BRAZIL, HOW I LOVE THEE. . .

LET ME COUNT THE WAYS !

Ever wake up and ask yourself, "how did I get here?" Well, I know how I got here. I wrote about it in my last post which I must say turned into a much too long post. I had intended to split it into two posts. Needless to say, I'm okay with a pencil and a paintbrush, but computers aren't my forte.

The real question is. Why did I come here, and the answer is an on-going daily experience of my life here in Brazil. To begin, I retired from a good paying job, to a poor paying pottery studio in my garage. Sitting at the wheel creating mostly utilitarian pottery, bowls, cups, pitchers, etc., I had time to remember my forgotten dreams. Some of those dreams were to explore the world, live by an ocean, and or make a living as an artist. While married the dream was to retire to Mexico's Yucatan Peninsula on the Caribbean. However, that dream was dashed with the death of the marriage. I began my "exploration" with a move from Idaho to Florida. Not exactly a worldly move, nevertheless a beginning. Before I could get a pottery studio set up in the newly acquired garage attached to a house in Florida, my son Pat offered an opportunity to adventure a little further south. So initially you see, my first reason for moving to Brazil was 'because I could'!

We landed in Sao Paulo at midnight, with 5 cats. Remember? We expected to be met by a Taxi Driver dispatched from Itanhaem a small coastal town a couple of hours from Sao Paulo. He was almost 3 hours late. The Currency Exchange booth was closed due to the hour which meant we had no Brazilian currency, we couldn't even call Pat's girlfriend who had assured him that the Taxi would be there to pick us up. We didn't speak the language and found no one who spoke English. We tried to remain calm, wondering if we'd been bamboozled. At last a driver emerged from the shadowed parking lot. The Taxi ride from Sao Paulo is one that will linger in my mind as the most hair raising event of my life. I truly believe he was Kami Kaze trained. The only reason we reached Itanhaem without being rear-ended or broadsided or simply run over by a big diesel fueled semi-truck was because God heard my desperate pleas to not let us die on some Sao Paulo freeway. There were moments out on the open freeway when I relaxed enough to feel the warmth of the humid air and smell the ocean even though I couldn't see it. Life in Itanhaem was simple. We lived with Pats girlfriend Ana and her two children in a small neighborhood which boasted 5 churches in a 4 block radius and 6 small neighborhood bars, which were open to the street not having a door or even a front wall. Just up the street from where we lived was Chitaus, a very small corner bar. Everyone we met there were so friendly and gracious and most curious about we "foreigners"! I dubbed it "Cheers".

The first thing (after hating that Taxi driver) I lovaed about Brazil was Music. There is always music. On Wednesday night, Sunday morning and that evening, I could sit on the wide veranda on my little wooden bench and listen to the lovely choirs of the various churches. On Friday and Saturday night I sat on my little bench and listened to the live music from the local bars. There was the mother next door who sang, harmonizing with her small children. On the other side, the home was owned by people who lived in Sao Paulo, but their teenage son would bring his friends down for the weekend and eventually they would all wind up sitting around the pool singing for hours. Rose and Barboza lived across the street and she had several birds who would break out into bird song every day. Street vendors selling everything from ice cream to the wonderful homemade bread and candy and bottled water sang as they made their way down the street.

My first impression, my first love of Brazil is the music. I can hear it without turning on a radio or T.V. Music from the streets or the open air concert halls or the churches and little neighborhood bars or music wafting from the windows of our neighbors. The music of a small town on a Brazilian coast. My reasons for loving Brazil are many and I hope to explore them in subsequent posts. Dance to the music, - if you will.

