When I was a child I used to have pen pals all over the world. I just realized that I haven't written to anyone in a very long time. True, I stay in contact with my friends via email and the phone, which have their benefits especially part of the current technological age we live in.
There is something about seeing a letter in a familiar hand addressed to you. There is a joy that wells in ones heart when you realize someone took the time out of their very busy lives to take a few moments to tell you about their life, share an experience, ask advice, reach out to you, tell you a funny story, share a photograph of a child, friend, boyfriend, something significant in their lives written in their handwriting and took the time to mail it.
It is true that email is quicker, faster, more convenient but somehow less personal it is easier to put it off, it is easier to do that important research, there is always another way to spend you time. Yet there is no personal touch. It is amazing how much of ones personality disappears without handwriting versus typed information. There seems a lack of personal touch in our sophisticated lives where we sacrifice little things with other things and somehow we lose a great deal more than we bargained for. A compromise without realization about what makes us happy.
I remember that when I was a child the excitement of finding out all the news when I received a letter from my pen pal Tonya in Alaska. I remember tearing open letters from my cousin while she was in college. I remember the joy it brought me to see someone took a moment of time to write something important about their lives to me.
I think the thing that saddens me is the fact that I have no idea where these precious individuals are now in their busy lives. It is a strange thing that happens when we grow up we forget the very important things. The magical things that make our lives happy and bright. It is a strange thing that happens when we grow up we lose a great deal of innocence. We lose the power to BELIEVE! Why would we give up such a precious gift. The power to believe in fairies, never land, unicorns, that someone could fly... I don't honestly think we would choose to give it up. I think it is those little compromises we make to become adults. But what does it really mean to be an adult? Did we buy into an illusion and give up our real power to create? Did we give up our divine right to be a part of creation?
As an artist I am always searching, asking questions, researching, questing, creating, solving problems, creating solutions... what is more magical than creating a solution out of complete chaos? Human beings have an amazing opportunity to be part of a larger part of life, just with the ability and the use of that ability to believe.
Our society loves to be entertained. We love stories. We love to surrounded in a good story, even if it make you cry. Someone once told me that without stories in our lives we would find it hard to live life. There is a connection with innocence, belief and the soul food of a good story. What is it that makes you happy? What little things reach into your heart and make it sing?

I can't believe that it has been 4 months since I have posted. Seems like life got really busy....Father's Day is always a hard day for me, as my father and I are way too much alike for our own good. The hard part is that it is also my grandmothers birthday and it is always hard after a loved one passes on and leaves you to fulfill your dreams without them.
I have never known a world without my grandmother. Needless to say we are really close. Her death has definately been a journey of faith for me. She was always my sanity, my sanctuary, my friend, my mentor, my voice of reason and most of all she was my grandmother. She was the head of the family. I am getting closer to the chair of matriarch and I do not want it yet. I am not ready to become someone people look up to... I still make too many mistakes!
I bet that is what she thought when her mother died. I love her so much and I miss her terribly. It has been almost six years since her death. Life hasn't been the same without her. Somehow I manage to find away to keep waking up and find a reason to get out of bed simply because she always did. She like structure and self-discipline.
She taught me so many things. I discover something about myself everyday I try to attempt to live life as if it were my last moment (-something my great gradmother taught me-) and I begin to understand what she meant when she said I would understand in time. Not when I grew up, but when it was the right time I would understand and learn. My grandmother was a great advocate for women and education. She always told me that it was never a waste of time to learn new things. That an education may put me indebt financially but it could not be taken away. That my education was a way to independence and freedom.
She was a very cool person and I am honored to have known her for the blessed 24 years that we had the opportunity to become friends. A cherish moment I will always be blessed for living. Her mother, my great grandmother, thought two very different people were pretty amazing women. Strong, loving, kind, outspoken and passionate women.