Lost in Folsom

Ignorance did not prove blissful this week. Groom and I just returned from a seven day trip participating in the Sacramento Arts Festival. Our best two shows this year were in Boise, Idaho’s capital city, and Salem, the governmental seat of Oregon. Our logic was that Sacramento, home to California’s beautiful capitol building, would round out the trifecta, making our last out-of-town show end with a big bang.

How about a less than impressive fizzle?

Fraught with tension just a few blocks away, Governor Schwarzenegger and legislative leaders were locked in a five-hour meeting spilling into Friday evening, October 1, 2010, attempting to end California’s record-long budget stalemate that has been continuing for more than 93 days.

Rumors of a hand-shake deal spread throughout the Sacramento Convention Center by 7:30pm. The show went until 9pm. In other words, a loooooooooong day.

Unbeknownst to us, government workers have been made to take Fridays off without pay, called “Furlough Fridays.” The trickle-down effect has been fast and furious.

In its 13th year, the Sacramento Arts Festival was unfortunately in the line of “friendly fire.” Without enough money to pay their bills, most people stayed home, choosing not to fork out the $15 per day parking lot charges and $7.50 entrance fees (and I thought parking in Eugene was an issue). As we were downtown four days in a row, we did not budget $60 to park our van so that stung a little. Blissless.

In its defense, the Sacramento Arts Festival is a beautiful show, one of the most diverse collections of artists and artworks under one roof that we’ve seen. With plenty of time to walk the show, it didn’t matter how many times we wandered about, there was always something new to see. The layout was great, the colors bright and the art complementary; but hardly a customer to be found.

The promoter, Warren Cook, is beloved. More artists told me that they do his shows simply because he’s Warren. He was a joy to work with and I can see why he’s so well liked and respected.

As happens at a slow show, there’s not much to do but visit with each other, so on a fonder note, we met some fun vendors. One couple from California boasted quite emphatically that Stanford was going to kick the University of Oregon’s, and therefore, our behinds during Saturday night’s big game. While he said it with humor and swagger, we kept checking the score. By 7 o’clock when the show closed for the evening, the game had not finished but Stanford was up 31-24, so the butt-kicking would have to wait until Sunday morning.

My cousin, who lives near Fresno, took a vacation day off from work and drove up to meet us. She booked a room next door in the same hotel, so we turned the weekend into a fun slumber party of sorts, staying up late, visiting and eating yummy food in our pajamas.

Perusing the Sacramento magazine in our hotel room, I noticed an ad for “the largest collection of antique shops in California.” So Cousin and I decided to play hooky from the show Sunday morning and go on the hunt for jewelry-making parts while Groom opened the booth.

What started out as a simple plan…

In spite of using her GPS, we still ended up lost, because the address given in the ad did not match the photo or the description. It was an empty building up for lease. I Googled the place on my handy dandy new Internet phone and we called the number listed. The message went to voicemail, a young girl wishing us a nice day.

While lost, we ended up in Historic Folsom, the city made famous by Johnny Cash and his 1956 trademark song, Folsom City Blues.

Early on Sunday morning, most shops were closed, but we did notice three different signs about karma, the Eastern philosophical concept of action and deed, cause and effect. Hmmmm….curious.

Walking back into the show, we encountered Mr. Stanford. As soon as he saw us, he covered his face with his hands. As the UO beat Stanford 52-31, he apologized for his arrogance and offered me a fabulous glass of wine to go with his humble pie. For you wine-bibbers out there, do I have a tip for you: Heringer Estates 2006 Petite Sirah. I finally understand descriptions like ambrosia or nectar of the gods. Aah, Bliss.

While the profits from the show were not what we were hoping for, we did get to visit with my cousin, see my parents and hang out with friends on the way home, so all was not lost.

Driving down I-5, we pulled into a rest area for a quick stop. Three nuns in full habit emerged from the vehicle next to us and proceed to amble toward the women’s room. Respectfully, I was not going to rush so that I could push ahead in line of three nuns, nope, wasn’t gonna do it. Turns out, there were four stalls, three of which had doors and the fourth one did not.