SHE WHO DANCES WITH CATS

A Cat Tale...When you were growing up, didn't you know someone in your neighborhood who was knows as "that weird old cat lady"? I think that was me. I have always loved cats. When I was about 5 I moved with my parents from a small town to a ranch about 120 miles away. We, of course, took my little white kitty whose name was Nina. About a week after settling in Nina disappeared. I cried and cried. Then the neighbor down the road offered a little kitten to me and I wasn't so sad anymore. Two months later, my sister Aleene (who was a lot older than me) wrote to Mama to tell her that Nina showed up on their doorstep. She and her husband JC had moved into the house we vacated. Nine had traveled over 100 miles to go back to her home. I didn't start out to have 5 cats, it just happened that way. When I made the decision to move to Brazil it was never a question whether or not my cats would go also. My son Pat argued with me to no avail. Naturally, I won out. So when he made our reservations with TAM Airlines, he also made reservations for the cats. All 5 of them. We learned that they only needed their Rabies shot to enter Brazil. The vet gave them all a shot and good advice on traveling so far with them. We arrived at Miami International several hours ahead of time with luggage and 5 cat carriers. People standing in the lines or just walking around gathered around the carries and were ooohing and aaaawing over the beautiful cats. They had been given a mild sedative recommended by the vet, so were nonplussed by all the attention they were getting. This is good, because my cats had never been around strangers and would have freaked out otherwise. So far the beginning of our trip to Brazil was off to a good start That is until we reached the ticket counter. Pat explained we had reservations for the cats. "Okay", she said and clicked away on her computer. She looked over the counter and said "how many cats do you have"? Five, we have five cats. "Oh nooo! You can't have five cats. There are only two cats allowed per flight"! No, No, Pat said, we made reservation with Tam for the five cats. "You are mistaken, Tam only allows 2 cats per flight". No Ma'am I'm not mistaken, this is verified, we have five cats and we five have reservations. "Sorry, only two cats per flight". LOOK LADY. . ."excuse me a moment", and she left the ticket counter. She returned shortly with her supervisor to back her up. "Sorry, folks, Tam allows only 2 cats per flight". Now, I'm getting edgy and so is the crowd who had been admiring the beautiful cats. Her supervisor fled the scene and by now I in full-throttle panic. We are trying to decide what I am going to do when we are approached by a short round mad with a busy mustache dressed in a black suit and black tie. He said he understood we had a problem, but there was nothing that could be done. Only two cats per flight. We looked him in the eye and said what are we to do, we had reservations for all five cats and now you tell us we don't and that we can only take two of the five cats with us. Are we supposed to just board the plane leaving 3 drugged cats in carriers sitting in the middle of your airport floor. I'm sure the newspapers would love to here this story. You know the one where TAM Airlines abuses cat owner who wants to fly to Brazil. "Okay, Okay lady, I shouldn't do this but it will cost you $300.00 U.S. dollars to put them on your flight." Pat began to walk away, wait Pat, wait, 300 dollars isn't so bad. "No, no, lady that's 300 dollars each cat! That did it! Pat suddenly evaporated right there into thin air. The crowd is looking uglier and I mustering up tears as big as a house. Two of them dropped and the crowd is now beginning to mutter in angry tones and the fat man is looking at the floor. I had decided to throw myself on the floor writhing and screaming until he relented, when he looked up at the the mean faces in the crowd, looked at me, shrugged his shoulders, turned to the ticket agent and said put those blankety blank cats on the plane and get her and her cats out of here, NOW. A cheer went up from my faithful standing gallery and I ran to catch a plane already boarding. I got to the gate still in panic mode because I didn't know where Pat was. I looked and there he was standing at the gate. All the way to Brazil he muttered for a full 8 hours how he would never ever travel with me and five cats again. WELL BITE YOUR TONGUE SONNY BOY! Fast forward to the boarding counter at a busy Sao Paulo airport. Once again we are standing in a very long switch-back line and again we have attracted friendly Brazilian who are talking about what beautiful cats we have. This time though I have backup since Ana is now traveling with us. Being Brazilian and having made all the reservations, not only for us but, yes you got it, five cats boarding that airplane should be a breeze. Not! Oh no! We are flying TAM Airlines again? I had a lump in my throat and butterfly's in my stomach. Not to worry Ana said, I have all the verifications for the cats. Oh be still, my heart. I wanted to pull a Pat Disappearing Act. But, figured he would and I couldn't leave Ana alone. Ana had booked two flights. Pat on one with two cats, leaving one hour ahead of us and Ana and I on the second flight with three cats. According to the ticketing agent this was no problemo. Pat and Jessie and Goldie where checked in and ready to go. Then it was our turn. STOP FRAME, ROLL BACK to..."How many cats do your have?" Three, we have three cats. "No, no, Tam allows only two cats per flight. I was a little better off because it all happened in Portuguese and I couldn't understand most of the heated conversation. ENTER SUPERVISOR...only this supervisor was a female. I purposely did not use the term lady, because lady she was not. She entered on an elevated walk-way directly behind the ticketing agents. She did not smile. Brazilian are extremely animated conversationalists and I was mesmerized - back and forth, back and forth the conversation went. Again it was over the reservations, that how somehow disappeared from the computer. Supervisor: "There is nothing in the computer to indicate you made reservations." Ana: Here are the confirmation #'s for the reservations. Supervisor: "There is nothing in the computer to indicate you made reservations." Finally, Pat entered the fray. But Supervisor Lady was having none of that. She bent way over the counter, remember she is standing on her dais, and looked him straight in the eye and said "one more word for YOU and I am going to call the police!" A ticket agent who was on break went to Pat and told him his plane was boarding and he needed to run to catch it. EXIT PAT...good thing too. So now we are back to square one. We were told we could have Murphy and Annie in the same carrier. "No, no, Supervisor Lady said, Annie had to have her own carrier". It is now midnight, we missed our flight and Ana has to take a taxi to go somewhere to buy a cat carrier for Annie. Out of this our darkest hour Ana connects with a Taxi driver who knows right where there is an all night pet store open!! Wonder of Wonders. In the mean time there is a shift change and when Ana gets back there is a new supervisor who wants no trouble on her watch. She arranges new tickets for the last flight leaving in 15 minutes for Ana and I and our THREE cats. Oh Praise be. We get to the security check and we can see people boarding the plane when I am stopped because I have a small bag of scissors in my carry on. Ana is faster than me, she runs it all the way back to the ticket counter to get it tagged for luggage. When she gets back, security makes us open the already open air carriers and remove each cat. There are now no more persons boarding the plane. Security was not focused on our plight of missing yet another plane. Finally, we were passed through and with 3 cat carriers, 2 large carry on bags a case with my 35mm camera and a brief case plus our purses we ran...well, we tried to run to the gate. Fortunately, an attendant saw us lumbering toward him and held the gate open for us. BACK TO REAL TIME...We arrive at the small Pousada we had booked and Pat was already there. He glared daggers at me and without saying hello ir how are you, he said Never again, I will never ever travel with you and your cats again. After that he didn't speak to me for a solid month. The moral of this story? Ticket agent who say more that two cats have reservations, no problemo - lies! "...To Dance by the light of the Jellicle Moon." T.S Eliot - Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats"

