I M Perfect lady

Category: Crusade

  • Where it is wanted.

    Today I was once again, or I was STILL reviewing the two events on Saturday; one a beautiful wedding and the other the collision of estrangement..my family of origin and I…many I hadn't seen face to face in almost 9 years.  

    The two events couldn't be further apart in sentiment and energy and yet they were being played out in real time one on top of the other.

    These two events were mostly being felt by my estranged family and I.  The rest of the guests came only to one party…or so I think.

    I wonder, if all weddings and funerals and other life celebrations have this double gathering?

    On one hand social niceties would be expected…and the other cool detachment of estrangement…some expecting a forced nice.

    I also suspect the same double life exists in many families….where abuse is hidden behind the normal activities of life.  

    Where you are supposed to put aside your differences and party on.

    It seems so inauthentic and a loss of ground or being encroached upon.

    This also feels like my first 46 years of life, whereas you would just ignore and play friendly with folks who you had negative feelings towards.  Put your feelings aside and please people…in order to keep the party or normal life going.

    Perhaps the wedding with estranged guests mirrors exactly a dysfunctional life.

    Where the 'negatives' come to the party, but we all mingle and pretend all is well with thee.

    My post traumtic feelings, or high anxiety and repugnent feelings are to be put back into that same energy field.

    What I also felt helpless about, and I know this has to be true for most children of abuse, IS that I DIDN'T WANT TO BE THE ONE TO RUIN THE WEDDING. 

    Like it was Me who invited them….or me who ignited the hostile feelings…etc.  Me who wouldn't pretend is the party pooper.

    We dont' have to wonder about why it is so tough for a child to stand up against abuse…for it is pretty tough to be the lone ranger and be made to feel it is your fault for the turmoil.  If I would only 'let it go' and 'forgive and move on' we would all be one big happy family. 

    Where there didn't have to be separate parties.

    Where all would feel free to come and go.

    The reason most dysfunctional families continue to flourish, is that very few will stop attending functions or life celebrations…they 'bury the hatchet' and get back in the social graces…and before you know it life returns to 'normal' and the abuse is like it never existed.

    But it did.

    It not only did, but it is continuing on.  Just because you have buried your memories or the feelings and rage, or forgiven it, it doesn't mean it has disappeared.  It will come back.  

    The legacy of abuse is that when you return to family as usual, when things are back as they were before, it means, the little ones are once again in harms way.  You have not taken the steps to eliminate the threat of abuse.

    I know they believe that since my father is dead, abuse has died…that the children are now safe.

    It is not.  

    Our family had abuse coming in from all angles….inside the house, inside the relatives and inside of the neighborhood.  Abuse flourished in our relationship for over 40 years…due to the exact behaviors I see now.

    Abuse knows which families to visit and which ones will be harder to penetrate.

    I see the deck stacked with folks who are so unaware of what evil even is….and who allow anyone near their children…I see my mother in many of them. 

    As they think I am the biggest enemy or the one to keep away from….abuse sneaks in closer, becoming friendly…accepted by the adults. And adults unaware.

    It isn't IF abuse will strike again, but when and from where?

    It is like watching a train wreck about to happen…while the adults are busy being sisters….being family by overlooking the very thing that is feeding upon the little ones.

    And, there is nothing I can do to stop it.

    They keep seeing me as the problem, when I am trying to be the impetus for change….to stop the legacy of abuse.

    Abuse/perpetrators love that they are looking at me as the problem for it leaves no eyes on them.

    My family of origin had abuse coming from all angles, because the level of people my parents were attracted to were of the same kind…if you overlook and excuse abuse, abuse will follow you…and be your friend.  It only stays where it is wanted.

    "The highest treason a crab can commit is to make a leap for the rim of the bucket." Steven Pressfield

     

  • Define as Love.

    My behaviors seem odd, strange and a bit dramatic, IF you can't see the reasons for why I act this way.  

    I can understand the confusion, for I went along with the show for 46 years and then, all of a sudden, I saw or felt or became aware of the insults to my soul…when another little girl spoke of being abused by my father…I saw her…and me….and him.

    What I had once called family and normal, was now the complete opposite.

    I now see, you can't act different, UNLESS you see different.

    What I know for sure, is that they will be upset with me as long as they are okay with her (mother). 

    This somehow makes me feel better.

    Of course they would get angry at me and have expectations of me being a daughter and a sister, when they can't see/feel the actions of abuse.  

