This was my last week at “temporary housing #1” and my friends and I spent our time laughing, commiserating about the last days of school, dining out and drinking watermelon margaritas. We also watched a movie called, Bernie, which is based on a fact-is-stranger-than-fiction true story of love and murder. We both chimed in when Jack Black sang old Baptist hymns, familiar to both of us from our childhood years spent in east Texas and southern Missouri. All through the film I was reminded of my Missouri heritage and what it was like to grow up in the country.
A few days after watching the movie, my friend came to me and said she had a gift to offer. I’d barely lifted my head from my computer when she flipped open her worn copy of an old Baptist Hymnal and started singing Love Lifted Me:
Laughing, I immediately joined in. Then we took turns looking in the Index and singing the first verses of hymns such as, Just As I Am and The Old Rugged Cross. It’s been a wonderful gift to live with these dear friends and I will always be grateful for the time we’ve spent together.
Over the weekend, I touched down, for two nights, at another friend’s home. This lovely home will be my “home base” until I move to Turkey. However, until school officially ends in three weeks, I will primarily live with yet another friend and her family. This friend, also an artist, has a home alive with color and textures! It is only because of the generous gifts of my friends that I am able to take the steps necessary to achieve my dreams.
My former next-door neighbors, who I miss very much, emailed me this fabulous short film from the Viking Cruise website. Every time I watch it I get goose bumps. Please watch it! This is the Istanbul I remember from my summer visit in 2011! This is where I’m going to live in a few short months!!
This week I want to give you the gift of encouragement. Don’t be afraid to dream a dream and begin walking toward that dream. It can be anything! You can be anything and do anything. Everything is possible! Make one choice today that will get you headed in the right direction. Give yourself this gift.
Of course I got a cold the day before I moved out three weeks ago. Sniffle and cough all day Friday and Saturday, but alas, I did it with the help from many. What great friends I have! I could never have done any of this without their love and support. For now, I’m comfortable in a beautiful, art-filled home that I share with one of my colleagues and her husband and we’re having FUN!!! These past few weeks have been a precious time for our friendship to deepen. We have confessed denial about the fact that I’ll be leaving soon. I’ve been grocery shopping at their neighborhood Sprouts and it feels like I’m in a whole new city! By the time I understand this neighborhood’s restaurants and shops it will be time to move on . . .
Simultaneously with my adventures are the adventures of my daughter who graduated from college last week! Soon, she will also be moving to a new city. Her life of school projects and part-time work is beginning to transition into interviews and apartment searches; a new beginning for both of us. We have our fingers crossed that she will find a small apartment that I can share with her for about 6 weeks, before I leave the country for Istanbul.
My current school year is winding down. Our Senior class will graduate next week. These sweet kids were in first grade when I started teaching at this school. I’ve watched them grow up into beautiful, young adults. Interviews are taking place in the art department as our Head is searching for my replacement. I only have a few weeks left of a wonderful teaching career in this place. As I reminisce, I am thankful.
I’ll be moving to vagabond location #2 next week after one more garage sale at another friend’s home. I was ready to set my few, remaining household items out for bulk trash, but she swept everything up and took it to her home, confident it would sell in her neighborhood’s community garage sale next weekend. It sure won’t hurt to have a few more dollars in my pocket.
I’m working daily to close down, or temporarily suspend, my American life. This means banking accounts, final doctor and dentist appointments, utility refunds, updating my Will, meetings with my accountant, address changes, the selling of my car, communications with insurance groups, investment groups and financial planners. There’s a lot to do! Even so, I’m still excited! What an adventure this will be.
Have you ever ridden a Ferris Wheel and just as you approach the top, butterflies in your stomach, it begins to slow down, and then completely stops? The gentle swaying at the top, although frightening, also seems peaceful as you gaze across the land below. When in high school, I remember riding the Ferris Wheel at a country carnival with my boyfriend and crossing my fingers that it would stop at the top. I thought this would be the most romantic setting, sitting at the top of the world and viewing all the twinkling lights below. If captured, this moment-in-time would give pause to all else that was happening in the world and I could focus on my breath and on my thoughts.
Sometimes pauses are needed to re-energize so that we can push ahead. I have found that a pause helps me re-think questions and hear answers. I never could have imagined, when I started this blog, that it would become my weekly accountability partner. Through your comments and encouragement, my dear readers and supporters, I have made it to the finish line and won the prize. I am so thrilled to have been offered a teaching job, at an IB international school in Istanbul, Turkey. I have worked hard and it’s paid off, but I want to pause and give time to the new chapter that’s about to begin.