Back in the Groove

Hello to Ohio

I've never been to Ohio, and am pretty sure I won't visit there during the winter. Let's see. ice storms, snow storms, rain storms and lightning storms. Did you have hail storms? Can't remember if my good friend Barb said she suffered through a hail storm. Well just so you don't get the winter blues, I've posted some pictures to pick you up and remind you that the sun does shine somewhere in the world. It's past 5 o'clock and I missed my Caipringa. But tomorrow is another day, right? I finally finished my "Ascension" painting. I'm still trying to decided whether to call it "Ascension" or 'Rapture". Sorry about the angle. Couldn't redo it, my camera batteries are running weird and its a trek clear around this huge city to buy more at Igatemi Mall. You should be able to click on it to enlarge. I also completed the commissioned painting I've been working on for the Christian book cover. I haven't submitted it to the author yet, waiting for an expert opinion from friend Barb. She seems to keep me on the straight and narrow. Visit her blog at http://www.barbarasailor.blogspot.com/. Her paintings are wonderful. Of course, she's just a little bit "wacky", (how else can we be friends), she's just completed a painting of a lady's face she discovered in the tile of her bathroom floor. Check it out - you won't be disappointed. I'm being told that spring is on the way in the states which is good. I was asked today, now that we are going into fall if the foliage changes, or if there are noticeable changes. None that I have seen, other than a bit more rain, which causes the humidity to rise. Haven't discovered the name of these trees that have the largest leaves I believe I've ever seen. They drop, but it seems within days they simply replenish what they lost. The trees are really beautiful and have a huge spread with bright red flowers. They remind me of the Mayan Fire Trees in the Yucatan Peninsula.

