, there are more enlightened souls sharing and supporting their vision, and what a powerful phenomenon it is!

I couldn't resist

2009-05-25T14:42:00.003-04:00

I recently came across an advertisement for a well known language-learning software as I browsed the web. Apparently, as the ad implies, this well known software now offers help with learning how to speak DOG! (Or how to talk to a red ball, I'm not really sure which)

In Living Color

2009-05-25T09:36:00.012-04:00

An amazing thing happened to me recently. Coinciding (not-surprisingly) with my new openness and awakening, I have begun to see color. Really see color. I have always had a keen eye for color and slight nuances in shades, which has been an extremely valuable tool in my career as a gemologist, because of the need to identify and separate very slight color gradients. This “living in color” thing began when a friend of mine in Florida explained that the only way she could think of to describe how she was feeling was “yellow”. It was funny at first, but upon discovering what the color yellow symbolizes, the idea began to grow and take on a whole new meaning.

Upon returning home from my amazing trip to Florida, which truly opened up my heart, soul and vision in ways I could have never imagined, colors began to jump out at me everywhere! It was/ is simply amazing. The whole world at first began to look like a photograph where the artist purposely mutes all but one primary hue, and that one hue stands out against everything else in the photo. Yellow popped out first, followed by orange, then red. I realized I was seeing the primary colors, colors of the spectrum which are also the colors associated with the seven chakras. It continued through the seven main chakra colors and of course the revelations that came with each color I re-discovered were infinitely appropriate.

The reds of the beautiful flowers that boast contrast to their complimentary lush greens around the island, yellows and oranges join in. Blues of the sky and the ocean, both seeming and feeling like worlds of their own. Cheerfully painted houses with accenting shutters, even the varying hues of the cars I pass on my way to work each day. I walked to the post office in the early morning sun and wondered about the other colors, until I was greeted with the smiling face of one of town’s familiar ladies, with flowers in her hair and her signature thick purple framed glasses. She sat beside a car with the most glowing indigo paint I have ever seen. I felt the energy build inside me and couldn’t help but smile brightly for the rest of the day.

With my new color awareness I have also re-discovered some great music, the Indigo Girls and my old Lilith Fair (WHICH IS COMING BACK IN 2010!!!!) CDs, including an old favorite, Dar Williams. It has also lead me to re-research Indigo Children, and a friend’s wedding at the Botanical Gardens yesterday was absolutely stunning and in brilliant color. Here is their cake:
Turning to colors builds me up again, I can feel the energy and vibrations they give off. I have seen these colors around me for years, but I have finally begun to really feel the power in a new and phenomenal way. I am embracing the energy of the beautiful colors around me, and it is a brilliant experience. I am living not only in color, but in high definition, smiling to myself as each hue delights my senses and energizes my spirit. It’s really almost too good to be true, but true it is.

Visitors to GemsDirect

2009-05-21T06:14:00.009-04:00

Everyday at work I have many visitors who happen into the store for reasons other than buying jewelry. Last week, I had two visitors of a different sort; Frankie the rat and Flat Nicole! Now if this sounds like a children's story book, I assure you it is not. Though it really could be. Frankie the rat, is, well, A RAT. Yeah, he walked in the front door late Saturday afternoon and despite my efforts and those of the VI's finest, Frankie ended up hanging around.

For a couple of days I thought about how I could get rid of Frankie, everyone suggested glue traps, which are horribly, inhumane, but I needed to get rid of this guy. He was shitting and pissing all over my jeweler's bench (which actually prompted me to get it cleaned and organized) and making the store smell just awful. I also found that he had decided a plastic bag full of 14kt yellow gold jump rings would make a nice addition the the rat's nest I am sure he was building. Plus, I have trays of loose gemstones out that I am inventorying - would he be adding gems to his house? Or perhaps simply ingesting them? Not my favorite, talk about an expensive meal. I was terrified that I was just going to be sitting on my bench, working away and he would run over my foot, or bite a toe or something. So I wondered where he might be hiding/ building his new home accented with 14kt yellow gold jump rings. Actually, I thought, if I was a rat, I would LOVE to live in GemsDirect! I thought about all the cool little rat sized hidey holes and fun places and spaces to go! What an adventure! Frankie was no dummie (yes I know), he came into the one shop in town where the owner was a sucker for/ has a big heart for all creatures great and small AND has the coolest hiding places. It reminded me of the book I read in school as a child, From the Mixed-Up Filed of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler. What a great book that was! Then I noticed a few nibble marks on some things on my bench; the dispenser on a container of avocado oil I use to re-hydrate stones like opal and emerald, a small chunk of beeswax I use to pick up small stones, the corner of a plastic desk organizer. I looked closer at the tiny teeth marks and thought back to the white rat I had as a pet back in Rhode Island, Benjamin. I totally softened, this rat is a little creature, a cute, small, furry being who deserves more than a glue trap or some other similar fate that all the people who had offered to help me get rid of him would likely subject him to. So I called my mother to borrow a Hav-a-hart trap, and before I left the store on Tuesday I put some peanut butter in the trap, set it out my my bench where I knew he frequented, and left for the night.

In the middle of the night I was bombarded with freak-out thoughts that this HUGE rat (he was much bigger in my mind than in reality) would throw his body from side to side in the trap, kicking it not only off the table I had placed it on, but into my oxygen cylinder, causing it to fall over and explode around the store breaking cases and walls, causing total destruction of my poor business. Shit, calm down Nicole. Maybe that rat isn't that big. Still, I was a bit concerned.

The next morning I awoke and got into town earlier than usual, to check out the status of the trap and my store. Sure enough, there was my little rodent friend, small, grey, furry and cute. And covered in shit, piss and peanut butter. He was cute! Actually, he is camera shy, and I am not sure if a he or a she, because everytime I tried to look at him or talk to him he ran to the far corner of the cage and hid. Oh well. So he may be a girl. The name Frankie works for either, and yes, I got the name from the book. So Frankie hung out with me at GemsDirect all day, I put his little cage in a quiet corner and offered some of my banana and some roasted chick peas (they had curry flavor though) and he wasn't interested in either. Smart rat, he knew his appetite was what had gotten him into this mess.
End of the day came and I pulled up my car to the shop door and put him in the back, packing up and heading to Lowry Hill where I thought he might like to live. On my way, I decided it made sense just to go show him to my mother and then let him loose in one of the fields over there in Sally's Fancy. As I drove, more freak-out thoughts that the cage in the back would tip over as I drove around the curves of Lowry Hill, Frankie would come bouncing out and attack the evil woman who has help him captive for nearly 24 hours. So I drove slowly and cautiously, navigating carefully around each curve and bump/ pothole in the road. And if you know the route from GemsDirect to the Great Pond, you know there are quite a few things to navagate around! No horses yesterday though. Mom wasn't home, but my step-dad was (they are neighbors and no longer married) so he came out to see the rat and we chatted for a bit. I drove up the road a bit to a bushy area and opened the cage. Frankie tore out of the cage with the cutest little rat-size leaps and bounds! I smiled as I watched him/her disappear in the tall grass. I think he/ she is a happier rat now, and we both had a bit of an adventure.

