It's All About the Attitude

Yesterday, I rescued a bat. Apparently, he came into my art studio building from the attic several days earlier while the owner was storing boxes. The little guy squeezed himself up into a corner above the picture hanging rail in our gallery hall. He had to hook his little legs around the rail and hide his face against the corner to sleep with all the light pouring in from the huge, warehouse style windows. Nobody seemed to know how long he'd been there, stuck among the art with one single fly (I really hope he ate that pesky bastard) and no water. So, I broke out the old animal nets and borrowed a pair of work gloves (that will never be the same) from Gene. I'll admit, the whole thing made me miss the zoo just a little.

The net proved to be useless thanks to the corner situation. But, I was able to sneak up a ladder and put my hand right over the sleeping ball of brown fur. Immediately, he starting bitching. Loud! And, of course he dug his teeth into the leather and pee'd all over it. I don't think Gene is going to be too happy to get his gloves back. Of course, I was not surprised by the initial attitude, and this is hardly the first time I've been pee'd on. (Remember peeps, a zookeeping job sounds fun until you think about all those bodily functions you have to clean up. Some of the animals like to throw it at you, too.) So, I held on tight and carried the little guy outside where he could return to his family in the attic.

What I didn't expect was the attitude I got when I let him go. The feisty, little booger just sat there on my glove, all his teeth bared, and bitched at me for at least two minutes before he finally flew off. He definitely subscribes to that "if you're small and cornered just act crazy" school of thought. He had some big attitude packed in a cute, little package. Now that I've gotten to know him, I think he's my kind of bat.

Etsy, Here Comes Earth Art By Amanda!

Yes indeed! I finally got myself in gear and opened my new Etsy site, Earth Art by Amanda, my first little online shop to sell my art and jewelry. So far, I have only worked on posting the beach glass jewelry to it, but eventually, I plan to have several pages which will also include my paintings, drawings, and photography. First, however, I have to work towards getting better photos taken of my jewelry.

Where I am good, but not yet great, at photographing nature and animals, I seem to be not so good, and definitely not great at photographing jewelry. People who can take pictures of small, inanimate objects and make them look fantastic have a whole new respect in my book.

I am planning to recreate a beach scene and try putting my jewelry into it. Then, I can photograph it like I do when I find something in nature, and perhaps it will turn out better. I'll keep you posted. Or better yet, you can make frequent visits to my new etsy shop, Earth Art by Amanda to see for yourself if the new pictures are up. For now, they are just boring images of each necklace on a black, velvet board.

Still, the new logo and banner rock the house. Thanks so much to my friends Gene Bjerke and Poet Miller for helping me design these out of one of my paintings. Thanks also to Poet, and her Mom Andi Miller, for pretty much walking me through setting up shop. It's good to have friends who know computers, cause I seem to have some glitches in my system. No, not the computer, the brain. It short circuits when a computer enters the loop.

In related news, I am now an official sponsor to The Oceanic Society and you can view this on their upcoming conference page here. Thanks to all of you peeps who purchased jewelry in the past year to help me sponsor such a great cause. Its good to know others are willing and ready to help, even in small ways, in the effort to clean up our seashores and oceans. Pass on the need and who knows, maybe someone else will join the effort and start picking up the beaches and making art out of it. Stranger things have happened.

Some Good News for the Month of Me

So, I admit to avoiding my own blog lately. It's not surprising after the last three posts about losing so many loved ones. This year has not been too kind to me and mine, and I guess I needed time to get my head together after all the sadness. Things are beginning to take an upward turn at last, perhaps because I am once again entering the month of me.

If you don't know me or are new to this blog, let me explain that I was born on October the 18th, 1969, and since I turned forty (last year), I decreed it time to be selfish and take an entire month to celebrate my birth. After forty years, we all deserve much more than just one lousy day. I say live it up while we still have our health. Last year's month of me was the best part of the year thanks to my dear friends who celebrated in style with me at Shakori Hills where Donna the Buffalo, the best band in the world, serenaded me, and I won't even tempt to top that this year. I am going for another Donna concert with friends this coming weekend,of course, but then I'm missing Shakori all together and opting for a week at the beach because it sounds like heaven right about now. I will be busily hunting beach glass, or laying like a barnacle on my blanket in the sand.