    I become the irrational one, the odd acting weird one. 

    What really is unreal, is that all kinds of characters will fit into this group, anyone is welcome who see it as family. And, not a dysfunctional family, but family. Although, this switches from time to time.  

    I was told I am not the only victim of sexual abuse in the family.

    But, I am also told that they are not dyfunctional and they don't like to be labeled as such.  

    It is like a White Family not wanting to be seen as white, really.  

    What I love the most, is that they characters within the family can't not act normal, their dysfunction keeps showing.  And yet, I am the odd one for saying it is so.

    Not only saying it, but backing away from it…and not calling it love, family or kind.

    I became dysfunctional in the family of dysfunction.

    In the family of dysfunction; you have no say.

    You have no needs.

    What you say doesn't matter.

    No one sees you…or your pain. 

    And no matter what someone does to you, you stay.

    The "Family" matters more than the individual and her needs.

    If and when sexual abuse or neglect or verbal abuse arrives, you are to look the other way…tuck it down deep and keep the family alive.

    Pardon the mother's words…for she is mental.

    Excuse the father's actions….for he is sick.

    Overlook a sister's anger…for she doesn't mean it.

    Overlook, pardon and excuse any negative behaviors to keep the family running smooth. Don't notice and nothing is wrong…or notice but don't act upon it.

    "Thank God for all that we have and that we are all here together".…in family.

    You either stay in deaf and blind….or you are out. 

    I still feel better it isn't that they can't see the abuse, but that they can't tolerate my healthy or new response to it.

    I believe they are all aware (subconsciously) of the swirling energies of neglect and awkward movements and are still working hard to make it a family.

    I know how hard this can be.  I did it.  I too worked like hell to shore up the deficiencies my parents had…until I became to exhausted, tired and plum wore out.

    I stopped.

    I stopped trying to make them anything but what they were.

    I didn't dress up by over compensating for their negative actions.

    I let them just be.

    And, the family broke and dysfunction lay littered everywhere.

    I didn't have a speck of energy to pretend to pretend to pretend to be a daughter or sister…in that mess.  

    It wasn't me that started it and it will not be me that ends it.

    All I could do was save myself and undo and redefine what is love and kindness.

    I leave them on the porch, believing that they are family.

    They see me as leaving a family.

    I see me as leaving dysfunction and sexual and physical and verbal abuse.

    We see each other from own perspective…and with what we define as love.


     

  • Remains the Same

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    For the past few days I have sat in Reflection…allowing myself to process and feel the events…the encounters or the lack thereof…to see what is what or what is not.

    What I failed to consider, oddly, is how others see me and/or speak of me…and in my mother's case, tell lies about me.  

    It boggles my mind, that while I have been pointing out the things my parents did or the things my siblings did…I couldn't understand why they were so unaware of the changes in themselves.  When in fact, they have not changed at all.  I have.

    I am the only one who has changed and they are upset by this.

    My father remained unchange to the end.

    My mother too is staying completely in character of herself.  Nothing has changed. She never took my side as a child.  She still lies about my actions now. She is not a newer version of herself…she is the same lady that was with me as a child.

    I have been trying to show others in my writings an abusive mother…like it is something new.  I can't.  She is as she has always been this way.

    I had wondered why so many are upset with Me and not her.  How they couldn't see the abusive parts.  When I was asking them to see what they have always seen and called normal.

    My mother has not changed a bit…so they love/like and are still loyal to the one mother.

    They are upset with me, because I am no longer my self.  

    I am different.

    I respond different.

    I seen the picture of them all on a porch surrounding my mother…and it puzzled me. I couldn't understand how they could support this woman who is abusive.  But, they are unable to see the abuse for they were raised in.  Like white on rice.  I was asking them to see something that has always been there.

    How can you.

    The reason they see me and are enraged and angered by me, Is that I am not like the old self.  I am completely different. 

    I just didn't get that the only thing changed in our dysfunctional family was me.

    Everyone and every thing else continued on as if nothing happened. And, they are keeping a spot open in case I change my mind.  I am the one who has fallen out of step, gotten out of line, the rest are all the same and okay.

    How did I miss this???

    How did I not know that the reason I am on their shit list is not because I see my mother as abusive or that my father is a pedophile.  It is because I no longer move like one of them.

    It has never been about my parents.

    It has only been about me.

    Their sights are on me because I am acting different.  NOT because WHY I am acting different.  Or for the simple fact that my parents were not who they said they were.