Oh yeah, Flat Nicole was at GemsDirect as well last week. She doesn't get a paragraph though, just a photo. The drawbacks of being simply 2 dimensional.

Meet Victor

2009-05-20T21:36:00.009-04:00

Victor is one of Christiansted's more, shall we say, eccentric residents. When I was still in high school I remember finding him sleeping at the bus shanty in Watergut where my sister and I had to wait for the bus to take us out west to Good Hope. Once I began working in town, Victor became a familiar face, and this year, he has begun to pay me daily visits in the store. He has told me that if I ever need a boyfriend, that he is available, but only if I behave properly. That's nice to know. He has also informed me that he wishes to get married twice, to which I told him that means he has to get divorced at least once. That is fine with him, he said he would sign divorce papers. I think he is hinting at making me one of those wives.

Home for Victor is on the stairwell above the Bombay Club, as far as I know. I accidentally came over uninvited late one night, while out with the girls. My friend got a bit emotional, so I told her to follow me up stairs where we could chat in peace without people walking by wondering why on earth she was crying. I caught our friend Vic with his pants down, literally, and turned and ran down the stairs as fast as I could. Apparently, he is a bit of a flasher. Not really a quality I look for in a husband.

Victor thinks my girlfriend Sidney and I are sisters, he thinks so because we told him this. It works, and he cautions me that he sees my sister out late a lot, drinking alcohol and tells me I should be sure that she stays away from the Night Train. He also thinks I am the younger one. I like that.

Conspiracy theories are Vic's specialty. He believes that if you give away your phone number, you are giving away your identity, he speaks of having to transform and collaborate but I really just think he likes using big words. He told me that because I use a computer to connect to the internet with a phone number, that people out there can steal my identity. I sort of believe him. We can become different people and lose ourselves in our online presence, I certainly believe that having taken some time away from the distraction of the online realm. Perhaps I shall heed Victor's warning.

He also tells me I look more beautiful when I am not drinking booze. I agree Victor, I wholeheartedly agree :)

Disconnected

2009-05-20T11:30:00.004-04:00

Last week Thursday, as I sat down to my laptop to do my normal evening computer routine (work, facebook, work, blog, work, twitter, etc...), I moved the laptop a bit too harshly in an attempt to be uber-efficient and get everything from point a to point b quickly. Not so much. My laptop power cord shit-the-bed. I could try to blame Mercury's retrograde (as it was during Mercury's last retrograde that my last cord decided to crap out) but really, I think I had banged that thing around way too much. Apparently these power cords/ adapters are not indestructible. Who knew?

So I am back in action. Slowly but surely as Mercury is on its way back to a direct path, so are the broken pieces of my material existence. I began my week with the purchase of new front tires, today my new power cord arrived and tomorrow I will get two of my car windows replaced (those that were smashed over a month ago during an evening beach walk at Ha-penny). I am also reorganizing and purging things at home. Yes, early preparations for a move.

It has been nice though, an existence without the distractions of the internet. It has taught me a lesson on need and slowing down. The world, shockingly, did not collapse as I was offline, and it gave me lots of time to JUST BE. Of course my mind is ever running and this welcome quiet has allowed me contemplative time, which has been interesting and very enlightening.

I've also discovered some new-old music without my trusty laptop and various MP3s and playlists. The Indigo Girls have found me again, much to my delight (as has indigo in many senses). So here are some mid-week lyrics. My musical flavor of the moment:

All That We Let In - The Indigo Girls

Dust in our eyes our own boots kicked up
Heartsick we nursed along the way we picked up
You may not see it when it's sticking to your skin
But we're better off for all that we let in

Lost friends and loved ones much too young
So much promises and work left undone
When all that guards us is a single centerline
And the brutal crossing over when it's time

I don't know where it all begins
And I don't know where it all will end
We're better off for all that we let in

One day those toughies will be withered up and bent
The father son the holy warriors and the president
With glory days of put up dukes for all the world to see
Beaten into submission in the name of the free

We're in an evolution I have heard it said
Everyone's so busy now but do we move ahead
The planets hurting and atoms splitting
And a sweater for your love you sit there knitting

See those crosses on the side of the road
Tied with ribbons in the medium
They make me grateful I can go this far
Lay me down and never wake me up again

Kat writes a poem and she sticks it on my truck
We don't believe in war and we don't believe in luck
The birds were calling to her what were they saying
As the gate blew open the tops of the trees were swaying

I've passed the cemetery walk my dog down there
I read the names in stone and say a silent prayer
When I get home you're cooking supper on the stove
And the greatest gift of life is to know love

If Men Could Menstruate

2009-05-14T07:51:00.009-04:00

Though I posted yesterday about what I have done for myself to celebrate the major health and personal breakthroughs I have had in the past year since my hospital visit, I failed to mention perhaps the most exciting way I am celebrating this anniversary of sorts.

Ovulating.

Yes, and it is a good one. So good in fact I am fully feeling the power of the feminine. Interestingly enough, my meditation card today was "create". Which I could, create a baby that is, but no thanks. I'll continue to create art in the many different forms to which I am inclined.

But my pride over my ovulation, a sign that my body is back to doing its thing, reminds me of an essay by Gloria Steinem, "If Men Could Menstruate", (and I love what the title implies with use of the world "could") from her book Outrageous Acts and Everyday Rebellions.

"A white minority of the world has spent centuries conning us into thinking that a white skin makes people superior—even though the only thing it really does is make them more subject to ultraviolet rays and to wrinkles. Male human beings have built whole cultures around the idea that penis-envy is "natural" to women—though having such an unprotected organ might be said to make men vulnerable, and the power to give birth makes womb-envy at least as logical.

In short, the characteristics of the powerful, whatever they may be, are thought to be better than the characteristics of the powerless—and logic has nothing to do with it.
What would happen, for instance, if suddenly, magically, men could menstruate and women could not?

The answer is clear—menstruation would become an enviable, boast-worthy, masculine event:

Men would brag about how long and how much.
Boys would mark the onset of menses, that longed-for proof of manhood, with religious ritual and stag parties.

