REDONDOWRITER'S SACRED ORDINARY

The Late Ric Masten Still an Inspiration

This is not a sad post; it's a memorial to an extraordinary man poet, composer, philosopher and musician: Ric Masten. Though his blog and his music and poetry, he allowed all of us to journey with him during his long time battle with prostate cancer. His daughter Jerri reported his peaceful death on May 15 in Big Sur. This article about Ric’s life ran in the Monterey County Weekly. If you do nothing else, if you go to Ric's website, listen to his signature song, "Let It Be a Dance." I don't know how to embed it.

Jerri kept all of Ric’s friends and followers updated during the last weeks of his life, when he became too ill to go to his blog. Yesterday she said this would be her last e-mail about her dad and she included a poem she had written about him as she scattered his ashes this week. Billie Barbara, Ric’s wife, recently broke her hip and she has been diagnosed with early stage Alzheimers. Ric had so hoped he would die first, but, it didn’t work that way. Though we are sad, Ric was an extraordinary man who continues to teach us how to live, age and die. I am so grateful I knew this man.

Perfect 7-23-08

by Jerraldine Hildreth Masten Hansen 

That's me Jerri,  Ric's oldest daughter

It’s just a quiet Wednesday

The 23rd of July

I hit the speed limit on Friday

A new year for me but without you

First the dog died our Sheelah

And then you Dad

Lightning struck

And the fires came

Blackened our landscape

Your funeral pyre

It filled my lungs

Dark brown

I was afraid

I kept busy

 

I piled your paintings in the car

Stacked between my favorite rugs

Irreplaceable

I carried your ashes

In my purse for weeks

Waiting for today

To put order back

A quiet Wednesday

The smoke is clearing

Today I feel my grief

 

I empty the car

And hang your paintings

One by one

My memories

The last one hung is my beginning

Bixby beach the year I was born

 

I am here... Today

Liked you asked me Dad

To watch your bones

Join in the dance of surf and sand

I think of Joe and Norm

I keep looking up

To the sky

To the bridge

I look ahead

And behind

The long path

I see you

Carrying me piggy back

Through this enchanted forest

You my sturdy steed

I, your princess

 

Today our last walk together

I carry you on my back

Your first born

I have not walked here

In all these years

You have been ill

 

The path is overgrown

I feel the sting

Of so many nettles

So much is changed

But I still know my way

Arms overhead

I press forward

With one last push

I am through

Out in the light

The beach is PERFECT

Someone has left

A totem of stacked stones

An island in the middle of the stream

A place to leave you in honor

 

I sit and write

In your favorite sweater and hat

Your bell

Your original hippy bell

Sounds my way

And...here you are

In sand castles

And 4th of July

Camp outs

And trout fishing

The smell of sea and bacon

Turpentine and linseed oil

The canvases of my life

The happiest times

I can remember

 

I am growing old now

And I don't know what to do

All these days ahead

Without you

I AM GRIEVING

 

I rub your ash across my feet

And wade into the river

Atop a large flat rock

Are seven stacked stones

I spread you like mortar

Between them

I beat my chest and scream and wail

My tears fill my hands

Then to the oceans edge it spills

 

You seemed so white

And then

Were swallowed up

And disappeared

Into kelp and foam

 

I've held some of you back

To leave on the road

And the trail home

Bread crumbs

 

My fingers are dusted with white powder

I carry you under my nails

And between my toes

 

The sea seemed so loud when I arrived

Now it whispers

And I am ok

And you are ok

And its time to go home.

 

 

 

Earthquake: You Never Get Used to Them

Just a few minutes ago, as I was preparing a post for Sacred Ordinary, it grew very quiet for a second, I swear. And then there was a jolt followed by a rolling motion that lasted, they say for 30 seconds. I live in Redondo Beach and the epicenter is in Chino Hills, about 40 miles from here, in San Bernardino County. They say it's a 5.8 but they don't know if there is any serious damage anywhere. I could hear glass breaking so I've got to go through the house and see what has happened. The really scary part is that they don't know yet if this is a fore-shock for a larger quake. Cell phone service is down but my landline isn't working either. Within 5 minutes, the fire trucks went out from the station a half block away. 

