The Tam Prize

For Dan's birthday a dear friend gave him one of his paintings.

This isn't the best picture of Ron Throop's painting, but it's what I've got on me right now. Notice the little triangular guy placed throughout the piece?

His name is Tam, and he was invented by Ron's 10 year old daughter, Sophie.

Ron entered an art show with two pieces, neither one having Tam on them, but brilliant nonetheless. Extraordinary, really. Dan and I decided we would honor Ron with our own award, so we set out to make our very own Tam prize with Dan's tie-dyed fabrics.

Here's the mastermind behind the pattern making...

I sewed the face together complete with alpaca dredlocks for his eyebrow.

And here he is upon completion...

And then we have one "mad" artist presenting the award to another who has chosen to hide behind his hand.

C'mon, have you ever seen a happier face on anyone??? And I'm talking about the man, not the Tam... Congratulations, Ron! You are an amazing artist and writer, and Dan and I are so privileged to call you friend.

Coffee Moments

Just realise you are dreaming a dream you call the world and stop looking for ways out. The dream is not your problem. Your problem is that you like one part of your dream and not another. Love all or none of it, and stop complaining. When you have seen the dream as a dream, you have done all that needs to be done.~Sri Nisargadatta Maharaj


This is a quote that I got on Facebook today from Rainbow Treehouse. It applies to me more than I thought it could. You see, yesterday I chose to skip out for a bit on this dream. I had donated blood at the hospital. While relaxing in a chair and drinking some fruitlike drink, people were asking me how I was doing. I answered or I didn’t. I just wanted them to leave me alone. Then suddenly my perspective came from the ceiling. I saw the tops of their heads as they were busily talking amongst themselves. I didn’t hear the words, but I saw frantic movements – heads shaking, fingers pointing, and apparently voices raised because men in white coats took me to a reclining chair and packed my neck in ice. As soon as that ice connected with my skin, I was no longer at the ceiling.

I laid in the recliner looking at the mountains outside the windows and cried because I didn’t want to come back. The feeling I had had at the ceiling was one of immense calmness. Nothing mattered. Absolutely nothing. It didn’t matter that there was no money in my pockets. It didn’t matter that I didn’t have a car, and it really didn’t matter that my phone was going to be shut off shortly. None of it mattered. I had been in total peace, and I didn’t want to come back.

So, after being packed in ice for awhile, we gave it another go. I went back to the chair with some more juice. This time as soon as I sat down I remember putting my head back. I heard the man next to me complaining about people at a coffee shop, and then up I went again. It was just so lovely above it all. The voices stopped. I saw people moving, but I heard nothing. It was tranquility at its finest, and this time I meant to stay, at least until those white coats came back to haul me to the recliner again and pack me with twice as much ice. This time one of them stayed with me and kept talking. He kept getting after me every time I closed my eyes. I just wanted him to shut up and let me sleep, but he wasn’t having anything to do with that.

Needless to say, I didn’t get to go back to ceiling surfing. I finally got out of the hospital and back home. And today I read that quote from Rainbow Treehouse. Love it all, huh?

I’m finding the loving it all part a little difficult right now because I’m feeling indifferent. Tammy’s been getting tired of hearing the “I don’t cares”, but that’s how I’m feeling. She’s been on a rampage about our circumstances today. Me? I’m walking and smiling. There’s nothing I can do. I showed up at the hospital today to get more of my paperwork going for the job I applied for, but nothing could be done today due to their protocol. Okay, so not today. Next…

So, I went to my job where I sit in a store that sells artwork, mine included. Not a customer came in. Okay. Next…

When someone else came in to relieve me, I walked down the street to a yarn shop where they dye their own fibers. When I crossed the threshold, I just stood there looking at all the yarns hanging on the walls, the hats hand-dyed and felted, the baskets of roving, the knitted scarves, the shelves of books, and I cried. I held my breath as tears fell down my cheeks. I was in heaven. My heart opened wide and I just looked from the wool dolls to the felted jackets. Sweet baby jesus, I was home. I couldn’t move. I was in awe. I put my hand to my chest and just looked at the rows and rows of hand-dyed yarns.

The person working there said, “Wow, we love it when someone comes in who appreciates this so much.”

I couldn’t take my eyes off every single fiber in that place. She showed me felted purses and told me that everything in there was handmade, and the yarns were all hand-dyed in New Mexico. I knew I didn’t want to leave, but others started piling in, so I walked next door to an artist’s gallery and ended up making a new friend with the woman running the show there.

A few doors down is one of the coolest stores in town called Moxie. It’s owned by another new friend of mine, Katie. She wants to sell some of my artwork, so I promised I’d get it to her tomorrow morning.

