stating the obvious.

Don’tcha just love those people who state the obvious?!! That’s me. I’m HER!! I’m the person that gushes “Wow, your eyes are green!” or, “Ooh, you have dimples!”.

I just heard myself to the young girl with the red hair (I’m sure she already knew the color of her hair ūüôĄ). She grinned. Her dad said, “she always gets the attention”.

I kinda don’t want to, but some may find offense so, I apologize if I cause any.

“Wow, you’re a red head!” in my mind means, I love your red hair! It’s lovely! It’s my favorite!

I love freckles. I have freckles, so I always tell people with freckles, they “have freckles”. Duh!! I do the same to beholders of dimples or those with a gap in the middle of their smile. Marks of beauty imho. Do I need to point them out, probably not?? I dunno.

Recently I was told of a young boy who once too often heard adults tell him how “pretty” his long curly eyelashes were. Thinking “pretty eyelashes” belonged on girls, he went to the bathroom and cut his off. Red lights shine brightly at the thought of a little kid with scissors so close to the eye. Fortunately, it’s a story told with humor as he grew into an adult with pretty eyelashes.

My children and husband walk a few paces ahead of (or behind) me. I figure this is to offer the pre or post apology. “Please don’t mind my mom”.

I will remark on the color or pattern of someone’s shirt, tie, dress or socks. I hear music in people’s voices. I hear authenticity in an accent. My curiosity holds no sinister veil. I simply find excitment in the individuality, or joy in the shared traits. It’s all just threads in this tapestry of life. My comments are my awkward way of saying “hello”, starting a conversation or telling someone I see them. I see their worth.

When I was fourteen, the owner of the little market where I bought my after school snack of orange soda and Almond Joy (ūü§Ę) told me, it was always nice when I entered his store because I always greeted him with a lovely smile. One time when I was in the store, he suggested I enter the “Miss Teenage America” contest. He gave me the paperwork which I filled out at home with my mom.

The talent portion of the application was the challenge. I decided I would sing and dance (even though I’d never sung or danced in front of anyone). My mom laughed at the thought and suggested I share my artwork. I filled in “sing and dance”. Turned out it wasn’t a problem as I didn’t make it far enough in the contest for it to matter.

The steps it took to participate in that contest from self evaluation to being interviewed, then celebrating the accomplishments of others were new and memorable experiences I’ve been able to take with me throughout my life.

I never forgot the kind spirit in which that man complimented me. I think things like that go a long way.

Words of Wisdom from Walnut Creek.

rainydayThe owner of the really cool green linen jacket that hung in the¬†lifeless cubicle, finally returned to the office. I¬†noticed¬†the jacket when I¬†began working a few weeks¬†earlier. It was¬†simple in it’s design, however, it was the unique color that attracted my attention.¬†I wondered why the jacket was left to collect¬†dust all those weeks. Perhaps¬†it was meant to be¬†a decoy in case the “boss” walked by, giving¬†illusion that this person was at work, but simply away from his desk?

Brian, the owner of the jacket was an engineer who had been working in Lisbon collecting data that was to be included on a map my department was creating.

While we listened to music from a portable CD player, Brian would list off the longitude and latitude points where cell sites were located. I would find the points on the big gigantic map and stick on little yellow dots to represent the cell sites. For hours that turned into days, I would place yellow dots on the big gigantic map. The map would later be photographed, reduced, and finally used in a presentation that offered cellular phone services to the country of Portugal.

Before moving to the Bay Area from Southern California, I went back to school to hone my  graphic design skills and learn the computer just so I could get a job where I stuck yellow dots on a gigantic map.

groceriesBrian worked for the international side of the company and would travel often, sometimes for weeks at a time. When he was in Rome (having his pocket picked while giving directions to Bocca della Verità), it was his birthday and his mother arranged to have a chocolate cake delivered to his hotel room. I remember thinking how nice it was to have care packages and such while on these assignments. Kinda like being away at summer camp or in the dorm at college and grandparents would write and send the occasional treat to make you feel special.

I agreed to collect Brian’s mail from his apartment and send it¬†to him through the inter office transfer system while he was away. Along with the¬†mail I would¬†include¬†a personal “greeting card” that was printed¬†from¬†the computer. I’d¬†create¬†an illustration¬†with¬†a simple phrase¬†that said hello. My own little Hallmark¬†;¬†I called them “Words of Wisdom from Walnut Creek”.
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I remember printing¬†one of the¬†illustrations. It still needed a little tweaking, so I left that first version on the desk of one of the assistants. The next morning, the assistant saw my illustration and asked if I could print¬†another copy because she wanted to give it to a friend. No problem.¬†From that point on, I began making¬†multiple copies of my “Words of Wisdom”¬†which¬†were being pinned up in cubicles throughout the office. I printed them weekly¬†and it became a cheery little way to wish everyone a happy day.

I never considered myself an illustrator, but creating these helped me develop¬†a style by scanning my doodles and tracing them in Adobe¬†Illustrator.¬†I’d thought of starting a¬†line of greeting cards, but… well…. uh….

I’d borrow phrases I read somewhere and¬†create an illustration to go with it¬†or I’d use my own wit and wisdom to come up with a something.¬†Sometimes¬†I’d take a quote from the Bible and the illustration¬†would be used for¬†the cover of our church bulletin.