If you have never felt an earthquake, each one is a different experience, but none of them are pleasant. Having been born here, I've experienced several. This one was really rolling so I immediately became sick to my stomach. Then I heard glass breaking and the lamps were swinging; Cookie began to bark. I tried to walk through the house, but I couldn't stay upright without holding on the walls so I stayed in a doorway. Something primal happens during quakes--a flight or fight response, I think--gut level fear.

I could hear my neighbors gathering in the courtyard so I finally engaged with human beings when I yelled out a window from upstairs. Electricity is on so I'm listening to TV in the background. Disneyland's rides are closed down and schools have evacuated children to the playing fields. There has been runway damage to the Ontario and John Wayne airports; LAX is OK. Reports say there is property damage, but apparently no one has been hurt.

My sister lived one mile from the Northridge quake and that one was bad, even here, 30 miles across town. I remember one quake when I was feeding my baby many years ago and we lost a lot of dishes and our cement porch separated from the house. When I was a kid I remember one quake where my bed, which was on wheels on a cement floor, rolled across the room. 

Ooooh, I'm so sick to my stomach. More later. 

Stretch Your Money and Get Best Deals

Two weekends ago, the USA Weekend insert into the Daily Breeze, our local paper, caught my eye because there was a photo of a pink pig--this pink pig. The article I read with interest is "Save Smart: 103 tips to stretch your money and get the best deal on everything from groceries and gas to hotels and haircuts.

Writer Walecia Konrad uncovers a myriad of ways to save on gas, groceries, clothes, haircuts and services, travel, dining out, entertainment, garden and lawn care, and furniture. All the links in the article are live. Many of these tips are ones I know, but I learned new things, too.

I had never heard of Room Saver, for example. And I would never have thought of negotiating a deal in a clothing store. I learned to bargain in stores when we used to spend a lot of time in Mexico, but I've always thought it was tacky in the U.S. and have always assumed retailers have only fixed prices available unless something is on sale.

Here are a few more sites that Frugal Fran likes to use:

Cool Savings

The Grocery Game

My Savings

My Coupons

So, do you have tips on how to save money that people might like to know about? 

Are You Fit to Marry?

This past week I have been going through boxes of old photos and the memorabilia of my paternal grandparents and my own parents. It is always so poignant to do this and sometimes really amusing. Look at the title of this little booklet, "The Truth Regarding the Most Dreadful Menace of Humanity: Distributed in conjunction with the Greatest Moral Photo Drama of the Day--Are You Fit to Marry?" It was written by "Author James Lawrence Brooks, S.S., noted writer and lecturer and dedicated to the welfare of mankind." Unfortunately, there is no date and my research so far hasn't turned up the exact era, though it was in with other things of my grandmother dated in the early 1900s. 

The booklet was written about the horrors of venereal disease and the author refers to contracting one as a lack of physical fitness. 

Excerpt: "Without doubt, the most serious problem confronting the people of the world today is physical fitness of the young man and the young woman before marriage. That is the age when romance is in bloom and youth, carefree and happy, sees nothing of the dangers that lurk in the pathway before them. It has been stated by an eminent mind that fear of venereal diseases acts as a deterrent to immorality. The writer feels that this is a widespread delusion. Fear is a very poor deterrent under any circumstances. History shows where prisoners were boiled alive for some petty crime, but this cruel and unusual punishment did not put an end to their wrongdoings." 

There are other pamphlets among grandma's stuff about sexuality and marriage as well and when I scan them, it does bring a smile to my face.

And yet, I'll admit I was pretty damned innocent when I got married in 1958. Someone should have prepped me more. 

In the same vein, I'm doing some summer "light reading" and thoroughly enjoying Susan Isaac's "Long Time No See." I had never read anything by her before. Judith's husband suddenly died and a few year's later she is thinking about him. 

