Divan Intervention

A young woman, barely past the age of teen, is contemplating a critical predicament alone, while her baby boy sleeps nearby uninterrupted in his crib.

Her Catholic–esque upbringing, with the added flavor of her grandmother's roots in Santeria, is now standing before her in judgment. The angry and punishing God that she was raised to believe in, disintegrating in this moment of stillness and calm. The realization of her present life course comes into full view of it's insanity laced with voices of the matriarchs saying things like, "You made your bed, now you lay in it." Compounded with more encouragement from the familial archives "You were born alone, and you die alone." Taken literally forward into her life, the over–achieving "A" student seeks advice and help from no one, and why would she.

It was 1978 and all marriages in her family, on both sides, were intact (regardless of how unloving they were) except for her favorite aunt on her mother's side. She witnessed her aunt being the object of gossip and dark judgement, as spiteful and ill–tempered as the God that was painted for her. The idea of leaving her marriage was not an option, for she couldn't swallow the thought of becoming another object of family ridicule.

Sitting on the once floral–patterned, Early American design (design being a very loose term here) divan, a 70s hand me down from the family home she left is now covered in a plaid Herculon™ fabric. It sits against a wood–paneled wall and is providing somewhat of a safe haven amongst the chaos on pause. Her young abusive alcoholic husband is away at work allowing for what would become a turning point for her future history, both life altering and life saving.

With crossed legs and mind bent, thoughts and questions arising and spilling 'out of her mind' grasping to reconcile all that she had been taught to believe about the rules, regulations, and religious consequences around marriage and divorce. Feelings of isolation and being boxed–in between family values and the reality of living daily in fear for her life and safety of her child, a whisper of sanity appears. It was more like the sound of a voice in your head, the kind that is often referred to as messages from above. 

She heard from the lips of Jesus, God, or whatever welcomed stream of divinity it was, that how and what she was living was not love and that no one was meant to be living a life like that. What she was taught and delivered as truth by her family was wrong. That is not what they, the divine ancestors, meant in their dissertation on love and matrimony–for her or anyone else. With that, permission was given to her to leave the bed she had made. And so she did. 

Imagine for just a minute the absolute collapse of everything you thought to be true and real for 20 years. Taught to you by your tribal people, only to be dissolved in an instant, laying in a mound of dust on the living room floor. This was most certainly my moment of Divan Intervention. 

Special Note: Thank God, Buddha, Jesus, Krishna, Archangels, and anyone else including myself who were involved on that grateful day of clarity and ultimately freedom. 

Casa Milagro - Miracle House...The Symbolism of Landscaping: Phase II

After removing the lawn, a loose hardscape plan in mind and literally no materials or budget...I spent the next two years battling the seasonal growth of weeds following winter storms. On a positive note, that time allowed me to really sink into the creative concept behind the Jacaranda tree shadow as basis for the hardscape plan and to develop more fully. This is probably a very typical approach to a Do-It-Yourself project. It would be good to mention at this point that I did have some amazing garden angels for whom I would not have accomplished what I did. My winged friends include, Susan Lanterman, Sonny Vyborny, Karen Martino, Donna Guhl, Susan Bainbridge, Ann Mitchell and Mark Vyborny.

Insert lawn removal here for this is a funny story in and of itself. I'm frugal. Having said that I set out to remove some 500sf of lawn...by hand! My friend Susan offered her help and never said a word, just went along with my idea of the pick and shovel approach. That lasted about 30 minutes at which point she breathed the words of relief, "Thank God", after which we set off to rent sod removal equipment. As we drove away in her truck fully equipped with trailer hitch, pink gloves and equipment in tow, we could see in the side view mirrors all the rental yard men with perplexed looks and a tilt in their heads. A minor mention of the nice discount we received at the check-out counter...it's good to be a girl!