The Secret Society Of Oaks - No.9

Queen Nymph Arija

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This is a tough one. I don't think I can do this nymph justice, I will try.

Not long ago I was reading about India Flint, a gifted artist, writer and poet. She was talking about Attention Deficit Disorder. I agreed with her especially when she mentioned that the symptoms of the disorder described her characteristics when she was a young child. I felt the same way. What India and I shared is having been born to mothers who do not and did not believe that everything had to be labeled and who understood precocious children, otherwise, she and I would have been drugged. We were allowed to flourish in a loving and spirited home life. Her mother is Arija and I happen to consider myself very blessed and lucky to call this wonderful woman my friend.

I love Arija. There are a lot of positions where I may waffle but on this one I don't. This is personal and this is important to me. I saw her at another blog and her comment captured my attention. It's funny to I recall how I thought of her as being aristocratic and distant. Maybe it was her rose avatar or maybe it was her wise bearing that made me think this woman is above my league. Still I followed her and started leaving comments on her blog that is a showcase of the most beautiful landscape and natural resources images. She loves trees so something made me stay. I would not say she is peripatetic but she travels and wanders a lot capturing beautiful images and I found out she is also Peripatetic when one day she gave me a dose of my own medicine.

I was whimpering like a wounded dog and out of nowhere she looked at me straight into my blog eyes and told me what was tantamount to "Stand up and shape up." I do not respond well to strangers being so bold with me but Arija did it in such a gentle and loving manner and then knowing I was nowhere beyond even sitting up, offered her strong and gentle hand. I remember praying hard that week and by week's end the Lord answered my prayers with help coming from the East and from the South. I made two friends that week, even though on my part, it was a friendship of utility, I needed these two friends and my angels brought them to me.

Soon Arija would read something from me like "I hate..." and she replies "You do not hate ..., it is your own repulsion for yourself that you feel." Gulp! I ask her about a sycophantic blogger who started irritating me and she replied "Ces, you would spend the rest of your life pandering to his inferiority complex!" Oh God, I have my own Aristotelian advisor. I share a painting and she along with those who can see through the window of my soul sometimes cringed at what they see. It's as if she was inside my brain and heart when I was painting. Mostly she is exhausted telling me to stop abusing myself. I hear you and I am actually listening!

It's an irony she seldom writes more than a few sentences with her images except for the occasional bout of poetry which I lap with gusto and for her heartfelt and beautiful essays. I admire her intellect. Above all I treasure this wise and loving friend whose life story could provide a rich source of the most captivating screenplays.

I am almost reluctant to feature her as I am afraid you may take her from me, but the more I share her the more love multiplies, and grows. Please say hello to my beloved Arija.

The Secret Society Of Oaks - No.8

Update:

All is well that ends well. I have my laptop ‘puter back! It is bigger, better and faster. Small consolation for my disappointment, right? Previously it had minimal memory now it has maximum memory so it is screaming and sliding and allows me to open twenty or more applications without any problem. I know, I know, too many apps but that’s the way it is. I love all of you! I appreciate your kindness, understanding, caring and support. You are all wonderful incredible nymphs. So let’s continue the nymph parade this evening! I will even skip Illustration Friday and concentrate on the nymphs unless I can think of something “Frozen” in association with the nymphs! Any suggestion?

The Interloper

Sir Perm Anent Lydelete

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I have completed two more drawings of nymphs. I love them! I was really into my element when I drew them, alas, the interloper distracted me. Today I found out that everything was wiped out in my computer, even the safe boot and windows components. The program Mr. Clean used to clean up temporary folders totally cleaned up my pc, the entire cache. I have not been angry, disappointed maybe but not angry. I am very surprised with my reaction. I thought of Arija today, I wonder what she would think and what she would advice me.

C: Everything is gone?

J: Gone

C: How did it happen?

J: I don't know.

C: You gave me a very bad program.

J: No, I don't know why it executed that way, we have used it for three years! I even used it on the CIO's computer.