Judith says, "When I was by myself, mostly I thought about Bob. True, he and I hadn't had a fairy-tale marriage. Still, even when all that's left is polite conversation and low-wattage marital sex, you have to remember (I'd told myself during those years we were together) that once upon a time it must have been a love story. I guess I always half expected the plot would get moving again: Some incident will touch off a great conflict in our relationship. Then, lo and behold, not only will the air between us finally clear, but there'd be romance in it! The two of us will walk hand in hand into a sunset, happily ever after--or until one of us went gently into the night in our eighth or ninth decade."

Lordy, lordy, that's what I thought, too. Any comments? 

Thinking About a Stay-cation This Summer?

With the economy affecting most of us, the new word around town is stay-cation. Enjoy a planned vacation in your own neighborhood, in other words, or to somewhere that isn't all that far away. This article in the Albany Herald spells it out pretty well. Heywood at Blogidilla has a definition at his site. 

The word Wal-Mart is pushing on you this summer is Stay-cation.

Stay·ca·tion [stey-key-shuh-n] noun.

1. A vacation that is spent at one’s home enjoying all that home and one’s home environs have to offer.

Sentence: With the economy in such shambles, I’m gonna take a stay-cation this year - I think I’ll check out what Wal-Mart is selling and later come up with some more portmanteaux…

Definition via Urbandictionary.

But, do you really want to laugh? Watch John Hodgman on Jon Stewart's Daily Show talking about the holistay. For some reason, I can't embed this tonight, but you can link above. 

Won't You and Your Pets Join Animal Writes?

How would you like to have your pet’s photo and story at Sacred Ordinary? As my own dog Cookie’s life narrows in her 13^th year, she has become incredibly precious to me and I realize what a powerful teacher she has been for me over the years. I would like to honor her and all animals. Also, my spiritual director, Betsy Caprio from the Center for Sacred Psychology, recently gave me a hand-out called "Spiritual Lessons Our Animals Teach Us," from Matthew Fox’s “A Spirituality Named Compassion”. (I reprint it below.) It really made me think. 

What finally triggered this idea, however, was Kerredelune’s blog Beyond the Fields We Know. Her beloved dog Cassie, whose photo is below, is fading and she has written so poignantly about her. Her post refers to Cassie being her teacher--and I think all pet owners can relate to that. 

I haven’t worked out the logistics yet, but I think I’ll feature your pets one day a week in the main blog and I will add their photos to my photo albums. I'm going to call it "Animal Writes," with full credit to Eldonna at This is My Body, This is My Blood, for this title. Would you like to participate? Please send your story (500 words or less) and your photo(s) of your pets, living or passed over in 72 dpi JPG format. I would appreciate a cross link to Sacred Ordinary if you also post it on your blog. If your pet has taught you spiritual or life lessons, please include that. This should be fun and enlightnening and a way to honor all our pets. 

I had hoped to find a printed version of Matthew Fox's "Spiritual Lessons Animals Teach Us" on the Internet I could link to, but so far I haven’t. So, I typed it in for you below. It's long, but I hope it will be food for thought for you as it was for me. Just hit continue.

Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs More Than a Theory to Me

As I have aged and as I’ve watched the economy take a downward turn, I’ve been thinking a lot about psychologist Abraham Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs as it applies not only to me, but all humans on earth.  I first studied him way back when in a college psychology class.

At About.com’s  Psychology site, it says that Maslow first introduced his concept of a hierarchy of needs in his 1943 paper “A Theory of Human Motivation” and his subsequent book, "Motivation and Personality." This hierarchy suggests that people are motivated to fulfill basic needs before moving on to other needs.

Maslow’s hierarchy of needs is most often displayed as a pyramid, with lowest levels of the pyramid made up of the most basic needs and more complex needs are at the top of the pyramid. 