    They are okay with two-sidedness. They are not okay with me doing things differently.  Even if different is right.

    Doing what is right is wrong IF it isn't what my mother would do.

    Their choices are not about doing what is right.

    The only choices are what will keep my mother looking normal.

    And, they are willing and very able to toss anyone aside who doesn't play along.

    The only way my mother is normal is when a porch full of people believe her to be…or do not challenge her actions and words.

    And, the only way I am wrong, is that same porch full believing that I am. 

    What I also just didn't know, is the messed up mother in the center of the porch, IS the very one who speaks wrongly of me.

    This is what families of dysfunction do. They put the blame of abuse upon the one who is innocent and never look at the parent and see their wrongness.

    What I know for sure, is that my mother alone couldn't tear me down, it took all the folks standing around her to agree.

    They all agree that I am wrong…no matter what she does, I am wrong for how I respond. 

    Especially if it means shaking the foundation of the family…the family only stands if everyone remains the same.


  • A roar

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    WIND Ladies took in the Clothesline Project…we who are trying to create a movement…and in order to do that we need movement.


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    It doesn't mean helping the broken….it means stopping the ones who break others by abusing them.  What we call "Prevention" is to educate the potential victims in how to protect themselves.  Instead we need to begin treating the abusers AS abusers and the ones doing the hurt and stop calling them "family" or "Friend".

    Most of us keep looking out into the community for help when it begins in each of your relationships.  Each time you overlook an act of violence you are contributing to the problem.  It is time we empower or over power the abusers by calling them out.  Speak their names….refuse to call them father/brother/uncle and friend!

    You teach people how to treat you….are you teaching Violence and Abuse is okay?


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    Silence and inaction with abuse WILL NOT bring an end to violence, but is actually participating with indifference. 

    I am not sure we can end violence with prayer and kindness, for if it was helpful, the abusers would be 'healed'.  They are not stopped by words and awareness, they are only stopped when you remove yourself and others from their grasps…..and to speak their name.  

    As I walked along the clothesline, I was struck with the ineffectiveness this project truly has….The words were brilliant, the messages clear…but they don't seem to make people move.  I understand the intentions, but wonder about the actual response….will they make people move away from abusers in their worlds???


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    I guess it all has to start somewhere….it begins with a whisper and eventually works itself to a roar!  

  • The other end of abuse!

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    The last time I saw my mother, I felt inside…what is pictured above.  A small woman in comparison to the world, and especially in her presence. A woman without a voice, a choice.  When I walked into her home, three months after my father's arrest, I felt like above.  I was not used to using my voice….and certainly not with her.

    I did use it though.  I said what I needed to say.  I stood my ground.  And began the the journey or my growing into my self.

    As I picture myself in an encounter with her, I forgot to remember, I am no longer the woman/child I was over 8 years ago.  

    Who I am today isn't the small diminitive woman on the first quilts, or the terrified woman standing against her mother, while standing up for herself.

    I wasn't articulate that last meeting. I was on the verge of or in the middle of a break down.  A break down of my old "pleasing self" and the small image I had of me…breaking into my own power.

    I don't believe, I will easily be reduce in size by seeing her now after all the work I have done on me…..but I will instead find my strong inner sense of self.

    I will arrive at the wedding…as I feel in my latest quilts.  Large, bright and filled with great energy….a woman who knows her own strengths!


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    What else I have standing behind me and besides me, is the Health community; from Dial Help, the Houghton County Sheriff, and Copper Country Mental health and a wealth of women who like I, have found our way out of abuse.  

    I am not the woman/child whose self esteem was barely on the scale….

    Today I stand on the other end of abuse!

  • Who they are…

    I was hesitant to do yoga…for I thought I would be overwhelmed with sorrow or sadness, that my disappointment of my family would take over each pose.  But, nothing happened, like that.  I was strong and had balance and flexibility.

    It came to me that the road of Estrangement is not ever going to be easy to navigate, but like a tough yoga pose, if you breathe and focus, you can get through it.

    Estrangement from family who you left due to their behaviors…will not change their behaviors, because you left. 

    In fact, the very nature of my mother is and always has been to disregard what is good for her child…and her grandchildren. That IS why I am estranged from her.

    There is also something about skipping me and her wanting to see her granddaughter, like a skip in a record….she wants to continue to sing her song…going to a believing ear and by passing one who is on to her.

    How like abuse.

    To find an easier target.