Congress would fund a National Institute of Dysmenorrhea to help stamp out monthly discomforts.

Sanitary supplies would be federally funded and free. (Of course, some men would still pay for the prestige of commercial brands such as John Wayne Tampons, Muhammad Ali’s Rope-a-dope Pads, Joe Namath Jock Shields—"For Those Light Bachelor Days," and Robert "Baretta" Blake Maxi-Pads.)

Military men, right-wing politicians, and religious fundamentalists would cite menstruation ("men-struation") as proof that only men could serve in the Army ("you have to give blood to take blood"), occupy political office ("can women be aggressive without that steadfast cycle governed by the planet Mars?"), be priest and ministers ("how could a woman give her blood for our sins?") or rabbis ("without the monthly loss of impurities, women remain unclean").

Male radicals, left-wing politicians, mystics, however, would insist that women are equal, just different, and that any woman could enter their ranks if she were willing to self-inflict a major wound every month ("you MUST give blood for the revolution"), recognize the preeminence of menstrual issues, or subordinate her selfness to all men in their Cycle of Enlightenment. Street guys would brag ("I’m a three pad man") or answer praise from a buddy ("Man, you lookin‘ good!") by giving fives and saying, "Yeah, man, I'm on the rag!" TV shows would treat the subject at length. ("Happy Days": Richie and Potsie try to convince Fonzie that he is still "The Fonz," though he has missed two periods in a row.) So would newspapers. (SHARK SCARE THREATENS MENSTRUATING MEN. JUDGE CITES MONTHLY STRESS IN PARDONING RAPIST.) And movies. (Newman and Redford in "Blood Brothers"!)

Men would convince women that intercourse was more pleasurable at "that time of the month." Lesbians would be said to fear blood and therefore life itself—though probably only because they needed a good menstruating man.

Of course, male intellectuals would offer the most moral and logical arguments. How could a woman master any discipline that demanded a sense of time, space, mathematics, or measurement, for instance, without that in-built gift for measuring the cycles of the moon and planets—and thus for measuring anything at all? In the rarefied fields of philosophy and religion, could women compensate for missing the rhythm of the universe? Or for their lack of symbolic death-and-resurrection every month?

Liberal males in every field would try to be kind: the fact that "these people" have no gift for measuring life or connecting to the universe, the liberals would explain, should be punishment enough.

And how would women be trained to react? One can imagine traditional women agreeing to all arguments with a staunch and smiling masochism. ("The ERA would force housewives to wound themselves every month": Phyllis Schlafly. "Your husband’s blood is as sacred as that of Jesus - and so sexy, too!" Marabel Morgan.) Reformers and Queen Bees would try to imitate men, and pretend to have a monthly cycle. All feminists would explain endlessly that men, too, needed to be liberated from the false idea of Martian aggressiveness, just as women needed to escape the bonds of menses envy. Radical feminists would add that the oppression of the non-menstrual was the pattern for all other oppressions ("Vampires were our first freedom fighters!") Cultural feminists would develop a bloodless imagery in art and literature. Socialist feminists would insist that only under capitalism would men be able to monopolize menstrual blood . . . .

In fact, if men could menstruate, the power justifications could probably go on forever.

If we let them."

Cheers, ladies!

Treating Myself...well

2009-05-13T14:16:00.007-04:00

With yesterday being the one year anniversary of my visit to the hospital with a nearly-exploding ovary, I decided it was a good day to treat myself well. I began working on a piece of jewelry for myself, actually two of them, that I had started kicking around ideas for years ago. I finally mounted the gorgeous 30-something carat aquamarine cabochon that I had bought on a trip to St. Thomas when I was still married. I remember the excitement when I bought it, such a simple purchase that made me truly happy. Through the years I have pulled out the stone many a time, but have never found the perfect mounting for it. So, I made the bezel setting, thinking that would get me going. I wanted to wear it as a ring, but found information that Aquamarine is best worn close to the neck, so a pendant it became. Aquamarine is a stone of protection, safe travels over water, strengthening and filtering psychic abilities and overall balance. Perfect.
I also started to polish up a silver cuff bracelet I have had for years, longer than the aqua, and noticed a few small nicks and dents. Not fantastic, but then I got an idea. This is what became of it, and I think it is one of the coolest pieces I have made in awhile!
It's important to nurture my art for my own personal pleasures too, and make things that are just for me. I also treated myself to chocolate, as I was buying some for a friend who was having a less than pleasant afternoon.

Yesterday was a great day, for many reasons, far better than the May 12th a year ago.

An Anniversary, and the Mind/ Body Connection

2009-05-12T23:05:00.005-04:00

One year ago today, I drove myself to the hospital emergency room at 9am, thinking that my abdomen was about to explode. The weeks of extraordinary pain in my mid-section, ridiculous body swelling, horrid PMS-like symptoms and 15 pound weight gain, almost overnight, had finally become too much. I called my gynecologist, who was to busy to speak to me, I was in tears, barely able to talk through the pain and fear of not knowing what was going on with my body. The nurse/ secretary was rude and was very annoyed with my sobs and my cracking voice as she instructed me to go to the hospital emergency room. So I pulled myself together, grabbed a book and drove to the ER, calling my mother on the way. I then pulled over into the parking lot just before the hospital and broke down into a fit of snotty, teary, retching sobs. Again, I tried to compose myself and walked into the ER. Once inside, with all eyes on my and my swollen puffy face and eyes, the tears began again, I was just terrified, I had never experienced these feelings in my body, and I wanted them to stop and more importantly, figure out what was wrong.

Of course everyone said I was pregnant, which I knew was not the case. But the doctors and nurses treated me as though I was just a stupid knocked up, clueless girl. Actually, my ER doc did not, he was calm and very kind. A bit HOTTER than I would have liked, considering he did have to give me a pelvic exam, but c'est la vie. Finally, tests came back negative for pregnancy. No shit. I suggested to the doctor that I may have an ovarian cyst, as I had been researching my symptoms online ever since they developed. A sonogram and an ultrasound later, lots of waiting, some reading and a few naps, my results came back. The doctor found a very large cyst on my left ovary, which was larger than the ovary itself, and a fibroid in the outside front of my uterus. There was nothing they could do for me, except to get another ultrasound to be sure the cyst had shrunk or disappeared in a month or two. So after pulling a shift in the ER, I walked out just after 5pm.

I felt better knowing what was wrong, and immersed myself in research both online and in books, learning as much as I could about these conditions and their treatments. What I found was frustrating, most doctors just recommend "watchful waiting" and "very few women experience any symptoms at all!" Excellent, I'm such a damn overachiever I even have to get sick better then most.