C: Perhaps the program was recently modified?

J: No

C: I am trying to be philosophical about this.

J: That's good.

C: DAMN!

J: That's not philosophical.

C: No. My other choice is to cry.

J: Please don't cry, please don't cry.

C: (Sobbing)

J: Oh my God! There goes the knife into my heart.

C: (Sobbing)

J: Please, please don't cry, please don't cry...I gave you a bigger hard drive.

C: Why do I need a bigger hard drive, I don't have any data left.

J: Yes, that's true.

C: The problem is, I like you. You are a very gentle and decent man and we have always worked together well, and you have been more than helpful to me in many occasions but it was a big mistake to give me that program. I should be angry and make things difficult for you.

J: Yes, I am really sorry, I don't know what happened. Please don't do that, please don't. Would you want me to bring you something for breakfast, what do you like?

C: No, thank you. I don't want anything. Will I be able to have it back tomorrow?

J: Yes, it is encrypting right now. It takes four hours to encrypt.

C: You will set it up for me with shortcuts.

J: Yes, I will set it up for you.

C: Okay. Tomorrow then. Thank you.

J: Thank you.

Quercus Whateverus

"You could call it "Quercus whateverus" and I 'd believe you." Bella Sinclair

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I love that new Latin name my dearest sisterfriend Bella Sinclair coined, which I took as a plea to stop enumerating the different oak species while I told her about my current projects. Assuming the existence of the core values in a friendship, there is nothing more I value in a friend than a great sense of humor. From Deborah's funny messages and commentaries which send me howling, to the Saturday bloggermance with Manon, the hyperactive breathless comments from Vanessa, Linda's description of her attempt to paint with a banana, Renee's unapologetic comments, Baino's no-nonsense attitude, Bimbimbie's cheerful blog countenance, Silke's quiet observations, Arija's holistic reprimand and Diana's wholesome demeanor, I have enough deposit of mirth to blow away a bleak and gloomy day. I thank all of you for giving something to cheer me up. Then last week Caroline blew me away with the most luscious watercolor rendition of cherries and a folded paper butterfly on Artist Trading Cards - brilliant! I am so blessed with wonderful blog friends and visitors. I appreciate all of you.

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Caroline, I am getting busy, hang in there! Thank you.

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Oh my gosh I promised so many friends a lot of things. My desk and easels are full of unfinished projects. You just have to be patient with me. My drawing and painting hand is now my master.

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But first I must go to sleep. I have been up since 3:00 o'clock this morning for a project implementation.

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Please leave very funny comments...

The Deborah Award

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Friendship isn't about who you have known the longest,

but who came and never left your side.

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I have this peculiar habit of comparing people to trees. Growing up I familiarized myself with the characteristics of trees and how much contribution they make to the planet. Like people there are trees who are majestic, regal, strong and beautiful. There are also trees that are trashy, are good for a number of years and then it's better to chop them down. So it was with naive and childlike belief that when we moved out of the city into the suburbs I felt so rich for my Mother planted so many trees and they were beautiful, bountiful and strong trees. I am wrong to think I was naive. It was not naive after all, of me to compare people to trees and to consider trees as treasures.

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In the blogs there are a few awards that I am very proud to have created or collaborated with their creation but mostly I felt it was a great honor and privilege to have done so. Two of these awards are symbolized by trees, namely, the oak tree. The Renee Award which Bella Sinclair and I created for phenomenal woman Renee, symbolized by the acorn and then there is the Quercus lobata, majestic and largest of western oaks which I used for The Bella Sinclair Award for sisterhood and friendship.

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I have achieved "blog nirvana", a term coined by Bella where I blog for mere pleasure and without pressure and have achieved my goals. Words mean a lot to me therefore I am careful with my attributions. I have, since I coined the term "sisterfriend" on Blog Sister Day which coincides with "No Housekeeping Day", carefully addressed or think of only seven bloggers as sisterfriends, even though I have blogged for three years.