Anyway, just in time for the month of me, the wonderful news has hit the stands that I am to be one of the eleven women honored by the Academy of Women this year for outstanding contributions in the category of the arts. I was completely floored. So just a couple of days after my 41st birthday, I will have to stand up in front of the Central Virginia community and give an acceptance speech. There is, indeed, always a down side to every great thing. Still, they only want said speech to last five minutes...whew. The dinner and awards ceremony information can be found in the News and Advance article. Click the green Academy of Women link above for more info. The proceeds raised from the dinner will go to the YWCA of Central Virginia, whose motto is "eliminating racism, empowering women." So, come on out to help me celebrate the night and the other ten women who are being honored, and help an excellent cause in the process.

So, what other good news can I share? I am still working diligently on my graduate project and the painting and writing for this is moving right along. It seems to be flowing out of me these days. Of course, this leaves little time for anything else, like writing blogs and submitting new poetry and short stories to publishers, or calling, writing, and generally responding to invitations from my friends. I've even had to turn down or put off several excellent job and volunteer opportunities for worthy causes. There are just not enough hours in my day. I hope everyone will forgive me.



I did manage to squeeze out enough time to get my art entered into some shows over the summer. Thanks to my studio mate Terri, who reminded me of dates, kept me focused, and even picked up my art for me while I was away for school, I was able to take second place for my dragonfly photo in the Rockbridge Regional Show in July. I showed at Kaliedascope a few weeks ago, also. Thanks to all the friends and clients who came by to support me at the show.

Next, there will be three of my photos and two paintings inspired by my years living in Morelia, Mexico showing this month at the Bowen Center for the Arts in Bedford, Virginia for their "Latin American Show." If you are in the area, the show opens next Friday, October 8th and runs through the middle of November. Also, Art on 12th, where I have my studio, will be open to the public on Sunday, November 14th from 1:30-4 pm. We are located above the new Art Box on the corner of 12th and Grace St. in downtown Lynchburg. Come on by, enjoy snacks and conversation and see what all the fabulous artists in the building are working on.



So, that gives you a little taste of the positive side of my life, plus a a little taste of my art. Thought it might brighten up your days. Have a great month of me!

My Angel of Mercy

Ten years ago, I met my angel of Mercy. She did not come in the form I expected, no hail of glory, no white wings and glowing halo, but she was an angel and she saved me, none the less. We were introduced by a friend while I was still grieving deeply over the loss of Isabeau, my first Rottweiler, who had lost a long and horrible battle with cancer. Although I swore I would never put myself through the sorrow of losing another dog, my friend knew I was in need, and she happened to know a dog who needed me, too. Mercy was the angel I never saw coming.

One of the best things about Mercy was that she simply loved everyone. If you gave her a cookie and a pat on the head, she would help you carry the TV and anything else you wanted to the car. She loved kids, and often put up with whatever they could dish out. Five minutes after meeting my four-year-old cousin Grant, pictured above, she was wearing his Pirates hat and his blanket and playing Superdog without complaint. She seemed fine with helping Katie, who is two, get over her fear of big dogs, too.

When we met,she was named Mercedes and she was in serious need of help. I went to her house skeptical that I was not ready for another dog, that I could not handle the emotional attachment. But, when I saw Mercy at two years old, weighing nearly 200 pounds and suffering greatly from obesity, I knew I had to take her home with me. She was a sweet and lovable klutz who was badly in need of a health overhaul, not unlike myself. We dieted together, but she was much more successful at it than I was perhaps due to the personal trainer. I could be so regimented with her and am still unable to keep myself in line. Go figure. Anyway, she lost enough weight to make up a whole second dog until she was down to the normal 120 pound mark. In the deepest hours of my depression, helping Mercy made me stronger. She was a loving friend who pulled me back into the land of the living.

Mercy did not just rescue me, however, she rescued another, or actually we rescued her together. One day, on my way to work, I found a female Healer / Terrier mix in the middle of the road nursing a litter of puppies near the back gate to the zoo where I worked. About half of the puppies in the litter, there were a lot of them, resembled the male pure bred rottweiler, so they had their tails docked. Since the owner of the dogs had already been caught several times selling half breeds as pure, and since I was a member of the local humane society, we chose to confiscate the puppies. Later, all of the other dogs were removed from the owner and he was fined, as well.

The first puppy I picked up from the pile in the road burrowed under my hair and began to make a soft, whimpering noise. After helping the humane society volunteers who came out to help pick up all the dogs and capture the mother, I was still holding this one puppy under my chin, and I literally could not put her down. I so did not need a second dog, having just taken Mercy home and feeling like she was not even settled in yet. But, I took the puppy home thinking I would just elect myself in charge of finding the one pup a good home.