So I sought out other women with similar experiences, and found many sharing my frustrations. Frustration doesn't really do it though, too many female problems are ignored. In fact in my research there is really interesting studies that show that the ovaries don't wither and die when women go through menopause, but actually change function, with one area becoming less active and another one more active in a completely different way! The power of the female body and the magic of our reproductive system is amazing to say the least!

Here I am, a year later, and through a lot of pain, depression, anger, self-destruction, frustration and money, and a self-diagnosis of PCOS, I find myself in a better place than I have ever been. I surrendered, realizing that this was something I had to live with, and I had to find a way to live with it, and with myself. It was a year of self-examination as I probed deeper into the underlying problems. I think I am finally on the right path to wholeness and health. Of course I have made the necessary changes and decisions and am on the path to becoming who I was meant to be, inside and out.

The other day I picked up "Women's Bodies, Women's Wisdom" again, and found this paragraph, which I had never seen before, in spite of my devotion to the book over the course of the year:

"When a woman does not heed her innermost creative wisdom because of her fears or insecurities about the world outside herself, ovarian problems can arise. They may arise in situations in which she perceives herself as being controlled or criticized by forces outside herself. Financial or physical threats in the outer world affect the ovaries, especially if a woman believes she has no way to alleviate the threats. Thus, a woman who is abandoned by her mate or feels stressed on the job may develop ovarian problems if she feels she has no means of escape from her situation and that the "outer" world is preventing her from changing. Just as life stresses may cause uterine problems, they may also cause ovarian problems. Uterine and ovarian problems are often intimately related, but there are also differences. The primary energy involved in uterine problems is a woman's perception in her innermost self that she can't or shouldn't or doesn't deserve to free herself from a limiting situation or create solutions that can support her. The uterus is very intimately linked to the third chakra and self-esteem. Uterine problems result when a woman's personal and emotional insecurities keep her from expressing her creativity fully. In these cases, she believes that she herself lacks the inner resources to do so; in other words, she is doing it to herself."

Exactly.

I guess I knew it on some level, my journey is all about creative expression and not being tied down or trapped. The mind body connection is beyond amazing, and so is the power of women. Girl power!

Happy Monday!

2009-05-11T11:09:00.007-04:00

Not many people are happy about Mondays, usually I'm not thrilled with them, but so far, this Monday morning has been a GREAT one.

The sky on my way to work was the most amazing bright blue and its depth captivated me. The green of the trees were rich and amazing, and the spattering of yellow, orange and pink flowers all around delighted my senses. Green is in the forefront of my vision today, and not in any sort of jealous way, in a beautiful, magical way.

On this Monday I am appreciating the beautiful moments, both small and large;
• Trusting myself and my inner voice, and having faith
• New friends
• Being first in line with no wait at the lab
• Getting the best parking spot in town (the first Farchette & Hanley spot!)
• Putting the finishing touches on a brand new piece of jewelry

"Paraiba Moon" 14kt white and yellow gold pendant with rainbow moonstone and paraiba tourmaline.

"People become really quite remarkable when they start thinking that they can do things. When they believe in themselves they have the first secret of success."

- Norman Vincent Peale

Flat Nicole goes to Buck Island

2009-05-11T08:19:00.011-04:00

Flat Nicole has started a journey much like Flat Stanley. At SOAR SPA (Something Positive Afterward) one of the exercises we did was to have a partner trace the outline of our bodies on butcher paper. It was very powerful for me, being a young(ish) woman in this society and living with body issues for as long as I can remember. Anyhow, my drawing became "Flat Nicole". Flat Nicole accompanied us to Skydive City in Zephyrhills and then she came home with me from Florida, taking her first plane flight. My friends requested pictures of Flat Nicole at the gorgeous beaches on St. Croix, so when I my mother invited me to go kayaking to Buck Island with her and her husband for Mothers' Day, I knew Flat Nicole should make the trip as well.

The kayak trip was great, much calmer than last time, so it was a bit easier without the rough seas. I got lots of sun again, and a good leg work out. Plus this time I didn't fall off the kayak (however there were also no cute boys this time around to fall off in front of). We made bets on how many turtles we would see, and I won with a total of 6 seen. It was a beautiful day and I splashed around in the exceptionally clear water at Buck like a little kid, I think "little Nikki" came out again to play and she had a great time. The colors were so vibrant, everything looked almost too good to be true, but it wasn't, it was real, it is the beautiful life I live. I saw a man laying in the sand, just flat on his back in the sand, and I thought that was a phenomenal idea, so I followed suit. The warm, white grains of sand felt so good on my bare skin and I made sand angels and admired the way the sand stuck to my wet hair (not caring about what a nightmare it would be to get them out later).

I felt free, alive, ecstatic. Life is good!

Happy Friday

2009-05-08T08:12:00.019-04:00

It has been a phenomenal week. I am happy, smiling. Life is good! Today I get to go to work and have a "play day"! This is what happens when I get to play:

Two play days in fact, today and tomorrow, as I have finished all my chores (repairs) and this island Cinderella can go to the ball (play with sparkly rocks and fancy metals). Of course this probably means that I will be bombarded with customers and no time to do my fun art jewelry projects as I anticipate. That's cool, I like making money. I like making art more though. I guess I really am an artist, that's why so many of us are starving and need to get jobs in our like-third-adopted-island-father's restaurant in order to buy groceries and gas. But you know what? I am happier than I have EVERBEENINMYLIFE!

Dream flashback: my landlords raised my rent again and I watched two airplane crashes. Hmmmmph.

I am probably a horrible cat-mommy, no, I pretty much know I am. I am never home, but cats are supposed to be independent creatures, right?! Mine's needy, go figure, he's a male. Anyhow, I went out to get food for myself last night (and cooked a delightful vegetarian cream of cauliflower soup with mushrooms) and I totally forgot to buy cat food. So, lucky-ducky (orange)Crush gets TUNAFISH for the second day in a row, which he pukes up in the middle of the night and that is always something fun to wake up to. This morning, no food. Sorry Crush, I'll get you some really soon, but you have plenty of "reserves" to keep you going and I know you aren't using the elliptical when I am not home, nor getting much exercise in your painstaking lumberings from room to room. So in lieu of food this morning, I got my cat high. I keep catnip around for those days when this cat-mommy needs a break. I figure if he's high he won't think about food. Wrong. Guess cat-nip is like pot, now I think he has the munchees (yes i know I spelled that wrong but I like it).

I've been realizing the power of color lately. I'm feeling yellow and orange, which interestingly enough were always my least favorite colors. I am seeing the world sort of like those photographs where the artist mutes most of the colors, pulling out one primary hue? I see this in my real frame of vision lately. No joke. So.Cool. No! I'm not even on drugs, in fact, this is better than any drug I have ever done. Real life ecstasy, and I thought that "high on life" idea was bullshit, whoddathunk?!

