The Walking Dead

This is NOT happiness. This historical site, sadly, is in place of a working community of local artists. All kicked out of their studios to make room for false adobe and fictional history lessons.

Most of us are so well stocked in our entertainment centers which double as homes (myself included) that we can ignore the disappearance of a bright and lively downtown. But not me. It is too close. This is the corner closest to me and yes Borders might have been corporate but NO ONE sits on the porch of this shop and plays music or chess. NO ONE meets up with friends inside to share company. Just saying.

Seeing walls like this makes me itch to pick up a brush and continue the designs.

You know you are still on Planet Earth when you can walk alongside a curb and see a stripe of art and pattern and a simple bouquet.

Homage to the man himself and I miss Mr. Bradbury! Validation as a writer would be oh so good. YES. That I can agree to.

A moment of PURE JOY on state Street. This little girl had just stepped out of the crowd and joined this man in a song. How sweet is this? They are high fiving  to wild applause. We long for this connection, don't we?

Don't be depressed by my dreamy sort of wandering post. I took a short nap after my thousand mile bike ride (see yesterday's post if you don't believe me) and I woke up all flushed and disoriented and called out for my dead dog before I remembered. Damn. I hate that.

70 degrees and scattered clouds. They have scattered so far and away, they are gone. I am going to piece this post together like a poem. Finding my passion. Finding your passion. Finding one's passion. I was reading about one of the chefs from the MC series which is a completely consuming addiction, and her blog following went from 7 to 7 billion hits daily after she appeared on the show. I watch the kids on PR and they say the same thing that all of the chefs say:"I want to spend my life doing this. It is my passion and what I was born to do." Lucky. Lucky people who know. Lucky people who can pick one ball and run through the goal with it. But then, I wonder, what? And what about validation? I have no desire to mass market. Thank you to the people who have worn themselves out figuring ways I could make something and sell it. It is true, I am jealous of people who have done this, but I am sticking to a small but loud voice that begs me to consider: "Doesn't the world have enough stuff?" The TAXMICE are different. They are my anti-nervous breakdown and nibble away at my back taxes project and like all hand done ANYTHING-they are labor intensive and marketing? Oh yeah right. Marketing. Validation. All of my FABULOUS baking equipment and mixer and such are going to my daughter because 1) my oven is broken 2) I have no one to bake for. As I was sorting through all of my stuff I found a business name and license and plan for "Lucky Cakes" and all of my recipes from the old Roma and a letter from Julia Childs and there WAS a passion of mine before the lack of any finances and most of the population declining wheat, fat, and joy in their baked goods hit home. Publishing. YES. Here is an area where I have not completely exhausted possibilities. Still working on this one because gawd knows how much I love to write. Sigh. And don't even begin to think that I haven't sought help for financing any of my "dreams and passions".  For gawds sake!!! I wrote EVERYONE and THEIR MOTHER asking for help--even OPRAH!! So THANKS for humoring me YET AGAIN. I am going to stroll our streets and compile a few shots of thoughts, observations, and feelings, and do one of the things I do best: witness life around me and tell you about it. Love always. Here's to a good week ahead. OK? Seriously. A great week.