I am full.

My Last post explained a bit of my MIA status and is part I of this two part posting.

…Two weeks full of breath and new life…down to a new nephew’s Pisces birth.

After a month on the rock and nose to the grindstone in my writing it was time to feed the writers soul and reach out, search for and find the good foods for it all, to take a break, refresh and step back before coming back to the works of my own. And so much seeking of different arts, musics, scenes, architecture, gardens, people and sights, as well as foods not found at home were sought. And now I rest, full, in mind, body and soul.

In between the big days have been many little days…not all of which I can even tell. Not all going according to plan but all decided of the quick change upon the fact that we held no appointment, schedule or Have-To and all about full enjoyment. Book store’s, movies, antique stores (the best find yet ever being Gen’s Antiques in The Heights , also about the friendliest person met) good foods and sights, and many of it goes a little fuzzy, mixed with the beautiful weather through out.

After the last told, however, there is one grand I will speak of. After many days filling on arts of the successful, the famous, the infamous, the insane, the time-changing, the trend setting, the barrier crossing, the firsts of their kind, the done it, name in a museum, the one’s college students studied as we also did, the name’s you know, it was now a time for a day of seeking arts of the new, struggling, attempting, learning, working at it and alive, the of-my-time…starting an art festival in The Heights of Houston and a delight to run into a once lived on the island author and artist, Ms. Elena , who has a book signing here in August at Galveston Book Store. A tasting of olive oils for the tongue and arts for the eye the day was filled with a spirit in the area for sure. We lucked upon a Food Truck of the day, some amazing-ness that my tongue had ever tasted quite of the like…And even what I’d had this chef did it better…seriously…delight…amazing…food deserving of many noises made of pleasure. Then, changing gears, happening upon a donut place somehow, J, after ordering the entire food truck, managed a blueberry choice while we decided to change our minds from the planned Fine Arts Museum…the day was simply too beautiful to be indoors. We chose getting lost among the neighbourhoods and finding some of my favorite architectural designs that I could spot in the areas. We covered vast portions. We drove and walked, admired and stopped to talk with many…one home we had the pleasure of a tour. The architecture a far change, a cry of perfect blend of inner city living among the tree’s. The blend of story new and old. some new done right, some…we passed quickly by. Some, works of arts, simply. A stop for espresso at a friends shop, Southside Espresso, and onward home for an Artwalk J was finally home for….one of four dates many years ago (after which I chose not to continue dating him, lol) Years later, here we are, and many Artwalks together ….and missed due to work, later. We made it with no traffic! A terrific surprise after too much the day before, to an evening of arts here where we choose to lay our heads. Though a love of visiting Houston, most surely not of living in the chaos that is felt even in the most calm of spots we found these past two weeks. I love my island. However, for a short time, I could live in Houston. Thankfully this Artwalk was one spent together, the first since early last summer, and as well thankfully most art we had the pleasure of seeing was less stale than it had recently been over the past years, though a few spots we skipped that shared the same as three years prior. Sigh. But thankfully many spots held new, even collaboration of bind with Houston. Closing the gap of the bridge that I much felt this recent weeks. My gaze found a beautiful charm necklace in one of my favorite galleries (DesignWorks) made by one of my most admired artists (Maggie Fuller, who is also known for her sculpture work) and then I saw a hand reach and lift the necklace…the hand belonging to J, out loud he gasped “Getting it!” before he then saw me already gazing upon it. Already the charms on it held my story. It was perfect. He said to the curator wrapping up the sale “She didn’t let me buy her a necklace I’d wanted to three years ago so now she has to deal with this, finally I get to get her a gift at an Artwalk. She had said ‘no, I will buy it myself’ then, and she did” The curator raised an eyebrow and said “That, is very Peggy-like.” We then continued among the fun excitement buzzing in the air of the people, locals and visitors of locals more than all else. From one to another we admired, opinionated, and spoke to many. I then found another piece of photography of a woman in burlesque laid upon metallic print that immediately popped out and spoke to me, I got her too. A local artist who is well admired by many of her tattoo art was holding her other art for the first time in an Artwalk of Galveston, and seeing many other great pieces, I have a new artist to admire. Many vines of talent. Her Burlesque lady will accompany through the next month of my writing, inspiring much from her story, her eye’s, the photos colors that catch me deeply. We then enjoyed the Treemont Rooftop for a view of island by night and so on and so on…walking through the imagination of many, so it seemed. Such is art. Some who followed the trends and some who set them. Some from years ago of history and some of today in the making. My two weeks.