I’ve already started researching Istanbul: the history, the geography, the holidays, the art and I can’t wait to start digesting all that I see, smell, taste and hear once I get there late this summer. I look forward to the ways that this city and its people will inspire me to write and to make art and I am eager to share it with you through my blog. But for right now, I am going to take some time off and suspend my weekly blogging.
I will become homeless in a week and a half and have decided to spend the next few months vagabonding at generous friends’ homes. I’m still moved by the number of people who have extended invitations for me to come live with them for a weekend or weeks on end. It will be hard to leave my Dallas friends behind. Some I’ve known for almost 30 years! They’ve watched me grow up. They’ve seen my heart break. They’ve witnessed my joys and my fears. They’ve prayed for me and with me. And now, they are supporting me in my dream of living overseas. I am so grateful. Thanks and bless all of you for helping me along the path I’ve chosen. Your kindness, love and generousity is what gives me strength and courage. As I always say, your crown in heaven will be draped in so many rubies, emeralds and diamonds that each of you will barely be able to lift it to your head. I, on the other hand, will be directed to the do-it-yourself craft table where I can make my own little crown out of cardboard, Elmer’s glue and aluminum foil. I love you all and will be back writing regularly in a few short months.
My former husband and I moved to Texas 28 years ago, driving a U-Haul truck with plastic, pink flamingos duct-taped to the side mirrors. Many out-of-staters say, “ I wasn’t born here, but I got here as fast as I could.” Although I love Texas, there’s plenty that has driven me crazy as well. To be situated smack-dab in the Bible Belt, there’s a lot that Texans don’t do a very good job at, but there’s one thing that Texas does better than anybody else and that is Mexican food.
It’s been a wonderful week. My precious daughter and her boyfriend came to Dallas this week to spend their spring break. We’ve enjoyed showing them around and enjoying many of the sites that makes Dallas famous. Since she left four years ago to attend college, Dallas has changed a lot! There’s all kinds of new restaurants, new arts venues and new places to explore. Most of my house is packed up, and the friend who bought my living room furniture agreed to leave it here until after my guests leave so we’d have something to sit on. Two weeks ago I packed up my kitchen. I sent my silverware, pots and pans and many kitchen items to my daughter in California. So when they visited this week, we had no choice but to eat out. With very few exceptions, we ate Tex-Mex daily.
My daughter loves queso and is very picky about it. She and I are both vegetarians. Her boyfriend is a CrossFit coach and competitor and is fully carnivorous. He hasn’t quit talking about the Brisket Tacos he had on their first night here in Big D. Spicy beans and hot sauce have appeared even at the breakfast table. How fortunate that his favorite beer is Shiner, brewed in Shiner, Texas, down by San Antonio. Although I prefer margaritas, one night out I said forget it to the lime juice and salt and just ordered straight shots of Jose Cuervo. It’s been a good week and I’m sad to have them go. As the date is quickly approaching of my exiting the USA, I’m beginning to savor the many good things that I’ve come to take for granted.
Today on Easter Sunday, why not scoot the deviled eggs and ham off to the side and instead go out for enchaladas, burritos or tamales? Enjoy this wonderful short film called, “Fresh Guacamole” by PES. It was nominated for the Best Animated Short Film of 2013 and shows, in a most creative way, how to make your own guacamole.
Although the packing continues, it’s slower and demands attention to detail. I’ve uncovered papers of all sorts that document my existence on planet Earth since 1982, the year of my college graduation. In the quiet stillness of late afternoons that turn to evening dusk, the pathways of memories seem endless. From that day in May, almost thirty-one years ago, I’ve found evidence of noted accomplishments and jottings from others who were instrumental to my having lived a life of joy and curiosity. In my discoveries of myself, a pattern emerges: I visualize a goal, I research and create challenges for myself and then I reach my goal. Then the cycle starts all over again.
One of my current curiosities is trying to get a basic understanding of the enormity of the history of Constantinople, or Istanbul, my soon-to-be home. This city, established by Greek colonists around 657 BC, became the capital city of the Byzantine, Roman and Ottoman Empires. Even if I start in the “modern” times of AD 330, when Constantine the Great made it the new capital of the Roman Empire, it is almost too much for my brain to absorb, but you gotta start somewhere, right?
The religious history of Istanbul is wide and long and high and deep. It will be fascinating to live there and share the streets with these western-influenced people inside the diptych of where Islam and Christian beliefs meet. In no way do I claim to be a historian or expert in church history but from my reading it seems that Roman Emperor, Constantine, along with colleague and co-Emperor, Licinius, issued the Edict of Milan in AD 313, which proclaimed tolerance of all religions throughout the Empire. Constantine likely witnessed forms of Christian persecution in Rome, but eventually he became the first Roman emperor to convert to Christianity. After restoring the unity of the Empire, through both governmental reforms and consolidation of the Christian church, he chose Constantinople to be the new capital.