And yes it's me on the beach. Can't Dance if you don't try.

Monday

HAPPY ST. PADDY'S DAY !

SUNDAY'S DANCE

Easter is next Sunday. The earliest it's been in 220 years or so. The next time it will be this early will be in 2228. This is a unique event since no one has seen Easter this early before nor will our grandchildren and their children's children. A rather awesome thought. The commercial side of Easter has taken over as it has Christmas, but there are those who still go to church and celebrate Palm Sunday and Holy Week. Growing up our church celebrated Maunday Thursday with the Passover meal or the best duplicate with unleavened bread and other things that none of us kids liked. It was sparse and we were always upset at having to go. Just give us kids good old PB&J. Didn't you as a kid always wonder why it was called "Good" Friday. Of course, we went to church, but as a kid what made our eyes pop was the pretty Easter Basket hidden behind a chair on Easter morning filled with marshmallow peeps and chocolate bunnies. Going to church on Easter Sunday was bearable because we knew there would be the Easter Egg hunt on the church lawn after services. There was also the new beautiful, store bought, Easter dress and brand new shoes. This was especially exciting for me, because new clothes was a once a year event at the start of school. And at that most of them were made by Mama which, of course, wasn't cool and the rest were ordered from "Monkey" Wards. I will completely date myself when I tell you that most of my shirts and even blouses were made from flour sacks. Now that really is the olden days! I digress. Back to Easter - eventually Easter became an important day, devoid of the bunnies and new clothes. Easter became a candlelight procession into a white Easter Lilly filled Church, singing "He Is Risen". Alleluia, a celebration of our risen Lord Jesus Christ. Easter became for me, Bible studies, serving on the church council, Bible studies in my home and managing the Agapé Puppeteers. Easter became a lifelong journey, one that will someday end in my transformation into that mysterious other world. Easter was the girder that held me up, when I received the phone call to tell me my oldest son had fallen on campus and could not be revived. Easter held me close when my youngest son called to tell me my next oldest son had passed away. Easter has been the structure of my life, my belief that my sons are in a better place and the basis of the daily prayers for my son Pat as he pursues his career as an underwater worker and that what we call heaven is indeed real. Easter is truly a day of Celebration. Dance I shall.

Saturday

Days End at Cumbuco Beach

Yes it was a long lunch and I must tell you I enjoyed it. We are still having much rain. It has cooled us down to the low 80's, but you can guess where the humidity level is! We have stayed mostly inside, venturing out only for a trek to the supermarket. Even so, the week seems to have rushed by and not a lot was accomplished I say with some guilt. But, on the upside, I am catching up on my reading. I received an email from a good friend who is a wonderful artist and lives in Nevada. She came to Nevada From Scotland, adapting to a western way of life and upon viewing her paintings you would think she was born and raised in the "land of cowboys'. Check out her paintings and bio on http://www.highlandartltd.com/ . I think you will be glad you took the time to browse through her paintings. Rain Dance, not

ANOTHER TGIF

"Out to Lunch"

"View From the Porch"

Save a Dance for me.

TIME OUT.

