Tag Archives: Inspiration

Make Art To Survive

25 Jan

I have always been a creative of one sort or another. I’ve crocheted hats, knitted socks, doodled, quilted, painted, gardened, baked, sewn clothes, danced, kept a diary and written this blog.

Baby socks I made for no particular reason.

And still I tend to think of my art as secondary, inconsequential, and not terribly important. When in fact it is who I am.

Texas Star, A gift for my mother-in-law that was returned to me when she died.

While recently in Austin I got to see lithographs by Salvador Dali priced at six figures. Some of his drawings don’t look that much different from mine. Maybe you have to be dead to have your art appreciated.

Visiting the Salvador Dali exhibit with my niece.

And then this TED Talk by Amie McNee came across my screen. The Case For Making Art When The World Is On Fire. None of us would argue against the world being on fire, but make art? That seems like fiddling on the Titanic.

One of my wilder creations.

My suggestion is to take the time to listen to her passionate message. It has made me committed to putting down the phone and iPad. This week I dusted off and tuned the ukulele I HAD to have and has sat in a corner for too many years. Perhaps struggling to play it is just what this old brain needs.

Dusted and tuned.

Next week I will be in Merida, Yucatan, for five days, watercolor painting on site around the city with a group of fellow artists. I remember how scared I was the first time I joined this group. There was a wide range of talent, including one woman who had never picked up a paint brush in her life. Her fearlessness inspired me.

Rendezvous 2018

Whatever your interest or skill or lack thereof, just do it. We need your creativity. The world needs it.

DOS TORTAS

Mi Casa Es Tu Casa

11 Jan

I am visiting the States and staying with dear friends Isa and Laird in Austin. When they say “welcome home” they mean it.

Isa and I shared a tiny office at the Health Department many years ago. People told me to be “careful.” She’s difficult and hard to get along with. I found out later that they were telling her the same thing about me.

Yet we hit it off fabulously. We once closed the office door in the afternoon and danced to Shakira’s Hips Don’t Lie and laughed until we cried. It is still our song.

https://youtu.be/DUT5rEU6pqM?si=-gkmXrf19lcj28Yd

I did the Heimlich Maneuver on her one day when she was choking on a carrot. She tells everyone that I saved her life.

I can’t count how many times we’ve stayed at their home. Lisa stayed for months after neck surgery. She helped Isa prepare for their exploratory trip to Costa Rica before Covid.

I was here to hold Isa’s hand while she cried over Laird’s early-onset alzheimers diagnosis.

They have visited us in Mexico, stayed in our home and sat naked on the dock in the sun.

I love being in their home, surrounded by pictures of their grandchildren. They don’t fuss. I am always welcome. Laird’s bearhug is the same although I don’t always know if he knows who I am.

Family

I am truly blessed to have these people in my life. They are our family, no strings attached, which is the best kind to have.

DOS TORTAS

My house is your house.

A Visit From The Ghost Of Christmas Past

25 Dec

I have been quite sick this past week, and something in the fistful of pills I’ve been taking is causing me to have nightmares. Not the stabbing scarey type but, well, last night was the sad, nostalgic kind that woke me in tears.

When snow was fun!

When did I come to hate Christmas? Once upon a time, my Dad would wait until us five kids were all nestled and snug in our beds, to turn our living room into a Christmas wonderland. He stayed up all night, putting up the tree, assembling bicycles, and stuffing the stockings. Wide-eyed, we truly believed that Santa had come.

Once upon a time.

I remember in high school, turning out the lights in our library, (I use the term loosely) and bathing in the glow of blue lights reflecting off the tinsel, and listening to Nat King Cole, Johnny Mathis and Andy Williams. Thank you (NOT) Ghost of Christmas past for stirring up long forgotten memories.

As our own children grew, the scene changed. I can see us in the kitchen, laughing, cooking and recreating my favorite holiday treats, dates stuffed with walnuts and rolled in powered sugar, celery stuffed with cream cheese. I guess we did a lot of stuffing, mostly our faces.

Our children in Mall Santa fotos.

Over time I began to resent the shopping, wrapping and hunting for the perfect gift. The lines at stores, endless traffic, jammed parking lots, and general over consumption. I declared, “no more gift giving!” I’d had enough.

My first Christmas gift from Lisa (1994) A “coupon ” book of dreams.

Moving to Mexico definitely lifted the stress, but I’m afraid the trees, music and holiday everything have crept in even here. My mother-in-law usually wants gifts and for us to put up her tiny plastic tree. This year we’ve all been sick and she doesn’t even care about that.

So there are no decorations, music or signs of Christmas at all. For the most part, I’m fine with it, but I wish the Ghost would leave me alone!

And in the words of Tiny Tim, “God bless us everyone.”

DOS TORTAS

Hard To Believe It’s been Twenty-five Years

14 Dec

When writing about siblings last week, I remembered that this week is the twenty-fifth anniversary of my brother’s death from brain cancer. I thought I’d repost a blog I wrote earlier this year and take a week off.

Still miss you every day Michael.

https://theadventuresofdostortas.com/?s=Michael&submit=Search

DOS TORTAS

Sharing The Story Within Us

12 Oct

“Aging is not for the weak. One day you wake up and realize that your youth is gone, but along with it, so go insecurity, haste, and the need to please… You learn to walk more slowly, but with greater certainty. You say goodbye without fear, and you cherish those who stay. Aging means letting go, it means accepting, it means discovering that beauty was never in our skin… but in the story we carry inside us.” Meryl Streep.

Beauty in the hood.

Almost thirteen years ago, I began this blog to shine a light for others who might like to follow and to let my family and friends know what we were up to on this adventure of living in Mexico. Little did I know how things would change.