I giggled to myself, that here I was, the only other person in a room with nuns and my stall did not have a door on it. Whatever your belief, nun’s are a pretty significant symbol of religion and in the ongoing conversation with the Universe, it was not lost on me that I had an “open door.”

Hmmm, let’s quickly retrace. Getting lost in Folsom which is represented by a prison song, three signs of karma, a trinity of nuns and me with an open door. These things might make you nod off, but they certainly had the power to catch my attention, so while you’re looking at these photos, I’ll be a pondering.

A Peek in the Cupboard

Last week, I warned you that instead of sweeping up the contents of my week and sorting through the dustbin for blog ideas, I might just clean out the refrigerator and serve leftovers, but Old Mrs. Hubbard’s cupboard is bare. Okay, maybe not exactly bare, but not exactly organized either. By Old Mrs. Hubbard, I mean me, and I got nothin’. My well is empty (chalk it up to exhaustion).

So, I’ve got no story to tell as we leave for Sacramento early Wednesday morning for our last show of 2010 or Z0L0 as we’ve been calling it. We still have at least one more Eugene Saturday Market to do for our October point and a riverside studio sale in Roseburg later in the month and of course, the Holiday Market, but that’s of future concern.

Right now, there are clothes to be packed, pendants to be finished and a scruzillion little details that require attending, so this week’s blog shall be brief.

Combing through the photos, I selected a few that amuse me, probably why we took them in the first place. I’ll give you a quick tour and then turn you loose to view and make your own interpretations.

This past weekend we participated in the Corvallis Fall Festival, home to the Oregon State Beavers. Here is a humorous necklace we made and sold in the first couple hours of the show. I knew there’d be an arty fun Beaver fan who would appreciate the intent as well as the content, and sure enough, a creative soul tried it on and didn’t take it off.

Here’s a pile of treasure we discovered, bits and pieces we’re turning into wearable art.

One of them is an Amelia Earhart necklace titled Traveling by Starlight, which two little girls were playing with on Sunday afternoon.

Another little girl came into our booth a few weeks ago and while her mother was shopping peeked around the counter. Upon seeing my wine colored John Fluevog shoes, she scooped them up into her arms and gave them a hug. I didn’t have the camera in my hand when she did that, but grabbed it immediately and snapped her holding them. It feels like I’ve already shared this with you, if so, consider it a leftover.

Speaking of wine, there are a few people out there who will know why this particular bottle was a delight to receive as a gift.

And I’m glad to know about the healing power of wine… “use a little wine for the sake of your stomach and your frequent illnesses,” 1Tim 5:23. Cheers St. Paul!

It’s my father’s birthday this week and as a train lover, thought I’d post this one in honor of him. Happy Birthday dad.

This butterfly necklace is one of my favorites. While I’m glad we design one of a kind pieces, I sometimes wish we could replicate.

Groom took this photo of a person taking a picture of a butterfly with their cell phone.

Still enamored with our new cell phone, here’s one I took of a coffee date the other day with friends.

Speaking of which, take a gander at the older dude texting on his. To view the details and see it better, simply click on that (or any other) photo and then hit the back button to return to the blog. Do you notice how the younger folks are actually waiting for their boat ride in Grants Pass by hanging out while he’s separated himself from the herd and playing with his phone?

Always a romantic, I’m reassured to know there’s a special Prenup guide for lovers.

I opened a jar of liver of sulfur (a patina for metal) while working in the studio the other day and was tickled to see this smiley face peering back at me. Ah, I’m a sucker for sweet.

Yeah, I’m not sure what was going on with these two cone-head dogs in a parked car. Are they cute? A little scary?

The last two pictures involve parking meters in downtown Eugene. What, pray tell, is oozing from the coin slot? How did it get in there and why is it coming back out? Did it drink too much, ingest something that made it sick, or was it simply embarrassed by having to wear a pole cozy?