I have also started reading thebloggess.com, as suggested by Steph and I am hooked. The woman writes the way I think, in run-on sentences that never seem to end. I love it, and she has inspired me to not censor my run-ons with restrictive punctuation. Thanks blogess.

Nicole Time

2009-05-06T07:58:00.003-04:00

It's kind of like "crucian time" defined by the Crucian Dictionary as "to be "on Crucian time" is to be late, often shockingly late (according to Stateside standards.) Certain events, like the annual Crucian Christmas Festival parade, are famous for starting several hours late. As the saying goes, "On St. Croix, if you're half an hour late, you're fifteen minutes early!"

Nicole time uses the same time format (approx. 15 minutes late) with different reasons. If I see I have 5 minutes before I have to leave to go somewhere, I look for a task to occupy those five minutes, wishing to utilize and maximize every moment efficiently. Of course the selected task to be completed in those five minutes is never one which takes five minutes and in the process of doing that one, I get distracted by another one that needs to be done, and so on and so forth. True story. And still it seems my to do list is never ending? I don't even have kids...

I open my store everyday at around 10:15. I used to fight it, but I have surrendered. I'm on Nicole time, which I am sure is interpreted by many as crucian time. I can handle that. My day starts when I wake up at around 7 or 7:30 and I am working from home over breakfast and coffee, then there are the necessary stops and errands on my way into town to open up. I also generally stay at the shop later than 5 or 5:30 and when I do finally make it home for the evening - after theater, dance class, my second job or some other side project - I get back on the computer and start working all over again.

Nicole time is precious, certainly to me, and there seem to be several vying for it these days as well, myself included.

Mercury Turns Retrograde: in Taurus/ Gemini

2009-05-05T13:43:00.003-04:00

From astrology.com.

Mercury, the planet of communication, goes retrograde for the second time this year on May 6-7 (depending upon your time zone). Mercury normally turns retrograde three times a year - however, in 2009 Mercury turns retrograde four different times. The effects of each retrograde period differ depending on the sign in which it occurs. This time around, Mercury is turning retrograde in Gemini - its home base. Mercury is the ruler of Gemini!

Both Gemini and Mercury govern communications, the way we pick up information and process thoughts. Mercury rules thinking and perception, processing and disseminating information and all means of communication, commerce, education and transportation. Mercury retrograde gives rise to personal misunderstandings as well as flawed, disrupted or delayed communications, negotiations and trade glitches, and breakdowns with phones, computers, vehicles.

This retrograde period, step back from decision-making, agreements, contracts and use this review time to your benefit. Write down the pros and cons of everything since your mind will not settle on anything one hundred percent! When Mercury turns direct on May 30, you'll have greater clarity and are more likely to make good decisions. If possible, avoid buying communication-related products such as computers and phones. Keep receipts if you do. If you are traveling, double-check your reservations and bring a good book to read and plenty of games for the kids in case you are delayed. From late in the evening of May 13 through the end of the retrograde period, Mercury will be transiting the sign of Taurus, the sign ruling money. Decisions about investments and handling of finances should also be put off during this period.

Like any cosmic event, this retrograde affects each of us differently depending on how it's positioned in our personal birth charts. A Mercury retrograde period may be very prosperous for those who have retrograde Mercury, or a well-aspected Mercury, in their birth charts.

While a retrograde period may be an introspective time for all of us, if Gemini is prominent in your chart, you will have more than your usual share of introspection. Gemini is a mutable sign, so if other mutable signs - Pisces, Virgo, Sagittarius - are prominent in your chart, you will also experience a period of intense self-examination.

St. Croix International Triathlon - Ironman 70.3

2009-05-04T11:05:00.017-04:00

As part of experiencing the St. Croix I never have, with gentle nudging from my friend Steph Schoyer of Bohemian Rhapsody, I went to bed early on Saturday night and dragged my ass out of bed at 4:30am on Sunday morning to watch the St. Croix Ironman 70.3. Her promises of sexy men in spandex did not disappoint and on the way into town we were greeted with a beautiful sunrise... and eye-candy.
The excitement of the race was infectious! Throes of athletes from around the world all on our little island, doing what they love and have worked incredibly hard towards for eons. It still gives me chills just thinking about it. Plus, several members of our island family were participating in the sprint, or short course.

This is one of my best girlfriends, Amber. She did the sprint yesterday and finished looking like she was on top of the world! Yay, Amber!

I pulled out my little outdated digi-cam, but when Steph saw me she hissed at me to put it away and produced from her bag a fancy, real photographer's camera with a gi-mourmous lens. I was intimidated by it at first, but after a few hours and practice shots, I was in love. It was interesting to me to see the way people treat you when you have a fancy, real photographer's camera with a gi-nourmous lens. They must have thought I was someone important (duh! hello, I AM) and by association with the camera and Steph they surely did. A picture really is worth a thousand words, or more! I was able to capture moments it would take me days to express in words, perhaps I need all these different mediums with which to express the different voices of the artist inside. Yes, I think that's just it.

This is the best picture of the day for me; winner Tim ~~O'Gorgeous~~ O'Donnell shakes race coordinator Tom Guthrie's hand, with one of our most eccentric and dynamic vagabonds, one-legged-George (I still remember him when he had two legs) smiling like a fool and applauding in the background.

Simple Pleasures

2009-05-02T19:02:00.002-04:00

Sometimes the simplest things can invoke such a strong feeling of joy and bliss; the way a palm tree in the foreground of your vision sits against the lavishly colored sunset, the way the late afternoon sun hits the side of that house on the hill you've never noticed before, the scent of night blooming jasmine entangled with passion fruit delighting your nose, a cool Caribbean breeze tickling your bare skin, a cup of tea, an evening alone, a "room of one's own".

I've been very fortunate in the sense that I not only do well in pretty much everything I do, but to have always had enough to sustain me. In fact, more often than not in my adult life I have had a good bit of "disposable income". Apparently though, I disposed of it all. I try to take all the challenges and obstacles in my life and make them lessons, learning experiences and opportunities for personal growth and the current state of my finances is no exception. I'm spending smarter and taking pleasure in the simplicity.

"Manifest plainness,
Embrace simplicity,
Reduce selfishness,
Have few desires."
- Lao-Tzu, Tao Te Ching

these are the moments...