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So today I am planting another tree. The Quercus shumardii or Shumard Oak. It is a handsome large tree with straight axis and broad, rounded open crown. It withstands strong hurricane winds, extreme heat, is tall and straight and just plain beautiful. It fits it's honoree, my dearest sisterfriend Deborah, poet, friend, not just a mother but a soldier's mother too. Oh, the sleepless nights, the anxiety and worries, yet she is perpetually pleasant and cheerful, kind and gentle, diplomatic and tactful. She exudes courage, hope and faith. To her son Pfc. Ryan and his fellow soldiers: I am grateful to you for making it possible for me to blog freely, sleep soundly and speak openly. Thank you! I stand by your mother and hold her hand as she awaits your safe return home.

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Deborah, the honor is mine. You have enriched my life in such a short period of time. You inspire me and encourage me. Thank you very much!

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I have more trees to plant but rest assured those who have virtual trees and acorns planted and distributed in their honor have one common virtue, they are loyal friends regardless of race, creed, political affiliations and geography. Here, I honor womanhood and friendship and there is nothing more wondrous a blessing for anyone than for a friend who came and never left your side. Someone like Deborah.

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You have those friends, please share this award with them. For starters I would like to give this award to:

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Vanessa
Renee
Baino
BT
Manon Doyle
Arija
Valerie Walsh
Diana Evans

Allegra Smith

Marie S
Silke

Caroline

Anne Huskey-Lockard

Tessa

Bimbimbie
Linda Cardina

Lisa Holtzman

Bella Sinclair

and my dearest Deborah!

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Thank you all for making my blog experience meaningful and fun! Please congratulate Deborah and share the award with your circle of wonderful, loving and loyal friends!

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The Oaks Of BlogWorld (3)

