Vintage Heaven and Free Blueberries

Recently, I went away with the Tattooed man and my kids on a camping trip. I thought I’d share with you a few pictures of this wonderful shop nearby. I saw it in passing, and I just HAD to stop in.

In addition to having wonderful coffee, they also had wonderful vintage things and free blueberries that my daughters ate too many of. Here’s a few pictures of our trip.

I love vintage art so much.

I want this book collection in my home.

I wanted all of the things in this store. Truly. If I had stayed longer, I’d have stayed longer, I would have tried to con the tattooed man into purchasing something for me. Thankfully for him though, I behaved myself.

This past weekend was so much fun and I really had a great time. I loved it and my kids loved it, and the tattooed man tells me he enjoyed himself too.

 

The Nocturnal Life of a Single Mom

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Made some new art recently.

I think I had shown you a painting I made called, “An ode to my mother“. This is another in that series.

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This one is called, “I paint while my daughters lay sleeping”

And it’s true, because I do.

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For me, it seems that I live a nocturnal life, sleeping little and working on my goals almost 24 hours a day. I live this sort of life: the nocturnal one, in which I live and breathe like a little snow owl, sleeping little. It is the life that I choose.

I choose to be this sort of nocturnal person, creating and painting and working towards my goals in the night while my kids lay sleeping. During the day I work a day job, and think of my children all day.

So at night, while my children lay asleep, it becomes the time that I work only for me. No one commands me, no one asks or needs of me. It is just me, and my paintbrushes, making messes and loving the process of it all. It is a sort of meditative thing, this ritual of making art. I put on music. Usually I put on dance music, but sometimes I want a sacred experience and so I put on meditative music or native american chanting music. I love it. It becomes a healing process.

I was talking to Mr. Tattooed man today about the emotional aspect that is me. I am and always have been very aware of my emotions. In the past, I’ve always been around people who were just as emotional as I am. This is the first time in my life that I’ve been surrounded by the total opposite. It can be a bit lonesome at times, but I suppose it forces a person to truly look inward and not impose or push themselves on another. I strive for this.

And so, the night is when I cleanse myself of the tears and weariness. It is when I communicate my sadness or joy. Often I feel that no one really understands this part of me, and I end up seeming like a person who “feels too much”. I am just more AWARE of it a lot more than most people. Few people on the earth are like this, and I was lucky to know one or two people just like me. Their time was up. Their bodies left this earth. And so, the healing begins at night. In the evening, when I have time to not think of anyone else but me. In the evening when I can unwind, have a glass of wine and just B R E A T H E.

This is who I am: nocturnal by nature, living my life at night between the hours of 8 p.m. and 1 a.m.

I live this sort of life, eating, chatting on the phone, and meditating all in a five hour span. Often I wish I could stretch the evenings a bit longer, but eventually sleep IS needed. So, the evening helps me heal. It helps me mourn the death of my best friends, and helps me create.

This is my nocturnal life, the life in which I love to see my daughters asleep, but am happy to sit and create, to write, and just be myself.

Being an empath isn’t easy. Not many understand how one person can feel so much, and sometimes it you think it to be a flaw, this ability to know just how you feel. But this is what life is for me, and this is what it is to be with me. I am packed with emotions. Oh, I calm down a bit in time. But feelings are grand. And you know why? Because there was a time in my life when I shut people away. There was a time in my life when I had the blackest of black hearts. I trusted no one. I wanted no one. I just wanted my daughters and no one else. But I realized that there’s nothing better than sharing life and joy. Life can be beautiful when it is truly felt. And I embrace who I am. I embrace my emotional, nocturnal self, knowing that my life is as delicious as I choose it to be.

And this is the nocturnal single mom.

Happiness and the Single Mom

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I finally finished a crochet project. I’m so happy with it. I finished it off while Mr. Tattooed man and I went with our kids on a day trip. I don’t mind driving, but I’d rather him drive, so I can crochet.

Here’s what I ended up with:

It’s on Ravelry as the Lighthearted Tunic.

I really rather like this top quite a bit.

I have a day job, and the office is very cold, so I figured that even in the hot summer months, I can still rock this tunic top.

I do have this item in my shop for sale, if you’d like something like this made.

In other news, it looks like I might get another tattoo. Yippee! If I manage to get good pictures, I’ll post some up.