    I know, my non-supporters, believe I am adding drama, for it simply is "just a grandma wanting to be at her granddaughter's wedding for pete's sake.  Do you have to drag abuse into every occasion, can't you just let it go and forgive and Move ON!"

    It is 'just a grandma' that I do have issues with…as we all well know.

    She is anything but, "just a grandma".

    Her getting to play the role of "just a grandma" tags her as innocent and those of my father's victims….as guilty.

    Will a Guilty Grandma Arrive?

    Hardly.

    She will come in fully blessed and forgiven and right as rain….with all the grandma rights restored.

    The simple wiping away of her contribution of so many girls being abuse over a period of 40 plus years…leaves the victims standing in a very awkward position…she is right as rain, but we are not.

    The walk of estrangement from her seems odd if she is innocent.  It only works if she is the one who actively created a home where little girls were directed to his lap…the lap of a pedophile.

    Sometimes it does seem like I may be overreacting, that I may be a drama queen…until she reminds me once again why I walked away.

    It also came to me, that the wedding guest list began a long time ago….when I gave my child the right to choose who she would have relationships with.  Allowing her to be with folks I walked away from. Now, both worlds will collide….

    I will have to suck up my awkwardness and dread for the sake of my child.

    What also strikes me…is that the reason I walked away was for the good of my child and now the reason I walk back in is on her wedding day.

    One thing I know for sure, is that the toughest parts on the path of estrangement are the places where you see your true strength and character….and you also get a crystal clear view of who they are. 


     

     

  • I know the difference.

    Ever since I heard my mother is coming, as well more siblings than I had originally thought; I have been in a state of Dread.

    I had to look up Dread, to make sure I have the correct meaning.

    "To anticipate with great apprehension or fear."

    It seems these feelings have the ability to overcrowd the ones of Love and Joy I have for my daughter and her wedding day.  

    Where the past's characters are taking up way too much room…overshadowing any other emotions…unwanted guests in my mind.

    What I can see from so many vantage points is the life of an abused child.

    How, the light-hearted joyful emotions are an easily overrun by fear and dread…

    I can see how normal life events are eclipsed easily and you are not left living in a space of Light…or even this moment of time.

    And, this is just the anticipation of the collision.  Not, even the actual event.

    Again, in a child's life, waiting for the next encounter with their abuser(s)….how it consumes your world.

    What I am watching is my mind playing with scenarios.  Planning exits stragedies, etc..all unknown.

    Yet known.

    My body remembers how it feels in their space.

    It isn't jumping for joy, but bogged down in dread.

    I am being asked to walk among them again…and it feels like a walk back into the known dysfunction.

    I understand enough, that when I am 'asked' or forced by the Universe, when there isn't a choice, it means something for my soul…another growth spurt.

    In this fear and dread is a big peice of my Self.

    By walking forward, I will meet her.

    A long walk back into my estranged family's presence…to embrace another part of me.

    What I know, is that I have to feel this.

    I have to walk forward in order to gain another layer of strength…for IF I can do this, the world opens up a bit wider.

    I will enter into the family spaces a different woman.  I have words that I can articulate and the strength to say them. 

    My resolve to be present and graceful at my daughter's wedding is already being practiced…in how I continue forward with the party prep, knowing the pitfalls it now holds.

    The day will be what I pay attention to.

    Each come with an intention in mind..

    I can't know their reasons or the choices that were made in their worlds…their being there is their business, not mine.  

    What I do know, is that the dread seems less today or perhaps my resistance. I also know, I have traversed many side-roads that were not easy; but were amazing in how I gained wisdom about me and even the other person and/or event.

    What I know for sure, is without my estrangement or walking away from dysfunction, there would not be another side of this wedding; but one.

    There would not be a collision, but a union.

    No contrast.

    No polar opposites to the dread.

    No awareness to the evil that denial breeds.

    No feelings inside of me.

    No complete and utter freedom to know love, peace and joy.

    Because I walked out, there are now two worlds.  Two sides….I see the Light and have experienced the dark.  I know the difference.


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    Me and a Copper Country Mental Health Board Member….at my "Meet the Artis."

     




     


  • A New Play

    I think I thought I had to prepare to be different. Prepare to change. Prepare to move backwards, to undo, un-think, un-act.  Prepare to undo the authenticity, to no longer be the me that I have uncovered in the painful excavating as I delved into the reality of being raised steeped in so many layers of dysfunction….that somehow, I had to prepare to cover all that I had uncovered; about Me.

