Making your dreams come true… part 7…


I love her, especially the reading glasses!

Originally posted on Pouring My Art Out:

My friend, jatwood4, over at:    also has dreams of being a mermaid… it seems to be a very popular dream… I did the best I could with her tiny gravatar picture…

a 1 a 3

And of course it is always problematic when you try to paint a ladies’ green… but I did the best I could.

View original

Catching Up

Hello,  my friends and readers.  So much has happened in the last few weeks.  I don’t know where to start20140403_115731.

I am staying here at Mom’s house.  My surgery was a little more complicated vs. what my doc and I expected.  I am going to try to add a photo.  The darker places on my arm are mostly bruises.  The scar extends into my armpit. This Frankensteinian masterpiece occurred when my surgeon was creating a fistula for dialysis, although I am not going to need it.

While I do my best not to overwork my arm, Mom’s preparing for her other knee surgery.  I would be over here on the 7th, anyway, so I decided to stay here.  No sense at all, moving my stuff for two days.  We are all hoping for an uncomplicated procedure and a very quick recovery.  Best wishes, Mom!

I love painting, and I put brush to canvas board as often as I can.  I started with supplies from Mom, which now, I am augmenting with purchasesof my own.  Last weekend, my sister M. sent me some much finer paints than the student-grade medium I use now.

My traveling buddy and I reserved our quarters on the Norwegian Sun, leaving Tampa, FL, on 10/26.  We started talking about doing this in 2012. I have saved money ever since.  Now, I believe it will happen!

I know I have more to write, but this is what I got out today.  More catching-up coming soon.


I am proud and pleased to announce the marriage, yesterday, of my nephew, J. and his wife, M. i wish for you a life that is interesting, full of feeling, and balanced as evenly as it can be.  My love and hopes are with you.  Congratulations!

Cenotes — Sacred Waters


I searched a long time to show you this — years. I hope you enjoy the reblog.  Click to enlarge the photo.

At last, a photo of a tiny fraction of my underground beach -- way in the back. Image Courtesy:  Google Images

At last, a photo of a tiny fraction of my underground beach — way in the back.
Image Courtesy: Google Images

Originally posted on Diabetic Redemption:

When I was 37, I went to the Yucatan for a week.  While I was there, I registered for a day trip to visit four cenotes (se-NO-tays.)  Cenotes are openings to underground fresh water, filtered through limestone, and crystal clear.  Cenotes were the only source of fresh water for the Mayans of the Yucatan.  But some divers have found, far back in the systems of caves, ritual offerings such as beads and jewelry, and even human remains, (only bones, no disintegrating bodies.)

We walked back into the jungle, and came to a hole in the ground with stairs leading down.  I had my snorkeling gear, and we swam into the cave.  While my group snorkeled around on the surface, we could see divers exploring the bottom, which, we were told, was 60 feet deep.  I felt like I could just reach down and touch them.  Amazing.

We came around a…

View original 193 more words

Blog Housekeeping

I find myself in the disturbing state, over the last several days, of no inspiration.  Just some housekeeping notes.

1.  I see that I have several new readers whom I haven’t welcomed personally.  I am very happy to have you with us.  Please follow the link on this page to go to my Friends page. My readers, blogger or not, leave information about themselves and their blogs or their lives.  I hope you will all do the same.  Welcome.

2.  I am not reading or writing much right now — my energy is in painting.  But I will be back.  Please allow me some latitude now, and I know I will come back stronger than ever, with new ways to look at things.  Thanks for you patience.  Love to all of you.

History and Self-Hypnosis

I wrote this over a week ago, but it still pertains.

I spent some of the last couple of evenings recounting in my mind the medical procedures I have undergone.  You see, I met with my vascular surgeon on Tuesday, and we discussed surgery to create a fistula for possible future hemodialysis.  An ultrasound technician looked at both of my arms, and the doctor decided that he will likely use my right arm.  He wanted to schedule the surgery immediately — I resisted, and told him I didn’t want to do anything any sooner than I have to.

My surgical history, and that of my entire medical life, proves one thing — I am a slave to suggestion.  Before my bypass surgery, the doctor talked to me for an hour about possible complications.  Sure enough, when the surgery was over, I wasn’t out for a day before I went back.  The surgeon drained 500 ml of fluid from around my heart.  I had developed a staph infection in my sternum.

Following the first thoracic surgery, to clean the infection from my sternum, I was stapled shut and admitted for observation.  Within a couple of days, everyone who saw me knew that the infection worsened, rather than retreating.  Over the course of the next seven weeks, I underwent two more thoracic surgeries, and finally, ( I think,) the doctor opened my chest, put me in a coma for a couple of weeks.  None of these methods worked, and finally he decided that e would remove my sternum all together, and schedule a plastic surgeon to connect my ribs with a muscle flap taken from my abdomen.

This post includes only the highlights of those two months, because I don’t remember very clearly what happened from day to day.  After I recovered, my mother and my sister S. told me that I evidenced every symptom the doctor mentioned as possibilities.  Since then, I have seen this happen many times — but I never understood why some part of me was facilitating painful symptoms, negative emotions, all kinds horrible outcomes.

With the help of my sister, S., I discovered Abraham-Hicks’ Law of Attraction.  After stripping away the “woo-woo” aspect, the law explains what I was doing.  I was almost constantly paying attention to the worst possible outcome of any situation.  I left no room at all for any kind of positive growth.  And I lived that way since 1974 — a very long time.