Also, I was thinking about something today. I was thinking today, about how my two closest friends passed away recently, and how much I miss them. I liked that they understood me as a person, and could let me be as emotional as I want to be, because they themselves were emotional people. And I think I missed that very much.

What is interesting, is that I really do see that people do come in at the right time. When one door closes, another one really does open. I’m grateful to my cousins Omar and Michael, for reading my texts, and Omar, for the drinks, the conversations, and understanding the madness that is me being a single mom, artist, working mother, and having the time for a person in my life. It’s wonderful to know that you’re never truly alone. I know that I always have someone in my corner, letting me be a little nutty, and letting me talk and talk and talk, and once in a while, calling me out on my shit.

Single moms, we really take on a lot. We wear so many hats. We are mother and father. We are women. We are Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy. We work jobs where often we are one of the only single moms. If you have small children, sometimes the only one who does it all herself, and has small children. It can be draining. It can make a person weary.

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The solace I take, is in  the things that I create, and it is in seeing my daughters, happy and smiling. When I hear my daughters say, “Mama, you’re the best!” Then I know that I’m doing alright.

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It’s a hard road-the one for a single mother. Most of us….we didn’t ask for this. Most of us did not ask to be thrown into the big bad world alone with two small children who depend on you. All the while, we look at our children and think….how the hell am I going to do this? It seems impossible. The idea that we can be happy, seems a daunting and impossible one.

The best advice I ever got, were two tidbits that I carry with me always.

1) No one is worth your tears but your children

2) Art is everywhere

And in the same way that art is everywhere, so is happiness. Life is like perspectives on art. You must choose to see the good in every situation, and if you are a spiritual person, cling to your spiritual path.

Happiness is my main concern. Peace is my way.

I may not have the life I once chose, but life is evolution. Life is change. As humans, we are always growing, always learning, always evolving. You can choose to improve. You can choose to be happy, by simply noticing the great things in your life-the blessings. The more grateful you are, the more you have to be grateful over.

You know?

 

 

Adventures in New Hope

Recently my daughters and I went to an art festival which turned out to be a bit smaller then we expected. We had lots of time on our hands, so instead we went off to New Hope, Pennsyvlania. I had heard lots of great things about it, and really wanted to go there, so this was the perfect excuse to go.

Ice cream. Just because.

We wandered around and discovered an art gallery. I took some pictures of the artwork that I found especially inspiring.

 

On curly hair and straight hair love affairs

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My love affair with straight hair is over, I think. I have had curly hair since I was a kid, and I always hated it.I didn’t know how to manage it. Neither one of my parents have curly hair, and they really had no idea how to help me manage it at all. No one could help me, so I had to figure it out for myself.

As children, we tend to identify ourselves in our parent’s image. Our parents give us a role in which we should see ourselves-through their culture, their likes and dislikes, their style of clothing and so much more. Even if it is not a biological parent you grew up with, you still pick up traits from your parents. It is the way of life, and the way our brain works. And when you have hair that is as wild and untamed as your personality, it can leave you with conflicted feelings when neither parent shares this madness with you.

So for me, curly hair was a bit of a curse. I couldn’t manage it. I couldn’t control it. 25 years ago, there were not the plethora of hair care products for curly hair as there are now. We had the old fashioned tips of using Mayonnaise on your hair and such, but there were no real choices for women with curly hair.

In high school my hair was a lot curlier than it is now. It was very intense and kinky. It has relaxed on it’s own a bit after the birth of my two daughters, and I can manage it well now.

Before my divorce I had very long hair. I had grown it out for years. I cut it when I started going through my divorce, but I miss it now. But I’ve decided that my love affair with straight hair is over.

I started straightening my hair when I became single again, because the curls had relaxed enough that I was able to do that. My hair used to be so curly that I had to chemically relax my hair in order to get it straight. I decided years ago to stop chemically straightening my hair because it is just not good for your hair at all, and I wanted to live a more natural holistic lifestyle. So, I stopped. My hair became a statement not just of who I am, but of who I am as a Latina woman. I was and am proud of my heritage and to me, my hair made a statement of that. So I never went straight, not for many years later.