Liver And Onions

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Some people take everything so seriously, others just go with the flow. Some people take everything with a grain of salt and still others think every little thing is worth their attention.
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Sade notices the beautiful people.
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Living is the perfect example of multitasking. When you look at life, it’s not a linear process with one or two major events. It’s a series of multiple events happening at the same time like a wire on a giant cable. If you pick out a wire you will notice it is distinct and an entity all of its own. Yet is a part of the giant cable.
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So, a very attractive female visitor in the lobby is looking at Sade going through the revolving glass door. Sade is aware of the pair of eyes penetrating through the glass doors. The woman’s lips are turned into a half smile. One quick glance, Sade immediately notices a hundred features about the woman: she must be in her fifties; nice short hair, graying, beautiful nose, stiff upper lip, silk scarf, shirt, suit, earrings, purse, nails, pinstripes, lipstick, blush on, shoes, trouser socks. Shoes! The woman is wearing beautiful leather Italian loafers, and she has a company identification card.... She thinks to herself, this woman is intelligent, those eyes! She has intelligent eyes and wishes they were friends and they were going to give each other a hug in the lobby…She snaps out of her vision as fast as she thought of it. There was something familiar and comforting with the woman but she cannot point it. So Sade nonchalantly goes through the revolving door without ever looking at the woman but she changes her pace from harried to calm.
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When she finally emerges on the same side of the room, Sade gives the woman a quick nod and a smile, she senses that the woman wants to say something and instead the woman does this quick movement of her lips and shoulders as if to say something. Sade saves her from the awkward moment by flashing a smile, full smile and greets the woman a very cheerful good morning. The woman smiles back, she looked very delighted but was still unsure of what to say. Sade continues walking towards the elevators to go to her office but before she quickens her pace, she says to the woman: “I love your shoes! They look fabulous on you, you look very lovely. Have a wonderful day!” then she runs towards the open elevator. She glances at the woman whose gaze was glued to her all this time, smiling, just before the elevator closes. She grins. Bill, who is with Sade gets into the elevator with her and smiles. He says: “Did you know her?” “No, I was just saying hello.” Bill says, wow, I can’t do that. If I said that to a woman, she might think I am making a pass at her”. Sade turns to Bill and tells him, “So you are making a pass at me all the time then?”. Bill tells Sade it’s different because they know each other. “Hmn, same difference” Sade replies. “Giving compliments is an equal opportunity deal. I will compliment a man when I feel like doing it without expecting anything back.”
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The following week Sade attends a meeting. She and Troy are the last ones to arrive. They acknowledge everyone in the room. Their clients are sitting across the table. Sade smiles at them and notices something familiar with the female client, she recognizes her as the woman in the lobby. She is smiling and looks very friendly. Sade pushes her chair slightly away from the table and slightly slants her head to look underneath the table. Then she looked back at the client and tells her softly almost whispering “You are wearing my favorite shoes of yours!” They share a private laugh. Her name is Jennifer. During the meeting Sade and Jennifer keep glancing and smiling at each other taking caution not to make each other uncomfortable. After the meeting they linger in the conference room and talk about business and work as everyone else walks out of the room. Sade suddenly exclaims “Jennifer, the rape nurse! You were the SANE!” Jennifer is startled and gazes at Sade then says “Sade, oh my God, Mona!.” They worked together for six months twenty two years ago.
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They laugh loudly and hug each other. Jennifer remembers Sade’s husband and Sade recalls something then asks “Did you marry that intern?” and Jennifer replies “No, he turned out to be gay.” They giggle for a long time and then they go to lunch together. They talk about work, their dogs, Mama Mia, music, their children and husbands, they recall a physician named James Bond and a Dr. Pepper and how they paged him overhead “Paging Diet Dr. Pepper”, and the GI doctor named Dr. Potts and the urology intern named Dr. Wienner and the hot nurse who moved to L.A. and was on CNN coverage of the gay and lesbian rally and she had written on her face the words “second class citizen’, she looked so angry and miserable. Then they talk about the black nurse whose body was found floating in a Louisiana bayou. They are silent for a moment. Sade remains silent while Jennifer continues talking about the project they are working on together.
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Sade does not hear a word Jennifer says for her voice is now muffled. Sade finds herself in the front seat of a car in the evening after work, driving home with Sandy. She was a friend of Sade. Sandy pulled out a joint and lit it nonchalantly while her left hand steered. Sade had a conniption fit, throwing every curse word in her vocabulary and pleading with Sandy to stop smoking the blasted weed. Sade thought it was plain stupid and irresponsible to do so, especially while Sandy was still wearing her nursing scrubs. Sandy just laughed at her. Sade remembers looking at Sandy’s beautiful face, she looked like a model, well-chiseled features. She remembers the day she told her husband about Sandy’s death. She only found out because she chatted with her friend Lyn who nonchalantly mentioned Sandy’s death. She felt the whole world crushing down on her and Lyn felt horrible because she thought Sade knew. Sade and her husband were driving and Sade felt very cold, her shirt was soaked with tears.
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She closes her eyes and she sees Sandy blowing the smoke from the joint, baring her bright white teeth, laughing and mocking her. “God!” she thought “She was beautiful!” She loved liver and onions, Yuck! Sade was so disgusted by it and Sandy ate it every Tuesday making Sade retch. Sandy liked to lean on and against the rails at the cafeteria while they went through the line to order. They entertained each other with risqué and salacious jokes told in whispering tones and they giggled like high school girls. Yet both declared they hated high school. One day Sade asked Sandy, “Do you know who died today?” Sandy asked “Who?” Sade continued “I don’t know but they are serving his liver.” Sandy turned about face and delivered a hard blow to Sade’s left arm, it brought tears to her eyes. Sade could not move her arm without pain during the remainder of their shift. Sandy never ate liver and onions again. They were the same age and used to celebrate their birthdays together. Sandy was only thirty-two. That entire year outside of work, Sade did not see any of her friends. Now and then she tried to remember the pain on her arm to remind herself that her friend once lived.