The next day, we had visions of farmers markets, fish markets, bakeries and a cooked lunch together, and attempt of the Fine Arts Museum, finally. However, as Sundays can go…the day called for rest, reading and sunshine…food and coffee in bed and not a care, regret or worry in the world. This too, is rest for the writers soul. There is so much more that fills the past two weeks…for us. But now, I am full.

Two eggs, No Plate.

Yes, I’ve been MIA but know that it is only due to a LOT of writing…other than two weeks just ending of vacation/break. Though we stayed home, we didn’t stay on the island and much enjoyed Houston…because we can, and before some travels take us away what we’ve yet to fully explore right here. Here is a little of what we did.

J was home after his month away working. I am ready for a break from writing, lonely living and even a little from the island. I’ve been writing like mad and a bit inside my head…feeding words upon the pages, but now, it is time to feed the writer, refuel for further writing, to do it justice.

We weren’t going far this trip and the need for art art art, the creative of others dreams, is what I seem to crave, and so, I fed this craving deeply.

….A trip up 45, on a particular mission. To Breath In The Different Than Usual. First stop,  Project Row House. Much enjoyed, pretty cool and looking forward to revisiting. Growth in arts, education and community. Particularly into Linda Simien Kelly . Then among the oaks, gray cottage lined streets, a sudden quiet place in the midst of chaotic Houston. I sit in the park, on the grass, under the sun and relaxed. Breath. The quiet after the insanity. As if growing from the grass, a metal object reaches to the sky, as if reminding you that this pleasant greenery is far from country and still chaotic city. Explore the Menil Collection …and bliss…I danced, I sighed, I smiled, I pondered a particular piece until my vision blurred. Right here, close to home, within touching distance, some of my favorite pieces ever…and upon them I breathed. Salvador Dali is in painting, what I wish to be in writing. The crosser of all line’s, the barrier crasher, the who gives a flying fuck do what I see, kind of artist…not the cutsy politically correct please the crowds, looking for false ass-kissing approval, the non-conformed. Let the dreams fly, the imagination and all that other crazy that lies within your mind. In my over realist view on life I always seek this surrealism. It is often very hard to let go quite so much. To not control. I stepped into the history of Jesus, Egypt and Africa, the Congo even and more, until I once again sought sunlight and back to the living day, walking away from the spirits of the dead. We sat in the middle of a room, a Room  in which the slightest whispered echoed…I wanted to sing…J laughed. When we were the only ones, I did not sing but I spoke one of my own pieces, hearing the bravado the room carry my voice, a lone woman, (she watched the room, you know, those one’s through out any museum or gallery, I like to call them the Angel Watchers and have let my imagination go a little crazy over their character, their role. Angels in my imagination are usually far from good) clapped. I sat in the middle, underneath the peek of light, surrounded by dull walls, echoing the thoughts and prayers of many, the unsureness of most, and let them whisper to me. I could have sat for hours, my imagination filling an otherwise boring space. I love human study, I can’t turn it off. This day was me…and J….ex-Navy PTSD in a chapel of calm souled meditation works very differently than it does on me. VERY Differently.

The great hunt of the day was for Polish Food , perogies being my main goal. Perhaps a moment of nostolgia of old family times. A great grandmother speaking her native tongue, if alive today, I would have had so many questions. Question’s I know she never would have answered. I wanted a touch…a taste, of home, of childhood, of less know-the-real-world time. The category of “Things not found on the island.” We found, to my delight, that in all basic reality my favorite California location, Jerry’s Deli, has a doppelganger here in Houston. We ate until we could eat no more…from stripped reality to gluttony enjoyment. Then a coffeeshop…the big name kind nearby was easy and nearby, J’s uneasy feel crept high and his observation was “I like MOD much better, people have that relaxed island vibe. Here, everyone is stiff, self-conscious, ready for something they don’t look forward to. Let’s go home.” The sunset over the causeway….immediately that sigh of relief. The gold glittering waters. The pelicans drifting alongside. No regret’s, mind full of it all. I let my imagination wander so much this day…so much. Fulfilled. To write, to live, one must feed. This day I fed. I’ll have the eggs, no plate needed, please.