    That standing in the truth of me; will be unacceptable. 

    And, perhaps those expecting the old covered up and hidden abuse girl, will be disappointed. The pretending and hiding of feelings will not happen.  The old me is dead.

    Her ghost is what perhaps I fear arriving.  For the old me was loved and accepted….the new me was not.

    My words were not believed…

    Oh, they would tell you they believe me, that they THINK, just like me….but, it is the actions that have the last say.  

    They have never not stopped acting like a family.

    A 'loving' family…even against reality.  It is the staged act that fights with my reality.

    What I know is how you are treated IF you don't appear on the Family Stage, if you refuse to utter the scripted lines, if you are unable to hit the correct marks on stage…I then become the 'wrong' one.

    I am the one moving out of sync.

    It feels like a family tsunami is arriving; a full cast of characters in complete family costumes…orchestrated from long long ago, and none of my lines and movements are choreographed in.  I will be the one actor whose lines are from a different play.

    How I move and what I say will not fit into the play of "family".

    That I am the odd character…

    The one who refuses to "get in Line".  

    Like I crashed a Long Running Theatrical play, purposefully to ruin it.

    And, in a way I have. Well I tried at first to use my new Lines….but they were not accepted or heard.  So, I left the stage….walked out of the theater.  And, now the old play is coming to town. The show is back. The stage is heading my way.

    I used to have dreams of trying to get the words out, and I simply could not use my throat and mouth, they seemed frozen….and no matter how hard I tried to speak, nothing left my mouth. My words unspoken.

    I have found the key that unlocked my jaw…but not the one that has opened their ears.  

    So this family play that is coming to town, has ears that only hear family lines…

    And I on the other hand only spew forth words that contradict the image of family.

    They will have a chorus of voices to my one lone voice.

    It will be like spitting into the wind.

    It is also what any child who dares to speak up about a family member who has abused them is up against. 

    It is to stop the play.

    A play that began many generations ago.

    The Family Play.

    I am one of the lucky ones who could read beneath the lines, see behind the scenes and see that the play they all thought they were playing, was really a show of horrors.

    It is Billed and Advertised as a G-Rated show….but in reality it is all X Rated.

    Behind the innocent appearing costumes and lines…is an intricate moving, living, breathing play of abuse.  And, it will continue its long run as long as the family plays along.

    Abuse needs the Family to cover, to play along.

    What an incredible cast of supporting actors…playing their family roles so that abuse is covered up and not seen.  It is like seeing a double feature at one time!

    It almost feels like IF you concentrate hard on family, you will not see the abuse show that is running underneath. 

    In my world there is only one show in town….I refused to act and pretend the family show even exists…for its only purpose is to hide abuse.


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    This is me, at age 9… I believe I pretended to play family after the abuse, but now I can no longer pretend to pretend.  My father introduced me to a new play. 

     

     

     

     



     

  • Back When I was 7

    "You prepared to see you mother at the wedding?" my husband says to me tonight.  "She's not coming," I say….confidently.  He says, "SHE'S coming, so you better be prepared."  

    I am to prepare myself for this?  How exactly am I to do this.  Prepare what?  What things to do I have to ready for this event?

    Is the all knowing, all loving Universe really going to combine these two events; my daughter's wedding day and a unwanted meeting with my mother?

    These two items don't match.

    For one event, I have prepared, I have done the errands, sewn, hot glued, shopped, ordered….been preparing…to set the stage for her wedding vows…a love party.

    The second encounter would have none of that.

    I would have not prepared for the unwanted reunion…nor would it look like a love party.

    Again, how do you prepare for it?

    It angers me even that I HAVE to PREPARE.  Like 'brace yourself'….

    I feel like the second event is to plant a mine field among the honest efforts to ensure a happy day.  It is like a mad demonic comedy…swirled into the wedding flowers.

    Prepare yourself….

    For what?

    For the all the dysfunctional personalities?

    For the 'surprises' that these dysfunctional folk bring?

    How do you prepare?

    It feels like this is asking way too much.

    You know, some say that last night, speaking up in public about sexual abuse and displaying my Therapy Quilts….takes courage and strength etc.

    But to me, that is child's play compared to being in the same space with the woman who can't see me.

    How easy to be with those who can see you.

    How incredibly tough to be put back into her presence…to not be seen.  Or more accurately for my wounds to be ignored….again.

    Rage…rumbles around…like a child in the throes of a temper tantrum….that surely when you didn't have the time or space or effort when I was in the pits of hell….to see me….that you would now want to pop back into my world.