You Tube, Instagram, Ticktock and god knows what else are overflowing with stories of people who have self deported. Much like we did, they sold everything, scooped up their families and relocated to an unfamiliar culture, language and environment.

More beauty.

Many are trying to romanticize it all. While I love Mexico, the struggle is real. At least we left by choice.

Our blog has evolved from the Adventures of Dos Tortas to the Aging of Dos Tortas. We are in as unfamiliar a territory as the deportees.

Some days I wonder why I continue to write. I guess I do it for me. My parents and grandparents certainly didn’t prepare me for my seventies. Our experiences are all different but maybe we can be there for each other just a little, and share the story we carry inside us.

DOS TORTAS

Making Dreams Come True

5 Oct

Years ago when I was trying to find myself as a newly minted “baby” dyke, I attended numerous women’s only events. The Michigan Women’s Music Festival blew my mind as I spent a week camping with a few thousand women in the woods of northern Michigan. Sisters were doin’ it for themselves, and I was agog.

View of the main stage.

Locally in Austin we had weekend gatherings that I eagerly participated in. At one retreat I recall joining in for an opportunity to let my mind wander and imagine the life I’d like to create. Eyes closed we were led through a dreamlike visualization process. I came away with a clear vision of living in a community of women. I saw myself wrapped in a towel able to walk to swim. Swimming has always been important to me and a big contributing factor to picking Bacalar and this beautiful Laguna. This week I was up early and capturing the sunrise that is particularly lovely this time of year. Enjoy.

Up before dawn.
Do you feel the heat from that sun?
Such expressive clouds.
Practicing my stroke.

DOS TORTAS

Love At First Sight?

21 Sep

It was thirty-one years ago that she walked around the bar and into my life. Our friends nodded and smiled and knew it would never last. She was rough around the edges, not long out of the military. She smoked and drank and I did neither. I was twelve years older with three children. We both were still living with our exes. Not exactly a match made in heaven.

Our first Christmas 1994

And yet here we are, happier than ever, living our dream together. I’m not saying it hasn’t been work. We’ve learned to accept each other as we are, not tolerance but appreciation. There’s also the art of listening without feeling criticized and taking personal responsibility.

First Valentines Day 1995
Wedding photos 1999
Legal 2014

We have supported each other through major health crises, spending nights together in the hospital, even in one case, sleeping on the floor.

Back Surgery

All in all, it’s been a ride. Thirty-one years is worth celebrating. We certainly didn’t have a crystal ball that night in the bar when we laughed and flirted. If you’d have asked me if love at first sight existed I’d probably have scoffed. But ask me today, and I’d say yes, but it also takes a lot of damn work.

DOS TORTAS

Una Obra De Arte – A Work Of Art

7 Sep

When our air conditioner went out last week, we contacted Mario who had done all the original electrical work on our house. He had worked with a handful of laborers to bring our vision of a home in Mexico into existence.

My favorite spot. Doors lead to our bedroom.
Hand woven Oaxacan rug hangs over our bed.

We hadn’t seen Mario in a while and he brought his wife to see our obra de arte, work of art. Watching his excitement at showing her around his work, gave me new eyes. Living in this house, I sometimes forget how beautiful it is.

Bathroom mural.
More of the bathroom mural.
Back gate with artist made angel ironwork.

I find that many houses in the US are beige, gray, black, white and brown with the occasional touch of color being a turquoise throw pillow. I find neutrality boring. Our house has blue floors! It was one of those risks that could have been a disaster but turned into a WOW. We forget how striking it is because, well, we live here.

Light fixtures.

Thank you Mario for reminding us what an obra de arte, work of art we live in.

Can you tell I love DOTD (Day of the Dead)?
A lovely day today.

DOS TORTAS

Come In – But I Don’t Have Pants On

31 Aug

We were looking for a house sitter and found a friend. Whenever we leave our home in Mexico, we must find a house sitter, someone to care for the dogs and manage the house. Michelle was recommended after she had visited Bacalar last year. We found a real treasure.

Wannabe influencer.

We have had mixed results with previous house sitters. Walking out the door and handing the keys to the house and car to a virtual stranger is not without anxiety and consequences. We have been lucky and any damage over the last twelve years has been repairable.

Michelle added fun to anything she touched.

On several occasions we have found folks who have continued to be friends and returned to hang out on the lake and play with the dogs. But none like Michelle.

This crazy woman fit right into our quirky lives and we will miss her. We became “sisters” and Lisa’s mom became Mom to another daughter. Even the dogs have a new “Auntie Michelle.” She left on Friday with a promise to return. The house already feels empty.

Lisa’s Aunt Linda is also visiting.

Thank you Michelle for coming into our lives and being someone to talk to, a swimming companion, a dish washer, a sous chef and friend to Lisa’s mom. You have added laughter and companionship that we didn’t know we needed.

DOS TORTAS

This Week In Bacalar

24 Aug

I started back to physical therapy this week after six weeks of traveling and minimal exercise. The immediate goal is to walk without a limp and be able to step into my shorts one leg at a time. I’m coming up on a year since my accident and it’s time to kick the healing process into high gear.

Bathroom mirror selfie.

My physical therapist told me that in order to build muscle and improve balance, I need to work out HARD with weights and it’s going to hurt.

Multnomah Falls, Columbia River Gorge

He isn’t wrong. I hurt from my hair to my toes and I’m not even back at the gym yet. We hauled exercise equipment down from the States to Mexico and it’s been put to good use.

Our friends from Austin. This was my first outing after the accident. I was in a wheelchair.

I can now walk stairs, stepping one leg after the other, rather than relying on my uninjured side to do the heavy lifting. Hurray for small improvements, especially considering I only began walking with a cane the end of January. Thanks for all your encouragement and support. Little things make a difference.

DOS TORTAS

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