2009-04-30T22:53:00.010-04:00

Last Saturday evening, under the starry night sky, beside a glowing fire, with some of the most amazing women I know, I was introduced to the world of drum circles. Steve Turner of Giving Tree Music is one of those amazing, inspirational and dynamic individuals who moves you with his presence alone. He taught us that, "drumming is easy!" and warned us of an important rule, "if you aren't drumming, you'd better be dancing!"

We drummed and chanted and smiled at one another through the fire's flames and through our own tears. Our youngest drummer, age 4, started dancing, and a few followed suit. I was frightened at the prospect of dancing without choreography, and to music with which I wasn't familiar, but in an instant I saw a vivid picture in my mind - it was me, dancing freely in the fire's light, beneath the stars. The music filled my body, I've always said I don't listen to music, I FEEL it, and this was no exception. I felt the drum beats in my body and soul, I started slow but soon felt as if the music was moving me, it was beyond amazing. I didn't care who was watching me or who wasn't, I didn't care what the dance looked like, I lived in that moment and danced my heart out - un-choreographed, un-planned, just free. It was the best dance of my life, because it was for nobody else but me.

Our little drummer girl began to jump, simply jump up and down to the music and I liked that idea. I caught her eye and we began to jump together, one of my sisters, Lindsey, joined in as well and we jumped up and down together, in a circle, laughing, smiling, feeling. We were just three, 4-year-olds, having fun, being free and letting go. It was one of the best moments of my life.

The Buck-It List

2009-04-13T08:01:00.004-04:00

Kayak to Buck (check)
Get sun (check)
Get exercise (check)
Fall of kayak in front of cute boys (err... check)
SEE DOLPHINS FOR THE FIRST TIME AFTER LIVING HERE 15 YEARS (CHECK!)

Alcohol free April, Saturn and Nostalgia

2009-04-08T21:38:00.008-04:00

Today is day 8 of my sobriety. I am not sure how long a stint it will be, but for now I am going for a month. Alcohol free April. I am feeling great, clear-headed and working on getting back into dancing shape for the Spring Gala we at Pointe Dance are putting on first weekend in June. I've got two months, and I want to be in fantastic shape. After all, there is a chance this will be my last performance with PDA for awhile. My PCOS seems to be flaring up a bit, but I hope with enough good food, exercise and no booze, I can quiet that down.

Plans for my next step and the bigger picture are ever growing and changing. I will figure it out as I go, for once in my life I am okay without having a set-in-stone plan. I feel more free and positive than I have in awhile, perhaps ever. I know that the next step in my journey will be an exciting one, no matter what I choose to do. I am ready for some self-enrichment, looking to be re-inspired and discover new and different things. I going to cross each bridge as I come to it, and make the best decisions for me, allowing plenty of room for spontaneity and new experiences. It seems my Saturn return is taking place, and it is the best thing I have experienced in ages.

St. Croix, where do I begin. The more I accept that my days here are numbered, the more I love the island. In so many ways this feeling reminds me of the end of a relationship. There are so many memories, so many stories, so much of me here and so much of here in me. This is my island, it has made and broken me, and put me back together again. There will be much time for reflection, and many St. Croix stories to come. I have learned in the past few years to really appreciate this beautiful place and not take it for granted, now I think I savor each moment even a bit more.

This is a photo I took of St. Croix's west end from Captain Al's plane on our way back from a trip to Virgin Gorda, BVI. My mother treated me to a vacation there in October, to which she practically had to drag me kicking and screaming. Now I am really glad she made me go, it is a beautiful place. I'd like to see more of those (beautiful places and British Virgins)

This is mom, a picture I took on her birthday as we began the celebration at Ha'Penny beach. I am going kayaking to Buck Island on Friday with her and her hubby, weather permitting (it will) and I am going to see dolphins (I am).

"been here so long, think that it's time to move..."

2009-04-06T08:53:00.007-04:00

I have had the feeling for awhile now that this will be my last year on St. Croix. The details are still working themselves out, but the more I think about it, the more clear it all is. It is time for a new adventure and more self enrichment in a different setting. I am more ready than ever to begin living this beautiful life!
One way plane tickets are far less expensive. I love my island, and I am sure I will be back, but for now, it is time for something more than what this place can provide. I won't be limited and I won't settle. Thank you to a good, old friend who made me see this.

Sunset pictures of Ha'Penny and Frederiksted Country Club (Sarah & Clay day).

Cancer 2009 Forecast: Career

2009-04-05T20:05:00.002-04:00

On a whim, and with all the plans I am making and anticipated changes in my life this year, I decided to look up my yearly career forecast on astrology.com. This is the result:

"This year, use your inventive mind and strong intuitive powers to help make some necessary changes in your career. It's time to create harmony with things that haven’t quite reached your expectations, letting go of what you think are mistakes, and realizing that these are all stepping stones toward success. As you align yourself to your inner knowing and sharp business sense, your efforts will pay great rewards.

In the springtime, you will feel the urge to travel and connect with other cultures to help expand and enlighten your point of view, broadening your spiritual and intellectual values. Come summer, you may feel a bit introspective and choose to withdraw in order explore the subtle emotions and mystical depths of your being. Work in a mode of love and understanding of humanity, and in service to the life of the planet.

Prosperity is yours as you awaken to what is already inside of you. When you direct your emotions in a positive way, your fears will be released, allowing you to manifest what you want. The more you tap into universal knowledge, the more you are able to connect to your inherent power in a way you never dreamed possible. This is a time of great energy building, preparing you for the success coming in both your public and professional life. In your highest manifestation, your energy is invested in satisfying collective needs for the betterment of society.

Cruise toward professional bliss in 2009."

because sometimes you just have to, in spite of it all...

2009-04-03T11:58:00.004-04:00

St. Paddy's leftovers, this still makes me smile each time I look at it, remembering the good times and priceless memories made with friends old and new. Thanks, Gus :)

Photo idea inspired by Steph at bohemian rhapsody

Growing up or getting old?

2009-03-10T21:51:00.000-04:00

Yeah, something like that.

Reason #1: Things I once enjoyed no longer seem fun. I went out this weekend, for the first time in awhile where it wasn't just a quick post-Evita cameo. The Buzz's birthday bash at the Brew Pub was packed as hell, loud and drunk. Not really my scene anymore, give me a glass of wine at Zebo's or a martini at Tutto anyday.

Reason #2: I see a cute guy in the bar and realize he is ten years younger than me. FUCK. Do I still think I am 19? Or do I just have a thing for younger men? Okay don't answer that.

Reason #3: My body is changing, hurrah. Gravity is setting in, muscle tone and skin elasticity aren't what they used to be... *sigh* guess it is time I start really taking care of myself, before I start to look my age. At least people still pretend I look like I am in my early 20's.