    Why now?

    Why when the drama, trauma, bleeding, pain, tears, terror, anger, rage, injustice, betrayal, feelings of such huge magnitude, that I thought I would literally go insane…you were NOWHERE TO BE FOUND, and now you want to arrogantly strut in?

    Now?

    Really?

    Now you will enter INTO my life?

    Better be prepared, your mother is coming.

    What in the hell do I prepare?

    Welcoming Arms will not be raised.

    Warming feelings will not rise.

    Eager heart not racing to reunite.

    Instead the opposite is within me.

    Arms raised, palms up in a stopping motion….

    I don't have feelings for her….emptiness is there.

    Pulse racing in anxiety…knowing I don't want to be near her.

    Prepare.

    What?

    The juxtaposition that will be inside of one body on that day overwhelms me.

    "It is your daughter's day" echoes from many voices….Prepare yourself.

    I feel like I have to arm myself for war…and dress like the mother of the bride.

    The clashing of these worlds overwhelm me….and leave me weak.

    "Your strong," they say.

    "I am not strong enough"….I sigh.

    "You are the one showing them how it's done…"

    "I don't know how to prepare"…

    Guess I have never been prepared…never given the rule books, the "this is how it is done" section on the mixing of the ghosts of my past with the loves of my present…to take down the barriers and let them all mix AND stay standing in grace.

    How do I prepare….to let all that I have stood against come flowing back into my world?  

    I looked up the word Prepare.

    "To make ready – for use or consideration."

    Guess what it feels like I am suppose to prepare to be a daughter, a sister  Or to use a mother.

    I have no use for a mother like her. 

    And, I feel like they are making me use her.  Making me have a mother.  Making me engage in even a cursory fashion…to 'consider' even the possibility of using a mother.

    I have no use.

    How do you prepare for something you are not going to use?

    It just seems that the Universe is being unusually harsh about this….to reserrect her now on my daughter's wedding day.  

    The joining of two lives in love and the public display of a mother and daughter's shattered relationship…the hollow sound of nothing for almost 9 years…echoing among the sighs of love.

    One whole and one broken.

    Why?

    Why am I to publicly keep walking among the broken pieces. 

    Prepare for love with the wedding and prepare for no love with estrangement.

    How?

    No one tells the mother of the bride "Prepare yourself".

    And yet on my daughter's wedding day…the mother of the bride will do her usual party prep….hair, outfit..and then I will have to steel my insides for the encounter of the accomplice to my childhood abuse.  Really.

    How will that look?  

    How do I sit there smiling in pleasure in a party dress with the steel battle ready insides…ready to face evil?

    You know, that very image is exactly how I had to look back when I was 7.


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  • Beyond Fabric!

    I am not sure what I expected the Meet the Artist event to be like, but it was way cool….very nicely set up, flowers, cake and refreshments….with wonderful people milling about….surrounded by my quilts.  

    Yet it wasn't about me….really or the Art specifically….or the journey of recovery….but about us all.  Each one brought something that made the night perfect.

    I truly do love that many love and get my ladies and the message that seems to pour out of the seams….the way she speaks the language of the viewer…touching cords deep down within.

    I saw old friends and surprise friends….and new ones yet to be.  I felt again the helpful caring nature of those who work for Copper Country Mental Health.  

    I had a wonderful young lady sing me a song.  Yes, that's right…she sang for me.  It was a beautiful song about the Spirit in the Wind…the Spirit in the Earth and the magic, I believe, of the moon….and the Fire Within!  She will be sending me the right words…she said she viewed my ladies by the water….in nature and was inspired to sing to me.  

    I feel that this is a debut for My lady….for there was talk about her going on the road.  And, she travels well….like a carpet roll!  How cool will that be.  To see where she goes and who she meets and the connections she will make….

    Oh, and the local paper was there.  I do believe the reporter was quite taken with My Lady and the way she introduced herself to me….by secretly coming out in my Art. So, he said he was going to submit it to the paper for tomorrow….we will see.

    It seemed the like the right and perfect place for her to be….gracing the walls of the place where so many go to seek the answers…and to even inspire those who are working with folks like me.

    We all were in awe….My Lady and I….a journey that will go beyond fabric!


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    Again, thanks to Joe, Shelly and the rest of the staff…for making the perfect "Meet the Artist" event and for the wonderful folk who came to meet My Lady and I…..