Alright, I told you I was keeping this brief, so I’ll bid you adios and happy trails.

What a Doll!

If I were to sweep up the remnants of my week into a pile, the debris would comprise a colorful mélange, full of odd toddies and beastly bits. Consider this week’s entry as my dustpan and let’s have a sort, shall we?

As my week unfolded, it did not lay dormant as the remains do now like a deflated rainbow but took up full residency and demanded attention. Nothing and everything was pressing. Probably the first thing on my mind is that today, September 22, is the first day of autumn (happy equinox!). It is also the third year since my dear friend Christine La Bean died and I miss her.

In other news, one friend moved to Albuquerque on Saturday for a new job (good luck!) and we were informed that two others have cancer; one with stomach and the other lymph although we were told “nymph.” Admittedly, it is shocking news, but the punch to the gut was momentarily delayed by our minds trying to process that our friend had nymph cancer. Oh the blessing and curse of possessing a dark sense of humor.

While we have expressed our love and support to them privately, we’ll not turn down any prayers, blessings or positive thoughts on their behalf you might have to spare. Thank you.

Okay, enough of the sadness. There are happy occasions, too. After a year and a half of toying with the idea, Groom and I finally made the leap and purchased an Internet phone. I’m not usually a gadgety-girl, but whoa, it’s a mini computer and I think I’m in love.

Groom is usually the technofile as I’m more interested in what other people enjoy reading and watching and eating as consumption appetites are windows to compatibility. You may not care a single whit what we’re temporarily infatuated by, but that won’t stop me from telling you.

Currently, I’m reading Jane Austen’s Sense and Sensibility while Groom concludes an Alan Gordon medieval mystery. Pausing in the general vicinity of the Middle Ages, we were both googly-eyed over Pillars of the Earth, the book and the recent Starz Original mini-series.

And while the language in Deadwood has the power to curl the hair on a bald head, the story line set in Dakota Territory along with brilliant acting bring the 1870’s, Bill Hickok, Calamity Jane and many other notable characters back to life.

God’s Minion turned us on to Infinite Possibilities by Mike Dooley this week. Following her suggestion, we found it on audible.com and are listening to the downloaded book while making jewelry. In order to design any, we made a trip to Salem last Thursday where a friend introduced us to a gentleman who bids on storage units for a living, so we rummaged around for potential upcycling and repurposing materials.

We played hooky from the Eugene Saturday Market, preferring to stay indoors and work instead of braving the rain. As long-timers, we’ve put in many a shivering day and it feels incredibly luxurious to have a choice in the matter.

Sunday was the semi-annual stamp show at the Masonic Lodge (March and September), and after rooting around for cool postage stamps we jetted over to the Fairgrounds for opening day of the Piccadilly Flea Market. Yep, you guessed it, coffee in one hand, camera in the other, our eyes in training for photo ops and cool jewelry parts.

From there, we hooked up with out-of-town friends and enjoyed Japanese, Italian and Salvadorian cuisine over the course of their visit.

I warned you the dustbin is full of this and that.

Now I’m turning to the topic of quotes. I adore and collect quotes because The difference between the right word and the almost right word is the difference between lightning and a lightning bug. – Mark Twain

A friend sent me a card a few days ago that says, Charm is the ability to make someone else think that both of you are pretty wonderful. – Kathleen Winsor

While we take photographs of whatever happens to grab our attention in the moment, over time we’ve shot enough images to present certain themes. Apparently our cameras gravitate toward dolls on occasion.

When applicable, we’ve tried to match a quote with a photo, but don’t strain yourself trying to figure it out, keeping in mind it’s a dustpan week.

Here are a couple more I really like.

Be yourself; everyone else is already taken. – Oscar Wilde

To love oneself is the beginning of a life-long romance. – Oscar Wilde

Thanks for sorting through my dustpan with me. Perhaps next week, I’ll clean out the refrigerator…