Reason #4: I am looking forward to things like buying my own place and establishing a real identity, rather than the next party and what I'll be doing this weekend.

Reason #5: I am in bed by 10 if not earlier most nights. Yes I am headed there now.

The best part though, is that I can finally deal with all of the above, laugh at it, and know that I wouldn't go back to the younger version of myself, because I wouldn't know nearly what I do now.

Night.

Heavy Hearted

2009-03-10T08:14:00.000-04:00

My girlfriend gets married in two days, and I am happy as could be for her. I can't wait to watch her marry the man she loves. I am not a fan of weddings and as the day nears, I have a feeling watching this marriage will be harder than expected.

Seven years ago I got married and my life changed in ways I never expected. I learned a lot from my marriage, and I think I am still learning from the experience and about the experience everyday. Perhaps this is what has me in a funk. I am confused, confused about love and romance, complicated by the unrealistic fantasy of it all that we are sold by the media. Strip away the glitz and what is it really about? Something we all define for ourselves. What the hell is that?

Questioning the status quo is good, necessary. I am just confused and overwhelmed by the scale of it all. It seems everyone wants love, and honestly I fear it so much that perhaps I have convinced myself that I don't want it and don't need it. I have had several conversations lately about this very subject and it all adds to my confusion and search for answers. We put our everything into our first loves, and I don't think we will ever give that much of ourselves to another person again. Being the all or nothing girl I am, I just wonder if I will ever be able to give myself again at all.

A picture really is worth a thousand words. I can stare into this picture and see so much. The girl is beautiful, but hurting, broken-hearted. This photo makes me want to cry for her. However this day changed everything, good and bad, I just have to believe it is all leading up to something bigger.

Perfectionism

2009-03-10T07:54:00.000-04:00

"In the pursuit of perfection, we set ourselves up for failure because of the very nature of the goal." - me

This is so true isn't it? The quest for perfection is debilitating in so many ways. There is that desire to do everything so well, so consistently, in every area of our lives. Of course we are all human, and therefore perfection is an unreasonable expectation, but it certainly doesn't keep so many of us from seeking it. No wonder that those of us who call ourselves perfectionists are never satisfied, we will never reach this unrealistic goal and therefore will always be failing in our own eyes. We will never, ever be good enough.

I have spent years trying to be good enough for other people and never feeling I am, when in many cases that was far from true, in reality I was never good enough for myself.

That is my goal, to be good enough for me, but can I unlearn the vicious cycle of perfectionism in order to let myself just be?

Clean Air

2009-02-28T19:30:00.000-05:00

I have found that I am a person who is easily influenced by the energy of others. I pick up on vibes, if you will. I tend to acquire feelings of negativity, neediness, anxiety, fear, nerves and the like. Today, I found myself getting worked up during a "quick" stop at K-mart and felt like I had blown the positive mood I woke up in this morning. However, the moment I turned the corner on the road that takes me from the Sunny Isle area to South Shore Road, I felt immediately lighter. The sky was brilliant, the water becoming visible was sparkling, perfect clouds dotted the sky and the air just felt untainted by negative energy. The feeling was a familiar one, the turn onto South Shore road always makes me smile. I drive down the mostly straight, mostly smooth, quiet strip that takes me to Ha'penny beach, winding along the shoreline, music filling the air and the rush of the Caribbean air whipping through my open windows. It is my haven, my escape. My beach time makes the rest of the world disappear, clears my mind and grounds me again. It is a beautiful thing.

Now if only I could buy this beautiful piece of real estate on Ha'penny beach.

This morning I didn't wake up singing Evita songs...

2009-02-25T17:45:00.000-05:00

I woke up singing this song, "Chasing Cars" by Snow Patrol.

We'll do it all
Everything
On our own

We don't need
Anything
Or anyone

If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you lie with me
And just forget the world?

I don't quite know
How to say
How I feel

Those three words
Are said too much
They're not enough

If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you lie with me
And just forget the world?

Forget what we're told
Before we get too old
Show me a garden
That's bursting into life

Let's waste time
Chasing cars
Around our heads

I need your grace
To remind me
To find my own

If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you lie with me
And just forget the world?

Forget what we're told
Before we get too old
Show me a garden
That's bursting into life

All that I am
All that I ever was
Is here in your perfect eyes
They're all I can see

I don't know where
Confused about how as well
Just know that these things
Will never change for us at all

If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you lie with me
And just forget the world?

I just managed to get salad dressing in my eye. That, my friends, is talent.

It's National Eating Disorder Awareness Week

2009-02-25T11:59:00.000-05:00

February 22-28 is National Eating Disorder Awareness week. In recent years it seems that eating disorders have seen more attention in the form of after school specials and the more current "fad" of teenagers and young women who choose dysfunctional eating styles as a way of life – just as they choose their style of dress. I’ve scanned various news articles and first hand accounts of eating disorder sufferers over the past few days, and I am disappointed that the myths about eating disorders still run so rampant. Perhaps it is like the subject of sexual assault, most people don’t want to think about it or know about it until they have a reason to – generally when it has touched their lives through personal experience or that of someone close. In the same way, too many people seem to put eating disorders off as a "middle to upper class teenage girls’ problem." I don’t quite fit into that box, but my battle with an eating disorder began a long time ago, before there were Lifetime movies about them, before the pro-ana and mia websites and when the Olsen twins, the poster children for this frighteningly glamorized "lifestyle", were still child stars on a television sit com.

I have read first hand accounts of eating disorder sufferers, most of which begin with, "I’ve suffered with an eating disorder since I was…" For me, the truth is that I don’t know when it began. I remember my mother once confessing to my step-sister, who was doing an elementary school report on fears, that her biggest fear was getting fat, always obsessing about her weight as most American women do. Through some odd twist of fate, I was enrolled in ballet classes despite my desire to take karate. My upbringing and eventual life experiences were peppered with the stuff that perfectionist complexes, and also eating disorders, stem from. No surprise that at nearly 30 years old, every day is still a struggle for me.