Mercy took immediate charge of the tiny, little thing, cleaning and protecting her. They romped and they played and their famous freedom races at the end of each day probably aided Mercy in losing that last pesky pound or two. My favorite game, however, started on the first day they met. Mercy would play tug-o-war with the puppy, offering her the favorite toy, and after tugging for a bit, she let the little one win the game every time. They laid together with the puppy tucked safely between Mercy's front legs every night to sleep. I found several friends with farms who were interested in giving the puppy a home, but when they came over to meet her, Mercy placed herself between them and growled. Nobody was taking her baby away, least of all me. So, I named her Cinco de Mayo, after the day I found her, and we call her Cinco for short.

Mercy, Cinco and I became a family, a pack if you will, and we have been the best of friends. Sadly, and most likely due to Mercy's obesity in her youth, she contracted both thyroid and cushings disease, both of which are endocrine diseases. She was diagnosed about a year ago. Although the thyroid was treatable, there is nothing much to do for cushings except treat her symptoms and keep her comfortable. Even the cutting-edge, best drugs for the disease are questionable and do nothing to cure the animals. In the end, it is degenerative and eventually shuts down the internal organs due mostly, I'm told, to an excess of steroids in the system.

Mercy was amazing all the way to the end. She never complained, and she always stayed in the best frame of mind. Even a trained observer like myself had a hard time telling when she suffered. Most dogs become depressed, stop eating, stop grooming, or show signs of hurting, but Mercy stayed stoic, eager to please, eyes bright, and happy to be alive even as her kidneys were shutting down. After the tremors began to cause her to flop around and kept her from walking well, and she started having trouble standing up and laying down, even when she stopped processing food well, and started flinching whenever she was touched, she was never depressed. She would just shake it off and move on as if nothing was wrong. But, after it became apparent she had made it to the acute renal failure stage, we finally made the decision today to prevent any more suffering.

Right up until the end, Mercy was giving me kisses and hugs and panting with her big, sloppy smile even as she splayed out on the hospital floor and was unable to stand back up. She seemed more concerned about me and why I was upset than the fact that she could not stand up on her own. Once I sat down on the floor beside her and gave her another hug, she seemed happy to just stay where she landed and let the doctor work on her. She let me hold her and gave me kisses right up until the very end, and I know that if any dog has a special place in heaven, Mercy does. I told her I thought St. Francis probably had another assignment for her already, some other lost soul who needs rescuing. Mercy literally saved me, and although I can't really speak for her, I'm betting Cinco would say the same. We already miss her more than words can express.

Thanks, my Angel of Mercy!

A Cat Spangled Weekend

Last year, I caught all kinds of flack from my cat loving clients for posting a blog about my doggy friends over the 4th of July holiday. In particular, Chaplin Spies (pictured above) was not pleased to be left out. As I told them, this was because mostly, of all my pet friends the dogs are more cooperative about having their picture taken, and friendlier to the pet sitter all around. Although, there are a few exceptions to the rule, and in fairness to the cats, I decided it was time to post a blog in their honor. This one's for you Chaplin!

As it happens, this holiday I am sitting for just as many cats as I am dogs, for a change, and a few of them were spectacularly cooperative with the paparazzi. So, with the help of my handy cell phone. I would love to introduce you to a few of my catty friends.

Meet Abby, the cattiest of cats. She will cooperate with me only if I NEVER touch her. I think the photo conveys how she feels about me.



On the friendlier side, there are a couple of cats that keep me rolling in the floor most visits. The first of these is the wonderful Ted. You just never know what crazy antics you might happen upon when Ted is near.





Then there is Boots. He is the curious cat who comes when called. He may have been a dog in a former life.



I often wonder if he was named for his foot fetish. He is quite enamored with his own white toes.



Lucy is also quite the dog lover. Here she is with Max the Maltese who gives her a bath every evening while we watch TV.



No cat blog would be complete without my favorite curious cat, Boomer, who happens to be Lucy's brother.



I just have to slide the dog who thinks she is a cat in here. This is me with Sienna, my smallest cliet. They tell me she is a dog, but I am not so sure!



Finally, one last cat that I thought Chaplin might like the looks of. Chaplin, meet Stella the barn cat. She is a wild and crazy girl!



I hope you all have a fabulous 4th of July holiday. I will be hanging on the wild side with the cats and dogs, although I plan to squeeze in a little cookout by the pool with friends, too.

Also, if you have not already read or seen these links, I have a couple of published works out there this month. You can read my latest published poem at The Canary by Hip Pocket Press. I am indeed grateful and honored to be published there with the likes of Ann Fisher-Wirth and Thomas Berry. You can also view one of my paintings in an international online exhibition called Face the Music.