I haven't painted for the last couple of days due to the dark rainy weather. The lighting in my apartment leaves a lot to be desired. Round ceiling florescent lights aren't conducive to painting watercolors - or for that matter - reading or writing. I haven't found a good desk lamp yet for my drafting table. Florescent lighting is very common here in Brasil. Rarely do I see the soft yellowish glow of incandescent bulbs in lighted night windows. I don't see floor lamps in apartments or homes and not often in stores. I know that fluorescents are energy saving lights, and that is good, but for my painting they just create shadows in the wrong places. On the other hand I do have an incandescent bulb in my bedroom ceiling. No place to paint, but a good place to read and my computer is also in my bedroom.

"A Child's Garden"

There is so much to love living here in Fortaleza, that I really don't go around kicking my cats because I don't have enough light to paint by. On the gray days I get to read. I can't really curl up in a white plastic arm chair, but I can put a pillow on the seat and one at my back, prop my feet on the bed and I'm set for hours of reading enjoyment. I've just begun "Killer Smile" by Lisa Scottoline. I'll share some paintings from my earlier life.

"Castles in the Sand"

My friend, Barb, has been obsessing over the face and partial body of a woman she discovered in the lights and darks of a floor tile in her bathroom! Like clouds in the sky, you look and then you look again and you see faces or animals. I used to commute over 100 miles to and from work, and finding faces in the clouds kept me awake and or dying of boredom. She drew the image and then transferred it to her watercolor paper. She had begun the painting and posted the process from the tile in the floor to the beginning of her painting. It's terrific! Go to http://www.barbarasailor@blogspot.com/

"Mama's Sewing Room" "Surf Fishing"

This has been a pretty lazy uneventful Thursday. My book is next to my on my computer desk and I believe it is whispering "read me, read me" Think I'll set this Dance out.

Wednesday's Child. . .

Living in Brasil means having to make adjustments. Adjusting attitude, ways of doing things, and lifestyle. I certainly didn't come here to be the "ugly American". But I can tell you that learning to be Brasilian is no easy project. Ana, who is Brasilian, even finds it difficult at times. Dealing with the government and government services can be very frustrating. I suppose a lot has to do with still being new at the democratic process. Being part of the evolutionary process is certainly a new thing for me. I don't know if you think about it, but I was born into a fairly completed process. Right now, I have to admit, the U.S. is at some kind of cross roads and even the ones "in the know" are having a hard time predicting which way the country is going to go. Most every one seems to think it all hinges on this coming presidential election. From my chair I don't necessarily see that as the deciding factor. The deciding factor will be that elusive "silent majority". A silent majority that needs to enter the debate. However, American politics is another story for another day. Coming here from a country where "Fast" is the operative word to a country that is much more relaxed means an attitude adjustment. This is what I consider "relaxed". Local business men at a Kiosk on the beach promenade on a break for an afternoon cappuccino. Lunch breaks are usually two hours long, from noon until 2 p.m. The Post Office on the promenade is closed from 11 a.m. to 2 p.m. Most Brasilians eat their main meal at noon. Two hour lunch breaks then make sense.

There are many kiosks on the beach which are open from 9 or 10 until midnight or longer and some of them have live music during the afternoon.

There are other slight adjustments I had to make. For instance, entering the shower for the first time I was confronted with a cord leading from the shower head and plugged into an electrical outlet! Are you kidding me? Intelligent people have to know that electricity and water together is not a good thing. I stepped back out of the shower, put my clothes back on and found Ana and Pat in the kitchen. Uh, is there another shower that I can use? The obvious question in unison, "Why?". I explained my aversion to having my shower "plugged in". Ana assured me that all showers are plugged in. Well, that may be, but not where I come from! I tried sponge baths for a day or two, I was determined I was not going to set foot in a shower with electricity in it. But, as you can imagine hot humid sweat producing weather overpowered a simple little sponge bath. It was time to face that shower. I admit the whole time I was undressing in front of that shower, God was hearing my pleas for safekeeping. Well, obviously I survived. I rarely take a shower using even warm water here in Fortaleza. I'm not sure there is such a thing as Cold Water here. The best description is "Tepid". There are only 3 apartments on each floor of our building, which I really like. The hallway from the elevator to our apartment is actually a balcony. We rarely close our door, nor do our neighbors. Our apartment is just to the left of the painting standing against the wall. Haven't figured our how to hang it yet, since we can't put a nail in the wall. Gosh, how does one live without nails in the wall to hang things on? With all it's charm and beauty there is, of course, the poverty side of life here in Brasil. There are those unfortunate who beg for money, or the cigarette you are smoking or the rest of an ice cream cone you are eating. We sometimes do give money. But more often, we'll take a kid to a kiosk and buy him a hamburger and fries and a drink. Sometimes on the way from the beach we stop at McDonalds for cheeseburgers and fries. We usually save the fries for the kid up the street to our building, who washes cars by the curb from a small bucket, having to carry water from a distance. He is so appreciative and every so often we'll add a cheeseburger for him. It's not uncommon to step over a person sleeping on a piece of cardboard if we go to the supermarket later in the evening. As the cities in Brasil grow and becomes more metropolitan it is my prayer that more will be offered for the poor, especially a school system which does not discriminate against the poor because it is so costly to send a child to school. No Daance tonight.