Of all the insults I have received in my life, none hurt more deeply, nor stay with me to this day like those, "you’re gaining weight," "you’ve put on a few pounds," or the local versions unique to the West Indian culture, "you’re getting fat," and "you’re looking thick/ healthy." You can call me anything, poke fun at me for anything, except my weight. Any comment hit me like a knife to my stomach, the thought of gaining an ounce enough to send me into a frenzy. I’ve spent years of my life in various dance studios in various cities, town and islands, surrounded by mirrors and stick thin teenagers. My body type is not one ideal for ballet, I’ve only once in my adult life hit the "ideal dancer’s weight of 114", but my talent has always made up for that. I’ve picked apart my physical flaws for years this way, spending even more hours in front of my home mirrors to figure out just which position makes me look the thinnest, which hairstyle, which outfit, which color (for years there were no clothes in my closet which were not black). I’ve been praised for eating cucumber slices for lunch, been made an example of when at my thinnest, had my photos used in print media and advertising. Alternately, when heavier, I’ve found myself excluded from dance numbers solely based on my body, ignored in classes and passed by when candy is handed out on the final day of semesters, humiliated in front of my peers and their parents when asked if I would rather carry around a purse that weighed 10 pounds, everyday, everywhere, or if I would rather not have the burden of such a purse. The piece de resistance; being asked to sign a legal contract which would grant me acceptance into a highly ranked and prestigious dance company’s program, contingent upon me losing a minimum of 10 pounds. I was 17 years old.

An addiction of sorts, eating disorders are most difficult in that the substance involved in this addiction is one that we need to live. It is not cigarettes, alcohol or drugs which can be avoided altogether when attempting recovery. In that sense those of us who suffer must play with fire each and every day of our lives. I’ve tried about every fad diet and diet product. Going to the grocery store or looking at a restaurant menu are enough to cause a panic attack. I obsess over everything that passes my lips, and think twice about my activity level for the next day/ week before making any food decision. My closet is still full of clothes ranging in size from 4 to 10, because my weight has never remained the same for any period of time longer than six months. I have, at not yet 30 years old, done serious damage to my body as a result of striving for this type of perfection.

I am getting there. It is time to start thinking about the long term, and about my health and my life.

One.Day.At.A.Time.

At still close to the heaviest I have been in my life, I allowed myself to be photographed like this.

Lyrics: Breathe Me by Sia

2009-02-14T20:52:00.000-05:00

I have fallen absolutely IN LOVE with this song. I first heard it on the season finale of my all time favorite television series, Six Feet Under. It was paired with such a beautiful montage that I cried when I watched it, and cried again every time I have watched it since. I heard the song the other day while listening to pandora, and had to download it for myself. I checked out the lyrics today, amazing as well.

I may have to use this for future choreography - this song reminded me of a song by Zero 7 that is on the Garden State movie soundtrack, which is also awaiting some of my choreography. Interestingly enough, Sia used to work with Zero 7. Ahhh, sweet synchronicity.

"Help, I have done it again
I have been here many times before
Hurt myself again today
And, the worst part is there's no-one else to blame

Be my friend
Hold me, wrap me up
Unfold me
I am small
and needy
Warm me up
And breathe me

Ouch I have lost myself again
Lost myself and I am nowhere to be found,
Yeah I think that I might break
Lost myself again and I feel unsafe

Be my friend
Hold me, wrap me up
Unfold me
I am small
and needy
Warm me up
And breathe me

Be my friend
Hold me, wrap me up
Unfold me
I am small
and needy
Warm me up
And breathe me"

Saying goodbye...

2009-02-14T19:30:00.000-05:00

I consider myself fortunate to live on such a beautiful and unique island. In this small community, it is hard to retain anonymity. This is concerning for some, not so much for others. Doing what I do, I meet a lot of people, some I really cannot stand, some I can take or leave and some always bring a smile to my face because of the complex and interesting people they are. One of my long time customers, a women who would bring me her old jewelry to repair, passed away in January. I rarely read the obituaries, but on this one particular Sunday, I did, and found that the little lady who called herself "Tommy" had died.

It made my heart heavy, though she was 85 years old. Always in good spirits when she would come in with her various pieces for cleaning or reparation, she never forgot my name, as she had a granddaughter named Nicole. I would even see her drive by the shop from time to time, and she would always look in and wave.

People pass on and we don't get to say our goodbyes sometimes, but I knew she was someone I would remember for years to come. Not long ago, a lady brought in some pieces of jewelry for repair and being as busy as I was, told her I couldn't finish them before she left, but upon inspection of the items I changed my mind telling her I could probably squeeze her jobs in. I am still unsure why I made such an exception - not something I normally do. As I wrote up the repair slip I recognized the woman's last name. Rijos. She was here for her mother's funeral. The pieces I was repairing were those of my old friend "Tommy". Well now in hindsight I see why something pushed me to make the exception.

I told her of how much I enjoyed her mother, how she always brought a smile to my face and how she spoke of her granddaughter Nicole. As I repaired her jewelry again - and for possibly the last time - I felt as though I was able to say my goodbyes to Ms. Rijos.

Upon reading the obituary again, I realized that one of her grandsons, Micah is performing in Evita with me. What a small world, and island, indeed.

Earth, wind, water and brush fire...

2009-02-14T18:19:00.000-05:00

I took today off, as this is a busy weekend for "Evita", with three performances; Friday and Saturday nights, and then a Sunday matinee. Being sober, I went home early last night and woke up at a decent hour this morning. First there were errands to be done, then I headed out to my beach, Ha'penny, for a walk and a little relaxation.

It was an absolutely gorgeous day, and I felt delight throughout my body as I walked down the white sand beach. Perhaps there is love in the air, being Valentine's Day and all, but for whatever reason, I felt beyond ecstatic. The sun warmed my bare skin (I have taken to wearing strapless tops to even out tan lines when I walk) and the delicious Caribbean breeze tickled it - not too cold and not to warm - balmy, perfect. I walked along the water's edge as always and looked down at my feet as the gentle waves came up to meet them. I almost had to pinch myself, this is really my life.

On my way back however, I noticed smoke coming from somewhere else on the South Shore. I listened to some southern sounding tourists decide that the oil refinery was on fire, laughing to myself as I knew full well the refinery was further off, and if it was in fact burning like that, we all may as well kiss our asses goodbye. It was about time for me to head out, stopping on my way back to the car to snap a photo. I thought about leaving the camera at home today, and was glad I didn't. The route I took as I left the beach took my right by the fire, a good half of South Shore road was blocked off my the fire trucks, but I was turning to head over to the North Shore anyway. Heading over towards the north, I saw what had already burned as well as patches of flames here and there along the open fields of the south shore. I pulled out my camera to get some photos, I don't think the car behind me was too keen on that, however. A bit further up I stopped again, as there was a decent sized bush on fire and I could not pass in my lane. I thought to take a picture, but as the smell, heat and lapping flames drew closer - my heart beating harder in my chest and the adrenaline beginning to pump through my body - I decided it was a better idea to put down the camera and get the hell outta dodge.

The South Shore experiences such fires frequently, especially during dry spells. Over ten years ago nearly the entire shoreline caught fire, I remember driving down the road at night and feeling like I was in an IMAX film, totally unreal.