Needs at the bottom of the pyramid are basic physical requirements including the need for food, water, sleep and warmth. Once these lower-level needs have been met, people can move on to the next level of needs, which are for safety and security.  As people progress up the pyramid, needs become increasingly psychological and social. Soon, the need for love, friendship and intimacy become important. Further up the pyramid, the need for personal esteem and feelings of accomplishment become important. Like Carl Rogers, Maslow emphasized the importance of self-actualization, which is a process of growing and developing as a person to achieve individual potential. At the University of Hawaii’s Psychology Department website, I was reminded that Maslow was a humanistic psychologist. Humanists do not believe that human beings are pushed and pulled by mechanical forces, either of stimuli and reinforcements (behaviorism) or of unconscious instinctual impulses (psychoanalysis). Humanists focus upon potentials. They believe that humans strive for an upper level of capabilities. Humans seek the frontiers of creativity, the highest reaches of consciousness and wisdom. This has been labeled "fully functioning person", "healthy personality", or as Maslow calls this level, "self-actualizing person."

Maslow wrote that human basic needs are instinctoid, equivalent of instincts in animals. Humans start with a very weak disposition that is then fashioned fully as the person grows. If the environment is right, people will grow straight and beautiful, actualizing the potentials they have inherited. If the environment is not "right" (and mostly it is not) they will not grow tall and straight and beautiful.

So where am I going with this? I am just acutely aware at the moment that on the pyramid I’m currently vacillating between self-actualization and purpose and meaning, but that I do sometimes revert to esteem needs, love and belonging and security. Part of this is my age, 70 (soon to be 71) and part of it is that I have been fortunate enough in life to have worked long and hard to have a comfortable old age. Sure, I still work part-time. Part of that is for security and part of it is for love and belonging and esteem needs. And frankly, I need to keep time structured or I get into psychological difficulties. 

 But, I’m also aware that in an instant, all of us will revert to basics--and that most of the people in the world don't have the luxury of moving from the bottom of the pyramid. If there is a natural disaster that affects us, our needs shift. If we don’t have enough resources to feed, house and clothe ourselves, we return to basics. Old age and infirmity, situations and circumstances can totally alter our lives instantly.

I love to “figure out” why I behave as I do and for some reason, Maslow’s theory brings me great comfort. In my case, I do believe in a guiding principal, who I call God,  but over my lifetime we have also had some rocky interactions.

How does all this strike you? I have been told countless times that I think too much. 

Building the Case for Altered Art Paper Dolls

After I finished some “have to” projects today, I decided to have an artists date a la Julia Cameron and The Artists Way . I actually began my day today with one of Julia’s techniques: Morning Pages and I ended it making this paper doll.

It took me an inordinately long time, but I keep hearing my artist friends whispering in my ear, “Just play. Get used to the mediums. There are no rights and wrongs.” Also, I had to figure out the best way to get the end product that I was hoping for. My scanner is acting up tonight, but you get the gist. The doll is 11" tall, by the way. 

I can envision putting faces of all my friends and family on altered paper dolls. “But, why would you want to do that?” you ask. My answer is “Because I can and because I haven’t had so much fun for a long time with an art project.”

There are several excellent sites on the internet offering free templates for making all kinds of crafts. The following two sites is where I printed free templates for paper dolls.

Ruth Ann Zaroff at Mirkwood Designs

The Enchanted Gallery

I found several links to see examples, but I have lots of magazines and books in my art bookcase where there are “how to” directions for making altered paper dolls. Lynne Perella's Beyond Paper Dolls is a fantastic book, and Somerset Studios publishes the Art Doll Quarterly. 

If you haven’t ever tried making an altered paper doll, these are good links, too.

 Nervousness.Org

 B-Muse

And Artella is always a good place to visit. 

Want to try making a paper doll yourself? Check the links above and send me a copy of your doll so I can link to it here at Sacred Ordinary.

Also, if you have favorite sites to share with me, I'd love to have them. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Malaga Cove Lawn Show

Once a month, from April through September, the Palos Verdes Art Center hosts its outdoor artists lawn show in Malaga Cove Plaza. There are eight artists groups at PV Art Center and each group has a turn displaying these monthly weekend art shows. Though it's hard work, it is also an honor to display there. These art shows have been going on for more than 30 years, I'm told.