In AD 325, Constantine summoned the Council of Nicaea, a council of Christian bishops brought together to attain consensus in the church on several hot topics. One of the main accomplishments was settling the Christological issue of the nature of The Son (Jesus) and his relationship to God the Father, which resulted in the Nicene Creed. The intent of this was to unify the beliefs for all of Christendom. Another result of this council was an agreement on when to celebrate Easter.
In her delightful blog about all-things-Paris, Theodora Brack, wrote a recent article, Paris Tête-à-Tête: Arts Update Teaser, that showcases new exhibitions in La Cille-Lumiére, the City of Light. Currently at the Centre Pompidou is an exhibition I wish I could attend which highlights one of my fav’s, Salvador Dali. After reading her article and doing this ecumenical council research, I found that Dali was inspired to produce an enormous painting called The Ecumenical Council, in 1960, after the 1958 election of Pope John XXIII. According to Wikipedia, this painting expresses Dali’s renewed hope in religious leadership following the devastation of World War II, as the Pope had extended communication to Geoffrey Fisher, the Archbishop of Canterbury. Communication between the Roman Catholic Pope and the principal leader of the Church of England had not happened in more than four centuries.
This history of the sieges and battles, emperors and sultans seem to go on and on and on. Istanbul’s history is a long one and I’ve just started. Eventually, in 1453, the city and the Empire fall to the Ottomans. Although that’s nobody’s business but the Turks, I hope to start uncovering that piece of history, as well, as I work my way to Istanbul. A few weeks ago, when I announced my employment with an international school in Istanbul, a sweet friend of mine posted this video as a gift of congratulations to me. We met on top of a mountain in Austria, and that’s the real gift. Enjoy.
*Note on above painting:
Description: The Ecumenical Council by Salvador Dali, 1960
Source: dalinet.com
Article: The Ecumenical Council (painting)
Portion used: It represents the complete work.
Low resolution: It is a low resolution image.
Purpose of use: It illustrates an educational article about the painting that this image represents.
Replaceable: It is not replaceable with an uncopyrighted or freely copyrighted image of comparable educational value.
I’m so grateful that the hours of daily research to find an overseas teaching position has come to a halt. The urgency of filling out paperwork for my new school has been taken care of, at least for the time being. Inspections and appraisals have happened and there is no reason to think that the sale of my home won’t go through. I’ve spent the last few days going through the remaining objects of my life and trying to determine what to do with them. There are four categories: 1) Take to Istanbul, 2) Give to my daughter, 3) Sell/Give away, 4) Save for my grandchildren.
Since beginning my blog a year ago, I’ve sold and given away many, many things . . . a lifetime of things. I’ve challenged myself to get as close to ground zero as possible with my material possessions. What’s left doesn’t take up much physical space but the memories these things hold are as big as the Grand Canyon. There’s only four weeks left until I move out of my house. My daughter and her boyfriend are coming to Dallas for a week that will extend over two weekends. That means I really only have two weeks to finish up dealing with these last few things. In realizing this, I became paralyzed.
Because she told me she wanted to help when I got to this point, I called a sweet friend over to help me make these final decisions. Post-it-Notes and colored tape helped us get through my entire kitchen. We titled two narrow, kitchen drawers, “IST” and these items will go with me to Turkey. All that I will use in my kitchen during the next four weeks is now housed in two, small kitchen cabinets.
In handling these last objects, the oddest things would stop me in my tracks. A 30 year old recipe on a gravy-stained, grease soaked scrap of paper caused a flood of memories to come rushing at me. When I picked up the card called, “Mom’s Stuffing” I remember the Thanksgiving Day, at least 25 years ago, that I followed my Mom around her kitchen measuring out all the ingredients. She never used measurements. She’d made dressing for years and knew how to do it by heart. She couldn’t tell me how to make it, so, as she grabbed the ingredients, I made her stop and measure, and I wrote them down. I put this card in the “Give to my daughter” box but I might end up moving it to the “Save for my grandchildren” box. Another stained sheet of notebook paper held the beautiful handwriting of my Aunt Sue. Her recipes for Crème Mints and Frozen Banana Punch were used to make treats for every bridal shower or baby shower on that side of the family. How is it that we humans become so emotionally attached to scraps of paper? A jar of home-canned hot peppers has set on my kitchen counter for seven years. The Kerr sealed jar not only holds the juices, seeds and peppers of the last garden my Mom and Dad ever had, it holds a lifetime of memories of my family’s annual vegetable gardens and breaking beans in the driveway of my childhood home in Missouri. These family memories are happy and simple; long before my Dad fell ill with Alzheimers.