(You may click on smaller picture to enlarge them)

Tuesday's Child. . .

We're heading back to rain. Clouds are beginning to build and the sun is intermittent now. A good day to relax and read a book. Or play Canasta. I learned as a child. My parents taught me and we played three handed Canasta. I've never been comfortable playing partners in any kind of card game. Can't stand to be yelled at! I found out that Ana knows how to play Canasta as well, however, her game is somewhat different from my version. We traded back and forth, but often she would rather play my version. In two-handed canasta, you learn to be a hard core player. In other words you are on pins and needles wanting the discard pile so bad you can taste it. And when your opponent gets it, you vow blood revenge, but when you get it you are gleefully evil in your deep seated satisfaction. When I was in my early twenties a lady in our town suggested my two friends, Bonnie and Fred and I learn to play bridge. She said she would teach us. Each Sunday after church we would go to her house. I would absolutely pray that my hand was the "dummy" hand. I just couldn't concentrate and be serious enough for her satisfaction. Finally, after the 3rd or 4th Sunday, she made a suggestion that "perhaps I might be happier reading a book on Sunday afternoon"! Gulp! Well she was right and I went back to my beloved books and left Bonnie and Fred high and dry. They didn't speak to me for 2 weeks. But it was alright, I just kept on reading.

"Playing Canasta"

Now that it is getting cloudy I don't have enough good light to continue painting, which meas I have time to have some fun with my computer. The following are "The Rose" from the original painting through some alterations. I know, I'm just killing time.

Okay, I'm through playing with "The Rose" and wasting your time and mine. Really, I'm not bored - really!

We'll be Dancing in the rain soon.

Beach Time

I began work on a painting, but the sun was out after 2 days of rain and rain is forcast for the rest of the week, so I decided it was a good day to be at the beach. Following are some pictures taken at Cumbuco Beach about 45 minutes north of Fortaleza. Cumbuco is known world wide for its fantastically perfect winds for Kite Surfers. We spent 5 days there relaxing in the sun and watching the Kite Surfers. It looks like great fun, but I think you must be in pretty good physical condition. Seems like a lot of strain on your legs in particular.

Life on My Beach

My Favorite View of the Beach

Kite Surfing at Cumbuco Beach

(Click on pictures to enlarge them)

Beach Treasures

All in all Monday was a good day. I got started on a painting I've wanted to do and did the next best thing - relaxed in the sun and read a book. Dance by the light of the silvery moon.

(Click on images to enlarge)

Dance Time

Yes, it is Sunday once again, and the band at the military complex is warming up for an afternoon of dancing. We could dance on our balcony, but Ana thinks our neighbors might think we're a little strange. Guess, I'll finish this and listen to the band play "oldies but goodies" and finish my book. It has more twists and turns and I only have about 15 pages to go and the serial killer is still on the loose and more new developments with each page. It's a very good read. We had many downpours all day yesterday and all night. The air is clean, it is cooler, only 81 degrees today and right now the sun is shining. But rain is predicted for the rest of the week. For some odd reason gray cloudy days nudges the creative juices in me. I must have a monochromatic soul.