This town is the most artistic, loving, accepting place I’ve ever known. I’m learning rather quickly that all my previous beliefs have been bullshit. I’ve stripped myself of absolutely everything materialistically, and I’m learning a new way of living. It’s much freer. It’s definitely scarier, and I’m learning to trust that I’m okay, over and over again. This is by far the hardest thing I’ve done so far – to be that peace I felt while ceiling surfing no matter what shows up in my life.

And one of the nicest, if not the best, occurrences in my life has been reconnecting with someone I met forty years ago. Our conversations go with me throughout my day. I carry his words with me as I sit in the store or walk down the street. I remember the sound of his voice, and no matter what’s going on at the time, I can smile easily.

I told him last night that all I wanted to do was lay down with him outside and let the sun heat up our faces, and at night be able to see the stars and the moon and be silent while wrapped up in each other. I want life to be as simple as that. My new friend at the art gallery called it “coffee moments” when nothing but a good sip of joe would be the most pressing thing of the day.

My coffee moments. I like that. I’ve spent my life creating urgencies as if every decision I made was life or death. I’ve run offices, done taxes, hired and fired employees, and now I want coffee moments all day long. I want to take a break from heaviness, and lay down in the grass with Dan and feel the sun on my face, feel his fingers on my spine, and as the day turns into night, gaze up at the stars together in silence. I want to feel the cool breeze ripple our hair, and in silence speak the greatest language of all – peace. Now those are my kind of coffee moments.

the icing on my cake

My first full day in Taos was today. I worked at a store that now has my artwork hanging, and then I volunteered with Tammy handing out Free Trade literature and chocolates at a Halloween event. First day in town and on my feet all day, meeting new people and spending time with friends. And speaking of friends, we stopped by a store owned by someone we recently met in town and looked at all that she's selling. Not only that, she had quite a bit of her own artwork for sale. The once Ms. Corporate America chucked it all for a life doing what she loves. The same goes for the two people who also have products in the store where I worked this morning. The women on either side of this store do the same. I am here in Taos surrounded by artists.


Finally, Tammy and I made our way over to a coffee shop where we talked to the barista, who we'd met before and knew him to be a massage therapist. Well, today we found out in between cups of coffee that he also carves beautiful figures out of stone. Then he introduces us to the man sitting to my right, who happened to also be a stone carver. Then, in walked a man who supplies them with a lot of their stone. Again, here I was surrounded by artists. The stone collector said he'd never had a job in his life. He only did what he loved.

I've never been in a community of people before that followed their dreams so religiously. This is common practice here. The desire for material things doesn't exist with these people. Simplicity and joy in what they're doing is everything. A good day starts sitting at the coffee shop first thing in the morning philosophising and slowing down. We were asked to join them in the morning because "women were needed -- too many men."

These are people who have few time constraints, a whole lot of dreaming going on, and excited creativity brewing. Wow! I found home.

Another thing I find fascinating is that none of these people drink. They don't hang out in bars. Instead they're in coffee shops, their stores, or their studios. I'm rather taken with this whole concept. They absolutely love what they do with their time. They're happy and open with others. I can't tell you how many people I now call my friends here in Taos, and last night was my first night to spend here.

We're staying in a beautiful home, luxurious in fact. The man who owns it is out of town. He left his key with the person I worked with today, and he met Tammy and I just last Wednesday. We spent maybe a couple of hours together and then he offered us his house. Welcome home, Jill and Tammy. Welcome home indeed.

And then there's the men we've met. I met my guy about a month ago, and now he lives down the street from me here in Taos. Honest to God, the nicest man I've ever met. I didn't think much of a sustainable relationship with him, because it hasn't felt like anything I've ever had before -- no fireworks, no craziness, no longing, no needing anything from each other. Just this amazing comfortable, lovely feeling when I'm with him or when I think about him. We went out last night. We christened my new place, and this morning while I was working, he came to see me. I just looked up from the front desk and saw him walk through the door. I didn't know I could smile so broadly. I also had this little blip that flashed through my head -- I saw us doing this years down the road. Nice...

Now, Tammy and I are looking at opening a storefront of our own while still having my artwork in two different stores right now, and running businesses on the internet. We're also writing articles, putting together book material, and creating product line for the new store.

A lot has happened since I first met Tammy last June. We are not the same people, not even close. We're much calmer, more sure of what we want, and determined to get it, no matter what. And magically, the people and circumstances keep appearing. Over and over and over. Yes, we get discouraged. Yes, we get overwhelmed. And, yes, many times we've thought of throwing in the towel and just getting jobs. Then we moved to Taos and were met by so many people who have done exactly what it is we set out to do. Their joy is palpable. Their lives are simple and fun and full of friends. Sitting with them this evening made me more sure that this is what I want, this is where I want to do it, and to have Tammy and my guy with me is truly the best icing on this girl's cake!