It’s hard!!! This is why people don’t deal with their crap! It is emotionally draining and difficult. It’s much easier to keep these scraps of paper hidden amongst new cookbooks and stacks of dishes. Memories. They exist in deep caverns and down long hallways of our minds. Memories are important, but as my friend suggested, wouldn’t it be just as powerful to take a digital photo of these things and make a list of these special objects and memories and just read the list from time to time? I have to believe so as I continue to fill boxes.
Thank goodness this week was Spring Break. After accepting a contract to teach in Istanbul, Turkey last week, and then selling my home that same evening, I’ve been involved in many activities. Understandably, the Ministry of Turkey requires a police clearance, so I began the week at the downtown Dallas jail to get fingerprinted. Once behind the locked doors, the police officers began the procedure and I reacted enthusiastically, asking many questions and complimenting their efficiency and expertise. The officers were surprised by my excitement. They explained that most people they fingerprint react quite differently to their procedures!
By mid-week I was sending scanned documents to Turkey, and mailing documents via DHL. Then my house was inspected as part of the selling process, and I had to squeeze in a physical examination to receive a medical clearance from my doctor. Thursday was the first day of the NAEA (National Art Educators Association) Conference and, as I reported in my article It’s All Good, I was selected to present at a session on Thursday morning. My presentation Blogging in the Art Classroom was received well and the rest of the weekend I was free to enjoy other presentations, listen to lectures and play with new art products in the huge Exhibit Hall.
I loved being with my two dear friends and colleagues and it was fun running into other art friends throughout the conference center. For the most part, we all had different interests and went our separate ways to the daily discussion groups and sessions, but many of us attended the last session Friday night to watch the film, Beauty is Embarrassing, which features the life and work of Wayne White. Known to many as the Emmy winning, co-creator of Pee-Wee’s Playhouse fame, he was also the illustrator/designer for award winning music videos for both Peter Gabriel and the Smashing Pumpkins. After viewing this autobiographical film, Mr. White made a surprise appearance and talked openly and intimately to the audience. He was immediately likeable and shared about his enormously “lucky” life, as he called it. He is represented by the Marty Walker Gallery in Dallas and on this website, you can watch several interviews, which I encourage you to do as his dry-wit and sarcasm, evidenced through his Word Paintings, will leave you laughing and pondering deeper interpretations to life.
Wayne grew up as a country boy in Chattanooga, Tennessee and many of his high school and college antics reminded me of growing up in Ozark, Missouri. He recounted one story in which his high school art teacher had collected a sampling of his Salvadore Dali’ish drawings and given them to his principal. Wayne was excited about this, thinking that he might receive some sort of honor. Instead, he was invited into the principal’s office and was told, “Those don’t look like the drawings of a red-blooded American boy. I’ve noticed you’re not involved in the football or basketball teams…I’m gonna keep an eye on you, boy.” Although he loves his family and the beautiful countryside of Tennessee, he was a rebel and couldn’t wait to get out and explore the world. To Wayne, humor is a sacred thing; a great communicator. He feels it is a way to tell the truth in a way everyone understands. He encourages everyone by saying, “Do what you love. It’s gonna lead where you want to go. Never give up. Invent yourself.” I couldn’t agree more.
I follow Christopher Jobson’s Colossal blog on Twitter. Colossal showcases beautiful and ingenuous handmade artworks that always cause my imagination to go into overdrive. His suggestions for visual candy never lead me astray, although when I go to his links, I can often disappear into the web for more time than I care to admit. One of his tweets this week led me to the winner of the “Excellence in Cinematography Award: U.S. Documentary, 2012,” Chasing Ice. As I watched the film trailer, both the verbal and written words reminded me of my own situation of the past week: “The story of a visionary,” “The landscape just changed before our eyes,” “All that obsession means nothing if it doesn’t work,” “This is the memory of a landscape, because that landscape is gone,” and “I do not want to go any lower than this.”
As I suspected might happen after the letting go of last week, this week my calving started and the earth started shaking under my feet.
• Within hours of my blog post last week, three additional friends extended an invitation to move in with them if my house sold. (2 other colleagues had already invited me.) There are amazing people inhabiting the earth.
• My daughter got invited to her first career interview and we talked about how we are both in the same boat of applying and interviewing for jobs.
• Within the first 48 hours of my house being listed on MLS, I had 6 showings. As of this morning, I’ve had 15, which is a lot for a downtrodden economic market. Yesterday I wasn’t able to be at my house all day because of so many showings!