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Fifteen years later I went through a divorce. I found myself become less June Cleaver and more Gloria Steinem. I found myself wanting to be pretty again, and dolled up again. I wanted change. I got bored with the same hair style. So, I cut my hair. I decided to straighten it, not because I wanted to be someone else, but because I was craving something different. I believe that boredom is a sign that it’s time to mix things up a bit. So, I went with the straight hair again but since my hair relaxed so much (after I gave birth to my daughters), I didn’t need a chemical relaxer. I used natural oils. I loved my hair straight. I really did. I loved that it looked great in a ponytail, and didn’t have to do much to it. I felt like I finally had the hair I envied as a child. Finally.

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And now, I have come to the path of boredom again. I like it straight, but it is frying my hair a bit, and I’m ready to end my love affair with straight hair and embrace my curls again.

“Her hair….it is more than that which adorns her….it is….unspeakable madness” – From my poem, “She speaks in poems & daydreams”.

 

On Copy-Cats

There’s nothing new under the sun. You can think you’ve innovated something, but chances are, you’re not the only one. Think of the most unique idea you’ve had your whole life, then google the said idea. You’re not alone, are you? Nothing is new. I’m sure there are plenty of Puerto Rican beatnick dead head single moms that work a day job and run a blogging business at night. But I’m one of them. The immediate thought of course, is to think that this steals from you. What in Buddhism is called “The Ego”, then rears it’s ugly head, thinking itself so grand that no one should take from it or feel inspired by it. We take it personally. How DARE this person steal from me! How dare MY idea be taken! But…..there’s nothing new under the sun. We see a person walking down the street wearing the same shirt or dress and become annoyed or angry.

You know what makes an idea unique? The YOU behind it. YOU make it unique. YOU make it different. YOU. There’s nothing new under the sun, but there’s only one you. There’s only one grand and glorious you that makes the world a little more interesting.

If you and I wear the same perfume, did you know that it will smell differently on each of us? This is because there is only one you, and your body chemistry is different then mine.

I really do not care anymore about copycats. There’s only one me. And there’s nothing new under the sun.

Art on the Farm!

This weekend, I went to an event in Yardley, Pennsylvania with my daughters, called “Art on the Farm”. It was a bit smaller of an event then what we expected, but we did have a bit of fun:

We made necklaces out of cut up straws and paper flowers. Dakota decided to make hers in a pattern.

They had free kite kits, so we put a couple together, and tried our hand at flying a kite.

Of course, this would be much easier in Coney Island, at 8 am or something, when the wind is quite high.

Fun was had by all three of us, all in all.

On Love & Dating-UPDATED

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I’ve been thinking about something lately. These days, the dating world has gotten to be much like a jungle. It is a crazy sort of world an I am an old fashioned girl when it comes to dating. I believe that if I like a boy, I turn my attention to him. I don’t have enough space in my head for more than one.

I have thick skin and an elastic heart, as says Sia in her song. Somehow I still give love a chance. I still think, “well, maybe there’s someone out there for me. Maybe this one isn’t just like all the rest.” But most men, they look at my body-my curves and the shape of my body-and they only see the exterior. But I believe in love. I really do. I believe in holding hands, watching crappy television shows, staying up late and eating crappy food, and kissing in the rain.

To me, love is not so complicated. Love and being “in like” with someone isn’t really super complicated. It isn’t.

When I like you, I’ll show it. And I do not give up. And I’ll tell you how beautiful I think you to be. They aren’t just words that I tell any other fellow. They mean something to me. I say nothing if it does not mean something to me.

So if I’ve told you I like you, you can be rest assured that I mean it.

 

 

An Ode to my Mother

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made a painting the other night.

 

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I guess this poem speaks of how I view my mother.

Lately I’ve been dealing with my day job, and finding a balance between work and art. It is tough, but what helps me is meditation. Daily meditation keeps me sane.

 

The story of SHE

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Made some new art.

 

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she is

mother

father

fighter

artist

writer

she will live and breathe these roles

till the day that she is gone

6 feet under

she

hangs her head not in sadness

but from the weight of it all

and sometimes it just gets all in her head

it just lingers

these roles she plays

these roles put on her

but she has thick skin

and an elastic heart

she lives for the simplicity of a smile

for the beauty of nature

laughter

crappy television shows that her daughters watch with her

and her way of ordering food in a sort of Harry met sally Kafkaesque sort of way,

she lives for these moments

these moments when her lips touch his

when he smiles

when he calls her

Palomita

she is alleviated from the weight of the world with all these things she chooses to surround herself with: art, poetry, music and love

and these beautiful things in life

they make the stresses of life

just a bit sweeter.