"Aesop's" Crow"

"Crow Stealing Berries"

"Crow in Cattails

I hope you are enjoying a nice quiet afternoon, as for me?, "I could have danced all night."

A Let's Go Do it Day

SATURDAY MORNING

A lets go do it day. Didn't matter what "doing it" was, it meant being together with my family. Didn't matter whether it was sunshine or raining or raging a blizzard outside. It was Saturday. When I was younger, back in the grey felt poodle skirt days, it meant hurrying to get chores done, washing my hair and putting it up on those giant rollers, with a silk scarf tied around it and then spending the afternoon reading, holed up in my bedroom with posters of Rita Hayworth, Betty Davis and Clark Gable on my walls. I'd read my secretly borrowed "True Romance" while deciding what I was gong to wear that night - "Saturday Night". Sock hops, drive in movies, hamburgers and a coke at the "drive-in", cruising main street and being with my friends. Saturday nights were good nights. No gang fights, no drive by shootings, no booze or drugs passed amongst the friends. What was it? It was the "Innocence of the 50's". We laughed at Red Skelton, drooled over Fabian and totally respected our parents, our teachers and the pastor of our church. Television was still an infant and the subject of gossip was how scary "The Creaking Door" on the Radio was last night.

"Saturday Morning"

"View From the Porch"

Living in Brasil, I have a sense of those "50's" days. There is still a kind of innocence that lingers here. It's there even though much of the government is corrupt. It's there amidst the real life everyday view of poverty. It's there in school age children who are on the streets instead of school. It's there in the hundrends of vendors who set up and take down their booths every single day of the year on the beach promenade. It's there when I can call the farmacia and have a single bottle of aspirin delivered. It's there in the smile of the vendors trekking the beach every day. I look around me and see the dust of 3rd world Brasil dissolving and a brisk entrepreneurial spirit rising - a deep spiritual desire to have something better. Dance-ing in the rain.

TGIF

Another TGIF day. We've been having lots of rain. Certainly does cool down the air, but sorry to say leaves it much heavier with humidity. Don't you love it after it rains. When the sun comes back out it has this wonderful color. And the greens are splendid. I also like the color of the sun in the afternoons in the fall. It is such a warm colored sun. I'm not a person who especially loves the color yellow, but sometimes the yellow of the sun amplifies every other color - not to mention your mood. My "almost" granddaughter, Melissa age 9, will be spending tonight and the rest of the week end with a school friend and return home on Monday after school. It will be very quiet here, because she is always bright and upbeat and a non-stop talker. I say that kindly. She also loves to paint, especially when she sees me painting. So today, since it is the end of the week and she is gone, I'm going to surprise her and post HER paintings today beginning with the little Angels she made for Christmas. She used the picture of the Angels to make name tags for

her packages. But, first I think I should start with the Christmas tree. We called it "Melissa Tree" because she hung all 276 Christmas balls on it. (Ana and I finally decided that maybe we went a bit overboard on the decorations!) It was her first Christmas in Fortaleza and she was so excited about it that under these circumstances she didn't tire until all 276 balls were hung.

I suppose you must think I'm nuts, Christmas in March, but it's just my preamble for Melissa's Angels. They were not too easy to photograph so I did them on different backgrounds, one white and one blue.

The following are two paintings Melissa did for me.

"Melissa's Flower"

"Melissa's Mermaid" Hope you enjoyed and to you Melissa, "Surprise" hope you liked seeing your paintings on here Until tomorrow - are you sure I can't have this dance?