Last Monday morning, I sent an email to my colleagues explaining my resignation and spent that day talking to each class about my decision to resign and why. I told my students that I was interested in other cultures and was curious about how other people lived their lives. I wanted to teach art to other children and discover how they are different and how they are the similar with kids here in the USA. I then showed them this video. After watching it, they applauded and cheered.
On Tuesday, I was surprised by how much weight I’d been carrying around trying to be secretive about the possibility of my leaving. Although my administrators had known about this for some time, I had been holding this dream of mine hostage in my heart for fear if the word got out too soon my students would be hurt and would not put their trust in me. I wanted to wait to tell them I was leaving until the time came that they understood that I loved them and would never forget them.
On Thursday, two amazing things happened.
For some time I haven’t been sleeping well because of having to set my alarm to get up early to Skype interview or because of wanting to check email that I may have received from people around the world who are up working while I’m asleep. At 4:00 a.m. I woke, checked my email and found I had one from a Principal in Istanbul with whom I’d interviewed with last week. I could tell that it sounded promising. My heart was so bruised, however, that I didn’t consider it carefully and fell back to sleep. When I woke to get ready for work, I checked my email again and had a note from the Head of that school offering me a position! After my search of many months, I’m thrilled to report that it appears I’ll be going to Istanbul to teach PYP art at an International Baccalaureate school! Although contracts aren’t yet signed, they will be in the mail this week. Istanbul was on the very top of my list of places to go! I traveled there in 2011 and hopelessly fell in love with Turkey. I couldn’t be more pleased. But the day wasn’t over.
I met some friends after work that I hadn’t seen in many months. We shared stories and they were thrilled at my exciting news! I got back at my home at 9:00 p.m. and before I even took my jacket off, I had a text message from my realtor telling me I had an offer on my house!!! Within an hour, I had sold my house. I told him that I was tempted to stay up all night to see what else might happen! What an exciting day!
Since then, my life has been full of paperwork. But I’m not complaining! My dream is coming true! From my heart I want to thank you, my readers, for pulling for me, praying for me, sending positive vibes my way. In closing, I want to challenge you to let go and reach for your dreams. Anything is possible.
This week I checked the box, “I will not be returning to school next year,” and handed it in. I cannot remember a time that I have felt this frightened, this excited and this numb at the same time. Last weekend I hibernated as the recruiting fairs of the past two weekends had taken their toil. That Saturday night I slept for 12 hours straight. I fell asleep in my clothes and woke up hoarse, thankful for no fever or sore throat. Since waking, I’ve been in an altered state; detached in a new way. I had a Skype interview last Sunday night, and within minutes I knew it wasn’t a right fit and cut the cord. Free falling again. Monday morning I handed in my decision with the box checked.
By mid-week I’d contacted my real estate neighbor and said I was ready to proceed with the selling of my house. We met to discuss the contract, set a selling price and take photos. I spent the next few days detailing my home, cleaning out a few remaining closets and having my carpets cleaned. Yesterday my house went on the market.
I’ve simply invested too much mentally, emotionally and economically to turn back now. I’m sure the difference between being wise and being foolish is very slim, similar to the way that pain and humor reside close together. A friend once said, “I’m a paycheck away from living beneath Highway 30.” I know how he feels. I’ve sold almost everything I own, I’m about to be homeless and I’ve just let go of my job, with no security that there will be one in the future.
But in those brief moments when fear seems distant, the possibilities seem great! If I don’t get offered a teaching contract that I want, I could volunteer on a woof farm! I could volunteer for Mercy Ships! I could apply for artist residencies! I could travel around the world seeing all the great people I’ve met. If I were to do that, my flight pattern might look like this: Dallas to London; to Scotland; to Germany; to Switzerland; to Morocco; to Turkey; to Taiwan; to Seoul; then to LAX; then to Craigslist to buy an RV, turn south to San Diego, park it on a beach and go swimming in the Pacific. That sounds pretty good. I’m free. I can do anything! How thankful and fortunate I am. As my brother says, “Sell the house and damn the torpedos!”
Last September I wrote an article called, “Transitions, Or Leaping From The Lion’s Head.” In it, I included a video, “ The Parable of the Trapeze,” with the voice of Daanan Parry. I’ve watched that video again this week and invite you to also. When referring to letting go of the net, Parry says, “We do it anyway because somehow, to hold on to the old net is no longer on the list of alternatives. The past is gone, the future is not quite here. It’s called transition.” I recognize that I had to let go completely before my net will appear. I’ve stepped off the cliff; let’s see what happens!
Gifts of friends.