My friend, Orma Hammond, has had her work displayed the past two months and it's always a pleasure to drop by and chat in the sun by the beautiful plaza. When I was done, I volunteered at the Malaga Cove Library used book sale the rest of the afternoon.

This is Orma with her painting of the Neighborhood Church, a Palos Verdes Estates landmark. Behind her you can see the green hills and some of the plaza. If you click, you will see the photos in more detail. 

Following are two more of Orma's paintings of local Palos Verdes scenes. 

This is called Jacarandas. 

The one on the right is a painting of one of the stores in the south end of the plaza, near the police station. 

This Friday night I am attending an opening of Juried All-Media and Small Treasures exhibition's opening reception, 5 – 8 p.m. where other artist friends will be displaying.

Sometimes uppity people on the west side of Los Angeles say there is no culture in the South Bay, but I beg to differ. Not only are there several art centers and artists groups, every city has cultural arts or theater centers featuring symphonies, plays--and you name it. All the local schools, public and private, have plays and concerts periodically. In the summer, every city has a series of outdoor concerts. Personally, I think I live in a heavenly part of the world and I'm grateful I do. 

My Parents Wedding Day

It was hot and muggy on Thursday, July 25, 1918 when Emily Ann Huxtable married Allyn Francis Streur in Holland, Michigan. My mom was 21 and my dad was 20, although for some reason I had thought all these years they were 18 and 19. With my two eldest sisters gone now, a lot of information is no longer available. Though I did oral histories with my sisters, we never talked about what mom and dad reported.

I remember my dad saying that his celluloid collar was melting it was so hot. I remember my mom telling me of a romantic trip in a horse and buggy when dad proposed. This is the photo I have of their wedding.

My paternal grandparents had a nice home in Holland on 9^th Street, although there are Hope College buildings on that site today. I assume they were married either there or at the Pillar Christian Reformed Church which is on 9^th St., I’m told. My two remaining sisters and one of my maternal cousins don’t remember the details they probably were told at some time and I have not been successful in finding any write-up in the Holland Sentinel.

Below is a photo of mom's wedding dress.  

When I found a manikin for sale a few months ago when an antique consignment store closed, I bought it specifically to display mom’s dress. I do remember her telling me that either her mom or her aunt made it. It is an exquisite dress, some kind of silk I assume, off white, with lots of beautiful design touches. Do you know what they call the finishing on the bottom of the skirt? It was made in 2 pieces—a blouse and a skirt and my mom’s waist was 24”. The manikin’s waist is about four inches bigger than that. The sleeves are long and pointed and the peplum on the top is edged with handmade tatting. My mom tatted all her life. I wish I knew whether she made this lace herself. Here’s a close-up of the lace. 

There are many silk covered buttons on the dress and the blouse’s back has a long pointed scarf-like draping with a tassel on it.

The photo obviously doesn’t show the color of her bouquet although she loved tea roses her entire life and told me her mom did, too. She has on white shoes and stockings so I imagine she was pretty warm herself. She told me that when she married, she could sit on her hair. Did they have a honeymoon? Where did they live at first? No one seems to know.

Lately I have been dreaming of my parents a lot and usually I am an adult and they are the ages at which they died; dad lived to 81 and mom died at 71. Being kind of mystical at heart, I sometimes wonder if they are preparing the way for me when I cross over—which I hope is a long time from now. Maybe I’ve been reading and watching James Van Praagh too much lately.

The dress, by the way, is in remarkably good shape considering it is 90 years old. I have it displayed in my bedroom. In September, which would have been my 50^th anniversary, I’m going to iron my own dress and display it.

I’m pretty good at research, but I’m not having any luck finding a wedding announcement from the Holland Sentinel. I’m not a genealogist, but do any of you know how I might find any details of their wedding? I think I will call the Pillar Church and see if they are on their records.

So, here’s 70-year-old Fran feeling very nostalgic the past few days as I’ve lovingly prepared mom’s dress for display. For those of you whose parents are gone, I am sure you can identify with my feelings.