YEP! IT'S THURSDAY

I don't know about you, but Thursdays have always been strange days. Like I'm a stranger in a stranger world. Ever wake up on Thursday and ask yourself, "what am I doing here?" "What am I supposed to be doing here?" Me too, and I have no answers to those time worn questions. This morning I ignored the questions, fixed my tea and headed to the balcony, so I could soak up sun and enjoy the view. I still haven't pulled my book cover that I've been commissioned to do, from the bottom of the pile. Think I will leave it there until next week. I worked on the painting that Barb and I have agreed to each paint and trade with each other. Hers is finished and it is wonderful. After viewing it I'm thinking, Oh brother! ,maybe I should tell her I was only kidding. Probably a good way to lose a good friend, so I won't. I still haven't started my "Ascension" painting. It's sketched and ready, but I'm not. Anyway, I'm thinking perhaps this Thursday is not a very good day for words, just art.

"Her Friends"

"Peaches and Cream"

Several quarters ago the challenge on http://www.watercolorpassion.com/ was titled "Kitchens". I am a lover of kitchens. Some of my greatest memories take place in the kitchen. Being raised on a ranch the kitchen was the center of all things good (and sometimes bad). I got spanked in the kitchen too. I had a bath more than one in a galvanized wash tub in water heated on a wood burnng cook range. Eventually electricity came our way and we modernized. We had a Chuckwagon stored in our shed and I remembered that. It surely was a kitchen and I suppose that even today, Chuckwagons are still used during roundups and branding season on some of the bigger ranches. Below is my rendition of a working Chuckwagon.

"Prairie Kitchen"

"The Potting Shed"

Have a good Thursday. Can I have this Dance?

Hump Day

Sometimes Words Aren't That Great!

Wednesdays are good days. Another soup day. Actually it's Gazpacho. I painted this one several years ago when I was still in my "graphics period". They are like ghosts haunting my painting file. I even had the recipe for Gazpacho "shudder" written on the painting.

Then there is Mexican Cookery and other Art. That is actually the title of a small Mexican Cookbook I wrote a very long time ago. The illustration for the cover was different than this painting. Think I should have stuck to the illustration!

And then there is Clay Art. This was during my pottery throwing years. Unfortunately I didn't make it here with the disc that has all my pottery pictures on it. It's no doubt lost in the myriad boxes that fill 3 different storage units. 2 in Idaho and one in Florida. It's good that my secret of writing words all over my paintings is out in the open now. But, these were a long time ago and I've grown a little bit since then.

My friend Barb sent me pictures of the Ice Storm that happened in Ohio where she lives last night and this morning. There are quite a few reasons I moved to Brasil, and one of them was to kick the frost of snow, ice and cold weather from my heel. I was pretty shocked at my response upon seeing the pictures. I was overcome with homesickness. I haven't seen snow or been cold for 3 years. I'd forgotten how much I loved grey cloudy days, I'm much more creative on those days, for some reason. I called them my "monochromatic" days. We do have a rainy season here, but its not a cold windy rain. Actually, it's rather nice. It simply falls straight down from the sky often in opaque sheets, which turns the street in front of our apartment into a rushing river. Then it stops abruptly the sun comes out and the humidity rises and our breeze begins a new cycle.

We live in the brown and creme building. Picture was taken from a friends apartment. The palm tree that is at the corner of the building with blue windows is about 7 stories tall. The next picture is of that building which is across the street from us and you can see the palms. They are amazing. Most of the palms here are coconut palms.

The Atlantic is a beautiful blue green and bathtub warm. This is a view from my balcony. I have enlarged it so it makes the beach appear much closer that it is. It is actually 2 blocks down to the beach. You can see a bit of white almost in the middle which is an outcropping of rocks. We can tell whether the tide is in or out by that. In this picture the tide is almost all the way in. When it is out we can see the rocks. In the distance you can see a container ship which is coming into dock. We see huge cruise ships coming into port and of course the one sail Jangada's used by the fishermen. We have favorite vendors who visit us on the beach and now and then we will see them someplace else and they call out to us. This fellow is our favorite hat vendor. We have bought several hats from him. A bright pink one for Melissa, (see below) for Ana a blue one and I have the sedate bbeige one.

"You can click on the smaller images to enlarge them."

I hope you have enjoyed, 'til tomorrow "Dance for the Moon"