On the top floor of our building, the Executive Offices, there was a rotating art gallery. It was run by a gallery owner in San Francisco that brought¬†in works from artist sall over the world.¬†At one point the employees were given opportunity to display their own work. I printed a couple of my “Words of Wisdom” in a large format¬†and they were used in that exhibit.

Recently I rearranged furniture, got rid of some “junk”¬†and¬†moved things into what used to be my son’s room to¬†create a nice working space for me and my many projects. In a box I found some¬†old Zip Drives the copies of my “Words of Wisdom”. I decided to update the files and save them into a more current format. A walk down a digital memory lane.

These files are nearly 25 years old. Brian and I have been married 22 years years ago. Time flies.

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Lost and Found.

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The Phone.

Hanging out with my sisters and our¬†mother one Thanksgiving weekend, we¬†walked into a¬†casino. I¬†threw $60 dollars at a slot machine,¬†it caught it,¬†and five minutes later, I¬†was ready to go home. ¬†My mom was¬†seated at a machine dropping in nickels one at a time and getting a¬†return in multiples with each push of the button. I hovered around her and grunted until¬†she¬†reached into her fanny pack, pulled out a twenty and said, “bring me back ten.” Okay!!! Somebody else’s money!

Two seconds later, with $400 in my hand,¬†I found my mom again. “What time is it?” she asked. “We’ve been here 5 minutes and 2 seconds, I’m $330, dollars ahead, it’s¬†time to go!” I reached for my phone intending¬†to touch base with¬†my sisters but couldn’t find it. It probably¬†fell from¬†my lap when I got up from that last slot machine! I retraced my steps but the phone wasn’t¬†anywhere in sight.

The remainder of the day circled around the¬†use of¬†the ‘Find My¬†iPhone‘ app. My husband joined us at the casino as the iPhone app was new to me, and it’s capabilities came across with conflicting results through tales from my sisters.

The¬†adventure filled our¬†hours. Like treasure hunters deciphering a map, we ended up at¬†a convenience store near the¬†casino where a grey bearded man dressed in a black Members Only knock-off was holding¬†my beeping¬†phone¬†in his pocket. With noisy slot machines in the background, the police (who just happened to be there) and a mall cop¬†swooped in and confiscated my property. After all was said and done, I heard one officer say, “That was cool, I’m gonna have to get that iPhone app!”

 

The Keys.

A couple of months ago, I¬†unlocked the door, walked in the house, set the keys down, went¬†to my easel and started painting. Less than 10 minutes later, my husband¬†asked for the keys. “Aren’t they on the table? I just put them down.”

They vanished from sight.

I once read a book about¬†the tiny little people that live in houses and¬†borrow things when the big people¬†aren’t looking. Things like keys, pencils, socks and¬†sunglasses will mysteriously disappear. One minute they’re on the table, the next minute they’re gone. ¬†I felt like my keys had been “borrowed” by the little people.

The next morning, I still couldn’t find the keys and things got complicated. I needed to get my daughter to school, but the locked Toyota was in the driveway directly behind the¬†Volvo that was parked in the garage.¬†I was frantically trying to squeeze the Volvo through the¬†ridiculously tight space¬†when a¬†police car¬†patrolling the neighborhood approached the house…. Officer Alan stopped and asked if I needed¬†help.¬†Much to¬†my daughter’s¬†disdain, she arrived to school in a¬†police car. With a wink, he promised not to¬†turn on the lights until he got close to the school.

Three weeks later, I noticed the water in the sink next to my easel was draining a bit slow.  I placed my hand in the garbage disposal, and found my keys.

 

The Purse.

Last Friday after my daughter and I finished shopping at the art store, I opened the rear door of the car and placed our new items inside. We got in and began our drive back to Walnut Creek for lunch.

Once inside the carpark,¬†I realized I didn’t have the small clutch I’d been carrying. I called the art store to ask if I’d left it there. We checked inside the car several times, but we couldn’t find it.¬†I then¬†drove to the bank, cancelled and replaced my cards, and my daughter and I carried on with the rest of our day.

Irritated with myself as I realized I probably placed the purse on the top of my car and drove away. I also imagined¬†I’d left it in the store where¬†someone picked it up. There were several¬†scenarios that could have taken place. I tried not to be upset as I knew things could have been worse. There wasn’t anything of much value¬†in the purse. I’d replaced my bank cards. My phone and my keys were in my jacket pocket. The most annoying thing would be going to the DMV to replace my driver’s license.

My thoughts kept going to the person who picked up my purse¬†and the disappointment I felt towards them. It happens all the time. It’s easy to walk away with something that doesn’t belong to you. Keep the twenty dollar bill. Maybe try to purchase something using the ATM card. As tempting as that might be,¬†it’s just as easy to go up to the clerk and say, I found this in the parking lot. I know what I would do.

I remembered the man that picked up my phone a few years ago in the casino. I remembered him being near the slot machine when I went back to look for it. My sister spoke to him. Not too long after, once I figured out how to use the Find My iPhone app, the phone beeped for hours in his pocket.

I want to believe in good. I want to be good. I want to do good. Spread good. But life gets in the way. Doesn’t it?

Saturday morning, less than twenty four hours later, special delivery. My purse was returned.  There was a note inside.

Hello!

Found this on the road in Oakland today. Your lipstick was smashed by a passing car so I threw it away to avoid further mess. I hope calling American Express so they could let you know it had been found does not cause any complications. Have a nice day!

Dustin

Thank you Dustin. Your kindness brought me to tears.