Have a safe and happy Independence Day!

Poppy Moves to Red Light District in the Sky

Never let it be said that Poppy did not tell you exactly what she thought. She spoke loudly if she felt the need. She and I had a lot in common that way. We also shared the distinction of having lived by many names, having had many friends who chose to call us assorted things, mostly out of affection. Poppy started life as Claireese, which was shortened further to Reese, and then somehow morphed into Poppy. Whatever name she went by, she was a fabulous cat who lived a charmed life, and thankfully shared most of it with me.

Twenty years ago, on Clairendon Drive, hence the original name, a road in downtown Dallas between Zoo north, the old part of the zoo, and the new Wilds of Africa on the south side, my friends Heidi, Amy and I rescued Poppy from four neighborhood dogs who had cornered her in a tree. We were on our way to the hay barn riding this little John Deere four wheeler - meets dump truck - meets tractor thingy that we referred to as " the green machine." It was loud like a Harley might sound if it had a really loose, rattling tail pipe, and yet, Poppy was so glad to be saved that she curled up under my chin and purred the whole way to the hay barn and the whole way back across the zoo to the Okapi Barn where she hung out with me until I went home for the day. She was mine and I was hers from the very first moment.

There are a lot of things she will be remembered for, but I think she is most notable for her own personal red light district. She was a fetishist of sorts, finding herself fond of using the litter box in the middle of my bed, regardless of the fact that I kept trying to explain the whole little box concept and how there should be litter and a box involved. She preferred doing her business in a bed and soon had to be relegated to the outdoors to live on our screened front porch. That first winter, we worried that she would freeze, so I bought her a heat lamp and plugged it in over her favorite bed. It made our front porch glow red that could be seen for blocks. After several undercover cops made excuses to knock on our door and check things out, a friend opted to take the naive girls aside and explain what a red light district meant. After some shock and a bit of laughter, we decided we liked it, opted to leave it, and told friends to look for it when we threw parties. In fact, we because known for our " Parties in the Red Light District." Poppy didn't care what people thought, why should we?

Never caring to be dubbed a slacker, Poppy helped to train every one of my dogs and a few of their friends and neighborhood canines. She was a good, but fair trainer who actually grew quite fond of Rottweilers, in particular. Yet another things we had in common. After teaching Isabeau who was the boss of every situation, she used to curl up on the bed next to her stomach and sleep for hours. With Mercy, she had already been relegated permanently to the out doors for crimes against the new mattress, so sleeping together was out. Still, she enjoyed hanging out by the pool with her in the summer. She would often use Mercy's back as a bridge between the table and the chaise loungers, so she could climb on top of the sun bathers and lay across our wet bathing suits and purr. I never said she wasn't a little bit strange.

Dearest Poppy, you will be missed! I like to think of you upstairs by the fire in a big cushy green chair with buddies TJ, Isabella, and Opal all sleeping in a pile and Isabeau maybe curled up on the floor. Maybe Gramma is there, too. Who knows. Wherever you are, it was a pleasure to have shared my days with you, and I hope we meet again!

Interning with Pam Longobardi

Well peeps, the time is here and I am so stoked I can barely see straight. I leave ultra early in the morning on Saturday for the long drive to Atlanta and my long awaited internship with the fabulous artist Pam Longobardi. We met quite serendipitously while I was working an internship for my undergraduate studies at The Maier Museum of Art. I walked into the room to help hang the show which was focused on artists addressing environmental issues, to find Pam busily pinning to the wall small pieces of colorful, plastic trash she had collected off of South Point Beach on the Big Island of Hawaii to create an eye color test chart that read Dead C in its center. I happened to be wearing a necklace I had created from beach glass collected off that very same beach. We bonded instantly over our mutual love of Hawaii, the ocean, and all things environmental. Now, several years later, after Pam and her wonderful Drifter's Project have been shown all over the world (pictured here at the Art Life Gallery in Venice), and I have dutifully continued trudging through school hoping to learn how to create such amazing and inspired environmental art works as Pam, I have been given the incredible opportunity to work with her on her latest installation called Material Drift in the Sandler Hudson Gallery Atlanta next week. So, in honor of this exciting moment, I have copied the link to my article on Pam's upcoming show recently published at Got2BeGreen. It has all the details on Material Drift opening May 21st in Atlanta. I hope to see some of you there. Thanks to Pam for providing this opportunity and the photo of her work.
For more go to Got2BeGreen.